Tumgik
#don’t know why but it’d be so fun... so fun
chelseeebe · 2 days
Text
and they said, speak now
Tumblr media
18+. mdni. smut. mentions of cheating. femreader!xeddie. no use of y/n!
a little second chance romance story wherein eddie is invited to your wedding, though he’s hopeful that it’ll never actually happen.
a/n: wanted to get this finished so i could start writing a follow up for too sweet (bc i love it and i love mean asshole eddie) so i hope it bridges some sort of gap while i write :p switches pov a lil bit but it’s all marked out 4 ya.
“-gettin’ married to who?” eddie spits, barreling into the living room with a mouthful of cereal.
steve looks up from the paper invite and shrugs, “mark?” mouthing a quiet i don’t know as robin looks between the two.
“and i’m invited?”
“i mean.. it says all of us so..” he looks up at eddie, “do you even want to go?” dubious at eddie’s overly keen questioning.
eddie’s bewildered that he’d even ask, “‘course we’re fucking going,” shaking his head, still gripping onto his bowl of cereal, “i didn’t even know she was datin’ anybody else.. what the fuck.”
robin shares a look with her best friend, thinking eddie hasn’t seen. he knows exactly what they’re not saying. it doesn’t exactly need to be spelled out for him.
perhaps eddie hadn’t ever really gotten over it. it being you leaving to new york for college, breaking up with him in the process.
maybe they were justified in their judgemental glances, it’d been years since you’d left. he should be over it by now. evidently, you’ve moved on. why hadn’t he?
but he wasn’t and now he’s not sure if he’ll ever be.
-
the five of them shovel into jonathan’s car, robin squished between eddie and steve in the back with their bags piled high in the trunk.
eddie stares out of the window, he had started to regret agreeing to go. his ex-girlfriend, whom he wasn’t exactly over, was getting married to some fuckhead he’d never met and now he had to go and wear a suit and pretend to be happy about it all.
“i still can’t believe she’s getting fucking married,” he grumbles into his fist.
robin grins, nudging her elbow into steve’s ribcage, “oh this going to be so much fun,” elated at his misery.
jonathan sighs quietly, throwing his head back against the seat and slyly turning the volume up so as to not hear any more of eddie’s whining.
there’d been months of it, so he’s not surprised.
-
eddie is fucking elated to reach the hotel, gawping at the grand exterior as they get out of the car, stretching their legs after the long trip.
“jeez,” robin utters, staring at the tall building with her mouth hung open, “at least she’s marrying rich, hey?” wiggling her brows at eddie’s less than excited face.
he doesn’t rise to it, ignoring her obvious attempts to get him riled up.
it’s even nicer inside, gold plated ornaments decorate the walls, outdated paintings of old people he didn’t care to know, joining them.
they’re in the process of checking in when a familiar voice comes from behind, a small, meek, “hey guys!”
it’s you.
they spin, sharing tired smiles as you stand looking horrifically awkward. like somehow you hadn’t shared years and years of history with every single person here.
everyone else gets a short, half hug, exchanging niceties while eddie waits patiently for his turn. he doesn’t think you’ll even acknowledge him.
but your eyes lock, that same sinking feeling that he felt all those years ago as he watched your car pull out of hawkins plagues his stomach.
“hey,” you nod, tense as you open your arms for a hug.
it’s more than he’d ever expected, now finding himself stuck, unable to embrace the situation. you’re exactly the same and yet he feels like he doesn’t recognise you. barely touched by the graces of age, still the same girl he was sure he still loved.
eventually he pulls himself together, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to pull you in.
fuck.
you even smell the same. the heavy vanilla scent of your shampoo wafts through the air, transporting him back in time to nights shared in his cramped room, talking about the future together and how you couldn’t wait to get out of hawkins.
it’s utterly ironic, and not to mention heartbreaking, to think about now.
“hi,” eddie musters, sounding as pathetic as he felt.
the others watch on in anticipation, expecting a screaming match only to be met with whatever the fuck this was. dancing around each other like two complete strangers.
“how.. uh, how was the drive?” you ask, fiddling with your fingers, the way you used to when you were nervous.
“long,” he smiles meekly.
there’s too much he wants to say, desperately wanting to just shake you and ask what the hell you’re doing getting married to someone who’s not him.
besides, four sets of eyes watch both of you eagerly, hoping for an argument or maybe the exact opposite.
“there you are!” a gruff voice bellows, coming out of the mouth of the most insufferable looking man eddie’s ever seen.
he walks over with his shit-eating grin, taking you away from eddie’s grasp, leaving an aching in his fingertips.
your brows shoot upward, sighing softly, “everyone, this is mark.. mark, these are my..” your eyes dip, unable to meet eddie’s gaze, “friends.”
mark’s hand extends towards eddie, grinning like a complete fool as he shakes it. “nice to meet you man! heard so much about you,” his grip tight, squeezing the tired bones in his hand.
eddie wonders if he’s asserting his dominance, if you’d told him who exactly he was. about all those years you spent as his girlfriend. about how he used to make you cum in two minutes. or perhaps all the times you swore that if you had to get married, it’d be to him.
eddie doesn’t count on it.
-
eddie waits. and he waits. and he waits.
pacing the floor of his room, contemplating if he truly had the nerve to stalk the halls to your room or if he’d have to sit here and regret it forever.
fuck it, he thinks. there’s no guarantee he’ll even knock on the door, he just needs to get out of here and at least try to.
eddie’s acutely aware that nothing he says to you will change your mind in fact, he thinks you’ll more than likely slam the door in his face.
but he’s gotta try.
- reader’s pov -
it’s a quiet knock, barely audible as you toss and turn.
you debate even answering, too caught up in your nerves to care about some bridesmaid complaining about her dress or your mother prattling on about the floral arrangements again.
but then they knock again, louder this time though it sounds more unsure, a hesitant wrap of the knuckles, pulling yourself from the comfort of your blanket to see what they wanted.
you hardly register who the person is before immediately wanting to slam the door in his face.
“what are you doing?” you hiss through the small gap in the door, noting that it was somewhere between 11 and midnight.
“i wanna talk,” eddie frowns, carefully wedging his foot between the door, as if you wouldn’t immediately notice.
“we don’t need to talk,” you refute, scowling at your batshit crazy ex.
he sighs, looking around the empty corridor, knowing he shouldn’t be here right now. “can we.. i just wanna talk.. that’s it,” his eyes wide and begging.
you take pity on him, you always did when he had that pathetic frown on his face. like a dejected puppy that needed you to cradle him.
something in your head screams out to just close the door, it’s a terrible idea and you know it.
alas, you pull it open a few more inches, giving him the chance to slide inside before it’s shut again, turning the lock immediately.
if anyone were to walk in, your relationship would be ruined, tomorrow would just be a waste of money and you’d be a social pariah in your circles.
“why didn’t you tell me that you were getting married?”
the nerve to ask that question like he deserved an explanation. you haven’t even seen the man in years and yet, he feels as if he’s owed something from you.
“i didn’t know i had to,” you shrug, standing a few feet away from him, hoping to keep the distance.
eddie scowls, brows knitted into a line across his forehead, “you don’t- i thought we were friends.. friends tell each other those things.”
“you haven’t seen me in years eddie!” raising your voice despite being surrounded by your friends and family. “what gives you the right to march in here and ask me that?” stepping closer with every word, taken aback by his sheer nerve.
his eyes harden, jaw tense, “you left me- you did that and then the next time i hear from you, it’s because you’re getting married? s’that not completely fucked up to you too?”
“i didn’t leave you! i went to college, like people our age are supposed to! it’s not my fault that you’d rather sit in jeff’s basement pretending to be a rockstar,” snarling your upper lip, hoping you’ll hit him right where it hurts.
if nothing else, it’s frustrating. eddie was always talking about his big dreams and how he was going to get out of hawkins once and for all, make something of himself and never look back.
but you got tired of waiting for that to happen. years and years of soon and i’m not ready’s had left you pretty hopeless for any kind of future with him.
he shakes his head, scoffing, “oh? so should i have followed you to new york? watched you change everything about yourself for some asshole?”
there’s a lump in your throat now and weirdly, not a speck of anger. at least not about his words for your fiancé. more so about his complete disregard of your feelings, the dreams you put on hold for him.
“i didn’t.. i didn’t change,” bottom lip trembling, “this is me eddie,” nostrils flaring as you skulk closer, “you just don’t know me anymore.”
“i know you better than he does,” he fires back, adams apple bobbing in his throat. a sincere, honest tone.
it only makes you more frustrated, the audacity to come here and act like this, the day before your wedding.
you laugh in his face, a maniacal cackle, “you’re deluded,” gathering all of your strength not to punch him in the face, “you should leave, before you embarrass yourself any more.”
he’s almost frantic now, grasping the air, “i’m not the one embarrassing myself here. the you i know would never want this.. what happened to that girl who promised to marry me? where’s she?”
“people change eddie! you clearly haven’t!” you hiss, prodding your finger into his chest, hoping you’ll somehow set him alight with your fingertip.
he grabs your hand, keeping it close to his heart as his frown sets in. “tell me- tell me that this is what you want, the big wedding and fucking mark and a coupl’a kids, tell me and i’ll leave,” downturned eyes, begging himself not to cry.
you want to scream, ferociously snatching your hand away from him before you turn away. sick to death of looking into his glossy chestnut eyes. loathing the feeling of your past flooding back into your brain.
a few years ago, you would’ve been certain that eddie was the one you were going to marry. marriage wasn’t something you were ever particularly interested in, your parents hadn’t been the best example. but if it had happened, it would’ve been nothing like this, maybe in the tiny chapel in hawkins, a couple years from now, a small, private ceremony with your friends and family. you’d be lying if you said you had never thought about it.
about what could’ve been.
somewhere, buried deep inside, you longed for it.
eddie doesn’t budge, hearing the sounds of his heavy breathing from behind. you can picture that stupid look on his face, pathetic and sullen as he waits for a fleck of hope.
you turn back, praying that you’ll have somehow found the strength to tell him to leave in the two seconds it takes to face him.
it doesn’t come, the lump in your throat dissipating only to be replaced with a fiery pit in your stomach.
and then a moment, where neither of you have the guts to speak any longer, in what feels like the most intense battle of eye contact you’d ever been a part of.
but it’s over as quickly as it started, both of you lurching forward at the same time, lips crashing together in a hungry kiss, finding the side of his head for leverage as his antsy hands grip your waist.
the rest is just a silent routine, one you two have been through a hundred times before.
your back crashes into the desk, pressed into the wood by his torso. a hand squeezing your thigh as you’re helped onto the surface.
the metal on your fourth finger aches, as if some higher power is attempting to intervene, to stop this mistake before it goes too far.
it’s dutifully ignored, spreading your legs to allow him between your soft thighs. the thin material of your shorts meant that you could feel everything. his cock jumping as it brushes against your heat, low grumbling into your mouth at the action.
his jacket slips from his shoulders and onto the floor, your soft hands running down the length of his arms, brushing against the tattoos you used to spend hours tracing.
eddie’s hands roam your body, between your thighs, tucking underneath the elastic of the shorts as your hips lift in unison, allowing him to pull them down.
his throat rumbles at your lack of underwear, rough denim pressed against your cunt, his erection demanding out of his jeans.
your fingers fumble with his jeans, hearing the low clink of his belt somewhere muddled between his grunting and your melodic pants.
the throbbing between your thighs becomes almost insatiable, finding your own release on the rough fabric of his jeans, sighing into his mouth, allowing his tongue to slip into yours instead.
cold fingers grip your thighs, lifting your legs so that they rest around his waist, clothed cock nudging against your heat, growling into your mouth.
your head jerks back, “my mom.. my mom’s next door..” you pant, fingers trailing over his lips, doing nothing to muffle his raspy groans.
“good,” eddie smirks, hurriedly tugging his boxers down beneath his balls, burying himself inside of your soaked cunt, “i never liked her.”
a strangled moan is all you manage in response, grabbing at the desk for a little leverage as his hips meet the back of your thighs. any anger you felt towards his insults towards your mother quickly float away, turning into static as he slides slowly in and out.
marvelling at the sight of your cunt once again envelopes around him. you’d missed that, his damn near infatuation with your pussy.
the wooden frame knocks against the wall, whatever shit you had compiled for the morning all comes tumbling down, clattering to the floor alongside your long mewls.
eddie near enough melts, fingers melding into one with your skin, filling your cunt to the hilt. a certain feeling that had never been replaced, only achieved by him and his undeniable love for your pussy.
your lips catch onto his, attempting to muffle his hoarse groans, hoping to to god that the walls were thick enough.
“missed you,” he murmurs, half into your mouth, the other vibrating against your chin as your lips connect in the most careless manner.
your eyes flutter shut, chest heaving, pressed to his as your fingers begin to loosen their grip on the desk. his pace unfaltering with utter desperation, an exhilaration he had chased for years, to no avail.
“fuck,” you whine, regretting the shaky word the second it slips out. one arm hooks around his neck, forehead resting against his as his hair begins to stick.
it’s so disgusting, so wracked with desire that you’re sure you’ll be thinking- feeling it for months.
eddie’s cock nudges against against the spot only he could ever find, his pubic bone catching against your clit. fuelling the inextinguishable fire in your stomach, only making it rise into your throat.
with every fervent thrust he’s grumbling something;
fuck, shit, love you, love you.
your legs tremble, exhausted as they sit around his zealous hips. naturally, they tighten, drawing him in closer, an incessant need to feel all of him all at once.
“you can’t.. not inside,” you pant, opening his eyes to meet his though they’re not on yours. staring starry eyed at the space between your bodies, watching as they collide in ways your heart had longed for.
he’s close, you can tell. choking on his breaths when you squeeze around him, signalling your own orgasm.
“fuck, i can’t-,” eddie howls, desperately pounding his cock into your quivering cunt, giving everything away for the last thirty seconds.
you cry out, toppling over the edge as your stomach all but bursts, the pleasure reaching every last nerve in your body. clinging to his neck with a white knuckle grip, clutching his clammy skin as your body turns to mush before him.
eddie just about manages to pull out, sliding between your slick folds before his stomach lurches, shooting thick ropes of cum onto your stomach, thighs and the desk.
your foreheads remain as one, gasping into the hot air that surrounds you.
finally, his eyes trail up toward yours, meeting with the most sorrowful look that a man who has just cum, could hold.
it’s as if reality sets in, untangling your legs to shove him away. harsh and untoward as he stumbles back, still reeling from his own orgasm.
“oh my god,” you mumble incoherently, “oh my god, i’m getting married tomorrow,” clenching your fist, shouting as if he were somehow unaware.
his silence is deafening, his release still clinging to your body as you jump from the wooden table, marching into the bathroom, swallowing the urge to cry.
eddie stands with his head hung low, belt still undone as you sanctimoniously barging back past him to redress yourself, muttering ferocious whispers to yourself.
“i’m getting married tomorrow,” you repeat, unwavering anger in your voice. undecided on whether you were telling him or yourself that fact.
“so you’re still gonna marry him?” eddie asks, a slight hint of optimism in his tone. he had reason to be, you suppose. anyone else would assume the same.
you swallow, “what else is there for me?”
getting married had been the next logical step. you had the job, the house, the sweet, timid guy that wouldn’t hurt a fly. why wouldn’t you marry him?
his face crumples, brows stitched together in confusion, “me?”
almost on instinct, your head shakes, smacking your palm into his shoulder, “no. not you. it’s not supposed to be you,” a certain sadness plaguing your tone, “it was never supposed to be you,” palm slapping into his chest.
eddie’s face falls, holding his jacket in his hands wishing you’d take it back, tell him you were lying and that you really did still love him.
buried somewhere under years of regret, you probably still did.
tears weep out of the corner of your eye, quickly wiped away with your trembling finger. “you need to leave,” eyes pointed to the floor, refusing to look at him any longer.
he sighs, hesitantly stepping around the mess you both had made and out of your peripheral view. slow steps, willing for your mouth to open and those three words to dance out of it.
the door clicks shut and you’re alone again. nauseous and wishing you had just let him stay, wanting nothing more than to be held in your insurmountable feelings of remorse.
-
you’ve barely slept, overwhelmed with a sense of guilt and indecision.
six years of work and making something of yourself had come horrifically crashing down in one night, one stupid, moronic mistake.
but was it really a mistake when your heart still aches and your lips still feel the traces of his.
a short knock breaks you from your trance, the noise you’d been dreading all night.
sarah. bright-eyed and stupidly excitable nature, ready for your wedding day.
“woah,” she remarks, eyes darting around the room you’re just now realising you forgot to clean, “crazy night?” she smirks, eyeing the bottles and pens that had fallen from the desk to the floor.
“oh,” you smile, bile rising in your throat, “i’m just..” clambering for an excuse, “clumsy.”
she scoffs, dumping her bag on the unmade bed, “you don’t have to lie to me,” smile growing, “if you and mark wanna.. break traditions then i’m all for it.”
her wilful innocence makes you feel all the more worse. you’re supposed best friend was none the wiser, bouncing around with a proud smile, ready for your wedding day.
- eddie’s pov -
steve notices something’s up immediately.
dark rings accompanying eddie’s eyes after he had gone missing for hours last night.
“you good?” steve’s hand thwacks against his back, assuming eddie’s manner was all to do with the fact that you were getting married and not that only a few hours ago, he was telling you that he still loved you while you were having sex.
the ride to the venue is quiet, which everyone appreciates, having prepared for a litany of complaints and whining.
the church is even more extravagant than the hotel, resembling one of those castles he’d seen in a fairytale book.
he wants that to make him feel better, that at least he wasn’t the one wasting all of this money on a stupid wedding, but it doesn’t.
because irregardless of how much money you were spending, you were still marrying someone else.
sure, it wouldn’t be a particularly honest nor holy marriage but it’d be a marriage nonetheless. something he would never have with you. no matter how hard he tried.
they file into the pew, sitting slumped against the varnished wood as everyone chatters around him.
concerned heads fly around, the groomsmen rushing up the aisle as they’re beckoned by your bridesmaids.
eddie sits up, looking around at the frantic bridesmaids who were desperately trying to get the pastor’s attention. something’s wrong. he can feel it in his bones.
he throws up a quick two with his fingers to steve before sliding out of the pew, ducking his head down the aisle as he searches for you.
slipping past the worried wedding party, opening a multitude of doors in search of you. hoping that you’d at least made it to the church, that you were okay.
he doesn’t expect to find you in here, holding onto your mouth, mascara stains dripping down your cheeks, curled into the corner with your shoulders shaking. eddie slips in, shoving the broom in between the door handle, ensuring that no one else could find the pair of you.
you spend a moment, gazing into each other’s eyes until you squeak, “what’re you doing?” the most soul crushing tone that makes his heart ache.
“i came to find you,” he says, simply.
because he would, he’d do it in every life.
your palm smears the black stains around your cheek, scoffing at his words. “you shouldn’t have.. i’m fine,” trying to convince yourself more than you were him.
“you don’t look fine.”
your bottom lip trembles, threatening to spill over again. evoking a harsh stab of guilt through his chest. eddie surges toward you, placing his palms over yours, “you don’t have to do this.. we can leave right now,” he assures, searching your eyes. he’d whisk you away in a heartbeat, you didn’t even have to ask. just give him that look.
your nostrils flare, a wail constricted to the back of your throat, trying hard not to alert the hundreds of wedding guests sat just a couple hundred meters away. the dark light of the closet does well to accentuate your tearful eyes, his heart aching with every sniffle, every quietened sob that falls from your lips.
then, you growl, rather forcefully slapping his chest, “this is your fault,” fingers grabbing onto his suit jacket, “why couldn’t you just leave me alone?” frustration seeping out of your words.
eddie doesn’t have an answer, at least not one that would make you feel better.
so he stands in silence, letting you treat him like your verbal punching bag.
“i can’t do it,” you cry, burying your face into his neck, “i can’t.. marry him.”
he nods, stood just before you in this cramped closet, “you don’t have to,” assuredly grabbing your sodden cheeks, streaks of black stain his palms, “we can go.. anywhere you want, right now.”
promising the world because really, it was all he had to offer.
he wasn’t rich, hadn’t figured out how to get the fuck out of hawkins yet but he did know that he loves you and he’d do anything to prove that.
you swallow, averting your eyes to the sparkling ring on your hand, curled into the fabric of his jacket. “okay,” flicking back to his eyes, it’s so simple and yet it knocks the breath from his lungs.
nothing really registers, eddie had planned for more bargaining, certain that regardless of his pleas, you’d still end up walking down that aisle, promising yourself to another man.
“really?” he asks, clarifying for both himself and for you. there was still time for you to pull yourself together and go get married, he wasn’t going to deny you that.
“really,” you nod frantically, “i’ll go anywhere,” tugging at the collar of his shirt, “anywhere with you.”
174 notes · View notes
yuwuta · 4 hours
Note
hi 👋 bsf upstaging bf with choso???
ok i’ve gotten asks for pretty much every other jjk boy on this subject and i want to say something as an overarching theme: all of them ain’t shit. not a single one of them. there’s a scale, some (gojo) are worse than others, but in general, none of them really give a fuck, if that means upstaging, sabotaging, or straight up kicking your boyfriend to the curb so that they can be your boyfriend instead then so be it. but they’re not shit, NONE OF THEM!! but there is a hierarchy and different methods of execution and all that, so here’s where they stand 
president and ceo of not being shit: satoru gojo
why would satoru care about your boyfriend? in any and all universes, he is raised in a world where consequences mean nothing to him. so what if he’s a little rude to this guy? so what if he buys you a ridiculously expensive birthday gift that might be seen as romantic? so what if he offers to take you on a vacation that happens to overlap with your boyfriend’s birthday? the worst that will happen to satoru is nothing; the world bends to his whims, never the other way around.
it’s a combination of complete self-confidence + trust in you + getting joy out of bothering people that earns him this number one spot. he’s confident in every sense of the word, so he doesn’t see your boyfriend as a threat. even if satoru didn’t love you romantically, he wouldn’t see a boyfriend as a threat to your friendship either, because he has no doubts in himself—and to the second point, he doesn’t have any in you either: you’ve proven your loyalty to satoru, proven that even when he pisses you off, you still love him, even when you’re dating somebody else, you still make time for him, even when he’s being shitty and stubborn, you don’t kick him to the curb, you just pinch his ear and bring him back down to earth. he’s always chosen you, but you’ve always chosen him, too, so again, what’s to fear when a boyfriend is added to the equation? nothing, because satoru knows this guy can’t earn or replace the loyalty you’ve given him. 
and to top it all off, he likes watching your bf grind his teeth. he likes watching this guy have to hold his breath, because what can he say without sounding like an ass—he won’t ask you to tell satoru to fuck off because he hasn’t done anything wrong. treating your best friend to fancy dinners and exotic getaways and designer clothes is just nice when you have money—your bf would be pretty shitty to deny you that. and he’d sound insecure, too. and satoru knows your bf doesn’t have the balls to confront him, and even if he did he’d lose. it’d be embarrassing. so, satoru wins. he always wins. satoru engages in psychological warfare, and he has the physical strength, social power, and financial security to back it up, so he, literally, can never lose. and, sure, having your bf around is annoying, but it’s so much fun to watch other people lose that he lets the guy stick around for a while. you’ll get tired of him and run back to satoru eventually, and he’ll confess this time… hopefully.
vice president of not being shit: kento nanami
if you expected kento to be lower on this list, think again, because he is just as bad. he’s only second place because he’s not as overt, nor does he wish to actually taunt your boyfriend like satoru would. for kento, you’re just his number one priority. you always have been, ever since you came into his life; it was confusing at first, for him to care so much about you beyond an objective sense of responsibility, but overtime he came to realize that he way he wants to take care of you is different. he doesn’t just want to ensure your comfort and safety physically, he wants to make sure you’re taken care of emotionally, he wants to bear your burdens for you, not just help you through them.
kento is a good friend, a trusted confidant, a reliable person overall, and over the years, he’s inadvertently raised your standards. casual situationships and relationships where you’re not the priority become unappealing when you’ve had someone by your side for so long who’s treated you better than that. if your best friend can buy you flowers, and make reservations at new restaurants, and drive an hour to pick you up in the rain, and cook for you when you’re feeling sick, then why would you tolerate anything less in a romantic partner? these things are the bare minimum to kento, but most other men fall far below average; it’s hard for them to compete where they cannot compare. 
so when you do accept a partner, kento is skeptical at best. he knows that what he does for the people in his life isn’t necessarily special, but he doubts that your boyfriend is capable of doing even that—and even if he does meet the standards, he’ll be outclassed anyway. because kento is a good person, but he’ gotten really good at how to be good to you. your boyfriend might get you flowers, but kento already knows your favorites. your boyfriend might send chocolates, but he doesn’t know which ones you’re allergic to, and the brand you prefer; kento does, which is why the ones he bought for you are gone within the week, and the generic box sent over by your boyfriend was re-gifted to satoru. when you voice your doubts about a date your boyfriend mentioned wanting to plan, kento feigns interest, and then innocence when he asks if you’re busy a few days later, if you’d like to help him bake something instead—something he knows you’d much rather do. the short version is—kento knows you, and he uses it to his advantage. he uses the knowledge gained during your friendship to outclass anybody in your dating pool, and he does it so smoothly that it hardly seems intentional or harmful, but it is. which is why he’s just as bad, if not worse, than satoru. 
treasurer of being not shit: megumi fushiguro 
there’s actually no au in which megumi isn’t shit because no matter how you square it, he gets it from his daddy. whether he’s raised by just satoru, just toji, or some au where he has them both in his life—the common denominator is that they’re there. if megumi ever did confide in either of them about hating your boyfriend, both satoru and toji would offer the same advice: “can’t you just get rid of him? what’s he got on you?” which is absolutely not how you should parent a child...
megumi might have his doubts about his personality, but he’s never been insecure about his appearance. it’s hard to be when he looks like that, but also when he’s had either toji or satoru (or god forbid, both) in his ear his entire life. he might have some fucked up attachment issues and skepticisms about the general population, but he has a very secure view of himself. so, to start, he’s not impressed by your boyfriend, and is honestly a little offended that you think this guy is objectively more attractive, or that you’re more romantically/sexually attracted to him that you are to megumi—or even, any of your other friends. he’d rather you start dating nobara or yuuji, at least he could live with that because those are pretty people, but your choice in boyfriends… he’s not trying to be mean but you could do better. you’ve done better. 
secondly, megumi…. doesn’t care about him. at all. he’s not like satoru in that it brings him happiness to tease your boyfriend, he’s not like kento in that he skews your standards in his favor to nudge your boyfriend out of the picture; megumi literally does not care if this guy lives or dies. your boyfriend could drop dead and megumi would be like damn… that’s crazy… and move on with his life. which is a wild view to have of your best friend’s partner; and it also drives said partner to madness because why the fuck won’t your childhood friend acknowledge his existence?? but again, megumi doesn’t care that his apathy towards your boyfriend bothers him—megumi doesn’t see him, doesn’t know him, doesn’t care to know him, and it drives a wedge in your relationship. 
thirdly, megumi is, canonically, a bully to people he doesn’t like. if your boyfriend gets angered enough to the point of confronting megumi, or whining to you, then it’s inconsequential to megumi to hurt him, and he won’t hold back. also on the reverse side, if there was a situation in which your boyfriend was getting hurt or needed help, then megumi is not helping. megumi would probably just watch, or join in. 
after a while, megumi grows past apathy into exhaustion. he thinks you should do better, he thinks you should know better, he thinks he’s better. and he is. he’ll show you that. (also, he is most likely to try to seduce you into infidelity because he doesn’t care about your boyfriend, so you’re single to him). 
first secretary of not giving a fuck: yuuji itadori 
jealousy is something that yuuji used to feel guilty about, guilty enough to drive him to confiding in satoru/nanami about his feelings and seeking advice for how to deal with it, because he thought being jealous meant that he was being a bad friend to you. but neither of his mentors are shit, so yuuji learns to adopt the age old mantra: all is far in love and war. 
he’s better than satoru in the sense that he doesn’t antagonize your boyfriend, he’s better than kento in the sense that he doesn’t outwardly outclass your boyfriend’s efforts, he’s better than megumi in the sense that he does care about people outside of his immediate circle of friends, and as long as your boyfriend is a human, then yuuji will care about his life; but in all other senses, yuuji is surprisingly neutral, and in some cases, actually worse. 
yuuji has two things to his advantage that he absolutely abuses: his likability, and his strength. when it comes to likability, he can just play the friendly, nice guy card. wrapping his arm around your shoulder, twirling you around in a hug, pinching your cheeks, playing with your hair, laying on your lap—he’s just yuuji, he’s just being friendly, he’s just being nice. it’d be pretty shitty of your boyfriend to tell him to be meaner to you, no? ^.^ yuuji is also sneaky with this in that he uses it to say otherwise mean things under the guise of a friendly disguise, and people rarely think otherwise of it. (“it’s fine if you go to the club with us if your bf doesn’t want you to. it’s not like you’re gonna marry him” “aw man, are those boxes giving you trouble, man? not surprising, haha!” “you guys didn’t break up yet? aw... i mean... well, no i meant that, but come on, let’s take shots!” all said with a smile that looks like this 😇😇 on his face)
in terms of strength, it’s an unbeatable challenge for your boyfriend—because even if he gets pissed off at yuuji being too close to you, too affectionate with you, too sweet to you, what’s he gonna do? because he certainly can’t beat yuuji in a fight—he couldn’t even beat yuuji in a race, he couldn’t even beat yuuji at mario kart, so there’s nothing for your boyfriend to do but shutup and wallow.  
second secretary of not giving a fuck: yuuta okkotsu
does he need an explanation… does mr. “how rude, this is pure love” need an explanation… does mr. “i will kill itadori yuuji myself” need an explanation… does mr. “i won’t let sensei kill his best friend again, [i’ll do it myself]” need an explanation… hasn’t he already proved himself as the single most loyal and contently insane person on the planet… 
once you have yuuta’s loyalty, you have it forever. not even for life, because he’d find a way to transcend space and time to protect you in the next one. even if, for some reason, you didn’t want it anymore, you have it; yuuta’s love is final sale, no exchanges or returns. the only reason he’s not ranked to be worse than megumi or yuuji is because yuuta has one grave disadvantage: he is not normally confrontational, and is the definition of anxious LOL. he’d feel bad if he didn’t make an effort to get to know your boyfriend, but that doesn’t mean he has to like him... he can put up a front for you, though, if it means making you happy...
yuuta might know that he has feelings for you, but he’s honestly content with a platonic relationship if that’s how you choose to express it towards him. if you want to be friends, then he’s your friend; your love is that pure and vital to him, that he takes it in whatever form he gets it. he’s desperate for you in a way that has him completely at your whim; he doesn’t need reciprocity to love you, just knowing you, and knowing you accept his love is more than enough. keeping him around as friend, keeping him in your life, keeping him in your mind—that’s all yuuta could truly ever want. so, even when you have a boyfriend, it stings a bit at first, but as long as you still have the same amount of room in your life for yuuta, then he won’t do any harm to this guy. 
unless: (a) your boyfriend makes it difficult for yuuta to have access to you, (b) your boyfriend outrightly ticks yuuta off, or (c) the worst option, your boyfriend does something to hurt you or make you sad, then he’s off yuuta’s radar completely. he won’t confront, and he won’t intervene. but if any of those conditions are not met, even for a second, then your boyfriend is as good as gone and there’s little anyone, yourself included, can do to stop him. 
honorable board members: choso kamo, toji fushiguro, toge inumaki
everything about choso is on sight. it takes one wrong move, the slightest misstep, even a breath out of place and he will end your relationship and your boyfriend’s life if he has to. choso does not play when it comes to the people he loves, he won’t stand for you being hurt or mistreated in any way. there’s no subtle psychological warfare, there’s no shovel talk, there’s no blame game: choso sees something wrong, and he takes it upon himself to correct it. your partners have one chance to treat you right, or they’ll wish they hadn’t met choso to begin with.
toji doesn’t really chase people, but you have always been the exception. he hates to admit it, but he’ll follow you anywhere you go, not caring for whoever else you decide to bring along. if the journey of your life is a car ride, toji always calls shotgun, and he doesn’t really care who else gets in the backseat, until they ask him to get out of his—then there’s a problem. and he’s never once felt bad about turning some guy into a hitchhiker. 
the greater good should be thankful that toge takes a voluntary vow of silence, because if he said even half of the things that were on his mind, the world might, quite literally, be set on fire. toge doesn’t care—not like megumi, him not caring isn’t apathy towards the life or death of other people, he just doesn’t care what reaction his actions pull out of people. you’ve told him it’s annoying when he pinches your cheeks and steals your boba, but that won’t stop him from doing it, esp not when you look so cute when you’re angry. yeah, he knows people get annoyed by his pranks, but that’s whatever. he knows your boyfriend hates when toge’s around you, but he doesn’t care. if it brings toge joy, he’ll do it. honestly, even if it doesn’t bring him joy, he’ll do it because he wants to. he’s not immune to consequences like satoru, he simply doesn’t care about them! he’ll just deal with it, he’s got a high tolerance for it—your boyfriend, however, seems like a weakling, so toge will simply outlast him. he’s outlasted all the others :) 
75 notes · View notes
ohitslen · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
College (uni??) AU catering to my own interests as it should always be hehe :)
#projecting my major on Vash because them mfs who have changed from the med field majors to that one have some tragic things to tell#and also because I think that Vash would be such a wonderful designer I don’t know why it’s a gut feeling#Nai the law major because of course he would have you seen the guy#he would be a personal injury lawyer because lore#fun fact Nai rested for a semester after the incident with Vash while Vash took two.He never told Nai he would be changing majors#so it was a big big shock for him. they fought again but yk I’ll explain more on that if anyone is interested#as to Kni and WW I thought it’d be funny if they shared a common subject that required a lot of team assignments#and they can NEVER work out together. being an absolute nightmare to the rest of their group#separately they are great to work with. even if Kni can come off as too bossy sometimes he is actually a great leader#and WW would always deliver things on time exactly as it was asked from him#but Kni and WW just never really matched. Kni was too rude at times when WW made a mistake and WW would always clock him if he passed a line#like insulting his reasons for wanting to study security#one day Kni tells him at the beginning of a new semester where they both have unfortunately landed on a shared subject again#“you are not suited for that sort of job Wolfwood. you should simply give up and why don’t you go play role model to your little kids’’#then WW beats him again and then is like hey yk what you’re kinda right. and changed majors and he feels so much more at home studying#education/teaching than security. he fucking hates some things but the end goal makes it worthy#Trigun Uni! AU#because I don’t know how differently a college and a uni work#trigun#vash the stampede#nicholas d wolfwood#trigun stampede#vashwood#trigun fanart#wolfwood#vash#Nai saverem#millions knives#lenssi draws#pen!
467 notes · View notes
batgeance · 3 months
Text
the future (very future very far) potential for the absolute angst and resentment for a reevesverse d.ick grayson and j.ason todd to have with broose could be so powerful but also i’d be so leery about it too
8 notes · View notes
blueish-bird · 8 months
Text
got so caught up in the joy of music that I forgot being left-handed is particularly alienating and expensive when you’re trying to learn electric guitar/bass.
8 notes · View notes
deathxproof · 7 months
Text
Once more thinking about how Susan (“and what do you do?” “I eat”) Foreman probably learned about humans and how they work maybe like 5 years ago at best, and then suddenly being stranded on their planet and also immediately needing to learn not only how to irrevocably Be Human to anyone but this human husband she acquired, but also how to mother like. Fucking four little tiny baby infant humans at least.
And she does! She does so pretty well! She can even get over the fact that humans are scared little astroxenophobic assholes considering their main source of contact right now was an unending barrage of Daleks! It’s okay, because this is her life now, away from literally anyone else who’s ever known her her entire life, and even though she doesn’t have a choice she’s choosing all of this because it makes it better—
But she still likes that life— she likes that life a lot, so much so that she can ignore that eventually it’ll end, because Susan Foreman, not Arkytior, has built a nice little life for herself far away from any other Time Lords and anything they can touch. And it’s nice, but she’s also far away from any other Time Lords and anything they can touch, too. Until she’s Very Much Not and is thrust back into not only THE, HER two Time Lords, but one of them is directly responsible for her husband dying, and the other is inadvertently responsible for her son dying. But she has a TARDIS again now! Wow! And what perfect timing at that, considering her Grandfather is Gone again and the family she built is suddenly very much uneasy with the whole idea of, well, not their mom, but of Susan Foreman. She’s fully alien now, and that is harmful, that is toxic, that has gotten their dad and their youngest brother killed. And there are times she could go back to Gallifrey, but she’s lived off of Gallifrey for far longer than she ever lived underfoot of the planet. It’s not home. She barely even knows a handful of people there. She Cannot Catch A Fucking Break. She Cannot Keep A Home. She’s pretty convinced that if she tries to get too comfortable with anyone anywhere it will end horribly in some way or another. The fact that she’s held onto her TARDIS for so long makes Susan 4 & 5 wonder when it’s going to get ripped away from her too. It’s home, and you wouldn’t believe it based on the setup, but you can bet she won’t get comfortable.
3 notes · View notes
oathofkaslana · 6 months
Text
sara is actively wrong and is heavily flawed btw and that’s why i love her <3 i want her to quit her job <3
3 notes · View notes
nick-close · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I love doing gender bends I love redesigning them based on the differences they’d have I love imagining how they’d chanGE-
13 notes · View notes
akkivee · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
look how fluffy sakakihara-san’s jacket is i want one so bad 😭😭😭😭
14 notes · View notes
glittertimes · 6 months
Text
As a 24 year old I’m kind of over drinking culture. The last time I really drank it took me a week to recover from it loll, I’ve been getting really dizzy since a covid infection 2 years ago, and I had a really bad flare-up a month ago after celebrating a friends birthday.
But even before that I drank pretty minimally and I didn’t like how my friends put the responsibility of caring for them on me when they put themselves in harmful situations. I’m always going to be there for my friends, but it takes a toll caring for people and watching them not have that same care for themselves.
And then it’s funny and normalized when people drink all the time.
#this is not meant to shame anyone with addictions or to say that I’m morally better than anyone#a couple of months ago my friend from hs who moved away a couple years e was visiting and she insisted we go to a club lol#it was my first time at a club since I turned 21 the month after Covid lockdown started loll!#and it was fun not caring about the people around me and just being silly and dancing while tipsy#but also the guys were creepy which I expected but it was weirder than I thought it’d be loll#like one guy who would just jump out at you while you were leaving the dance floor and tried to hug you and buy you a drink#he also found me again later and kept trying to get my Instagram loll but it’s that vibe you get around.#cishet men when you know they don’t like you as a person they just want to get any woman (even though I’m non-binary)#and I never feel bad saying no to guys like that loll plus I have a partner but even if I didn’t it still be a no lmao#and then another guy tried to pour his beer into my friend’s drink as I was carrying it back to the table for her from the bar#and it was so weird and gross like why would I want you to do that?!?#anyways my conclusion is being tipsy and silly with your friends can be fun!#but the culture around alcohol enables so many harmful behaviors and makes ppl unsafe! esp women queer and trans ppl and poc!#I also had to walk my partner home one time bc they drank so much and got so depressed they almost tried to hurt themselves#and I couldn’t leave them alone bc I was worried they’d try something again#just haven’t had great experiences and I’m one of the ‘lucky’ ones for not experiencing anything worse!#personal
1 note · View note
fyeahkaimelia · 1 year
Text
ellen pompeo’s plastic surgery this season was honestly so good, she still looks like herself but without the loose skin on her jawline and it even kinda hid her scar even better
2 notes · View notes
Text
I think there should be a forum for children whos parents had ADHD. My dad likely had it and was abusive. He’s not professionally diagnosed but I’m like PRETTY sure he’s got it because he was very forgetful and talked a lot about classic rock so I’m gonna assume he’s got it and that all his behavior is a result of it. Also even though ADHD is often hereditary obviously people with ADHD will not be allowed to comment because it makes you homophobic (because my dad was, so obviously,)
4 notes · View notes
filmcel · 18 days
Text
i’m the fool for thinking this guy is scared of me bc he likes me no he’s scared of me bc he could b my dad =_=
#that’s a huge exaggeration he could not b my dad at all.#i just thot it’d b funny to say that sorry sorry#captain’s log#I wanna b so positive about it and then i remember and then i’m like wel fuck who cares and then i’m like I CARE#anyway uhhhh. i think this will continue until it becomes a real problem for me#aka my friends murder me#whatever . yolo ! Hehehehe!#i do enjoy having that feeling that a guy is more scared of me that i’m scared of him#but also…. why is he scared is probably not a good reason#by probably i mean definitely#anyway um …. yeah im scared of him actually that’s just not true at all to say i’m not#but!……he’s still more of me. so that’s a win for me regardless#hes scared i can’t tell when he’s joking#BUDDY THATS U THATS LITERALLY UUUUUUU#HE GETS SCARED EACH TIME I JOKE ABOUT ANYTHING#BUDDY ITS OKAYYYYY!!!!!!!#it’s actually scary talking to him KNOWING the TRUTH.#i think i might be leading him on#i SHOULD b leading him to jump off a fucking cliff tbh! … byeee!!!!#tbh my issue is . i love talking i love guys. i love being a silly freak.#but guys aren’t attracted to me so i don’t usually get to that point#this rare instance is one that’s fucked for me . except i still wanna be silly and fun and etc.#bc it makes me happy bc i love attention and i love making guys uncomfortable#someone dissect my brain should i retire#fuck this guy i need a silly baka who understands my jokes….🚬#What’s wrong w having a guy u occasionally text can’t i have my own personal mystic messenger#Like genuinely!#my friend keeps saying we r ‘talking’ and i understand what she’s implying#but i talk to many ppl and it’s not much different than this#just bc HE likes me doesn’t mean we r ‘talking’
1 note · View note
exopelagic · 3 months
Text
okay I’m cured
0 notes
bonewreath · 2 months
Text
in which ellie shows you exactly who you belong to.
18+ minors dni!
Tumblr media
You and Ellie aren’t together. 
You’re not a couple. You’d both agreed to keep things casual. You’re just roommates who mess around sometimes; simple as that. 
So why do you feel so guilty for going on a date with someone else?
You’re dressed and ready, adding the final touches to your makeup in the mirror, and you should be feeling excited - your date is a total dreamboat. Perfect on paper and so, so hot. But instead of that giddy, fluttery feeling in your stomach, all you feel is guilt. 
You and Ellie aren’t together, you keep reminding yourself. You repeat it like a mantra in your head. There’s nothing wrong with going on a date, right? Because you’re single… Right?
On your way out, you run into Ellie, because of course you do. She’s sprawled out on the couch, head propped on a pillow, playing her Switch with a determined look on her face. Your stomach clenches when you see her. She looks up when she hears you walk to the front door, her eyes following you as you slip into your shoes. 
“You look nice,” Ellie says from the couch. You look over and see that she’s paused her game; she’s sitting up and drinking in the sight of you, eyes lingering over your frame. You pretend not to notice. 
“Thank you, Ellie.” You grin and look down at your outfit, palms smoothing over the fabric of your skirt. You do look nice. 
“Where are you going?” 
Your cheeks go hot at the question, and your first instinct is to lie - to tell Ellie that you’re going to see a friend. Just catching up with someone from college over dinner. But it’d be stupid to lie - you’re single. You’re allowed to go out.
“I’m, um, going on a date.”
You don’t look at her when you say it - you know you’d feel guilty, even if the two of you are just friends with benefits. Or… Roommates with benefits?
“Oh,” Ellie says, as you busy yourself picking off nonexistent lint from your shirt. Anything to avoid her gaze. “Okay. Have fun, then.”
There’s no bitterness in her voice, which you had expected. You glance at her face, and she’s back to that determined expression, focused on her Switch again. 
You clear your throat. “Thanks. I’ll, um… See you later.” 
Naturally, you spend the entire date thinking about Ellie. Her eyes, green and dotted with flecks of brown. Her hair, which falls in her face just right. Her mouth, and the way it feels against the supple flesh of your throat, Ellie’s lips soft and wet as she trails kisses down your neck. 
And her hands - her strong hands. You can almost feel them on your hips, on your chest, between your legs. 
God, this date was a mistake.  
Still, you have the common decency to see it through. You pretend to be interested in your date’s job, their hobbies, their five year plan. They drone on for hours, only asking you a few pointed questions about yourself, and when the dinner’s finally over and they’ve signed the check, you’re itching to leave.
Not long after you’ve made it back home, you’re face-down on Ellie’s bed, moaning into the mattress as her tongue circles your clit. 
She’d asked you about your date between heated kisses, her lips flushed and swollen. You hadn’t given her much details aside from it was boring and I just wanted to come home and do this. That seemed to give Ellie some sort of complex, because now, as she pumps her fingers into your cunt with one hand and lands a stinging smack on your ass with the other, she pulls back from mouthing at your clit to rasp, “That’s it, moan for me.” 
And she’s always been talkative in bed, all slurred curses and dirty comments, but there’s something different this time. You arch your back deeper, giving her more access to pound her fingers into you, and she groans in approval. 
“Good fucking girl,” she breathes, using her free hand to dig her blunt nails into the flesh of your ass. She gives it another spank for good measure. “Wanna tell me whose pussy this is?”
There it is - something she’s never said before. You can feel yourself getting wetter, tightening around her fingers as your hips involuntarily push backwards against her palm. You forget to respond entirely, every thought in your head smooth and shapeless, disappearing as quickly as it came. But Ellie won’t let you off so easily. 
“Flip over,” she orders, the rasp in her voice sending a thrill up your spine. You obey wordlessly, and when you’re on your back, you see it: a possessive glint in her gaze, a sharp edge to her expression. You gush impossibly wetter, cunt clenching around nothing - the absence of Ellie’s fingers makes you want to sob. 
“Ellie,” you whisper, brows knitting together. Her gaze softens. “Please make me come.”
A smile tugs at her lips and she nods, her palm rubbing over your stomach in soothing circles. 
“I will, princess,” she assures you, “but I need you to tell me who you belong to. Think you might’ve forgotten.”
Guilt twists in your gut. “You, Ellie.” 
“What about me?”
There’s a challenge in the teasing lilt of her voice. You swallow. “I… Belong to you.”
“Mm, that’s right.” Ellie’s hands travel upward from your abdomen to your chest, closing around each of your tits. You suck in a shaky breath when her thumbs stroke over your pert nipples, making them draw even more taut. “These are mine?”
“Yours,” you gasp, chest rising and falling quickly. Ellie’s bangs fall in her eyes as she leans over to suck a nipple into her mouth, tongue swirling over the bud until you go cross-eyed, hips canting upward. She repeats the same torture with your other breast, leaving both of your nipples swollen and sensitive. 
“What about this?” Ellie asks when she pulls back, her hand moving to the heat between your legs. You whine, a desperate, pathetic little sound that makes Ellie want to eat you whole. 
“Yours, Ellie, it’s yours,” you say, voice betraying how needy you are. She dips a finger into your wetness, your folds silky with arousal, and you almost miss the way her eyes flicker back into her skull for a moment. She’s enjoying this just as much as you are. 
“This is mine?” She drags her fingers up to your clit, drawing torturously wide circles around it - close, but not close enough. You could start crying right there. You nod, frantic.
Ellie clicks her tongue, tuts in disapproval. “No, baby, I need to hear you say it. Whose pussy is this?”
And it’s not so hard to admit - Ellie’s had you under her spell long before you went on that stupid date tonight. You realize it now, cheeks warming at the obscene sounds of Ellie’s fingers playing in your cunt, unable to look her in the eye without squirming. 
“My pussy’s yours,” you pant, “s’all yours. Nobody fucks me like you, Els.” 
You’re pushing your hips towards her touch, your tits in your own hands now, pulling at your nipples like it’ll relieve the growing need in your belly. Ellie eyes you with half-lidded eyes, lust heavy in her gaze, and it’s like you can see the remnants of her resolve break. She sinks between your legs and finally, finally laps at your desperate cunt, drinking in the taste of you as you whine and writhe above her. 
When you come, it’s with Ellie’s name on your lips. And you know it’s true - you’re entirely hers.
2K notes · View notes
muggysluggy · 1 year
Text
detached and pried from my surroundings in the name of care, coddling an overgrown child resistant to comfort. fighting off your attempts of support and sympathy, rejecting health in trade for safety from my own hands. wasting kindness on someone so undeserving, succumbing to dissociation and awakening to the crumbs of a purposefully avoided meal. filling a mind with tasks preoccupied by tempting bottles. why do you fight so hard to protect the body that never kept us safe.
0 notes