#i would bully him if i met him irl

[msgexymunson]

Highest Bidder

Description: When you get Eddie to agree to be on auction for the Valentine’s Ball, you don't count on jealousy affecting you this much. To be fair, you didn’t think Chrissy Cunningham would be there. But maybe, just maybe, he likes you just as much as you like him? 

Warnings: Angst, fluff and smut, my favourite horsemen. NSFW, Minors DNI or I'll shoot you with arrows and not the cupid kind. Slight older, 25 ish Eddie Munson x 23 ish fem reader, confessions, BFFs to lovers, oral fem receiving, p in v unprotected sex (dress before you impress irl) 

A/N: So this was meant for Valentines but I decided to catch Covid instead. Inspired by the auction scene in Groundhog Day. I loved writing this, hopefully you get the desperate pining feeling that I was trying to give off. I love all of you, not only on Valentines but every day. 

Comments and reblogs keep this little paper heart from bursting Into flames. Please, comment and reblog, it makes me so happy you don't even know. 

7k words

Masterlist

“So sweetheart,” Eddie begins, a sly smile creeping over his face as he steeples his hands in front of him, elbows on his knees, “are you gonna tell me why you did it?” He's sitting across from you in his armchair, like this is some sort of bizarre job interview. 

The surroundings are familiar. Eddie's second hand couch, the worn fabric soft under your thighs. The coffee table you helped drag up four flights of stairs, adorned with a coaster placed entirely for your benefit, of course. It's not like Eddie cares about water rings. The comforting smell of the fabric softener Eddie uses intermingled with cigarettes, and incense to cover the smoky aroma. That, and Eddie's aftershave; faint after a night in proximity of it, but there all the same. 

The situation is not familiar. The wayward glances, the lingering touches, the tension filling the air so thick it's like trying to move through cake batter. Wading through some dense, sweet, all consuming feeling that sticks to your ribs and pulls you into its gravity.

Torn between looking at him and shyly stirring your drink with its straw, you think about it. Why did you? The answer wasn't simple. It never was, with Eddie.

It all started with the Valentines Charity Ball your mom roped you into helping to organise. She was a force to be reckoned with, your mom. The human equivalent of a wrecking ball. When she got involved with any good cause, no one and nothing could stop her. Including you. 

So, when she ran to you in desperation last night, you didn't hesitate. One of the guys for the date auction had taken ill and she was stuck for a fourth. So, the first name you could think of spilled out of your mouth. It took some convincing. No, he's not just some freak. Yes, he's doing well for himself. Yes, he's got a steady job, an apartment. No, he doesn't deal anymore. Yes, he's good looking, obviously. No, we aren't a thing, we were never a thing. 

You were never a thing. It was much more complex than that. Affairs of the heart always were. When you'd met Eddie at school you were quiet. A loser, living on the fringes of obscurity; not popular, but not strange enough to be bullied. Eddie was safe. A shield. You'd entered Hellfire without a second thought. And sure, he was handsome, ridiculously so. But at the time, he was seeing some twig called Stacey or Samantha or something, and you bit down on your attraction. Hid it deep within the tissue of your heart. Swallowed it whole. Then, you'd dated Thomas, and after that, he had seen Wendy, and then it was circumstantial. At no point had the pair of you been single together until recently, so it clearly wasn't meant to be. Whatever attraction you'd been harbouring was mellowed, dissolved and disintegrated in yourself. After that, he was just Eddie. 

Convincing Eddie to do the auction had been an entirely different story. It wasn't nerves. He had stood on tables in the cafeteria to speak his mind, after all. He had conveyed his innermost thoughts to almost any who would listen, like some wayward preacher at a bizarre sermon. It could never be nerves, not with him. It was always the fear of not being enough. The fear of himself. After many words of encouragement, he'd agreed. If only to shut you up, but it worked. 

What you hadn't accounted for was the sight of Eddie climbing out of his beat up van in a goddamn button up shirt and fucking dress shoes. In jeans that weren't ripped, with wild hair scooped back into a low bun. You hadn't counted on the easy smile you'd seen a thousand times now winding into your stomach and sending raven wing beats into your heart. In the soft wink that loosed a thousand moths within your core. Moths, they say, live at most, a day, but these seem ancient compared. Alive in an enclosure you had created years ago, set loose suddenly and all at once, their once fixated caretaker ignoring his responsibilities. 

“Hey sweetheart, am I late?” 

When had his voice gained that huskiness, that depth? When had looking into his chocolate brown eyes melted your insides? A twinge in your back brought on by the stress of the night took you back to the here and now. Gazing back at him whilst you attempted to rub it away, you replied.

“N-no, not at all. You, you look really good, Eddie.” 

He scoffed aloud, shaking his head in disbelief, a cascade of loose curls flowing around his face. 

“That's a load of crap. You, hey, you look amazing. Seriously, smoking hot.” 

Your head span with the compliment, as you looked down at your own outfit. It was a ball after all, and for once your mom had insisted on a dress. It was a deep red, cheap satin, low cut, a tasteful hem at the knee, with a slit up the side providing at least a little mobility, and kitten heels. Currently, you felt like an outsider looking into a different world through plexiglass, but the way Eddie looked at you made you feel like you belonged. 

‘It's nothing, just a dress.” 

“Hey,” he replied, crowding your space with the confidence he embodies, “you look incredible. Trust me.”

His knuckles dragged across your flushed cheek, and for a moment all sense of who you were and why this was happening was lost to the feel of his skin on yours. But only for a moment. Dipping your eyes down, you took a tiny step back. 

“We should head inside Eddie. You ready?” 

After a couple of hours of cheesy music and weak as fuck punch, you tapped your fingers on your plastic cup and turned down the latest pensioner who thought you were here for his amusement. Until finally, the host tapped the microphone and asked everyone to gather at the front for the main event. You made your way to the side of the stage in case you were needed, and waited for the bidding to start. 

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, we have the highlight of the night. For one night only, Hawkins’s most eligible bachelors will be yours, to an extent. Be prepared to be wined, dined, and entertained, by our finest gentlemen, all in the name of charity, of course. And first up, is our very own George Heights! Give it up for George everyone!” 

The crowd clapped as George walked onto the stage, an early balding man with just the hint of a pot belly poking through his chequered blue shirt.  

“George is an artist, and an aspiring architect, with a penchant for poetry and an insatiable appetite. Give it up for George, everybody!”

After a lukewarm auction, which ended with George being bought for 65 bucks, the next one was sold. And the next one. Pretty soon, it was Eddie's turn. He stepped forward, and whispers began to float around you. You expected that, to some extent, but there were woops, and even a wolf whistle too. Ever the showman, he bent into a low bow, straightened back up, and winked at the audience. 

“And last, but not least, we have a handsome young man up for your bidding pleasure. Put your hands together for Eddie!” 

As he did a turn on the spot, hands outstretched, the rouse of applause went on for longer than you thought it would. Enthusiastic hands clapped for your man.

No. Your friend. Just a friend. 

“That's it, that's what we're looking for! Eddie is a mechanic, and a talented guitarist, who is looking for your company tonight! So, starting bid, can I hear twenty dollars?” 

“Here! Twenty dollars!” An old lady waved her programme enthusiastically in the air. Eddie's eyes rolled and caught yours momentarily, and you flashed a smile at him. 

“There we go, twenty! Can we go to twenty five?” 

“Thirty!” an equally old lady shouted, earning you yet another look from him that made you laugh. 

“Fifty dollars!” 

The crowd went silent as a man in the back shot his hand in the air. 

“Woah, a high bidder! Anyone want to beat fifty?” 

Before the crowd had a chance to recuperate a young and extremely pretty woman's hand shot upward. 

“One hundred dollars!” 

Everyone fell silent. The only thing not getting the message was your heartbeat. The beautifully manicured and delicate hand belonged to none other than Chrissy fucking Cunningham. 

She looked more beautiful than ever. Hawkins’s sweetheart, all grown up. The popular girl, the pretty girl. Prettier than you, at least to your mind. Prom queen, beauty pageant winner, and the icing on the cake? Actually a nice person. No one could hate her, it would be like kicking a kitten. 

But as your heart dropped like a lead weight into your chest, you thought you wouldn't mind seeing a bit of fur flying across the room, guided by your heels. 

You saw it, you couldn't fail to. The sudden way Eddie stood a little straighter, chest puffed up a little more, as a slow smirk crawled over his face. 

“One hundred? Wowee! Thank you young lady! Anyone for one twenty?” 

The man at the back called out, “right here!” 

Chrissy giggled, small hand held up covering the cute noise, and made another bid. 

“One thirty!” 

It seemed like the entirety of your body's blood had rushed to your head. You felt dizzy and sick, watching this happen, like some slow motion car crash. Again, your damned back hurt. you rubbed it in vain, and gazed back at the ruin in front of you.  

“One fifty!” The man at the back bellowed. Eddie's eyes widened, and he put his hands together, as if in prayer. His gaze was begging, pleading, and directed at Chrissy. 

The frozen spell you seemed to have been under lifted suddenly. This was not going to happen, you wouldn't let it. Chrissy had everything she could possibly need, she didn't need more. She couldn't have him. 

He's yours. 

Through watery eyes, you fiercely trawled through your purse, and came across the little envelope you tucked in there earlier. The money you had scraped together to go towards buying a car. You'd almost forgotten it, intending to drop it home before you came here. 

It looked like you'd have to be a pedestrian for a while longer. 

At the same time Chrissy placed delicate fingers in the air, your whole arm shot up, purse clutched in hand. 

“Two hundred and fifty two dollars and thirty nine cents!” 

Gasps and grunts from the crowd echoed throughout the hall as everyone turned to face you. Even Eddie's jaw hit the floor. It took a moment for it to register, but when it did people were cheering. 

“Well, I think that wraps it up folks! The highest bid of the night, sold to the very eager young lady in red right over here! What a great donation!”

He continued talking, wrapping up the show, and signalled for the music to start once again. Blood was hammering in your ears, making you almost oblivious to everyone around you. All you could focus on in your tunnel vision was Eddie as he walked to the edge of the stage, climbed off in a smooth hop, and started sauntering toward you. 

“You know, if you wanted me that badly you could have just asked, sweetheart.” He said, as he flashed you a smug grin. 

“Hey, I was just saving you from that guy over there, pretty sure he wanted more than a date.” Your words came out calmer than you thought you were capable of as you clenched a fist at your side to hide your shakes. 

“Oh, really?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest, “That's what you were saving me from, huh?” 

He knew it was a lie. You knew it was a lie. You're pretty sure the entire hall knew it was a lie. 

“Of course, don't want some old geezer putting his hands all over you. Not a fun Valentines. Plus, I own you now. You've gotta do what I say.” 

Your hands dropped to your hips, holding them as you smiled at him. 

“Kinky,” he replied, stepping closer, making you falter in your confident stance as you’re forced to look up at him, “so, what are your orders, princess?” 

“Can you, get me a drink. A proper drink, from the bar? Please?” 

Taking your hand in both of his, he brought it up to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to it that turned your insides upside down. 

“Easy. Your wish is my command. Jack and Coke, right?” 

Gormlessly nodding, all you managed to say was a stunted “uh huh.”

He flashed that grin again, and bounced off with more of a spring in his step than usual. 

You turned on your heel, begging yourself to get your head together, and busied yourself with gathering the donations for the auction, including your hefty one, and passed the cash to your mom to be locked away. When you approached, she opened her mouth but you wildly waved a finger at her. 

“I know, I don't want to hear it. Not right now.” 

She smiled, and just said, “pretty sure you could have got that date for free.” 

Rolling your eyes and simultaneously rubbing your back, you passed over the cash and turned quickly, nearly slamming into someone. 

“Easy princess, I know you bought me but I won't stand for full on tackling.” 

He was holding your drink high, arms up to protect it.

“Sorry Eds, just escaping from-” 

You looked over your shoulder, but your mom had disappeared. 

“-nevermind. Thank you.” 

As you grabbed your drink you took a generous gulp in a vain attempt to steady your nerves. 

“So, now you have me, what are you gonna do to me?” 

As he guided a wolfish grin to you, you simply rolled your eyes, trying to hide the fact that several unsavoury thoughts were swimming through your mind. 

“What if I told you to hop on one leg and bark like a dog, huh?” You replied, sending a grin right back. 

“Oh you don't think I would? Don't test me princess.” 

You simply folded your arms and cocked your head, daring him with a look. Eddie nodded, and started fucking bouncing on one leg. 

“Woof! Woo-” 

“OK OK stop you weirdo!” Gasping a laugh, you grabbed him by the crook of his elbow and dragged him away from the curious stares of those around you. 

As the song changed to a slow ballad, Eddie whipped the drink from your hand despite your protests and placed it on a nearby table. 

“What are you doing?” 

Grasping your hand he escorted you to the middle of the dance floor and suddenly pulled you so close that the air expelled from your lungs. There was no air, just music, and feeling, and Eddie. 

“I'm dancing with you. Isn't this what you do on dates?” 

As he held your hips, thumbs rubbing into your sides, your mind cleared. Like a bubble of smoke had popped. This felt good. This felt right. You circled his neck within your arms and relaxed for the first time that evening.  

“This isn't a date, Eds.” 

Your words held some spite, but it was belied by the smirk tugging at your cheeks. 

“You are right. This isn't a date. If it was, well, we wouldn't be surrounded by geriatrics.” he nodded at the crowd around you, eliciting a high pitched giggle from your chest. 

As you swayed in step with him, gazing into his chocolate eyes, the smirk only grew, fuelled by the mischief in his eyes. 

“So, if this was a date, what would we be doing instead?” 

A part of you wants to feel bashful and turn away, but the spell his eyes have you under is in control. No force on earth could tear your gaze asunder. The couples around you could burst into flames and be chalked up to little more than background noise. 

“Well, first, I would have picked you up at your house, bought you some flowers too,” he said as he brought his hand to yours, holding it and pushing you into his frame even more, so you strained your neck up to him. His breath fanned delicately against your ear as he continued his explanation. 

“Probably took you to a fancy restaurant, with fabric napkins,” he said, making you giggle at his understanding of ‘fancy’, “would have paid too. Maybe had some wine. Shared a dessert.” 

“Yeah?” You nearly whisper it, words falling into the exposed skin of his neck. 

“Yeah. Then, I would have taken you back to my place, offered you a cup of coffee,” suddenly he spun you, pressing his lithe front to your waiting back, his fingers scooping the hair from your neck sending comet trails of sensation down your spine. He continued, words making your head dizzy, “Then, I would kiss you, properly. Like you deserve to be kissed.” 

As he spun you back to face him, you held his gaze for a moment, seeing every ounce of honesty etched into those big brown eyes. 

“Eddie?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Let's get out of here.” 

You shake your head, bringing yourself back to the here and now. Here you sit, opposite Eddie, invaded by his scent, debating whether or not to just tell the truth and hang the consequences. 

Taking a gulp of your drink, you set it back down and look Eddie in the eye. 

“Listen, I'm gonna be honest. I saw the way you looked at Chrissy and I… I was jealous. I didn't think, I just kinda acted. I'm sorry if it was weird.” 

Bravery fleeing your bones leaving behind an airy wobble, you look at your own lap, fingers twisting over and over. You're only slightly aware of the shuffle and rustle of Eddie rising to his feet, of footsteps, of the dip in the couch next to you. Then, Eddie's large hand comes to rest over both of yours. 

“Do you know why, sweetheart? Why were you jealous?” 

His hand is steady, fingers stilling your movements confidently, but there's a quaver to his voice that seems entirely unlike him. Grasping his fingers, you absentmindedly play with his heavy rings. 

“I feel stupid. I've had… kind of a crush on you, since high school.”

Of all the reactions, you hadn't expected a deep laugh to reverberate from his chest. Recoiling in horror, you shift your hands away from his and move to stand, your only thought to run, flee. 

“No no no, please, sit,” he asks, hands grasping at your waist to keep you there, as you rub at the twinge in your back again. 

“Turn around,” he says, and you don't find it in you to disobey. Firm hands stroke softly down your back, “you've been rubbing your back all night. Right here?” 

Fingertips circle the spot that's been aching and you nod, confused.

“Eddie, if this is a rejection, it's a really odd one- oh fuck, right there.” 

He chuckles lowly, knuckles working at the knot near your spine. 

“It's not, it's really not. You're in pain, and I know you'd never ask. Plus, I, ha, don't have the balls to say this to your face.” 

You don't say anything in response, you can't. Of course he's noticed you're in pain, he always notices stuff like that. The fact that this isn't a rejection though? It has your head reeling with so many thoughts that you can't express the words. Eddie clears his throat, hands rubbing into your skin through your dress, easing some of the building anxiety. 

“I've got a secret. I've- had a crush, on you, since middle school.” 

“Shut up!” You gasp, mouth hanging open at his confession. 

“Absolutely not.” 

“You didn't even know me in middle school Eds.”

“Yeah I did. Well, sorta. You remember that day I ran into the library? I asked for help?” 

You pick at the scab of a memory, itching it to the forefront of your brain. 

“Oh yeah, you were running from that idiot... Johnny?”

“Jimmy Salinsky. He was gonna beat on me. You, you didn't hesitate. You didn't even know me, but you told me to hide under your chair, you even threw your coat over your lap to hide me.” 

“What else would I do?” 

He snorted derisively, continuing his impromptu massage, “ignore me, tell me to fuck off, just like anybody else. But you, no, you didn't. Jimmy ran in looking for me and you didn't even lie! He asked if a freak had run in and you-” 

“-I said ‘the only freak in here is you’, I remember.” 

“That's right!” He laughs, squeezing your hips appreciatively, “Then he asked if you'd seen the poor kid, Eddie. You said, ‘I've never even met an Eddie’, which was true too. Not like I introduced myself before I dived under your chair. I remember crouching there, trying not to laugh, watching your little legs swinging. You had odd socks on, and you smelled really good. Anyway, I crushed on you hard.” 

Head buzzing over his words, you try to organise your thoughts. 

“Did the guys- did Hellfire know?” 

“Sweetheart, I'm surprised you didn't know, it was common knowledge. I just thought you never liked me like that.” 

Turning to face him again, you stroke hesitant fingers over his knee. 

“Didn't say anything, you were seeing Stacey.” Eddie's face screws in confusion until clarity rings like a bell in his mind. 

“Her? I wasn’t- that wasn't a relationship. I would have stopped in a fucking heartbeat if I'd known.” 

“Oh. I dated Tom to get over you.” 

“I dated Wendy to get over you!” 

Sharing a laugh, you both hold eye contact, giggles dying at the realisation of what this means. 

“So, Eddie, about that kiss…” you inch forward, ever so slightly nearer to him. A pink tongue darts out of his mouth, wetting his bottom lip. 

“Yeah, that. That was me, running my mouth,” he says, anxiety wracking his voice as he strokes his neck compulsively, “Not that I don't want to kiss you, I do, just, erm, don't expect fireworks?” 

It's almost like he's back at middle school, the nerves radiating off of him. Smiling sweetly, you take his hand and place it on your jaw, leaning into its touch. The breath he exudes is shaky as he moves closer, eyes darting to your lips as yours flutter shut. 

It's tentative; a brush of his mouth as if he's scared of you running, of some practical joke. When you make no move to pull away his thumb strokes your cheek, lips now moving more confidently against yours. Your heartbeat is echoing inside your head as your hand slips to slither down his chest and around him, circling his side. 

Only then does his tongue slowly snake out to wet your bottom lip; a silent plea which you happily grant. Still, it's delicate, tongues moving leisurely against one another as if you have all the time in the world. It's by no means dispassionate; far from it, it may be the most emotionally  charged kiss of your life, but it feels like he's holding back. 

So, you pull him closer by the front of his shirt, flicking your leg over his knee as your fingers tug hard. It's then that his tongue licks into you in earnest, thick and smooth, filling your insides with need. Just when you feel utterly consumed, whining inside his mouth, he breaks away. After a few pecks to your lips, he presses his forehead to yours, breath uneven, cooling your swollen lips. 

“I'm in love with you.” 

It comes out of his mouth in a rush. All you can do is stare gormlessly. 

“Huh?” 

“I love you. I just needed you to know that. This isn't just a- a thing. I'm in love with you, I have been since forever. I know it's a lot to take in, and I don't expect you to say it back I just need you to-”

You shut him up, pressing a hard kiss to his parted lips.

“Eddie, you lied.” 

“What? I'm telling the truth I-”

“You said don't expect fireworks. You were wrong.” 

Wasting no more time, you force your body onto him, tongue clashing against his teeth as the force of your kiss presses him backwards. His head makes contact with the arm of the couch, hands hot and heavy on your hips, pushing you into his bulge. 

The fabric of your dress is constricting your movements, making you huff into his mouth. 

“Eddie,” you manage in between spit slicked kisses, “unzip me.” 

There's a cross between a grunt and a moan that vibrates from him into you as his hand wanders across your back, groping its way to the zipper. In a few short bursts he manages to unzip it, not once breaking the kiss. 

Cool air hits your skin and you stand up, shimmying the dress to the floor and you straddle him moving in for- 

“Woah, slow down a second, just, just wait.” 

You try to kiss him again but he pushes you back, your ass flush against his crotch as you sit up. His gaze is scrutinising, examining every inch of your form, making you feel more exposed than you've ever felt in your life. 

The desperate urge to shy away works into your arms as you cross them over your chest, but Eddie's having none of it. He tugs at them gently, pulling them to your sides as his thumbs rub encouragement into your skin. 

“Sweetheart, there's a thirteen year old boy doing backflips in my head. Let him have a moment.” 

A little laugh you let out comes out as a snort whilst he gazes up at you in wonder. So, you give him a show, flicking your bra undone in one practised movement and sliding the straps down your arms, eventually letting it fall to the floor. 

“Jesus H Christ and all the angels.” He breathes, grip tightening on your forearms. 

A quivering hand reaches up, and to your surprise, cups your face. 

“You are so beautiful.” 

Eyes suddenly watering, you blink twice to will the onslaught of emotion away. 

“Not like Chrissy though,” you shrug, eyes downturned. 

“No, you're not like her. You're beautiful, like you.” 

Tugging you forward, he pulls you in for a breathtaking kiss, the full force of his feelings overflowing and filling your heart with heat. With a nibble to your bottom lip, he lets up for a second. 

“Can we go to my bedroom?” 

Nodding, you clamber off him and stand up. Eddie just makes a noise like you knocked the wind out of him, holding his hand to his heart. 

“What?” You ask, hands on your hips, like it was normal to be standing in front of him in just a pair of panties. 

“Don't look all stern like that, or I'm gonna bust in my pants,” he jokes, standing and crowding your back. 

The journey to the bedroom takes a while. Mostly because you can't keep your hands off of each other. He's grinning, giddy as a school boy, firm hands pressing into your sides, hips, ass. You respond in kind, nearly ripping his shirt in your efforts to remove it, only managing to unbutton the offensive material to expose his lean tattooed torso. 

Eventually, your spine hits Eddie's mattress, the soft furnishing welcoming you, begging you to sink in further. His touches are soft too, almost reverent in their delivery. He stands to remove his shirt and jeans, bulge prominent in his black trunks with little patterns on them. As he coaxes you further up the bed you squint and realise what they are. 

“Eds… are you wearing Star Wars underwear?” 

He chuckles, following your eyeline. “They are Darth Vader pants, to be specific, very manly.” 

The smile you flash him almost hurts your cheeks, the situation feeling so close to normal. Normal adjacent at least. 

“Yeah, very manly. Almost caveman like.” 

“Look, I didn't think I'd have a hot girl watching me undress tonight, let alone the woman of my dreams. Just forget the nerd pants.” 

You're laughing now, even when he's grabbing a pillow and getting you to lay on top of it, positioning you just where he wants you. Your giggles stop however, when he asks a question that steals your breath away. 

“Do I need to put a towel down?” 

“That's very presumptuous of you.” You smile, batting your eyelashes at him. 

“Look, I'm just asking. I don't mind sleeping in a wet patch I just want you to be comfortable.” 

He hovers over you, lips pressed into a line of concern. pressing your mouth to his to will the tightness away, you whisper into his face. 

“You want me to stay?” 

“Sweetheart, I'd ask you to move in tomorrow.” 

The next kiss is a searing heat, all heaving tongue and grinding hips. His hand winds into your hair, tilting your head to get you just where he wants you. No longer the blushing boy, he's the confident man, taking just what he needs and giving you what you crave. It's fire, it's want, it's everything. 

“Eds?” You murmur into his mouth as your hips chase his form. 

“Hmm?”

“Get the towel.” 

Hopping off of you, he practically skips out of the room, leaving you to debate whether or not to take your panties off. As you finally decide to strip them, fingers wedged into the fabric, he returns. 

“Nope, just wait, please?” He asks, propping you up with ease to lay the towel down under you. So, you let go, allowing your arms to fall to your sides.

“Lemme look after you,” he says, climbing on top of you to plant open mouthed kisses to your neck. You nod, gasping when his teeth graze a sensitive spot on your neck. Short nails dig into his back as you whimper at the contact. 

“Right there princess, hmm?” He chuckles, mouthing at your neck. 

“Uh huh- oh fuck,” as he bites softly, tongue flicking out to lather at the spot. 

Moving down, his lips press to your collarbone, then down your chest, until he places a peck to your nipple. 

“I've been dreaming about these tits, but nothing can compare to the real thing,” his tongue darts out, swirling around the pebbled nub, sending goosebumps over your skin, “fuckin’ flawless sweetheart.” 

You want to say a smart remark, shaking your head, but all thoughts fly out the window when he sucks, rough fingers reaching out to rub the other. Back arching, your legs clamp on his little waist, saying their own prayer to keep him there. 

As he releases his mouth with a wet noise, the thoughts flood back, all barriers forgotten. 

“I've been thinking about you too, what you'd do, what it looks like,” you admit, truths flying free in the heat of the moment. 

“Yeah?” He smiles up at you, “been thinking about my dick?” 

“Yeah, how'd it feel in my mouth, how'd it feel inside me,” you breathe out as he continues his worship of you, tonguing and kissing at your tummy. 

“Fuck,” he says, hot air fanning over his wet string of loving kisses, “you're gonna kill me, saying shit like that.” 

“Don't die, I'll never find out,” you joke, breathing unsteady as he falls between your thighs, playfully nipping at the sensitive flesh. 

“Oh we wouldn't want that. How else could you know what this feels like?” 

Lifting your head, he locks eyes with you as he licks thickly over your clothed clit, pressing hard. 

“Oh Eddie, yes,” you wail, wriggling under his touch. 

He merely smiles in response, hooking rough fingertips into the waistband of your panties and pulling them down almost torturously slowly. They stick between your legs so much that your cheeks flush. Eddie doesn't seem to mind in the slightest, working them off your feet and tossing them on his bedside table. You briefly wonder if you're going to get them back, but then his lips are sucking at the soft skin on your ankle and you stop caring. 

Up, up, up he moves, showing each patch of skin just the same amount of love, until he reaches the crease where your thigh meets, tongue rippling over it. You huff in frustration, hips wiggling. 

“I'm getting to it sweetheart,” he says, pressing a kiss to your mound, “I wanna savour this.”

Words of protest dissipate when he laps at you, rooting out your clit without a moment's hesitation. Any clandestine thoughts you had about this very moment are nothing compared to this. To the feel of Eddie sucking at your clit, his pillowy lips wrapped around it. To the sudden roughness of his fingers as they graze your entrance. To the breach of one, slipping deep inside of you, immediately seeking out your sweet spot. 

“Eddie, ri-right there, oh God!” 

He moans into you, vibrations tickling you in the most delicious way. It's an amazing feeling, but you can't help but think about the noises you're making. Maybe they're pathetic, and not what he's used to?  You bet he's heard some beautiful moans in his time. Some pretty blonde things with long legs and big tits. Girls who know what they're doing. Oh God, what if you start feeling him up and he laughs at you? What if- 

“Hey, sweetheart, you here?” 

He gazes up at you between your legs, eyes boring into you with the question. 

“Sorry, so sorry, I'm here I-” 

“Hey. Don't apologise. You in your head?” He asks, head resting on your thigh, “you know we don't have to do this right now.”

“No, no I want to, honest, it's just- I dunno, second guessing myself? I'm just thinking about-” 

“See? That's the problem. Stop thinking. Lie back and enjoy it. Just, get out of your head. No place I'd rather be.” 

His brown eyes are wide, wet with honesty. He was never able to hide his real emotions, at least not with you. 

“OK, I'm so- I'll enjoy it.”

“That's it. Close your eyes princess, and just feel.” 

Eyes fluttering shut, you concentrate on the feel. Of his lips, suckling softly at your clit, tongue running around the hood. Then, fingers slipping inside once again, curling within you. Moans slither out of your hoarse throat as your hips roll up to meet his lips. 

“That's it, so good for me,” he mumbles into you, “doing such a good job. You sound so sweet.” 

Sweet. You sound sweet. 

In that instant, all your hang ups begin to melt away. The pleasure he's giving you is hitting just right, making you forget all your worries. Pressure builds in your tummy; a whirling, winding force hitting you from the inside out. You're squirming, but it's as if someone outside of you is letting you know. It must be Eddie's firm palm, the one that presses into your abdomen, keeping you steady. Keeping you here, in this moment. 

There's no rush. Time loses all meaning. He could be between your thighs for minutes, hours, days. All you know is the ball of desire tightening within you is fit to burst, bubbling over in a melting pot of raw emotion. 

“Eddie, I'm so close, s-so close!” 

He doesn't falter, doesn't deviate in his ministrations. He continues, tongue circling, fingers curling so deep inside you think you can see God. A swirling, cloying heat encapsulates you, winding around that feeling you buried in your heartstrings and tugging it loose. That deep emotion you pushed aside years ago, a healed splinter, set free by the love and care he's pouring out of his flowing tongue.

It reaches its crescendo, vision darkening as every nerve is coddled with an inner fire. You're not even sure what you feel; release, blinding pleasure, pure love? It could be all three as you cry out, fingers tugging at Eddie's hair. 

He rides it out with you, fingers coaxing your orgasm to the very brink and beyond until you flop back into the bed. 

The first clue you have that something different just happened is the wet feeling underneath your ass. It feels damp, and cold? Opening your eyes, you haul yourself onto your elbows to look down. 

“Now are you glad I said about the towel?” 

Never have you seen so much of your own release coated on a man. It's covering his mouth, chin, cheeks, hand. You briefly wonder at how it could have happened, how that much could have come out of you. 

Eddie wipes his mouth and hand on the towel underneath and makes his way to hover over your heaving form, eyes practically shooting hearts at you from deep within.

“You alright princess? We can stop right now if it's too much.” 

Blindly you reach out, clumsy fingers rubbing at the hard swelling of his member inside his underwear. 

“Don't you want me to return the favour?” You ask, confused. 

“Sweetheart, one kiss of those pretty lips on my dick and I'll be done for.” 

“Then- I'm on birth control. Fuck me, please.” 

The groan that he lets out is deep and guttural, moving his limbs for him. He gets up to whip his pants down and you see it for the first time. You see him. 

It's big. Fuck, its the biggest you’ve seen; not just long but thick, even thicker than your fumblings thought. A glint of silver throws you for a loop, almost making you think you imagine it, but there it is again. 

“Holy shit, Eddie- are you, pierced??” 

“Oh yeah,” he chuckles, glancing down to follow your eye line, “you didn't know about that huh.” 

He climbs on top of you, kissing as he goes, plush lips on your skin. Soft, delicate, and warm. Guiding his hardness to your opening, you can't help but rub your thumb over the tip, pre cum slipping on the balls of the piercing. Eddie's breath stutters, nearly panting in your mouth as you smirk. 

“Now that's not fair sweetheart.” 

You continue to smile, gathering your slick to slide him in, but it quickly turns into a wince. 

“Fuck, Eddie, you're too big,” you whimper out as your eyes screw shut. 

“You're fuckin’ flattering me princess.” 

“I'm not, seriously, you're- oh goddamn-” 

He's pushing into you, slowly, but it still burns, the sheer stretch at his girth almost too much. Gnawing at your lips, tears well in your eyes. 

Eddie looks shocked, taken aback by your reaction. 

“Really? Fuck, OK sweetheart, you're OK. Look at me, you can take it, yeah?” 

Trust Eddie to say the hottest thing by accident. He's just trying to check in, but by God it sets your insides on fire. 

“I-I'll try.”

“That's it, atta girl, little more.” 

Reaching down to where you're joined, you wrap your hand loosely around the base, realising he's only halfway in. 

“Eddie, jeez you could- oooh- you could have f-fucking warned me, ah!” 

“Just relax, I've got you princess, you're taking it so well, you can take the rest- oh Jesus H Christ you're tight.”  

A long drawn out cry echoes out of you as he bottoms out, tears loose and running down your temples. He's leaning on his elbows, fingers stroking at your hair, leaving snowflake kisses on your cheeks. 

“Uh- mmmph- Eddie, you've got a pornstar dick.” 

Gritting his teeth, he looks at you almost sternly.

“You can't say that or I'll cum right now, please.” 

Eyes softening, you kiss his lips instead. He envelops you, tongue dancing in your mouth making you forget the dull ache. Nothing can make you forget how full you feel however, your pussy quivering uncontrollably around him even though he's not moving. 

“This is so nice,” he says, entwining his fingers with yours over your head. 

“Eddie, you're literally balls deep in me and it's ‘nice’?” 

Laughing so hard you feel it in your chest, he kisses you again. 

“Sorry, I mean, just being this close with you. It's everything I've ever wanted.” 

Lips quivering, you stare at him, eyes wide and wet. 

“Eddie, I lo-” 

“No, don't. Not like this. Just- can I move?” 

You nod, biting back the words, and he slowly rolls his hips. Eyes nearly hitting the back of your skull, you moan, meeting his movements. He's so deep, it's like he's everywhere. Every pore, every capillary, pulsing with him. 

“Oh my God, baby, oh God!” 

You're rambling words but it doesn't seem to matter, mind filled with fog, with feeling. With him. He links one arm under the fat of your thigh, coaxing you to curl it around him, and everything seems to fall into place all at once. Each rolling movement is pressing into that sweet spot inside of you, that spot he seems to find so easily like a gravitational pull. He smiles, panting in tandem. 

“Right there princess?” 

Nodding like a puppet on a string, he lets out a long groan. 

“Good, I-I’m not gonna last, you feel too fuckin’ good.” 

Pleased at his reaction, you link one arm around him, stroking at the taut skin of his back as he drives into you harder. Grunting with each thrust, he's tensing, holding back. 

“You can come, Eddie,” you say shakily. 

“Not before you sweetheart,” he replies, doubling down on his efforts. 

It all feels so intense, each whirl of feeling sinking deep into your bones and fanning the flames of your heart and desire. 

“Eddie, s-so close, come with me, please.” 

Almost as soon as you say the words your climax springs out, overflowing with every emotion he won't let you say. It fizzes through your nerves, throbbing with each beat of your pulse. 

Eddie groans, releasing at the same time, two bodies with one heart. As you both relax, melding together, you giggle at the same time. A laugh of relief, of pure happiness. 

“Sorry, thought I'd last a little longer.” 

He seems embarrassed, lifting his head enough to look you in the eye. 

“Eddie, that was perfect.” 

He snuggles his head deep in your neck, inhaling your scent as if it were the last time. 

“I'm gonna get you cleaned up, hang on.”

Lifting his head once more, he kisses, and kisses, lips moving against you with pure feeling. 

“OK, now I'm really gonna go.” 

You giggle as he just keeps kissing you, staring up at him with each unspoken word swimming in your mind. 

“Right, now, just hang on.” 

With a final peck, he slips out of you, returning with a warm cloth. Not used to this affection you merely lay there, allowing him, and wriggle out of the way when he takes away the towel. When you move, you see there's still a wet patch, but it's been mitigated at least somewhat. 

“I can change the sheets if you want-” 

“Eddie, I don't care, just hold me.” 

Grinning like a boy he climbs back into bed, pulling blankets over the both of you. Fitting together like you were always supposed to, you sigh with relief. 

“Eddie? Can I say it now?” 

You whisper it into his chest as he holds you close, almost afraid of breaking the spell of the evening. 

“That depends sweetheart,” he says, fingers tracing unknown patterns on the skin of your arm, “you have to mean it. I couldn't take it if you didn't mean it.” 

“I mean it. I love you Eddie, I think I always have.” 

The smile in his voice makes you smile too.

“I love you too. Happy Valentine's Day."

Taglist

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @choke-me-eddie @littlebebebunny @big-ope-vibes

#ms gexy writes #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x you #eddie x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things fan fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff

[chuuyascumsock]

Hop On That Delulu Train Bestie || Minors DNI

Summary: HOOOLY S H I T. WHY. DO I DO THIS TO MYSELF? May you all find peace one day and cure your chronic horniness and delusions for men who would never want you irl <3 (Just like me fr). Anyways, this has been sitting and gathering cobwebs for weeks now, but I’ve decided to finish it in honor of chapter 109. Keep being delulu babe.

Tags: Dazai Osamu/Reader, Afab reader, Soft Dom Dazai, Fingering, Cunnilingus (Why Is That Such A Silly Word), Pussy IS Therapy Ig, He Just Seems Like An Avid Pussy Eater Idk, Would Definitely Use Your Thighs As Earmuffs, Sorry Y’all Don’t Get The Dick <3, I Was Too Lazy To Turn This Into A Full Smut.

The quiet hum of a low light lamp buzzes through your ears as your eyes flicker over the words to the page mindlessly. Reading was boring, watching television was boring, everything was boring.

You look over to the clock on your nightstand and let out a loud sigh. Nearly midnight and he had still yet to walk through the door as he usually does and smother you with sweet nothings and soft kisses. Your gaze falls back onto your book, the romance novel glaring back with the most dull descriptions and irritating plot. You shut the book, tossing it aside as you groan and knock your head back against the headboard of your bed.

Picking up your phone that sits on the nightstand dresser, you note the empty screen with no obnoxious texts from a certain brunette. It was almost worrying not seeing his name on your lock screen with a bunch of random emojis spammed next to it. Unlocking your phone, you re-read your last text sent to him nearly two hours ago— asking when he’d be home.

You start to wonder if he’s late because of another failed suicide attempt, but you quickly let the thought pass when you finally hear the front door open. It closes almost silently, muffled footsteps growing closer to your room. Your eyes focus on your door frame as Dazai finally steps in, his clothes disheveled and hair messy.

“ ‘Samu…” You murmur, slightly taken aback at his appearance.

His warm brown eyes travel over to the bed where you lay and a small smile curls onto his lips as he shuffles over and climbs onto your side of the bed, his face and upper body planting atop of your legs. He heavily inhales before exhaling, his hot breath blowing against the skin of your thighs. Subconsciously, one of your hands makes its way into his hair and begins to comb through his tangled tresses. His arms wrap around under your legs and lock them in place.

“My love…” He whispers back, his body relaxing on you as his feet hang over the bottom edge of the bed. He kicks his shoes off and allows them to thump to the ground.

“You didn’t answer my text, something happen?” Your brows scrunch together in concern.

Dazai sighs, pressing a light kiss against your thigh, “My phone was in my pocket during a shoot out and it was sadly destroyed.”

You wait for him to make a joke about wishing the bullet went through his skull instead, but it never comes to your surprise. “Oh… Well, I guess we can go look for a new one tomorrow then.” You finish unknotting his hair with your fingers as a moment of silence settles over the both of you before you add, “I’m guessing today was rough then?”

He hums in return, enjoying the way your hand runs through his hair affectionately. “Kunikida made me do my paperwork,” He pouts, his chin coming to rest on your thighs to look up at you.

You briefly laugh, patting his head before speaking with a mock-sympathetic tone, “Aw, my poor baby…”

He huffs, burying his face back into the plush of your thighs, “You don’t sound very genuine, that’s very mean you know… He’s always bullying me around.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, knowing full well that whatever shit Kunikida gives Dazai— he deserves every bit of it for his shenanigans. You’ve only met him a few times as well as Dazai’s other co-workers, but it was safe to say that if anyone was being bullied— it was that poor bastard, Kunikida. “Oh, really? And you don’t bother the hell out of him until he loses his shit?” You stop running your hand through his hair.

Dazai gasps, overdramatically, of course, “I would never! Kunikida is my respectable co-worker who I value and treat with the utmost—“

“Then why do I get calls from him begging me: “For the love of God, please come get your terrorizing bastard of a boyfriend, I can’t do it anymore.” Huh?”

Cue another gasp, “You’re talking to other men?! Kunikida no less!?”

You roll your eyes, “It was originally because he called me to come get you every time you decided to take a dip in the canal, now it’s a complaint hotline for you.” You poke an index finger against his forehead firmly.

“Owie…” He brings a hand up to rub his forehead, bottom lip jutting out.

“You’re a handful, you know that?” You grumble, staring down at him, “I deserve a medal for putting up with your shenanigans.”

“Isn’t my love enough?” Dazai whines, making puppy eyes at you.

A sigh leaves your lips, “Yeah… You’re lucky you’re cute.”

His lips quirk up back into a smile and he nuzzles his face back against your skin, placing small kisses to your thighs.You don’t really keep count, but it takes a few pecks until he gently nips at your thigh.

“Hey—“ You squeak, pushing at his head which causes him to chuckle, “You’re doing that on purpose.”

The kisses on your thighs grow sloppy before he moves his arms from around your legs to nudge them apart, his body fitting between your legs. He quickly maneuvers your thighs until the backs of your thighs press against the tops of his shoulders, arms wrapping around your legs to keep you against him. “What? I’m just getting comfortable, my love.” He plays off innocently, his cheek squishing against one of your thighs as he looks up at you.

Your brows furrow, heat crawling up your neck as you glare back suspiciously, “I know what you’re doing.”

“And is it a bad thing?” He chimes back, going back to kissing your thighs.

You shiver, feeling his wet lips leave a trail of saliva to air along the insides of your thighs, “You know I’m—“

“Sensitive? Yeah,” He trails off with a noise that sounds like a groan mixed with a hum.

At this point, you feel a tingle crawl up your spine and warmth spread across your face. A fuzziness begins to form in your mind as his lips grow closer to the edge of your sleep shorts.

He pauses when he gets to your shorts, his face pulling away and his hands coming to tug at the hem of your shorts. “Want these off,” He mumbles, pulling at them.

You’re quick to lift your hips and slip your shorts down your legs, Dazai’s hands fumbling along yours to throw them to the side. He buries his face between your legs once more to press his lips along your inner thighs until he reaches your underwear. His face pushes forward until his lips press against your cunt and nose nudges your clit through the thin fabric.

A strangled moan passes your lips as he meets your flustered gaze, and although you can’t see his mouth with it pressed against you— you can tell he’s smirking through his eyes.

He softly breathes in before placing a searing kiss against your clothed pussy, causing your thigh to slightly twitch in his grasp. “I missed this pretty little pussy— haven’t tasted it in days,” He groans before bringing a finger to pull your underwear aside and reveal your glossy folds to him. His gaze is greedy as he parts your folds with two fingers, mouth watering at your slicked insides.

“Don’t stare…”

“Awe, but I can’t help it— looks so good,” Dazai breathes out before leaning forward to slip his tongue flat between your spread folds, licking up to your clit to collect your taste on his tongue. “Tastes good too…” He groans, lapping his tongue through for a second time, “I could spend the whole day eating this pussy out until you’re quivering and begging for me to stop.”

A strung-out whimper escapes your throat as you watch him. Heat burns the nape of your neck, the dizzy feeling hitting you twice as hard as your eyelids lull.

Dazai is shameless in his sucking and slurping of lips and tongue against your dripping cunt as loudly as possible. He doesn’t hold back any of his needy groans and muffled whimpers as he tastes every drop of arousal you have to offer. He strains painfully against the confines of his pants as he holds back the urge to fold you in half and fuck you on his cock until your drooling cunt is filled to the brim with his cum.

His tongue delves into your tight hole, the warm muscle wriggling against your clenching walls before sliding out. After repeating the process a few times, he moves to suck at your throbbing clit, sighing at the way it pulses against his tongue. There’s a small ‘pop’ when he pulls away reluctantly to replace his mouth with his lengthy, thin fingers.

“I love the way you squirm under my touch— drives me crazy— you know that?” Dazai grins before sinking a finger into your wet hole.

An airy gasp leaves your lips as you try to move away from him in surprise, only to have his grip tighten around your thigh with his free hand. “ ‘Samu, I—“ Your fingers clench into the sheets on the bed.

“I know, my love— feel good?” He borderline coos, eyes glued to the way you sucked his finger back in with every pump. “I bet it does, your fingers just don’t reach like mine, do they?” He adds a second finger, his digits curving into your gummy sweet spot.

Your hips involuntarily buck in to meet his thrusting fingers, your pussy squelching around his lithe digits. He leers at the obscene image of your sweet cunt swallowing his fingers down to the knuckle with a lewd moan.

“Good girl, keep fucking yourself on my fingers like that,” He croons, leaning forward to suck at your puffy clit again.

Surges of pleasure rampage within you as you clamp your shaking thighs around his head, grinding your aching pussy against his mouth and fingers. “M’gonna come, s’too much—“ You whimper.

“Come on my tongue— wanna feel that pussy clench around my fingers,” Dazai muffles a groan against your sensitive clit which has you coming undone and vehemently shivering from the feeling of your climax.

Dazai slides his fingers out of your pulsing hole and presses his tongue against your drenched pussy as you ride out your orgasm— his tongue not missing a single drip of arousal. He sighs quietly when he’s finished and pulls away, your bare sex covered in merely his spit now.

With your chest heaving from the aftermath, your head weakly shifts to watch Dazai sit up on his knees and hover over. “ ‘S-Samu…”

“Shh, I know, my love,” He laughs softly— and you think he’s going to redress you before cuddling into you like he usually does, but he doesn’t. Instead, his hand trails down to unzip his pants, the tip of his pre-cum leaking cock peeking out of his waistband. He pushes both his pants and boxers to his mid thighs before stroking his hard cock.

“You’re tired, so why don’t you just lay back and let me fuck that pretty pussy to sleep, hm?”

#dazai osamu #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #dazai smut #bsd smut #devious dambi smuts

[xscarletwitchsprincess]

☆ « 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 » ☆

♡ ~ dom!micheal afton x sub!gn!afab!reader ~ ♡

♪ smut request: micheal surprises reader on their birthday!

♪ a/n: i absolutely love this request anon! i hope you enjoy this smutty fic <3. i hope i did a good job with your vague request :]. it does have a wholesome fluff around the end that is very romantic <3. this fic is based in modern times :D! also, very sorry if my writing's bad or seems rushed, it wasn't, that's just how my writing looks to me (the end was rushed though). i'm also sorry that there's so many warnings, i just don't want to trigger anyone😭.

♪ songs that vibe with the fic: "Clair de Lune, L. 32" by Claude Debussy or "It's Been a Long, Long Time" by Kitty Kallen for the romantic part (Kitty Kallen is for the 40s-60s type love <3). "The Hills" by The Weeknd or "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails for the smut part (such good music that match the vibes😩💙).

♪ warnings (non sexual): mdni, 18+, modern!au, reader's and Micheal's age is mentioned, reader's height isn't mentioned but they are shorter than Micheal, honestly this doesn't have a major plot LMFAO, vulgar language (obviously), established relationship, reader uses they/them pronouns but has an afab body, reader wears feminine clothing and uses binder, one mention of bullying, beginning explains backstory, a few mentions of the reader being pretty/beautiful, Micheal calls reader petnames (baby, darling, love, etc), no use of y/n or anything like that, angst at the end, probably not proofread fully - there might be spelling/grammar mistakes :(

♪ warnings (sexual): piv, switches between soft!dom!Micheal and hard!dom!Micheal, creampie, no condom but reader is on birth control (please use protection irl, it's hard to have a baby), dom/sub dynamic, daddy kink, bondage, oral sex (reader receiving), praise kink, degrading kink (only used for "good [insert pronouns]" praises), possessive!micheal, marking kink(??), a little edging, choking, slight breeding kink if ya squint, aftercare <3.

♪ fic starts under cut ♪

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You and Micheal have been together for awhile now, almost three years, since you two met in college. You and Micheal started out as friends, instantly having a connection. The connection was mostly because he was sweet and charming to you, his actions towards you were much different than other students at the college. You were bullied quite a bit, not as bad as your highschool bullies though, but Micheal helped you gain confidence and stand up for yourself. You both caught feelings fast, afraid to tell each other, until one fateful night. You kissed Micheal, telling him your feelings, to find out that the feelings were mutual. Soon after, you two started dating.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Today was your 21st birthday, meaning that you were finally ready to drink alcohol. Micheal was only a year older than you, he sometimes had beer when he came over to your apartment. Those days he would let you take a sip then softly laugh at how your face would scrunch up in disgust from the taste and the burn in your throat from the beer.

The date you were on started out as one of the best dates you and Michael had, it was beautiful tonight. The sky was filled with stars, the moon was clear in the sky, there were no clouds in sight, it was absolutely beautiful and utterly peaceful. The weather was amazing as you sat outside the restaurant, the one you and Micheal were at right now. The outside table you were at, was a perfect spot to see the distant mountains that were scattered around the small town of Hurricane, Utah. The cool air had a nice breeze, making the temperature much better than it was earlier that day.

You and Micheal had already ordered your food, two medium-rare steaks, mashed potatoes, and a small salad for you. The food smelled and looked amazing.

♪ a/n: i'm sorry if your vegan/vegetarian, you could pick your own choice of food <3! now, let the sinful actions commence :D!

Micheal had been hiding the tent in his pants he saw you in that little dress you wore for the date, that was an hour ago. He couldn't help it, the dress hugged your body perfectly. The dressed hugged you so well, the hem of the dress reaching the top of your thighs, it was a short black turtleneck dress with short-sleeves. He could see the subtle outline of your binder through the dress, your tits practically gone. Micheal wanted to fucking devour you while at the restaurant and on the way to the restaurant.

He observed you as you ate your food, making sure to eat his own food occasionally to make sure he wasn't caught staring. Honestly, you were oblivious about his hunger for you, you were too focused on how pretty everything was around you, plus, you were also focused on how amazing the food was.

When you finished your food, you wiped your mouth before looking at Micheal with a smile. He smiled back, grabbing your hand and kisses your palm. You blush slightly from the affectionate kiss to your palm, making Micheal's pants feel tighter. He called over the waiter and paid for the meal, leading you out of the restaurant with graceful strides. Although his strides were graceful, he seemed to be in a rush to get you home..

You two went into his car, his hands immediately buckling you in with a kiss to your cheek before driving off after he buckled himself too.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Almost as soon as you and Micheal entered your apartment, Micheal was already kissing your lips with a gentle but passionate pace. His hands were on your waist as he kissed you, his grip a bit tight as the hunger he felt for you slowly overwhelmed his body and actions.

"i have a surprise for you, my dear." He mumbled against the kiss, pulling away to breathe. You looked so pretty like this to him, face flushed pink, your eyes hazy with lust, your breathing heavy, and your lips puffy because of only him. He could feel pride and possessiveness course through his blood from the sight of the effect he had on you. He quickly grabbed your hand and led you to the bedroom, gently pushing you onto the bed.

Micheal slowly bent down over your figure, his lips immediately latching onto yours, this time his kiss filled with lust and hunger. One of his hands slowly slid up from your thigh, across your stomach, to one of your tits that was covered by the binder you were wearing. He could feel your hard nipples through the binder and dress, making him let out a soft chuckle before he pulled away from the kiss to stare into your eyes.

"do you want this, darlin'?" His voice was husky with lust as he asked permission, a small smirk on his face when you nodded. "speak up, dear." He commanded, the smirk on his face getting bigger as he watched your body shiver in anticipation.

"please, touch me." You whisped in a breathless voice, the tone in your voice soft as your panties got slick with arousal. Micheal groaned softly at your words, his pants now tighter as he thought about how he could touch you.

But, wouldn't it be more fun to tease you? To see you beg for only him? You'd look so fucking pretty writhing in pleasure underneath him, you'd know who you belonged to.

Micheal was a bit conflicted, after all.. it is your birthday. He finally decided his next move, the smirk on his face completely gone as he stared at your smaller form with pure hunger. He slowly leaned down and kissed your neck, his hand that was on your chest cupping your throat in a gentle choking manner. Micheal didn't add preasure to your neck, he just rested it there as he kissed up and down your neck, leaving small hickeys. His other hand, that wasn't on your neck, trailed down to the top your thigh.. just below the hem of your dress. The action made you let out a soft, desperate whine from his subtle teasing.

He chuckled softly at your reaction, a faux sympathetic expression on his handsome but sharp face before pulling away from your neck and looking at you face-to-face. His hot breath fanned your lips as your eyes stared into his, the air getting thicker with lust as you two stared at each other. He studied your features with "concern" in his eyes, his brows scrunched together.

"is something the matter, dear?" He asked in a soft whisper, his deep and husky voice laced with faux sympathy. He almost sound like he was mocking you, the sound of his voice making your body tempature rise with lust and anticipation. You were excited about what he might do to you, you would probably let him do anything he wanted to you and enjoy it. He took note of the small shiver your body did, his ego growing bigger along with the possessive feelings that he had in this moment. He leaned down by your ear, his hot breath now fanning the shell of your ear.

"baby, you need to tell what you want or i can't help you." His voice was low as he spoke, the slight British accent mixing in with a Southern accent that he developed from living in Utah with his family, the British accent from when he talked with his father. The mixed accent made you let out a soft gasp, along with how Micheal's hand finally cupped your lace white panties under your dress.

"please.. need you, Micheal-!" You cried out in desperation, feeling his thumb, from the hand that was cupping your panty-covered cunt, gently rub your clit through the panties. He tutted disapprovingly at how you called him by his name, making him pull back his hand for a brief moment. You hadnt heard his disapproving sound when he made it, you were too focused on how badly you needed him in that moment.

"Micheal, please —" You started begging, getting cut off as a cry escaped your lips from the gentle but firm smack, on your panty-covered pussy, that Micheal gave you.

"that's not my name, darlin', and you know it." Micheal said lowly, his voice deep and animalistic, the sound of his voice almost like a deep animalistic growl. You gasped softly, not answering him, as his thumb rubbed your clit again, this time in a rough manner. Micheal's hand on your throat tightened a little, a gentle but firm preasure now on your throat. The pressure wasn't too hard, just enough to make you feel a little lightheaded and your mind hazy.

But, you not answering Micheal didn't please him at all, his hand on your cunt now giving your cunt another slap, this time was much harder. You cried out again, choking out a sob from the pleasureful pain of your, now sticky panties, rubbing against your clit, along with the overstimulating feeling your clit was receiving between the slaps and stickiness of your panties.

"no — 'm sorry, daddy!" You cried out with a soft sob, hot tears welling up in your eyes, threatening to fall, from the feeling of your overstimulated clit and the sweet sting the forceful slaps left on your throbbing pussy. Micheal left out a soft hum of approval, his hand on your throat loosening and the hand on your cunt gently rubbing your clit through the thin, stick panties you still had on. He leaned up to your face as he continued his motions on your cunt, moving his hand to gently grip your chin as he pecked you lips. He pulled away and went back to your cunt, your panties to his eye-level now.

Micheal slid his hand down from your chin, down your tummy, before having both hands grip the edge of your panties from under the dress you were wearing. He looked up at you, his eyes silently asking you for permission. You gave him a soft nod, a soft, reassuring smile on his face before he lowered his body as he got on his knees on the floor. He slid his hands from under your dress, to your waist, and pulled you closer to the edge, his face now in front of your panty-covered cunt. His face was serious again, the hunger that he had for you evident. He gently out your legs on his shoulders, spreading you open so he could see your cunt clearly.

The action made your face flush pink in embarrassment and excitement, anticipation filled your mind as filthy thoughts raced around in your mind. You didn't even notice that Micheal had already pulled your panties off you and bunched your dress up to your waist, you were too focused on pushing away the thoughts that were racing in your mind. Your attention didn't go back to the present until your thoughts got cut off by Micheal giving your bare cunt a soft lick, making you cry out in surprise. Your legs shook a bit as pleasure filled your body, the familiar feeling of your tummy getting hot with anticipation, the familiar knot of pleasure forming in your tummy already. Micheal let out a soft hum from your reaction, your head falling back onto the bedsheets as the vibrations of his hum filled your body with pleasure.

Micheal slowly licked up and down your lips, teasing you. Soft whimpers escaped your lips from the almost overwhelming pleasure of Micheal's teasing, making you bite your lip to keep the noises that bubbled up in your throat slip out. Micheal noticed this and pulled back, making you lift up your head and look at him with a confused expression.

"let me hear those noises, dear. i want to hear you, 'kay? you don't want to be punished d'ya?" His voice was low and animalistic as he spoke, his eyes dark with lust and a hint of anger. You nodded quickly, causing a warning slap on your ass. You gasped from the feeling of the slap, the gasp immediately forming into a soft whimper from the comforting sting the slap left.

"yes daddy." You whispered, earning a soft hum from Micheal before he leaned down again and kissed along the top of your thighs, leaving hickeys and bite marks that were seen scattered around your thighs. As he finally reached your pussy again, he kissed your clit, making a soft whimper escaping your lips from the feeling. He chuckled softly before licking your cunt again, this time slowly picking up his pace as he kept licking.

Once Micheal had found a pace he liked, he licked and sucked your pussy like a man who hadn't ate a proper meal in days. The feeling made you moan his name repeatedly, the knot in your tummy getting tighter as he continued his pace. Micheal could feel your cunt tighten on nothing as he continued eating you out, soft hums occasionally leaving his now puffy lips. Your arousal had dripped onto your thighs, Micheal's face, and the bedsheets - the bedsheets now having a small puddle of your arousal on the edge, where you were laying down. Your hands flew down to Micheal and gripped his shaggy brown hair as he slipped his tongue in your tight hole, a soft cry leaving your lips as your back arched off the bed just a tad.

You could feel the knot in your tummy tighten, your cunt tightening around Micheal's tongue as he thrusted his tongue into your mercilessly. You moaned loudly as Micheal teased your hole with a finger, his tongue still thrusting into you in a rough pace.

Your orgasm was approaching quickly and Micheal knew it, so he decided to pull away completely to tease you, his head now just a few inches away from your cunt as he breathed heavily. The action made you let out a choked sob of desperation as you started to beg for him. "daddy —please, need to cum —" You whispered with a soft, begging whine in your voice, your hands desperately trying to pull him back to you by gently tugging his hair towards you with another whine, making him grip both of your wrists tightly, but not too tight, with one hand and pull them away from his hair. He slowly stood up, making sure not to hurt you in the process, and look at you with a stern look.

"no. only good sluts get to cum." Micheal whispered harshly, his voice husky with an animalistic tone, his voice practically a growl. He leaned down, his face to your eye-level. His hot, heavy breath fanned your lips as he looked at you with wide, lustful eyes. He let go of your hands before standing up with a stern expression on his face. Your orgasm quickly dissapeared, making you have a soft pout on your lips. "don't move your hands, keep them above your head." He commaned, his tone harsh but it had a hint of gentleness underneath the harsh tone. He walked over to one of the dressers in the bedroom, pulling open a drawer that you knew all too well.

Your ears practically perked up like a bunny's would from the familiar sound of metal making a — clink! — sound as the metal hit one another. You lifted your head just enough so you could see what Micheal was grabbing, making your eyes widened a bit as you saw what he had grabbed. Micheal had grabbed his favorite toy, the black leather cuffs that always made you wet no matter what. The small chain that kept them together and/or hook onto something drooping slightly as Micheal held in a lazy grip, his hand flexing slightly as held them. The sight of his hand made your face get a bit red, memories of how many times he had choked you and touched you with his hand.

You had zoned out from your thoughts, not noticing how Micheal was looking at you with a dark — hungry — look, that was until you heard Micheal's heavy footsteps again.

Your eyes quickly flicked back to him, your lips parting as you stared up at him with — slightly — wide, lustful eyes. He smirked darkly down at your smaller form, his usual blue hazel eyes now a dark blue with hints of green in them still. You slowly gulped, your body starting to slightly tremble as anticipation once again filled your mind and body. Micheal helped you sit up after he set the cuffs onto the bed, taking off your dress and binder. He gently rubbed the little red line that the binder left, gently kissing along the line of it that was in the front.

He picked up the leather cuffs and motioned for you to hold out your wrists, your body immediately following his directions as if it were on autopilot. He hummed in approval, strapping the leather handcuffs onto your wrists, tugging onto the chain that kept them together, testing the cuffs.

A ghost of a smile graced his lips as he saw that the cuffs were tight enough for you not to move very well, one of his hands gently gripping the chain and helping you move up to the headboard. He quickly grabbed a leather belt that was on the floor and tied it to the headboard of the bed, wrapping it around the chain of the leather cuffs and keeping your hands above your head. He tugged on the belt, testing the belt to see if it would loosen. He let out another soft hum as he saw that the leather belt was tight enough and kept your hands pinned above your head, your wrists not able to move. He gave you look of — does it hurt? — a smile gracing his lips when you shook your head.

Micheal slowly pulled you down, making sure to not hurt you as he made the position more comfortable for you. He leaned down and kissed your lips in a slow, gentle pace, his hands spread on the bedsheets on both sides of your form as he kissed you. You let out a soft whine as he kissed you, your arms jerking a bit as you tried to touch him. He let out a soft chuckle from your actions, knowing that you were a bit irritated with the handcuffs that wouldn't let you move. He pulled back from the kiss to breathe, enjoying the way that your body was trembling under him when he hadn't even done anything. You looked so fucking pretty to Micheal as you stared up at him with pleading eyes, frustrated tears welling up in your eyes as they threatened to fall. Micheal looked at the tears in your eyes, his eyes growing darker as the possessiveness he felt got stronger, everything in him telling him to make you cry so you knew that you only belonged to him.

Micheal stepped away from the bed, finally stripping out of his clothes. Once he had his everything else except his boxers off, he breifly palmed himself through his boxers before taking them off, his cock pink and the veins bulging. You stared at him with hunger, watching as he slowly stroked his hard cock with his spit, his eyes full of hunger as he stared at your body. He stopped stroking himself and walked back to your spread out body that was on the bed, sitting in between your spread legs with a small smirk. He maintained eye contact as he gently rubbed himself up and down your bare pussy, gathering your arousal.

Your pussy was absolutely drenched, the small puddle on the bedsheets now a bit bigger from how wet you were. Micheal lined himself up with your hole before looking at you with a slightly concerned expression, he was silently asking for permission. You nodded, giving him permission to slip inside you. He gave you a soft smile before looking back down at your pussy, bumping his cock into your clit in a teasing manner. The action made you gasp, the gasp turning into a silent scream, the silent scream now a whimper as he slowly pushed himself inside you with a groan.

You whimpered softly as Micheal slowly entered your warm, tight hole, his cock already filling you up even though he wasn't even fully inside you yet. Your head tilted back as a low moan escaped your lips from the feeling of his cock filling you up more, a soft whimper escaping your lips as your hands gripped the leather cuffs. Micheal slowly leaned forward, softly shushing you as an attempt to comfort you.

"you're 'kay dear, 'm almost there.." Micheal whispered as he leaned forward, kissing your cheek. He slammed fully into you with a groan, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss to swallow the loud cry that escaped your puffy lips. He kept himself all the way inside your hole, staying still so you could get used to his size. It still amazed Micheal how tight you were despite having sex with him almost everyday. Micheal looked down at your smaller form, watching how your tits were so exposed as your head tilted back a little, your lips parted as soft whimpers slip out. Micheal kept still, waiting for your permission to move.

The pain from Micheal's size subsided, the pain now pleasure. You moved your hips up as best as you could to test out the feeling of him, a low moan escaping your lips as you rested your head on a pillow to look up at Micheal. Micheal looked at you with the silent question for permission, getting a nod from you. Micheal slowly thrusted forward, a low groan escaping his lips from the feeling of how tight your cunt was. The action made you moan, the soft noise making Micheal twitch inside your cunt. He kept a slow pace for now, the knot in your tummy from earlier coming back.

Micheal looked at you with lustful eyes as he slowly thrusted into you, keeping the pace agonizingly slow so he could make you beg for him. It worked, soon enough you were a babbling mess of — "please, faster-! need you, daddy!" or "harder, daddy-! s- so good..!" — with small whimpers and whines escaping your lips, the desperation for him overwhelming your body, soul, and mind.

Micheal let out a low growl, an actual growl, finally setting the pace to a quicker one with his hips slamming into yours as he thrusted harder into your tight hole, the hard thrusts making you cry out and moan. Micheal stared down at your body, the possessive feelings getting overwhelming as he slid one of his hands to your throat and gripped it firmly, the grip still gentle though. Micheal pulled out, leaving just his tip inside you before slamming into you. He kept doing that until he heard you moan louder than you had earlier, almost making him go feral.

"that's right, moan for me." Micheal growled lowly, his hips slamming into yours in a harder pace as his larger body hunched over your smaller form. Your body shook as you felt the orgasm that was denied earlier approach much faster than before. Micheal could feel your cunt tightening on him, making him groan lowly as he slammed into you even harder.

"that's right darlin', cum for daddy. i want to feel you cum on my cock." He groaned lowly, his hand on your throat tightening a bit more. The grip wasn't too tight, just enough to make you a little lightheaded and brain hazy. As if on cue, the knot in your tummy snapped, a silent scream on your lips as your back arched off the bed and your head tilted back as you laid on the pillow. You came hard, your whole body practically trembling as you came, the feeling making Micheal groan. Micheal couldn't handle it anymore, his hips now slamming into yours hard as he thrusted into you with abandon, low growls and groans escaping his lips.

"fuck, such a good slut f' me. you're mine, darlin'." Micheal growled lowly, leaning down and capturing your lips in a rough kiss as he thrusted into you impossibly harder. "cum f' me again, dear. need to feel you again." Micheal groaned into the kiss, running his tongue across your bottom lip — asking for permission. You kept your lips closed with a soft giggle, making Micheal growl lowly. He thrusted sharply into you, making you gasp slightly. He took the chance and dove his tongue into your mouth, taking control of the kiss as he explored your mouth with his tongue. Micheal pulled away from the kiss and gripped your hips tightly with both hands, slamming into you harder — if that was even possible — his cock hitting your g-spot with each thrust.

The pleasure was overwhelming for you, making you cum again with a cry. Your body shook under Micheal's grip as you came, your head tilting back, your back arching off the bed, and your eyes rolling into the back of your head. Micheal looked down at your body as you came, speeding up his thrusts as he slammed into you even harder.

"i'm goin' to make you mine forever, baby.." Micheal whispered as he leaned down next to your ear, his breathing heavy as he fucked you through your orgasm. The overstimulation was too much for your body, making you cum again as you practically screamed from the overwhelming painful pleasure of Micheal's thrusts and the overstimulation you were experiencing. Micheal's thrusts got sloppy as he chased his orgasm, slamming into you harder a few times before he slammed himself fully inside you.

Micheal stayed still as he came inside you with a low groan, the groan sounding a lot like a growl. His cum filled you up to the brim, a low moan escaping your lips as your tummy felt scorching hot from how much cum was inside you. Micheal stared down at your body, watching how full your cunt looked with his cock fully inside you. You looked absolutely beautiful with his cock stuffed inside you so deeply. Micheal stayed in place for a few minutes, enjoying how it felt to have you so full of him inside you.

Eventually Micheal slowly pulled out of you, watching how his cum dripped out of your cunt and fell onto the bedsheets that were under you. He looked up at you, watching how you were starting to get sleepy and drowsy. Micheal leaned forward and untied the belt, throwing it across the room, not caring where it went. He then unbuckled the handcuffs, kissing your wrists to comfort you. He got off the bed, walking into the connected bathroom and grabbing a soapy washcloth to clean you up. He walked back over to you and slowly cleaned you up, gently rubbing your waist with one hand while his other one cleaned your cunt. Micheal picked you up bridal style, taking you to the bathroom and letting you use the restroom alone as he switched out the bedsheets and the comforters. Micheal carried you out of the bathroom as you yelled out his name, setting you back on the bed. He gave you a change of black panties but helped you put on his black "Nirvana" shirt that you basically swimmed in and helped you put on pajama shorts.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You and Micheal had been cuddling on your bed, the movie "Bolt" playing softly in the background. Your head laid on Micheal's chest as you watched the movie, not noticing how Micheal was grabbing something very special..

"baby, let's go get some snacks." Micheal offered, although it was more like commanded, making you grin. Micheal slowly got up and held out his hand, smiling when he felt your hand in his. He led you to the kitchen, helping you walk since you were still a bit sore. He gently grabbed your waist and sat you up on the countertop, pecking your nose before walking over to a cabinet and grabbing a box of chocolate he bought for you.

♪ a/n: you can choose any candy ya want, i just put chocolate so i don't have to do the fav food abbreviation <3.

Micheal handed you the chocolate, chuckling softly at how excited you got from seeing it. He watched as you opened it, slowly pulling out the small box with a ring inside it and getting down on one knee as he took the opportunity of you not looking to ask the big question once you looked back at him.

You stared at the note in the box of chocolates in shock, reading the handwritten words with tears of happiness already welling up in your eyes.

♪ a/n: the text below is the note and it's corny as hell, i know it is. but it's fanfiction, wth did you expect?💀 bruhh, i'm not even good at love notes, so it's even more corny and worst than most😭😭

Baby, these three years have been the best years of my life and I want the rest of my years to be the best too. You always make me so happy, before I met you.. my life was dark and had no light, it was endless darkness. You are my light, my amazing and beautiful light. I love you, darling. look in front of you for a surprise, my love.

yours forever,

Micheal A.

You finally looked back at Micheal, a soft gasp escaping your lips as you saw him on his knee and the beautiful clear diamon ring in the small box he was holding. You covered your hand with one hand to stop the sobs of happy tears wrack through your body, your whole being now filled with overwhelming happiness and your love for Micheal. You nodded quickly, setting the box of chocolates to the side and hugging him as he stood up, his larger form in between your legs. You hugged Micheal tightly, the sobs wracking through your body as he gently stroked your back and gently kissed your hair. After you had finally calmed down, you looked back up at him with a soft smile. He smiled back and leaned down again, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss as he slid the ring onto your ring finger. The motion made you smile into the kiss, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and deepening the kiss.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You were excited about your future with Micheal, you absolutely loved this man. You loved Micheal Afton, the most important person in your life who thought he didn't deserve your love. He loved you and you loved him, you were happy with your life now..

#micheal afton #michael afton smut #michael afton x reader #fnaf micheal #fnaf smut #afton family #first smut imagine #smut in general #i wish i had micheal as a boyfriend tbh #first official post #smut is life #help what do i do #idk how to tag lmao #this sucks😭

[tojifile]

@Gojo Satoru . . . (๑ ˃ ᴗ ˂)

Tags: fuckboy!satoru, f!reader, pervert Satoru, possessive satoru, typical 2018 bad boy meets typical 2018 “good” girl, academic achiever reader, Satoru is kind of a bully, fluff, suggestive, cursing, no curse college au, mansplainer satoru

A/N: I love love love fuck boys. PLEASE look down on me, PLEASE mansplain, PLEASE make me feel like your doll!!!! Not irl though, it’s just little bad thoughts I have. If my irl bf wanted to though.. he could! (Probably one of the last—or the last fanfic I will write before the end of holiday break) Happy 2024 to my babies 🫶🫶

Links: Masterlist , inspo , f!boy satoru tease cai , f!boy satoru jealous cai , f!boy satoru at a party cai

fboy!satoru who sat beside you on the first day of orientation. He liked the way you smelled, the way your handwriting was impeccable, and how you spoke with such confidence. You were a perfect piece of glass, ready for him to shatter.

fboy!satoru who flirts with other girls but still always comes back to you. He likes to call you his “number one” and it’s not far from the truth.

fboy!satoru who’s kind of an immature tease. He likes taking your things and dangling them over your head. And when you reach for it, he pulls it up higher. He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t like the way your boobs jiggled as you tried to reach the item in his hands but that’s just one of the many thoughts about you he keeps locked up in his mind.

“You know the drill, give me a kiss first princess.” He said with a smug smile written on his face. You pouted at him and tiptoed to give him a soft kiss on the cheek.

fboy!staoru who you’re confused about. He flirts with all those other girls but he also always does romantic shit with you. You think he’s just playing with you but deep down, a small part of you hopes it’s all true.

fboy!satoru who always makes sure you guys are partnered up for a project. He would try to scare off anyone else who tries to partner up with you, especially if they’re flirty.

He snakes his arms around your waist as he glared daggers at the boy who had the guts to ask you to be his partner. “Now now darling, why are you entertaining him?” Satoru purred in your ear, still glaring at the guy.

The jealous boy’s one hand reached for your collar and pulled it down slightly to reveal a hickey on your collarbone, near your shoulder. You grabbed his wrist, feeling embarrassed, “Satoru..” you whined, to which he chuckled, now looking at you. “Don’t be shy princess. Besides, you’re the one who isn’t covering them up with makeup.”

fboy!satoru who takes you to all the parties. He loves to see you drunk. You’re much more clingy and he can baby you all he wants. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t like taking advantage of you. You only really agree because he drags you there but you’d also be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy spending time with him.

fboy!satoru who loves sitting you on his lap. Especially while he’s talking to someone else and you’re just being quiet. It’s like you’re just a little doll, made perfectly for him.

He’d usually have you on his lap during parties. He would be on the couch with you sitting prettily on him. His arm would be around your waist and the other holds a cup full of alcohol while he talks to his friends. They don’t question you being on his lap anymore, it’s just normal now.

fboy!satoru who always brings you home after the parties. Ever since he met you, he made sure not to get too drunk so he could still drive you to his apartment. An hour before 2AM he tries to sober up. He doesn’t understand why he wants to take care of you but he does so anyways.

fboy!satoru whose eyes soften every time he sees you cry. “Who did this to you?” His warm breath seethes through his teeth as he spoke to you. How dare someone make his little princess cry?!

fboy!satoru who tries to cheer you up by buying you pretty things. He would also shower you with affection, kissing you, hugging you, tending to your other desires. Just name it and he’ll do it for you.

fboy!satoru who’d bribe you with money to hangout with him. Who were you to deny the hundred thousand yen bags he loves to buy you? He just wants his princess to have pretty things!

fboy!satoru who still entertains other girls and delights in making them cry by choosing to come back to you each time. He’s still an asshole through and through.

fboy!satoru who takes every chance to place himself behind you, to connect your ass with his waist. He loves your reactions, they’re just too adorable!

fboy!satoru who loves to post about you on his instagram. It’s always those cute, romantic poses he loves to make you do, like this , this , this , this , this , and this. He loves to brag about you, his sweet, innocent princess.

fboy!satoru who never lets you do anything that he thinks is too much work. He sits you down on his lap and explains that you can just ask him for help. He’d even explain the most basic concept to you while you sit like a little baby on his lap. You’d look up at him with your pretty little eyes and act like you don’t know what he’s talking about. Being a smart ass was fun but being Satoru’s pretty princess was fun-er.

You looked up at him with a pout as he sat you down on his lap. “Princess, you know I can have someone cook for you, right? Don’t I give you enough?” He looked at you with faux sadness. You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned on him, “‘m sorry Satoru..” you apologized. God! You were too cute for your own good.

fboy!satoru who buys you a necklace, bracelet, or earrings when you receive awards. He wants to spoil you and wants you to know that your achievements are seen.

fboy!satoru who loves to play with other girls but he has a soft spot for you. He’d whisper sweet nothings into your ear, kissing your cheek softly from time to time when you’re laying with him on his bed. Gojo Satoru—for all his reputation as a fuck boy has fallen in love with you and your sweet smile.

There was no way he was going to let you date another guy. Even though there’s no label set between you, you were his and he was yours.

@toxicramune @oh-my-beel @nymphsdomain @morinuu @sweetcoorpse @asqmi @xavlyzn – Comment 🪩 to be on my taglist !

#jjk #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jjk satoru #gojo x reader #fboy!satoru x f!reader #gojo x f!reader #gojo #satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru gojo #gojo smut #tojifile

[haet-sal]

A File For Junhui//a Jun x reader

TAGS: Jun x fem!reader, fluff, SMUT included near the end, Seungkwan+Seungcheol features somewhat, a whole meant-to-be sort of love

Synopsis: when concert-pianist-in-training!Jun found your music (before he even found out you went to the same university and in the same major) he wished to himself, damn. I wish somebody loved me like that. But what does he know—all those songs were literally, I mean literally, all about him.

W.c.: 12.2k

Warning: basically bullying and Y/N is really INSECURE about her looks, ONESHOT NO PART 2!!! Jun might feel a little OOC but you should imagine the stage performer!jun, not irl shy jun!!, SMUT+PIV

Excerpt: “These are songs I wrote without lyrics…” you explain slowly. “They all mostly sound the same, please don’t look, it’s embarrassing—oh and that—” you point at the file Jun was reaching for— “that’s my lovesongs folder.”

Oh, wait.

“Um—Wait!”

Jun had opened the file up, and your heart shoots through your chest, beating wildly. You wanted to scream, curse, something, anything, just wish this moment away—

All you could hear was your heartbeat in your ears. Bloody rushing like crazy to your head, in a frenzy.

You named the folder, in your stupid head that thought no one would ever see these: A FILE FOR JUNHUI.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What does the name mean? 1096? What does it mean?”

“Who cares, Seungkwan? You want the song for your project or not?”

“Yes,” Seungkwan huffed, “I do. But I deserve to know what all the titles mean—your titles are always so cryptic.”

You stare the boy down, eyebrows furrowed. A stronghold against giving away what the title meant. “That’s what artists do. Good artists. Keep asking me questions and I’ll stop lending you my songs for your vocal projects.”

“Jeez, Y/N, I need them,” Seungkwan said in the whiniest, babiest tone you've ever heard. “The feedback’s amazing when I sing original songs.” Feeling like he had to brown-nose a little, he added: “Especially when they’re as good as yours.”

You roll your eyes. “Alright. I’ll email you the full audio file later.”

“Are you really not going to tell me what the title means?”

“It’s…” you sigh. Seungkwan’s two warm brown eyes are watching you intently. He really wants to know, but if he found out... “It’s embarrassing.” You leave him without an answer.

.

.

.

But at this point what about your life wasn’t embarrassing?

Case in point: 1—You didn’t even have to go that far back to see it. Last night your roommates Chungha and Jia went out to the club, or bar, or wherever kids like going these days, and came home each with a man behind her. You met the two in the kitchen, where you were just pouring yourself some warm milk.

In your pajamas.

You came face-to-face with the two girls, and their accompanying men, Chungha wearing a sequinned minidress that probably costs four times your nicest dress and for even less fabric; and your other roommate, Jia, was wearing jeans and a fake ostrich feather top. She looked amazing. They looked amazing.

You were in your pajamas. Which, in hindsight, wasn’t that big of a deal because it was 1 am in the morning, but all you were thinking at that moment was, y/n, you fucking idiot. If you dressed like them, if you went out like them, you could be getting laid right now. You wouldn’t have to cry about being ugly or feel like you’re utterly undesirable or curse your entire existence—if you’d just dressed in sequins and ostrich feathers.

If you knew how to dress. If you knew how to walk. If you knew how to smile. But it didn’t matter now. The two men had the munchies. They tore open a box of cookies you were keeping for yourself, some fell on the floor. Shaky drunken-slash-high hands. The four people stared you down; if they hadn’t maybe you could have told them the cookies were yours. One guy was picking them up and eating them from off the floor. Jia was halfway through screaming something at you. You slowly backed out of the room with your warm milk, and thought more about your situation when you were alone in your room. Maybe if you knew how to dress, if you were interested in the things they were interested in, maybe you’d get along with Jia and Chungha. Maybe you’d be happier. But you were too… you knew the word. You just couldn’t say it. One of many words that had been hurled at you for years. Ugly, unlovable, weird. All those words that applied to you when you were little and didn’t stop applying to you. They swam around in your head and followed you into your dreams.

Case in point: 2—the things you let your roommate do to you every morning.

Picture this scene, every morning: Chungha’s already dressed. Jia’s in the bath, but she’s locked the door so you can’t even get in to brush your teeth. You’re waiting outside the door.

“Jia, can I come in yet?” That’s usually what you open with. Which is usually met with a “mmm!” or “just a minute!”

A minute turns into 3. You’re waiting in your bathrobe, you can’t just go to school like this and she knows it. She’s the reason your first period lecturer hates you so much, but ‘my roommate was hogging the bathroom’ becomes a stupid excuse, and also entirely your own problem.

“Hey, Jia? I really need to shower,” you’ll try again, knocking on the bathroom door. Which usually makes her mad.

“I’m using it, Y/N, don’t be a fucking bitch.” She usually snaps this in such a biting tone.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I just…” you trail on and on. One time, you heard her snicker in there. She was on the phone.

“Yeah, I’m just making her late on purpose. I fucking hate her…”

You’d have thought by college the mean high schoolers would have matured, but Jia was a curse in the flesh. She was never going to give up tormenting the weird kid. It was very unfortunate you had to live with her.

Jia wasn’t all bad, though. She would come out of there, when she needed to get to her classes. Which makes you about 15 minutes late to your first lecture, even when you hurried up in the bathroom with all the time you were given. In conclusion, you were a loser and an embarrassment and you know everyone, including Chungha, was waiting for you to stand up to her, but you just couldn’t. In a way, you kept believing you deserve to be pushed around like that. For being ugly, for being weird. Whatever complex that was.

Case in point: 3—you’re crying writing songs in your room dedicating it all to one person. Wen Junhui, who lived in the pianists’ conservatory, eating and breathing Beethoven for a living and not knowing that you existed, at all.

You thought maybe you liked Jun the way that 12-year-olds made fanpages about BTS, or gave valentine’s gifts to the most popular guy in class, knowing he only dates seniors. He was just simply better than you in every way and you wanted to be a part of that, you thought that if maybe somebody like him loved you, you could start seeing yourself as a person that deserved love.

You’d met him before in person—you weren’t that crazy to develop a crush on someone you’d never talked to before—but like everyone else, the first instant you fell for him was when he played at the concert rehearsal at the conservatory.

You’re an idiot. You fell in love before he even played the piano.

It wasn’t Jun’s turn yet. But he stood to the right of the stage awaiting his turn, really close to the edge—sometimes pushed by the other students backtracking, and almost falling off, to which he reacted by regaining his balance and laughing it off.

A girl was playing Bach or Debussy or something or the other. Jun kept laughing. You felt something not horrible rise to the surface inside of your stomach, like inside of your emotions—and anything not horrible is wonderful to your brain, so you guess that this feeling was wonderful, perhaps even beautiful, something you had never felt before, just looking at the stage lights frame Jun’s face all the right ways: cheekbones bright, the bridge of his nose shiny.

You tell yourself okay, this is stupid, I’m not in love. But you knew if you kept looking at his face it would only take a few more seconds until you really do fall in love, guaranteed, so you averted your eyes, and looked down at his beige-pant-clad legs, and…

And he’s tapping his foot and his shoes are beige, too.

You didn’t even need to raise your eyes back up to his face, to that shy little smile, again. He was tapping his foot. Timing the notes. He was a pianist. That was suddenly so spectacular to you. This boy standing in front of you is a pianist.

So that was the first season of Jun; like fall, you fell. And then winter came and you found your feelings entirely unchanged, but pathetically so, because you were never going to make a move.

You always hoped to run into him sometime somewhere along on campus, but it never happened. But it was okay. You liked imagining that he was real, living his own life—and even if you both weren’t real, just two barbie toys being moved around in a make-shift campus, doll Jun was running his doll hands through doll books and it made you romanticize this universe of lack of autonomy more.

And his doll parts had been everywhere, sadly.

You hear about him kissing some senior at a town club, you see his best friend post stories of them partying. It felt bad, knowing he was so different from you and you couldn’t even change what you were. Which once again brought you back to the main issue: Jia.

It was one of those evenings where she had appointments outside, and you had the apartment to yourself. But you still couldn’t enjoy it, couldn’t just sit on your computer and mix tunes all day long. Jia’s voice nagged you internally, calling you every synonym of ‘loser’ in the book.

And even your songs were definitely written by a loser: ‘I told you I loved you/you made me swear/I’d never say a thing like that again’

You slam your laptop shut. Was all you did make dumb lo-fi music and then stress yourself out? Would it kill you to write an actual song that people actually wanted to hear; make people-pleasing music, instead of making music just to appease your feelings?

Deciding you couldn’t deal with just this anymore, you closed your laptop, and put a hoodie on so you could walk around the town.

.

.

Being that the town had both an arts college and a musician’s conservatory, it was impossible to get away from someone who had something to do with it. But the town center, where most students went most nights, was quiet, quaint, and always had street musicians.

A man was playing an accordion by the stream, in front of the lines of restaurants usually populated by kids on campus. The accordion music filled the entire night with its soft melody, and the further away from it you were, the more dreamlike it all seemed. Maybe you were right in coming out. The streetlamps were giving out a yellow light that the water reflected in golden flecks you couldn’t touch. For a long time, you just watched the lights and listened to the music—thinking, maybe you could add an accordion to your music. You’ve never worked with it before, but now you have an idea about it. An accordion behind a verse about Jun’s eyes, maybe coupled with some sax in the background.

Not that the song had to be about Jun’s eyes, you just thought of the first thing that came to mind. Now you feel embarrassed it was the first thing.

For some reason, as you stood by the bridge listening to the accordion, you were reminded of when you first saw him, when you were working with Jeon Wonwoo somewhere in the university. Jun came to pick his roommate up for lunch, when he was just a freshman and no one even knew who he was. Before he played at that Christmas concert and literally everybody in school developed a crush on him.

When you first saw him, you didn’t think he was a pianist. He had just come from practice. He talked to Wonwoo about whatever, and then he looked over at you, and asked if you wanted to go to lunch with them. You froze up on your seat. Pathetically, tears brimmed your eyes and you blinked them away—it was the beginning of living with Jia, where you had been treated so lowly that the smallest kind gesture was enough to make you cry. Jun saw that you got a little sad. He made a joke to cheer you up, with a smile. Instead of laughing or joking back, you averted your eyes at the ground and shook your head.

“I don’t think I’ll go to lunch with you guys, sorry.” You were hungry, but Jia made you feel like you didn’t deserve anything good. You didn’t know what to say, or how to act around Jun and Wonwoo. “You go, Wonwoo,” you said. “I’ll keep the counter for you.” Later you felt dumb for tearing up from the invitation when Jun probably didn’t mean it, he was just offering to be nice. It was stupid.

And then the Christmas concert came, and Jun played a piano solo—a 20th century composer, which you appreciated. It wasn’t the 400th Mozart piece that evening, finally. From the moment he got on stage, girls went wild for him ever since, Wen Junhui with the magic hands. And Jia… your worst enemy fell in love with him, and that was when you realized you were never getting anywhere with Jun. If girls like Jia liked him… what was even the point of trying?

Now, you walk around the campus, past the accordion player and the stream with its bridge and turn the corner to get to the restaurants. You fished in your pockets for money, for the accordion player…

You kind of wanted an ice cream at the parlor near the river, but decided to give it away to the accordion guy. You couldn’t spare another for the ice cream, so you decided to just go back home, get back to your room and tell Seungkwan you went out, since he's always telling you to explore the town. Technically you weren’t lying, you did go around the block.

Just as you were dropping the last of your monthly allowance in front of the (very grateful) accordion player, you felt watched. You turned to the street opposite where there were tables lined up at the front of one of many of the restaurants lining the bridge, and you see Jia, and her date. They’re both watching you.

You couldn’t see the man very well because the lights of the lamppost skipped over him and shined more on Jia, but he was definitely looking at you.

A weird, menacing look flashed through her eyes, and she said something quickly to her date, and while you were working on walking faster away from their table, she called you over.

“Y/N! Hey! Come say hi to Jun, you know him, right?”

Jun?

Jun Jun Jun Jun—

This can’t be happening.

Your legs carried you to their table, your brain must have decided to not be rude—it didn’t really consult with the rest of your body, because your heart was beating out of your chest and you did not want to be there, saying hi to Wen Junhui in your giant black hoodie that made you look like those slug aliens in star wars, and you were going to have to stand next to Jia, in front of Jun, which would definitely make him realize why he didn’t like girls like you that didn’t dress up or even look presentable. He was going to look at Jia and feel so lucky you weren’t the one he was on the date with.

“Hey,” Jia starts. “Jun, this is my roommate. Y/N, this is Jun. He’s training to be a concert pianist.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” he says. Every time you see Jun from afar, you’ve loved that wide-grinned expression of his. You never thought you’d see it this close. You gape at him, wide-eyed, unblinking.

God, his smile is blinding.

Shit. Now you’ve waited too long to say ‘nice to meet you’ back, and it’s weird.

You didn’t want to say ‘nice to meet you’ because you’ve already met… be it a year ago. But now you realize you can’t point that out, because he obviously doesn’t remember you. You swallow.

Jia is cupping her hand over his on the table. You felt a pang in your chest, but just about, a small pain compared to how you were embarrassing yourself right now.

“Uh…” There it is, there’s your go-to phrase. Uh. Uh, uh, uh… “Uh Huh. Right. Good to meet you. I’ll get going…” You realize your hoodie’s not up and your hair is a mess. You were a mess. You pull the hoodie up until it’s covering all the way down your eyes. You look even more like a mess. “Bye!” You step off the restaurant platform, and run into the lamp pole at the side of the restaurant. “Ow!”

Fuck. Jun got up from his seat to help you, but you zap away from his touch like it burned. Now you were getting up and walking away, eyes on the ground like it would kill you to look up at the world. Running into the lamp pole did its damage: you were zigzagging along the pavement. Head down, so it feels like the restaurant and Jia and Jun disappeared behind you and never even happened…

Why did you have to meet Wen Junhui like that? Why did everything have to be this way with Jia? Only when you were halfway home you realized Jia is absolutely aware of your crush on Jun—she's heard you speaking over the phone to Seungkwan, she definitely has heard you talking about him… You realize she called you over to humiliate you, because she knew you would embarrass yourself in front of him. You feel like kicking yourself. Played right into her trap. Stupid, stupid… You felt like if you looked at yourself in the mirror tonight you’d probably cry. You needed to curl under your sheets as soon as possible, and forget about the day…

Back at the restaurant, your roommate cackled. “She’s so weird. It’s a pain living with someone like that.”

Jun frowned. “Was she okay?”

“Oh yeah, of course. It’s just always embarrassing to be in public when your whole existence is a mess.” Jia threw her head back and laughed, shoving a forkful of salad into her mouth. “You know those songs that Boo Seungkwan sings for vocal classes? She wrote them. And she has an album out on band camp—Wildflower Dreams? That’s all her.”

“That’s her?” Jun gawked, mouth open. “Wow…”

“Yeah, but she’s weird.”

“Eccentric musicians are cool.”

“Yeah, but… that’s like, outlandish eccentric. Y/N is pathetic, sad and weird. It’s different. And she’s not a real musician. I mean, can you call a spoken word poem over sad beat music?”

“What—what does she study?”

“Music production—who cares, Jun? I just wanted you to meet my weird roommate. I think we should stop talking about her now.” Jia grabbed Jun’s hand over the table, squeezing it lightly just to bring him back to the conversation. She suddenly had a pang of regret calling you over to the table; now she couldn’t bring him back to the conversation at hand anymore; Jun looked worried about you—she didn’t think he would care, but apparently…

“Jun,” Jia called, “she’s just some weird girl that doesn’t fucking know how to fit in. It’s not a big deal.”

Jun frowned, avoiding his date’s eyes. This was when she realized she really had made a mistake calling you over. “Do you… know what morning classes she has?”

.

.

.

Seungkwan performs 1096 privately to his professors and evaluators, although later all the students want to see the recordings, so the entire productions class was crowded around, you included, although you didn’t like crowds a lot.

Seungkwan pulls you aside as his voice surrounds the class through the lecture hall speakers. “I figured it out,” he told you.

You asked what.

“June.”

“June?”

“Tenth June, 96. 10-96. The only letters left are Jun. J-U-N.”

“You figured it out…” you started to laugh, a little light-hearted since you trusted Seungkwan and knew that he could never betray you with gossip or rumors. “Yes,” you told him. “Yes, Jun…”

Seungkwan raised his eyebrows all dramatically and looked over your shoulder at someone else. “Happy talking,” he says softly, and rejoins the class in the crowd.

“Hey.” Honey-voiced, too light, too airy, just soft and breezy.

Wen Junhui.

You freeze in the spot, and your own music sounds so absolutely grotesque. You had to delete it, start anew. Everything sounds horrible to you. You rip your gaze away from the class for politeness’s sake, and also because you really wanted to know what Jun looked like right now.

“I'm Jun.” As if you didn’t know. “We met the other day, but I just wanted to introduce myself again. Can you tell me your name?”

Um. “It's um - um - Y/N.” After a minute's pause, you add: “L/N.”

“That's cool, to put a face and a name to your music,” Jun gushed, but you started to doubt how genuine his enthusiasm was. Was he playing a joke on you…? What was this, exactly?

“Wanna talk somewhere else? People are coming in for their next lecture.”

So Jun takes you to a sunny little spot outside in the hallway, right in front of the window sill. You lean the side of your body into the wall, just looking up at him, thinking this is a dream.

“You gave away a full note,” Jun says absentmindedly as he started the conversation.

You thought he was talking about a note in music—did you make a mistake? “Huh?”

“The accordion man, back at the restaurant. You gave him a full note—not even a coin. I thought it was cool.” Oh, so he meant note, like money…

“Shit, how long were you guys watching me?!” you blurted nervously, then collected yourself: “uh… I mean, I like supporting those kind of people. Plus, his hands looked so blue and frozen…”

“Jia wasn’t watching you that long,” says Jun. “I was, though. You caught my eye.”

Probably because you’re such a freak, you thought to yourself.

“You know, Y/N, I was wondering… if I could play on one of your songs, if you’re working on a new album? If you don’t want my type of piano on the track, I can always harmonize in the back, I’ve done it for Jihoon’s stuff—”

“Hold up,” you say, pushing him back by the chest a little because he was getting way too close and the only thing you can think of was kissing him right there. “How do you even know I make music?”

“I've listened to all your albums on bandcamp.” You’re shaking your head, frowning. Hold up, what the hell? Jun went on: “I love the whole Daisy album. My favorite is Cherry—”

“That one? But that's so old and only like ninety seconds long,” you interrupt. And it's not even about Jun.

“Yeah!” Jun laughed. “I'll never forgive you for shortening my favorite song like that!” You didn't know why, but he was reaching over to cup his hand over yours, which was just resting on the length of the windowsill. Like the skinship was normal to him or something. You pull back, and he did too, with an apologetic smile.

You must be magnetic or something. His hand kept coming back up to hold yours. With the brush of his skin against yours—soft pianist fingers, but still calloused on some parts of his palm—you guessed from playing the guitar—against the back of your palm. You shudder covertly.

Jun started to hum the song, and you broke into a smile that you had been holding back for too long.

“Mmm, mmm, cherry, my cherry… everywhere the light touches, it shines, wrote you a poem with just two lines…” Shyly, he looked down at his shoes with a sharp breath. “It's such a pretty tune.”

You can’t stop smiling, because when’s the last time anyone’s ever treated you this nicely?

You gulped down saliva that wasn't there, a dry throat. You usually don't get complimented on your work, mainly because you refuse to show anyone, but… now, this was coming from Wen Junhui.

“You give Seungkwan songs to perform, right? I was wondering if you could do that for me?"

“Uh…” You thought of it. You knew you had to accept—or else Jun would disappear from view and you'd never see him again. You wanted to prolong this moment for a long time, for as long as you could get. Jun wasn't the type to care about people like you. You were the background to his stage presence, just a face in the crowd. “Are you free? We can go through my files right now!”

“Yeah, sounds good!” God, how can his adorable accent be so enunciated with just three words?

The walk out to the campus felt more spiritual like anything, like in Spirited Away or Avatar: The Last Airbender when they enter the spirit world—okay, those aren’t real examples, but that’s the closest you can imagine it to be. Because it felt like your feet weren’t touching the ground, and you were sure once you got to the gate, that if you grabbed the handle, your hand would go right through—your heart was beating fast, but in a way that felt numb. There has to be more adrenaline than hemoglobin in your blood right now.

Jun reached over trying to help you open the door outside, and the moment your hands touched, a string of electricity sparked between the two of you. Zap. You both jumped a little. “Oh,” he said, “sorry.” Once you reached a spot under a shady tree he demurely sat and watched you open your files, handing him headphones so he could listen. You pulled out the one you were most proud of: the music that had already been released online already.

Jun quietly looked through the files humming the tunes trying to get a sense of them, moving his fingers along to identify the chords.

“I’ve heard all these,” he says. “Do you have others?”

“But,” you protest, “they’re bad. I mean, not bad necessarily, but raw and unfurnished.”

“You know that’s what makes the songs so good, right?”

You gave in and handed him your other file of note sheets, mindlessly letting him leaf through it. “It’s my songs I wrote back in autumn,” you explained. “I don’t know, I just sort my music through the period of time I was working on, like sometimes 30 or so songs in one file. Like making an album, you know? I mean, I don’t know if I’ll ever really sell whole albums, but…”

“Why can’t you make an album?” Jun asks.

“Well you know, I’m not… some pop star…”

“You could be.”

“No, Jun, I don’t… I don’t look the part.” The air turned awkward as you said that, you saw Jun’s forehead crease in a small frown. Right, right, self-deprecation is generally frowned upon… You swallow, trying to get rid of that moment.

“What’s in there?” Jun asked, pointing towards the other folders. You pull out the one the cursor is on.

“These are songs I wrote without lyrics…” you explain slowly. “They all mostly sound the same, please don’t look, it’s embarrassing—oh and that—” you point at the file Jun was reaching for— “that’s my lovesongs folder.”

Oh, wait.

“Um—Wait!”

Jun had opened the file up, and your heart shoots through your chest, beating wildly. You wanted to scream, curse, something, anything, just wish this moment away—

All you could hear was your heartbeat in your ears. Bloody rushing like crazy to your head, in a frenzy.

You named the folder, in your stupid head that thought no one would ever see these: A FILE FOR JUNHUI.

Fuck.

Now Jun was going through the audios, acting like he didn't see the writing on top of it, but you know it's exactly in his line of sight—you can’t even let yourself live in denial.

This was it, you thought, he's gonna think I’m a weirdo and he'll get a restraining order on me now.

Instead, he just asks:

“Can I play these?”

You lift your eyes up to look at his face, shocked by how… undisturbed he looked. You started to doubt he even saw the name of the folder, but you weren’t dumb—he had to have seen it.

“Y-yeah, sure… any one you want.”

“I've never heard this one before,” Jun says, gliding his finger over the sheet music. “Look into my heart, where flowers have bloomed, a song written about you…” He was reading out the lyrics, before he started humming along to it. You're filled with an emotion that feels like wholesomeness, you grit your teeth to resist it. It feels too good.

“That one's not released yet… I meant to, but um… I don’t know, just haven't gotten around to it.”

You’re tapping your foot on the floor as a way to fight the feeling from overwhelming you, but you can’t stop it, you could just start shouting for joy and embarrassment and everything else in between. You have never been more overloaded with emotions.

“These are great, thanks…” Jun neatly sorted the file back to where it came from, after pulling out the songs he wanted. “Actually, I wanted to ask you this, too—can you give me the audio file for Cherry? Just the rough drafts, if you still have those. It’s my favorite song ever, you know?”

“Oh yeah—sure—” you go through your laptop for it, and then Jun says:

“So, who'd you write it for?”

You freeze up. “Uh, one of my friends' favorite scents is cherries, so…” Online friend. The only people that could stay around you were the ones that couldn't see what a mess you were.

“Oh, shoot,” goes Jun, “I was kinda hoping it's about me.”

You froze up, slowly coming back up to face Jun, cheeks burning like they never had before. Your life was embarrassing, but it has never gotten this bad. “Why… why would it be about you?”

“I don’t know, what do you usually write your songs about?”

“Uh, definitely… definitely not about you.”

“For Junhui,” Jun read out, and you feel yourself cringe—toe-curling, eye-scrunching cringe. “Hmm. Common name.”

You stared down at your shoes for the longest time, trying to will the shame and awkwardness to go away. All the people you could embarrass yourself in front of, and it happened to be global campus crush Jun.

.

.

.

It’s Sunday, and you’re getting your work done for the school day tomorrow, when you hear your roommates leave. Today was one of the days you felt like interacting, so you went: “guys, it’s Monday tomorrow.”

Jia rolled her eyes, while Chungha started to explain that Sunday night was a promotional night, there were conservatory people there, and everything, and sensing their annoyance, you went back into your room.

.

In the dark of the night, you don’t hear your roommates come in, way past midnight, but you hear Jia’s sobbing.

“Chungha?” you spoke quietly into the kitchen, where light sobs were coming from. Jia lay there, draped over the veranda, howling in embarrassment. All you could hear was “and she’s so old! And ugly! How could he choose to dance with her?”

Chungha spared a glance at you, and merely waved her hands for you to get the fuck out of there—although rude, it was so you didn’t cross paths with the mean girl and make life worse for yourself.

“Come on,” Chungha was telling her, “he’s not even that hot.”

“He’s the hottest guy in school… and… he… has… nice… pianist fingers!” Jia says, speech ruined by tears.

You wondered if you knew the person they were talking about, although if your guesses were right, it probably was. You inched away from the kitchen, closing the door behind you, when the doorbell rang. The two girls probably don’t hear it; you open the door, not even checking through the peephole, despite the fear of assassination, or some creepy guy following the girls back from the club.

It’s Jun. It’s fucking Jun, dark-haired, tall, beautiful, Jia-would-kill-you-if-you-looked-at-him-Jun.

You actually get chills in some type of way as you look at him, and he’s not even looking at you. He’s looking over your shoulder, with a certain sleepy quietness in his eyes that told you he was buzzed. He rests his hand on the door frame coolly, and speaks with cocktail breath, “hi.”

He must be drunk. There’s no way he isn’t. The balancing himself on the door frame looks cool, but it’s also for practical purposes so he doesn’t, like, fall over.

“Jia’s crying,” you say, and realize she’d probably hate that you disclosed that information once it comes out of your mouth. “Shit, don’t tell her I said that. But I don’t think she wants to see you.”

Jun looks at you from the corner of his eyes, head turned a little bit away, and even though you like him you can’t risk setting your cruel roommate off again, not with now possessive she was about him.

He’s not speaking until he does. And that takes a while. Maybe he’s trying to get the right words out while simultaneously trying to not sound drunk. “I’m not here to see her,” he says, “I’m here to see you.”

What?

“So can we talk?” he asks, motioning with a slight nudge of his face to the stairs.

You look back at the apartment, where you could still hear his “girlfriend” crying. Whatever he wants to talk to you about, it can’t be good. He’s probably here to convince you to help him win her back, but you weren’t willing to waste any effort on reviving a relationship WHOSE HALF IS A GUY YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH.

“I…”

Jun says with a raised eyebrow, “you gonna say something?”

“Um, no.” That’s all you can manage. And a nice “I’m not going anywhere with you.” Which is rude at first glance, but that’s the kind of thing you made up your mind to say to him ever since Jia got all possessive about him.

Jun sighed, disappointed, but you started to think he had a side to him that Jia didn’t know—but you did. It was in the childish way he would tap his feet to music, or get excited about meeting the musician behind his favorite songs. It was the way he was passionate about piano, too. You saw things in him, things you wanted to keep to yourself.

“... why?” he spoke. You frowned, asking him to go on—but as quietly as he could, since you didn’t want your roommates to know he came to see you. “Why don’t you ever say hi at school? I know we’re not really friends—I don’t even make that many friends, but… I don’t know, would be nice if you had said hi.”

“Uh.” You couldn’t give him anything. You kept telling yourself you were a loser, that nothing was going to happen between you and Jun, and he likes your music, he was a fan—so that’s all what it was.

“Whatever,” Jun says. “I’m drunk, so I hope I forget about this. I hope when I wake up I still believe you like me somewhat still.” He turned his back to you as he walked away, and you stared after, hoping he’d look back. He didn’t. You left the door open even after he had left the building, wondering what it would have been like if you actually had articulated everything you felt.

.

.

.

“Are you okay?” your senior asks, one hand against the small of your spine—usually you'd be concerned by any skin contact, but you knew Seungcheol could be trusted. You never got a wrong vibe from him.

You nodded absentmindedly.

“Great. Listen,” he says, “I’ve got this big project coming up. And my professor’s evil, like he won’t go easy on the grades unless what I turn in is revolutionary. Plus I’m up against Lee Jihoon for this, so…” You blinked at him, not understanding. “Let’s work on something. Together. I’ll give you my lyrical experience and my senior tips, and you compose like Beethoveen for me.”

“Are you sure I’m the one you want to work with?”

“With your talent?” Seungcheol leans back and grins at you, the biggest grin he’s ever given anyone. “I’d be surprised you’re not always booked and busy like a ex-idol-group-DJ right now.”

You thought about it, just wondering what could ever go through Choi Seungcheol’s mind that he would say that. The senior noticed, too, checking himself for whatever he said.

“Oh. Do you not like the word ‘talent’? Sorry, I meant you honed your skills yours—”

“I don’t really have any skills, though,” you mumbled.

“What are you talking about?! Your indie band was one of the top rising stars of indie pop bandcamp, and the fact that you’re here in music production classes—you’ve got talent and soul, and Wildflower Dreams has a future—”

“Are you a fan?” came a voice from behind you.

You watched the lights in Seungcheol’s eyes change as he averted his eyes to look at who was speaking. “Oh! Jun!”

“I’m a big fan of Y/n,” Jun says. “If that’s what we’re talking about. Mind if I sit?”

You hadn’t spoken to Jun ever since he found your folder of songs on him, and, also, hadn’t called him to include him on your project. You knew he could play guitar beautifully. You knew it would fit your songs. You just… didn’t feel like you deserved him.

“We were just talking about Y/n’s music,” says Seungcheol. “I wanted to include her compositions in the new thing I’m producing.”

Jun froze. You think it’s a look of disdain and betrayal, but you couldn’t be sure. “You’re collabing?” Ah, now you’re sure. It’s definitely betrayal. As Seungcheol affirms, you realized you and the senior were both watching Jun as he went through a face journey, swallowing each word that comes to his mind until he finally settles on: “have a nice time, guys.”

Clearing his throat, Jun leaves your library table, shuffling away.

“We were supposed to collab,” you explained. “Right now. I guess he felt rejected. I should call him.”

“Oh yeah, yeah, clearly… Also he’s in love with you,” Seungcheol puts it flatly. He reached out his packet of snacks for you. “Cookie?”

“He’s not in love with me.”

“He is. You should definitely take a cookie—they’re store-bought, but one day I’ll get make good use of the oven in our dorm and—”

“Why would you say Junhui is in love with me? Twice?” you demanded, keeping your voice down to a whisper since you were in the library. “Like, why would you even—”

“Because he is,” says Seungcheol, “and it’s not even the dry puppy love type of love. He got jealous. He’s passionately in love. Expert’s opinion.”

You scoffed.

“So… will you help me with this grading test, or are you that busy? So busy you won’t even text Wen Junhui back?”

.

.

.

It’s rehearsal night where the conservatory students and the art school students mingle for a concert, and you see Jia looking around the chairs of performers, searching for someone. For you, it’s the opposite–you stare at your feet, hoping no one notices you. Not any seniors coming to congratulate you on your projects, and definitely not Wen Junhui.

The only person you wanted to see was Seungkwan, who was part of the vocal in the choir and waved at you excitedly and smiled whenever you caught his eyes. But other than that…

Jun was the first pianist they’d chosen; there were two. The piano is slanted on stage so everyone could see the musicians, and Jun was just… behind the wooden lid, in and out of side as he rocked to the music.

It was the only time you felt like looking at him, at a place where he couldn’t spot you looking at him or even stare back at you; looking up at someone who will never see you in a sea of other people. This was all you wanted to be for Jun, who shines like the sun on stage, a prodigy, a talent, something way bigger than anything you were.

There’s bouquets being given out to the performers after the show. You loiter; Seungkwan is talking to a whole bunch of your producer colleagues, including Seungcheol and Jihoon, who were the only people you knew. You were alone.

“Jun!” Jia’s voice was shrill as she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders. “Baby!”

Yikes, did you have to go through and see all this? You look away, pretending to walk away—the night was over anyway, but you were thinking of savoring the walk back to the dorm, while people like Jia had better things to do than retire to bed so early.

But someone tall was striding over to you, in a white suit, so fairytale-prince-esque as he gently turned your shoulders around. “Are you leaving already?!”

He hadn’t meant for his voice to be so loud; he apologized that he was just excited. Jun grinned at you. You wanted to lie, that Seungkwan or someone wanted you, but no one came to get you; you were forgotten to all but one person… unfortunately.

“If you’re not going anywhere,” starts Jun, “do you want to go on a date?”

You saw that he slid a wallet into the inside pocket of his coat; he’d been planning to celebrate after the concert. Was it just meant to be you? Or could it have been just anyone?

“Sure,” you say. “Are your other orchestra friends coming?”

Jun looked confused, almost like he couldn’t articulate that confusion, like a cat with its head tilted. Then he walks over to the orchestra people—”give me one second.”

After going around leaning over everyone’s ears and asking them to join, Jun comes back to you all straightened up, with a certain mischief in his eyes. “Bad luck,” he pronounces, “no one wants to come. Shall we?”

You end up at an ice cream parlor, one of the more popular date rendezvous around the town, and Jun swears everything is on him as he orders a large sundae, which melts more than he could eat.

You thought he’d ask you about school, music, projects, but he’s asking in detail about each of your albums.

“I always thought ‘marriage’ was about death, and like… ego death?” he prodded. “There’s a better word in Mandarin, but I just…”

“That’s too nice,” you tell him. “I can’t believe someone things that deep about my stuff…”

Jun’s sundae cherry looked lonely, and anyway there were two on two mountains of ice creams. He gave you one.

“I’m glad we’re alone, actually, I think I’d be too shy if Seungkwan or someone came along.”

Jun nodded.

“How did you invite them, anyway?” you giggle. “Well, I guess it’s good on your wallet.”

He scoffed. “You wanna know how I invited them?”

As you nodded, Jun’s hand (which you see now was kinda way larger than yours) slid out of sight to tuck your hair behind your ear, and he leaned over, whispering: “I went over, and whispered into each of their ears: ‘the girl I like thinks I want to bring other people on my date, so pretend I’m inviting you and shake your head.’ And then… they all shook their heads. I don’t know what made them do it, though.”

You looked at him, and he didn’t even dare face you this time, looking down at his sundae. His ears were red, which was quite a feat of you; although he had been the one that embarrassed himself.

You didn’t want to draw conclusions. Although everything he did just pointed to one conclusion. Still, you wanted to play dumb—until he straight up looked into your eyes and told you he liked you, full-on, no room for lies and games. Right now you just felt like a dumb girl going along with a devious boy charming you off your feet.

“Um…” you started, and suddenly, the salon bell chimes, and in walks some members of the orchestra, some kids that you knew by name. You wave at them, and they invite you to their table—you looked back at Jun.

“Do you mind if we go talk to them?” you asked softly. You were shocked to see him look a little embarrassed, more severely than before—he looked down at the floor, almost dejected.

“Oh, well, I was thinking if it was just us…” Jun looked into your eyes, and slowly started to stutter with his words, until he came to a stop: “... ah, forget it. Heh… I just… sorry. It’s up to you.”

“Why do you look like that?” you speak softly.

“Why do I look like—I can’t tell what I must look like right now, but it’s just… the face of someone who got turned down by someone they really admire.” He forced a smile. “I’m sorry, of course… you… wouldn’t think of me that way. I just really like your music, and thought you should know. I am down to help you in any way, though, which… you should be able to tell… I’m actually good at playing piano. Just tell me if you need anything.”

He smiles. And you were happy—he’d just affirmed everything you’d ever thought. Of course, like he said, he didn’t like you that way, it was just the music. Maybe it just touched him enough to delude himself into thinking he liked you, but… He didn’t.

You’d been led on by men a lot, so you think you know… But Jun wasn’t like that. Jun was genuine. But you liked the distance, still.

.

.

.

“You’re sick.” Seungkwan and you were working in a free practice room. Well, Seungkwan was working on his vocals, you were amateurly coaching him (because he didn’t dare ask for a professor to help yet). “Look at all these lyrics and all these song titles… You’re obsessed. And it’s not even hopeless, you might actually have a chance.”

You scoff. “He just likes me as an artist.”

“God, that’s what they all say until they elope.”

You slap his wrist with a ruler. “I am not getting eloped!”

“Wait… ‘looking at your eyes/ while I’m reading your pretty texts’... DO YOU TEXT HIM?” The question echoes through the empty room and you gingerly nod, kind of afraid of Seungkwan.

“Call him up,” Seungkwan says. “Right now. I don’t take no’s. Call him up immediately and say you’re down to collab.”

A minute or two of back and forth passed between you and him until you decided to grab your phone. This was what you loved so much about Seungkwan: he makes you step outside your comfort zone.But honestly right now if you embarrassed yourself in front of Jun you’d hate him. A lot.

Jun picked up on the second ring. You had given him your number the day you gave him the music files. He greets you cheerfully, “Ah, I was wondering when you would call.” You just stared at Seungkwan’s excited face, trying to not show any emotion or insight into what was happening. “...Should I not be so cocky?” Jun goes over the phone.

“Um,” you say, “Hey. Jun. I was thinking about what you offered, and, yeah, turns out I could actually have room for acoustics or keyboard in my new tracks…”

“And A BOYFRIEND!” Seungkwan yells out, and you immediately kick him with a swift rubber-toed sneaker.

“What was that? It was really muffled,” Jun says, and you could hear the confusion in his voice.

“Nothing,” you assured, “just… nothing.”

“If we’re going to do this, I’ve got conditions, though. I want to meet you,” Jun says. “I don’t want to work through emails—I want to see the creative process, and I want to work and fuel that process—you still want me on your album, right?”

You realized Jun talked a lot when he was excited, and as he rambled on, you look at Seungkwan to see him holding in his laughter. Ugh, whatever… Jun’s just a friend.

“And when you’re done with everything, you should come see me play. They call me Magic Fingers,” Jun says. It was clear he was saying it to be sexy, and you just sigh, not wanting to give in to the Jun fever.

After you’d said bye, Seungkwan spent the rest of the evening laughing and recalling parts of your conversation. “Magic fingers! Magic fingers—god. You kids keep me young…”

.

.

.

You stayed booked and busy at the end of the semester, working on your own projects while also helping Seungkwan and Seungcheol. With Jun’s tight schedules, you hadn’t been able to get together and do whatever you planned together—which, no, Seungkwan, was not happening. You considered maybe you’d work over the holidays, and plus, Jun had his school concert coming up where he wanted to be in the pianists’ showcase.

To be honest, Jun was the only reason you wanted to go back to posting songs for your own enjoyment on bandcamp again. He was the only reason you actually started believing you had fans. You really thought this day would never come, that someone might give you something to believe in about yourself.

One morning—a weekend, you wake up late and tread into the kitchen just wanting cereal. Instead, you found a well-dressed Junhui sitting there, tapping his fingers on the table, playing some symphony no one else could hear.

You almost fooled yourself into thinking he was there for you, but Jia comes in. Barging in all neon-lipped. “We’re going out, loser, did you just wake up?”

“Brunch,” Jun explained in just a single word, not saying more. As if it embarrassed him—you didn’t know if it’s because he’s talking to you, or if he’s shy about his relationship. You furrowed your eyebrows, unable to control your expression at all—Jia reached for his hand and intertwined it with hers, and you thought about how pretty her hands were, all manicured, fitting into his like that.

“Our moms made us,” Jia says, impossibly gloating so hard her face shined. “Jun’s mom is literally obsessed with us dating—she says our zodiacs are totally compatible."

Jun stood at her side nodding along, although he couldn’t articulate anything.

He didn’t need to. Jia may be bragging, but you knew enough. She was right, you weren’t. Not the right star sign, not the right element, not the right person. You never thought you had a chance, Jun was just your friend—and still, it hurt to have your friend choose your bully over you.

It’s a weekend. The two of them won’t be back until evening. And you, you had nothing to do except sit in your room listening to old lyric-less tunes you made until it maddened you.

.

So Jun and Jia are dating again, this time for real. You saw the couple kiss right in front of you, which you just stood by and watched so you didn’t look so aloof, but it didn’t matter what you did, Jia was always going to lay into you. She made a crack of a joke at your expense as they left together, and you didn’t know if Jun laughed but you imagined he might have. It’s not like he owes you anything, is it?

It was killing you, and to be honest, Seungcheol was right—you were worth something, at least your music was. And maybe… Junhui just wanted to use you for your talent.

When you check your text history, it’s always just Jun starting the conversations, sending emojis and stickers, acting forward about everything, asking you how your school work was going. You had always kept him at arm’s length, and still he managed to hurt you.

Maybe it was just how having a crush on the most wanted guy at school goes…

You finish 3 songs that day, which was a feat for you, and surprisingly, it’s all the ones you intended to feature Jun on.

.

.

.

Jun wanted to tell you he really missed you when he didn’t get to see you, and also, you did a good job writing the song for Seungcheol’s project. He also wanted to tell you he spent a total of 5 hours per day streaming your old songs on bandcamp, just because he felt like hearing your voice and you weren’t talking to him.

He thought at the end of the semester, well, I should just talk to her, whatever.

He wanted to congratulate you on the song with Seungcheol, anyway. The professor had been proud enough to share it with the students, and so he thought he should also congratulate you. Plus, he felt like no one ever got the song the way he did. What your songs made him feel was special.

He sat down next to you after class was over, just like the first time you talked, and said, “The collaboration with Seungcheol was so good. Everyone loves it.”

“Thanks.”

“I mean, I think I loved it the most out of anybody else ever,” he adds.

You were frowning, so he thought you were challenging him that he didn’t listen to it at all. So he started to hum:

“If I were a wildflower I could grow in the cracks of your front lawn/watch you smile for the girl you love/crush me under the soles of your boots…”

“It’s a love song,” Jun says. “It’s about complete devotion.” he listens to the tune for a few more seconds, before he can look up at you with eyes so full of what you assumed as pity. “The guy you wrote this for is really lucky.”

He doesn’t have a clue.

You snap your laptop closed, not sparing one glance at Jun—which he noticed and saw the hostility. “Yeah, well,” you say, “you wouldn’t have a clue about my devotion.”

Jun was frowning. “What? Did I do something wrong?”

You didn’t reply when he pressed for more from you, and you simply crossed over his lap with your sweatpant-clad legs and walked off on him.

He pulled you back by the arm. “Listen, if you think Seungcheol’s a better musician than me or you like him more than that and you’d rather collab with him, you can just say that. There’s no need to lead me on like you’re—”

“This isn’t about Seungcheol,” you say, “or it’s about Seungcheol for you. But not for me. You can leave, Jun, if that’s all you came here to talk about.”

“F—forget it.” Jun basically threw your shoulder off his grasp like he was shaking you off, although there was a softness to his voice like it was killing him being mean to you. With gritted teeth, you walked faster and faster out of his sight, cursing him. Oh, the things you were going to tell Seungkwan about him…

.

.

.

“We’re gone,” Chungha says with a laugh. “Don’t expect us back.”

“I wasn’t going to…” you mumbled in your usual unsure tone, but with a smile so you didn’t look so sullen.

Chungha smiled back at you, or was about to, when— “Chungha! Let’s fucking go!”

“Alright!” She shot you half a glance, fixed her heels, and trodded out the door.

Sound of their pink heels clinking against the stair tiles. And then the entire building was quiet. All the students in the building had left for that one party.

Not to be pathetic, but you always end up regretting every decision you made.

Why would Jun ever even like you?

You lie on the bed thinking of what Seungcheol told you, the sentence going over your head over and over again until you feel like slapping yourself or taking a ice bath just to get it off your mind.

Yes, Seungcheol had experience in everything: being a boy, being in love, being a boy in love, and yes he could have actual insight, but also, what could he ever know about what Jun feels?

Seungcheol might just be saying it to be nice.

You decided to play one of your songs from that folder, FOR JUNHUI, just to see if the raw audio needed retouches, but halfway through listening to the whole album you realized two things: 1) you had no clue how to fix anything—not even just in your songs, but also in your life—and 2) you were crying.

It didn’t help that your own songs were a representation of your own fucked up, boring, messy life, so you kept listening and crying and listening and crying more. Until you were uglier than you had started.

Somewhere through the night—-maybe 40 minutes after Chungha and Jia had left—the doorbell rang.

You weren’t expecting anybody, but it was also possible that throughout your sadness you had blacked out and ordered a pizza without the present you knowing, so you opened the door.

You never expected to see Jun here. The Wen Junhui of your poetic lyrical metaphorized musings, manifesting himself on your doorstep with tousled hair and a leather jacket.

It’s cold out. That’s the first thing you think. He should have worn a puffer coat. You pull him into the apartment.

“What are you doing here?” you demanded, sounding more fed up than you needed to be.

“Got bored at the party…” Was he slurring? You could understand him well but there was that tint of alcohol in his words.

“Jia isn’t here.”

“I know, I saw her at the party. I…” he laughed, and you see his flushed cheeks—definitely drunk. “I told her I’d bring her some booze and then ditched her. It’s whatever, I’m sure she’ll find some other guy… were you just lying in the dark here?” He reached for the light switch, turning it on. White light against your tear streaks.

Jun looked startled, like the sight shocked the liquor’s effects out of him. He gasped. “Are you crying?” Just when you were about to deny it, he stepped closer—or the closest he could get—and wiped your cheeks with his thumbs, you zap away from him at the speed of light.

“Why would you cry—”

“Jun! You don’t break into my house when no one’s around and proceed to wipe the tears off my face!”

There was a silence, which after a moment he broke with: “Well I didn’t break in, you let me in… But I can go if you want me to.”

“Please do.”

He was frowning. “For real?”

You nodded, taking a pathetic swipe against your cheek to get rid of remaining tear streaks. You really didn’t want to see him right now.

Jun turned to leave, only before he had opened the door completely, he looked over his shoulder. And shuts it. “Have you had dinner?”

“... not hungry,” you say.

“Well you still have to eat something. Let me make you black bean noodles, you know it’s a chinese staple—”

You were pulling at his sleeve before he could reach the kitchen. “You already know this apartment well, huh? From visiting her so much?” your tone was accusatory and you were quiet, but he heard you: there was little else to pay attention to in the cold dead night.

Jun sighed. “Why didn’t you call at all? Even if it wasn’t about music—you know you’re more interesting to me than just your music? I could just listen to you talk all day. Just sit somewhere and talk.”

“That’s…” you start, searching for words, “embarrassing.”

“I’m embarrassing?”

“You don’t want to be seen with me, Jun. It’s going to make everyone think… it’s gonna be embarrassing if someone assumes we’re… together.”

“Maybe I want people to think we’re together,” Jun blurts.

You know he didn’t mean to say it, because there was a red light of alarm in his eyes as he finished saying that.

“Yeah, but… you have Seungcheol sunbae, anyway, and—you like Seungcheol, don’t you?”

“No!”

“But you were working—”

“It’s just that,” you say. “Work.”

Jun sighed. “You know my whole persona is an act, right? I’m performing. I’m being this suave kind of guy that knows a lot about the world, but really, I just really want you to like me.”

“Why…”

“Not even I know that!” His head is in his hands. “I love your music. But you… I like you. Like-like you.”

You roll your eyes. “And you, don’t even know what I’m feeling.”

Jun considers this for a moment, and finally, softly, he asks: “who was that album for?” You lifted your face up to his, just to know what he was thinking. He’s not pulling a poker face, and his eyes were soft. But that big grin was nowhere in sight. “The unfinished songs that you gave me,” he continued, “The title of that folder—I mean, am I seeing things? If everything in that album is what you want to say…”

“It is,” you answered. “Yeah. It’s for you.” You felt like beating yourself up, because it’s so strange. It’s so weirdo freak of you to have written a full album on a guy you’d only ever talked to once, but you always assumed you were doing no harm in just using him as a muse… But now Jun might think different. He’s going to think you’re a stalker, that you—

He’s kissing you. Lips on lips. Tongue on lips.

You weren’t that big of a loser that you’d never been kissed, but you never actually felt this way being kissed before. The kind of kiss that knocks out every single thought from your head. You whimper, a sound from the back of your throat that easily escaped.

Jun pulled away. “Oh. I shouldn’t have—”

“I thought you were dating her,” you say. “I thought—”

“I thought you were dating Seungcheol. It’s… just so stupid… my mother made me go on a date. I was going to call you and explain, but then you just shut me off comple—”

You bring your lips to his again, both hands traveling up to his thick head of hair, and his own hands went to support you at the small of your back, the crop top you were wearing rising up so he could feel the vertebrae on your spine, inch by inch. He’s so close to you.

He asks which of those doors is your room. You grab him by the hand and drag him inside your horrible aspiring-music-producer-vibes room, which is, to say, messy, but he doesn’t mind. He pushes you down on the bed like he owned the entire apartment and kept kissing you, and you could feel his knees between yours, pushing and pushing.

You wanted to feel him, too, but all you could do was not objectify him and simply remove stray strands of hair from his forehead, staring up at him with utmost love. And he takes his patience unbuttoning each button from your blouse, and then pulling your sweatpants off you.

“That song you wrote for Seungcheol,” Jun says, “you don’t need to be under anybody’s feet. All you need to be is here. In my arms.” He kissed your neck, and you’re glad he’s too caught up in the feeling of your body that he doesn’t need an answer from you, but also, he’s right. Being in his arms just felt right. You’ve been daydreaming about him since forever, but you never thought you’d get to touch the thing you’ve been writing songs about. You reach out to touch him, and there he is, warm and real.

“You’re real,” you say between pants. “You’re fucking real.”

You feel his teeth on your breasts and his fingers on your clit.

You’re wet—you don’t know how you could get so wet when you’ve been wasting all the water in you through crying—and so is Jun’s mouth, as he swirls his tongue on your nipple, acting as if he were starving. It’s just body and body, hot, human. You’d never had a kiss you regretted until now.

Jun’s hungry for all of you and it shows. He knees your legs apart as his hands knead the skin of your thighs, and for a second just stares hungrily. You squeeze your eyes shut under his mercy—this whole night belonged to him now.

“Let’s see if you taste like cherries, baby.”

You feel his tongue on your clit and you ball up the covers in your fists, trying not to make any noises in case it scares him off.

“Let me hear you,” Jun panted into your flesh. “Don’t be shy.”

You simply make a mmmph sound, but once his tongue meets the spot in your clit that makes your whole body feel like it’s on fire, you scream. You had never felt this way before.

“Please!” you whimpered. “Fuck, Jun, please.” With every new height and sensation, you press your legs together, as if you wanted it to be over, and you could feel the sides of Jun’s head against your thighs, precious skin against skin.

Just when you thought you might release this burning feeling, which could leave you spasming and shaking, it stops, Jun’s tongue isn’t on you anymore, but his lips are on yours and you can taste yourself. It’s lewd, but you’d always wanted Jun this way. Loving you in the filthiest ways. For a long time you didn’t think he’d even want to talk to you, or touch you… but now he’s touching you like this.

“I wanna make you cum,” Jun says, “but not just with my tongue. I want us together.”

With his mouth attached to your neck and his hands kneading every part of you, you almost didn’t feel him pushing closer to you, crotch against clothed crotch, until you feel him against you, and he pulls away and stares, almost to ask for permission.

You pull him in and you’re crashing into each other, body against body, sweat against sweat. Your cores have met each other, and it’s so warm, a thousand sensations in one stroke of his hips, and you’re both letting go of the breaths you’ve been holding in, panting and moaning. You like his tired-out groans, there’s something so manish about them.

Once you felt you couldn’t keep the pace so regularly this way, you close your eyes and tense up, expecting it to be rough, but Jun brushes the hair out of your eyes, and you blinked. He’s looking down at you sweetly, and, with a soft kiss to your cheek, you feel him inside of you, slowly, unbearably hot and paced, the deepest part of you meeting the highest part of him, and you just mewl under him.

Jun compliments your eyes. Jun compliments your body. He calls every part of you pretty, up until the point where he couldn’t speak anymore because of the pleasure.

“Pretty,” he kept saying, “pretty, pretty…” His lips are on your ear when he releases, and you hear the worst of those moans, it sounds as if he were in pain. Like you put him in that pain, and it feels… good. What was making love but agreeing to hurt each other? You felt tired out and you feel the back of his spine with closed eyes and trailing fingertips… it’s real. It’s all real.

“My cherry,” Jun gasped. He kissed you, in a drunken daze, on the ear. You could feel his breaths and panting. “Everywhere the light touches, it shines...” He touched a spot on your forehead where the moonlight off the windows shone, and it made you feel all beautiful and made of light. Then he kisses your lips.

SMUT ENDS HER

You woke up in his arms. He was staring at you. You recoiled as soon as your eyes met—you weren’t expecting his to be open—and covered up your face with the blanket. “Ugly,” you say.

“Pretty.” He gave you a kiss on your forehead which was left uncovered. With one hand that was supporting your body from the back, he pulled you closer. “Breakfast?”

Just as you were asking that, something loud came from outside the door. “Y/N WE’RE BACK AND I HAVE A HANGOVER SO DON’T YOU DARE PLAY YOUR SHITTY MUSIC OUT LOUD.”

You pulled away from Jun. “Oh my god. Oh my god, I just slept with Jia’s crush—”

“I have a name, you know?” Jun didn’t even get to crack the full joke because you had flung his pants and belt at his face.

“Get dressed!” you hissed. “We have to sneak you out of here.”

“Why can’t we—”

“Jia. Will. Kill. Me.” You tiptoed to the door and peaked out, to find Chungha adminstering eyedrops to a very fatigued C. You glanced back at Jun. “We can’t do this alone. Get dressed, fast.” Without sparing Jun a glance, you waved your hands to get Chungha’s attention, and waved her over, opening the door just slightly ajar enough for Chungha to enter.

“Wait, I’m still changing—”

“Oh my god,” Chungha gasped.

Jun put his finger to his lips, eyes pleading. Extremely vulnerable, being that he’s only half-dressed right now.

You don’t even have a single inhibition in you to think.

Chungha closes the door behind her, treading lightly in your room. You felt relieved she discovered you, because you didn't want to keep this secret. At least now there's someone you could talk to about it…

Because Jun's here right now but you don’t want to count on it. You’re gonna need someone to talk to when he decides he’s more into girls like Jia and never someone like you.

“You were here all night with Wen Junhui?” Chungha hisses at you. “Woah, Y/n.”

You shushed her.

“How did you even manage to score Jun?” Chungha asked, and her tone was at first trying at keeping the whole ordeal clandestine, but slowly her voice raised and raised.

“Chungha!” Jia yelled from outside. “What are you doing in her room?”

“Just—She needs to borrow an outfit!” Chungha turned back at you. “Damn. So. Wen Junhui.”

“We need to sneak him out of here,” you whispered.

“Wait, why?”

“Yeah,” Jun added in, “why?”

“Because—” you say. “Because—Jia—she’ll make my life a living hell if she finds out I stole her dream man.”

You look over at Jun and he’s frowning.

“I’ll distract her,” Chungha volunteered. “No worries, guys. Just sneak him out while her back’s turned to the kitchen.”

Chungha exited the room, and you and Jun stared at each other—or, Jun was staring and you wanted to lose the eye contact.

“You’re afraid of her that much?” Jun asked.

“She’s just—you should go.”

“You must have been really mad at me when I chose her. I didn’t know.”

“You should go, Jun, and you shouldn’t apologize for nothing…”

“If I knew,” Jun says, “that she hurt you then I wouldn’t have…”

“Go,” you say.

“I’ll make this right.” Jun pulled you in so you were looking at his eyes, and they were dark and warm, like coffee. “We’re going to tell her—we’re going to tell everyone. When you’re ready.”

He pulled on the extra coat he had on the previous night, and then stood up. You promised him you’d walk him to the gate, so you did, both slowly inching out the apartment.

On the way down the stairs, Jun kept looking over at you, as if he wanted to say something, but honestly you didn’t know if you could take an honest conversation right now.

You didn’t regret the night, but when you thought more about it, it felt like Jun had just been using you, or was drunk, or just—it wouldn’t make sense that someone like Jun would be into something like you.

“Text me, okay?” Jun says, even though from his point of view you were just one side of your face that had disappeared behind the magnetic door.

He said it so softly and shyly that you felt touched. “I will,” you say. “I will, Jun.”

#svt imagines #seventeen imagines #jun imagines #svt fluff #svt smut #svt x reader #jun x reader #junhui smut #junhui imagines #svt scenarios #svt fic #seventeen fic #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen smut #seventeen drabbles #jun fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen hard hours #junhui fluff #jun smut #jun scenarios #junhui scenarios

[capitalisticveins]

Gavin and Guy (separate) HCs!

Reward for @free-boundsoul winning. These are my first headcanons back (this is a lie I have Solaire clan hcs i just dont know when I wanna post them) after a while of not writing so I hope these are up to standards, enjoy!

Guy once BEGGED Honey to buy tickets to see Wicked. Their job pays better than his (like infinitely better) so he couldn’t afford them. After like a week or two they caved and bought a single ticket for him.

He complained about it saying he wanted his “honey bunny booboo bear” with him and after another week of whining they caved again and bought another.

Gavin can’t stand citrus fruit but makes sure to buy some whenever he goes grocery shopping because Freelancer likes them

Gavin prefers games that are either straightforward or rocky with the meaning being unclear, no inbetween at all.

Gavin can pole dance and unlike Damien it is for sexual intentions. Only reason Freelancer doesn’t know is because they don’t own a pole.

Guy has met every character in the cast with the only exception being Caelum, Scorpius, Cicirnus, and Quinn

Yes, even Brachium. He died for like a solid 5 minutes once.

Gavin was egotistical as FUCK when he first coalesced. He thought he was just automatically better than everyone else and that’s why his relationship with Ophiuchus is non-existent

Guy has a fanclub he doesn’t know about, and Honey is the vice president of it

Guy, Geordi, and Ollie are all online friends. Guy and Geordi do know each other irl but they haven’t met Ollie

Gavin used to be teased for his long name, it’s part of the reason his name is so short now

Guy and Gavin are THE most flexible characters in the cast no I will not take any criticism at this time

Contrary to popular belief, Guy isn’t a big fan of pizza. On the rare occasion he does eat pizza though it’s New York Style

Gavin spent at least 5 hours on the internet looking for the perfect name for him when he decided to change it.

One of the many reasons Gavin doesn’t like Ophiuchus is because they keep calling him “Vindemiator” despite him saying he goes by “Gavin” now.

Guy owns a Miku binder ironically

Guy used to have those little fuzzy mohawks as a kid until he decided to get a buzz cut when he was 13 and grew it out ever since

Guy had his first tooth kicked out in a McDonalds play place

Gavin is actually pretty good at “Golf With Your Friends” after Freelancer finally got him to sit down and pay attention.

Gavin owns THREE mermaid dresses 

Guy can play the drums…he just feels like a drum guy

Guy is like…..wayyyyy too interested in the Hunting Adeline and Haunting Adeline. He doesn’t LIKE the books but he just…can’t put them down.

Neither can Honey

Gavin unironically listens to CupcakKe

Due to….habits… and him being a demon, Gavin can fit 50 marshmallows in his mouth. He doesn’t know this but Huxley would be the reason he found this out

His name was supposed to be a joke his mom made but Guy’s dad misinterpreted her intentions and told the doctor they wanted Guy to be named “Guy” with no further questions. Guy is putting him in the nursing home for this.

He was bullied relentlessly* for this in elementary and middle school 

Gavin scams kids on roblox for fun

Guy was one of these “kids” (This happened last week he completely trusted Gavin because Gavin said “trust me”)

Both Gavin and Guy like to think they can win a staring contest by closing their eyes and not opening them because “technically it’s not blinking”

Freelancer likes to let Gavin thinks he won but Honey just slaps the shit out of Guy and says “YOU HAVE TO FUCKING STARE”

*by “bullied relentlessly” he means “being asked why he was named Guy every week" with no malicious intent whatsoever

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse #redacted gavin #redacted freelancer #redacted guy #redacted honey

[wannaeatramyeon]

Can i request for Kwak jihan dating hc or oneshot?

like the reader is just the most adorable, lovable and the cutest human to ever exist and a non-fighter. She can't kick asses and is jihan's classmate who fell in love with him from the moment she saw him and has been annoying and chasing after him ever since. Soaon he soften ups to her cause she is just adorable.

He saved her from bullies/assaulters and admitted that he cares for her and they began going out! He is really protective of her as well

And bonus point if his brothers get protective of his s/o after he introduced them and maybe the grandpa too, maybe he gets threats from them often as well? Who knows.

Thank you for your precious time and effort writer-nim❣️

–🐇

Thanks for the ask 🐇! Fun fact, I'm actually super allergic to rabbits irl. And I feel so pathetic cos they ARE SO CUTE

Anyway, I have a confession to make. I didn't actually care for the Kwaks too much until ch440. Jichang is cool, but I was just too hyped with Allied and the fight scenes lol sorry don't come at me 😭😭 slight change with my HC and I... I don't know what the below is lol so sorry in advance

Kwak Jihan X Reader: Strangers to Lovers hc

Moving to this podunk town really pissed Jihan off. There was nothing to do, nothing to keep his interest

Jibeom already did all the dirty work to capture the area

Why work harder when you can work smarter. After defeating Jibeom, Jihan became No.1 in no time at all

So yep, this place is boring as shit. Until he met you

You're pretty cute but above all else, annoying. He figures for some reason, you've taken him under your wing as the new kid at school and now he can't get any peace

You follow him like a shadow, making sure he's ok with settling in, with classes and lunch. You expressed your worry over Jihan's lack of friends but he was unconcerned

The first and only time you attempted to see what he was doing after class without asking, you saw him and his brother bathing in questionable tubs of snakes and herbs, all scarred and frankly covered in blood.

You screamed and gave him some distance after that

You're good and straight laced. And maybe a little naive too. You don't get mixed up with that sort of stuff no matter how much you found yourself drawn to Jihan

And he definitely didn't need the aggro of dealing with you

But the days just felt a bit lonelier for him, the silence a little too loud until one day he saw some guys harassing you outside of school

No hesitation, Jihan saves you by beating them up. He's not one for words, he prefers action

You definitely prefer words though, and after seeing how shaken you are by the whole ordeal, he apologises for scaring you and promises to be a little bit calmer around you

True to his word, he was a little nicer

Over time, things between you began to change. Jihan seeks you out as much as you seek him out

You still teased him for his obnoxious manspreading, and he just called you annoying

Everytime you nagged him about schoolwork, he would ruffle your hair

Whenever you moaned about him being conceited, he would flick your forehead

Imagine then, your surprise when Jihan invites you to properly meet his brothers and Jichang and Jibeom refer to you as his girlfriend

Jihan doesn't refute them. You just sit there with your eyes wide trying to process what they said

When it's finally the two of you on your own, you needed to set the story straight

"Why did your brother's call me your girlfriend?"

"Do you not want to be?"

That wasn't the response you expected, but you see the sly grin on his face. He likes to take the path of least resistance and this was no exception

Why makes things harder for himself?

"I... I guess I wouldn't mind being your girlfriend,"

"Thought so"

You're beet red, but Jihan is unruffled as ever

"Fuck why are you so cute," he pulls you close, and gives you another flick on the forehead

#lookism #lookism headcanons #lookism x reader #lookism hc #kwak jihan #kwak jihan x reader #lookism fic #wannaeatramyeon #lookism manhwa #lookism webtoon

[soberrsoon]

idk if you'd be ok w this but tom kaulitz x female reader highschool au?

T. KAULITZ x READER

★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you go to high school with the tom kaulitz

★ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: mentions of alcohol, swearing, cigarettes, extreme bullying

★ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: someone had a similar req to this where reader gets bullied so i tried adding some of that into here ❤️ also i feel like i add angst to all my stories 😭 ik i’m making tom sound like a bad guy in these stories which can make people feel that way about him irl (ahem my living nightmare) but plz guys im just doing it for the angst i swear im not a tom anti haha

you’ve know tom and bill since forever, i mean the three of you have been together since elementary school. they were both really different now with tom being a massive player and bill being, well, bill. you guys were now in high school and you would like to say it got easier but it didn’t. you were constantly harassed by tom’s fangirls which was unbearable. obviously you’ve talked to tom about it but he ended up being honored that his fans were so loyal. “stay away from tom, pick me,” you hear a girl say as you walked down the hall. these girls would never say anything to your face, only spew hate from behind your back.

you ignored them all of course but it was still annoying. “your fangirls are at it again,” you said to tom as you sat down in your first hour class. “i’m flattered,” he said half-heartedly, looking down on his phone, texting. tom had been texting a lot lately and you were curious. “who’re you texting? you been at it all week,” you asked. “some girl i met last week while shopping with bill,” he said. “oh,” you replied, looking down at your desk. you’ve had a crush on tom since middle school and hearing about his new love interests really hurt. “i think she might be the one, i’m meeting with her tonight,” he said smiling, totally ignoring your sudden change of emotion.

you were silent for the rest of class and left early, leaving without waiting for tom like you usually did. you went to go confide with bill later at lunch. “ugh it’s just so annoying hearing him talk about other girls,” you said sighing. “why don’t you just confess then?” bill asked. “you don’t get, it’s way more complicated than that. i mean, he doesn’t even like me!” you said. “you never know~,” bill said. “why? did he said something about me?” you asked. “calm down, he didn’t say anything,” bill said, letting your hopes down. “ugh whatever, i’m going to class now,” you said before leaving.

you packed your bags as the dismissal bell rang, you would walk home with bill and tom since you guys lived nearby. you were still a little mad at tom but you wanted to wait for bill. you felt a water bottle lightly tap on your head and you turned around to see tom. “why’re you mad at me? is it because i talked about another girl?” he asked, smirking. “what did bill tell you?” you asked, annoyed that bill would tell tom. “what?” he asked confused. you might’ve just accidentally almost revealed your crush on tom so you quickly came up with a lame excuse. “what? no? of course not, bill told me you stole my bag of chips,” you said defensively.

“oh, yeah i forgot about that,” he said laughing. “hey guys, ready to go?” bill asked as he walked up to the two of you. “yeah, let’s go,” you said. the walk was pretty silent now as you thought of what tom would be doing with that girl tonight. it wasn’t fair that he was having all the fun meeting people and hooking up almost every night. you wanted to experience that fun too so when you got home you called your friend audrey, and asked if she knew anyone throwing a party. “oh yeah! i heard adrian’s hosting one at his dad’s house and i heard that it’s massive too,” she said. “cool! when is it?” you asked. “friday, wanna come over to get ready together?” she asked. “of course!” you replied.

it was late now and you were getting ready for bed before you heard a knock at your window, it was tom. “what do you want?” you asked. “can i come in?” he yelled from below. “whatever,” you said, walking back into your room. he quickly slipped in and laid on your bed. “she ditched me, i can’t believe her! how could you ditch such a hottie like me??” he said. “who wouldn’t?” you asked with a laugh. “what’s your problem?” tom looked at you with a serious expression now. “well let’s see, first your sho up to my house unannounced at 10pm, then you talk about your failed hookup, do i need to say more?” you asked. “you’ve been acting like a bitch lately,” he said. “i’m leaving,”

and with that tom left as quick as he came. you felt a little bad but you knew it needed to be addressed. the next day at school was rough, tom avoided you and the girls were even more relentless now as well. “what did you do to tom?” asked jessica, one of tom’s biggest fan girls. you couldn’t give her the time of day so you walked off.

“i’m not done talking!” she screamed. “i don’t care,” you replied. you weren’t having it and just wanted to go home, you were tired of everything and couldn’t take your mind off tom. you kept walking to your next class until school ended finally. you didn’t even wait for tom or bill and just went home by yourself, you even ran a little to avoid them. bill called you later and asked why you and tom weren’t talking. “some stuff happened last night and i’m honestly so tired of him now,” you explained. “come on now, you guys are like two peas in a pod!” he said. “not anymore,” you replied. you scrolled around and myspace and saw that tom had posted something. it was him at a party, probably from last night after he left your house. he was surrounded by girls which made you even more frustrated.

the party was one day away now and you were deciding your outfit, you were going to go all out. perhaps something slutty? you didn’t know yet, but you did know that you were going to get drunk and hook up. you met up with audrey to discuss friday before school started. “maybe a halter top?” she suggested. “ooh a miniskirt!” you added in. “i think i’ll wear my sequined tank top with a skirt,” she said. “i don’t know what i’m wearing yet,” you said putting your head down. “it’s okay, if you can’t find anything you can wear some of my clothes,” she said. “okay,” you said.

you walked into first hour, dreading it. you didn’t want to see tom, like at all. when you ed in, his desk was surrounded by girls as usual. one them gave you a dirty look as you walked up to your desk. you overheard what they were talking about and tom was telling them about what you said. that bitch, you couldn’t believe he was telling people, and his fangirls at that, your guys’ personal business. you knew you wouldn’t be able to live it down from them so you just put your headphones in and head down. your jaded your head when classed started and you swore you’d as tom smirking at you as the girls started dissipating.

when school ended you began walking before you felt someone grab your shoulder, it was tom and you wondered what he wanted. “we need to talk,” he said. “about what? how you’re telling your stupid fangirls about our business? they’re never going to leave me be now that they know that! but you don’t care do you? because you’re so selfish and only care about which girl you’re going to fuck next right?” you said. you left tom speechless and left before you gave him time to speak. you can’t believe you just let all your anger out on him like that. you tried not to feel bad because he deserved it but you still couldn’t help it. you quickly walked home after that’s hoping to avoid bill as well.

you wanted to drown now and never see anyone again. you took a nap and woke up to missed calls from bill, which you answered. “hello?” you asked. “______ i don’t know what going on with you and tom but it needs to end. you guys are best friends and can’t be on bad terms like this! i care about you two,” he said. “i love you bill but nothing is going to change my mind. anyways, see you at adrian’s?” you asked. “yeah whatever, bye,” he said. you put the phone down and got in the shower. it was late now but you decided to do homework before going to bed. you woke up the next, refreshed and ready, you felt very confident and ready for tonight. you met up with audrey to discuss plans and then went to first hour.

tom was already there and he waved at you, signaling he wanted to talk but you turned around immediately and went to go talk to someone else. school felt like forever but eventually it ended and you met up with audrey to go to her house. “okay, i’ll shower first and the i’ll start on makeup okay?” audrey confirmed. “sure,” you said as you sat down on her bed. soon enough she finished her shower and you got in.

the two of you finished your makeup and it was time to choose outfits. audrey ended up with a halter top and a low rise skirt while you wore a tupe top with the shortest skirt ever. you guys did hair as well and then left. adrian’s house was indeed hug and there were already people there. most were kids from school but others were from different ones too. you immediately saw tom on a couch, sitting next to a girl. you hate to say it but you were jealous, jealous that that girl wasn’t you. you brushed those thoughts away though and headed straight to the drinks you took shot after shot and drink and drink.

after a few minutes you were drunk and decided to mess around. you saw a cute boy and decided to approach him. “hey,” you said, slurring your words a little. he seemed to be i by you to by the look in his eye. “hey beautiful,” he replied. you noticed tom looking and a smile gee on your face. you took the boy into a random room and started making out with him. all of a sudden the lights turned off though and the boy got up. suddenly a bunch of girls appeared basically out of no where and started recording you half naked with their flashlights on.

they were yelling things like slut and whore. you soon recognized them to be tom’s little fangirls and you were so embarrassed. holding back tears, you got up and put your clothes back on but not before one of the girls approached you and started laughing in your face, calling you names. “you really think tom likes you? this is all your fault for breaking his heart,” she said. your tears were flowing now and you couldn’t control them, you tried to get up but one of the girls held you down. you thought it was over as the girls all started laughing and circling you until you heard a familiar voice, yet again it was tom. “what are you guys doing?” he yelled.

he shoved the girls aside and helped you up. you were no even more pissed at him since you knew this was his doing, all the fangirls, all the drama and all the gossip. you pulled your arm away from him and out your clothes on. “why are you mad at me? i get that we fought once but we usually get over it,” he asked. “are you fucking kidding me?” you asked frantically crying now and breathing heavy. “are you asking me this now? i’m mad because this is all your fault, i’m mad because the only reason this happened is because you decided to tell your fan girls our drama and i’m mad because i like you so much that i hate when you’re around other girls!” you shouted. tom was silent, only letting out a small “what?” your face was red from embarrassment and you ran out the door, straight to the exit.

you ran all the way home, as it started raining, your tears blending in. when you got home you went straight to your room, ignoring your mothers worried calls for your name. you took off your wet clothes and laid on your bed. you got a call from tom but ignored it along with calls from your other friends, you knew they all had the same question, “are you okay?” you were tired but lit a cigarette outside, looking at the moon before you dozed off to bed. the weekend passed and you stayed home during all of it. you didn’t want to go out and embarrass yourself more.

the video had now surfaced and everyone and their mothers have seen it. you were a joke now and it was all because of tom. “wake up ______ it’s time for school,” your mom said. “mom, i can’t go, you’ve seen the video right? i’m a joke,” you cried. “you’re only a joke if you let them make you out to be one. if you let them steak you down like this then you’ll never recover,” she said and she was right. even thought you didn’t want to, you got up for school. you walked into school and everyone looked at you, whispering things. you wanted to die.

tom was in first hour, sitting by himself surprisingly. you were halfway into the door before you guys made eye contact. he got up to approach but you instinctively ran away from him to go hug in the bathroom. you skipped all of first hour and hid away in a stall. you went to the rest of your classes as normal but not without being humiliated. you only went back to the bathrooms for lunch, hoping to avoid people. when school ended you were relieved. you ran out the gates and straight home. you didn’t talk to anyone all day and you avoided everyone too. you decided to do homework since you threw your phone away, hoping to avoid everything.

you were studying for hours until you heard talking ay your window. you looked down to see tom but you ignored him. the last thing you’ve antes was to see him.

he wouldn’t budge though and kept knocking. you finally opened it to tell him to go away but he had let himself in already. “______ i-,” he started but you cut him off. “look i know what you’re going to say, but just please forget what happened on friday, okay?” you pleaded. “no, i can’t. i want to say that… i really like you too ______,” you were shocked, not knowing what to do. “i didn’t know how to tell you though, so i coped by sleeping around with girls,” he confessed. “im sorry for what those girls did to you, and i’m sorry for telling them our business,” he apologized but you didn’t know whether to forgive him or not. “why?” you asked. “why what?” he said. “why did you tel them?”

“i dunno, i was jealous i guess,” he said. “oh what?” you asked. “of how good you were doing without me,” he admitted. you laughed at the irony since you weren’t actually doing as great as he thought. “are you serious?” you asked, he was silent. “i’ve been crying myself to bed all night!” you said. “i’m sorry,” tom said as he looked down. “me too i guess. i didn’t mean to say this things that night. i was pissed you were off with another girl,” you admitted. “so you weren’t mad over the chips?” he asked. “no,”

“were you serious about what you said friday night, that you like me?” he asked. “yeah…” you looked away, embarrassed. “your face is red,” he stated. “whatever,” you rolled your eyes and fell back onto your bed with tom following. you two faced each other, staring into each one’s longing eyes. “i love you,” tom whispered before leaning in for a kiss.

#no proofreading we die like men #2000s #tokio hotel #tokio hotel fanfic #tokio hotel x reader #fan fiction #2000s music #2000s fashion #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz fanfic #tom kaulitz x reader

[habeascorpseus]

when i was in 7th grade, i had my first boyfriend. corny shit, i know. in many cases i dont think middle school relationships are enough to be classified as dating- but to this day, i do firmly believe our clumsy attempts at recreating the behavior of couples barely older than us did count. there was an emotional connection there. we had met in 6th grade and bonded over fnaf and minecraft 3 animations and all those other things that people still found found entertaining in 2014.

another notable thing in 7th grade that happened was that i had discovered i was transgender. well, i say "discovered", but it was honestly a long time coming. between my obsession with being seen as a "tomboy," my favorite song on the Kidz Bop 16 CD being Beyonce's "If I Were A Boy" (but sung in a way to make it so much less about cheating that it really became more of a call to action to imagine life as a man) to the point where i manually would loop it on my cd player for hours, and my growing love for mlm shipping— i had been a certified egg since i was in 4th grade. but despite being raised around and parented with about a dozen lesbian and gay couples since birth, i didnt know whether or not my parents were transphobic or not. so, after looking through a list of trans identities, i decided to just come out as genderfluid to my parents as sort of a compromise to the intimidating rigidity of being a trans boy. and even though it wasn't entirely fitting to what i'd ultimately figure out about myself, i grew pretty attached to it.

back to the middle school boyfriend.

at the end of 7th grade— like, a week before summer vacation— i publically came out as genderfluid. while my ex, who i will from now on refer to as Lou, had initially taken it well, albeit with some confusion, over the summer, a much different series of feelings began unfolding. unfortunately, as middle school boys are wont to do whenever one of them begins to act even slightly against the norm, his friends began asking him if he was gay. "if michael¹ is a boy sometimes, does that make you straight, or bisexual?" are some of the things i later heard them ask. and since i, phoneless till the age of 16, was unable to talk to him throughout this relentless picking apart of his own identity, by the time we got back to school, things were... different.

¹ Michael is the name i went by irl for 3 years from 7th-9th grade.

for one, there were the jokes. he was a big leafy fan (and i really did try even back then to steer him away from that but its hard when youre a cringe nerd middle schooler) and back then "attack helicopter" jokes were kind of all the rage, so he began jokingly identifying as a toaster. then he made a toaster mask out of a cardboard box, spray paint, and duct tape that he brought to school and began putting on whenever i walked by him in the hallway. and then, and possibly worst of all- a simple html website shared between his friends called "what gender is Michael today?" which lead to a random generator of options like, "boy", "girl", "toaster", and "attack helicopter." all of which is kind of a lot to deal with when youre a middle schooler with a pretty rough time of it already, and suddenly your main bully is the guy youve effectively been in a relationship with for 6 months.

and now you may be asking: hey habeas, why this sudden autobiographical deep dive into the most traumatic period of your life? what spawned this? how is this story relevant to literally anything going on? well, that's where the next part of the story comes in.

that year, our sex ed teacher was a 5ft transgender man named Mudd. Mudd had a buzzcut, and a higher pitched voice, and small hands, but beyond all of that, there was nothing visibly different about him than any other boy or man in the school. in fact, the boys thought he was cool as hell. they were fascinated by the idea of transformation of the self into an unrecognizable body. they never misgendered him, even after learning his status as a trans man. in fact, they were comfortable enough around him to be transphobic towards me. and Mudd, like a good trans mentor, told them to cut that shit out, and told me that regardless of how complicated and occasionally contradictory my identity was, it was still me, and i needed to stand up for who i was as a person.

a week later, Lou called me a tranny, and in response, i punched him in the nose and promptly stopped talking to him.

so again, why is this relevant? well, I'm not sure how terminally online (or specifically, on twitter) some of you are, but recently there's been a bit of a tiff in a certain fandom about bi lesbianism. specifically, how it, as an identity, is harmful to both the bisexual and lesbian communities. which, one: nooooo....??? bisexuality and lesbianism arent separate so much fraternal twins, and I've already talked too much to include further definitions to prove it. but my argument is really less about its validity as an identity and more about the principle of there being limits to acceptance, even within our community.

like with my experience, people were fine when they were faced with binary identities. a trans man like mudd is cool, or a trans girl like Jazz Jennings (we watched a lot of I Am Jazz in homeroom) could be seen as normal, and more so, inspiring. but when i came in with an identity people found to be contradictory or "too confusing," it resulted in backlash. the entire definition of being "queer" is to be abnormal to what general society finds acceptable, and even then, some things are "too weird" to be tolerated. even amongst "weird" people. which i find to be a pretty troubling trend amongst queer leftist young people who's only real experience with an "lgbt community" has been online. here, we prioritize and find catharsis in labels and categories to the point where the "queer community" has become instead split between identities- the gays, the lesbians, the bis, the transes, the aros and aces and the whatnot. in the real world, it doesnt matter what flavor of queer you are, nobody's going to stop and ask before they call you a groomer and then legislate your freedom away. which is why we, as an online queer community, have to get rid of the notion that some identities are "too contradictory" or "dont exist" enough to be worth giving support and love.

im saying all this here... because, well, one: nobody wants to read a 40+ tweet thread about my personal brush with irl homophobia and how that radicalized me against community separation in general, and two: i am deeply afraid of 14 year olds on twitter with too much time on their hands. but also im saying this because it was infuriating yesterday to watch my entire twitter feed suddenly turn into a puritanical campaign against the very concept of someones identity and have the ability to say nothing. it disgusted me how quickly we turn against our own simply because the way they are is confusing to our tiny fucking peanut brains. and i know none of those people who went on that tirade will read this, but i felt like it needed to be said anyways.

don't let society's impulse to ostracize the confusing and strange win out over human decency. don't do conservatives' strategy to divide and conquer us for them. a person's identity not being comprehensible to you is not inherently an attack on who you, yourself, are. you are your identity and you should stand up for it, and you should stand up for others' identities too. punch your bullies in the nose.

long live the confusing, the contradictory, and most importantly, the queer.

#habeas speaks #discourse #oh no hes on a soapbox again guys look out #hey sqlumi if you see this ever i hope you know that i think youre cool as hell for giving a middle finger to the entire operation #sorry so few people jumped to your defense and that you had to delete your twitter ik how hard it is to build a following there #aaaaanyways #pinning this for a day or two just bc

[ghosttownwherenoonegoes]

Got room for one more lost sheep? // e.m x gn!reader

All thoughts, actions and feelings expressed verbally by reader as well as in the narrative are mine. Some good ol' self-insert catharsis🥰 I would have done anything to have had an Eddie in high school to help me deal with all the bullying, but I never found one. I feel like I'm still waiting for him in my mid 20s... There's time.💖 (And if I can’t find one, then I’ll keep working on becoming one. I feel like he’d appreciate that.)

TW; talks of VERY specific bullying encounters from the past (my own irl ones from high school; Jason against reader), reader is painfully shy because of said bullying but they grow into it, angst, comfort, anger (Eddie), swearing with dialogue & narrative, slow burn, love confessions, friends to lovers trope (my beloved💖).

As outlined HERE, I just wanted to talk to Eddie for five minutes so here that gush is, fully fleshed out into a fic!

Summary:

"I was always the odd one out. The freak. I had my music and my books to get me through the days but I always looked for someone like you, Eddie. I never found you."

Fingers darted across the table, slipped between your own and squeezed hard.

"I'm here now, sweetheart."

"Yeah," you dashed tears from your eyes with your other hand, "you are."

Word count: 7, 447. (my firstborn😭)

Tagging @hersweetrevenge @seafrost-fangirl @another-day-in-chuckletown @alliecheer007-88 @sabbathsworld and also @eddiebunson & @hawkinshighdropout who both gave me so much advice on Eddie’s character! Without these two, this fic would have been deleted, unfinished, and it never would have seen the light of day! and a biiiiig thank you to @gemstone-roses for reading this over for me when it was almost finished and easing my anxieties about posting!

Eddie Munson had always intrigued you, ever since you first saw him.

He was... beautiful.

You were sat across the room from him in the cafeteria, your nose in a book. Music blared through your headphones but you tried to keep your body still. If you had been at home, you would have allowed your body to move to the music; no rhyme or rhythm, just movement for its own sake as you sank into the music like it was a hot bath for your soul. But you were in a crowded canteen and you were already disliked as it was, for no 'crime' other than being yourself.

For many people, that was enough of an excuse to be a bully.

People so loved to condemn what they didn't comprehend.

You had, years ago, learned to accept that you understood yourself (sometimes, and often with much introspection), even if no one else did or bothered to even try, and that simple yet devastatingly complex truth had to be enough.

It had to be.

As you turned the page, only half reading your latest book, you felt eyes on you. You looked up and around the room, trying not to make it seem like you were looking for someone, before you caught Eddie's gaze. There was a roughness to him, most definitely some kind of edge which made you realise that you never wanted to piss him off, but there was a softness to him, too. The cruelty of the world had eroded his walls, chipping pieces of him away at a time, leaving some tender vulnerabilities which he patched over with a devil-may-care attitude. Most people took him at face value, but you saw yourself in him, and it only made you even more curious about him.

There was more to Eddie than met the eye, and you wanted to know him. You wanted to know him as well as you knew yourself, but you had never even spoken to him.

He lifted his eyebrows as you maintained the glance and you couldn't help the small genuine smile as you saw that you had his attention. Even if it was only for a moment. You weren't sure if he was surprised that you were returning the non-verbal hello or if he was asking a question with those eyebrows, but you raised a hand in a small wave. You felt embarrassed to be waving, but you didn’t want to leave Eddie hanging. So many people ignored him, and you had sworn to yourself long ago that if you were ever lucky enough to get to speak to him, you would take full advantage of any chances you found or forged… whichever came first. This instance, the very first of many, was the latter. The kind smile which you received in response was small, and those eyebrows were definitely surprised now, but Eddie waved back after looking around to make sure that you were waving at him, and not someone walking past. Something in you ached at that, and you felt compelled to finally, after months of being drawn to him, approach Eddie for yourself.

You stood up, removing your headphones, the guitar riff cut off half way through, though it continued to play in your mind, so familiar were you with your favourite songs that you could listen to them with your imagination almost note for note. You let the book close, stuffed it into your bag, dropped your Walkman in with it, and carefully made your way through the circular tables and various groups which spelled trouble for those who didn't fit into one neat little societal ascribed box. People stared at you as you did so, and you had to step over a few feet; people trying to trip you up wasn't anything new, but you weren't in the mood. You had a laser focus on Eddie, who had been nudged by one of the kids he was sitting with as they all watched you approach their table. Eddie only shook his head; it looked like he said, “it’s fine”.

No one ever approached Hellfire at all, let alone willingly, yet you had done so of your own accord.

Your courage left you as Eddie's eyes caught yours for a second time, and you faltered in your steps. Those eyebrows raised again, just slightly, and you thought that perhaps it was encouragement. Or maybe he was curious. Or maybe he was going to be rude to you like everyone else was... you shook that thought off. This was Eddie. You didn't know him that well, not yet, but you knew enough to know that he was gentler than he looked. It was a huge part of the intrigue for you, how someone who looked so intimidating could be so kind.

What sort of life had he known?

You suspected that the answer to that question would be answered by the sands of time, as all mysteries unravel with enough patience and persistence. The tapestry of Eddie Munson was undoubtedly an ethereal one, and you wanted to see it now.

Finally, you reached his table, your fingers wringing the straps of your backpack, slung haphazardly over your shoulder in your haste to do as you wanted – to stop being forced to sit on your own, either at a table or in a bathroom cubicle, and to sit with Eddie and his friends - before you could talk yourself out of it.

“H-h, Eddie. I, uh, I – may I... can I sit – I mean, may I s - “ You sighed, frustrated with yourself, and turned away from Eddie to instead look out of the window. The sun was high and it left a green cast across your vision. It burned but you didn't look away, the stinging of the bright light distracting you from the telltale sting of tears.

Why couldn't you say one fucking sentence?

You didn't need to. Eddie saw you in that moment, and he took pity on you; helped you out a bit. You had extended a very tentative olive branch, and he remembered all too well the soul deep loneliness he had been plagued with before he had cultivated his Hellfire Club. His family.

Right away, so awfully shy (scared, as he would come to discover later on, when your own tapestry began to reveal itself), you were accepted. Befriended. Eddie's heart was an open highway, despite how many more people left than those that stayed. Most people chose to avoid his roads, rather than see things themselves before making a decision. He was used to it, but he wasn’t used to this, and he wanted to make the best of it. On that, you were agreed, though neither of you knew it.

“Gentlemen,” Eddie addressed his friends as he leaned over to grab the chair right in front of you, pushing it back until the edge of the chair pressed against your front. You stepped back and the chair scraped across the polished floor, making you wince. “I think we found another lost sheepie who needs our help. Who needs us.” He waved a hand in a way you read as 'sit down'.

“Y/N.”

Eddie had to strain his ears to hear you mumbling. You were painfully anxious, practically inaudible over the cacophony of the canteen, but you had paid a high price to just come over and he wanted to make it a little easier on you. He nodded and repeated your name to himself, committing it to memory. God, your heart was trying to beat out of your damn chest, pounding a wild tattoo against the cage of your ribs. You eased yourself down slowly, lowering your bag down gently. Wanting to get comfortable but waiting for the punchline.

The jokes you didn't see being set up always hit you the hardest in the aftermath but just this once, please, could something go right for you? Of all the tables in the canteen, you wanted the people sat at this one to be it for you.

You reminded Eddie of a wild animal as he watched you join his little flock, all caution just in case a loud or sudden noise made you bolt. The anxiety was coming off you in waves and he wondered what had caused you to finally come and say hello – this wasn't the first time he had caught you staring from across the room. You were a frequent starer, had been for months, but Eddie had never confronted you about it. Your gaze wasn't... demeaning but rather... Curious, and longing. Yeah, that sounded about right. He hadn't been waiting for you, per se, but he also hadn't been surprised by this turn of events. He thought… no, he knew it was brave of you to do this. Eddie knew a lost sheepie when he saw one, even when he wasn't wearing his Bo Peep. He'd been one his entire life until he'd found a way to become for others what he'd always so desperately craved for himself.

“Why are you here?” The question was blunt, rude, spoken by a dark curly haired teenager. You could barely see his eyes through the mop of curls and you shrunk back into yourself, wincing as you gripped the edges of the stiff plastic chair. Preparing to run.

“Shut it, Wheeler,” Eddie snapped, dark eyes flashed with irritation. “We welcome all lost sheepies here.” He took a deep breath and then smiled at you, his dimples just beginning to crease the apples of his cheeks. “And what brings you to Hellfire, little lamb?” Eddie adopted his Dungeon Master voice and paired it with another grand hand gesture, wanting to make you laugh. You were still so anxious and shy, borderline scared, Eddie thought, and he wanted to ease your way. You had been so courageous already and he wanted to help you. He had done the same for everyone sat at the Hellfire table at one point or another.

It helped that the intrigue you had always felt towards him was mutual. But you didn't know that, not yet.

Eddie had to coax you out of your shell first.

“I...” You took a deep breath, fisting the material of your shirt. You noticed that he had asked you the same question as Wheeler, though it had been worded much nicer and in such a way that you felt like it was okay to ask for what you wanted. Eddie's eyes followed the movement of your hands and he smiled kindly at you, trying to get you to ease up on the nerves. Just a little more. He wondered who had hurt you, for you to be like this over something most others took for granted. “I wanted to... come over and say hi because you're... Hellfire.”

“What? That doesn't even make sense.” Mike scoffed, pushing mashed potatoes around his plate.

Eddie closed his eyes in irritation, willed himself not to snap at the oblivious teen. In time, Mike would learn, as all children must. “It does, Wheeler. Count yourself lucky you never had to find so much bravery just for a hello.”

He looked at you, his eyes full of patience, waiting for you to continue. You weren't done just yet, he could feel it.

“I... you're Hellfire. You always have so much fun over here, I can hear you from across the canteen, and I was over there on my own and I just... I want to sit here with you all and soak up the sun. I – if that's okay, I don't want to be a bother or get in your way or anything.”

Eddie shook his head. “You're absolutely not a bother, sweet thing. There's always room for more.” He caught the implication that you had just called him the sun, warm and safe... A light blush dusted his cheeks but he refused to mention it to you or anyone else.

To stop anyone from noticing his reaction to your genuine, offhanded praise, and to show you that you were welcome, Eddie turned back to the group and carried on mocking the article he was reading aloud; how dangerous the group's beloved fantasy game apparently was. If D&D was that dangerous, then it was the safest danger you would ever know. It was as if you had been there the whole time, and you marvelled at how Eddie was able to make you feel like you fit in with just a few sentences. His vibe was warm, totally against the intimidating edge he put on every moment of the school day. You wanted to know him in private life.

If Eddie was the sun, as you had described, then you wanted to bask in him.

Just like that, you were a member of Hellfire. One lunchtime at his table turned to two, then three, then four, and before you knew it, you could barely remember what it was to have to sit alone in the bathroom eating lunch, or being made to sit in the canteen where people would 'accidentally' knock into you or otherwise pretend like you weren't there. You were a cheap source of entertainment and you loathed it, but in Hellfire, no one came near you.

Eddie had somehow become your protector; a Shepard tending to his flock.

It was everything you had daydreamed about that day you had decided to be brave, just for five minutes.

Usually, when someone approached Eddie, it was for a drug sale or for something less than savoury, and he was always on edge. But with you, Eddie only felt safe. You had never given him cause for concern, in that your words and actions were an act. Your anxiety had lessened over the weeks since you had joined Hellfire (especially since Eddie had given you your own shirt after a week of sitting with the group) but sometimes you retreated back into your shell and didn't come out, no matter how gently Eddie tried to coax you. That was okay, he understood you better than anyone else in Hellfire; much of yourselves were reflected in the other person. Someone had hurt you really bad in the past, they must have done, but Eddie never ever pushed you for anything. No questions asked, no explanations needed. He was content to let everything show itself in time. He knew how to be patient.

Until the day came, several weeks later, when Jason stormed into the canteen. He was shouting something about a pep rally, but his voice flooded you with so much fear that you felt nauseous and you practically threw yourself at Eddie with a noise which made his heart shrivel up in his chest. “No, no, no, no no no no no no no no - “ Your breathing picked up and you shoved your chair as close to Eddie as you possibly could, ducking your face into his back as you pressed your hands underneath his leather jacket, clinging to him. "Please don't let him see me, please please please - "

You weren't even thinking, Eddie registered in the back of his mind. You were hiding in your pure unadulterated fear. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, hey, hey,” Eddie got out in a rush as he felt you burrow into his back, almost like you were trying to crawl inside his skin, where it was safe; the other Hellfire members looking at what little they could see of you like you had sprouted a third head, “Easy, easy, Y/N, it's okay,” Eddie reached back and rested his hand on whatever part of you was closest (he hoped it was nowhere inappropriate, though he doubted you cared), rubbing his thumb across your clothes. His tenderness with you was at total odds with the way he was glaring at Jason. Finally, the question of who had hurt you so badly in your life was answered, and Eddie had never felt as bloodthirsty with rage in his life as he did in that moment. “I've got you, sweetheart, you're safe, don't let go of me.” His dark eyes followed Jason across the canteen, passed the Hellfire Club (Eddie and Jason exchanged almost identical looks of disgust towards each other, but thankfully, Jason didn't spot you), right up to the door next to the stage as the jock left the room.

When Jason was gone, Eddie patted you, being careful with his hand because he still didn't know what was being touched. “You can come out now, little lamb,” his Dungeon Master voice usually made you giggle, but you only tightened your grip on him for but a moment before you let him go, very reluctantly, leaving Eddie's back cold and haunted by the ghost of your warm embrace. You sat up slowly, your eyes glassy with tears, and swiped your hands quickly across your face.

"Th-thank you. Sorry." You spoke both sentences quickly, as if you couldn't decide which one should be spoken first, though both were equally important for you to say. You took several long deep breaths and Eddie's fingers spidered across his lap as he searched for your hand under the table, giving you a comforting squeeze.

"He hurt you." Eddie stated slowly, his dark eyes so soft and tender that it made you want to cry. You bit down on your inner cheek and wrinkled your nose against the urge. You gave him a nod; it was all you had.

"Uh, what - what was that?" Mike's eyebrows had almost disappeared into his hairline as he and the others had watched you and Eddie interacting. You were too busy staring down at your hand, laced with Eddie's, to notice everyone sharing a look of 'holy shit' and 'what the fuck?' but no one said anything. Everyone was waiting for you and what you would choose to share with them.

"Jason scares me."

"Yeah, no shit," Someone snorted. It might have been Mike; you weren't paying all that much attention.

"He... shut me in a bathroom cubicle when I was in first year. Lured me there by asking me to do something... I think it was grabbing a book he'd forgotten or something. But I got jumped; shoved in a bathroom cubicle, which was then barricaded with... something, the fuck if I know. And they turned out the lights. Jason left me there in the dark, alone, for an entire school day. Only reason I was found was 'cause I didn't come home. My parents lost their freaking minds and ripped the school apart looking for me. And the day after, some girls shoved me into a locker... from there, it never stopped. All I had from then on were my music and my books." You sniffled and Eddie's other hand rubbed your back in fluid, slow motions. Comforting you. Briefly, you wondered if he comforted other friends like this. You appreciated how tactile he was. "Jason was always the instigator. Always. A few months after this, one of his guys asked to be friends with me. I agreed... didn't realise he'd done it as a dare. No one actually wanted to be friends with me... it was all a joke. Someone outside the group told me all about it after a few weeks and they mocked me for believing them, that anyone wanted me around. After that, I never bothered trying to make friends. Just gave up, let it happen 'til I became the freak. Had no one, really. Until... until you." You braved a small smile. "I figured if I made myself as small and as inconsequential as possible, he'd ignore me. And he does... but he scares me." You glanced at Eddie, then. "Sorry I threw myself at you."

It was the most any of them had ever heard you say in one sitting during all the time they had known you, and you felt like a small weight had been let off your chest. Eddie, who had waited patiently for you to reach the end of your tale, was almost shaking in rage. He jumped up and out of his seat, his tongue, as sharp as a blade, locked and loaded. All four guys sat at the table were watching him, their eyes wary; Eddie was gonna fight, he was gonna start something in your name, and he was going to get kicked out again. They had almost had one lunch time without Eddie causing a huge scene; while they enjoyed it when he did, they all knew that the consequences got worse for Eddie for every senior year re-run. Eddie was about to physically fight Jason and while the dude had it coming, did Eddie really have to do it now?

At least, that's what would have happened in any other instance.

Except you flinched.

You flinched away from Eddie, you ripped your hand out of his, when seconds ago you had thrown yourself into him, and Eddie swore under his breath, his fists trembling as he sunk back down in his seat. Nope. He couldn't fight. You flinched. He took several slow, deep, measured breaths, actively calming himself down, and then when he looked at you, there was a tender look in his chocolate eyes. He didn't want you to be scared of him, of what he was capable of. He wanted to comfort you, though his first instinct was to protect you by way of doing unto Jason as was done to you.

Eddie couldn't get your reaction out of his mind's eye and all at once, he was again reminded of the way you had resembled a wild animal that very first day, practically asking Hellfire Club to adopt you as one of their own. You didn't need Eddie to fight for you. You needed him to fight with you. More deep breaths and then Eddie calmed down, down...

"For the record," everyone looked at Eddie, mixed expressions on their faces, "you can always throw yourself at me, sweetheart."

It worked; the tension was defused, chuckles were released with some of that, but the atmosphere around the table was still a tad solemn. And Eddie was now and forevermore on what he would later call Jason Patrol.

Eddie hadn't attacked Jason that day in the canteen, but his protectiveness over you had amplified as he had sworn to himself and to you, that you would never be harmed again.

These were the times over the next few months where Eddie's feelings for you grew, just as yours did for him. You started to see Eddie everywhere; he would be coming from the opposite direction and you'd smile at each other, but then moments later he'd be on the other end of the corridor, slightly out of breath and greeting you like you hadn't just seen him. He was like a lost puppy, trying and failing to not let you catch onto him.

Once or twice, he'd come up to you and grab your face, almost smushing your cheeks together. No words would be said but the eye contact would be intimate, Eddie's dark eyes and gentle but firm, hot grip, not letting you turn your face away. There would be some kind of reassurance in his eyes and you would relax, though he wouldn't let you look around. The lengths of time he held you like this varied, but the same signal occurred every time. Dustin would pat Eddie's shoulder - Jason's gone - and the tension would melt out of his body, he'd blink, and in an instant go from serious back to his usual self.

The subject was only broached to you once more, as the school term was ending and Eddie's campaign was reaching a conclusion. Just a throwaway comment but to you, it kick-started your want to make Eddie aware of how grateful you were for and to him.

"Hey, uh, something else for the record," Eddie gestured right at you with a pretzel held like a guitar pick, "I would have noticed you missing, and I would have found you that day, I promise." He shoved the pretzel in his mouth, crunched down on it hard, and once again, his serious melted away as he nodded his goodbyes.

You remained at the table with Dustin and Mike after Eddie left to go secure a deal out by the benches, and slammed your head against the plastic table.

“Why can't I just – fucking – tell – him - “ Every word was punctuated with a bang against the table.

Dustin messily shoved his hand between your forehead and the table. “Holy shit!” He used his hold on your head to push it up so that he could look at you. “Stop doing that. Here, look,” Dustin leaned over with a glance at Mike, who just shrugged. “You gotta tell Eddie. This is the kinda thing he'd want to know.”

“But, Dustin - “ You pushed back against Dustin's hand, making as if to hit your head again, and then leaned fully back until the kid lowered his hand. You shot him a small smile, thank you. “It's Eddie. I can't tell him. What if he doesn't believe me or doesn't want to know what I want to tell him?”

“And... what – what do you want to tell him?” Mike folded his arms over his chest, his dark brows furrowed in confusion as he and Dustin glanced at each other. Dustin had always been the most emotionally mature of the kids in Hellfire, and the relationship he and Eddie had was very familial; Dustin was touchy-feely with Eddie and Eddie was the very same back. No one interacted with Eddie the way Dustin did, and vice versa.

You took a deep breath. “All of it?”

Dustin waved his hand in a movement very much like Eddie. “Lay it on us.”

“Like... what kind of pretzels does he like? Those soft doughy ones which you gotta hold in two hands or those small hard ones he has at lunch? What guitar riffs in which Metallica songs make his heart bleed? Which lyrics made him who he is today? What's his – what's his bedtime routine? Does he have a morning routine? Is he... what Iron Maiden songs does he like? Not like? What about Black Sabbath? What are his favourite songs? Would he choose Ozzy over Black Sabbath if he had to, or the other way around or would he rather die? Is there a fourth option in that ridiculous scenario? I want to know what temperature he likes his food, how he takes his coffee, I want to know what his favourite things about planning campaigns are... how does he get started? How does he know when it's done? What song did he listen to this morning? What was the last one he remembers last night? What tattoo design is his favourite? Which one hurt the most? Why did he put them there on his body and not somewhere else? I want to know Eddie inside out, back to front and all the other ways. Like, if he was the ocean, I'd want to dive in. Get lost in him, you know?”

“Uhh... You get really talkative when it involves Eddie.” You weren't sure if Mike ever didn't have his eyebrows raised and you shrugged, flowers blooming inside your chest as warmth spread through you. You smiled, felt your face getting hot, and felt yourself becoming shy as you looked out of the window towards the forest. You couldn't deny it, not just to yourself but to anyone who bothered to learn, but how could you ever bring yourself to tell Eddie? It would probably ruin everything the two of you had together, and you would rather have Eddie as your best friend than you would not have him at all, all because you couldn't keep your feelings to yourself. You had done so well to get this far, you didn't want to jeopardise it. You ignored the part of you which wondered if Eddie felt the same way. That wasn't a road you wanted to even think about going down. Not now, and if your fear got your way, maybe not ever.

“Holy shit,” Dustin breathed, “You love Eddie. Like, a lot. That's it, Y/N, you need to tell him. Eddie will want to know. He won't care how you tell him, just that you do.” Dustin waved his hand, as if to consider the deal done.

You were going to have to confess to Eddie. The thought terrified you, excited you, made you feel like you shouldn't have stolen some of Eddie's pretzels as your stomach churned. “But, Dustin - “

“No! Y/N, you don't know Eddie like I do. You gotta tell him. Eddie's always had it rough but this? This will be...” Dustin shook his head, “Why didn't I see this before? He would be upset if you didn't tell him. Pretty sure he feels the same way.”

“Wh-what?”

Mike shrugged, his dark eyes amused. “Don't see him holding anyone else's hand under the table, do you?”

Dustin giggled, and you were almost mystified.

The topic was dropped as the lunch bell rang to signal that classes were resuming, and you thought that that was it.

You should have known that Dustin wasn't the type of person to let things go. He wanted Eddie to know that he was loved, so much, by you, the one who had risked it all in the name of wanting a new friend. You and Eddie had always been drawn to each other, and Dustin wondered what Eddie would give him as a favour once he got together with you. Dustin would be owed big time for this. Dustin wanted Eddie to be happy and he wanted you to be happy, and so he got to scheming.

The next day, Dustin filled Mike in on his plans.

“Dude, who cares? Let them work it out thems - “

Dustin sighed, shaking his head at Mike's nonchalance. “Really? Do you really think Y/N's gonna tell Eddie anything? They're still so shy but they really get going when it involves Eddie. Just – follow my lead, all right? I'll get Eddie in the room, you get Y/N talking. Eddie will take the opening given to him – you know what he's like. He just needs a single word from Y/N and he'll take the lead.” Dustin saw that Mike was still sceptical, and he threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “Look, just start talking. Ask Y/N about Eddie, boom, they'll do everything they need to and not even know about it. It'll come out easier and then they can quit pining over each other.”

Mike wasn't happy about going along with the plan, but if he didn't do it, then someone else would. And it was free entertainment, so what the hell?

The time until lunch for the boys dragged but then the bell rang and Dustin's plan was set into motion as he raced to Eddie's class - Mrs O'Donnell's. The two walked to the canteen together, exchanging pleasantries or a comfortable silence, before Dustin stopped Eddie at the door.

"How do you feel about Y/N?"

Eddie blinked in surprise once, twice, and his response came out in one long breath. He'd held onto his truth for too long. "I am... So totally into them, man, it's not even funny."

"It's just, Mike and I were talking to 'em and there's something they wanna tell you but they're shy about it so we were gonna - " Dustin made a vague gesture with his hands.

Eddie listened as Dustin filled him in. Intrigued, cautious, but willing to listen. "All right, man. I'll... Yeah." What else could he say to something so cryptic?

Dustin shot Mike a thumbs up from across the room and the darker haired teen rolled his eyes, dumped his backpack on the floor as he made his way over to the lunch line. Eddie and Dustin followed, making sure to stand within earshot but outside of your immediate line of sight.

Eddie only needed to hear you.

"So, uh," Mike caught Dustin's eyes over your shoulder, "do you... Wanna practice telling Eddie with me?"

You shook your head. "No, it's... I can't tell him. I won't."

Mike frowned. "Why?"

You smiled. "He's Eddie." It sounded like everything and nothing all at once, but it was the best explanation you had.

"Yeah, but," Mike poked around at his food. How did someone manage to burn sweetcorn? "You had so much to say yesterday. Tell me again what you wanna know? Maybe I can help you out. I've known him longer than you have."

Eddie had a look of concentration on his face, his dark eyes glued to your back. Dustin hid his smile behind a crooked knuckle, teeth gnawing at his skin. Come on, Y/N... Be brave for another five minutes. Eddie needs this and you do too.

You sighed. Everyone involved heard the wistful undertone. "I just - " You sighed again, frustrated that you couldn't just say it, but then it all flooded out of you, "I just want Eddie to know I love him. And - and if he was an ocean, then I'd want to dive in and get lost. I want to know, like, does he like doughy pretzels or the small crunchy ones? Which Black Sabbath songs are his favourite and does he prefer Ozzy as a solo artist or with Sabbath? How does he do his hair? How did he fix that chain to his jacket? What patches does he prefer - ones you sew, iron or glue? What's his favourite thing about being a Dungeon Master? Does he have a thing he doesn't like about D&D and if so, how does he work around it? Or does he do it anyway for the love of the whole? I just... I want to know Eddie so I can love him properly, the way I already do but in such a way that he can't possibly question it because it's right in front of him. But I couldn't tell him... it'd ruin everything. And it'd put pressure on him to say something back and then it could go wrong and I'd... just rather love from afar than try close up and get burned, you know? Eddie burns so hot. I said it to him when we met but... he's like the sun. He makes me feel warm, safe... he makes me feel like myself. I love him so much, Mike, I - "

Eddie couldn't take it anymore.

He stepped out from where he was hiding with the biggest, goofiest smile on his face, the apples of his cheeks heavily creased. The blush on his face was very obvious, and he tugged a thick lock of his dark hair over his mouth, hiding even as he said, "So, uh... do you - do you really mean that, Y/N?"

Mike may as well have thrown ice cold water all over you.

You froze, a deer in headlights. Still, you found it within you to nod. What would be the point of lying? Immediately, Dustin's plan became clear to you, and though you were grateful to him for doing what you had not the courage to do, you were scared. Of Eddie. Of what he would - or wouldn't - say, as the case may be. You felt sick, shot Dustin a look of 'what the fuck do I do?'

Once again, he had your back.

Dustin cleared his throat. "Take Y/N to the benches, Eddie. You can... talk." A tight smile, a sarcastic comment held back. He wanted to tease the two of you, but he remembered how he and Suzie had been initially, and so he refrained. This wasn't the time or the place. He could get Eddie for it later. But for right now... talking.

Eddie gave Dustin a look of brotherly pride. Fuck, he loved that little shrimp. Didn't know why all of the time, but Dustin shined in moments which required emotional maturity and intelligence. Mike could learn a lot from Dustin. He needed to. "Yeah, dude," Eddie nodded, shouldered his bag. His other hand reached out for yours, gave you a comforting squeeze. His fingers laced in yours was so familiar a sensation, physically and emotionally, that it relaxed you even in this situation. The effect he had on you was insurmountable.

And now he knew.

Shit, shit, shit.

"C'mon, sweetheart, let's go somewhere where it's just us. We'll be safe there."

You would follow Eddie anywhere, so with cheeks burning, eyes on the floor, you did as he directed. You felt safety in the way Eddie was taking the lead, in the way this situation had been orchestrated. You had wanted to tell him so badly but you hadn't had it in you, so your friends had helped you yet again. Already, you were devising ways in which you could thank them.

In forever but also no time at all, Eddie had you at the bench where he did his deals; you sat, knees bouncing and looking everywhere but Eddie, and he let his hand slip out of yours. You flexed your fingers, palm cold, empty, and you took your own hand. The feeling wasn't anything near what it felt like to hold Eddie's hand, but it was good enough a method to ground you. Keep you brave.

"Y/N, hey," Eddie's voice was soft, almost a hush, as if he was afraid to disturb the moment, to disturb you. "Look at me, please? You don't, uh - you don't have to speak. Just look."

You dared - you dared - to do as Eddie asked, and the breath left you all at once. Fuck, you had never seen his eyes so dark, so intense. He was looking into you and he laid his hands on the bench, palms up, fingers rubbing against themselves. You copied him and Eddie smiled as he read you like a book, once more locking your fingers with his own and squeezing in comfort, reassurance.

"So, I, uh - " Eddie chuckled awkwardly, looked away and into the trees, "How - how much of that did you mean?" The fact that he was asking you the same question twice in two different ways spoke of the real untold truths about his self-opinion and worth. It made your heart ache and then it was your turn to squeeze his hand in comfort.

"All of it." Fuck it, you were diving in headfirst. The first step was always the worst, the scariest, and you were over that hurdle now. Dustin had practically shoved you across the obstacle and left you to find your footing, but Eddie had been there on the other side, hand outstretched, ready to meet you halfway. Where he found you.

Silence fell, you and Eddie toying with each other's fingers and exchanging small awkward smiles.

Suddenly, Eddie flung himself backwards off the bench, making you gasp and jump up, an incredulous laugh on your lips at the awkward, endearing way he sat himself up, golden leaves all in his hair and dirt across his shirt. He dusted himself down, smirking; a way to lighten the mood, defuse the tension. He was so good at getting you to relax, at getting you to listen to yourself, and he didn't have to do anything other than to be himself... and wasn't that what you had always been drawn to, what you had always loved about him?

"I like smaller pretzels, for the record. Uhh, can't choose between Ozzy solo and Sabbath, I'd rather cut my hair to a buzzcut again instead of choosing between them and you know I love my hair," Eddie was pacing, listing off things he could remember from your speech in the canteen, "my routines for the morning and night are that there are no routines, I wing it. Just like I'm doing now." A beat and then, "what song were you listening to that day in the canteen, when you came over to Hellfire?"

You didn't have to think about it, your chest tight as you finally got some answers to your burning questions. But the more curiosity Eddie sated, the more you had, and you wanted to just get inside Eddie's mind, to become one with him so every part of him was with every part of you, and you could have every truth within him all at the same time. So you'd never be away from him. "Sabbath's War Pigs."

Eddie gave you an appreciative look, surprise etched across his face, and you grinned at each other, both of you finding your normal footing again. He was Eddie and you were Y/N; at your cores, you would always be these people. Best friends and lovers; the ultimate combination.

"Eddie, I... there was something I didn't share that day." You paused, asking for permission to elaborate. Eddie made a show of getting comfortable, resting his chin on his hand and gazing at you. He had all the time in the world for you, with you. He wanted to seize every second. "I was always the odd one out. The freak." Your eyes burned with tears; you didn't fight them. This was all too much and yet, not enough. "I had my music and my books to get me through the days, of all those things you know happened to me, but I always looked for someone like you, Eddie. Someone to protect me, to help me help myself. I'm not so good at that." You smiled sadly. "I never found you."

Fingers darted across the table, slipped between your own and squeezed hard.

"I'm here now, sweetheart."

"Yeah," you dashed tears from your eyes with your other hand, "you are." You couldn't speak anymore. Eddie had taken you to the point where words had run dry and all you could do was feel. "Things are better with you. You're my best friend and I'm so scared you're - "

Eddie tilted his head, eyes sharp. Considering. All at once, he realised he hadn't told you his own feelings and his eyes widened almost comically large as he sought to rectify the situation. "No, I, uh," he chuckled, "I feel the same as you, Y/N." At your look of doubt, he insisted, "no, really. Jesus, the moment I saw you sitting at the table on your own, I knew you were someone special. Did I know how special? No!" He scoffed, "Fuck no! But I knew. That's gotta mean something, Y/N. You're safe here with me, I promise you, and I don't just mean here," he patted the bench for emphasis, "I mean here, too." He leaned over and rested his hand in the air just above where your heart would be; grazing your shirt but not touching you.

Eddie had never needed physical touch to be able to reach your soul.

You both had music in common, and that gave him an olive branch to extend to you. "Listen, I - " he scratched the back of his neck, all bravado gone, "Do you maybe wanna come back to my castle and I'll play some stuff for you? You've never heard me before and I wanna share - " Eddie looked away, the apples of his cheeks giving away the wide grin he was trying to hide from you, " - that stuff with you, so."

You nodded, heat spreading across the inside of your forehead, your stomach swirling, "I'd love to! On one condition." Your smile was building in tandem with Eddie's anticipation, his eyebrows raised in question, "Take me to your next show? I hear Corroded Coffin is the hottest band in town."

Eddie's grin couldn't be contained or restrained; it took over his whole face. You giggled in the face of his happiness and felt it brewing in you, too. The both of you had always been drawn to each other, but neither of you could ever have expected this. In a flash, Eddie was up and out of his seat, around the bench, and throwing his arms around you in a tight bear hug.

"You are something else, Y/N!"

You would have said the same about Eddie, if he hadn't squeezed you so hard that he stole the breath from your lungs.

Oh, well. There was always time.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x gn!reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things 4 x reader

[anti-katsuki-lounge]

Y'know... I wish people would understand that fiction is just that- fiction- and you're allowed to engage with it and enjoy it as you see fit (with certain boundaries, of course.) You're allowed to enjoy evil characters, taboo topics, disgustingly rotten premises as you see fit in fiction because it is just that- fiction. It's a safe way to experiment with something because it doesn't actually involve you. Enjoying disturbing media does not mean that you condone those actions IRL. At. All.

That's why tags and trigger warnings exist. That's why tags like "tw:toxic relationship" or "tw:abuse" or more explicit tags exist.

The difference between fans who enjoy and peruse such media and toxic bkg stans (specifically the toxic ones or just the naive ones, shh) is that the former are aware of the situation and their involvement, but the latter are either very naive and/or delusional tbh.

Stans like the latter firmly believe that bkg is genuinely means the people around him no harm and cares deep down inside. They are completely convinced by what is told to them instead of what is shown. It's people like these that genuinely believe bkdk is canon, that hori will make it happen and will align the fucking stars with their bare hands and hold your unborn children hostage in an attempt to convince you that it's a healthy relationship. It's not. It's not. It's really not.

bkg is a bully. He is crass, he is rude, he's downright cruel and insanely selfish. He's borderline narcissistic (I don't like to throw around that word and diminish it, but it's the truth.) He hurt Izuku with the intention of hurting Izuku. He found pleasure in it. He found pleasure in it, god. Hurting Izuku made him happy. Hurting Izuku made him feel confident, superior. Would you do that to your loved ones lmao?

I've met bkdks who go "yeah that's fucked up but I kinda like it" and?? That's so cool?? If you saw him irl you'd bury him, you understand that it's toxic but you enjoy the spice and that's okay! It's great that you understand that boundary!

And then I've met bkdks like dekachhan lmfaoo 😭

I swear they're a hivemind, this one person argued with me for four hours even though I told them I didn't want to engage any further within the first twenty minutes. When I blocked them on one acc they literally contacted me with another. And a third. A third. Who DOES that 💀

Who has the patience for that shit? And all to tell me bkdk is healthy?

When I compared the fuck to endeavour they defended him too because Rei apparently tripped?? What the fuck is going on?? I'm genuinely so confused

I say this sincerely- if you like toxic characters and are down bad for them, that is entirely, entirely your prerogative! Read that smut, write those fics, peruse all those tags. Discuss those things with other people who feel the same way you do as long as they're not too young and they consent to it- genuinely, if you wanna fuck endy bkg, fantasize all you want. Do it in fiction. You wanna write dreadfully toxic fics? Do it! Your prerogative!

Just stay in your fucking lane, your goddamn tags and don't harass people. You're h*rny, that's fine, stop making it everyone else's problem, sheesh.

All of this. Like I’ve said before, if you like a character for whatever reason, that’s completely valid. There are toxic and evil characters I like. The issue is when you try to force your beliefs onto other people or are so disillusioned by your headcanons that you can’t tell the difference between canon and fiction.

#anti katsuki bakugou #anti bakugo katsuki #anti bakugo #anti bakugou #anti bakugou katsuki

[fishtre]

Why do you not like Jason as a crime lord? I don't think I've met any fans who don't. You don't have to answer this if you don't want to. Thanks.

Thanks. Loaded question but who reads DC comics and doesn’t love to rant once in a while?    

People who want Jason to be a crime lord are a mixed bag, anon. From my experience, some are nostalgic of when Jason was a villain; they want this to be the hill on which Jason fights Bruce & co (and dies on). Some are just severely naive fans. Some are fans who want Jason to stars in gangster stories, etc... Nothing that interest me.

1. I'm okay with Jason killing traffickers and dealers, but not him becoming one.  That’s an actual deal-breaker for me. 

2. I don't want to see Jason becomes what he hates for no reasons.  

Beating dealers and crime lords, making them afraid to deal drug to kids... Jason achieves nothing as a glorified drug dealer that he can't accomplish as a vigilant. Affiliating RH to organized crime is more of a dead weight and a moral liability to his character than anything else.  

Also, anyone who think Jason is an actual crime lord in UTRH is basically telling me they don’t have enough reading comprehension to read/watch UTRH or a dictionary at this point. (More about that below the cut if you care.)  

3. Jason being turned into a crime lord is not going to magically solve how DC portray him. 

DC will never let a crime lord be the solution to crime their heroes can’t be, or imply that what Gotham need is a "good crime lord", or that such concept even exists... That shit is irl harmful. Such direction can only validate DC when they'll portray him as a scumbag or a cautionary tale; "he who fights monsters become the monster" and "Batman was right about Jason being a bad apple all along".   

I hope this delayed answer clear things, anon.  

 * 

A crime lord is someone who run and lead a criminal organization for profits. It’s the literal definition. Aside when Jason shortly takes over Penguin’s club during Rebirth RHATO, calling him a crime lord is a misconception or simply an informed attribute. UTRH never refers to Jason as being a crime lord. The flanderization happens after UTRH and my best guess is that DC went there to mark a distinction for their readers. So, they do not confuse RH (a vigilant but also a full-fledged villain for the rest of post-crisis continuity) and the ideal(ized) vigilantes Batman & co, whom readers should root for.   

So, yeah... Jason isn't a crime lord in UTRH.    

The only thing Jason leads there is his own operation, much like any vigilant. He blackmails actual kingpins into paying him so they stop working for BM. A "subscribe to my protection and policy or die" sort of deal. Then he kills and arsons underlines and stocks of the traffickers he didn't rope in. The goal is to weaken Black Mask’s empire, N°1 crime lord in Gotham and it's not to overtakes him.

RH has no hands in the drugs operations or business. He never touches that. He has no plans for some expansion or unification too. The actual crime lords in the story regards him as a madman, a big bully and a thug. He would have let that kingpin he roped in by force get burned alive by BM’s men if he didn’t have to pretends and keep BM’s manpower divided.  

I can't remember or care to check if the whole "regulate the drug market to control it” is fanon or also a direction that pop-up later in post-crisis. But UTRH!Jason isn’t leading a criminal organization. He’s leading a scorched-earth policy. There's no regulation of anything aside the "no child rule", and RH never claims such. He’s stirring shits in Gotham’s underworld, pocking at a hornet's nest, to get Batman's attention. UTRH is the story of a ghost coming back to haunt Bruce/Gotham.

If you go with the movie version, Jason also stirs things so BM pulls Joker out of prison and get his hands on the clown. Potentially, this is why Jason use the moniker of RH. If BM goes to Joker for help, it’s because he thinks Joker may know who RH is, or is behind all this, since the clown once used that alias himself.  

RH has no regard for any criminals involved, while actual crime lord Jason entails that Jason employs and works with a bunch of people who makes a living of smuggling and selling drugs. That he makes a profit over addictions and trafficking and he feeds that industry on some level. Regardless of how you justify this choice or not, he becomes an active wench in poisoning society and not just the underworld.  

That's a BIG side-step from what RH does in UTRH, and worse, in complete contradiction with his character or motives prior to his death.  

Drugs, thugs, dealers destroyed his childhood, his mother's life and jeopardized his by proxy. Jason doesn't idealize criminals or heroes. He doesn’t see anything moral about being a vigilant and thus don’t see a point in Bats’ “being better than them” mantra. Moral =/ Justice. His whole schism with Bruce steams from that.

So no, I’m not enthusiast about seeing Jason work with people he loathes, or turn into something he hates. For no real gain, again because he can do the same as a vigilant not affiliated to the drug business.To be clear, DC will never let him solve crime, obviously, but if turning Jason into a "he who fights monsters become the monster" villain so the moral can be "Bruce was right all along" isn't the point, going back to UTRH or crime lord Jason is not a viable direction.  

That's about cover my thoughts on the subject. :p   

#reply #jason todd #didn’t plan to answer this at first #but i'm tired

[yumyumlum]

Headcanon: Sonic Is Actually Eggman's Foster Kid IRL - Fluff! Angst/Feels! Emotional Robotnik & Sonic

Ok, so hear me out! It's not the typical Sonic & Eggman plot that you would think.

(Music choices throughout this post.)

Augustana - I Still Ain't Over You

Sonic (not his real name) is actually an orphan child in the foster system, who nobody can control because of his ADHD, abandonment and anger issues.

Sonic's whole 'hedgehog' persona is just a projection of his more private identity. A hyperactive hedgehog, because he can be spiky and unsociable at the best of times, hides (shuts the world off) when he's nervous or shy and attacks with raised self defence.

He is a survivalist / wild child who was probably forced to move often to avoid social workers (capture.) He stays up all night, then doesn't want to get up in the daytime, hates the cold (hibernates/doesn't want to get up) and has a poor 'child's diet' (when he's in charge.) He wasn't cared for properly, so has a lot to learn.

Sonic's friends are actually either fellow orphans or local people he's met along the way; Tails a bullied child with no friends because he's different, so he's hidden his own personality away like Sonic (two tails / tales.)

Music: Blue Light - Mazzy Star

Dr 'Eggman' (the kids pet name for him, see notes at the bottom of this post) is actually Sonic's foster-father-to-be / on-and-off, working through a lot of issues with Sonic.

With many similarities they are curious about one another, and make a great team. But neither wants to disappoint the other and there's still loads of growing/improvement to consider, especially as Sonic has behaviour problems.

Robotnik (actually a company name) is Sonic's projection of a highly educated adult; he appears to have unlimited power (due to his ability to do almost anything), so Sonic is nervous and mistrusting of him. He is obviously wealthy, and Sonic has learned not to trust higher class people, as they're often the most judgemental.

Sonic also doesn't like the way that he (himself) has turned out, so withdraws inside himself a lot. He (internally) compares himself to others a lot, overthinking his own expectations and then burning himself out, or feeling like a failure.

Music: Fade Into You (Edit) - Mazzy Star.

His view is that anyone who has the power to change the world, when it is so perfect when it's natural, can't be that good a person. Sonic is a very simple, natural, peaceful individual, not overly keen on the adult world or things designed to overcomplicate matters.

As he learns more about Robotnik, he starts to let him in a little more. Robotnik, is quite a loner and grew up not dissimilar to Sonic, having to fight for everything and turn away from others, which catches Sonic's attention.

He tries to be there for Sonic and break down that wall he constantly keeps putting up, but Sonic won't let him. His anger and abandonment issues often stem from constant rejection he got, so he shuts everyone out.

Music: 3 a.m. - Gregory Alan Isokov

When Sonic is upset, he'll storm out into the night and stay out late, often in bad weather and in the rain, holed up somewhere. He'll go to a bad place to make himself feel bad, like he deserves to be there.

He doesn't want to get used to normality (a kind atmosphere), because the drop will be overwhelming for him when 'things go wrong.' He fully expects to see himself living on the street alone for the rest of his life, because there is no other life and he is meant to be in control of his own destiny. He doesn't rely on anyone for help.

That way he can't be disappointed because he doesn't expect anything better.

Eventually Robotnik has to go out looking for him. He has learned not to chase him, otherwise he just pushes him away more and runs further away.

One time Sonic properly disappears, and he's worried sick about him. He can't sleep, he sits up by the phone all night incase he's lost or stuck somewhere.

Turns out that Sonic ran away so that he wouldn't hurt anyone anymore, blaming himself for everything. See if he could get the courage together to end it all so that he wouldn’t be a problem anymore.

After a long few days walk, he'd eventually stumbled upon a partially collapsed, abandoned tower block overgrown and reclaimed by nature. It was night, he'd taken shelter from the storm, soaked through and hungry. He had tripped and fallen on something sharp like wire, and had torn his leg up and couldn’t walk.

Not wanting to return home like a loser, he'd soldiered on and curled under some newspaper to keep warm. As he moved, the stone floor gave way and he fell through onto the next floor, furniture slamming against him. His joints were hurting from the broken stone he was laying on, his back and neck were killing him, and he was in real trouble.

One of the items that Sonic had taken with him, was a picture of them together... and he'd torn it in half to keep Robotnik's side. So it's like they've been torn apart.

Which is probably what kills the doctor the most; they were so close to fostering again / adoption, and it's like a confirmation of 'I've lost him!' And on opposite ends of the scenario, they both cry a little bit. He just wants to know where Sonic is, that he is ok.

The waiting is the hardest part. It's killing him, not being able to take care or protect him and imagining the worst things that could happen to a child by themselves.

Sonic holds the photo close to himself, so that he won't be alone when the end comes, and whimpers I love you... dad.

(Spoiler: He doesn't die. It’s quite by accident that he’s discovered. There’s a light or a loud noise that attracts attention, and soon after he’s found unconscious and really out of it)

And as he’s floating away in his dreams… he hears his mother singing (Music: You Are My Sunshine - Jasmine Thompson), and there’s blinding white light, and spooky dark light and he’s floating through a tunnel, getting further and further away from his body…

There’s a suggested scene that he’s dying, but he’s being healed (spiritually) by his dead mother. In reality, Robotnik has rescued Sonic, and has fought for his life in every way he can, and is sitting by Sonics bedside just praying, stroking his hand and singing gently to him. So it’s his foster dad he can hear in his dreams.

And I think Robotniks ‘hayfever’ is suddenly playing up something terrible. He’s not one to cry, but he is so broken. If Sonic dies, he won’t be able to stand it.

-

I want big soft egg dad and tooth rotting fluff between the two of them.

Lots of love and tickles between them when Sonic is better :3 He is just going to absolutely cover Sonic with his love, f the no-touching rule. He loves him too much for that.

BEHIND EGGMAN'S NAME

Sonic is a simple little animal at heart right. So when he calls him Eggman... it's actually more to do with the fact that he's like his mum and dad all rolled into one because he doesn't have a mum anymore...

Like 'male mother.' And he associates eggs with birds and other such animals, like hens. The chicks are kept warm and safe in the eggs, and the mother hens brood over them. So he's seeing Eggman as a broody loving male mother who's keeping him safe and warm.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic fandom #sonic fanfiction #sonic headcanons #sonic boom #sonic movie #sonic series #dr robotnik #robotnik #dr ivo robotnik #dr ivo eggman robotnik #dr eggman #eggman #ivo robotnik #ivo eggman robotnik #doctor eggman #doctor ivo robotnik #doctor ivo eggman robotnik #doctor robotnik #robotnik family #sonic & robotnik #sth

[shankschewtoy]

hello! i got to say, i really love your works for swapped au like 😩😩😩😩

and i was wondering how the worst gen trio and the monster trio react to reader-san apparently having a first mate or ally who basically is them? and by that, i mean like... has the same personality as them.

meanwhile, reader-san is just easily tolerating and going with them easily.

example is law-like character making plans and they either help them/him with their/his plans and even follows them (unlike a certain someone), zoro-like character who often naps and both of them just have nap sessions anddd lastly, (your favourite victim) kid-like character who is usually cocky and easily angered and reader-san's there easily calming them/him down.

ps. another thing for kid-like character is that they often cheer for him in the background when he starts unnecessary fights before pulling him away when it gets too far or when they think it's enough.

pss. god, imma say it again, i love your works. keep up the good work, sweetie *another spiderman with a camera meme*

a/n - ah yes. My favorite victim 💀 pls I cackled at this anon- tysm I’m so glad you like the au as much as I do- 💜 Aw- I appreciate the Spider-Man meme 🥺 I’ll smile for the camera just for you ✨ I love this idea so much you have no idea😭😭 sorry this took so long- this is wayyyyyyy overdue

Warnings ⚠️ - g/n reader, another daily reminder that I bully kid to no end 💀, swapped au

That’s me?

Zoro

- Zoro has never had an imagination until just now

- Everytime he naps, he imagines you resting your head on his shoulder like you do in the anime with your first mate

- He actually ends up disliking them because it’s not actually him in the anime 💀

- Bitch better move it’s Zoro’s turn 🙄

- but now? He has situations to imagine in his head before he goes to sleep

- He tries to think that it’s him in the anime and not your first mate who’s literally an exact copy of him

- But guess what? The character has the exact same hair and eyes as Sanji 💀

- He hates Sanji with a passion now

- How dare he steal his soulmate???

- Man will never forgive Sanji for what he’s done 😭

- also he never tells Sanji the details

- So Sanji is always so confused why Zoro gives him the nastiest look when that character comes on screen

- Sanji loves this character, he thinks they’re very cool :)

- This makes Zoro hate them even more 💀

Law

- Law is so creeped out

- gives him that really weird, gross feeling when someone’s exactly like him, especially if they’re close to YOU

- god he’s so jealous 😭

- He pouts when he watches a scene with you two now

- *that should be me..* sassy crossing leg thingy he did in the new episode

Law wears heels. this means something- 👀 the furry thingy on his coat reminds me of corazon’s 🥺

- no law is not happy. Not happy at all.

- man hopes that the character will die at some point 💀

- He’s so rude

- “See? He can’t win this fight, he’s gonna lose.”

- Character wins*

- “Fuck you Oda.” -Law 2022 (oda is amazing ✨)

Luffy

- he is so amused- 😭

- he loves this character so much

- “See?! He’s so cool and smart! Just like me hehe- >:3”

- “since when were you either of those things..?” -law + kid

- “HMPH- >:(“ -Luffy

- kid and law better be quiet, Luffy is awesome :)

- this boy really loves how close this character is to you because he can feel like it’s him-

- He sometimes pauses where he is to talk back to you, and then the character says the exact same thing 💀

- He gets so freaked out when that happens

- His jaw will drop to the floor

- … I’m gonna name this character.

- I’m so sorry for my shit sense of humor- but- I’m gonna call him Lucy-

- (you don’t even understand I can’t breathe rn I’m laughing so fucking hard 💀)

- So Lucy just said the same thing right after Luffy, and oml-

- “LUCY- WE-“ man’s mind just exploded 😭

- in conclusion, yes, he loves this character oh so much 🥺

Bonus - if they met irl Lucy would have a white beard and- that one vacation looking shirt he wore-

Luffy thinks his outfit is so cool and would like to dress up as him for Halloween 😭

Kid

- hell no.

- Kid is freaked out

- “Who the fuck is that?”

- He has (the same DF as Kid-) and the same kinda scar EXCEPT- it’s on the other side >:3

- and his hair is down

- Kid will criticize every single aspect of this character

- It could be something relating to their abilities, or the dumbest shit

- “his nail polish is a fucking disgusting shade of red.”

- “It looks red.” -law

- “Are you fucking blind?”

- Law: … 💀

- kid also doesn’t like this guy’s hair, same color as Kid’s except it’s combed down like all that fanart with kid’s hair down-

- He says it’s “not his style”

- what it boils down to is that he wants it to be him, not this imposter

Bonus: Luffy made him dress up, and he didn’t know what the fuck to do so Luffy decided to get him a costume himself and not tell him about it until he put it on and went to school or work. it was a costume of that character and Luffy got his ass beat while Law was dying in the background from laughter. 💀 no Zoro didn’t protect him at all-

Sanji

- this man. Out of all these guys, hates this character with a BURNING passion

- how dare he steal the y/n of his dreams???

- how dare he be so close to the love of his fictional crush dream life?

- no no no Sanji will literally have this characters photo, stuck onto a dart board, and he will literally throw old and dull knives at it every morning to wake himself up

- He uses old and dull knives because he doesn’t think that this guy deserves his nicer and sharp ones 💀

- Everytime this character has gotten close to death, he’s been so happy

- Then he breaks the tv with his foot when the character doesn’t die

- He cries himself to sleep sometimes after he sees the character giving you a hug

- This guy has moss green hair, and a scar on his RIGHT eye.

- Sanji is immediately reminded of his nemesis, Zoro

- the fact that the character that looks like Zoro, is close to you?

- Holy shit his eyes are on fire, this man can’t even take it anymore

- usually he’s so calm, but when it’s something to do with the god(ess) y/n?

- he’s gonna do anything for you even if it’s from an anime

Bonus: Sanji has beat up Zoro numerous times for absolutely no reason to Zoro’s understanding.

a/n - I wish I was more active- this was so fun to write. Pls the Lucy- 💀 why do I laugh so hard at the dumbest shit- 😭

<3

[dre6ming]

The delicate beginning rush

Upcoming series ~ introducing the reader

chapter I ~Meeting him ~ out now

Masterlist

To be added to the tag list click here

Pairing: Austin Butler x fem singer/actress reader

❣︎ You are a 19 year old actress on the road to success with an upcoming secret album.

❣︎ Your first job was at 11 when you got casted to play the daughter of Ana and Christian Grey, Phoebe Grey, in a series called “Fifty shades after” which follows the events of the “Fifty shades of Grey” trilogy. On the set you met Timothee Chalamet, who played your older brother Theodore Grey, it’s safe to say the two of you became like real brother and sister. The show had 3 seasons and ended when you were 14.

❣︎ You then got casted in a few other small roles as well as a music video for Billie Eilish’s music video for her song “Strange Addiction” in which the two of you play girlfriends running away from home.

❣︎ In 2018 Timothee begged you to be his plus one at the golden globes and you were sat next to Taylor Swift who was there with her boyfriend Joe. You and Taylor started talking and in 2020 when she started her re-recording process she asked you to do the background vocals for some of the songs, since you both lived in New York and it was convenient, with the pandemic going on.

❣︎ Taylor asked you to come help with the background vocals for her re-recording of “Red” as well and one day you find her struggling to finish writing one of the vault tracks called “Nothing new” so you propose that she let you try to write the second verse and finish the bridge. She loves what you come up with and you do a full feature on the song, officially starting your music career.

❣︎ When you were 17 you auditioned for the role of Amelia Baron in the screening of the book “Reconstructing Amelia”. The movie is a mystery story that is meant to bring awareness about mental health, bullying and so many more important topics. When the movie comes out a year later after you got casted, it’s a complete success and you get an Oscar nomination, for best lead actress.

❣︎ As your career is rising, your life at home is completely falling apart, when you finally manage to convince your mom to divorce your abusive father, but unfortunately it comes to bite you right back in the ass, as they both end up moving away and cutting all contact with you. Your relationship with your parents was always a difficult one, since they didn’t really approve of you acting, when you started the classes they thought it was only going to be just a hobby, not a real job, so they resent you for not going to college and becoming a doctor or something “real”, as they would say.

❣︎ This a short introduction into our reader for the Austin Bulter x singer/actress reader, the projects in which the reader performs are completely fictional, but both based on great reads. “Fifty shades after” is a Wattpad fanfic, you have the link for it here and “Reconstructing Amelia” is a real book that I highly recommend if you like a good mystery.

❣︎ The first chapter should come sometime this weekend and I can’t wait, to share it with you, but brace yourselfs cause the second year of college has me overwhelmed already and it’s only been 2 days :))

Tags: @kittenlittle24 @amorx @cryingabtab @lexicox044 @lrissa @feral4austinbutler @sageskywalker @jesssssicaa @rainydayz101 @flwersgarden @bobthefishiesworld @captured-memory @homebodybirkin2003 @galaxygirl453 @butlerslut @chrisevansgirl34 @myradiaz @pennyroyalcreep @macey234 @im-lame-irl @lordandmistress @the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf @poppet05 @gabbywontlose @4shbug @0-thegoodwitch-0 @hauntedarchivesx @chewiethecatus @sunnyx07 @francesbloomer @jessaroni19 @finelineskies @stargirlbytheweekend @cerenaydins-blog @girlblogger2002 @gigisworldsstuff @my-baexht-Is @xmusselisims @denised916

#the delicate beginning rush #austin butler smut #baz luhrmann elvis #elvis and priscilla #elvis biopic #elvis fans #elvis film #elvis songs #austin butler elvis #elvis smut #austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin #austin butler fic #austin butler fanfiction #austin!elvis x reader #austin!elvis #elvis imagine #elvis 2022 #elvis music #evermore #butler #elvisaaronpresley #fluff #love #x reader #timothée chalamet #timothee chamalet #taylor swift

[eviltiddyproductions]

destined with you episode 3

i hate her co-workers so much oh my god DON'T HOLD ME BACK !!!

they're so annoying like her beef is at most with the boss ??? what does it have to do with your loser asses 😵‍💫

yeah I do not care about him (the male lead) and his girlfriend.... BOOOOO

will this man stop driving STOPPP 😭

also they broke up, womp womp

he drank the love potion didn't he... honestly if he didn't, that would actually make me root for his developing crush on our girl

she looks breathtaking in that dress !!! Jo Bo Ah, my princess !!!

lmaooo him accompanying her to the restaurant and sitting like a child 😭😂 okay maybe I'll root for #you

isn't that loser boss of her being nice to her just because his crush the manager is here

i adore the manager !!! my sister from crash course in romance <333

Na Yeon, babe you lost me when you talked shit and possibly bullied my girl. He lost me too when he believed you. ✋

naurrrr let me take a breath to prepare myself for any embarrassment that might happen when my girl talks to her crush 😭 (need her courage irl so bad)

LMAO WHY ARE YOU HERE (let me Google the male lead's name)

Shin Yu why are you here and ffs get a chauffeur for one week 💀✋

yes! focus on your hand

also i don't want to listen to their conversation either so i'll focus on your hand for this bit too 😭

ugh did he drink it... i wanted a plot twist so bad

also the security is very chill with watching some random person being clearly sneaky on their screen 😂

lmaooo at least he came clean about it ?

oh lord

for once is it so hard for a lead to like someone minus a love spell or having met as children or whatever 😭✋ let love grow !!!

#destined with you #jo bo ah #my princess #kdrama #rowoon #i hate tuning in weekly but i also must know !!! #girl take everyone's love !!! you deserve it