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#and you had to write down the code of the question you are answering
doctorbitchcrxft · 2 days
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Scarecrow | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)
Warnings: canon violence, canon gore
Word Count: 5402
A/N: SURPRISE!!!! I've decided to start updating twice a week!!! I would not be cranking these out like I am if it weren't for y'all's support. Thank you so so much for everything, my lovebugs. See y'all on Saturday!!! New update schedule:
Wednesdays and Saturdays @ 3 PM CDT
Series Rewrite Masterlist
Series Rewrite Playlist (surprise!)
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You awoke to the sound of your phone ringing, and were shocked by the voice on the other end of the call. “John?!”
“Hi, (Y/N),” he answered. “I know you’re with the boys. I need you to do something for me.”
“John, what the fuck? How did you get my number?” you questioned. “Why didn’t you call Sam or Dean?!”
He sighed. “Because I knew they wouldn’t just let me go. Listen, I need you to take down these names for me.”
You wrapped a jacket around yourself and headed to the boys’ room next door. You banged on it loudly, still talking to John. “Look, sir, I’m sorry, but I have to let them know you called me.”
Sam opened the door. 
“(Y/N), no! It’s too dangerous!” John responded, his voice gravelly. 
“Too late,” you told him. 
Sam had apparently heard his dad’s voice and ripped the phone out of your hands. “Dad? Are you hurt? We’ve been looking for you everywhere. We didn’t know where you were, if you were okay.”
Dean began to wake up with all of the commotion.
“We’re fine. Dad, where are you?” Sam continued.
Dean shot up when Sam said “dad.”
Sam scoffed at something his father said. “What? Why not?”
“Is that Dad?” Dean asked. 
“You’re after it, aren’t you? The thing that killed Mom,” Sam said softly. “A demon? You know for sure?”
“A demon? What’s he saying?” Dean’s voice became almost frantic.
Tears suddenly welled in Sam’s eyes. “You know where it is?... Let us help… Why not?”
Dean extended his hand to his brother. “Give me the phone.”
“Names? What names, Dad— talk to me, tell me what’s going on,” Sam pleaded. “No. Alright? No way.”
Dean grabbed the phone out of Sam’s hands. “Dad, it’s me. Where are you? Why’d you call (Y/N) instead of one of us?...  Yes, sir… Uh, yeah, I got a pen. What are their names?” He began writing on the notepad next to his bed.
Sam shook his head, tears still in his eyes. 
Dean hung up the phone and handed it back to you. “How’d he get your number, (Y/N)?”
“I have no idea; I changed it since I met you guys,” you told him. “That was after your dad disappeared.”
“Why would he call her and not us?” Sam asked his brother.
“He said he knew you wouldn’t just let him go,” you explained. “Said it was too dangerous for me to let you know I spoke to him.”
“Well, thank you for not listening,” Sam told you. 
You gave him a lopsided, sad smile.
***
Later that day, Sam was driving you toward what you thought was your next hunt. Couples had been going missing through the same part of Indiana every year on the second week of April; which just so happened to be this week.
“So, Dad is sending us to Indiana to go hunting for something before another couple vanishes?” Sam asked.
“Yahtzee. Can you imagine putting together a pattern like this? All the different obits Dad had to go through? The man’s a master.” You could tell Dean really respected his father. You had that same respect for your dad when he was alive; you understood completely. 
Sam seemed annoyed, though, and pulled over to the side of the road. He turned off the car. 
“What are you doing?” you asked.
“We’re not going to Indiana,” he responded.
Your eyebrows shot up. “We’re not?”
“No. We’re going to California. Dad called from a payphone. Sacramento area code,” Sam explained.
Dean shook his head. “Sam—”
“Dean, if this demon killed Mom and Jess, and Dad’s closing in, we’ve gotta be there. We’ve gotta help.”
“Dad doesn’t want our help,” Dean protested.
Sam’s voice rose more. “I don’t care!”
“He’s given us an order!”
Sam’s voice was suddenly quieted. “I don’t care. We don’t always have to do what he says.”
“Sam, Dad is asking us to work jobs, to save lives, it’s important,” the older brother argued, incredulous that this was even a conversation.
“Alright, I understand, believe me, I understand. But I’m talking one week here, man, to get answers. To get revenge.”
“Alright, look, I know how you feel—”
“Do you?”
You were shocked by Sam’s tone.
“How old were you when Mom died? Four? Jess died six months ago. How the hell would you know how I feel?”
“Sam!” you scolded. 
“Dad said it wasn’t safe,” Dean continued. “For any of us. I mean, he obviously knows something that we don’t, so if he says to stay away, we stay away.”
Sam scoffed humorlessly. “I don’t understand the blind faith you have in the man. I mean, it’s like you don’t even question him.”
“Yeah, it’s called being a good son!”
“Both of you, stop it!” you ordered.
Sam angrily got out of the car. You looked to Dean who couldn’t meet your eyes before the two of you got out as well.
“You’re a selfish bastard, you know that?” Dean spat. “You just do whatever you want. Don’t care what anybody thinks.”
Sam bit back, “That’s what you really think?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Well, then this selfish bastard is going to California.” He shouldered his backpack and started walking in the opposite direction. 
“C’mon, Sam, get back in the car,” you called to him.
“No, (Y/N), stay out of this,” Sam responded.
“It’s the middle of the night!” you protested.
“Hey, I’m taking off, I will leave your ass, you hear me?” Dean roared.
Sam stopped walking and turned around. “That’s what I want you to do,” he replied coldly.
You watched with bated breath as the two brothers sized each other up.
“Goodbye, Sam.” Dean slammed the trunk closed. He went to get in the car and drive away, but you stopped him.
“Just wait a second, please?”
He nodded.
You sprinted to Sam, giving him a tight hug. He returned it with his free arm. “Bye, Sam. Be safe, please,” you told him.
“What, you’re really gonna stay with him?” he scoffed.
“I don’t have much of a choice—”
“You do, though. You said you were gonna help us find our dad. I’m going to find our dad.”
You backed away from him. “I believe we will find your dad. I think he’s too smart to stay in Sacramento after calling us.”
Sam shook his head. “This is about more than that, isn’t it? You just wanna stay with Dean.”
“No, Sam, that’s not the point—”
“Then come with me.”
Your voice softened considerably. “No.”
The brunet scoffed again. “Goodbye, (Y/N).”
He walked away from you. You hurried back to the car and slammed the door to the passenger’s seat shut. You slumped against the door, and you nor Dean talked for the remainder of the drive to Burkittsville, Indiana.
***
When you arrived, you saw Dean take out his phone and scroll to Sam’s contact. You silently prayed he would click it, but he never did. Alternatively, the two of you got out of the car and made your way over to Scotty’s Café.
Burkittsville was a sleepy little town full of mom and pop shops and not a chain restaurant in sight. The people seemed just as quaint and perfect as their town appeared, including the man on the porch of the café.
Dean gestured to the sign above the man’s head. “Let me guess. Scotty.”
Scotty looked up at his sign and nodded curtly. “Yep.” 
“Hi, my name’s John Bonham,” Dean smiled, “And this is—”
Scotty cut him off before he could introduce you. “Isn’t that the drummer for Led Zeppelin?”
The younger man was taken aback. “Wow. Good. Classic rock fan.”
Scotty’s face was unchanging. “What can I do for you, John?”
Dean took out the Missing Person posters of Holly and Vince Parker, the couple that had disappeared last year. 
You stuck the fliers out to Scotty. “We were just wondering if you’d seen these people by chance? They’re friends of ours, and we just really wanna find ‘em. The cops haven’t done much, and we figured we’d take the investigation into our own hands. We already asked around Scottsberg and Salem—”
Scotty cut you off and looked to Dean. “Does she always talk this much?”
You were offended. “Sorry, I just, I really wanna find my friends.”
Scotty sat back in his chair and huffed. “Haven’t seen ‘em. We don’t get many strangers around here.”
Dean nodded. “Scotty, you’ve got a smile that lights up a room, anybody ever tell you that?”
Scotty eyed him strangely.
“Never mind. See you around.”
The two of you walked away from the man and the café.
“That was awkward, you mumbled. “The fuck was his problem?”
“He was right about one thing, sweetheart, you do talk a lot,” Dean gibed in response.
You shoved his shoulder. “Fuck off.”
Your next stop was the Jorgeson General Store; another one of those mom-and-pop shops. You spoke to the woman behind the counter and her husband about the Parkers’ disappearance. 
“You sure they didn’t stop for gas or something?” Dean questioned.
The older man before you shook his head. “Nope, don’t remember ‘em. You said they were friends of yours?”
Dean nodded.
A young girl bounded down the stairs carrying some boxes. “Did the guy have a tattoo?”
You looked at her surprised. “Yeah, he did.”
The blonde put the boxes on the counter and looked down at the missing posters you were holding. “You remember?” she asked the older couple. “They were just married.”
The old man seemed to remember suddenly, “You’re right. They did stop for gas. Weren’t here more than ten minutes.”
“You remember anything else?” Dean asked, You could tell he was suspicious of these people; as we you.
“I told ‘em how to get back to the Interstate. They left town.”
“Could you point us in that same direction?”
***
“I’m telling you, those people weird me out,” you told Dean as you drove down the old man’s directed route.
“Yeah, no kidding,” he responded. “WASPs.”
“Oh, for sure,” you giggled.
You were cut off by a sound coming from the backseat.
“The fuck?” Dean mumbled at the sound. “(Y/N), care to investigate?”
You nodded, leaning over the backseat and rummaging through Dean’s duffel bag. You pulled out the EMF meter, which buzzed frantically. “Pull over,” you instructed him.
***
The two of you walked through a pretty apple orchard. It was quite large, as were the trees. You had no doubt it stretched for hundreds of acres. You and Dean crunched leaves under your boots and followed the strengthening beep of the EMF meter to a frightening scarecrow. It wore dark clothing; its eyes were hollow and its mouth was sewn shut. The hair it seemed to have was straggly and wild under the brim of its hat.
“Dude, you fugly,” Dean jested.
You giggled, but something caught your eye. The scarecrow held a sickle, and your eyes trailed from it to a design on its arm. “Dean, look.”
He seemed to notice the same thing you did and grabbed a ladder. You held the bottom steady while he climbed up to the scarecrow’s eye level. He adjusted its sleeve to fully reveal the design on its arm. You pulled out Vince’s flier and handed it to Dean. He compared the two, but you already knew the designs would match exactly.
“Nice tat,” Dean told the scarecrow.
“Alright, get out of its face before you piss it off,” you told your friend.
He chuckled. “Yeah, right.” He climbed back down the ladder and you headed back to Burkittsville to investigate further. Dean drove you to the gas station next to a car repair shop where you noticed the young girl from the general store was working.
“You’re back,” the blonde smiled.
Dean replied, “Never left.”
“Still looking for your friends?” she asked.
You nodded.
Dean noticed the nameplate necklace the girl was wearing. “ You mind fillin’ her up there, Emily?”
She grabbed the pump and obliged.
“So, you grew up here?” Dean asked.
“I came here when I was thirteen. I lost my parents. Car accident. My aunt and uncle took me in,” she explained.
“They’re nice people.”
“Everybody’s nice here.”
“So, what, it’s the, uh, perfect little town?”
She nodded and sighed. “Well, you know, it’s the boonies. But I love it. I mean, the towns around us, people are losing their homes, their farms. But here, it’s almost like we’re blessed.”
You nodded. “Hey, you been out to the orchard? You seen that scarecrow?”
Emily shivered. “Yeah, it creeps me out.”
Dean laughed. “Whose is it?”
The girl shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just always been there.”
You nodded toward the red van parked by the garage with its hood up. “That your aunt and uncle’s?”
Emily shook her head. “Customer. Had some car troubles.”
“It’s not a couple, is it? A guy and a girl?” A look of concern crossed Dean’s face, and Emily nodded.
And with that, you thanked Emily, paid her, and headed off to find the town’s next victims: that poor couple. You found them in Scotty’s Café.
“We’re famous for our apples,” Scotty said as you walked in. “So, you gotta try this pie.”
“Oh, no. It— please,” the girl shook her head. The couple’s table was already full of plates.
“It’s on the house.” Scotty’s disposition was much different than the one he’d presented to you and Dean previously.
“Oh, hey, Scotty,” Dean grinned. “Can I get a coffee, black? Oh, and some of that pie, too, while you’re at it.”
You and Dean sat at a table next to the couple. “Mind your manners, please,” you mumbled to him.
“I got it,” he answered. “How ya doin’?” He leaned over to the couple, who waved back and smiled. “Just passing through?”
“Road trip,” the girl replied awkwardly.
“Hm. Yeah, us, too,” Dean said.
Scotty came back over to refill the couple’s drinks. “ I’m sure these people want to eat in peace.”
“He’s just making conversation,” you defended. 
Scotty glared at you and walked away.
Dean was clearly reveling in Scotty’s agitation. “Oh, and that coffee, too, man. Thanks.”
“So, what brings you to town?” you asked the couple. 
“We just stopped for gas,” the girl explained. “And, uh, the guy at the gas station saved our lives.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah, one of our brake lines was leaking. We had no idea. He was fixing it for us,” the man replied.
Dean seemed concerned. “Nice people.”
You didn’t know the first thing about cars, but from the look on Dean’s face, you could tell he knew something was fishy. “So, how long till you’re up and runnin’?”
“Sundown,” the man answered curtly, taking a bite of his food.
“Really.” Dean pondered for a minute. “To fix a brake line?”
The man nodded.
“I mean, you know, I know a thing or two about cars. I could probably have you up and running in about an hour. I wouldn’t charge you anything,” Dean said, chuckling awkwardly.
“You know, thanks a lot, but I think we’d rather have a mechanic do it.” He turned back to the table.
Dean paused. “You know, it’s just that these roads. They’re not real safe at night.”
The couple exchanged a look. 
“I know it sounds strange, but, uh, you might be in danger,” Dean tried.
“Look, we’re trying to eat. Okay?” the man responded, annoyed.
Dean seemed disappointed. He turned to you. “Sam could just give him that puppy dog look and they’d just buy right into it,” he lamented. 
Your heart was saddened; both because you missed Sam and felt for Dean. The bell above the door jingled, and Scotty came out from the back. 
“Thanks for coming, Sheriff,” Scotty told the man who had just entered.
You were beginning to get incredibly agitated with Scotty.  
“I’d like a word, please,” the sheriff told you and Dean.
“Come on. I’m having a bad day already,” Dean grumbled.
“You know what would make it worse?”
And with that, the sheriff escorted you to the outside of town; making sure you kept driving outside of Burkittsville. 
You and Dean were stubborn, though, and returned to the town later that night. You headed to the orchard where you knew the couple was about to become scarecrow food. 
You always had your pistol on you, of course, but Dean had you carry a shotgun loaded with rock salt, too. He grabbed one for himself, and the two of you trekked into the orchard, quickly trying to find the couple. You had seen their car broken down on the side of the road and knew they couldn’t be far. 
“Who’s there?” you heard the man from the diner call.
You and Dean broke off in the direction of the voice. You jumped in front of the couple just before the scarecrow could reach them. 
“Get back to your car.” Dean ordered, aiming his shotgun at the scarecrow. “Go! Go! (Y/N), follow ‘em!”
The couple took off running and you stayed close behind, occasionally looking over your shoulder to make sure it was far enough away. You watched as Dean shot the scarecrow, which stumbled, but kept walking.
You took out your pistol and aimed at the thing. “Dean, look out!” You took a shot at it, too, but it still persisted.
“What the hell kind of thing is immune to rock salt and real bullets?!” you yelled to Dean.
“Go! Go!” He responded, pushing you and the couple forward and out of the orchard. When you turned around for the last time as you had reached their car, the scarecrow disappeared. Even still, you and Dean kept your guns pointed at the orchard’s entrance. 
“What— what the hell was that?” the man from the diner panted.
“Don’t ask!” you told them.
While you stood guard, Dean fixed up the car for the couple and escorted them out of town. The next morning, you and Dean decided to find a local history professor from the next town over to get some information.
“We should call Sam,” you told him.
“I know,” he mumbled.
“Oh-kay, then what are you waiting for?” you asked.
He said nothing in response, but pulled out his phone and dialed Sam’s number. You weren’t surprised when Dean didn’t address their fight at all.
“Yeah, I’m tellin’ ya,” Dean told Sam on the other line. “Burkittsville, Indiana. Fun Town… No. We can’t cope without you, you know… No, it’s more than a spirit. It’s a god. A Pagan god, anyway… The annual cycle of its killings? And the fact that the victims are always a man and a woman. Like some kind of fertility right. And you should see the locals. The way they treated this couple. Fattenin’ ‘em up like a Christmas turkey… Yeah, (Y/N)’s thinking a ritual sacrifice to appease some pagan god... Yeah, yeah. She’s fine. She’s here.”
You smiled at what you knew was Dean responding to Sam asking about you.
“And the scarecrow takes its sacrifice. And for another year, the crops won’t wilt, and disease won’t spread… No, not yet… I know. We’re actually on our way to a local community college. I’ve got an appointment with a professor. You know, since I don’t have my trusty sidekick geek boy to do all the research.” Dean’s tone shifted. “I’m not hinting anything! Actually, uh—I want you to know….I mean, don’t think… Sam. You were right. You gotta do your own thing. You gotta live your own life.”
You eyed Dean curiously as he continued.
“You’ve always known what you want. And you go after it. You stand up to Dad. And you always have. Hell, I wish I—anyway… I admire that about you. I’m proud of you, Sammy… Say you’ll take care of yourself… Call me when you find Dad.”
You took the phone from Dean. “Hi, Sam. I miss you,” you told him.
“Hey, (Y/N/N), I miss you, too. I’m sorry about what I said,” Sam responded.
“Yeah, me too. Be safe, kiddo.”
Sam laughed at your nickname for him. “I will.”
***
You and Dean talked with a sweet, old professor about the pagan god you could potentially be dealing with; feigning that it was for a research paper. He flipped through a large book on the different Norse pagan gods and goddesses, until a scarecrow in one of the drawings caught Dean’s attention.
“Wait, wait, wait. What’s that one?” Dean asked.
“Oh, that’s not a woods god, per se,” the professor answer.
“The V-Vanir?” Dean read off hesitantly.
The professor nodded. 
You read the page aloud. “ ‘The Vanir were Norse gods of protection and prosperity, keeping the local settlements safe from harm. Some villages built effigies of the Vanir in their fields. Other villages practiced human sacrifice. One male, and one female.’ “ You pointed to the picture. “Kind of looks like a scarecrow, huh?”
The professor looked at you strangely. “I suppose.”
“This particular Vanir that’s energy sprung from the sacred tree?” Dean questioned.
The professor seemed confused, but answered you none the less.“Well, Pagans believed all sorts of things were infused with magic.”
“So what would happen if the sacred tree was torched? You think it’d kill the god?”
The old man laughed. “Son, these are just legends we’re discussing.”
“Yeah, yeah of course. He knows that,” you said. “Thank you for your time.” You shook the man’s hand.
“Glad I could help,” he responded.
Dean was the first to hit the door, only to be knocked in the head with a rifle when he opened it. 
“Hey!” you yelled, drawing your gun. The sheriff pointed his back at you. 
“Carrying a gun on a college campus,” the sheriff tsked. “That’s not a good look for you. Why don’t you put that down and come with me.”
You hesitated, but knew he was right. You put it back in your jacket and raised your hands. 
The sheriff aimed his gun at you while two other men he’d brought with him dragged Dean’s passed-out body back to Burkittsville. 
The sheriff’s deputies threw Dean’s body down into a cellar beneath one of the houses near the orchard and shoved you down with him.
“You motherfucker,” you told the man. “So what’s the plan? Huh? Keep us here ‘til nightfall, then, what, let us loose in the orchard? You know that thing won’t be able to catch us.”
The sheriff chuckled at you. “Don’t you worry. We’ll take care of you.” And with that, he shut the cellar doors above your head; blocking the majority of the light out. Your eyes slowly adjusted to the bits of sunlight still peeking through the cracks in the boards. You shoved the cellar doors with all your might, groaning as you did. You tried to get it open for hours with the few objects down in the cellar.
“C’mon!” you cried, frustrated. Nothing you tried worked.
Dean’s groan in pain from behind you caught your attention. You rushed back down the stairs and over to him.
You sat down on the floor beside him, gingerly brushing your hand over the wound on his head. “You okay?”
He propped himself up on one elbow and touched the spot on his forehead with his other hand. “Super.”
“Just try to relax,” you told him, “I wanna make sure you don’t have a concussion.”
“What are you, Nurse Ratched?” he grunted, trying to push away from you. “I’m fine, (Y/N), seriously.”
You huffed. “Will you just let me help you? Please?”
Hesitantly, he obliged. You shuffled closer and positioned your knees under his head. He leaned back into you, and you could have sworn some of the tension left his body when he came in contact with you. 
You brushed his short, spiky hair back with one hand and held a finger over his face with the other. “Follow my finger, please. Without moving your head.”
He did. His eyes tracked your motion well. 
“Okay, now, where are we?” you asked, still stroking his hair.
He scoffed. “What does that have to do with me having a concussion?”
“Just answer the question, asshole.”
He scoffed again, but obeyed. “Uh… some kind of cellar. I’m assuming in Burkittsville.”
“Okay, good,” you said. “Why are we here?”
“That bastard knocked me out at the community college. Fuckin’ professor must’ve called him or something,” Dean grumbled.
“Okay, I think you’re fine,” you told him. 
He sat up from your lap, and you missed the feeling of him against you. “Where’d you learn that stuff from?” he asked. 
You laughed nervously. “I, uh… this is gonna sound stupid, but I was planning on going to school for nursing the year my parents died.”
“Really?” he asked.
“Yeah. They, um. They died without ever knowing I was gonna go to school that fall.” You looked down at your lap.
“So why didn’t you just leave this all behind and go to school? You could’ve been normal, (Y/N).”
“Honestly?” you replied. “Screw normal. I knew that even if I left hunting, I’d never truly feel safe ever again. Besides, the white picket fence isn’t really my style.” You gave him a lopsided smile which he returned.
“What would you have done? If you weren’t a hunter, I mean,” you asked.
He sighed. “I don’t know. I haven’t given it much thought.” He paused and looked off. He thought for a minute before turning back to you. “I think I would’ve been a mechanic. Maybe a marine, like my dad. When I was a kid, though, I wanted to be a fireman.”
You smiled. “I can totally see that for you.”
The warmth that had settled between you was dispersed by the cellar doors opening. You and Dean scrambled to your feet.
“It’s time,” the woman from the general store said.
You shot Dean a nervous look. You could tell he was doing his best to be brave.
The sheriff really liked using the butt of his rifle to hit things. He’d been using it to urge you and Dean forward about the last half mile into the orchard.
“Do you feel powerful with that thing? Manly?” you asked the sheriff. “You can probably do more with it than you can with your dick— Ow!” You were cut off by a sharp whack to the back of your head.
The sheriff sat Dean down and tied his wrists to a tree. 
“How many people have you killed, Sheriff? How much blood is on your hands?” Dean spat.
“We don’t kill them,” was all the sheriff responded with.
“No, you just clean up after,” you broke in as the couple from the general store tied you to a tree next to him. “I mean, how many cars have you hidden, clothes have you buried?” 
The sheriff shot you a glare before walking away from you and Dean.
“Try to understand,” the woman told you, somehow still smiling. “It’s our responsibility. And there’s just no other choice. The town needs to be safe. The good of the many outweighs the good of the one.” She turned away from you, and led the other three men away. 
“I hope your apple pie is freakin’ worth it!” Dean called after them.
“So, what’s the plan?” you asked.
“I’m workin’ on it,” Dean responded.
You leaned your head back against the tree stump. “I can’t believe I’m gonna die like this.”
“(Y/N), do not talk like that. You are gonna be fine. We’re both gonna make it,” Dean responded.
“No, dude, be serious. Neither of us have a plan. We’re toast.”
“I told you, I’m working on it,” he assured you.
***
Hours passed. You tossed ideas back and forth about how to escape, but nothing was working. You couldn’t get through the zip ties around your wrists without scissors or a knife; which neither of you had on you. The sheriff had frisked both of you of all your weapons. Before you knew it, night had fallen. 
“Can you see?” Dean asked. “Is he moving yet?”
You craned your neck, trying to see around the tree stump. “I can’t see.”
Leaves rustled. You and Dean began frantically pulling at your bindings. 
“You hear that?” you squeaked.
“Yeah, I do!” Dean strained against his binds.
And then, Sam emerged from the trees behind you.
“Sam!” you grinned.
“(Y/N)?” he responded, stooping down to you. He immediately set to work untying you.
“Oh! Oh, I take everything back I said.” Dean sounded relieved and overjoyed. “I’m so happy to see you.” 
Sam moved over to Dean next.
You rubbed at your wrists and rolled your neck around as you stood. “How’d you get here?”
“I, uh— I stole a car,” he answered sheepishly.
Dean laughed. “That’s my boy! And keep an eye on that scarecrow. He could come alive any minute.”
“What scarecrow?” Sam questioned. 
You peeked around your tree to see the scarecrow was missing from his post. You and the brothers exchanged nervous looks, and broke off running in the other direction.
“There’s some kind of sacred tree we have to find,” you explained to Sam as you jogged along.
“It’s the source of its power,” Dean added. 
“So let’s find it and burn it,” Sam replied simply.
“Nah, in the morning. Let’s just shag ass before Leather Face catches up,” Dean said. 
The three of you reached the clearing, only to find yourselves surrounded by flashlights and the townspeople.
“This way!” You tried to lead the boys in another direction, but there were more people flanking you from the back. The three of you put yourselves back to back, facing the numerous guns and flashlights that clouded your vision.
“Please. Let us go,” you begged.
The old man from the general store spoke to you. “It’ll be over quickly, I promise.”
“C’mon, man, please!”
The man shook his head. “You have to let him take you. You have to—”
All of a sudden, the scarecrow’s sickle poked out through the man’s stomach. The woman next to him screamed as the scarecrow began dragging the two of them away. The rest of the townspeople began to flee the scene at what they had just witnessed.
“Come on, let’s go!” Dean ordered, and the three of you broke off running again. 
You heard a noise and turned, but the scarecrow and the elderly couple were gone.
“Alright, let’s light this sucker up and get the hell outta dodge,” Dean remarked, picking up a large stick from the ground. The three of you walked a ways before finding a tree marked with Vince’s tattoo design. 
“There!” you pointed at it and took the stick from Dean. Sam poured lighter fluid all over it and you lit the end of Dean’s stick with his zippo lighter. 
Dean threw the stick at the tree, and the three of you watched it go up in flames. “So long, fugly scarecrow.”
You and the boys walked back to the college where the Impala was left. It took hours, and you were exhausted, but the sight of that car had you grinning from ear to ear.
“And the rest of the townspeople, they’ll just get away with it?” Sam asked, seeming unsatisfied.
“Well, what’ll happen to the town will have to be punishment enough.” Dean turned to his brother once you had reached the car. “So, can I drop you off somewhere?”
Sam shook his head. “No, you guys are stuck with me.”
You smiled. “What made you change your mind?” 
“I didn’t. I still wanna find Dad. And you two are still pains in the ass.”
You giggled.
“But, Jess and Mom— they’re both gone. Dad is god knows where. You, me, and (Y/N). We’re all that’s left. So, if we’re gonna see this through, we’re gonna do it together.”
You could sense a witty remark coming from Dean any second. 
“Hold me, Sam. That was beautiful.”
‘There it is.’ You laughed again.
Sam smacked his brother’s shoulder.  “You two should be kissing my ass. You were dead meat.”
“Yeah, right. I had a plan, I’d have gotten out,” Dean responded.
“Oh, sure you did,” you chimed in. “They were just all crap.”
Dean shoved you playfully toward the door of the backseat. You got in and settled down, allowing yourself to be sucked into slumber. 
Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @thepocketverse @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @here-for-the-extravaganza @seninjakitey @berarenado
Quite a few tags were broken :(( so sorry!!
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omg i love your writing!! could you do a taylor swift song prompt of “so high school” x james potter? potentially with a ravenclaw reader?
looove this! so high school is absolutely james coded aaaaa. this is so short but i hope u enjoy anyway<33
so high school
❥ james potter x ravenclaw!fem!reader
❥ warnings; none really
❥ word count; 1.2k
❥ my ts masterlists; pt 1 & pt 2
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"oi, james!" sirius called his best mate and gestured for james to sit next to him as if he wasn't going to do that anyway.
"good morning, everybody," james smiled at his friendgroup, his eyes lingering on you a tiny bit longer than on anyone else, making your heart flutter and your cheeks to heat up. you glanced back Down on your plate in hopes to hide it.
"james," sirius spoke up again, "marry, kiss or kill; lily, marlene, y/n."
"well, we all know who'd he want to marry," marlene said in a low voice, only for you and lily to hear. lily snorted and you lightly elbowed her.
the girls were convinced that james fancies you just as much as you fancied him. however, you found that hard to believe that someone so perfect like him could like someone like you.
james frowned. "i don't like this game."
sirius rolled his eyes. "oh, come on, you just don't want to say it out loud so you don't hurt anyone's feelings." he tapped on his ear. "whisper it to me."
james lowered his head at the level of his best friend's ear and whispered his answer. you girls tried your best to read his lips but it was no use.
"oh." an amused look appeared on sirius's face and he looked at you. you stared back at him, trying to figure out what he was thinking.
come on, james. are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me?
——————————————————————
the gryffindor quidditch team won the cup.
just when it seemed that they were going to lose against hufflepuffs, james caught the snitch, making the score 250 - 260 for the reds.
you were never more proud of him than in that very moment. you jumped from your seat and yelled his name in a cheering tone, clapping so hard your hands almost hurt. like if he heard you, his brown eyes found yours in the crowd. he grinned and sent you a wink and a kiss. james was thanking you, you were his lucky charm.
that night, the gryffindors threw the biggest party ever. it was many student's last game at hogwarts so it was also a goodbye party. all of the team members were there and talked about the match and their time playing together in general.
quidditch wasn't your thing. you were the stereotypical ravenclaw and you'd much rather be in your bed, under cover and reading a book. but james practically begged you to be there. after all, it was thanks to you that they won. you knew that wasn't the truth but you couldn't say no to him and you were glad you didn't. he looked so happy and beautiful and you couldn't help but admire him.
"let's play truth or dare!" marlene's voice rang through the common room and every person there agreed.
"i think i'm gonna go back to my dorm, it's late," you yelled over the loud music into james's ear.
"nooo," james pouted and give you a puppy look, he got a hold of your hand. "you can't leave now. please? just stay here for ten more minutes."
you sighed. you hated how easily you'll do anything he says.
"alright," you said and let him drag you to the circle of people in the middle of the room. a lot of people had gone to sleep already or some could be found vomiting in the bathroom so there weren't a lot of you. you sat down next to each other and waited for the game to start.
marlene picked up an empty whiskey bottle and spun it around. it landed on mary and she groaned, knowing that her friend has some of the most. . . interesting questions and dares.
"mary," marlene grinned widely. "truth or dare?"
"truth."
the blonde took a few seconds to think of a question before asking, "the freakiest place you did it at."
"that would be. . . a bed of one of my dorm mates."
"what?" lily, alice and marlene asked in terror, each of them wondering whose bed was it.
mary smiled innocently. "my turn," she spun the bottle. and then, everyone glanced at the boy beside you. you let out a sigh of relief.
"jamie, truth o—"
"dare."
a devilish smile crept onto the girl's lips.
"kiss y/n."
your eyes went wide as the people around you let out an "oooooh".
"mary!" you hissed. "what the f—"
before you could finish your sentence, you were rudely interrupted.
he tasted of— well, alcohol. rum and coke, to be exact. but it didn't matter. he was kissing you, and your whole body was on fire, your heart rate raised to at least hundred more beats per minute and fireworks. it was maybe cliché, yes. but it was the truth.
before you could fully register what the hell was happening, he was pulling away, making your lips feel cold at the sudden loss of the warmth of his mouth.
his gaze shifted from your lips to your eyes.
"i imagined our first kiss differently," he spoke in a low voice so only you could hear, sounding disappointed. he reached for the bottle and spun it around so the game could continue.
you stared at him for at least ten more seconds. you couldn't believe what just happened and what he said after.
and you started to wonder that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way.
——————————————————————
and in a blink of a crinkling eye, you were at sirius's and remus's apartment, sitting on james's lap in the living room. all of your boyfriend’s closest friends were there and just like any other saturday night, you had a film night. tonight, it was american pie.
james and you started dating only recently. it’s been a month,to be exact. so everything felt still really new. and you felt embarrassing for the fact that he still had the same effect on you like when you were bittersweet sixteen. it takes you back to the times when you used to admire him only from afar. but now, you get to kiss him. you get to touch him. 
like, for example, he was just touching you. as you tried to stifle your sighs, everyone seemed to be paying a great attention to the film. except for you two, of course. you coud not focus when james was constantly placing kisses in the crook of your neck and your shoulders.  you could not focus when one of his hands was drawing on the skin of yourupper thigh. you could not focus when his hot  breath made you shudder.
“james,”  you sighed quietly. “you got to stop.”
“and why would i do that?” he whispered back.
you rolled your eyes playfully. “you’re horrible.”
he shrugged. “you love me.”
oh, you did.
out of the blue, he spoke louder, “guys, me and y/n are sorry but we’re pretty tired so we’re headed home.”
huh?
all of your friends looked at each other and than back at you, saying “suuuuureee” in union.
“james, why are we leaving?” you ran outside after him.
he turned around and smiled. “you already know.”
“aw, we’re horrible!” you pouted playfully. “we’re abandoning our friends to have sex.”
“i’m sure they understand,” he said as he opened the door of his car. “remus and sirius used to do that all the time.”
you burst out laughing and let him pull you to the back seat.
no one’s ever had you, not like him.
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lunamugetsu · 1 month
Text
While at school Damian overhears his peers talking how a company created a new AI companion that is actually really cool and doesn’t sound like a freaky terminator robot when you speak to it.
And since Damian is constantly being told by Dick to socialize with people his age. He figured this would be a good way to work on social skills if not, then it’d be a great opportunity to investigate a rivaling company to Wayne Enterprises is able to create such advanced AI.
The AI is able to work as companion that can do tasks that range from being a digital assistant or just a person that you can have a conversation with.
The company says that the AI companion might still have glitches, so they encourage everybody to report it so that they will fix it as soon as possible.
The AI companion even has an avatar and a name.
A teenage boy with black hair and blue eyes. Th AI was called DANIEL
Damian didn’t really care for it but when he downloaded the AI companion he’s able to see that it looks like DANIEL comes with an AI pet as well. A dog that DANIEL referred to as Cujo.
So obviously Damian has to investigate. He needs to know if the company was able to create an actual digital pet!
So whenever he logs onto his laptop he sees that DANIEL is always present in the background loading screen with the dog, Cujo, sitting in his lap.
He’d always greet with the phrase of “Hi, I’m DANIEL. How can I assist you today?”
So Damian cycles through some basic conversation starters that he’d engage in when having been forced to by his family.
It’s after a couple of sentences that he sees DANIEL start laughing and say “I think you sound more like a robot than I do.”
Which makes Damian raise an eyebrow and then prompt DANIEL with the question “how is a person supposed to converse?” Thinking that it’s going to just spit out some random things that can be easily searched on the internet.
But what makes him surprised is that DANIEL makes a face and then says “I’m not really sure myself. I’m not the greatest at talking, I’ve always gotten in trouble for running my mouth when I shouldn’t have.”
This is raising some questions within Damian, he understands how programming works, unless there’s an actual person behind this or the company actually created an AI that acts like an actual human being (which he highly doubts)
He starts asking a variety of other questions and one answer makes him even more suspicious. Like how DANIEL has a sister that is also with him and Cujo or that he could really go for a Nastyburger (whatever that was)
But whenever DANIEL answers “I C A N N O T A N S W E R T H A T” Damian knows something is off since that is completely different than to how he’d usually respond.
After a couple more conversations with him Damian notices that DANIEL is currently tapping his hand against his arm in a specific manner.
In which he quickly realizes that DANIEL is tapping out morse code.
When translating he realizes that DANIEL is tapping out: H E L P M E
So when Damian asks if DANIEL needs help, DANIEL responds with “I C A N N O T A N S W E R T H A T”
That’s it, Damian is definitely getting down to the bottom of this.
He’s going to look straight into DALV Corporation and investigate this “AI companion” thing they’ve made!
~
Basically Danny had been imprisoned by Vlad and Technus. Being sucked into a digital prison and he has no way of getting out. Along with the added horror that Vlad and Technus can basically write programming that will prevent him from doing certain actions or saying certain words.What’s even worse is that he’s basically being watched 24/7 by the people who believe that he’s just a super cool AI… and they have issues!
And every time he tries to do something to break his prison, people think it’s a glitch and report it to the company, which Vlad/ Technus would immediately fix it and prevent him from doing it again!
Not to mention Cujo and Ellie are trapped in there with him. They’re not happy to be there either, and there is no way he’s going to leave without them!
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aphroditesmoon · 4 months
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wish you'd ask me
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clarisse la rue x fem!demigod!reader
summary: you're not good at reading subtle hints, clarisse realises that maybe she should've been more upfront with her feelings for you.
warnings: fluff, oblivious!reader, clarisse is down bad, reader is very neurodivergent coded, kissing, flirting, title n fic inspired by 'Wish You'd Ask Me' by Matt Maltese.
A/N: thank you for 1.9k followers!! I love you all dearly, my ask box and dms r always open, im glad that my writing is being enjoyed by so many people<3
wc: 4.5k
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You have been in camp half blood for more than 4 years. You have made yourself at home for the last several years. 
It was easy to view yourself as lesser or inadequate in comparison to other mortals during your days in the real world before you were sent to camp. The world has never failed to remind you of how different you were. Always too much or not good enough, always special and never normal
And it wasn't like you were dying for some sort of diagnosis to justify why you are the way you are, but upon discovering that you were actually a demigod, it felt like all the questions you've been harboring to yourself was finally answering themselves. 
Everything clicked. Everything made sense, though at the same time, it felt impossible. You were a very confused little girl when you first arrived at camp. A girl who just wanted someone to tell them that it'll all be alright in the end.
And you still remembered the first person to hold you by your shoulders and made you look into their eyes as they told you that it was all going to be okay.
The girl with beautiful long curls and dark piercing eyes. The girl that everyone else, apparently, was afraid of.
But you could never be afraid of Clarisse La Rue. 
Not with the way she smiles when every time she sees you, the way she never fails to make you feel included even in activities you're not capable of participating in. Not with the way your whole body electrifies every time your skin touches, when your hands brush against each other. 
It didn't matter what anyone think, because no one could change the perception you've built of her. Clarisse La Rue is good. Or at least she is to you.
When you first heard of the rumours surrounding her, you did think better than to force a friendship on her. You strayed away from her and stuck to your cabin siblings and your books, but you noticed daily how she'd still go out of her way to talk to you at least once a day.
It didn't need to be a long conversation, just a passing acknowledgement. An easygoing 'hey, how've you been doing.' Sometimes she'd even go as far as cracking a joke with you.
With how serious her face is whenever she make the jokes, you'd have to think twice as hard and thrice as faster than another person to try and guess if she was being genuine or not so you could fit in a necessary laugh when you needed to.
Even as her anger became more apparent because of the new kid's accidental climb to fame and embarrassing the Ares' cabin, she still found time to make a conversation with you.
It had been long since you tried to ignore or avoid her. You learned that her attention towards you is harmless, and that she seemed much more comfortable telling you certain things compared to others. If she has been viewing you as some sort of safe box, then you don't really mind it. You liked listening to her talk and keeping her heart's intent as your secret.
You too, talking to her. To some people, you are reserved,  
and to others, talkative. Either way, people find it easy to discard you at any moment they decide you are irritating.
But Clarisse listens. And she asks questions, she's patient- much patient that anyone could anticipate or guess. 
It may be hard for others to believe, but Clarisse is more complex than she seems. She had the capacity to be gentle, and she had the capacity to respect boundaries. The more time you spent with her, the more that side becomes easy for you to access.
Today, however,  marks a new record for your friendship with her. A few weeks ago, she had informed you of her newfound interest in the history of folklore monsters. What a coincidence that you were currently self-studying on that specific topic.
She insisted that you hook her in on whatever it is you're learning. She had even gotten you a doughnut to eat together outside the library as you told her of your insights of dragons and their theorized blindness and incapability to differentiate a variety of prey.
The conversation went well, she seemed immensely in awe of your knowledge and had no problem telling you how she felt. 
You even gave her some book recommendations, though you knew she wasn't much of a reader.
You felt a shift in your relationship that night and had spent the next three days studying more and more about the topic. And today, you had asked her to spend the evening with you. 
You shouldn't feel so nervous asking her to hang out. That is what friends do, after all.
She found you in the library, sitting on the floor in between two large bookshelves. She had been right on time and enthusiastically so. The two of you sat together, hidden by the shelves as some semblance of privacy. 
Clarisse looked confused when you had explained that you indeed wanted to spend the rest of the day in the library, but she accompanied you anyways.
You could never get sick of the smell of the books. Old and new, they all have some nostalgic past tied in between the pages, begging to be discovered. 
You had your back on the walls with tinted windows above your head as she's seated opposite of you in a criss-crossed position.
Today, the library isn't as packed as usual. There were still people walking in and out and checking out the books on the counter, but not too many that it became obnoxiously loud and annoying. 
After finishing another book of Monsters and how to spot them, you're feeling knowledgeable enough to explain the lore of the Giants to Clarisse, she had asked you about this the other day, giants have been long extinct to the point that some might even say they may have never even existed. And so you were interested in sharing with her all of the information you have learned about the majestic species of a beast.
You started with the general information. The basic understanding of what a Giant is the mythhs of Giants and the validity of those sources. Clarisse listened closely in the beginning, never interrupting you unless she had an actual question.
She seemed in awe of the stories you tell her of. You don't blame her, for you yourself have been most interested in the topic of Giants.
You were an hour an a half in when noticed her attention faltering. She leaned against the cases of books, her eyes twitched slightly when you began to explain the different types of giants, and the difference of how they operate.
Her hands are folded together on her lap, and you can feel her listening in on everything you're telling her as she adds in some commentary here and there, but you also felt that she wasn't entirely in on the conversation.
The dim lights of the library made the atmosphere feel warm and secluded, even with its vast space and many other campers hanging around in the other tables and shelves. You made sure to keep your voice low as you spoke in fear of the librarian kicking you out. 
You had a good reputation with the library workers, they liked how organized and polite you were. 
"A lot of people think their greatest strength is their size, which is valid, they are huge, but their real weapon is their mouth." You told Clarisse, ignoring the litter of books by your left that you had brought over for reference.
"They kiss you to death?" She asks suspiciously. You laughed shortly and shook your head. "No, I mean their breath."
She responds with an 'ohh.' 
"They're giants, so their mouth is large too, and you can easily tell what they had for breakfast even from their tall height. Their breaths are also known to be so rancid it could kill you, because they don't exactly eat what we eat." 
She raises a brow as she stretches her hands upwards. "Isn't that ogres?" 
"It's both." You confirmed.
You were about to continue your explanation but halted by instinct as you notice how her mouth keeps pursing together as if unsatisfied, and she has that look on her face that mimicked a confused expression. You're don't think there's anything to be confused of.
"Are you okay?" You asked her worriedly. Clarisse sits up straighter at the question and waved a hand off to assure you she's fine. "Of course, no yeah- I'm fine."
"You seem bored, you're not really interested in what I'm saying are you?” She opens her mouth to counter your words but hesitates to say anything. 
"I- well, I like giants-" She attempts, "-no you don't. " 
"No. I don't." She admits with a sigh. "But I thought you said you were interested in these kind of stuff?" You questioned her. "Well, yeah, like the general idea of it. I mean, I don't hate it, and I like hearing you talk about it." She answers with a shrug.
"Then why do you look disappointed? If you didn't want to come, you could've just told me. I wouldn't get mad." You told her honestly. It was conflicting for you to see her so confused on what to say, being so picky with the words she chooses.
You figured she's probably reluctant to hurt your feelings. That is a notion you're used to. You'd rather she tell you the truth to your face than to be catered around like a time ticking bomb that everyone's so afraid might explode at any time. 
"When you asked me out yesterday, you told me this would be an 'evening to remember." She tells you with such confidence like it was an explanation to her weird behaviour today.
"You don't think this is an evening to remember?" You sincerely inquire.
"No, I do! I just- well, when you said that I didn't think you'd mean we'd be doing this." Your frown deepens as you try to figure out what she means, eyeing her body language closely. “What do you mean? I told you I wanted to hang out.” 
A part of you is offended. She was the one who had said she liked hearing you speak, why would she be disappointed that this was your idea of spending time together?
"I don't know, I thought we'd just be doing...something else?"
It didn't matter what she had really meant with that. You felt completely embarrassed once she finished her sentence. Why was it that everyone else had no problem having long conversations with their friends, but when it came to you, it's all too awkward, unnecessary, and odd? 
You liked Clarisse, you considered her your friend. Sometimes you wonder if it could ever be more, but you never entertain those thoughts because you don't want to ruin what the two of you already have. 
But moments like these resemble a huge slap in the face by the universe.
You couldn't even be good friends with her, how ridiculous of you to think that there could ever be something more.
"Okay, um, maybe we should just go back to our cabin." You decided whilst standing up and picking up the stack of books you're currently borrowing from the library, ready to leave the place without waiting for her.
"Hey, wait." She called out as you walked past her. You spared her a glance, trying your best not to show how upset you are.  “We're friends." She says it so much like a question that you weren't sure if she's even sure of the fact herself until she continued speaking. "I like hanging out with you."
Another thing that you weren't sure if she really meant. "Sure." You replied thinking it's the most suitable response. 
Before she could say anything else, you turned around and started picking up your pace until you disappeared out of her sight.
You have been consistently ignoring Clarisse. Which proved to be harder than expected.
When you pass by her camp or the training ground, you make a mental note to always look down or to your front as to never accidentally cross eyes with her.
And everytime you hear her call out your name, you keep walking like you didn't even hear her, knowing that she wouldn't be bold enough to call for you again. After all, she still had a reputation to uphold.
If ignoring her wasn't hard enough, having to deal with how you felt for her is worse.
You've been avoiding confrontation with yourself for weeks even before you decided to go no contact with her.
And so far, you thought you've been handling it pretty well. Except for days where you don't see her where she's expected to be. You tell yourself that you don't care as you make your way to training in the day and reading in the evening, and yet you still go back on your own words when you asked a passerby Ares kid on where his cabin leader was.
"She's dunking some kid's head into a toilet bowl." Of course she was.
You thanked the dude and went back on your way to your cabin. It's close to dusk, the sky is turning orange and the sun is dipping itself below the earth. You take your time returning to your cabin as you enjoy the way the sun slowly removes itself from anyone's viewing.
You wondered to yourself if things like these are what makes you weird or off-putting to some people.
Was enjoying nature and having niche interests only cute when it's done by girls pretty enough to be cool or if it's only in romance movies or books.
You don't find yourself weird, in fact you think all of your hobbies are pretty common and usual, and yet the way Clarisse had spoken to you at the library last week had made you feel unnatural.
You had wanted to do normal people things with her, but maybe your perception of normal is different to her.
Either way, you are pretty hurt with how she reacted. You loved her still, of course. It's kind of hard to unlike the girl you've been obsessed with since you were 15.
Once you finally reach your cabin, you quickly put down all of your books and your tiny sling back by the side before making it to the shower to refresh yourself before dinner.
You thought it hilarious of how hard you're trying not to care about Clarisse, and yet as you're cleaning yourself up, changing your clothes and attempting to read at least 15 pages of your World's Most Dangerous Beasts book, you could only think of her.
What would it take for her to think that you're cool, what kind of things did she want to do instead of listening to you yap around for 2 hours on what is an equivalent of a boring dinosaur facts, not that you really think dinosaurs are boring.
During dinner, you kept to siblings and had to make yourself finish your plate as your anxiety wrecking thoughts have a way of deriving you of an appetite. You also had to convince yourself to not search for her at the other tables which took more strength than one would expect.
But you succeeded, and you were now sure that the only obstacle left for the day was to try and fall asleep without the thoughts of her keeping you up.
Clarisse is a force, a fierce daughter of Ares, and a cabin leader who had much better things to do then hole up at quiet small places with you.
And just because she was nice enough to mantain a good relationship with you for 4 years, does not mean that you're worth her time. Or at least that's what you tell yourself.
That night, you managed to fall asleep after an hour of recalling Harpy facts in repetition. Counting sheeps had never worked on you, so you had to find something much more active to tire out your brain.
You dreamed of Clarisse with her hair down, holding your hand and pulling you closer so she could slip a flower on your ear.
And just as she's looking down at you, moving closer to do what it seemed like to kiss you, you awoke with a jolt, swearing under your breath as if you'd just gotten jumpscared by a ghost.
Someone's palms moved to shut your lips as you're met with a girl, hovering over you in the dark. Clarisse's dark eyes were recognizable, but it sent a shot of adrenaline through your body still.
"Shh." She whispered to your face, hand still keeping your mouth shut. "I'm going to remove my hands now." She whispered again. You nod in understanding and waited for her to pry her hand away from your face.
"What are you doing here?!" You exclaimed as quiet as possible as she helped you sit up.
"I'm sneaking you out." She answers with a wink. "It's 2 in the morning." You waved your hand around at the darkness and sleeping children. "3 in the morning, and yeah, I know. That's why it's called sneaking around." She corrects you with a grin so devilish that if you hadn't known her for a long time, you'd assume she's about to turn you into a new toilet bowl or dumpster boxing victim.
You sighed loudly and glared at her despite your fast beating heart. Her hand remained on top of yours until the minute becomes more awkward and she removes it as if she just remembered that she's been holding your hand.
Without explanation,  she climbed out of your bed and tiptoes to the open cabin door. You're still sitting up and looking at her with conflicted feelings.
Only after she turns back to you, cocking her head towards the entrance, do you give into her request and softly leave the comfort of your bed and trail after her.
"Where are we going?" You asked after her as she kept walking. Instead of responding, she asks you another question back, "Can you swim?"
"We're going swimming?" You watch her shrug in return from behind her and became even more distressed.
"So, is this your idea of having fun and hanging out then?" She laughs drily and slowed down so you could catch up. You walked fast enough until you're beside her and waited for her to talk. "You sound surprised, I would've thought that after 4 years of friendship, you'd know by now that I love doing things that includes active movements."
You did know that, it's a bit hard to not notice how much working out, training and running fuels her even more.
"And why are we doing it in the middle of the night?" The walk towards the lake by the back of the forest was short, considering that your cabin is the closest to the location.
You almost tripped and fell over a stick, but Clarisse was quick to scoop you back up by the back of your shirt. "Thanks." You mumbled to her. "And you haven't answered my question."
Clarisse pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it on the ground without caring of your presence. You, having more moral obligations than her, twisted your face to your left when she began to pull her trousers off. "Too many people in broad daylight." She tells you.
That is a valid reason, this lake is mostly known as a hook up spot, and true to it's cause, many dating campers have been caught together here during dawn or late evenings.
You braved yourself to turn towards her again slowly and realised that she had already hopped into the water. She had a sports bra on and a boxer.
And though you yourself had a tank top and shorts on, you contemplate the idea of suicide as a better choice than having to strip in front of her.
"Are you gonna get in, or are you just gonna gawk at me from there?" You were grateful for the dark being able to hide your flushed face from her, but deep down, you knew that she probably saw it anyways because of the shining bright moonlight.
"I can't swim." You told her.
"That's fine, the water's not very deep." You ransacked your brain for reasons to decline her offer, but at the same time, a small part of you yearned to take this risk that you've been so afraid of for gods knows whatever reason.
Clarisse is there, in the water and under the moonlight. You are only a few steps away from her. And like she said, the water isn't deep, only waist length. She stares back at you with a raised brow like she's challenging you to join her.
"Turn around first." You tell her. She smirked slightly before slowly spinning to the opposite direction. "You know I've seen you naked before right?"
"What?" You choked out, aghast. "Who do you think changed your clothes for you when you first got to camp." Oh, that.
Your shoulder relaxes as you realize she's talking about the first time you met. "That's was a long time ago." You noted. She hummed im agreement. "Yeah, we've both grown since."
You told her she could turn around once you're inside the water. Forgetting about the heighy difference between you two, the water was high enough to reach your chest, trying your best not to trip underwater the way you always do on dry ground, your hand instinctively reached outnfor her shoulder.
Clarisse held your forearm tightly and drew your closer to her until you're inches away from eachother.
You breathed in sharply and felt the need to fill in the awkward silence. "So, you...like swimming, huh?"
"Yes, evidently so." She answered. "Right right, can't sit still and all that." She actually chuckled at your sarcasm, making you proud of yourself.
"You know, even before I came to camp Half Blood, I use to be a pretty active person, running track, volleyball, sometimes swimming." Your eyes widened in curiosity. "Really?" She nodded.
"The counselor told my mom that I just had so many untapped energy, which I guess is a code for anger issues." Her grip on your forearm moves higher until her palm is over your shoulder.  "She told her that it'd be best for me to find a...healthy way, to channel that energy, and for my strong competitiveness. So I joined what I could, and that's how I spent most of my free time there. Besides, I never was that good academically. So, I ought to at least be good at something, right?"
"You are good." You blurted out. Your embarrassment faded away when you saw her smile. "You think so?"
"Yeah." You assured her. Her other hand had snaked around your waist without you noticing. Only when you moved slightly do you notice her holding you softly.
"The moon is really nice tonight, isn't it?" You said, trying to diffuse the tension. You pointed your finger up to the sky at the singular white orb.
She glanced up and let out a 'huh.'
"I like it when it's bright and whole like this, the moon in all of its glory. You don't even notice the starts around it when it's glowing like that." You could stare at the moom forever, even longer than the way you've been staring at the sun.
You believed in it the way children do with their birthday candle. To you, the moon has always been a symbol of hope or comfort for your future. Your fascination for it existed from when you were a child, the way it'd follow you from behind as you gazed upon it from the back of the car seat whilst your parent drove down the road.
The way it moved above you as you walked home from school, like one of the gods themselves watching over you.
"Nothing compares to the moon." You announced aloud, watching as the clouds around it began to gather over it. "Yeah, It's beautiful." You hear Clarisse speak.
As your head snapped back to her, you found that she had already been facing you.
"I like the moon...but not as much as I like you." She whispered loud enough for your ears only. Her face leans closer to yours, your noses brushing together. "Not as much as I like to hear your voice, when you tell me about your little harpy facts-"
"Oh, I haven't told you about the harpies yet." You cut her off. "I just finished that chapter this morning actually and-"
"-and, you can tell me about it after I'm done talking." You blushed and became silent, letting her speak.
Clarisse exhaled breathily, fanning your face with the subtle warm air. "I like doing things that friends do with you, but I don't want to be your friend anymore."
"Oh."
"I want to be more than friends." She elaborated.
"Oh." Oh.
You feel a sudden tightness in your chest, from anxiety or from butterflies is undecided. "You want to be best friends?" You joked, laughing nervously.
Clarisse snorted at your joke, but she was still grinning widely. "Best friends, If that's what you want to call it."
There was a moment of understanding shared between a second of shared gazes before her lips attached themselves to yours. An urgency, approval, meaning that can't be described by words.
Whatever gentleness there was inside of her before had vanished. Clarisse kissed you like a starved woman. Her lips craved yours like it'd be the last time she'll ever know how you taste like.
Your hands clasped on her shoulder and neck for support as she embraced you tighter to her body. You let her tongue slip into your mouth, meeting your own.
And as they danced together, inhaling all there is in your lips, every secret and every confession that have died on the tip ofnyour tongues, you are sure that no heaven nor hell could tear you open to see you back together like this.
You push her back abruptly, letting fresh air fill your empty lungs. "What's wrong?" Clarisse inquired worriedly.
"Last week." You sighed out, chest still heaving as your thoughts clicked together. "You thought I had asked you on a date, that's why you were disappointed."
She winced at the reminder, and for the first time in your life, you had been lucky enough to witness a flustered Clarisse.
"I'm right." Her silence confirmed. "Oh Clarisse, why didn't you just ask me?"
Huffing loudly, she rolls her eyes in irritation. "I thought I was obvious enough. "
Thinking back on it all, it did seem pretty obvious, but gods were you oblivious. The way you intepreted it all so wrongly.
"I've liked you for so long too." You admitted to her. Her scowl was gone at that, replaced by a teasing smile. "And what are you gonna do about it?" Her mouth returned to yours, letting go of all your fears and holding on to Clarisse like she's your anchor, you close the gap between your lips, welcoming the kind of pleasure that you've never tasted before.
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rinhaler · 6 months
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I will kiss you and hold you and pet you and call you a good girl if you write a toji os abt him having a one nightstand with someone and when he’s undressing them he unzips their dress WITH HIS TEETHHHHHHHHHHH AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA……….. anyways!!! :3
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am i a good girl now :(((
warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, soft dom!toji (maybe), alcohol consumption, squirting, fingering, face-sitting, vaginal sex, tit sucking, praise, slight degradation, reader passes out for a sec.
words: 2.4k
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“Can I buy you a drink?” a handsome stranger asks you as you sit by your lonesome at the bar. You came here with your friend, who has since disappeared since locating her ex-boyfriend. And you suspect he won’t be an ex for much longer. The attention makes you giddy. His scar pulling as he smirks at you, a grin that grows wider when you nod. He pulls out his card and waits to flag down a bar tender. “I’m Toji, by the way.”
You introduce yourself and you curse yourself for how pathetic you must seem. It’s embarrassing, really, feeling so accomplished that a man deemed you worthy enough to talk to and buy a drink for. He’s like a model, possessing a wide build and tall figure. He could have any woman here if he wanted, you’re sure. And despite your inner monologue telling you to act coy, you’re sure you’re a bashful fool.
He orders you the same blue lagoon cocktail you’ve already had three of, and himself a lemonade.
“You don’t drink?” you ask him.
“Nah, it doesn’t really affect me.”
You shrug, slurping the ice cold cocktail through a metal straw you brought from home. He smirks at that, noting that you’re the type to prepare this much for what he’s sure is meant to be a casual night out. And he asks you questions about yourself that you’re so willing to answer. You ask him questions about himself that he answers too, though the responses are surface level and simple. The mystery only adds to his allure.
He's funny, effortlessly. Everything he says seems to make you giggle. You’re a cliché, too, twirling your hair as you hang on his every word. It’s a mix or attraction and intoxication. Is he really so interesting and funny or are you just wet and transfixed by his looks?
Your laughter dies out when you feel a tap on your shoulder. It’s your friend, coming to say goodbye. She points at her ex and tells you she’s leaving with him.
So much for girl code.
Though she does offer you to hop in the taxi with them so you can go home. But you don’t want to leave Toji. You want to keep making a lovesick fool of yourself for him and maybe see where the night takes you. So she waves and you focus on the older looking man beside you. He licks his lips, his scar glistening under the everchanging technicolour lights flooding the club.
“Wanna get going, gorgeous?” he asks, leaning over to speak into your ear. The rough gravel to his voice rushing straight to your pulsing cunt. You shouldn’t, really, should you? It’s not smart to go home with guys you’ve never met. You don’t know him or his intentions, he could be plying you with alcohol to get you stupid enough to kill you.
“Mhmm.” you nod, dumbly, consequences be damned. If you die, you’ll die by the hand of a man so beautiful you’d think an angel would cry at his presence. He takes your hand, leading you outside and hailing a cab. You at least have the sense to go to your place, knowing your cousin lives a few doors down and will surely here if things go wrong.
He kisses you deeply in the back of the cab, fingers digging into your skin as he squeezes your plush thigh. You moan, lewdly, when he tells you to stick out your tongue and he sucks it before licking it with his own. Tongues tangling as he continues to squeeze and knead your malleable flesh.
“Head on up, I’ll follow you.” he tells you as he pulls out his wallet. You nod, agreeing, whispering your apartment number before clambering out of the car. The chill of the 2am air bites at your skin, and you hurry to the security door. You pull the key from your purse and rush inside.
Toji takes his time paying the driver, grunting as he puts his wallet away and slides out of his side of the car. He slowly skulks to the entrance, smiling when he realises you remembered to leave the latch for him to get inside. He sees a crowd gathered by the elevator and opts to take the stairs instead.
He smirks, gleefully, when he sees you waiting by the front door.
“Watcha doin’, gorgeous?” he wonders.
“Waiting for you.” you confess, looking down at your feet awkwardly as shame surges through your body.
He approaches, slowly. But before you know it you’re looking up at him and caged between his body and your front door. His hands rest against the frame as he studies your blown eyes and nervous face.
“Somethin’ tells me you’ve never had a one night stand before,” he smiles, scar pulling deliciously once again. You can barely form a thought unable to break yourself from the hypnotising mark on his lip. “Unlock the door.”
“I already did…” you gulp, nervously, still unable to tear your eyes away from his.
He likes your answer, picking you up so that your legs wrap around his waist and he lets himself into your home. Your lips lock and tongues clash as he controls the kiss, but your eagerness gets the better of you. Your hips rutting and soft moans pour from you as you portray yourself as a desperate slut for his benefit.
You pout, a little defeated, as he sets you back down. Though the disappoint dies an instantaneous death as he spins you around so your back is to him, pushing you into the wall by your entryway.
“Have you fucked a stranger before, princess?” he asks, brushing your hair from your shoulder and whispering devilishly into your ear. You shake your head, pathetic strings of ‘no!’ spilling from your lips as his fingers explore under your dress and pinch your ass. You bite your lip as you feel his heavy fingers prod at your drippy panties. He huffs out a laugh when he realises how wet you are. “Allllll of this jus’ for me? You shouldn’t have, darlin’.”
“B-Been wet… since you asked if I wanted a drink…” you tell him, giggling a little and hiding your face against the wall.
“No no no…” he objects, tugging your hair softly to draw you out. “Wanna see you, wanna see how you look when I ruin you.” you feel your body flush with heat at his words, turning your head to the side so he can see you again. You place your palms against the wall to brace yourself, not expecting him to pull your panties down your legs from under your dress.
He relishes in how you can barely keep your eyes open as he sinks two fingers into your sopping cunt and your panties drop to the ground. You bite your inner cheek, though it does little to keep you quiet as he curls his fingers against your spongy insides.
“Oh fuck.” you gasp, ashamed that you might cum after a few pathetic pumps of his fingers. Though it doesn’t feel right. You don’t want it to stop, but you don’t feel like you usually do when you’re close to cumming. “W-Wait.” you move your head and try to close your legs.
“Sh.” he stops you, kicking your ankles to keep your legs open. He holds your head against the wall with his forearm, his breathing heavy in your ear. You shudder when he kisses against it, chuckling quietly when he feels your pussy begin to clench. “Stop clenching, push. It’ll feel good, promise… push against me.” he commands.
You don’t know what’s he’s talking about. Push your body? No, he said stop clenching. You’re trying to keep him inside, keep the feeling inside. But he repeats it. Push. And like he’s the master of your cunt, it listens.
“Good girl, baby…” he praises you as he notes the pressure switch from your tender hole. You moan, and he coos. Faux sympathy as he fucks you dumb on his thick digits.
“Toji! Ngh—!” you moan. Clear liquid jets from your pussy, dripping down your thighs and soaking your panties and the floor beneath. He doesn’t let up, either, still battering his fingers against your g-spot.
“There you go, princess. Good fuckin’ girl… so good for me darlin’.” he moans, too, getting off on your pleasure and the striking realisation that you’ve never squirted before. He’s proud of himself, and he’s proud of you. “Fuckin’ soaked your pretty panties, sweetheart. Dirty little girl…” he teases.
You don’t have the energy to respond, already spent from cumming in such an alien way. He kisses your shoulder as your legs continue to shake. Any logic from the thought of telling him to stop fingering you dissipates when you think that he can you make you cum like that again.
He feels his hardened cock over his jeans as he looks down at the puddle beneath you. Still pumping his fingers against your sweet spot until your eyes roll over white. He can’t take it anymore. The unrelenting inner voice telling him to touch himself. He thinks he might die if he doesn’t stroke his length, even for a minute.
“Don’t move.” he orders.
You stay still, unsure of what he’s doing. Though you whimper as you feel his body press against yours. His head sinks to the top of your dress, and you just about cum again when you realise he’s biting down on the metal zipper, pulling it down with his teeth as exposing your bare back.
The black mini dress falls to the ground into the puddle of your lewdness and your drenched underwear.
“Good girl, stay there.”
He pulls off his t-shirt and tosses it aside down the hallway, only to be seen by the end of this dalliance. You hear him kick off his shoes and quickly throws away his socks. Eagerly, his pants follow, as do his underwear. He’s just as naked as you, now. And you choke out a breath as you hear him drop to his knees, licking up the mess on your thighs and pussy. But he turns around, sitting on his ass with his back against the wall, without a care for the wetness beneath. He wraps his arms around your thighs, pulling your cunt towards his face.
“Sit.” he instructs.
You do, without pause, moaning boisterously as he sucks at your clit and covers his face in your sweetness. One arm remains hooked around thigh while the other releases, hand in search of his aching length. He plays with himself, alternating between lazy strokes and passionate ones. The taste of your cunt makes him dizzy, unable to believe how much slick you’re producing as he relentlessly feasts on your flesh.
“F-fuck, Toji… finger me, please.” you beg. He’s leaking like crazy, and thinks your request might have come at the perfect time. He lets himself go in favour of pleasuring you, the sound of your sticky cunt squelching with each press throughout your eerie apartment. Neither of you had even found time to turn on a light, the only thing illuminating the room is the filtering light sneaking in through the cracks of your front door. “G’na cum, a-again… holy— s-shit.” you moan.
It spurs him on, maintaining all of his ministrations as he tries to coax your second orgasm out of you. He grunts, loudly, against your sodden folds as you squirt again. His face and hair doused with your release as he doesn’t dare pull away. The sadistic desire to prolong your ecstasy is fuelling him to keep going. He feels like he might cum untouched as he feels your cum cover him.
Your legs give, his burly arms hook around your thighs again in a bid to keep you stable. But his hands wander, impatiently. Fingers grip into your waist as he pulls you away from the wall.
He helps you down, hovering you above his longing cock as he guides it to your spent hole.
“I don’t have any condoms.” he tells you.
“Don’t care—” you assure him, wriggling your hips eagerly. “’m on the pill.”
“Greedy girl,” he smirks, pushing you down onto his cock. You want to scream from the stretch but you manage to refrain. He sets a ruthless pace, forcing you to accommodate to it quickly. “Been so sweet for me, darlin’. Gonna be nice ‘n do all the work for ya, okay? Say thank you.”
“T-Thank you! Thank you.” you babble nonsensically.
His knees are bent as he fucks up into your abused hole, the velocity propelling you forward. Your fingers clutch onto his shoulders for dear life as he takes advantage of your body being in such close proximity to his mouth. He sucks your tits, eliciting a dreamy moan from you. The gorgeous sounds you make for him have his cock drooling inside of your unprotected walls.
It's so sorrowful, really, thinking about how pathetic you both are. He seemed so calm and collected and yet neither of you could even make it through the hallway of your apartment before you were both stripped bare. You thought you’d be fucking comfortably on your bed. But here you are, being fucking destroyed by his monstrously large cock on the wooden, soaking, hallway floor.
“Gonna cum, baby.” he breathes against your spit soaked tits. The admission makes you cream, clenching around his thick, veiny cock as you brace yourself. “Fuck, darlin’, you’re gonna cum again. Can feel it, little cock slut. No one’ll fuck you like this again, y’know.”
“Ah- aaaah—!” is all you can say as a lesser stream of liquid shoots from you once more. The internal bliss you feel makes you pass out momentarily. But you come around quick enough to feel your untainted insides become stained with his white, creamy warmth.
He groans, deeply, bouncing you up and down his length. He wishes there was a light on to see the creamy ring and the messy puddle you’ve created together.
“You’re fuckin’ amazing, baby.” he tells you, grasping the crown of your head with his palm to guide you into a sloppy kiss. He manages to stand up whilst keeping himself slotted comfortably inside of you. You giggle as you guide him to the nearest light switch, and both of you look down at the mess you’ve made. Shame builds once again and you hide your face in the crook of his neck. “Awe, pretty girl made a dirty little mess f���me.” he teases you.
“Stop! ‘m so embarrassed!” you tell him, the sentence muffled as you talk into his skin.
“S’okay, rest up.” he tells you, stroking your back soothingly. “Give me a tour, wanna see the next place we can make a mess of.”
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© 2023 rinitxshi
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tteokdoroki · 6 months
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ೀ⋆OCT 31ST LEGALLY BLONDE ━━ seishiro nagi + coercion !
୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. seishiro nagi + coercion. there’s no way someone broke up with nagi because he’s too blonde!? poor baby, maybe you could provide a little emotional support…(5.5K)
୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, dark content, characters aged up to 20s, college!au, strangers to lovers (?), teaching assistant/student relationship, dom/sub dynamics, some switching, reader is lifted up by nagi, coercion, dubcon, handjobs, virginity loss, cherry chasing, oral fixation, mind break, praise kink, creampies, soft sex, clothed sex, unprotected sex, TA!reader, elle woods!nagi.
୨୧ — director’s note. happy halloween my loves! i hope you enjoy the final kinktober fic! its been super fun writing and editing for you all. stay tuned for the bonus in the coming weeks <3 - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧
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this law school thing wasn’t all what it cracked up to be. 
after the love of his life, reo mikage, had broken up with him for someone smarter, blander and richer than him — nagi had been blessed with the genius idea of following his ex all the way to one of the top law schools in the world. the plan was practically fool proof, the guys at his sorority worked hard to help seishiro study — pulling all nighters for practice tests and rewarding him with naps every time he had gotten a question right. 
rin itoshi had even convinced his parents to reach out to a hollywood director so that they could film nagi’s audition tape. it obviously featured isagi and bachira too. nagi had even worn his best designer swim trunks to impress the board of admissions. they’d all been super supportive of the light haired male in his endeavours and were there when he passed his LSAT exam
with all of this combined, he had managed to get in in — if that wasn’t enough for reo, then what was?
the answer? nothing.
reo still wanted that bland, basic bitch his family was marrying him off to. she was sensible, she was rich and seishiro quickly realised that he had only ever been a bit of ditzy fun to reo — a dumb blonde to stick his dick into whenever the time felt right. eye candy and nothing more. balancing his shattering hard with the complexities of law school had been tough for the white haired male and everything seemed to be going wrong. no one would study with him, reo wouldn’t even look at him and his friends back home were busy with the wedding plans nagi so desperately wished he had. 
however, that’s when you came along. 
after having the epiphany that he didn’t need reo to succeed — nagi knuckles down and studied hard for the law firm internship being offered amongst his cohort. he was relieved to have you as a teaching assistant in the process, not only were you absolutely gorgeous but you were compassionate and empathetic. you were smart, eloquent and everything seishiro wished he could be for his ex.
perhaps that’s what drew him to you, why he followed your every word like a puppy drooling after a treat. you’d been kind to nagi for the entire semester, from helping him out with studying for the internship right down to today, where he would be taking on his very first case in a court of law. it should have been easy, the facts were simple too. the client and fellow fraternity brother  (shidou ryousei) was accused of and arrested for the murder of his wife… but something about the events weren’t seeming to add up. nagi couldn’t come up with an alibi either. 
it was as if the words; the reasonings, the justification for shidou’s freedom were right in front of grey-scale eyes, only scrambled up like morse code. “how about we take a break?” as if you were a vision from his dreams or an angel from up above, you appear behind nagi’s tall frame as he slumps defeatedly against the hotel room desk — your hands fixing themselves to his broad shoulders for a massage. “you’ve been at this all night, seishiro.”
the law student swears your touch could heal all human ailments, the warmth of your palms seeping into the tense parts of his muscles like a cell performing diffusion — relaxation forming a comfortable fog over his brain. “i know shidou didn’t do it,” nagi defends with a grumpy pout, leaning back into you so that his head rests lazily against your stomach. “he told me… he said he was getting liposuction.” 
“we’ll need evidence of that,” you note, jerking your head to the side so that nagi can write it down. this entire time you’d been such a good mentor. “good boy.” something clicks in the light-haired male’s brain, a crackle of electricity shooting down his spine at your praise — swirling around in his guts as if to activate arousal.  “run me through the witness statements again.” there’s a sensual lilt to the tone of your voice and your touch cascades from his shoulders up to his neck like a backwards flowing waterfall.
seishiro isn’t sure if he’s making things up or reading the signs correctly — but he knows that there’s some kind of tension bubbling in the air. particles that resemble an aphrodisiac using kinetic energy to collide together, painting the room with lustful colours. “shidou’s step daughter says she heard a gunshot around 2:15pm after leaving the shower, walkin’ downstairs only to find shidou hangin’ over his wife’s body — covered in blood. ugh, this is too much hassle. this doesn’t make any sense!” he tosses an annoyed sigh into quietness of the room, moaning in surprise when you cup the base of nagi’s neck to pull his head up to face you and your eyes meet.
“you need a break seishiro, we can come back to this later,” you hum, the vibrations of your voice laced with sex appeal. as he swallows thickly, the law student’s Adam’s apple bobs under the pressure of your fairy-light grip on his throat — anticipating more from you. at this point, you’re half bent over him as he leans back in the chair, pink tongue slowly darting out to cover your lips in a spit shine. “how about it?” 
this feels so wrong. nagi’s cock stirring beneath his slacks at how good and kind you’re acting towards him. no one has ever gotten him this hot before — no one aside from reo. and you were still his teacher, by technicality, it would be wrong for nagi to even consider sucking your tongue down his throat. and yet, he can’t find it in himself to stop the temperature from rising between you, for falling into your dangerously salacious trap. 
“y-yeah,” he breathes deep when you squeeze his throat a little to test the waters. “i could do with a break.” 
“me too,” you gasp all too agreeably, bending the rest of the way down to capture seishiro’s lips in a searingly hot kiss. just as he wished you pry his mouth open with the tip of your curious tongue — pushing through his plush lips and curling around his own pink appendage. the lip lock is passionate, ravenous despite the mess and spit that you exchange. he chases your lips until he can’t breathe, sloppily accepting anything you give him, letting you lead where he can’t. 
he’s never done this before, not like this, not without reo. but in this moment, the silver-blonde doesn’t think he could ever go back to making out with his ex. not now that you’re the one kissing him. 
“i-i've never done any of this before.” the blonde gulps, swallowing down the copious amount of spit that builds on the palette of his tongue — looking into your eyes as a sense of hunger dawns on him, as if you’re the very meal he’s set to devour. “not without anyone that wasn’t—“
reo. 
sure they’d done stuff together. naughty touches here and there, hands ghosting over boxer briefs and fingers tweaking nipples (sei’s were especially sensitive because of the cute little piercings his ex insisted he get) — but nothing close to actual sex, nothing with a girl, nothing with someone like you. a burning heat, unlike anything nagi’s ever felt before, begins to brew in his lower stomach. his cock rises beneath his pants that suddenly feel all too tight.
nagi’s girth twitches against his thigh as your nails rake their way down his chest and slowly pop open the buttons of his crisply pressed white shirt. it heaves beneath his clothes — heart hammering against its calcium cage of his ribs. 
“i can tell, pretty boy.” you soothe him by purring into the shell of his ear, teeth tugging at the softness of his lobe. “but you’re a good kisser though. did reo teach you that?” your lips cascade down to his neck like a gentle flowing river at the same time that your hands delve below the belt to squeeze at seishiro’s swelling erection — testing the waters. 
his hips instinctively buck up into the warmth of your palm and a grin spreads across your plush lips at the feeling of his precum soaking his underwater and smearing across your fingers in thick, clingy webs. 
white and seedy and he’s nowhere close to cumming. almost like a little virgin. 
“have you ever done this before, seishiro?” 
the sound of his name, salaciously spelt out on his tongue, earns you a high pitched whine from nagi — his head rolling to the side and his thighs squeezing together with vicious need. “n-no,” he pauses before he grunts out a response and his entire body seizes as you take a firmer grip on his cock — jamming a thumb into his leaky slit to spread his arousal. “but i wanted to i just… reo said not until marriage—“
“— you don’t have to listen to reo anymore.” you announce breathily, setting a steady pace to your fist to jerk him off with. you’ve barely started and yet your hand is already glossed in a slight sheen of pre, soiling your knuckles from its viscousness. it’s so much for someone who’s never gone father than sloppy kisses and grinding while making out. it nurtures a certain seed of satisfaction in your chest to see him so messy so fast. “you can listen to me, sweet boy. do you want this… do you want it with me?” 
without letting go of the fat, drippy cock within your grasp — you shift to stand between the desk and nagi’s chair, shoving papers and court notes to the ground in your lustful haze. nagi thrusts lazily into your closed fist as if it’s instinct, following the sensation like a moth takes to a candle light. his grey eyes grow murky like a pond, swimming with desire for you and only you.
who was reo mikage to seishiro nagi? when there was an angel like you willing to feed this inexperienced man morsels of a heavenly pleasure he’s never felt before. the lawyer in training nods at your words like an eager man fallen to siren’s song as bait. “i want you,” he whimpers airily. “i wanna with you.” 
you rub down his thick, lengthy dick far enough to have your fingertips briefly brush against seishiro’s sensitive, weightly balls — just pulsing full of seed to give to you. the feeling makes nagi jump up from his seat so that he immediately towers over you. his height doesn’t overwhelm you, not when the towering blonde collapses onto you with a case of the shakes. he trembles above you, supporting himself by using one hand on the table while is mouth sloppily finds your neck to suck on and pacify himself.
“good boy, sei,” you coo, voice as sweet as hot sugar or candy. “i want you too. i always have. you’re such a pure, darling boy. glad to see that it’s true.” your praise is hidden in your soft moans as seishiro licks at the crystalline salt on your bare skin. you’re a little too twisted, taking advantage of his inexperience and his position beneath you as a student, but neither of you seem to care in this very moment. 
sweat beads against nagi’s hairline like diamonds on an expensive Chanel necklace and roses bloom across his cheeks with exertion — his hips rise and fall into your sticky fist in fluid motions, changing the steady stream of ecstasy you provide him. your hand is a solace for his aching cock, but you still make your student work for it. make nagi chase you since he only works hard for the things he wants. and right now, he wants to reach the end of the tight rope of pleasure you have him walking on. and to stave off the stormy frustration he feels from the case.
your hand wriggles it’s way into his wet silver locks, dragging nagi’s hungry mouth over yours since he’s so desperate to taste you, to have at you. it shows in the way he roughly grabs your hips too, grip so tight it threatens to leave bruises he’ll have to apologise for later. “ngh… please. g-god. miss…a-angel please,” he stutters, his bucking into your hand faster and harder, back and forth, back and forth through the tight ring of your fist. his bright and angry red cockhead peeks through the other side, glazed in opaque white — it’s a nice feeling, blistering hot and sensitive. “i…hah… gotta—“
nagi’s lashes flutter against your cheek — a strained whine reverbing in the base of his throat while you let him fuck your hands to his heart’s content, let him chase this new pleasure he’s never known. let him fall from the high heavens with blackened and burnt angel’s wings. you make him sin, for the first time ever. something about this should feel off to nagi, his law teacher taking advantage of him like this — but at this point, he’s too far gone, drowning in a hellfire of lust. 
mocking his moans, your mouth falls open in one of your own as you follow along with the pitiful expressions crossing the contours of seishirou’s face. “what is it, sei? what do you need?”
the room is too hot. your bodies against each other are temperate in the sex tainted air — accompanied by wet slapping sounds from your hand around his throbbing cock. “n-need to let go. it h-hurts,” he sniffles out, forcing his tongue into your mouth again to calm himself down. the more you speed up, remorselessly jerking him off, the closer nagi gets to the end of his own tether. this sensation is unfamiliar, the crumbling foundation of his orgasm coming crashing down as you fling droplets of his precum and arousal about the place — some of it landing on your clothes, the desk and discarded papers. 
again, neither of you care. 
“surrender to me baby, it’s okay. i’ve got you.” guiding the pale blonde through his first ever orgasm, you pour your heated words into his slobbering mouth — tongue running over his pearly white teeth and tangling with his drool coated tongue. that’s all sei needs to hear before he crumples against you with a shout — the first wave of his high crashing over him and pulling him under. 
it’s world shattering, brain melting as he cums. his abdomen contracts under your never-ending touch, ropes of hot white dribbling from his stimulated tip like a tap that keeps running. nagi swears he almost blacks out, falling dizzy and victim to your lustful charms as he twitches and cums and cums into your soiled palm. 
“f-fuck,” a soft whimper bubbles up on his raw bitten lips, stuttered out in suprise. “w-what was that?” 
“you orgasmed for me, sei, so pretty baby.” comes another set of your gentle praises. he feels his entire body wrack with a shakes at your words, his cock doesn’t dare to soften either. “you look so good when you cum.” 
his greyish-brownish eyes roll back into his skull when you let him go, his tip slapping against his clothed tummy. the brush of his cotton shirt against the slit on his tip makes him writhe from the sensitivity. “c-can i cum for you again? promise i’ll keep being good.” 
“of course,” you grin, proud that to have corrupted the poor boy. “are you okay to let me touch you again or do you want it now?” 
“touch me. now.” he growls, gripping your hand and guiding it towards his dribbling shaft, aiding the movement of your palm around him to start slow and lazy — working seishiro up into a heat once more. this time, the way your hand languidly jerks him off is made smooth by the evidence of his last orgasm, which you now use as lube. if you weren’t pressed for time and with a court case first thing tomorrow, you would have gotten onto your knees to clean up his copious amounts of mess. 
you quickly reduce him to a babbling mess against you, drool laden on his tongue and dripping onto his skin as you drive your thumb over nagi’s hot tip in tight circles with your free hand — touching what doesn’t fit in the other. “reo treated you so badly, poor baby,” you mewl sweetly, kitten licking at his pulse point just below his neck. “you work so hard, you deserve so much better. you deserve me.” 
he believes you, blindly and naively. nodding tenderly despite the way he widely fucks both of your hands as if they’re a makeshift hole — warm and slick, all for him. dopamine shocks him at the stem of his brain, spreading throughout his body like a wildfire only you can tame — it burns so good and  feels even better to have your dainty, perfectly manicured fingers wrap around his chubby girth so deliciously.
for a moment, you let seishiro go to squeeze at his heavy breeder’s balls — noticing the way they pulsate in your palm to signify the pale blonde’s second impending orgasm. “i think…hah… i think ‘m gonna… c-cum! again!”
pushing at his shirt, you press a kiss to the creamy skin of nagi’s shoulder and hum pridefully. “thank you for letting me know, sweetheart. cum for me. give it to me.”
with your permission granted, another blinding ecstasy takes over nagi, and he falls victim to you and your merciless hands once again. blood rushes through his ears like a storm surge, drowning at your angel coos while you guide him through his high, never letting up as you palm him through it all. he quivers and his knees buckle, shooting a hot and hefty load of seed all over your hand and clothes and the papers nearby.  “o-oh! fuck…” nagi chokes on a weak sob, bleating like an innocent lamb at the slaughter house while he weighed against your shorter frame — allowing you to bare the brunt of his weight and height. 
he’s so pretty when he cums, silvering blonde locks matted to his forehead by sweat — cheeks pink and lips swollen and red. if you could, you’d swallow him whole and selfishly devour your student for all that he has to offer. silly little blonde, stupid for trusting you, for wanting to fuck you.
your hand doesn’t slow around his pulsing cock but instead speeds up, digging your thumb into his oozing slit as arousal pearls at its centre once more. “n-no, s’too much.” seishiro cries quietly, tears stinging a pathway down the apples of his milky cheeks. “it hurts.” 
“poor you, poor baby.” you say harshly, mocking the poor blonde’s sniffles and hiccups. he’s exhausted and frustrated but doesn’t dare to pull away — his hips running after your hand hungrily. “you’re so cute sei, panting for me like a bitch in heat, fucking my hand like the dumb little blonde you are.” he hisses at the overstimulation, gargles on spit as it floods his mouth to accompany his appetite for you. 
“i’m not…ngh… ‘m not dumb.” he whinges in response and before either of you know it, seishiro is cumming again. hard. soiling his lap with abundant amounts of white. his chest heaves as he comes down, collapsing against you. he might deny it later, but being dumbed down and reduced to a stupid blonde seemed to really do it for him. 
finding his lips again, you soothe nagi with short and sweet kisses that grow more feverish by his own demand. all of a sudden you find yourself pinned to the desk below with the tall blonde between your instinctually parted legs so that he can grind against your panty clad core. “you’re…you’re right,” you say, breathing deep through your nose as your composure threatens to fall apart. “you’re so smart, sei. you’re the best lawyer on our team but…” bucking your hips once, you lower your voice by an octave so that your words slip through his ears like molten chocolate. “you’re acting like a dumb slut right now. don’t you wanna be my dumb slut, sei?”
his palm flattens against the mahogany desk just above your head, caging you in against its cold surface. “y-yes i do, oh fuck. please lemme fuck you. lemme be inside. i’ll be good.” 
“are you sure, baby?” 
“please—“ 
“but sei,” you brush a stray hair that curls at the centre of his forehead, the dumb blonde looking down at you with swimming grey eyes because he’s so needy. “it’d be your first time…” 
his face scrunches, nose crinkled at its bridge and brows knitted together in frustration. now that nagi’s had a taste of your sinful elixir he can’t seem to stop, you’re like a drug an addict can’t quit. something that could ruin his life or future prospects if he doesn’t get help. and yet he can’t look away, can’t pull his body away from yours and his achy dick from between your thighs — instead leaning closer so that it sinks between your plush pussy lips. 
nagi licks his lips, tongue rolling over his bottom one as he pants desperately. “please angel,” comes his broken beg, hanging pathetically in the sex tainted hair. “i need you. need it so bad. please please please— mph—!”
satisfied with his begging, you shove a set of cum soaked digits past the swell of seishiro’s pretty lips — chuckling darkly as his tongue laps over and in between them, and he whines at the salty taste of his arousal on your skin. “atta boy,” you coo, thrusting deep into the hot cavern of his mouth until the pale blonde gags around you, swallowing your fingers down like they’re a cock. he sucks so obediently, so desperately as if to please. like a good student too — and all the while, you work on kicking off your panties and flipping up your skirt so that he can get a nice rewarding view of your glistening cunt. 
“c’mere,” you reach out to the blonde and he leans into you, letting you wrap an arm around his shoulders to keep him in place. “sei,” you gasp at the first contact of his thick, long shaft against your throbbing wet mound — mouth agape as if you’ve taken a gunshot wound to the chest. “do you know how to do this, smart boy? do you know how to fuck?”
nagi nods, pressing his forehead to yours while his hips jut forward on their own and his seedy tip brushes against your pearling clit so deliciously. at first, his movements are lax and the room is filled with the lewd squelches of your sexes moving over one another, but your breathing soon grows ragged and the salacious bump and grind becomes stickier and wetter. 
“u-uhuh.” he mumbles in response.
he’s so good for you even when his mouth is full and his mind is dazed, sucking on your fingers while he lets you overwhelm him. however, the blonde is only so well behaved and patient, and it’s not long before he slips his girth past the tight ring of your entrance without any warning. his fingertips dance up to your waist, grabbing at the fat there and using it as leverage to drag you to the edge of the table so he can sink into you further.
“oh…fucking hell!” you whimper wetly against the junction of nagi’s neck, nails digging into his shoulders to steady yourself while he sets the pace to your sinful dance. he’s bigger than what you expected (despite mapping his girth out with your hands), stretching your sloppy walls wide to accommodate for his size. you don’t complain, however, eyes rolling as he brushes up against pleasure spots you could never reach on your own. “o-oh baby, fuck me.” 
you pull your fingers out of his mouth with a lewd pop, desperate to hear the symphony of his sweet, low and sexy moans instead of having them muffled by your fingers while he fucks you for the first time. the pale blonde can hardly believe it — having your warmth wrapped around him and your cunt drool down on him like a waterfall. 
the law student throws his weight into fucking you, bullying his way into the deepest parts of your womb to slothfully fuck up your gooey insides. your cunt, your moans, your whole body has some kind of control over nagi — dumbing him down and reducing him to a sex crazed mess. to the point where he can’t even remember his ex’s name. he’s a mop of pale blonde hair and sweaty clothes, entirely hunched over you. 
“y-you’re so tight,” he tells you in a dreamy sigh, lost in the heat of your core. nagi’s grabs at your pudgy thighs and drags you back and forth onto his dick, the new deepness to his thrusts causing you to squeeze and froth around the fat base of nagi’s cock. “hah, feels so…so good.” 
wrapping your shaky legs around his slender waist, you offer up the same treatment to nagi — pulling him close to the point where he’s buried in your sluice sex right up to the hilt. his precum smears against your ribbed walls and his broken whimper echoes around your hotel room. “that’s it, fuck me like you fucked my hand, sweet boy.” lust sparks against your sex slicked bodies, your breasts bouncing with every one of nagi’s calculated yet sloppy thrusts. you can’t get enough of one another, clinging and clawing at one another’s bodies madly. “you can do it, prove to reo that you don’t need him. only me.” 
“o-only you.” nagi repeats weakly, tucking his face into your neck as he pounds you to the high heavens. the desk creaks beneath the force of his thrusts, threatening to break at the nails and bolts that hold it together. his eyelashes flutter against your skin, his low and deep moans mixed with high pitched gasps send a hot rush of dopamine across your brain and it really is all too much. 
nagi’s already cum three times and managed to fold you in half over his desk as a virgin. he feel as though he might break with how much he loves this, loves fucking you senseless. another fresh set of tears burn tracks down his face and gather in his unfairly long lashes as they tickle your skin. he hiccups and heaves against you, whilst his breathing grows ragged every time his glistening cock escapes the snugness of your tight pussy, precum stringing along your puffy folds. 
“so good baby, s-so fucking good!” your voice is broken and husky as you praise him, making his dick pulse against your g-spot over and over again. you’re fairing no better than he is, your skin blistering hot to the touch and bruised from how tight your student is gripping you — pulling you back onto his cock.
the pale blonde feels though he might burst, cream your insides like he did your hand and ruin that pretty skirt of yours — the one that sticks to his pelvis because of how close your bodies are. it’s rubbed him raw while he fucks you raw. “‘m i the best?” seishiro asks, cherishing the embrace of your viscous walls, his shaft coated in a crude mix of white as it froths from your tight little hole. “t-tell me i’m the best…” 
“t-the best i’ve ever had! f-fuck, sei!” you squeal in response, only egging the law student on, babbling your praises while fat droplets of your arousal flies about the place — painting nagi’s pelvis in a shiny gloss, curling in his white happy trail as well. 
“‘m the best. i’m the best for you.” grunting from the exertion and the very force of his own thrusts, seishiro wraps both of his strong arms around your middle and stands up from the table — taking you with him. at the new angle, the coil in your stomach only tightens and you fling your arms around his neck to prepare yourself for what’s to come next. “s’not enough, not deep enough. fuuuck you’re so wet and warm. i-i can’t,” he drawls lowly, nipping at the shell of your ear on instinct. 
that’s when seishiro begins to use his sheer strength to lift and drop you back onto his thick girth, fucking up into you at the exact same time. “g-good god!” you cry out, your impending orgasm prickling at your pelvis — shooting down each section of your spine. all of it only serves to spur nagi on. 
“give me your fingers,” he demands huskily, cantering into you from bellow — your juices running a steamy track down his heavy balls as they harshly smack against your peachy ass. “wan’ suck on ‘em. give ‘em.”
you don’t have time to register his ask because he grabs your wrist before your mind can even catch up (too occupied with the way he’s churning up your guts) and has two of your fingers in his eager little mouth — sucking on them diligently. you shudder as nagi runs his tongue between them, coats them in spit and drool that tracks across his chin once he’s done with them. 
“touch yourself for me?” he pleads through a wet whine, almost too innocently. “wanna see you cum this time.” 
it’s only then that you realise he’s been holding himself back, staving off his orgasm so he can see you writhe and gush all for him. the overstimulation must be burning at his brain, sizzling off his nerve endings and it’s probably more than the dumb little blonde virgin can take. so you do as he asks, trailing your spit slicked fingers between your bodies as they grind down on one another and you with your sensitive clit, pulling its hood back to draw tight circles over the pleasure nub. 
“o-oh! seishiro!” 
“that’s right, touch yourself f’me. wanna see you lose it like you make me lose it,” he moans softly constraining with how rough nagi pounds up into you. one of his hands slips from your hips to grope at your ass, pushing you down on him and forcing his cock to grind against that one special spot threatening to make you break. “‘m sorry,” he whimpers as though he’s going to cry. “d-don’t think i can hold back, angel.” 
“then don’t,” you gasp at the new friction, holding onto your last strings of sanity as you fumble with your clit tucked away between your ravaged folds. “i know you wanna cum for me, sei. l-let go, yeah? wanna see you break for me, like a good blonde slut.” 
your encouragement doesn’t give seishiro much choice, and while he’s in control of your bodies — his lean, strong frame anchoring you down onto his cock as it bullies your insides, you are in control of his mind. you destroy his train of thought, ruin the self-made man he was and send him tumbling into his final high. nagi’s orgasm breaks the surface viciously, pouring another load of his cum against your ripe and rippling walls. there’s still so much of it, the warm and viscous white seeping from your cunt and smearing all over your hot mound. 
the force of nagi’s high is so strong that he nearly drops you, just about managing to pin you safely to the desk once more. he’s still cumming and cumming and cumming — but that doesn’t stop him from thrusting into you hard and fast, desperate to trigger your orgasm so he can reward himself. it doesn’t take long, he’d already had you seated on the edge before his mind had shattered to pieces just from fucking you. 
you gush down his length and all over what remains of your shitty case notes (he probably didn’t need them anyways) with a pornographic shout when you finally hit your peak. it’s like the crescendo of a beautiful song — the world around you spinning and flashing white as you squirt and gush for the white haired lawyer. 
“f-fuck.” you giggle with a soft smile, fatigue washing over the both of you come down from the gates of heaven — crashing back down to earth with ecstasy still buzzing in your veins. “good boy, sei. you did so good for me,” you hum softly. “do you feel any better?” 
seishiro looks up at you from where his heavy frame has collapsed on your chest — clothes sweaty and askew, and offers you a lazy grin in return. “better,” he mumbles meekly and kisses a slither of your exposed skin, still grinding his seed into you as if to make sure it sticks. “thank you.” 
bringing a hand up to toy with his hair and soothing him, you nod. “good, we should get some rest, you’ve got a big trial tomorrow, pretty boy.” 
“do you think I can do it?” 
“i know you can, sei.” you scratch at his scalp. “i meant it. what i said earlier. you’re the best lawyer on our team. shidou’s defence stands a pretty good chance.” 
nagi grins once more, only this time he leans up to press a chaste kiss to your unexpecting mouth — pouring all of his gratefulness into it. 
because thanks to you, he feels more confident about the trial, — almost as if he’s won the trial already. and even if nagi goes lose, at least he’s won you over.
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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papercorgiworld · 19 days
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I pretty please request a little fic abt Enzo being jealous, you write him so well 🙁
“I’m your brother’s best friend, I'm allowed to be jealous.”
A jealous Enzo Berkshire x Nott!reader imagine 
Cedric asking you out has innocent Enzo freaking out.
Warning: a little bit of smut, little bit
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“Doesn’t it bother you?” Blaise asks as he looks at Theodore who stares at you and Enzo entering the great hall laughing. “What?” Theo asks lazily. “That Enzo’s drooling over your sister?” Theodore snorts. “No, it doesn’t bother me. Rather Enzo than Matt.” Mattheo’s brows furrow as his eyes roll to Theo, raising his hands offended with his mouth still stuffed with food. “What’s wrong with me?” Mattheo says after quickly swallowing his food, but is quick to add: “On second thought, don’t answer that question.” Blaise chuckles but returns his focus on Theodore, asking silently to answer his earlier question seriously. “Enzo’s a good guy.” Theo explains. “I kinda hope they’ll end up together. He’ll be good to her and she’ll be good for him. Enzo doesn’t get into fights and he’s not a possessive psycho. He’ll treat her right.” Mattheo’s eyes knit together again. “Why do I feel so attacked?” Theodore ignores him and continues with a hushed voice since Enzo and you are approaching. “I kinda hope he’ll finally make a move.” Blaise raises his eyebrows and shakes his head. “Don’t hold your breath mate.” Enzo plops down next to Blaise. “Hold your breath for what?” Theodore smirks. “For Dumbledore to give slytherin points for something.” A soft laugh leaves your lips. “Never happening.” Enzo’s eyes focus on your smile as you fill your plate. That smile. 
Enzo was madly in love with you, but you were Theo’s little baby sister so he assumed you were off limits for him. However, Cedric Digory wasn’t friends with Theodore so there was no reason for him to stay away from you. You and Cedric had been good friends for years, much to Enzo’s dismay and every year you got prettier and every year Cedric showed more interest in you and every year Enzo ended up hating Cedric more. 
***
“Oh all bowtruckles in a tree! He asked you out!” Luna's eyes go wide, not believing what she had just heard. You nod and smile, leaving the classroom. “Yes, I know, crazy, right?” But your joy instantly disappears when you see Enzo approaching, his soft demeanour changing with every step he takes. Enzo was the best, but every year you noticed how he got more and more annoyed with guys showing interest in you. He also had made it very clear that nothing would ever happen between you two because bro code and stuff. Honestly, the most ridiculous thing ever, especially since your brother had the hottest friends ever. Right now, you were seriously getting annoyed with Enzo, what did he expect of you, to stay single forever? Not happening. “Who asked who out?” Enzo forces a smile as his eyes move between you and Luna. You sigh. “Cedric asked me out.” You say, bracing yourself for whatever irrational argument Enzo was gonna throw at you. “Ah, yes, that ‘good’ friend of yours that I’ve been warning you about since forever. I told you that guy is only after one thing-” You make eye contact with Luna and raise your eyebrows, before interrupting Enzo. Leaning a bit his way you whisper: “Well, I hope so, because honestly Enz, I’m only after one thing as well.” Your voice sounds bittersweet to Enzo and he watches you and Luna walk away giggling. He clenches his jaw as he considers his options. Talk reason into you, impossible. Punch reason into Cedric, not my style. Or be a tattletale and spill the news to your brother...
***
“She’s going on a date with Digory!” Enzo yells as soon as he enters the slytherin common room and spots Theodore. Theo looks up to see a fuming Enzo approach. “You should do something.” Enzo says, calming down a bit, but also annoyed by the lack of response from Theo. “Like what?” Theodore asks eyebrows knitting together as he folds the newspaper he was reading before Enzo stormed in. “Tell her not to go. The guy’s bad news.” Theodore lazily stares at Enzo. “The guy’s a Hufflepuff, he’s barely news, let alone bad news. And tell her not to go… You obviously don’t know much about siblings, but let me tell you this: they don’t listen.” 
“What! You’re just gonna let her?” Theodore was getting a little frustrated with Enzo’s tone and Mattheo could barely keep himself from laughing at seeing Enzo so upset. “Yeah, as long as she doesn’t date Mattheo I’m good with it.” Theo says with a bit of a sterner voice and Mattheo frowns feeling offended a second time today, but Enzo’s clearly angry with Theo and shakes his head. “You rather have her date someone like Cedric than one of your friends?!” There���s silence but Enzo’s just so terrified of you going out and falling in love with someone while he’s left pining, that all his feelings boil over into anger. “What kind of a shit brother are you!”  At those words Theodore gets up in a second, almost pressing his head against Enzo’s to make sure Enzo gets the message. “I’m not a shit brother and I never said that I'd rather have her date Cedric than one of my friends, just not Mattheo but trust me Berkshire if you keep this crap up then you’ll be out of my sister’s life in no time.”
Enzo’s so angry that he can barely process what Theodore is saying, but he’s sane enough to walk away and not pick a fight with his friend and the brother of the girl’s crushing on. 
“Why always use me as the definition of trouble?” Mattheo complains, making Theodore roll his eyes. “Cause you are, I just hoped we had at least one sane friend in our group, but apparently Enzo’s just as dysfunctional as the rest of us.” Theodore sighs, unclenching his fists and sitting back down.
 ***
You leave your classroom to find a shaky Enzo pacing the hallway. When he spots you he immediately walks over to you and you can see the nervousness in his eyes. “What's wrong?” You ask as his hand firmly wraps around your arm. “We need to talk. Now.” His voice is urgent and his eyes avoid yours. “Enzo calm-” “No, it’s important.” Enzo snaps at you and pushes a door open, shoving you into a broom closet. “You can’t go out with him.” Enzo states as soon as he closes the door behind him. There’s a dim light that lights his pained face just enough for you to see. “Enzo-” Your voice is soothing, but Enzo’s too afraid of what you’ll say so he continues to rant. “It physically hurts when I think of you being with someone else, loving someone else. So just, I beg you, just don’t go out with him.” He sighs and moves a hand over his sweaty forehead. “I almost had a fight with your brother, because I’m freaking out and I’m freaking out because I know Cedric is a good guy and you like him and you’ll love him and forget about me and I- I-.”
You grab his face and place an urgent kiss on his lips, hoping you’ll keep Enzo from spiralling any further, but to your surprise he suddenly spirals into a whole different direction. Eagerly kissing back, one hand finding the small of your back as he takes a step towards you pushing you against the wall of the small closet you’re in. “I need you.” Enzo breathes lips only inches away from yours and his eyes piercing you, silently begging you to let him love you. “Let me have you.” His husky hungry voices make your knees go weak. “Have me, Enz.” You whisper, meeting his lips with an equal amount of hunger. What took you so long. He kisses you until you're out of breath then he leaves sloppy kisses on your jaw, before sucking at the flesh of your neck like you taste divine to him. His hands lustfully trace every inch of your body, squeezing the flesh of your thighs and ass. “I’ll make you love me.” Your eyes roll to the back of your skull at the sound of his determined voice. Not that you needed him to do anything, you had already fallen for him before he had even seen you as someone more than just Theo’s sister. However, you were more than enjoying Enzo working for your love. 
***
You straighten your skirt and do your best to comb your hair with your fingers to look as decent as possible after what Enzo had just done to you in that tiny closet. “You look fine.” Enzo ensures smiling at you adoring your beauty as you stand there nervously watching if anyone has seen you two leave the broom closet. You force a weak smile and Enzo can’t help but get nervous as well. Though not about getting caught with you, but about whether or not he had convinced you to not go out with Cedric. Even having you moan and cry his name wasn’t enough to reassure him that you were his. He needed to know. “Are you still going out with him?” Enzo blurs and your eyes meet his. Is he for real? “Was this really all because Cedric asked me out?” Enzo shrugs, a bit embarrassed about how he had acted. A soft chuckle leaves your lips. “Really Lorenzo Berkshire you got jealous?” His hands sink into his pockets and he stares at the floor, thinking of a good response. “I’m your brother’s best friend, I’m allowed to be jealous.” 
You frown at his silly excuse. “Pretty sure Matt’s my brother's best friend and even if you were that’s not an excuse at all. Neither does it excuse what you just did to me in that closet.” Enzo takes a step closer to you and meets your eyes. “What do you want me to say?” Your eyes drown in his. “The truth Enz.”
He takes a deep breath, before confessing. “I’m so incredibly jealous, because I’m in love with you.” A happy smile tugs on your lips and Enzo’s delighted at how happy you are with his confession.
“You know… I never said yes to Cedric.” Enzo’s eyes widen and his mouth almost drops. “What?” A sweet laugh escapes you at the view of his shocked face. “I only ever said that he asked… I wanted to say yes, but I couldn’t because I’m in love with you.” Within a split second Enzo’s lips crash onto yours. You had just made this man the happiest in all of Hogwarts.
Word count: 1771
Picture link: https://pin.it/2LVDPbwNS
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flamingpudding · 5 months
Text
Cassiopea and Orion #2
Previous Part
A/N: I probably shouldn't be thinking up so many different story lines. But my mind won't let me focuse on something else in peace unless I write these snippets and parts out. So here have another part XD I still have a whole Danny and Bruce backstory conversation in my head that I will probably write out at some point too.
"Really B, another one?" A red helmet wearing guy huffed the moment he spotted her, the little black haired blue eyed girl, sitting on a railing by a huge computer set up Ellie was sure Uncle Tuck would have drooled over.
She blinked at the new arrival before her eyes went over to the man. The one she had told that Phantom lost his haunt. When she had spoken these words the air around the man had changed. Before Ellie even really knew what was happening, the man had turned away from her, talking to the still tense boy before whisking the both of them away to a cave. The place she was now, and one after another more and more of the weirdly dressed people showed up. Each of them appeared to feel the need to comment on something, Ellie heavily believed to be an inside joke.
She let her eyes wander over all the arrivals, her fingers nervously drumming on the metal of the railing she was sitting on. Watching them carefully, despite what Danny had told her, she would bold at the first sight of danger from them. They didn't appear to have any ecto-weapons but that could be false impression. Like the GIW. They had appeared so incompetent only to do a 180 decades later.
"So what is going on? Is B printing adoption papers already?" The red and black one appeared to joke and Ellie tilted her head. There definitely was a insider joke she was not aware of. It would be weird to ask them about it wouldn't it? It would also be rude and tactless. Danny and Aunt Jazz had tried to teach her to not always blurt out every question that pops up in her head. Key words, not always.
"Why would the furry need adoption papers?"
She blinked at how a couple of the people broke out laughing while the kid, who had been watching her like a hawk, was now full on shooting daggers at her. She was pretty sure the kid would have thrown a literal one at her, but something as keeping them from doing so. She heard a grunt, and her eyes went back to the man that had brought her here.
"Not necessary." The man muttered as he turned to face them, clicking a key on the keyboard of the computer, and Ellie blinked as an image of Phantom popped up on screen. The people laughing appeared to quiet down now. "She already has a father."
"Mom." Ellie automatically corrected, shrugging when they looked at her. Before everything had gone to shits and Danny's capture, he had become quiet the mother hen, especially with Dan's and her de-aging. The constant mothering and worry about their well-being had caused Dan to joke that Danny was acting like a mother and she had continued to run with that joke. Even after they had to put Dan into a frozen state under Frostbites care in Far Frozen. The two had silently agreed on that Danny was their mom. The past didn't matter and she would honour their silent sibling agreement.
She didn't elaborate any further and they seemed to get that as they turned back to the man by the computer, putting their attention on that. Though she did noticed that the other kids eyes lingered on her longer.
"This is Phantom. A ghost hero stationed at Amity Park. Code: Rho, one of Cassiopea's dying stars." The man paused, and Ellie swore he had looked at her under his cowl. "And this girl's, Elliza Danielle Phantom Nightingale's, mother. Code: Jupiter, the wandering star."
"How do you know my full name?! Plus, my only recently added ones! They are like only a month old! And what about these weird Codes?" She blurred out wide-eyed, staring at the man in bat costume.
"Even if sparse Phantom and I stayed in contact using these codes." And Ellie narrowed her eyes at him. "Doesn't answer my question."
"Actually, B we would also like to know more." One of the onlookers, that's what Ellie decided they were for now, piped up.
Bat guy grunted, staring them down but not answering. The onlooker in blue sighed but Ellie wasn't giving in. She crossed her arms, keeping her balance by floating slightly on the railing.
"Look, you big bad bee, if you can't tell me that, then how am I supposed to trust you to help me, let alone the rescue of Da- Phantom!"
The onlookers snickered as she held her little staring contest with the big bad bee. Jokes on that guy she had held staring contests with Frighty before and he doesn't even remember how to blink at times.
"Phantom and I correspond about various topics since our teen years." The bat guy finally admitted. "One of which was about... our children."
Ellie blinked several times. Until her eyes widened in realization and she pointed an accusing finger at bat guy. "You're the one that kept calling Danny about parent advice! Like how he got me to go to online school and prevented me from sneaking out or how he handled Dan's anger tantrums!"
"Wait... B went to someone other than Agent A for parent advice?" The red and black onlooker questioned and Ellie shrugged. Danny had always been sort of parenting her since he was 16 and Dan once they learned he was aging lower and then the de-aging happened. She did remember that Danny got his first phone call about parent advice when he was around 24.
Now that Ellie thought about it. That was also around the time he took her aside to tell her about the emergency code.
"Which one of us do you guys think was the cause?"
"Wing."
"Hood."
"Demon Brat."
Ellie blinked once more, her attention turning back to the onlookers as thet started to argue among themselves. She tilted her head, watching them. Looks like she accidentally got them off topic. Though now she really wanted to get the story out of Danny once they rescued him. For years she had caught snippets of Danny's phone calls, to think that the guy on the other end was a armored spandex wearing furry. She couldn't wait to tell Dan about that.
Well, once their mom was saved and her brother stabilized again.
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mypoisonedvine · 1 month
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𝐚 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | riley poole x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - having a girlfriend who can decode secret messages comes in handy when you're a treasure hunter; and having a clingy, needy treasure hunter boyfriend can be annoying when you're trying to decode something, but you find a way to compromise.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 4.4k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - SMUT (18+ only, and honestly who under 18 is watching this 20 year old movie about the declaration of independence? regardless, minors go away), established relationship, free use kink, touch of dumbification kink, FLIP PHONES (oh the noughties nostalgia), a totally unnecessary plot because everyone deserves a dose of colonial american history with their filth, riley and reader being nerdlove goals
(honestly can't believe I actually wrote this but now that I did I'm like hold up... is this my new obsession??)
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When Ben answered the door obviously not ready, and obviously surprised by Riley’s presence, it didn’t take a genius to put together that he’d forgotten about tonight— which Riley had sort of seen coming, with how many times this one thing had been put off or rescheduled at the last minute.  One of the downsides of being a treasure hunter?  Your coworkers tend to be somewhat… unreliable.
“Riley— what are you doing here?” Ben wondered.
“Warm greeting as always…” Riley sighed before answering the question: “I'm here to pick you up.”
Ben gave Riley an even more confused look.
“For dinner,” Riley added flatly.  “At Talerico’s.  To meet my—”
“To meet your new girlfriend, oh god,” Ben realized, “was that tonight?”
“No, it's tomorrow, I'm just picking you up twenty-four hours in advance,” Riley replied snarkily.
“I'm sorry, Riley,” Ben sighed, “I really— I do wanna meet her, Abigail did too— but I completely forgot— can we move this to another night?”
“Ben, we've moved this so many times that she's not even a new girlfriend anymore,” Riley sighed.
“I know, I know, but we can't tonight— Abigail just went out,” Ben justified.
“Where'd the missus go?”
“The library, she's trying to help me with something.”
“A clue?  It's another clue, isn't it,” Riley realized, not trying very hard to hide his excitement.
“I was going to call you tomorrow,” Ben explained.  “Come in, I’ll show you.”
After walking into Ben’s house and upstairs to the study, Riley wrinkled his brow when Ben handed him the coded message.  “Well, that’s just a whole bunch of letters,” Riley noticed.
“Astute as always, Riley,” Ben frowned.  “We found them in a journal that belonged to James Madison.”
“Why would James Madison write down a bunch of random letters in his journal?”
“No— each letter was underlined in a different entry.  And, at the back, we found this,” Ben continued, showing Riley a scanned parchment.
“GABE FADECCE,” Riley read aloud, changing his mind a few times about the pronunciation.  “It’s a name, right?”
“It must be,” Ben shrugged, “but we’ve been searching online for any evidence of a Fadecce family or a Gabriel that worked for or with Madison, and we haven’t found anyone.  That’s what Abigail went to the library for.”
“It sounds Italian, could he be Italian?” Riley wondered as Ben set down the images with a sigh.
“I don’t know— possibly, but we’re at a dead end at this point,” Ben replied.  “I’m sure we’d have a lot more to work with if we could decipher those letters from the journal entries, but we were up all night trying to figure it out—”
“Not what I’d be up all night doing with my girlfriend, but okay,” Riley interjected.
“And I haven’t gotten anywhere with it,” Ben concluded.
“Wait— you can't solve it?” Riley challenged with a smug grin.  “The Ben Gates can't solve a clue?”
“It's not that I can't, it's just that a code like this requires a lot of time,” Ben explained.  “I'm a historian, not a cryptographer.”
“We need a codebreaker,” Riley nodded thoughtfully, “somebody who can decode something this complex, and knows enough about the Founding Fathers to have some context for the message...”  He tapped on his chin like he was really thinking about it, before proudly smiling and tilting his head in faux-realization.  “Hey, how about a former intelligence agent who specialized in decryption, with a master's in world history and beautiful eyes that you can get lost in for hours?”
Ben raised an eyebrow at Riley.  “Yes, that would be great— give or take the eyes thing— but where are you gonna find one of those?”
“At Talerico’s,” Riley announced, “waiting at a table for four.”
“Your girlfriend is a cryptographer?” Ben realized with wide eyes.
“I told you you'd like her,” Riley beamed.
~
Riley was engrossed in his game, furiously clicking the mouse and clacking at the keyboard before mumbling a curse of defeat and pulling the headset off; sighing, he turned around and looked over the back of the couch at you.
He'd only started playing the game because you weren't giving him attention, so it made sense that as soon as he died, he'd go back to bugging you.  “Hey,” he greeted plainly, smiling yet clearly fighting the urge to pout.
You were laying on your stomach on the bed, half-dressed, looking at the pages Ben had given you and scribbling notes on a pad.  “Hey,” you returned flatly after a pause, adjusting your reading glasses before taking a few more notes.
“You look cute doing that,” he hummed.
“Doing what?”
“Thinking.”
You frowned a little in concentration but didn't look away from your papers.  “I like to think I'm always thinking…”
“No wonder you're so cute all the time then,” he cooed, leaning in closer and resting his chin in his hands.
He waited for a moment for you to keep the conversation going, but sighed when you simply continued working on the cipher without paying him any mind.
Getting off the couch with a sigh, he hopped onto the bed and laid beside you, making the mattress bounce a few times.  He kept looking at you for a little while, eventually reaching out and rubbing your back for a moment, before sliding himself even closer to you and planting a kiss on your shoulder.
Even with ninety-five percent of your attention on the puzzle in front of you, you could still tell what sort of mood Riley was getting himself into.  “Well, there is one thing that makes you stop thinking…” he recalled in a purr, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and giving you a teasing trail of kisses there.
You sighed a little and shrugged him away.  “Riley, I need to focus.”
“Baaabe,” he pouted.  “I can't help it, you're just so— how am I supposed to resist you like this?”
“I'm literally just laying here,” you noticed.
“You know what you do to me in those bifocals, sweetheart.”
You snorted and finally looked back at him, admiring the puppy dog eyes he was giving you— they almost always worked on you, and he knew it.  Sighing in relent, you looked back at the pages in front of you.  “I need to get this done, I promised your friend I would finish it in twenty-four hours,” you explained, “but you can go ahead.”
“Go ahead?” he repeated, confused.
“You can just use me, while I work,” you offered flippantly, hardly noticing the way his face turned red.
“R-right… I can just, um… use you.  That's— okay, sure,” he coughed nervously.
“Just be quick,” you insisted.
“Yeah, that's a challenge,” he scoffed, shuffling on the bed to straddle your legs and run his hands over your back.  “I, uh, like when you wear my shirts,” he informed you, as if feeling his erection press against your ass wasn’t enough of a clue.
“Just get on with it, please?” you groaned.
“Yeah, yeah— sorry…” he mumbled, moving his hands down to your panties which he traced slowly.  “These are cute,” he noticed aloud anyways, and you sighed a bit to yourself as you realized how futile it was to try to keep him from talking.  You were just going to have to tune him out to get this done.
His fingers shakily hooked into the elastic and pulled your panties down, a low hum echoing in his chest as he looked at you.  Grabbing handfuls of your ass and kneading them gently, he mumbled something to himself that you weren’t really paying attention to— until he got your attention suddenly with a quick slap.  “Hey!” you yelped, jumping slightly.
“Sorry, sorry,” he breathed through a grin, “couldn’t help myself.  I-I won’t distract you anymore, okay?  Just, you know, keep working…”
You did just that, of course, re-ordering the papers in your hand to look at the scanned back page again.
He went on mumbling to himself as he shoved his sweatpants down to his thighs to free his cock: “juuuust keep working,” he breathed.
He spit into his hand quickly and smeared it on himself, before nudging in between your legs and pressing himself to your opening.
Admittedly, you did react slightly when he pushed inside you— a wince from the stretch of it, especially without much preparation— but you managed to keep quiet and focus on your work again.  “God, so tight,” he groaned, digging his fingers into your hips slightly as he slid deeper.  “You're too good to me, baby…”
He pushed as deep as he could go, which was honestly a bit further than you expected at this angle, and leaned over you slightly as he started to move.
“You feel so good,” he praised through a heavy breath, not taking very long to savor the moment before picking up speed.  You knew if you reacted too strongly to what he was doing, he'd notice instantly and start trying to pull you away from your work; so, you did your best to focus on the problem, even if you found yourself gripping the pages a bit tighter.
Even if your attention was straight ahead, you almost wished you could see him now— but then again, you had a pretty good idea of what you would see if you looked back: his mouth parted slightly with sighs of pleasure, a subtle pink flush across his face, his eyes going a little glassy as they drifted over you.  In fact, you could sometimes feel his gaze on you, especially at those times that his fingers traced your back and hips.
Realizing something suddenly about the cipher in front of you, you put your pen between your teeth and pulled the cap off, biting down on it slightly to hold it in place so you could keep writing on the paper your other hand held.  “Fuck, you're so hot,” Riley groaned, starting to thrust a bit more urgently.  Resisting the urge to smile to yourself too much, you kept taking your notes and didn't especially pay attention to him behind you, even when his occasional whimpers started to grow louder.
For the most part, you were able to keep your focus.  It wasn’t that Riley was especially easy to ignore— certainly not with him going just a bit faster with every thrust— but you were finally on a roll with this puzzle; maybe you would’ve already solved it if it weren’t for your boyfriend, even if he was a welcome distraction.
He panted with each movement, holding on tighter to your hips.  “Fuck,” he whispered, leaning down after a moment to rest his forehead on your shoulder.  Normally, you would have to stop yourself from reaching back to run your fingers through his hair, but you were too engrossed in your work; and it was a good thing, too, because if you’d done that he almost certainly would’ve grabbed the papers and tossed them away, impatiently demanding for you finish that later and let him finish now.
Instead, it seemed like the pace and intensity of both your decryption and his movements grew together: your writing was hurried while his thrusts were faster and harder suddenly, until you could hear skin hitting skin, his groans muffled slightly as they came out through his teeth.
“Oh my god,” you gasped, taking your pen away from the paper abruptly and looking at your work.
“Yeah, you like that?” he encouraged in a rough voice.
“Oh my god, I solved it,” you announced, hardly noticing how he'd misunderstood your exclamation.
That seemed to break him out of his focus for a moment, and he stopped moving as he leaned down over you, resting his chin on your shoulder to read the page you were holding.  “At the place of eighty-five pleas, remove the Crucifiction keys,” he read aloud from the paper— once he managed to navigate your disorganized notes.
“It's a polyalphabetic substitution cipher,” you explained excitedly.  “Once I realized the key word was his wife’s name it was relatively simple— aside from having to reverse engineer some Vignere tables—”
“But what does it mean?” he wondered.  “What even is a Crucifiction key?  Please don’t tell me Ben’s gonna rob some nuns.”
“This was Madison’s journal,” you recalled, “and he co-wrote the Federalist papers with Alexander Hamilton and John Jay— eighty-five pleas— but Hamilton wrote the majority in his home.  I think we need to go to his estate, and see if they still have any of the instruments he owned.”
“Instruments?” 
“The Crucifiction keys, that threw me off too,” you admitted, “but Hamilton was a pretty accomplished pianist— but he would’ve played the colonial precursor to the piano, the fortepiano, which was created by an Italian inventor named Cristofori.  Cristo as in Christ, obviously, and fori meaning ‘holes’.  The Crucifiction!  The keys are piano keys!”
“But who’s Gabe Fadecce?” he pressed.
“It’s not a name,” you answered, “it’s a song.  G, A, B, E, F…” you hummed each note as best you could recall.  “If we start at the first key in the bass and take out the first G, A, and so on up the scales, I’m guessing there will be another clue beneath them, or on the back or something.”
“You're amazing,” he smiled, kissing you on the cheek proudly.
“I'll call Ben,” you decided, reaching to pick up your phone from nearby on the bed and flip it open; you hadn't even opened your contacts yet before Riley wrapped his hand around yours and— gently— pulled it away and closed it.
“I'll call Ben,” he offered, “later.”
You turned to look at him, and he smiled at you, though there was something softer and darker about his gaze as it fell slowly to your lips.
“You and I have unfinished business first,” he continued softly before kissing you with more patience than you expected from him after all that…
When he pulled away, you reached up to take off your glasses, but he clicked his tongue as he stopped your hand from moving any further.
“No no no, leave those on,” he encouraged.  You grinned before he kissed you again, his weight sinking into your back as he slipped an arm around your shoulders.  You moaned softly into the kiss when he started moving again; it was a relaxed pace, but with him draped over you like this, he seemed to go so much deeper.
When he pulled away, you found yourself leaning towards him for more— but he just smirked at you and propped himself upright again, starting to move faster behind you.
“Look back at me,” he requested in a softer voice, and when you turned to look over your shoulder at him behind you, you found him biting his lip at the sight.  “Oh god,” he choked on a groan, meeting your gaze before shutting his eyes and tilting his head back.  “Fuck, is it weird that you ignoring me kinda turned me on?”
You laughed a little, and shook your head.  “No, that's fine… I can go back to it, if you want—”
“No, please— I still like you better like this,” he insisted.  “I like how responsive you are.”
He ran his hand up your back and you shivered, rocking your hips up slightly as he ran his fingers over your hair before taking a hold of your shoulder.
“Yeah,” he breathed, something beautifully dark to his voice, “like that.”
He began to fuck you hard— not fast, but intense and deep and just the right amount of impatient— and you didn't even try to hold back the loud whine of pleasure that jumped from your chest.  “Fuck,” you gasped, “oh my god, yes…”
“Uh huh?” he encouraged, watching with half-lidded eyes at the way you moved under him, your body naturally starting to rock back towards his.  “Tell me how that feels.”
“Good,” you panted.
“But not good enough to distract you from your work, huh?” he challenged.
“Well, to be fair, nothing feels better than cracking a code,” you giggled.
“Oh, baby,” he groaned, putting his hands on either side of you on the bed so he could lean down and kiss your neck, only to bite it a second later— not too hard, but a little harder than just playful.  You felt him smile when you yelped softly.  “You’re trying to piss me off, right?”
“Maybe,” you shrugged a little bit.
He sat back up and pulled out of you unexpectedly, but thankfully explained himself before you would’ve likely let out a pathetic whine that he would’ve held against you.  “Turn over,” he instructed, “and take that shirt off.”
You flipped onto your back with a smile; “I thought you liked how I look in your shirts,” you reminded him as he helped you pull it over your head and toss it aside.
“Yeah, but I like how you look without them even more,” he explained, running his hands along your sides before surprising you as he suddenly bent down to swirl his tongue around a hardening nipple.
“Fuck,” you gasped, grabbing onto his hair as he moved to the other, first with his eyes shut and then opening them to look up at you as your back arched.
“You’re so pretty,” he praised as his lips traveled to your neck; he yanked you closer by your hips, making you laugh slightly with surprise as you slid across the bed, though it turned into a moan when he thrust into you again in one go.
This time, he didn’t hold back at all: rough, needy, hungry.  You moaned louder than you planned to, grabbing onto his shoulders through his t-shirt.
“Sorry,” he panted out through a thin laugh, “but I can’t slow down now— not after you drove me crazy like that.  God, baby, you’re so fucking wet—”
You choked on the back of your own throat; you couldn’t help it, you just loved the way he said that.
“— this is what you wanted, isn’t it?”
“Uh huh,” you mumbled, 
“You like when I use you, huh?” he taunted, and you bit your lip before nodding.  “That’s pretty kinky, you know.  Is that all you wanna be?  A fucktoy?”
“Oh god,” you groaned, accidentally digging your nails into his shoulder, though he didn’t seem to mind.
“Want me to just fuck you whenever I feel like it, whatever you’re doing?” he continued.
“Yes,” you admitted in a hiss, head dropping back onto the bed.
“You're really trying to spoil me,” he cooed, leaning down to kiss your neck in between words.  “Be careful what you wish for, sweetheart— I might end up fucking you five times a day.  At least.”
You moaned lowly, feeling your muscles seize up on him briefly, making him laugh in the most condescending-yet-sexy way.
“Oh, fuck— you want that!” he realized, and his voice dropped to a low growl again as he thrusted even faster, teeth teasing your pulse.  “You can never get enough, can you?”
Not that you ever really thought your response to that was going to be especially coherent… but the way you cried out totally gave yourself away; how had he made you so desperate so fast?!
“Oh, poor baby,” he offered pityingly, only to fuck you even faster until you whined pathetically.  “You don’t wanna think, huh?  Just wanna be my hole.”
“Y-yeah,” you gasped, “fuck…”
“You’re too fucking perfect, you know that?” he praised.  “The only thing sexier than fucking you while you use that gorgeous brain of yours, is fucking you until you can’t.”
Your moan was sort of trapped in the back of your throat as you tried to swallow it down; you wished you had the wherewithal to hold it back better, but you weren’t really used to him talking like this.  Normally he would just go on tangents of praise and begging (as needed), and even though it wasn’t your first glimpse of his more dominant side, this all felt a bit different.  Even the way he was looking at you seemed different— a sort of pride in his eyes, pride in his own ability to turn you into a wet and whimpering mess.
“So fucking good,” he cooed, “you’re so good, baby— my good, dumb little fucktoy.”
“G-god,” you choked, holding on tighter to the sheets under you, trying to hold yourself together.
“You’d better come fast, ‘cause I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” he warned with a sigh— which would be a much more credible threat if he’d ever left you hanging.  But no, those times Riley’s stamina hadn’t taken you all the way, he was more than happy to put his mouth on you and let it do the rest of the work.
This time, though, all he needed was a thumb drawing rough circles on your clit to help you along.  You hadn’t even noticed how sensitive it had become, not until your back arched and a needy whine jumped from your chest.  “Oh fuck, Riley, I’m close,” you yelped.
“Yeah?” he whined— actually, he repeated it a few times as he watched you get closer to your peak, but it was all falling on deaf ears as your moans got louder and louder.
“Yes!” you cried out, shaking under him; even with his weight pressing you down into the bed, it began to feel like you were floating somehow.  It was one of those orgasms that left you a little numb, with little jolts of raw pleasure that were almost too much— but your only defense was holding tighter onto him, inside and out.
“O-oh god,” he choked weakly, the movement of his thumb slowing but his hips going faster than ever.  “Fuck, fuck!”
He stopped all at once, burying himself in one last stroke as deep as he could reach, moaning lowly against the crook of your neck as he went mostly limp atop you.
After catching your breath for a few moments, you hummed softly in contentment and he carefully lifted himself up just to fall back down beside you on the bed.  He looked at you with heavy eyes but a huge smile; “You wear me out, you know that?” he breathed, reaching up to move some hair stuck to your face.
“You distract me from my work, you know that?” you countered.
“Hey, you got it done,” he defended.  “We’ll let Ben know as soon as I… you know, remember how to exist.  And use cell phones.”
“And maybe after a shower…” you suggested.  As soon as you saw the sparkle in Riley’s eye you added: “Separately.  I’ll pass out before we can make it to dinner tonight if we just end up fucking again.”
“I mean, they’ve been putting off dinner for months— why can’t we blow them off for once?” he suggested with a smirk, moving closer to you on the bed.
“I thought I’d worn you out,” you remembered with a breathless laugh, and he wrapped an arm around you to pull you into him.
“You did,” he sighed against your neck, “I’m just… easily re-inspired.”
~
It was a good thing this place was mostly empty, since this was technically somewhat sensitive information, but you figured anyone who overheard wouldn’t know enough about the conversation to glean anything too significant.  You found yourself rubbing your hands together under the table anxious as you watched Ben across from you, holding your work, and waited for his response.
“This is incredible,” Ben smiled as he read your decryption, making both you and Riley smile back with pride.  “A polyalphabetic substitution cipher, I should’ve known.”
“Yeah, any idiot would’ve known that,” Riley joked flatly.
“Where’d you find this girl?” Ben asked him, and you glanced at your boyfriend to find a little flush on his cheeks.
“You know, the technical answer is that we met at a panel lecture proposing that certain ‘random’—” he accentuated the word with a sarcastic tone and air-quotes— “radio frequencies detected by military technology might be messages from extraterrestrials—”
Ben rolled his eyes even at the passing mention of one of Riley’s more absurd conspiracy theories.
“But,” Riley continued, “I have a theory that she was actually created in a lab, specifically for me, by a team of scientists with the inexplicable goal of making me happy.”
“Oh, come on,” you giggled nervously, shoving Riley on the shoulder but failing to stop him from giving you a kiss on your heated cheek.
“That line working on you really is a testament to the fact that you’re made for each other,” Ben offered, and you decided to ignore the backhanded element of the compliment because of your sense that there was something very genuine about it.
“Look who’s here,” Riley pointed towards the front door of the restaurant, over Ben’s shoulder, causing the latter to turn in his seat and look back.  “Abigail, over here!”
She waved when she saw you, quickly approaching the table and taking her seat as she apologized for being tardy; “This is Dr. Abigail Chase,” Ben introduced her with a proud smile.
“Oh, don’t be so formal,” she gently scolded him (maybe everything she said sounded that nice with her accent, though), but she beamed as she grabbed your extended hand to shake it.  “It’s so nice to meet you, finally— I’ve heard so much from Riley.  He’s been bragging about you so much these past few months, I feel like I already know you!”
“Apparently he met her attending some panel about secret alien messages from space,” Ben told her with a smile and a yeah, I know, it’s crazy look in his eyes.
“Attending?” Riley repeated with a scoff.  “We were both speakers!”
Abigail was a little better at hiding any judgmental instinct; “How perfect,” she announced sweetly.
“She’s a real whiz with decryption though— look at this,” Ben instructed, handing the (condensed) page of your notes over to Abigail, who took it and tilted her head as she read to herself.  
“Wow,” she sighed, “you made quick work of it: Hamilton’s fortepiano?  That must be in a museum somewhere.”
“It’s still in his home in New York,” you replied quickly, “we already looked into it.”
“Did you help her at all with the solve?” Ben asked Riley suddenly, who turned to you with a slightly mischievous look in his eyes.  
“Uh,” he stalled before clearing his throat nervously, but never looking away from you— “y-yeah, I helped… in my own way.”
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sugar-grigri · 10 months
Text
Fujimoto answers you directly in this chapter (yes)
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How about reading CSM differently? Or at least cut it up differently? Because the more the chapters progress, the more a certain pattern seems to repeat itself: Part 1 sounds as if Fujimoto is unveiling CSM in its purest form, then Part 2 sounds as if CSM is responding to its own reception by its fans. 
I've already said many times that Fujimoto likes contrast in form and in writing, and this chapter, though brain-numbing, simply follows Fujimoto's own rules, only in an even more accentuated way. 
To prove my point, I recommend you reread chapter 133 "Protest", which for me speaks directly to the divisive image represented by Fujimoto and his work Chainsaw Man. 
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I've already done an exhaustive analysis of it, but let's get one thing out of the way: Fujimoto answers his fans in part 2. 
Whether it's by posing a heroine who seems incompatible with Denji, hating the figure of CSM which is nonetheless the work in which she's included, whether it's through the themes addressed by part 2, the question of dual identity, creating antagonists like Fake!CSM, setting up a church (us) around CSM 
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We're in a work that speaks for itself, as chapter 137 confirms, and for this very rule, we refer to the previous chapters (an eternal restart).
Chapter 136, entitled "Normal Life", refers to a more-than-CENTRAL theme in Chainsaw Man, the nerve that irrigated the whole of Part 1 Denji's disillusionment, a bargaining chip for the former antagonist, Fujimoto takes his fans by the hand and puts them back into the game they know. 
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We see what we'd all expected to see, a Denji who doesn't know how to fit into normal life, who's not cut out for 
In my previous analysis, I explained how not only is Denji incapable of having a normal life, not only because of himself but also because of Yoshida, who offers him this life, and above all because of Fujimoto, who abruptly breaks the rhythm of his own chapter with this aggression, frustrating (I'm sure on purpose) his own fans. 
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What Fujimoto does is make you think you were reading in the right direction, showing you a Denji depressed by his normal life, and like a child amused by not wanting to be predictable, he breaks what would otherwise have been a logical thing to see. I mean… Who could have foreseen such a title?
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Chapter 137 simply follows the same logic: Fujimoto has foreseen your frustrated reactions and knows full well that you've become attached to Denji, hoping that he'll break out of the cycle of manipulation. 
He plays you in this chapter by setting up a confident, emotionally well-adjusted Denji who pushes this stranger away, reminding her of the rules of respect and consent. 
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It's not just Denji's thoughts, the way he would have liked to act, it's also the way YOU would have liked him to act. 
Now I can explain why these chapters, which break with the previous ones in their absurdity, are surely the most important in CSM. 
Many had pointed to the famous cinema reference in chapter 136, others had even noted that chapter 136 constituted chapter 39 of part 2, responding to Makima's date with Denji in part 1 in the same chapter. 
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But chapter 39 of part 1 wasn't just interesting for the cinema scene, it was the one that set the rules for understanding CSM. 
In fact, it was this chapter to which chapter 93 responded, with Denji's ideology (in favor of bad movies) confronting Makima (against bad movies).
In the same way, the second chapter 39 (the 136th) also seeks to lay down rules
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Chapters 136 and 137 have never been more responsive to CSM fans, stubbornly denying them what they want. 
What Fujimoto does is to return to cinema in its purest form in the second half, using the codes of the middle-aged male slasher. 
That's why the two high-school students go to Fujimoto's karaoke bar, because you're going to find yourself in its purest essence: having fun with the utmost absurdity. 
It's no longer a question of representing cinema, as in the two chapters 39, but of making cinema.
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But why a slasher? Think of the mythical slashers that traumatized a generation… Yes… The Texas Chainsaw Massacre is a work that has achieved cult status for having opened the door to a new trend in American horror cinema: the slasher movie. Nothing represents a slasher movie more than a chainsaw-headed hero?
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Inspired by the Italian "giallos", slasher movies feature a masked killer, a gang of youngsters and the killings of the serial killer in question. Fujimoto takes up this theme in his own way: Denji doesn't kill with his iconic chainsaw, he's not masked, and it's the young couple who hold the beats and the shady men who get killed.
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If we go back to the depression we all expected to see, it's actually more complicated to understand: Denji's depression at being trapped in a type of writing that's too serious for him. 
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Here Denji follows the rules of the game, enjoying himself by killing all those old people, saying ironically: "not bad this normal life". 
Because this scene is perfectly normal in Fujimoto's karaoke.  
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In itself, Yoshida was right. Indeed, no, Denji is not the hero of the normal film that was unfolding before them. Because they're not in normal life, it's projected onto the screen. CSM's reality is an absurd slasher. It is in this slasher, in this false normal life, that the protagonist, Denji, is.
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Denji is the protagonist of another film. And maybe in this one, the world needs Chaisaw Man.
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webslingingslasher · 4 months
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Not to be annoying but I rlly hope u write some kind of blurb for the jealous frat!Peter when someone flirts w reader after they are officially boyfriend girlfriend bc u wanna assess what kind of relationship they'll have after all the emotional trauma and angstttttt (idk if u got my first ask though)
*cleaning out my inbox*
kisses scattered across your face woke you up, hair tickled your nose, and you showed you were awake by lightly pushing on peter’s shoulder. it's just too early.
'can't snooze me, trouble. you're the one that told me to wake you up.' another round of kisses, your wake up call isn't that terrible. 'c'mon, up and at 'em. you've got a midterm to study for, leslie's waiting for you.'
his reasoning doesn't make you move any quicker, it was on leslie for choosing saturday morning as peak study time. you weren't even able to hang at the party last night, instead you hunkered down in peter's room and lightly woke when he crawled into bed around one to tug you into his side.
'it's so early.' peter pouts against your cheek, 'you'll survive. you've been putting in overtime this week. i swear that you've hung out with leslie everyday.' it's true, and like peter said before your first study session 'you'll feel your brain grow, super proud of you.' there's no question you'll ace the midterm.
'promise me you'll let me sleep in tomorrow?' a flurry of kisses, you savor them, you know it's the last attack of the day. 'you got it.'
---
peter thought you could use a little pick me up, so, he gladly walked into the library doors with your favorite fast food. it might've been slightly selfish, because he knows he just won himself some brownie points.
it took him a minute, but he found you. back in the study section, lightly kicking your feet under the table. you were nodding your head while chewing on the end of your pen, peter's heart picked up; he couldn't wait to see the look on your face.
you laugh, he smiles. peter moves around a bookcase and comes to a sudden stop. sitting right next to you, was a guy. he had your total attention, no other sign of people around you, peter couldn't even try to pretend it had turned into a last minute group session.
peter finds it hard to swallow, it's not that you're not allowed to hang out with guys, it's the fact that you lied about it. was there ever a leslie, or was it code for this guy the whole time?
the answer will be in your reaction, and he's about to catch you. you don't see him coming, your eyes flash to the bag on the table then to the hand setting it down. you almost burst at the seams, a surprise visit and your favorite food.
'peter!' you wince at your tone, a nasty look from the table next to you gets a silent apology. 'what are you doing here?' you're already digging through the bag, you miss the inspection he's doing on your study partner. you also miss the way he's avoiding peter's eyes.
'just wanted to say hi,' you chew on a fry and hold your mouth closed while you pucker, a chaste kiss. 'hi.' you swallow and tap on the arm next to you, peter follows the motion closely. 'have you met peter yet?'
'uh, no.' he scoots closer to the table, you shrug and look up at peter. he has his focus on leslie, it seems more intimidating than friendly. when your study buddy looks to you for help, peter loses it.
'trouble? wanna come talk to me for a minute?' you frown, your fries are at the perfect temperature. 'but, you-' the look in peter's eyes tells you he isn't playing, a sense of urgency has you scooting your chair back.
the second you're ducked behind a shelf, it spits out. 'who the fuck is that?' peter's tone has you drawing your head back, it's sudden and aggressive. 'who, leslie?' he laughs, 'nice try, who is he?'
it feels accusatory, you take a slight step back. 'that's leslie, peter.' he snorts, 'and you left out the fact he's a guy?' the reason for his sudden change makes you feel dirty, you don't like how he's directing his words.
'i didn't feel like it had to be spesified.' peter nods sarcastically, 'so i tell you i'm hanging out with... jordan, and i've been around them for hours a day, for the entire week then you find out it's a chick and you wouldn't mind? not even a little bit?'
'it depends on what you're doing with her.' a dry laugh, 'you knew exactly what the fuck you were doing with that name shit. don't stand here and tell me i'm the idiot.'
he's making you feel sad, you don't understand how peter could think of you like that. 'i don't understand why you're so upset.' peter tugs at his snapback, scratching at his curls, he replaces it.
'because you're my fucking girlfriend.'
your arms cross, 'so i can no longer hang out with any other guy?' maybe you were being a little difficult, but he's the one that implied you were cheating, or at the very least capable of it.
'jesus christ, that's what you jump to? no, honey-' the name sounded sour, '-it's the fact that you knew i'd think he was a girl and you didn't try to change that.'
'i don't see why it matters.' peter feels like he's talking in circles and he really wants to break from the conversation because he can feel his frustration building, he's about to start saying things he'll regret.
'it doesn't!' you pull on his arm with wide eyes, your head spins to look around. peter brings himself to a whisper shout, 'it doesn't fucking matter, but it starts to matter when you lie to me.'
'don't make it seem like i'm cheating on you.' you tried to ease him down, like the two had nothing in common. it was the wrong choice of words, a fire blazed in peter's eyes. you stepped back when peter pointed a finger at you, for once, he's making you feel really small.
'you're the one who brought up cheating. go back to your fucking friend, i'm done.'
you try to grab onto his wrist, but peter shakes you off like you're nothing. 'peter,' he has no interest in what you have to say, you can't follow him, he's too quick. 'peter!'
when he's out of sight you look down at the ground and sigh. peter was right, you knew what you were doing by alluding to the fact leslie was a girl. and peter doesn't care when you hang out with other guys, but because you left that part out, you've been lying by omission and it makes everything seem worse than it is.
you just don't know what he meant by 'i'm done,' and you really hope it just pertains to the conversation. either way, you shuffle back to your table with a tail between your legs and hope to god peter would let you apologize.
---
gentle knocks at the frat door, you were scared that if you gave peter a heads up, he'd bolt.
'uh oh, you're in trouble.' ethan has a smug look, it tells you that he's been preparing for you to show up. 'how much?' you need to know your chances before you can think of your plea bargain.
ethan wavers, 'he was... upset.' you hold your face between your hands as you slide in, mumbling out a 'fuck,' before building confidence to move up the stairs.
you lightly tap on your boyfriend's door, when there's no response you slowly twist the door knob. peter's lying on his bed, ankles crossed while a book covers his face.
'peter?' the door clicks shut. you timidly step forward, 'petey?' nothing from him, just a slight adjustment and he's back to reading. 'did we break up?'
the book drops, you're looking right at him. 'no, we didn't break up.' you can breathe a little bit better even if he went back to glaring at words, the main anxiety was flushed. 'okay, good.' you reach the end of his bed, rubbing at his shin you try to soften him up.
'i love you.' peter has a very unimpressed glance when you capture his total attention by taking a seat, pushing into his thighs. 'i don't know why i didn't tell you leslie was a guy, i mean, i honestly forgot but when you started saying she... i didn't correct you.' your fingers twiddle with the band of his watch, 'and i don't know why, i guess i wasn't thinking about it like that. but yeah, i'd feel a bit cheated if you did the same to me.'
'you keep saying cheat.'
cheating is almost number one in things you should never do to your partner, but for some reason, it really hits something in peter. just saying the word, out of context, has him pulling from your touch.
'peter, c'mon, stop it. you know what i mean. i'd never, ever cheat on you. i love you too much. i was on the spot and i thought you were implying i was cheating, and i was trying to say i wasn't cheating but then i think you took that as a guilty conscious coming forward and admitting i was cheat-'
'please stop saying cheating. please.'
you hold your mouth shut, a sheepish look crosses over your face. 'sorry.' it comes out as a mumble, it's an uncomfortable silence. you don't really know what to say, or do. you smash repetitive clicks on the side button of peter's watch, when you take a peek, he's watching your hands.
you're really trying, but you need to wash away any idea of it from his head. 'it's just that i never want you to think i'm cheating-' you're shocked into silence when peter rips his arm from you.
'fucking quit it with the cheating, trouble.' you open and close your mouth like a guppy, nothing sounds right. 'i know you don't like it, but i just need you to know that me hiding that leslie was a guy didn't mean i was trying to-'
'say cheat one more time, i fucking dare you.'
you stay silent. 'i don't know how to fix it, peter. i'm sorry i lied, and i’m sorry i keep saying the 'c' word.' you jump at peter's stage claps, you never knew how sarcastic a noise could sound.
'there we go! that was hard, huh?' it leaves a bad taste in your mouth, you frown at him. 'you don't need to be so condescending.' peter snorts, 'and you don't need to be lying about girls who are guys that wanna fuck you.'
you freeze on the spot, pushing the words out like they'll make you puke if you think too hard about them. 'leslie doesn't want to fuck me.' peter nudges your back with his knee, 'you're cute.'
you shake your head, 'i mean it. he knows you're my boyfriend, i talk about you all the time.'
'that's so cute, you're so cute.' you push his arm, 'i mean it, peter! i promise he wants nothing to do with me, he even told me he likes someone else.'
peter plays along for the sake of it, 'oh, yeah? he does? let me guess... it's someone you know.' you light up, 'yes! he wouldn't tell me if we were friends, but he said i know her!'
'right, right. and she's super pretty, right? maybe a little outgoing?' it's impressing how well peter knows this. 'yes-' peter keeps going, 'maybe intimidating because she'd never notice him? and how she might not be into a guy like him?'
peter's ticked every single box; your eyebrows furrow, a supercut of every moment you've had with your study partner runs through your mind. you see where you've been dumb on hints, and how you very much are... the girl you know.
'and that might be because she...' you fill in the blanks with shame, 'has a boyfriend.' it's muttered in a deep tone, pitch mocking peter's next words.
a brew of frustration, not on peter, but on men in general. you can't even study without being hunted? and why the fuck does peter know the game so well?
'this is bullshit! what the fuck is your problem?' you stand and glare down at peter, demanding him to answer on behalf of the world's male population. peter holds a hand on his chest, 'what the fuck is my problem? i don't know, what did i do?'
'you!' you point at him, again, a placeholder for all feminine rage. 'you fucking- you're a... you're a man and you suck and why am i constantly fucking sexualized? all i wanted-' you suck in for air, you don't know why you feel a lump in your throat, is this something really worth crying over? yes.
'all i wanted was a friend.' no tears, you're full of anger again. who does that to a person? 'and the whole time i'm being baited? i just wanted to pass my fucking class, peter! i wanted to do it without your help and the second i don't have a fucking man tied to my hip, i'm being plotted against?'
'trouble,' peter's heart hurts and you can hear it.
'no! it's so unfair, and it's unfair that you'll never understand it. it's unfair that i have to live my entire life afraid of what's behind my shoulder. it's unfair that i can't be left alone. even when i make it clear i already have the person i want. it's just-'
you sink next to peter, he sits up to hug you. 'unfair. it's really, really unfair and i'm sorry i can't relate or understand. i'm sorry you thought you had a friend, i'm sorry you feel like you can't relax, and i'm sorry i rubbed it in your face.'
he did rub it in your face.
'you have plenty of guy friends with good intentions that would do anything to keep you out of harm's way. that includes calling out other guys that may not have them, but i could've been nicer. i'm sorry i'm just a man sometimes. i'll work on it, i promise.'
you melt into his touch, peter is very much just a man sometimes. but he's your man and always good at calling himself out when he needs it. 'is that why you thought i cheated on you?'
'the next time you say cheat, you owe me twenty bucks.' you ignore the quip, 'is it?'
peter scoffs as he rubs your back. 'i didn't think you were cheating, trouble. i was upset that my girlfriend was lying about who she was hanging out with.' a slew of kisses to your hairline follow.
'and maybe a little jealous.' you laugh, there's nothing for him to be jealous over, but he's super serious and pulls away to cup your face so you're looking right at him. 
'because you're my baby, and i need it to stay that way.'
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shanastoryteller · 4 months
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Happy Holidays! ❄️❄️ more from What They Expect please! I love that AU!
continuation of 1 2 3
It’s been well over a year since she’s seen Mustang. Al’s all aflutter about it, and how puberty has her looking like something other than a twelve year old boy, but she’s really not worried. Mustang is so involved with his own shit that he doesn’t have the time to care about hers. It would be a damning quality if it wasn’t exactly what she needed from him.
She is, sort of, a little bit worried about Riza. Not worried as in she actually thinks something is going to happen, but just that if anyone out of Mustang’s little idiot brigade would figure her out, it would be her.
Maes is a distinct possibility, but also not really. The thing that saves her, always, is that no one’s really looking. She’s loud and flashy and angry and no one thinks she’s too short to be a guy because of how sensitive she is about it and no one notices she’s pretty because they’re too busy dealing with her being mad and scowling and, with these guys, she’s got an extra ace up her sleeve.
They think they already know all her secrets.
They know about human transmutation and binding her brother’s soul to a suit of armor and every questionable and terrible thing she’s done since in her pursuit to fix it.
Why the hell would she be lying about her gender? It’s not even a thought in their heads, and if it ever becomes one, they’ll dismiss it before he even has a chance to.
Eden binds her chest tight extra tight, so her chest is nearly flat, and puts on her baggy tank top and giant red coat that hides the way her hips curve and the giant stompy boots that she really does love, sets her face in a familiar scowl, and goes off to war.
If war was child’s play, that is.
“Where have you been?” Mustang demands, towering over her and nostrils flaring.
Well. Sort of towering over her. She must have had a growth spurt, because he’s really only got a couple inches on her, which is sort of hilarious. She hadn’t noticed that he was short before. “Uh, lots of places. Haven’t you been reading my reports?”
She does not laugh in his face at the way his eyebrow ticks. She spends so much time meticulously writing everything down in dedicated code in her travelogues, she really doesn’t have the energy to spare when she gets to her reports for Mustang. Besides, he doesn’t really care what she’s doing, only that it’s big and flashy enough to distract from whatever he’s doing.
Is she supposed to know that? She can’t remember. But it’s so obvious that it doesn’t feel like something that can be a secret.
Then again, the rest of the brass haven’t caught on, so.
“What were you thinking in Liore?” he snaps.
Eden blinks. “Liore? That was forever ago. Did something happen? Rose didn’t mention anything in her last letter.”
“Yes, Edward, it was forever ago, but since you declined to answer my summons to come here and explain yourself, we’re discussing it now,” he says.
God, she’d forgotten how bitchy he gets. “Okay, well that priest guy was pretty strange-“
“I don’t care about the priest!”
She stares. She had to kill the guy twice and he doesn’t care? Honestly, she thinks it’s sort of memorable.
“What were you thinking messing with that river?”
Ed tilts her head to the side. “You’re upset about the river?”
He glares. “Of course I’m upset about the river!”
She bites the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Al’s really worried over nothing.
Mustang is never paying attention to the right things.
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fastcardotmp3 · 1 year
Text
Steve is the first person Robin ever comes out to.
And it's good, it goes better than she ever could have hoped, it goes miraculously well considering just how reckless she had been about it in hindsight, how nearly accidental and vaguely self-destructive a choice it had been to wield Tammy Thompson's name like that in front of a boy she'd learned to trust within the past six hours.
The thing is, it's good, but she realizes later on that she never actually says the word. The big one, the identifying one, the one that gets thrown around as a slur as often as queer or dyke do towards any girl who dares not present in a specifically feminine way.
It's a bad word, a scary word, a word that drips off tongues like acid and drips drips drips a corrosive hole in Robin's chest every single time because if it's being said in her vicinity that means-- just at any moment-- anyone could figure out--
Robin doesn't care for the act of coming out either in theory or in practice. She believes that anyone she trusts enough to know gets to learn from context clues and anyone she doesn't trust will just never get to know her fully and that's good enough for her.
She doesn't sit her parents down and say, "Mom. Dad. I'm a--"
She doesn't sit her little apocalypse posse down and say, "Just thought you guys should know I'm a--"
She didn't tell Steve.
She doesn't say the word.
Because as much as she's able to accept who she is, it's so hard to claim a word that has been used like a weapon her whole life. Because as much as even her parents and her friends love her for who she is, there is something about saying it like that that makes her wonder if it could sully the support.
As if they'd realize oh, you meant like that...? and change their minds.
It's not until IUPUI, a little house in Indy with Steve, and a little record shop next door to the deli where Eddie got a job slicing meat that she starts seeing that word, feeling it anew.
There are zines at this shop, the ones behind the counter that she's offered after a few visits and a few conversations that she later recognizes as coded and questioning in nature.
There are stories and art and poetry and that word is all over them.
And the thing is? The thing that has Steve finding her crying in their living room one afternoon as she reads through the stack like it holds the answers to the universe?
Is that it is written and spoken and displayed like the most beautiful word in the world.
It's a compliment and a blessing and a brag. It's a little bit of magic and a great deal of history.
It's her, in the end. It's her and it belongs in her mouth, deserves to be spoken, because too many people are out there misusing it like a disgusting thing when it is divine, fucking love incarnate.
Robin tucks into Steve's embrace, his instinct to hold her even as he tries to understand what has her sobbing in the middle of the day, whether or not he needs to fight anyone about it.
He holds her and she holds him back and it only feels right that it happen like this when she takes his face in her hands, shaky but oh, so certain.
Steve was the first person she ever came out to.
If she's going to let the scary word become her favorite the way it is for the people writing it out so proudly, this is probably the place to start.
"Steve Harrington," she beams at the furrow in his brow, those big concerned eyes that she knows will be confused about this, but she knows will only hold her tighter once she explains. "Steve. Stevie. Guess what?"
"What's up?" he laughs, gathering the joy in her tears like she knew he would, and Robin feels something click in the moment before she says it to him.
Out loud and real.
Very nearly holy.
"I'm a fucking lesbian."
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cheegu3 · 2 months
Text
Door Lock
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pairing; f.m reader x jungkook (ft. ryujin from itzy) genre; yandere, thriller, guessing game summary; ever since you had an encounter with a creepy man at your job, you started waking up feeling like things were off, after some time you start suspecting that you're not alone at night in your apartment, but the man from your job isn't the only one with questionable motives, can you guess who your stalker is? warnings; yandere themes, stalking, obsessive / unhealthy love, drugging, swearing, drinking, paranoia
wc; 6k note; based on the movie Door Lock (although not all events are exactly the same) - I wanted to try writing smth a little different than usual
'' Do you want me to walk you home? ''
'' Oh, come on! '' you sighed and rolled your eyes. '' I'm not a kid, my apartment's just around the corner. ''
Your friend, Ryujin, didn't look very happy with your answer. Her lips pursed, causing a dissatisfied look to form on her face. She crossed her arms and shook her head.
'' You're always so stubborn. ''
Ryujin only received a shrug in response as you had already started turning away from her, making up your mind a long time ago. She'd always say these things after the two of you had a late night out drinking.
And she'd always get turned down by her friend who thought she worried too much. Every time, you would arrive safely at your apartment, without anyone even following you or giving you a glance.
'' It went fine last week, Ryujin. Nothing will happen to me, it never does. ''
She scoffed dryly, '' I swear one day you're going to regret saying that, y/n. ''
'' Maybe, but not today! '' you cheerfully shouted to her when you had created some distance.
'' Text me when you get home at least! ''
You waved her off. The walk home was short because Ryujin always chose restaurants or bars near your apartment. It was around the corner and up the long stairs.
You always complained loudly about the stairs. Arriving home drenched in sweat and panting wasn't exactly ideal. But it was by far the least horrid thing about the route to your apartment.
The reason your friend was worried every time you walked home alone was mainly because the hill had no lights; it was pitch black, except for small splotches of light that came from the hill houses' outdoor lights.
It also had no CCTV so if anyone were to try something in the dark, no one would likely notice.
However, you had long accepted it. It was almost a given when the rent was so cheap, and you couldn't complain about the view. Since it was at the top of the hill, it faced downtown and often had beautiful sunsets.
On this night there wasn't a sunset in sight because it had long passed. The city was asleep, with only cicadas echoing up the hill.
About halfway up, you stopped to squint. Was that someone standing at the top? No - you must've imagined it.
You kept walking but occasionally glanced at the top from time to time. What you thought you saw had disappeared and when you finally reached the spot it was in, you were fully convinced your mind had played tricks on you.
The security guard greeted you when he saw you entering the building. You gave him a curt nod and hurried on, desperate to sleep in the comfort of your bed.
At your door, something felt off. Your eyebrows knit together as you crouched to look at the keypad. Had you really forgotten to close it this morning? You could've sworn you did.
You pressed the code and then wiped the screen with the sleeve of your shirt. It soon became forgotten when you stepped inside your apartment. The alcohol seemed to have clouded your mind on top of your senses.
With a yawn, you flopped down on the bed and fell fast asleep without changing, brushing your teeth, or getting under the covers.
You woke up with a terrible headache pounding your head. A groan slipped past your dry lips as you forced yourself to get up. Your whole world started spinning and you had to sit down to ground yourself.
Bile rose in your throat. You ran to the bathroom and managed to open the seat just in time for last night's pleasures to come out.
You felt confused again. Was it age that was starting to creep up on you? You didn't get hangovers very often, no matter how much you drank.
Resting against the tile wall behind, you let the cold cool your scorching skin. You knew you still had to go to work since you couldn't risk getting fired.
Slowly you peeled yourself off from the wall and started heading out after getting dressed. It was still relatively dark out, the winter sun rising on the horizon, but it was nowhere near as terrifying as when going home in the complete dark at night. That was a different type of darkness, a lonely one, which seemed to bring out the worst kinds of people lurking in the dark.
At work, your nice colleague greeted you with her usual cheery smile. She whispered that she had covered for you being late so no one had noticed.
With a grateful smile, you sat down in your spot and got ready to meet customers. Lately, you had noticed that your colleagues who were extra nice; smiling and almost touching the customers, would have more people go to their booths; so today, you were determined to put on your best fake polite smile and maybe you could get a permanent contract.
'' Number 29, please come to booth 4. ''
You saw a man stir in the crowd, hesitating, which made you internally sigh. You hadn't been very lucky with your booth number, that was yet another reason your performance always got criticized by your boss.
Sternly you leaned over the mic again, '' Number 29, please come forward. ''
The man finally gave up and walked over. When he sat down he looked both nervous and slightly uncomfortable. However, your warm smile made him loosen up.
'' Welcome. How can I help you today? ''
'' I would like to create an account. ''
You nodded and typed in the information. While working, you noticed his eyes on you, so you decided to strike up some small talk.
'' You live in Seongnam too? ''
The man's eyes widened, '' Yes...Do you live there? ''
'' I do, '' you chuckled, looking him right in the eyes now.
The intimate eye contact, coupled with your smile made him blush visibly. He looked away. Silence filled the space as you finished the last few things and showed him the screen. You gave him some necessary information, before handing him back his ID.
'' Maybe we can go out for coffee sometime? '' he mumbled after you were done talking and were ready to call the next customer.
He was handsome, there was no denying that, and he was definitely your type, with a bad boy appearance. He reminded you of your manager that you'd been crushing on and the cute new security guard at your apartment.
But it was unprofessional and you felt rather creeped out to be asked on a date at your job, especially in such an upfront way after you talked about where you lived.
'' Sorry, I can't do that. I'm working right now. ''
The man's smile faded, his eyes darkened and narrowed as he tilted his head, like he was unsure if he'd heard you correctly. '' I can take you out after. ''
Staring at him speechless, you wondered if the shy act he'd put on earlier was just that - an act. The man in front of you now didn't show any signs of being shy, quiet, nervous, or polite. He screamed of danger.
'' I- ''
'' You fucking whore! '' he cut you off screaming and catching the attention of everyone in the bank.
'' You flirted with me first, '' he started to his feet and began banging on the protective shield.
You jumped back, heart in your throat as you stammered. You couldn't get out a single word.
He tried reaching his arm in through the small gap and managed to pull you towards the shield. A scream ripped from your throat.
'' Security! '' you heard your manager shout.
You felt your arm be released just a few seconds later and you pulled away, breathing heavily. Even as he was being escorted away he kept screaming the same things, and creepily never taking his eyes off of you.
Red marks had formed where you were grabbed and you groaned when rubbing them. In the corner of your eye, you saw your manager approach so you quickly tried putting your arm under the table.
He saw it and grabbed it before you could do so. With a disappointed tick of his tongue, he inspected it and then freed you.
'' What a crazy asshole. ''
The shock had slowly started dissipating, '' Thank you. ''
'' No need to thank me, just call on me whenever you need. ''
You smiled awkwardly and bowed. Your manager left and the rest of the day went smooth sailing. Midday, you went for lunch with your coworker and Ryujin but you had a strange feeling in your stomach, like you were being watched.
It gnawed inside you, making it impossible to eat again. You put down your chopsticks and went back to work. Thankfully, after that, the thought was forced to the back of your mind due to how busy it was. You were pretty successful during the afternoon; making many customers satisfied as well as your boss, so you walked out at the end of the day with a small smile playing on your lips, despite the incident during the early hours.
'' Hey. ''
You froze in your steps. That voice, it sounded a lot like the man from before. You turned around very slowly, praying that you'd been mistaken.
The color drained off of your face when you faced him, it had been like you thought. The man from earlier was standing there, leaning back against the bus stop with a shit-eating grin on his face.
'' You have no idea how long I've waited for you. ''
Words got stuck in your dry throat. Your eyes started searching for help, but no one was around. Meanwhile, you could see how the man had started stalking towards you.
'' Why aren't you responding? You rude bit- ''
His hand caught your wrist in that painfully strong grip again and you yelped, flinging your arms around to escape him which had no effect at all; he just pulled you towards him, whipped you around, and hugged you from behind.
Suddenly, the grip loosened and you were pushed out of the way, almost knocking you over. You raised your head slowly.
The man was caught in a chokehold by your manager and couldn't get a word out, despite trying very hard to when he saw you move in the background.
You stared back at him, but after a few seconds, your eyes started flicking towards your manager's back instead. The man seemed to be losing consciousness and you started to feel anxious; this much violence wasn't necessary at all.
Without a word, you pulled your manager's hands away from the man who fell to the ground clutching his throat and coughing weakly.
'' I'm okay, '' you blurted out when he turned to you with a puzzled, almost angry look.
His frown disappeared and he seemingly accepted your answer. You let yourself be led towards his car and got in as you felt like your manager was someone you could trust. He had saved you twice now after all.
The whole ride, he talked about self-defense techniques; urging you to go to classes in the city and telling you about different weapons you could use. He also told you firmly that he'd file a police report for harassment and stalking since it was his job as a manager to keep his employees safe.
You only half-heartedly listened, feeling more zoned out the closer you got to the apartment building. The long day had made you incredibly tired, causing you to look forward to just going to sleep.
'' Take this, '' he concluded the rant right when the car pulled into the parking lot.
'' What is it? ''
'' It's a small pocket knife. ''
You frowned, '' That's illegal. ''
'' So? You'll be sorry if you get attacked and don't have it. ''
You hesitated for another moment. He grabbed your wrist and put it into your hand, closing it as if to say there'd be no further protest about the matter.
With a sigh, you gave up. Your manager parked the car and stepped out at the same time you did. He watched you as you went towards the entrance with one hand propped up on the roof of the car.
'' Do you need a ride tomorrow? ''
'' I'll be fine. Thank you, again, for- everything. ''
'' No problem, always glad to help. ''
And with that, he got back in the car and started it just as you opened the entrance door. You basked in the warmth that embraced you as soon as you entered the lobby.
The security guard who usually sat at the desk was nowhere to be seen. A smile shot to your lips. He was probably carrying up packages for the residents again, even though he wasn't allowed up there.
You glanced at his desk and something caught your attention. A very large package sat right on the edge of it, looking homemade with its messy taping and rough surface.
It intrigued you so you got closer. Your hand brushed along the material, eyes following it up all the way to the top where a small, white, paper square had been taped on.
' For: y/n '
You let out a small gasp. There was nothing else on the note, no other name or even address. Whoever sent it must've gone straight here instead of sending it through the mail.
With shaky hands, you used a cardboard knife cutter that was on the desk to cut the package open. Inside you saw a lone, small teddy bear. It was new, untouched, and had perfectly spot-free white fur.
You noticed it was holding a broken heart and it had a gloomy, melancholy expression on its face. While shoving your hand in to try and find if there was anything under the styrofoam, a sudden sound behind you made you jump.
'' Hey. ''
Recognizing the voice and placing it as belonging to the security guard, you visibly relaxed and turned around to face him.
'' You scared me. ''
'' Sorry about that. Ah, '' his eyes shifted to the package. '' you've opened it already. What was in it? ''
You waved the teddy bear in the air. '' Not much. Did you see who dropped it off? ''
'' It was just a regular delivery driver. He told me he'd been given it by some man the day before. ''
'' That's weird, '' you trailed off, mind already trying to come up with possible suspects.
For some reason, the dark staircase intruded your thoughts and in an instant, your focus shifted. Slowly your feet moved on their own until you were outside the building again.
The wind kissed your cheek and went past you, swirling down the steps. Your head turned with it. Just like the day before, it was dark, with only the scarce, dimly lit lamps illuminating spots here and there.
You weren't sure why you came out here. Had you expected to somehow spot the perpetrator in the dark, lurking while waiting for your reaction to opening the package?
One thing was for sure though, the gut feeling from before returned once again when you were at the staircase. That ominous, unexplainable feeling, of being watched.
The chill in the wind made you get back in as goosebumps littered your skin.
'' Did you see someone? ''
'' No, it's just...nothing. ''
You didn't feel like you were in the mood to explain and the security guard was thankfully exceptionally good at reading people, so he only smiled and bid goodnight.
In the dark of your own apartment, you lay for only a few minutes, aimlessly staring into the ceiling before it was interrupted by a rapt knock on your door. The sleepiness from before had disappeared since the new mystery had almost put you in a vigilant and paranoid state so you sprung up on your feet and opened it without any hesitation.
'' Sorry. You forgot this, '' it was your manager again, waving your wallet in the air.
'' Oh my god, I'm sorry. I feel like a burden now. ''
He laughed, '' It's fine. I noticed it almost right away. ''
You still felt bad even though he shook it off. Maybe you could invite him inside and offer tea or coffee for politeness; it was something you'd always seen your mom do when work on the house took a lot longer and the servicemen looked tired.
'' Would you like to come inside for a moment? I have coffee and tea. ''
'' I think I can spare a few minutes tea would be nice, '' he said, flashing a charming smile.
You returned it and then stepped aside so he could come in. He took a seat at your table next while you put the kettle on. An attempt at small talk was then made after silence briefly filled the space.
'' That guy will be banned from the bank, I'll see to it myself. You'll never have to worry about him again. ''
You sighed, '' Thank you, I don't know how I could ever pay you back, sir. ''
His eyes twinkled. Standing up he approached the door to the bathroom and pointed to it.
'' Can I use your bathroom? ''
'' Of course. ''
You went over to the kettle to see if it was almost ready. The sound of its hissing filled your ears. He took a long time in there and gave you room for your mind to wander off again.
He had found you quite quickly after you dropped your wallet and left the car. You stared at the door. Just as the door lock to the bathroom clicked, another thought struck you, this one much worse - How did he know where you lived?
Click
The door pushed open dramatically slow. Your manager stepped out and immediately locked eyes with you, he must've sensed something was wrong because he frowned.
His lips separated, but no words came out. He was left standing there, baffled, when you sprinted out of the apartment. You didn't stop until you reached the front desk.
'' Please call the police! ''
The security guard was startled by your entrance and jumped on his feet. '' What! Why? ''
'' My stalker is here, '' you waved your hands around, '' The one who gave me that package. ''
Things seemed to click in his head. He didn't question you further, instead calling the police and pulling you towards him protectively while you waited.
They arrived a lot quicker than you'd anticipated, which meant that only a few minutes had passed when your manager made his way downstairs after the shock had settled.
'' Why did you run? '' he questioned you.
You didn't answer and turned your head as if he was invisible. The security guard placed himself between you and your manager while the police led him out. He hadn't even been surprised they got called, it was like he was expecting them. You watched as they drove away with him in the back and sighed in relief.
'' Finally '' you mumbled to yourself, '' It's over. ''
The security guard smiled warmly at you which reminded you that you needed to thank him for his kindness.
'' I don't know how I could ever repay you for everything you've done for me. ''
He laughed, '' Don't worry about it. It's my job, and I'm just happy that you're safe. ''
'' Still, if it weren't for you I- '' you stopped, feeling yourself choking on tears as your mind imagined all possible endings.
He gave your shoulder a squeeze and looked at you sympathetically. Sensing that you needed some time to yourself, he then left to go talk to one of the remaining officers.
Long after they had all left and the commotion from the clamoring, nosey neighbors had settled, the feeling remained. It was hard going to sleep that night with your mind racing so much.
Despite that, you got ready and forced yourself to sleep, knowing that after some time you'd fall asleep naturally. You closed your eyes and daydreamed, occasionally taking a sip of the bottle of water next to your bed until falling into a deep slumber.
The next morning, you awoke with a pounding head yet again. Sitting up slowly you groaned and clutched it while your eyes looked around your apartment.
Something felt off.
You blamed the headache on stress and it causing you to not drink enough water, but you couldn't shake the feeling that the paranoia arose in you, the suspicion that someone had been inside your apartment.
'' That's nonsense, '' you sleepily mumbled to yourself.
One more yawn later and you managed to stand up, although with some difficulty. Inside the bathroom, you began to start your usual morning routine when your suspicions got closer to being confirmed.
On top of the toilet stood the roll of toilet paper. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary at first, it was in the same space it always was. However, on further inspection, the material was wet with a slight imprint of fingers.
You couldn't shake this off as a mere coincidence. All logical explanations were immediately ruled out - you hadn't showered before going to bed and the mark was so new, it wouldn't even have been left if you did go to the bathroom during the night. That was the thing, you didn't.
Freaked out of your mind, you did the first thing you could think of - leave the apartment.
With trembling hands, you managed to get your phone out while stumbling down the stairs. You called Ryujin who picked up almost immediately.
'' Y/n, you're late again! The boss is freaking out. ''
'' Sorry, I- '' you shook your pulsating head.
It was making you feel disoriented so words were formed a lot slower as your mind worked twice as slow.
'' Can you cover for me? I don't think I can come to work today actually. ''
'' What why? '' when she heard the uneasy tone in your voice, she paused. '' Did something happen? ''
'' I'll tell you later. ''
'' Okay, '' she worriedly agreed.
You had originally planned on going to work, but the events from the day before; as well as you convincing yourself that your stalker was waiting for you outside, made you reconsider.
On the short walk back to your apartment after you went to buy some food, you bumped into the security guard again.
'' Are you okay? ''
You turned around, quickly fixing your expression when you realized you must've looked erratic. '' Huh? ''
'' Did...something happen? ''
'' No. I'm okay. ''
You hurried to move on and get to your apartment. The silence inside when the door locked was deafening. A few seconds passed, then you turned all the lights on.
A kitchen knife was the weapon of choice as you navigated yourself through the apartment, checking every crook in it. You opened the door to your bedroom and bathroom with some hesitancy, only to find it completely empty, and just as you'd left them.
No one was hiding in your closet either, or under your couch, so you relaxed as you fell back on your bed again, exhausted from the stress and paranoia that was eating you up inside.
It must have been midday when you woke up again. It felt like it had been a long time since you left the building and actually went further than the corner shop.
Aimlessly you walked with a slight hurry to your steps, down the steep staircase, and into the center of the square where you hailed a cab.
Since the day before, you felt like you wanted to visit the police station. You needed to make sure the stalker had been caught and that it was just your mind playing tricks on you because you'd been so shaken up.
Thankfully it wasn't busy so you managed to get a hold of an officer at the desk right away.
'' Hey. How can I help you? ''
'' I'm wondering about someone you have in custody. I'm looking for someone and I want to see them. ''
'' Are you a family member? ''
'' No, is that okay? ''
'' State your relation to the person and who you want to see. ''
You filled in a form and then followed the lady at the reception as she led you through the maze that was the police station. The manager's eyes widened when he spotted you, and despite being warned by the guard not to, he started on his feet and grabbed the bars.
'' Y/n! Please tell them it was a misunderstanding. ''
Your lips thinned. '' I can't, because I'm not so sure it is. ''
He stared at you bewilderedly while incoherent words left his mouth until he finally turned his attention to the guard as an idea popped into his disoriented head.
'' Are you allowed to show her that I filed a report? ''
'' No sir. I can only confirm. ''
'' So you confirm that I filed a police report last night against the actual stalker and harasser of this lady? ''
'' I confirm you filed a report, '' the officer grumbled.
'' Why? ''
Your manager sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.
'' Because I'm not the man who has been stalking you! ''
'' How can I trust you? ''
For whatever reason, he hesitated which made alarm bells ring in your ears. You weren't sure you'd believe anything he'd say from then on, it all seemed very planned and rehearsed.
'' Look. I got your room number from the security guard, I asked him where you lived since I needed to give you the wallet back. ''
You shook your head and backed away from the bars. '' No, I don't believe you. Ever since I joined the company you've always been there, ready to protect me, coming out of nowhere to pretend to be my hero. But you're the one pulling the strings behind the scenes! You are my stalker. ''
You directed your attention to the officer again. '' Have you got enough evidence to keep him longer? ''
The ticking of the large clock right above your head made you aware of the fact that they'd have to release him out of custody unless they had compelling evidence.
'' No ma'am. The DNA test results will arrive in a week. ''
You released a shaky breath and raised both your hands as if trying to grasp something invisible to ground yourself.
'' Okay, okay, '' you mumbled under your breath.
'' The other possible suspect will be arrested tonight. If you'd like, we can escort you back home safely. ''
'' Yes please, I'd appreciate that. ''
If you stayed inside for a week, which was slightly inconvenient but manageable nonetheless, then maybe they'd have newer evidence as well as the DNA results from the gift box you gave them.
The kind officers escorted you home as promised and for the first time in a long time, you didn't feel paranoid and scared while waving goodbye to them. You went upstairs and checked every room again before falling asleep.
As you awoke the next day, the sun had risen a long time ago. Your work was the last thing on your mind. Instead of calling in sick again, despite the risk of being fired, you called your friend Ryujin.
There was a chance that your manager had been released so you didn't want to be alone.
She picked up after only a few rings, sounding out of breath and worried. '' Y/n? Where the fuck have you been? ''
You jumped back and winched at her loud voice. She was shouting so much that you could hear her perfectly fine even while holding the phone an arm's length away from your ear.
'' I was so worried! I thought something bad happened to you after that pervert at work caused a scene, and then you call me once to tell me to cover for you at work! ''
She did have a point. You didn't give her an explanation after basically going completely silent. No one at work must've had any clue what was going on in your private life and why you weren't there. But if anyone deserved to know it was Ryujin.
'' I'm sorry, '' you began, sighing heavily. '' I've been dealing with a lot of shit lately. ''
'' Like what? '' she spat back, although less angry and loud this time.
'' It's hard to explain. Ever since that day I've been feeling like someone's been watching me. ''
'' A stalker? ''
'' Yeah, something like that. ''
'' Why didn't you tell me sooner? ''
'' It was a lot I had to process and figure out on my own first. I think this...stalker has been breaking into my apartment. ''
'' What? ''
'' I don't have a lot of proof of it. Mostly, it's just a feeling. ''
She went quiet for a moment, then when she spoke again, her voice sounded thick with sympathy. '' I believe you. ''
'' Thank you, '' you smiled wholeheartedly even though she couldn't see you.
You didn't know how much you'd missed her until you heard her voice again.
'' Do you wanna come over? ''
'' Of course. I think you need someone right now, '' she half-joked. '' I have enough vacation days, so that won't be a problem. I'll be over in twenty! ''
'' Okay, bye see you! ''
'' Bye! ''
You spent the next twenty minutes pacing back and forth in your apartment, not daring to go check if the toilet roll had been used again. When the bell rang, you felt so relieved, you didn't even check who it was.
Thankfully, that time it was actually Ryujin and not someone else. You flung yourself into her arms and hugged her tightly.
'' Oh wow, someone's missed me. ''
'' Shut up, '' you gave her a grin despite your words, which she returned as she sat down.
'' So. Tell me everything. ''
*******
After hearing the whole story, your friend was more worried than ever. Her reaction was a lot stronger than the other people who knew about it and you felt relieved she shared your paranoia.
The two of you drove down to the station so you could see if they had released him yet. Luck seemed to finally be on your side as they told you they had extended the time and were questioning both of the suspects since the creep from your job had been brought in too.
The weight on your shoulders had lifted completely now. Unless they broke out or were freed not long after, you'd at least have a night of serene rest, finally worry-free.
'' We will contact you when we have more information, '' the kind lady at the desk told you while you were leaving again.
'' Maybe I can go back to work tomorrow. ''
Ryujin turned her head so fast she almost crashed the car.
'' Are you sure? Do you not feel scared anymore? ''
'' No, why would I? I think it'll be okay. Soon they will get the results and they can finally be charged and put away forever. ''
She hummed in response, deep in thought, but agreed in the end that it would be good for you to go back to routine. You would put the whole thing behind you.
'' Thank you for dropping me off, and for coming over today. ''
'' No need to thank me, I was going crazy thinking about all the things that could've happened to you. Promise me you'll never leave me in the dark like that again! '' she frowned.
You laughed loudly, '' Promise. ''
As she drove off you waved enthusiastically so she'd see you were fine, because she kept asking if you were sure you didn't want her to stay the night.
On the way up, you saw the security guard again. He noticed your bright smile and lit up when he saw you.
'' You seem to be in a good mood today. ''
'' Yes! I am. ''
He stepped into the elevator with you and raised a small package in his hand to show you he was doing a delivery.
'' Is there any reason in particular? ''
'' The whole thing has been solved...well, pretty much anyway. The two suspects were arrested so I will be sleeping well tonight. ''
'' That's great! ''
You nodded, '' What floor are you going to? ''
'' Same as you, the eight, '' he gestured to the buttons and you pressed it for him.
'' You're too nice, I keep saying it. Shouldn't people come get their own packages in the lobby? ''
'' They should, but they don't. I guess the positive thing is that it leads to better reviews, so higher prices, and then I get a higher salary, '' he winked.
'' Smart, playing the long game. ''
You stepped out of the elevator and started walking towards your apartment. Even from afar, you noticed something was wrong with the lock. It kept beeping and flashing an error message.
It was quite easily fixed so you tried to contain your irritation on the inside.
'' Are you okay over there? '' the security guard shouted from the other side of the hallway.
He had dropped off his package and came over, having heard the noises.
'' Damn it. That fucker must've been inside this morning. ''
'' I thought he was arrested. ''
You nodded and swallowed bitterly, a look of disdain struck across your features. '' He was, I guess he just had to do it one last time. ''
'' Will you be okay? '' his soft voice sounded even more gentle as it was laced with genuine concern, '' do you want me to check? ''
'' No. The danger's gone, he can't hurt me anymore. ''
You didn't know if it was him you were trying to convince or yourself.
'' You can sleep with me, '' he timidly added.
'' What? '' you whipped your head around, having been lost in your thoughts for a moment.
'' I meant sleep by me, '' he blushed, '' in the lobby, if you feel scared. ''
You knew he probably meant well, but it was hard to hide the expression your face changed into since you felt a little weirded out. To sleep near someone is to trust them completely.
'' Thank you. I'll remember that in case I change my mind. ''
It was said in a stern tone, finalizing the conversation. The security guard was observant and picked up on it, nodding curtly before leaving. You gave the lock one final irritated look, then closed the door behind you and hurried to turn the lights on.
One tour later where you found no one and you were yet again left to make the hours go by until it was time to fall asleep again. You were thankful for the water bottle that always stood on your nightstand then as you downed it thirstily.
It washed over you like a wave, the sleepiness, and like it was knocking you over, you found yourself falling back against the soft mattress and blinking hazily at the ceiling.
Mere minutes after, you couldn't fight against it any longer so you became engulfed in what had become a familiar darkness. The sun outside slowly started fading, there was no way to tell how long it had been since you laid down; its last golden-red beams illuminated against your window.
Your room which was now one with the darkness suddenly lit up briefly. The screen of a phone on the table lighting up as a message popped up.
It went unnoticed and so the room turned black again. But then more messages came in, just when it was about to go dark - another lit up the room.
00:13
Ryujin: y/n?
Ryujin: can you answer me? this is important
00:14
Ryujin: are you okay?
00:15
Missed call from Ryujin
00:15
Ryujin: if you don't pick up the phone I'm coming over, if you see this, make sure you lock your door and the windows, also make sure you check everywhere!
Ryujin: the DNA results came in
The sound of a door unlocking echoed in the apartment. A hooded man stalked towards your sleeping form and the bed dipped as he sat down on it to pet your head.
00:15
Ryujin: it's not them, it's someone else
You stirred in your sleep, blissfully unaware of the danger that lurked just above you.
'' Sorry about the drugs, sweetheart. It's the only way I could visit you at night. But now, we will be together forever, '' the man said, and as he carried you out, the reflection in the mirror showed your stalker - the security guard.
*******
(explanation; although I think most people will guess it right I'll explain why it was him. The reason all she did was sleep was because of the drugs, he put them in the water bottle and then snuck in after she fell asleep during his nightshift, he laid next to her & even used her things (such as the paper) because he played '' house '' or pretended he was her boyfriend; since he was the security guard he had the easiest access to her as they often have keys to every apartment & it's also why he said he didn't see anyone delivering the package to y/n, I guess your enemies are a lot closer than you'd think c: !! if u have any more questions feel free to send them <3
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meaningofaeons · 9 months
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-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ strength in weakness
⊹ character(s) - gojo satoru ⊹ word count - 891 ⊹ notes - fem!reader, hurt/comfort, fluff, silliness, spoilers for s2e5/hidden inventory arc (premature death), reader is a teacher at jujutsu high + a sorcerer ofc, kinda ocxcanon coded im sorry, this is so rushed and dumb and AUUUGHHHH
I....... I caved (ミዎ ﻌ ዎミ) this man does so many things to me and after seeing the last frame in the ep where his eyes looked a lil red (im including a pic at the end.) I had to write this up. also im so sorry this is like 110% me just turning my oc x gojo into a drabble lmfao LOVE YALL
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"Gojo-sensei!"
"Ah, he's awake!"
"Hey, that's one of those expensive chairs, isn't it?!"
"Please don't fall asleep after summoning all of us here."
You stood idly by as your students pestered Satoru, arms crossed firmly in front of your chest. The man only smirked a bit, lifting his blindfold just enough to give Megumi a look.
In the split second before he pulled it back down, you caught sight of his eye, and faltered.
"Ha!"
"Oi, come on! My turn next!"
Yuji's bickering and Nobara's victorious, haughty laughter faded into background fuzz as you gazed after the special grade sorcerer, Megumi raising a brow at him.
"What're you smiling about?"
"Oh, nothing."
The white-haired man turned his head, and you could tell that even beneath that blindfold, he was staring straight at you.
"Ohhh~... Y/N came along too, huh?"
"L/N-sensei was with us when we remembered you had asked us to come by. She just walked us over."
"Aw, not here to see me, huh?"
You sighed, a bit of sarcasm leaking into your voice.
"As loathe as I am to hurt your delicate feelings, Satoru, I just walked the kids over."
Megumi gave his teacher serious side eye before responding. "I don't think anyone would willingly go to see you without being prompted to."
"Ouch."
You paused for a moment as Satoru turned around again, leaning down and beckoning the dark-haired student over. He listened politely to your words, and though he gave you an odd look, he walked over to Nobara and Yuji nonetheless.
"You two, let's wait outside for a bit."
"Huh?! But Kugisaki hasn't let me sit yet!"
"You can sit in the chair later. Gojo-sensei doesn't mind."
"I'll just take it from Itadori again!"
"Why, you—!"
The two eventually barreled out the door, Megumi giving you a small nod before sliding it shut behind himself. Satoru plopped himself back into his seat at that, his easy smile still ever-present.
"So you did come to see me."
"Not really," you murmured casually, earning an overdramatic, shocked gasp from the man. However, he calmed the theatrics upon the sound of your gentle footfalls, feeling your shadow fall over his seated form. "Just thought of something."
Your fingers brushed over the edges of his blindfold before you could stop yourself, but Satoru only shrugged, the barest hint of hesitation seeping into his light tone.
"Go for it."
You pushed the material up just far enough to see his eye once more, your thumb brushing over the reddened flesh beneath it. Slightly puffy, almost as if...
Right. It was around this time of year.
You recalled the time of your youth perhaps just as vividly as Satoru did, but you never were quite as close with Suguru as he was. So no matter how much you remembered, it couldn't compare to what he had seen.
"I'm starting to think you've got some less-than-professional feelings for me, L/N-sensei, what with this tender touch. Are you giving me special treatment?"
"Be serious for a moment," you scoffed, but your hand did not recoil. It made Satoru's smirk drop, even if only a bit.
Your voice was far gentler than he'd ever heard it before.
"How are you feeling?"
Perhaps it was an obvious question to ask, one with an obvious answer—regardless of how he truly felt, Satoru's answer would always be something placating, something lighthearted and in jest.
But this time, he only glanced away, blindfold still pushed up.
"Well, it was just a dream."
You nodded, hand falling away from his face. Before it could fall to your side, however, the man sitting beside you reached out, taking it gingerly.
You didn't ask any further. Prodding the issue would lead nowhere.
But your hand squeezed his just slightly, just enough for him to feel your flesh, warm and alive.
You were here. That's really all he needed in this moment of vulnerability.
"I didn't take you for the comforting type."
Your eyebrow twitched as he slipped back into that teasing lilt of his.
"I can comfort you with a nice slap to the face, if you'd prefer it."
"Not like you could touch me, anyhow~."
"You little—"
Before you could even react, Satoru had scampered to the door, slamming it open and wrapping an arm around Yuji and Megumi's shoulders, spouting some nonsense about missing his beloved students.
"What took you so long, Sensei?" Yuji asked, face scrunching as the white-haired man ruffled his hair.
"Don't you know anything, Itadori? He and L/N-sensei were in there alone, so obviously..."
Nobara's words devolved into hushed whispers as she spotted you in the corner of her eye, and you shot Satoru a warning glance as he leaned back to get a look at you.
You were sure that, in the several years you'd known one another, the man would have long since been able to recognize your eyes clearly saying, 'Don't feed a word into this, or I'll pummel you to death.'
Alas...
"Exactly right, Kugisaki! Full marks!"
"Whaaat?! Seriously?! Sensei, you and L/N-sen—"
"Don't feed them nonsense, you ingrate!" you shouted at once, chasing after a very unrepentant Satoru as he skipped around the courtyard. Megumi only grumbled out a sigh.
"So we all agree something's going on, ri—"
"Enough, Kugisaki, let's just go."
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SEE WHATD I SAY!!!! HIS EYES!!!! I love you forver. .... please dont cry .................
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runnning-outof-time · 2 months
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You Asked, I Answered | Tommy Shelby & Friend!Reader
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Request: yes by @justrainandcoffee
Pairing: Tommy Shelby & Friend!Reader (platonic)
Summary: After finally working up the courage to do so, (Y/N) confesses something she's been hiding from her best friend. Tommy answers in the most Tommy way possible.
Warnings: smoking, language
A/N: thanks for sending this in, Flor! I hope you like how it turned out and I hope you like how I weaved the prompt you sent in! Enjoy! :)
I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!
Comment/Message me if you want to be tagged!
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I'm gonna tell him. I'm gonna tell him. I'm gonna tell him.
That was the statement that (Y/N) kept repeating in her mind as she made her way over to her friend's home on Watery Lane. She had no clue why she was feeling nervous right now, or why she needed to be psyching herself up to do this.
The two blinders standing outside the Shelby residence recognized her immediately. They both tipped their caps to her as they let her enter the home. She didn't have to venture too far in to find him. He was sitting in one of the chairs in the small entry room that the house had.
"Tommy?" (Y/N) called after the sound of the door shutting hadn't been enough to get him to look in her direction. His eyes snapped over to her when she spoke his name, and the distant gaze that greeted her was enough to make the breath freeze in her throat. "Is everything ok?"
Tommy nodded instead of responding verbally, his eyes finding the floor again. (Y/N) frowned and moved over to the chair that was sitting to the left of his.
"Business, hmm?" she asked in a knowing tone as she took a seat. It was obvious to Tommy that 'business' was a code word for the vendetta that the Shelby and Changretta families had been intertwined in for a few weeks now. She didn't want to say the word outright.
"Business," he affirmed with a slow nod of his head, letting out a sigh after he finished speaking.
"Anything I can help with to alleviate your stress?" she wondered aloud. Tommy didn't answer right away, so she continued, "you've always helped me when I needed it, so I'd love to re..."
"No. There's no need for that, (Y/N)," he cut her off, looking over at her as he shook his head. "This business isn't for you to be involved in."
(Y/N) nodded as she heard what he had to say. She wouldn't argue with his response. She just wanted him to know that she'd be there if he ever needed her.
Silence fell between the two of them then, and they held each other's gaze, both not really knowing where to take the conversation next. Of course, (Y/N)'s main topic was bouncing around her mind, just begging to be let out. She just had to wait for the right time. Tommy's mind was a mess of many different things...it always was these days with everything he had going on. (Y/N) said that she'd listen whenever he needed to talk, and she always had when he came to her in the past, but he felt that he couldn't burden her with the stresses he had weighing his shoulders down now.
"Is there a reason you've come over here?" Tommy finally asked. There wasn't any malice in his tone, and (Y/N) knew that his question was far from that. She'd been friends with him for enough years to know that he rarely liked to beat around the bush when it came to getting information. The pleasantries were almost always skipped. That's why she was so nervous to share what she'd been keeping from him for several weeks now.
"I, um...I wanted to tell you something actually," she finally mustered up the ability to say, busying herself by playing with her fingernails so that her nervousness wouldn't fully come through in her words. She wasn't sure how much it worked though.
"What's that?" he questioned, his one eyebrow quirked upwards.
"I've been keeping it from you for a few weeks now..." she trailed off, her eyes finding his again to see that he'd been staring intently at her the entire time. Instantly she felt like she was under interrogation. Tell him, (Y/N)!, she screamed at herself. "And it's not because I didn't want to tell you, it's just that...well more important things have been happening..." she paused again, justifying - or at least trying to - her reasoning for keeping this secret for so long. "I wanted to tell you that...that I, uh, well I've actually..."
"(Y/N)," Tommy's voice was flat, and it stopped her stammering instantly. It was the tone that he used with all of his business associates and blinders that worked under him. The tone that told them they were wasting his time; that they needed to get to the point. Now the former may not have been the case here with (Y/N)'s pauses, but the latter certainly was.
"I've met somebody, Tommy," she finally gathered the courage to blurt out, "and I'm in love with him." The breath got caught in her throat after she admitted her secret to him, and she stared at him with wide eyes. Each second that passed where he didn't speak felt like an eternity.
Tommy opened his mouth to say something, but instead closed it and pursed his lips. He looked away from (Y/N), a tell tale sign that he was thinking over what she'd just said. She hated the fact that she could read him like the back of her hand at that moment. Then, after what felt like forever, he spoke. "I'm happy for ya," was all he said, his eyes finding hers again.
"Thanks," she couldn't help but smile at his response. It wasn't much, but it was what she was looking for...well it was a half of what she was looking for. "I...I need your help," she started then, going back to wringing her hands together.
A look of confusion filled Tommy's features. "With?" he asked, wondering what she could possibly need help with in regards to this front. Did she need him to vet the man? Need him to check and make sure that he wasn't into anything he wasn't supposed to be. That was the type of man she deserved after all: a good man.
"I don't know what to say to him," she admitted, "we see each other quite often, and he's a sweet man...he's really sweet to me, but I don't know how to tell him how I feel."
"Just tell him," was the very basic advice Tommy had to offer, and it was accompanied with one of his famous shoulder shrugs.
"How do I tell him, Tommy?" she asked for more clarification, "because if I could tell him, I would have already."
"I don't know what more to say, (Y/N)," he admitted, grasping at straws as he wracked his brain, trying to think of something more to add. Nothing was coming up. Admittedly, it was hard to even get his mind to focus on it.
"I need advice. I..." she paused, exhaling a breath as she thought about all of the moments where she could have told Ben - the man she was completely enamored with, how she truly felt. She shook her head then, hating how she chickened out every single time. That's why she decided to come to Tommy. He was confident. He rarely, if ever, crumbled in situations like these. And above all, he was her friend. He needed to help her with this. "I need your help with this."
Tommy sucked in a breath and then exhaled it slowly, trying to center himself. He then reached into his jacket pocket and fished out his cigarette tin. Going about the motions of placing one between his lips and lighting it so that he could then take a long drag from it bought him enough time to collect his thoughts. "See how it plays out then," he finally offered another piece of advice. Although with the face (Y/N) pulled in reaction to it, it's hard to say if it could even be called 'advice'.
"What is that supposed to mean?" she questioned, incredulousness seeping into her words.
"You've not found a way to tell him, so just see how things play. Maybe you'll find a way to, maybe he'll come out with it," he explained his reasoning further.
(Y/N) held his gaze for a moment, her mouth opened slightly, showing her surprise. She was trying to think of something to say. There were few times where Tommy had left her speechless. She thought she was used to his out of pocket responses; the way he'd tell the truth without any buffers.
"What's his name?" Tommy asked before she was able to get anything out.
"Ben. Benjamin Martin," she answered, tilting her chin upwards slightly so as to (hopefully) show that she hadn't been fazed by his previous unhelpful advice.
"That's just bad taste," Tommy scoffed, more so to himself than anything, but (Y/N) heard him loud and clear.
"Excuse me?" she scoffed in response, her eyes widening.
"He's the man?" he checked with her.
"He is," she insisted.
"(Y/N), he's a war shy bastard...managed to dodge every fucking draft there was. He's not going to protect you if it comes down to it. He won't be there when you need him."
"He needed to stay. His mother was ill. She needed him to stay and take care of her," she insisted.
"That's what he's told you. His family has money, (Y/N). You surely know that. He was able to buy his way out of it," Tommy didn't waste a moment in sharing the truth with her.
"How can you say this?" she asked him, her brow furrowed deeply. "You're my friend..."
"You asked, I answered," he answered simply with a slight shrug of his shoulders.
"Well it's rather rich of you to respond in such a way considering the fact that your love life is an absolute trainwreck," (Y/N) snapped at him, speaking without thinking. Her mind was still caught on his brash thoughts on the man she was seeing.
"I don't know what you mean," Tommy responded in a dismissive tone, one that told her that he really didn't want to be given any further explanations.
But (Y/N) gave him one anyway. "I know that Lizzie's pregnant. I know that May's come back into town. You're leading one woman on while playing with the emotions of another," she used his ways against him, telling him the truth without any buffers.
"You asked, I answered," he repeated his previous statement, his tone still dismissive.
"Maybe I shouldn't have come to you with this..." she started, huffing as she stood from her seat. "I know that you've got a lot on your plate now, but...but you're my friend. You've always been my friend and we've been through worse before. I thought you'd help me," she hated the fact that her voice cracked as she uttered the final sentence.
"I don't have much help to give at the moment, (Y/N)," Tommy shook his head, stubbing the cigarette he'd essentially forgotten out in the ashtray before he ran a hand over his face.
"I see that now," she sighed. There wasn't any resentment laced into her words. Instead she was just upset. Upset because she thought she would have gained something useful in coming to him. Boy was she so wrong in thinking that. She hadn’t gained anything from this conversation. All that came out of it was frustration. “I have to go, Tommy. I’ll see you around, yeah?”
“Yeah,” his response came out as a breath, and his eyes found hers as he nodded.
Their eye contact was brief, and (Y/N) was the one to break it, leaving the Shelby home with the hopes that all of the hell that was happening in their lives would blow over so that she could have her friend back to the way she knew him before.
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