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#like. people need to stop talking because they sound like idiots!!
kaivenom · 2 days
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May I request something heart break high related please?
Pool Pals
Summary: a normal afternoon with Ant ended up with you two breaking into the Hartley pool
Pairing: Anthony Vaughn x reader
Warnings: breaking into places, usual parties and alcohol, they are canonicaly 18th so it's not underage drinking.
A/N: Answering this person (the first request on this blog) i am really happy to do this and contribute to increase the little amount of fanfics that this fandom has. Of course i will write about them and i will write more from now on.
Masterlist
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At first, you two were hanging out on his garage, doing dumb stuff and not caring, then he said "let's break into the school's pool" and you said yes. It was exciting, just the two of you breaking the chains of your high school and like that, you were right in front of the pool. Everything would be dark if it wasn't because of the lights that came from the low of the pool.
"Oh my, we forgot swimsuits," you said slapping your forehead.
"Why we need them?" he looked at you with a smile and stripped himself into his underwear.
He threw himself onto the pool and gave you a gently hand to get into the water, with that adorable smile. You were a little self concious about entering with your underwear but at the end you did, and took his hand into the cold water.
"Are you shivering?" he asked you laughing.
"No, of course not, idiot."
You splashed him jokingly and suddently you started a water war. It was very funny, like time wasn't passing at all, each moment your bodies getting closer with the excuse of making the other one wetter.
At some point he wrapped you around his arms trying to made you stop, but neither of you could stop laughing, but his face was closer every second he twisted you with his arms. That little fight made the noise outside go unnoticed.
"What we have here?" suddently the door slammed open and an incredible amount of people entered the pool room, that voice was from Spider, "Man, you weren't answering my calls, i though you were dead, but when i tracked your phone and saw where you were i couldn't resist."
Now your relaxed oasis was full of people, drinking, partying and making noise. You didn't have the courage to get outside of the water and Ant was dragged with Spider. Now you are alone.
You spotted Amerie, Darren and the rest of your group and tried to get their attention. Once they saw you, help was provided and you finally had a towel to cover you up and went outside the pool. The next couple of hours you were with them, trying to ignore the fact that Spider ruined a beautiful moment. You couldn't talk anymore to Ant but you noticed his gaze on you.
"The police is here!!!!!" that was the sound of chaos, everyone started running and screaming.
Many people ended up on the pool trying to escape and you almost did that if it weren't for Ant's hand catching you. You two started to run and the towel fell off, you couldn't care less at that moment. The escape went for a couple of miles, until you didn't hear the sirens of the police anymore and you were sure you were alone.
That's when you realized the absence of the towel and tried to cover your body. Ant was fast thinking for once and got out his shirt to put it directly on you.
"Thanks," you said nervously.
"Nah, don't worry, it looks better on you." both of you smiled.
His hand went to you face and carresed slowly your cheek, his lips met yours in a sweet kiss.
"I've been wanting to do this all afternoon."
"Yeah, me too, but Spider..."
"Don't talk about him right now, you want to take a walk and find a nice place to seat and finish our hang out finally?"
"I would like it very much, but maybe i should go by my house before because i don't have pants right now."
"Nah, you look very good like that, but i can give you mine if you want."
His hand interlaced with yours as you two started walking down the street and laugh at Ant's jokes.
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thebewilderer · 21 days
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i'm doing my office hours and we have little cubicles, so we can pretty much hear everything everyone else is saying
and there's this one kid that's in my friend's office hours right next to me and has been there for an hour
and he has been NONSTOP TALKING the WHOLE TIME about how he doesn't understand the material and how he doesn't know how to approach the problems and how he understands this one thing but not the rest of the things and how that's bad because he doesn't understand and -
like my guy. if you're asking a question to the person whose job it is to help you, you need to shut the fuck up long enough for him to be able to answer!!
the few times this idiot kid shut up long enough for my friend to actually start to say something to help him, he interrupted within literally one minute
my friend has not gotten to finish a single sentence. in an hour.
#his voice is honestly making me nauseous#what the fuck is it with men and just talking nonstop at people when they don't understand something#like specifically men#this friend does it too btw he's just outmatched by this idiot#the women i'm in classes with? if they even have the slightest doubt about something they just don't contribute at all#which is its own problem tbh but#VERY fucking indicative of the huge amounts of sexism in the stem fields#but oh my goddd these men need to learn to shut the FUCK up#i unfortunately work with one too#and if we're working on a problem#he'll just nonstop yap yap yap about it without actually saying anything#like i get he's trying to talk himself through the problem but. i am not here to be your fucking rubber ducky. do that shit quietly.#there's one (1) guy in my little cohort group of mathematicians who will actively stop himself when he finishes a sentence#(instead of adding on a 'because like' or 'what i dont understand is' or 'okay so')#and ask me what i think about the problem and his approach#ONE#and that's in my little group like that's not even these fucking kids i'm trying to teach#who somehow simultaneously think they need help and think they know better than me??#i did an exam review for them the other day#and one kid kept asking questions (good! i encourage that!) and then actually being quiet to listen to my answer (love it!!)#BUT this ONE OTHER GUY in the room#who was ALSO THERE FOR THE REVIEW TO HEAR ME GO OVER THINGS#he KEPT TRYING TO ANSWER QUESTIONS#like someone would ask ME a question (me the TA the PhD student the person hosting the review session) and HE would start answering it#and i'm just ??????#what the fuck is wrong with men in STEM fields#it's fucking insufferable#if you want a rubber ducky just BUY A FUCKING RUBBER DUCKY#i am here to do math not to be a pretty mannequin that you get to talk at all fucking day because you love the sound of your own voice#its so infuriating
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treasure-mimic · 7 months
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So, let me try and put everything together here, because I really do think it needs to be talked about.
Today, Unity announced that it intends to apply a fee to use its software. Then it got worse.
For those not in the know, Unity is the most popular free to use video game development tool, offering a basic version for individuals who want to learn how to create games or create independently alongside paid versions for corporations or people who want more features. It's decent enough at this job, has issues but for the price point I can't complain, and is the idea entry point into creating in this medium, it's a very important piece of software.
But speaking of tools, the CEO is a massive one. When he was the COO of EA, he advocated for using, what out and out sounds like emotional manipulation to coerce players into microtransactions.
"A consumer gets engaged in a property, they might spend 10, 20, 30, 50 hours on the game and then when they're deep into the game they're well invested in it. We're not gouging, but we're charging and at that point in time the commitment can be pretty high."
He also called game developers who don't discuss monetization early in the planning stages of development, quote, "fucking idiots".
So that sets the stage for what might be one of the most bald-faced greediest moves I've seen from a corporation in a minute. Most at least have the sense of self-preservation to hide it.
A few hours ago, Unity posted this announcement on the official blog.
Effective January 1, 2024, we will introduce a new Unity Runtime Fee that’s based on game installs. We will also add cloud-based asset storage, Unity DevOps tools, and AI at runtime at no extra cost to Unity subscription plans this November. We are introducing a Unity Runtime Fee that is based upon each time a qualifying game is downloaded by an end user. We chose this because each time a game is downloaded, the Unity Runtime is also installed. Also we believe that an initial install-based fee allows creators to keep the ongoing financial gains from player engagement, unlike a revenue share.
Now there are a few red flags to note in this pitch immediately.
Unity is planning on charging a fee on all games which use its engine.
This is a flat fee per number of installs.
They are using an always online runtime function to determine whether a game is downloaded.
There is just so many things wrong with this that it's hard to know where to start, not helped by this FAQ which doubled down on a lot of the major issues people had.
I guess let's start with what people noticed first. Because it's using a system baked into the software itself, Unity would not be differentiating between a "purchase" and a "download". If someone uninstalls and reinstalls a game, that's two downloads. If someone gets a new computer or a new console and downloads a game already purchased from their account, that's two download. If someone pirates the game, the studio will be asked to pay for that download.
Q: How are you going to collect installs? A: We leverage our own proprietary data model. We believe it gives an accurate determination of the number of times the runtime is distributed for a given project. Q: Is software made in unity going to be calling home to unity whenever it's ran, even for enterprice licenses? A: We use a composite model for counting runtime installs that collects data from numerous sources. The Unity Runtime Fee will use data in compliance with GDPR and CCPA. The data being requested is aggregated and is being used for billing purposes. Q: If a user reinstalls/redownloads a game / changes their hardware, will that count as multiple installs? A: Yes. The creator will need to pay for all future installs. The reason is that Unity doesn’t receive end-player information, just aggregate data. Q: What's going to stop us being charged for pirated copies of our games? A: We do already have fraud detection practices in our Ads technology which is solving a similar problem, so we will leverage that know-how as a starting point. We recognize that users will have concerns about this and we will make available a process for them to submit their concerns to our fraud compliance team.
This is potentially related to a new system that will require Unity Personal developers to go online at least once every three days.
Starting in November, Unity Personal users will get a new sign-in and online user experience. Users will need to be signed into the Hub with their Unity ID and connect to the internet to use Unity. If the internet connection is lost, users can continue using Unity for up to 3 days while offline. More details to come, when this change takes effect.
It's unclear whether this requirement will be attached to any and all Unity games, though it would explain how they're theoretically able to track "the number of installs", and why the methodology for tracking these installs is so shit, as we'll discuss later.
Unity claims that it will only leverage this fee to games which surpass a certain threshold of downloads and yearly revenue.
Only games that meet the following thresholds qualify for the Unity Runtime Fee: Unity Personal and Unity Plus: Those that have made $200,000 USD or more in the last 12 months AND have at least 200,000 lifetime game installs. Unity Pro and Unity Enterprise: Those that have made $1,000,000 USD or more in the last 12 months AND have at least 1,000,000 lifetime game installs.
They don't say how they're going to collect information on a game's revenue, likely this is just to say that they're only interested in squeezing larger products (games like Genshin Impact and Honkai: Star Rail, Fate Grand Order, Among Us, and Fall Guys) and not every 2 dollar puzzle platformer that drops on Steam. But also, these larger products have the easiest time porting off of Unity and the most incentives to, meaning realistically those heaviest impacted are going to be the ones who just barely meet this threshold, most of them indie developers.
Aggro Crab Games, one of the first to properly break this story, points out that systems like the Xbox Game Pass, which is already pretty predatory towards smaller developers, will quickly inflate their "lifetime game installs" meaning even skimming the threshold of that 200k revenue, will be asked to pay a fee per install, not a percentage on said revenue.
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[IMAGE DESCRIPTION: Hey Gamers!
Today, Unity (the engine we use to make our games) announced that they'll soon be taking a fee from developers for every copy of the game installed over a certain threshold - regardless of how that copy was obtained.
Guess who has a somewhat highly anticipated game coming to Xbox Game Pass in 2024? That's right, it's us and a lot of other developers.
That means Another Crab's Treasure will be free to install for the 25 million Game Pass subscribers. If a fraction of those users download our game, Unity could take a fee that puts an enormous dent in our income and threatens the sustainability of our business.
And that's before we even think about sales on other platforms, or pirated installs of our game, or even multiple installs by the same user!!!
This decision puts us and countless other studios in a position where we might not be able to justify using Unity for our future titles. If these changes aren't rolled back, we'll be heavily considering abandoning our wealth of Unity expertise we've accumulated over the years and starting from scratch in a new engine. Which is really something we'd rather not do.
On behalf of the dev community, we're calling on Unity to reverse the latest in a string of shortsighted decisions that seem to prioritize shareholders over their product's actual users.
I fucking hate it here.
-Aggro Crab - END DESCRIPTION]
That fee, by the way, is a flat fee. Not a percentage, not a royalty. This means that any games made in Unity expecting any kind of success are heavily incentivized to cost as much as possible.
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[IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A table listing the various fees by number of Installs over the Install Threshold vs. version of Unity used, ranging from $0.01 to $0.20 per install. END DESCRIPTION]
Basic elementary school math tells us that if a game comes out for $1.99, they will be paying, at maximum, 10% of their revenue to Unity, whereas jacking the price up to $59.99 lowers that percentage to something closer to 0.3%. Obviously any company, especially any company in financial desperation, which a sudden anchor on all your revenue is going to create, is going to choose the latter.
Furthermore, and following the trend of "fuck anyone who doesn't ask for money", Unity helpfully defines what an install is on their main site.
While I'm looking at this page as it exists now, it currently says
The installation and initialization of a game or app on an end user’s device as well as distribution via streaming is considered an “install.” Games or apps with substantially similar content may be counted as one project, with installs then aggregated to calculate the Unity Runtime Fee.
However, I saw a screenshot saying something different, and utilizing the Wayback Machine we can see that this phrasing was changed at some point in the few hours since this announcement went up. Instead, it reads:
The installation and initialization of a game or app on an end user’s device as well as distribution via streaming or web browser is considered an “install.” Games or apps with substantially similar content may be counted as one project, with installs then aggregated to calculate the Unity Runtime Fee.
Screenshot for posterity:
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That would mean web browser games made in Unity would count towards this install threshold. You could legitimately drive the count up simply by continuously refreshing the page. The FAQ, again, doubles down.
Q: Does this affect WebGL and streamed games? A: Games on all platforms are eligible for the fee but will only incur costs if both the install and revenue thresholds are crossed. Installs - which involves initialization of the runtime on a client device - are counted on all platforms the same way (WebGL and streaming included).
And, what I personally consider to be the most suspect claim in this entire debacle, they claim that "lifetime installs" includes installs prior to this change going into effect.
Will this fee apply to games using Unity Runtime that are already on the market on January 1, 2024? Yes, the fee applies to eligible games currently in market that continue to distribute the runtime. We look at a game's lifetime installs to determine eligibility for the runtime fee. Then we bill the runtime fee based on all new installs that occur after January 1, 2024.
Again, again, doubled down in the FAQ.
Q: Are these fees going to apply to games which have been out for years already? If you met the threshold 2 years ago, you'll start owing for any installs monthly from January, no? (in theory). It says they'll use previous installs to determine threshold eligibility & then you'll start owing them for the new ones. A: Yes, assuming the game is eligible and distributing the Unity Runtime then runtime fees will apply. We look at a game's lifetime installs to determine eligibility for the runtime fee. Then we bill the runtime fee based on all new installs that occur after January 1, 2024.
That would involve billing companies for using their software before telling them of the existence of a bill. Holding their actions to a contract that they performed before the contract existed!
Okay. I think that's everything. So far.
There is one thing that I want to mention before ending this post, unfortunately it's a little conspiratorial, but it's so hard to believe that anyone genuinely thought this was a good idea that it's stuck in my brain as a significant possibility.
A few days ago it was reported that Unity's CEO sold 2,000 shares of his own company.
On September 6, 2023, John Riccitiello, President and CEO of Unity Software Inc (NYSE:U), sold 2,000 shares of the company. This move is part of a larger trend for the insider, who over the past year has sold a total of 50,610 shares and purchased none.
I would not be surprised if this decision gets reversed tomorrow, that it was literally only made for the CEO to short his own goddamn company, because I would sooner believe that this whole thing is some idiotic attempt at committing fraud than a real monetization strategy, even knowing how unfathomably greedy these people can be.
So, with all that said, what do we do now?
Well, in all likelihood you won't need to do anything. As I said, some of the biggest names in the industry would be directly affected by this change, and you can bet your bottom dollar that they're not just going to take it lying down. After all, the only way to stop a greedy CEO is with a greedier CEO, right?
(I fucking hate it here.)
And that's not mentioning the indie devs who are already talking about abandoning the engine.
[Links display tweets from the lead developer of Among Us saying it'd be less costly to hire people to move the game off of Unity and Cult of the Lamb's official twitter saying the game won't be available after January 1st in response to the news.]
That being said, I'm still shaken by all this. The fact that Unity is openly willing to go back and punish its developers for ever having used the engine in the past makes me question my relationship to it.
The news has given rise to the visibility of free, open source alternative Godot, which, if you're interested, is likely a better option than Unity at this point. Mostly, though, I just hope we can get out of this whole, fucking, environment where creatives are treated as an endless mill of free profits that's going to be continuously ratcheted up and up to drive unsustainable infinite corporate growth that our entire economy is based on for some fuckin reason.
Anyways, that's that, I find having these big posts that break everything down to be helpful.
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marvelouslizzie · 2 months
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One More Night
Summary: You and Bucky Barnes are fuck buddies for a while. The problem is you have feelings for him but you don't think he reciprocates and it just makes it impossible to continue your relationship. Little did you know how much he wants you and how hard he's trying to keep it casual.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Warnings: +18, friends with benefits, idiots in love, unspoken feelings, miscommunication/misunderstandings, angst with happy ending, unprotected sex, pet names, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 3.4K
All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.
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It is one of those days when you feel absolutely worthless. It wasn’t something you felt often before but now…. It is starting to feel like your new normal. You know it’s your fault, and it just makes you feel even worse. You let this happen when you let Bucky Barnes walk into your life without any consequences. Now he just has a free pass to destroy you anytime he wants. 
It was supposed to be just fun. Something casual because you know he has no intention of settling down. Especially not with you. Not that he said any of those words but he doesn’t need to. You just know it. 
He’s one of the popular guys in your college. It’s not surprising considering how handsome and charming he is. He’s also talented and hard-working. He takes school seriously unlike a lot of people around you. So when it comes to his free time, he just wants to have some fun, no strings attached and you were fine with this arrangement. You wanted to be close to him and this is the price: Your heart breaks every time. 
You don’t blame him but you definitely blame yourself because you put yourself in this position. If you weren’t so pathetic, you could simply say no and this regularly hooking-up arrangement of yours would have ended. Yet you never said no and he never stopped coming back to you. Probably because it’s convenient, you can’t come up with any other reason. Like who says no to an easy fuck, right? That is what you are. An easy fuck. Still, it’s breaking your heart every time he leaves your bed. You say to yourself “This is gonna be the last time” but when the next text or call comes, you fold once again. 
That’s how you ended up here. Your face is buried in the pillow while Bucky is pounding you from behind. It feels good. Actually, it feels pretty amazing. It always does but this time your emotions are overshadowing the physical pleasure. Tears are streaming down your face and you are grateful that he can’t see it thanks to this position. Then a sob escapes your mouth and you feel betrayed by your own body.
“Does it feel that good, doll?” He sounds smug but you can’t answer him. Not while trying to hold the rest of your sobs back. That seems to worry him. He suddenly stops and when he takes a closer look sees that your eyes are filled with tears.
“Hey, hey, hey! Are you alright?” He sounds genuinely worried. You try to say something but instead, more sobs come out. “What happened? Did I hurt you?”
He didn’t physically hurt you, yet you are hurt. You don’t know how to explain this to him. You feel embarrassed and angry at the same time. You pride yourself on how good you are at hiding your emotions. You don’t want anyone to see you cry. You don’t want anyone’s pity. Yet here you are. Eyes filled with tears, sobs escaping your lips and your heart is shattered.
“Please talk to me!” His desperate tone snaps you out of your thoughts. You try to turn on your back and quickly dry your tears. 
“It’s fine. Sorry for killing the mood. I just…” You hesitate for a second but no, you won’t back down this time. “I just can’t do this anymore.”
“That’s fine.” That wasn’t the response you were expecting. “You know it’s okay right?” His worry is so apparent in his voice. “You can always tell me to stop.” What is he talking about? “If you don’t like something or you don’t feel like it anymore… Just tell me next time and I will just stop.”
“There’s no next time Bucky.” The words come out of your mouth before you can process them. You didn’t intend to be so harsh but it came out so definite.
“What?”
“I’m telling you that I can’t do this…” You wave your hand between you two. “...anymore. I’m done. We are done.” 
“What…” He sounds shocked and hurt at the same time. You try to avoid looking at his eyes while he struggles to find the right words. “What are you talking about? Did I do something?”
“You didn’t do anything. It’s all my fault.” You have no intention to blame him. You know it’s on you. He never promised you anything.
“I don’t understand.” He sounds so lost. “Just help me understand what happened, okay? I thought everything was okay.”
“They were, for you. It was never okay for me.” 
You watch how his expression changes into something that breaks your heart even more. You never thought he would care this much but… apparently, he does. Maybe he’s not used to being rejected. Especially in the middle of sex.
“I… I don’t know what to say.” He looks at your face and then around. “I thought this is what you wanted.”
“What I wanted?” You repeat his words without missing a beat. “I never wanted this. This is what you wanted and that’s why we kept doing it. I was just…” You hesitate for a second because you hate to admit it. “weak.”
“Weak? You are never weak.”
“Oh, I am weak. This is why I kept saying ‘one more night’ to myself whenever you called or texted me. I’m weak as fuck and it makes me angry, okay? I shouldn’t be like this.”
“Doll, what are you talking about?”
His confusion confuses you as well. Can’t he see how much he’s hurting you? Is he really that blind or maybe he just doesn’t care.
“This arrangement might be working for you but it’s not working for me, okay?”
“But… this is what you wanted.”
“I never wanted this.”
“You said we can’t get emotions involved!” He sounds somewhat angry this time.
“Because you didn’t want emotions involved!” Your answer comes instantly.
“When did I ever say that?”
His question makes you stop for a second. He never said that but did he really have to? You know how popular he is. Everybody loves him. He has the prettiest face you have ever seen. You desperately wanted to be with him. You didn’t care how.
“Just look at you.”
“What does that even mean?” Is he doing this on purpose? He surely knows everybody wants him. Why does he have to hear it from you?
“It means you didn’t have to say it.”
“How does… I really don’t understand you.” His confusion is written all over his face. The way he hesitates makes you realize you have to say it out loud to make him understand.
“You are handsome. You are talented. Everybody loves you.” He keeps looking at you with confusion. He really doesn’t get it, does he? “You can have anybody you want!”
“Apparently not.” Why does he sound broken?
“Oh, come on!” Your reaction is instant. “You know you can. Don’t act humble. I’m just easier.”
“Easier?” You don’t miss the disbelief in his voice. “Easier?” This time it comes out more angry. “You were never easy!”
“You know what I mean. An easy fu-”
“Don’t you fucking dare!” The tone of his voice startles you. You never heard him talk like this. “I never wanted just an easy fuck. Especially not with you but that was all I could get!” Your head flinches back slightly. What is he talking about? 
“Bucky…” He doesn’t let you continue. 
“I don’t know what has gotten into you because this… what you called it? Arrangement, yes, was never my idea! You were the one who didn’t want to involve emotions. You were the one who said anything more than this would affect our friendship. I never said that!”
“I was trying to protect myself!”
“You never showed any interest to me!”
You blink a couple of times, trying to process that information. What did he think you were doing with him?
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You never showed any interest in staying over. You never wanted to do anything outside the bedroom or wherever the fuck we were fucking. Whenever I tried to take you on a date, you came up with a lazy excuse.”
“Uh… what?”
“I tried so many times, sweetheart. You never let me in. You were only interested in sex and now you are blaming me for it. No. Be honest. If you wanna end this thing, it’s fine. You don’t need any lies. I get it. I knew it would happen eventually.” He’s speaking so fast, you can’t even find any opportunity to interrupt him until he stops.
“You tried to take me on dates?” He squishes his eyebrows together like he can’t believe you are focusing on that part.
“Many times. I suggested study dates, tried to take you on that concert, then that one comedy club thing…”
“I thought…” You don’t know how to finish that sentence.
“You thought what? You knew what I was trying to do and you weren’t interested, so I finally gave up.”
“No, no, no.” You jump from your awkward position on the bed. “I never realized.”
“What did you think I was doing?”
“I thought… they were activities with other… people. Not dates.”
“Why would I take other people to a concert with us?” Oh, he really doesn’t get it.
“I thought… you had plans with your friends and… you were… inviting me as well. Just to show… we are nothing more than friends.”
“Oh, dear god.” He covers his face with both of his hands. “Seriously? Why would you even think that?”
You mimic him and cover your face with embarrassment. You don’t want to say it. Especially not to him.
“I… just never thought…” You don’t know how to say it without making him realize how low you think of yourself. “You were interested in anything more than sex.”
“I’m handsome. I’m popular. Everybody loves me. Is that why?” He repeats your words with that god-awful mocking tone and it hurts to hear. What you don’t realize is that he’s making fun of himself.
“Yeah.” Your response comes out so weakly but he hears it.
He starts to laugh all of a sudden and all you can do is give him a confused look. 
“God you are so blind.”
“Hey!” You instantly respond.
“Have you ever looked in the mirror?” You make a face but it just spurs him. “You are gorgeous and smart. I always thought you were way out of my league.”
“What?”
“You heard me. You are out of my league.”
“Come on… That’s-” He interrupts you again.
“Please.” The way he says it makes you stop talking. “I have been struggling to come to terms with you not liking me. I just told myself, you have done everything you can. You tried so many times. It’s a miracle she still wants to fuck you. I convinced myself this was all I could get so I tried to make peace with it. Now you are telling me you don’t want to keep doing this. What did you think I was gonna think?”
He just baffles you with every word coming out of his mouth. You look at him, not knowing what to say or what to think, even.
“And you thought you were just an easy fuck? Jesus, doll. Do you have any idea how many times I prepared myself for rejection? Every time I called you, I thought you weren’t gonna pick up. Every time I texted you, I prepared myself to hear ‘no’, and every time it did not come, I was the happiest man on earth because I had one more night with you!”
You don’t know when it started but you start to feel tears filling your eyes.
“Please don’t cry anymore.” He moves his hand on your face and catches a tear before it drops on your cheeks.
“I…” It’s so hard to speak normally. “I never thought…”
“What?” This time it comes out softer. You know he wants to hear it because he needs that assurance as much as you do.
“You would actually like me.”
“Like you? Oh, doll… I don’t like you. The word like doesn’t even cover it.” The smile he gives you ignites something inside you. Something you tried to push down for a long time. Suddenly you push him back a little bit and his mouth falls open but he doesn’t get the chance to say anything. You just sit on his lap, taking him back inside you and it slips right back in so easily. It makes you want to moan out loud but instead, you wrap your legs around his torso and trap him there.
“Oh fuck…” His moan is like music to your ears. It’s so raw and unfiltered.
You don’t say anything. Your hand wraps around his neck before you start to move. His hand quickly finds your breasts, squeezing them a lot harder than he ever did before. 
“You are so fucking gorgeous.” He says right next to your ear. You feel his breath on your neck and his lips attach to your neck as if he knows what you want. He starts gently. First, he sucks the skin and makes you whimper. Then his teeth graze the sore skin. When he finally bites the same spot, you realize he was just giving you some time to protest but it never came. His bite pulls a groan out of you and the way it hurts falters your rhythm.
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” He licks the same spot, trying to soothe the pain. “There’s a part of me…” He tries to find the right word. “...that wants to mark you. Show the world that you’re mine.” Fuck, is he serious? He stops for another second to ask “Are you mine, doll?” He sounds so nervous yet possessive.
“I am.” You move a little back and look into his eyes while saying that. “I have been for a long time.”
He grabs your cheeks with both of his hands and pulls you in for a long, passionate kiss. It's all tongue and teeth, making you burn with passion.
“I’m yours, too. I think I always have been.” 
It’s your turn to show how much those words mean to you. You start to move again on his lap. This time it’s faster than before and it just makes both of you moan loudly. He wraps his arms around your body while he supports your movement by grabbing your ass and moving you a bit faster than before.
“Shit!” It feels good but it also restricts your range of movement and he realizes it quickly.
“Sorry. I just want to feel you all over me.”
You want to say it’s alright but he’s a lot faster than you. Suddenly you find yourself on your back. Bucky’s still between your legs. He never left inside you while changing the position. 
“Wrap your legs around me, baby.” 
God, the way he says it sounds like a soft order. You can practically feel the desire running through your veins. Your legs are automatically wrapped around his ass while he starts to move but he doesn’t put any distance between you. His whole body is pressed against yours while he’s kissing and licking all over your neck.
Sex with Bucky never felt like this. It was always good. You don’t remember any occasion you didn’t enjoy it or reach orgasm. Yet this feels like real intimacy. The way he’s making you feel is indescribable. You can feel everything he said before while he moves inside you. How much he wants you, how much he adores you… The way he clings to you fills you with love. All of it enhances the physical pleasure. Loud moans escape your lips.
“So… All this time…” Bucky starts to talk. “You thought I was here because this is easy.”
Ah, fuck. He isn’t gonna let that go, is he? You should’ve known that. You roll your eyes in response but he doesn’t see it. His head is still buried in the crook of your neck.
“All this time… I was where I wanted to be.” Your annoyance quickly fades away as he keeps talking. “Underneath your body.”
“You weren’t always underneath me.” You answer him with a playful tone.
“As long as I’m inside you, the position doesn’t matter.”
“So…” You try to ask as quickly as possible before your sudden courage disappears. “You haven’t been sleeping around with anyone else.”
He raises his head just to look into your eyes. 
“All this time, you thought I was fucking other people?”
“I mean…” You were just friends with benefits. What else you were supposed to assume?
“Were you?”
“Was I what?”
“Fucking other people?” His question is a lot more blunt than yours.
“I asked first!” You sound so defensive all of a sudden.
“I can’t live without touching you, smelling you, feeling you… I have been craving you non-stop, only stopping myself from calling you every day, just so I wouldn’t scare you away and you are asking me if I have been fucking other people. Jesus Christ, doll. How blind are you?”
You are questioning the same thing yourself, to be honest. How blind were you? While trying to surpass your feelings, you were overlooking his, as well. It’s just unbelievable.
“Doll?” You didn’t realize you were lost in thoughts. “It’s fine if you have been.” It doesn’t sound fine at all. It sounds like he’s trying to rationalize it so it would hurt less. “I’m not saying I won’t be jealous but it’s not like we were actually together.”
You start to laugh and he gives you a strange look.
“You are such an idiot and you call me blind.”
“What?”
“I only ever wanted you, you moron.” 
His smile is so big and bright, it’s worth everything you two went through. His happiness is practically radiating. Suddenly, his lips are on yours, kissing you like a madman.
“You’re only mine.” He starts to move inside you again and you can feel how close you are to coming.
“Only yours.” Your words make him groan loudly. 
“Fuck that mouth of yours. You’re gonna make me come before you.”
“You can do that later.” You tease him while moving your hips to meet him.
“Is that a promise?”
“It can be. Only if you fuck me just a little harder so I can finally come!”
That makes him move away from you. He stands up and without losing any time, pulls you on the edge of the bed. You know what’s coming and it makes you smile like a fool. He positions himself between your legs while pushing your knees on your chest. In a couple of seconds, he’s back inside you but the position feels so much better this time. A loud moan leaves your lips every time he hits that sweet spot inside you.
“Harder, huh?”
“Yeah. Just like that.” It’s so hard to not roll your eyes with the pleasure he’s giving you. It’s familiar yet it feels so different this time.
“My girl wants it rough. Why didn’t you just say so?” He sounds cocky there’s also a hint of eagerness in his voice. You can tell he’s close.
“Do I have to tell you everything?” 
“From now on, yes. You have to tell me everything.” That authoritative tone pushes you over the edge. “Every fucking thing you feel, okay? Every fucking thing you want. I wanna know everything!”
“Yes!” You practically scream. You don’t know if you are answering him or just screaming because of the way he makes you feel. Your legs are shaking violently while your whole body tightens up. “Fuck yes. Please, please, please, don’t stop!” Your eyes are closed while you are riding your high.
That makes him groan so loudly. Even though you can’t directly look at his face anymore, you just know he’s about to come. He starts to pound on you so forcefully, it just unlocks another level of orgasm for you. Both of your moans fill the room and he keeps going until he empties himself inside you. After what feels like an eternity, he pulls out of you and lays right next to you.
“Fuck, that was…” The struggles to find the right word.
“On another level?” You offer to end the sentence for him. That’s exactly how you feel.
“Yeah.” He doesn’t miss a beat. “We should’ve talked to each other before.”
“We were busy doing other stuff.” You smile and he smiles back, knowing exactly what you mean.
“I guess we did everything other than talking things through, huh?”
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twitchmattenthusiast · 3 months
Text
𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍, chris sturniolo !
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summary: (fem oc!) avoids chris for a full week after having a sex dream about him. chris cant take it anymore and convinces matt and nick to help him get her alone at a party.
contains: soft / kinda rough dom!chris, slightt mommy & daddy kink if you squint, mentions of sex dream, riding & fingering.
requested: yes. irl bsf requested this one so this one’s for u bff 😘
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"where the fuck are we going?"
"don’t you trust us, b?"
matt’s faux-exasperated tone had bianca throwing him a side-eye. nick, who stood to the left of bianca, chuckled, "i don't think she does matt."
it wasn't that bianca didn't trust them. she’s known the triplets literally her whole life, and matt and nick are like the older brothers she's never had. on a normal day, she would literally follow them blindly because that’s exactly what the trio were: the blind leading the blind. but with the current circumstances and the fact that she has been avoiding their brother like the literal plague, bianca can’t help but feel a little bit suspicious.
matt and nick had found bianca hiding—or at least trying to. it was always easy to find bianca at a party, considering after two drinks she was close to literally getting on top of a table and singing out of tune. anyway, she had been hiding with a group of her college friends that none of the triplets could even remember the names of, considering she didn’t hang out with them much. the fact that bianca was even at a party with them in the first place was weird; she always found it boring, but she needed an escape, and cheap beer with some questionable company had to do it.
bianca was sitting with one of her college friends, pouring another drink for herself, when matt and nick appeared out of literally nowhere, which confused bianca because why would matt and nick ever be at a party one of her college friends were throwing? grabbed her plastic cup from her hands, ignored her protests, and started dragging her out of the living room.
dragging bianca along, each one linked to her arms from both sides, passing in between the crowd of bodies gathered in the living room, occasionally having to push a drunk jock out of the way, and guiding her up the stairs into the upstairs hallway. they moved fast, and the people around her passed by like a sea of blurred faces.
bianca was suddenly thrusted forward when she reached one of the doors and were pushed inside by matt, who flashed her an apologetic smile, shrugging, "i’m sorry!" he said though he didn’t seem apologetic at all.
bianca glared at the door; she didn’t even need to turn around; she already knew who was sitting on the bed, as who else would convince their equally idiotic brothers to do this?
she sighed as she turned around, reasoning with herself that as much as she tried, she unfortunately couldn't avoid her best friend forever. sitting on the neatly made bed of some stranger's room was chris sturniolo, looking like a kicked puppy as he followed bianca’s eyes, watching as they averted around the room as she still stood at the door, unsure of what to do.
chris happily broke the silence, though. “so now i have to literally kidnap my best friend just to talk to her?”
leaning back into the cold wooden surface of the door, bianca tried to sound as unbothered as possible, knowing very well she was about to crack. "i wouldn't call that much of a kidnapping. matt and nick were giggling like literal idiots.”
when chris didn't answer, merely raising an eyebrow, unamused, she tried again. "so, uh... what is this, exactly? christopher. seven minutes in heaven? you know this isn't seventh grade anymore, right?"
“no, if it were seventh grade, you wouldn’t be ignoring me and acting weird.”
"i’m not acting weird.”
"then why can't you just look at me?" chris asked, frustration creeping into his voice.
"i-"
but as soon as chris opened his mouth, he couldn’t stop talking. “you’ve been avoiding me like the fucking plague all week, and i need to know why."
bianca wasn’t avoiding chris.
or at least that’s what bianca has been telling him ever since he first confronted her about it. he showed up at her house a week ago, climbing through her window as he refused to use the door like a normal person, planning to stay up all night with her because og fortnite had just dropped, though she made an excuse about being sick and ushered him out of her house, causing him to be very confused because she looked fine at school earlier.
he brushed it off and didn’t text her the next day. when bianca was sick, she liked to be left alone; she hated people being around her when she was sick. but when three days had passed and she still hadn’t contacted him once, he attempted to call her, asking her what was wrong and why she was avoiding him. she couldn’t bear to tell him the truth, so she said she was still sick, and then hastily hung up the phone, avoiding his texts afterwards.
in school, when he attempted to approach bianca at her locker in hopes of talking to his best friend, whom he hadn’t seen or spoken to in four days, she rushed towards her class, pretending she didn’t notice him; she was running out of excuses.
the truth was, bianca couldn’t look her best friend in the eye anymore, let alone be in his presence, after the dream she had of him.
she sighed and looked down at the floor. “it’s nothing, chris; i’m just confused, okay? you didn’t do anything  wrong; i promise it’s just...” she trailed off awkwardly.
there was a shift in the air, and the tension dropped as chris’s face lightened. hearing that bianca wasn’t mad at him was a relief. he rose from his place on the bed and walked over to her, stopping right in front of her.
“hey b?” he gently lifted her chin up, looking deeply into her eyes. “i’m not mad at you, okay? i was just worried; we used to tell each other everything, and then you started acting like this, and it’s been driving me crazy because i didn’t know what to think," he admitted.
"i know; i’m sorry." bianca finally mustered up the courage to meet his gaze. her eyes softened slightly at his concern. "it’s just... well, you know how crazy dreams can be sometimes," she added sheepishly.
"bianca..." chris sighed softly before wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her close against his chest. he rested his chin on top of her head, savouring the familiar scent of her hair. "i promise i won't judge you for whatever it was. just, please, talk to me about it." he pleaded softly, hoping she would finally break down and tell him what had been bothering her all week.
bianca sighed, her body leaning into his warmth. "okay, fine," she muttered reluctantly. taking a deep breath, she began to explain, "it’s just that... well, i had this weird dream about us... you know?" she stuttered, her cheeks turning crimson red.
chris raised an eyebrow. “oh yeah?” he asked. his sweet tone started to fade away as he smirked slightly.
bianca just nodded her head, missing the smirk in his tone as he asked, “what happened in the dream?" though he kind of had an idea already, and he’d be lying if he said the images weren’t going straight to his dick.
"in the dream, we were both, you know..." bianca managed to choke out, her voice barely above a whisper.
“oh, i think i know.” chris’s smirk grew wider at her discomfort, his eyes glittering with excitement. "and what happened next?" he prompted, eagerly waiting for her reaction.
bianca swallowed hard, her heart racing faster than normal. "uh, i was riding you.” she admitted weakly.
 “that sounds hot."
 bianca’s eyes widened as she pulled away from chris. “what?” she asked in shock. she couldn’t believe she was even admitting this to him.
“you heard me.” chris smirked.
bianca’s face reddened slightly, and chris smirked. “what do you say we make your little dream come true, hm?"
bianca bit her lower lip, her eyes darting around the room nervously. "chris, we can't!" she protested weakly.
"no?” chris raised his eyebrows. “if i pulled your panties aside, you’re telling me you wouldn’t be dripping?” he asked, noting how her thighs were pressed together.
"i... i..." stuttering, bianca couldn't find the words to argue anymore. her body was betraying her, and the warmth between her legs confirmed it all too well.
"come on, ma,” chris said as his hands trailed down towards her ass, squeezing them tightly. “made you feel good in your dream, hm? let me make you feel good in real life.”
unable to resist any longer, bianca nodded, and chris grinned triumphantly. he pulled her closer, pressing his lips to hers and kissing her hungrily, their tongues tangling together in a messy dance. chris suddenly motioned for her to jump, and she instantly complied, jumping and wrapping her legs around chris’s waist as he kissed her harder, walking towards the bed and pushing her onto it. he pulled apart from her lips, his lips covered in her lipstick, though he didn’t seem to care as he said, “tell me what i did to you in your dream, ma.”
"y-you were kissing my neck, and then you started to undress me slowly,” she gasped as chris’s lips attached to her neck, bitting, licking, and kissing her skin. his hands trailed down her body, making their way to her back as he unzipped her dress effortlessly while still kissing her. she gasped as the dress fell and his hands started to cup her breasts over her bra.
“like this, ma?” he asked.
"mmm..." bianca groaned, enjoying the sensation of his hands on her breasts. "yes, just like that," she managed to croak out between moans.
"good girl," chris praised, pulling away from her neck long enough to whisper into her ear, "now tell me what happened next." he nibbled lightly on her earlobe before sucking it softly, causing goosebumps to rise on her skin.
he continued to tease her nipples through her bra, making them harden further. "come on, mommy,” he teased, knowing that was a secret kink of hers that he heard her overshare one time. “don’t be shy; tell me what i did next."
she couldn’t help it. the use of the word mommy always made her feel some type of way, so she no longer held back. "you pulled my panties down, and you fingered me."
"that’s a good girl," chris praised as he finally took her lacy bra off and sucked on her nipple harshly before turning his attention to her wetness. he began to rub slow circles around her clit through her underwear, creating waves of pleasure that radiated throughout her body. "tell me how bad you want me to touch you there, ma," he demanded huskily.
bianca moaned loudly, her body arching into his touch. "please, chris. i need you to touch me." she begged, her voice hoarse with desire.
chris grinned triumphantly, his eyes glittering with satisfaction. he hooked his fingers underneath her underwear and pulled them down slowly, revealing her smooth, shaven pussy to him. "just like that," he praised before lowering his head and sucking her clit between his lips, his tongue flicking it teasingly.
bianca moaned so loudly that chris had to place his hand over her mouth. "you need to be quiet, b. don’t want people to hear us, do you?” he asked as he inserted a finger and wasted no time in moving it quickly in and out of her, smirking as she threw her head back.
"after all, that would mean i’d have to stop, and you don’t want me to stop now, do you, baby?”
bianca nodded frantically, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "no, please don't stop." she begged, her body trembling with desire.
chris chuckled darkly, his finger moving faster inside of her, hitting her g-spot just right. "you’re such a naughty girl, bianca," he teased before suddenly stopping, leaving her hanging on edge. "but i’ll reward you for being so good." with that, he slowly inserted another finger alongside the first one, stretching her tight entrance as he began to thrust them in and out of her wet pussy.
bianca whimpered softly, her nails digging into chris’s back for support. "more, please, give me more," she begged, her voice shaking with need.
"mhm, i don’t know, ma,” chris teased. "is this better than your dream?” he asked.
"yes, yes, it's better," bianca panted, her voice barely above a whisper.
chris chuckled again, his fingers picking up the pace inside of her and hitting her g-spot harder and faster. "that’s a good girl," he praised, his voice husky with desire. "now, spread your legs wider for me."
bianca complied, spreading her legs apart as wide as they could go, exposing her sensitive folds to him. her body trembled in anticipation, begging for more.
chris didn't disappoint her. he added another finger, stretching her tight pussy even further. "do you like that?" he asked, his voice gruff with lust.
bianca nodded. “yes, chris, i love it,” she moaned, her eyes rolling back as she felt her legs start to shake. “chris, fuck, i’m-“
"cum for me, baby."
with one final push, bianca’s body convulsed violently, and she cried out his name as waves of pure ecstasy washed over her. her juices coated his hand and arm, leaving a sticky mess on the sheets.
chris smirked and lowered his head to kiss her sweetly on the lips. “you did so well, you know that?" he told her, his voice husky with satisfaction. as bianca caught her breath, he undressed himself quickly, revealing his hardened dick, which was dripping with pre-cum. "we’re not done yet, though, ma."
bianca moaned at the sight; she didn’t expect him to be that big. chris chuckled at her reaction and attached their lips together again. bianca moaned into the kiss sucking on his tongue as chris flipped them over so she was on top. she broke away from the kiss and looked at him in confusion.
“wha-“
he stopped her. "if i remember correctly, you said you rode me in your dream, hm?” he asked as she nodded her head.
chris grinned. "well, it’s also my dream for you to ride me. wanna see those tits bounce for me, ma.”
she nodded nervously, her hands shaking as she reached down to guide his cock into her tight entrance. slowly at first, bianca began to lower herself onto him, groaning softly as the head of his cock brushed against her sensitive spot.
“oh fuck," she gasped, her eyes wide with surprise and pleasure. "chris, you're huge."
“that’s it, ma,” he moaned back, his hands on her hips, guiding her up and down his length. "take it all."
bianca moaned and sank right down onto his lap, the pair both groaning as they looked down and realised their bodies were perfectly aligned. she slowly rode him up and down, her breasts swaying enticingly with each thrust.
his hands gripped her hips tightly, guiding her movements while his tongue traced along her neck and collarbone.
“that’s it baby," he panted, "ride me like you mean it."
bianca moved even faster, throwing her head back. “feels so good, daddy,” she moaned, and chris’s eyes darkened.
"that’s it, ma," he growled, his hands moving to cup her ass firmly, encouraging her to ride him harder.
bianca picked up the pace, her breasts slapping against his chest with each thrust. the rhythmic motion of their bodies created a symphony of sounds that filled the room—moans, gasps, and the wet slapping of flesh against flesh. their combined moans echoed off the walls, making them both lose themselves.
"i’m so close, chris." bianca gasped as he sucked on her nipple harshly.
"me too, baby," chris groaned, his own climax nearing. he increased the speed of his thrusts, matching her rhythm perfectly. their bodies slapped against each other in sync, creating a perfect rhythm of pleasure and desire.
bianca’s orgasm built up quickly, and she cried out his name as another powerful wave of ecstasy washed over her. her tight pussy contracted around his cock, milking him dry. when she finally came down from her high, she collapsed on top of him, panting heavily.
chris followed suit moments later, his own release filling her up completely. they lay there for a moment, their breathing gradually returning to normal.
“fuck that was.” bianca stuttered to out of it to even form a sentence.
chris chuckled and slowly pulled out of her. he headed towards the bathroom in the room, returned a moment later with a warm washcloth, and began gently wiping the mess they made off her thighs. bianca smiled softly, and once he was done, he helped her put her panties and bra back on.
he pecked her lips softly. "you okay?” he asked.
“never been better," she replied.
“good.” chris smiled. “but next time something happens, promise you’ll tell me instead of avoiding me?”
“if this is what happens afterwards, then I'll be telling you about every dream i have.”
。°✩
not a chris girl but this could of single handedly converted me
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lookingformoondrop · 5 months
Note
could i request a boyfriend!andrew graves x reader headcannons or scenarios? i LOVE TCOAAL🫶🫶
Boyfriend! Andrew Graves x Reader - Headcanons
TW: Andy has a foul mouth, reader gets groped, Andy is a little possessive, a tiny bit of violence (-is always the answer)
♥︎Notes: I'm kind of an idiot so if you notice something is spelled incorrectly, feel free to send me a dm so i can fix it (totally not at all referring to my first Yandere!Andy x Reader post where I spelled dark as darmfk ;-;). Also this is kind of short because so many people requested for Andy x Reader, so I didn't want to pull out all the stops. I hope this meets your expectations <3.♥︎
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The first thing you gotta to know about dating Andy, is that he's very touch starved.
I can just headcanon that due to his aloof personality and very broody behavior, he doesn't get many hugs...
So when you enter his life, best believe that Andy shows you this completely different side of him!
I'm talking.... Cuddling in the mornings till the point where you're almost late for work because he refuses to let you go.
I'm talking.... Andy being able to sense when you're about to go into the shower. His spidey-senses tingles, and the moment you're about to hop in, he's right there already getting his hair wet.
I'm talking.... Trapping you with his kisses when you're making food, definitely not noticing that he's causing you to burn dinner.
And no amount of protest can deter this man either.
Speaking of making food... Andrew is the master-chef of the house!
Now he's no Gorden Ramsey (as he likes to tell you whenever he makes you a sandwich), but everyone knows that one bite of his food is enough to make a sailor come back to the land.
So it's very nifty when you're sick and at home, in need to have someone take care of you.
The first time you ever got sick was when you and Andy were still living separately.
It was a Friday night, and it was supposed to be your 1-year anniversary with Andy. Unfortunately, due to some unhygienic biotch at the office, you caught a cold and had to cancel.
At first Andy didn't respond, instead leaving you on read. You felt bad, figuring that he was mad at you for canceling.
But lo' and behold, exactly 10 minutes later, that was a frantic sound of keys jiggling into the your front door.
You had gotten up from your couch-potato position to see the person who wanted to rush into your home so badly, when it occurred to you;
Andrew is the only one with another set of keys...
And with that realization, Andy burst through the door with a pharmacy store bag in one hand, and a grocery store bag in another.
In an instant, Andy made you take a disgusting amount of cold medicine, and blessed your cold home with the warmth and smell of spices and herbs (likely all from the soup).
When the food was ready, he sat you up with a pillow and hand-fed you soup for the rest of the night. You felt so bad for ruining your anniversary, but everytime you tried to apologize for it, Andrew would stuff your mouth with more soup and would say;
"I don't care about that romance and anniversary shit. We don't need to go to a fancy restaurant or an expensive place just to feel like we're honoring an important date. That date is important because it is our date. We don't need to one-up that memorable time just to remind everyone of how special it is... Y/N, you're crying into the soup."
Needless to say, you cried.
But Andrew doesn't just take care of you...You best believe he also protects.
Well, sorta.
You could be in a grocery store, at a Boba shop, in the mall, getting new shoes, it wouldn't matter, Andrew would always have his hand on your waist.
Be it because he saw someone look at you, doesn't matter who or how old they are, he'll always wrap his arms around you and whisper ever so softly, "You're mine..."
It has definitely given you some weird looks over the years, but you know he means well.
And if anyone ever actually looks at you funny? It's over for them.
Andrew will make it VERY clear that you're not to be messed with.
For example, a couple of months into your relationship, you were riding the train. Enjoying a simple conversation about suspicious neighbors and whatnot, when all of the sudden some guy came up behind you and tried groping you discreetly.
Andy noticed very quickly that all the blood drained from your face. He looked behind you and noticed the old geezer trying to get a hand full of someone way younger than them, and Andrew could feel every restraint in his body snap.
In an act of "self-defense" as told to the cops later on, Andrew punched the living daylights of the guy and sent him flying into a pole.
You fussed over Andy's fist for awhile, completely forgetting about how you felt. But the only thing Andy could think about was how he should've hit that guy harder.
When you guys were finally walking home, hand in hand, you leaned on Andrew.
"I'm sorry about today Andy... I didn't mean for you to get all banged up."
Andrew snorted, "My knuckle is a little scratched up, so what? That perverted asshole had it coming for him."
You kissed Andy's cheek, which granted you a dark blush from Andy, and a grin from you.
"Thank you Aaandy~" You brushed his hand with your thumb,
Being in a relationship with Andy is a little messy, and yes sometimes a little crazy. But no matter what happens, Andy will always stick by your side.
"You're welcome, sweetheart." Andy squeezed your hand in return.
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Thank you for the ask<3
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ashwhowrites · 13 days
Note
Eddie Munson x cheerleader! reader, what if they have been dating for 4 months, and Eddie is still getting adjusted to being with one of the most popular girls in highschool, so when he sees Steve at his girlfriend's house in her bedroom he loses it, he gets really angry at her bc he thought she was cheating on him or something, but Reader and Steve were just working together on some important project and due to that, they needed to spend time together. But Eddie didn't knew that, so he starts to ignore reader, stops giving her ride stop home, so Y/N goes to the trailer park to tell Eddie what's really going on, but Eddie doesn't seems interested in that, but reader convinces him to talk to her and she tells him about the project and Eddie realizes he's been acting like an idiot, but reader forgives him because he's her bf?
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting this angst but happy ending fic 🫶🏻
Project?
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Eddie knew dating one of the most popular girls in school was going to come with a lot of adjustments. He was at the very bottom of the social class, and now skyrocketed to the top in a flash.
He still couldn't believe he got Y/N to go out with him. She was a preppy cheerleader with a bright smile and an aura that everyone fell in love with. She had Eddie falling over his sneakers within seconds of smelling her perfume and the way her sweet voice said his name. He was shocked she knew who he was and gave him the time of the day.
Somehow throughout all the talking and flirting, they kissed and a relationship surfaced.
Four months passed and their relationship grew stronger by the day. Eddie has never felt more in love with someone, but also never felt more insecure within himself. He knew people adored his girlfriend and that many boys wished to be in his spot. If they were in the lower class like Eddie, he knew he already had one up on them. But the popular kids? He didn't have anything on them.
~~~
Eddie kept his jealousy to himself to not cause any fights or difficult discussions. But he was always so close to blowing at the seams.
"Hey Eds?" Y/N asked, she figured now was a horrible time to try to talk to him as he prepared for his campaign. It started in only ten minutes but she had a last minute plan she wanted him to be aware of.
"hm?" He mumbled, truthfully he wasn't listening. He heard his name and made a sound. His brain was too focused on the campaign ahead.
"Steve is coming over for a theater project. We have to do this love story. And I wanted to make sure you knew that it was strictly for class." She said, her stomach in nervous knots.
"All good. See you after!" He said, turning around to peck her lips before he went back to the campaign.
Well that went way better than she thought.
~~~
Eddie looked at his watch as he used the spare key to walk into Y/N's house. He knew her parents were away on vacation so he didn't have to worry about coming in unannounced.
He hummed a song in his head as he skipped up the stairs. Excitement in his bones to tell his girlfriend all about the campaign and its progress.
"...and when I look at you, I see the most beautiful girl in the world."
Eddie froze as he heard the sound of a male voice coming from his girlfriend's bedroom. The door was wide open and Eddie felt like he wanted to puke at the way Steve Harrington was holding his girlfriend's face in his hands. His heart broke more and more as she leaned into it and not away from it. They sat close on her bed, too cuddled for his liking.
"Are you saying you are in love with me?" She whispered, her eyes skimmed up and down Steve's face.
"Always have been." Steve whispered back, Eddie wasn't sure if they were about to kiss but he wasn't going to stand and watch.
"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Eddie screamed, within seconds he yanked Steve off the bed and threw him to the floor.
"WOAH DUDE!" Steve yelled, fright in his eyes.
"EDDIE! STOP!" Y/N screamed, she went to yank Eddie off but he refused to budge. He had Steve pinned to the floor, his fist aiming for his jaw.
"HE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!" Y/N screamed, grabbing Eddie as strongly as she could and shoved him off.
Eddie fell to the floor next to Steve, trying to ignore the sting he felt when she checked on Steve.
Eddie jumped up, anger in his body as a piercing noise rang through his ears.
"let me explain," Y/N sighed, she stood up calmly and that hit Eddie wrong. Why was she so chill about this? Why wasn't she crying and begging for forgiveness?
"I think I saw all that I needed to see. Enjoy Harrington, we are done." He sneered, he practically ran out of the room. She was quick to yell after him but he refused to stop. She followed him all the way out of the driveway, watching his van speed off at a law breaking speed.
~~~
A few days passed and Y/N couldn't get Eddie to speak one word to her. She called and called. She tried to talk to him in the halls but he'd walk away. She tried at lunch during a deal but he got up and left. He even stopped driving her home. She could have gotten a ride from Steve, but she knew that would make the situation worse. So she was stuck walking home.
The rain poured down as she walked out of the school building. No warning on the radar so she didn't have any good clothes or an umbrella. She growled to herself as she began to walk down the stairs.
Just great, she thought. Her boyfriend? Ex boyfriend? Was ignoring her, and it tore her apart. And now she had to walk home in the soaking rain.
She thought for a second, the trailer park was way closer than her house. She knew Eddie didn't want to see her, but maybe it was time she forced the boy to listen to her.
She walked through the mud of the trailer park and landed at Eddie's door. She knocked a few times, but stayed close to the door.
Eddie opened the door with a snarl but it lightly faded when he saw her shivering and holding herself warm.
"what in the hell are you doing?" He asked, slight concern in his voice. She allowed him to pull her inside.
"I'm here to talk to you!" She huffed, she removed her wet shoes and cringed at the wet clothes she was stuck in.
"in the rain?" He questioned.
"Look! Your house is way closer to school than mine and I didn't want to walk all the way home. Plus we needed to talk."
"Why didn't hairy boy Steve drive you?" Eddie said as he rolled his eyes.
"Because I knew that would hurt you, even if you have the wrong idea of what you saw, I wouldn't shove that in your face." She explained.
Eddie felt his hard shell slowly breaking. She chose to walk through the pouring rain to talk to him, and she chose to walk instead of asking Steve for a ride because she knew it would hurt him.
"I don't think I got the wrong idea!" Eddie scoffed, he turned around to march into his room.
Y/N quickly followed, "YOU CAN'T IGNORE ME!" she yelled after him. She figured he was going to slam his bedroom door after him, but he didn't.
Instead he grabbed a clean shirt and boxers from his laundry basket. All folded nicely so she knew Wayne recently did wash.
"Put these on so you don't catch a cold." He demanded. She thanked him and began to strip off her clothes. Eddie wasn't sure if it was his place to look or not, but he couldn't help himself. He'd admire her every day if he could.
"You do have the wrong idea, Steve and I were working on a project." She explained as she slipped Eddie's shirt over her bare chest.
"Is that slang for cheating?" Eddie scoffed. Y/N rolled her eyes and slipped on the boxers next. Throwing her soaked clothes on the floor.
"No, you idiot. It means we were working on a theater project, one that I told you about and even said it would be a romance. But apparently you chose not to listen." She defended herself, her arms crossed as she glared at him.
His defence was starting to break apart. He searched his brain for more questions.
"When? Because I don't recall such thing."
"Right before your campaign. You nodded along and kissed me goodbye. The same night you almost killed Steve." She explained.
"Oh really?"
"really!"
"oh really?"
"Really, Eddie."
"Well....I completely forgot about that." He said as he admitted defeat. He kinda remembered hearing her voice and the sound of Steve's name but nothing in between. He sat on his bed and hung his head in shame.
"We were acting. There's no one else. I love you. And even after you being a complete idiot." She said softly as she kneeled in front of him. She looked at his puppy eyes and softly kissed his cheek.
"Fuck, I'm sorry for losing my control like that. I'm sorry for not giving you a chance to explain. And I'm so sorry for not listening to you when you already explained everything to me. I acted like a dick." Eddie said, he truly felt guilty and embarrassed for how easy it all could have been avoided if he listened in the first place.
"I understand the fear and anger you had upon seeing what you did. But it's way better to communicate with me so we can fix it, yeah?"
"Definitely. If I ever see Steve making moves, I'll question before killing him." Eddie joked, he felt his stomach flip as she laughed into his lap. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest.
"Gee, thanks." She laughed.
"I love you too. Thank you for not giving up on me." He said into her hair.
He was granted a blessing, and he vowed to never ruin it.
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kamiversee · 1 month
Text
➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏
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✧.* CHAPTER 19 || The Halt of Something New
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[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?
[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, fluff, & angst.
[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 6.1k
[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.
[ [ chapters mlist } ]
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——YOU'RE AN IDIOT.
Did you really think that everything was going to be all sunshine and rainbows just because you have a crush on a guy who treats you right?
How humorous it is for you to have been worried about Choso using you as if that's not exactly what you're doing to him. Sure, you wish things were different and that you weren't technically using him but, it's the truth-- you are using the man.
Sleeping with Choso was a requirement for you. His name was just something you needed to cross off the list, a box in which needed to be checked.
And let's not forget, you have to go on and sleep with Sukuna sooner or later. Someone who Choso's related to, according to Gojo.
How the fuck are you going to pull that off?
By now, it's been approximately two months since you've been blackmailed. Going down your accomplishments so far, out of a total of seven men, Gojo included, you've got the majority of the list completed.
After that one night with Choso, you found it extremely difficult to move on to the next guy. You weren't expecting it to be this hard but, you just couldn't leave the man alone.
You spend all of your free time texting him or on the phone with him and whenever your schedules align with one another, the two of you are within each other's company.
Those rendezvous that you had with Geto came to a stop and you ended up sleeping with Choso more than anyone else.
From your apartment, to his car, to his apartment, to his art studio, and even to a vacant janitor's closet-- you and Choso have been fucking like rabbits. The guy couldn't get enough of you.
Sex aside, he couldn't get enough of everything about you. If Gojo was right about anything; Choso did in fact grow attached to you.
Thing is, you couldn't differentiate whether or not he was attached because of the sex or because of you in general. Either way, it wasn't good.
The two of you hung out often and you only got to know him more and more and more. Choso's a wonderful person and you view him as your way out of the dark and deep hole Gojo's dragged you down into.
Even so, you can't help but feel like something about Choso is... off.
His care for you often overshines it but you simply cannot ignore how odd some of his actions or phrases to you are. For example; after the first time you slept with him and he left, how did he get back into your apartment?
You never asked him about it but you do wonder sometimes. Did he take a key before he left? Or did he simply leave your door unlocked so that he could get back in? Either way, it's odd.
Then there are those prolonged stares of his. You can feel the way he drinks in every little detail on your face. At first, you thought it was an artistic thing, thinking that maybe he admires you so intently because he sees beauty.
But over time, it really begins to feel as though Choso's inspecting you, printing your facial expressions and smallest gestures in his brain.
These moments of intimate study over your features give you wavering fluctuates of emotions in your chest. Sometimes you enjoy his expressive eyes and other times you don't.
Even so, none of it makes you like him any less, it just makes you feel like the man sees right through you. Choso makes you feel like a piece of glass, especially when you're lying to him.
As much as you can, you avoid talking about anything or anyone regarding the list when you're around him but the few times you slip up, you swear Choso is able to see through all the bullshit. That's what makes you nervous.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
A wise person once said; ignorance is bliss. Such a phase is nothing more than true for a woman such as yourself.
You believe you know a lot about Choso. You also believe you know a lot about Gojo.
But the truth is, you don't. There's a long twisted and fucked up path ahead for you but your ignorance is what keeps you in a blissful state, shielding you from the twisted truths of the feelings being harbored for you.
Honestly, it isn't difficult for one to acknowledge Choso's obvious crush on you. However, you fail to see the depths of said crush.
In the time you spend getting to know him and being around him, you end up being very transparent with him, to which he reciprocates every time. At one point you admit to Choso that you've slept with others within the time you've known him, sparing the details of who (of course).
His response to that information was that there was another girl he had relations with named Yuki but he stopped fooling around with her around the same time he started having sex with you. It was kinda messy and somewhere deep down you think you were a bit jealous but you had no right to feel that way.
And while jealousy is the topic of narration; Choso subtly lets his show every now and then.
He's aware that you and he aren't in a relationship but that never stops him from pulling your body close to his when he sees someone staring at you, or giving someone a death stare as they speak to you, or even telling someone to fuck off whenever they try hitting on you.
Is it wrong of him to do so? Technically, yes. You're not his girlfriend so he has no right. But, do you stop him from doing any of those things? No. Do you secretly enjoy seeing him act this way? Perhaps.
Even so, Choso does try to keep his jealousy over the small things at an all-time low. The last thing he wanted you to see was how far his care for you really went.
And he had it under so much control until he saw the negative effect a specific person (Gojo) has on you...
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
In all honesty, you had forgotten about the list for a while as Choso's presence and your feelings for him consumed you. At least, until Gojo texted you.
Currently, you sit in the passenger seat of Choso's car, your fingers aggressively tapping at your phone screen as your mood sours from merely one text from your blackmailer.
The vehicle is parked not too far from your apartment complex as Choso had driven you home from a day spent at the museum. He said he needed to go there for research for one of his classes and invited you along but you can't deny the fact that the whole thing felt like a date.
Even so, Choso's in the driver's seat, his ears perking up at the sound of your fingers tapping so quickly and aggravatedly across your cell phone. The man can't help the burning curiosity he feels as he glances over to you.
With tensed brows, your jaw clearly clenched, and scoff after scoff leaving you in reaction to whatever's on your phone-- Choso finds it physically impossible not to feel the need to question you.
"Are you alright over there, love?" He asks carefully after hearing your sixth sigh in a row.
You don't even look up from your phone, too engrossed in Gojo's stupid concerns for you, "Mhm, I'm fine."
"Liar." Choso points out.
A frustrated little groan leaves your lips, "I'm fine, Choso." You repeat, your voice stern.
The man tilts his head, his eyes burning into the side of your face.
He stares for a while, having no response to your repeated lie to him. After a few minutes of simply watching you text back and forth with someone, Choso scoffs and tears his eyes off you.
He pulls out his phone and tries to distract himself from you and whoever's got your attention but it's no use. Scrolling through social media is impossible to focus on when all he hears is the annoyed sounds you keep letting out and the way you dryly laugh in anger at something.
The male doesn't even know why he's so hyper-focused on you like this. More than usual, Choso finds himself picking up on every little thing about you.
There's even this feeling he gets in his chest when he sees your attention elsewhere. He wonders if it's jealousy but it couldn't possibly be that when the two of you aren't in a relationship.
Reluctantly, his eyes find their way back to you again. His vision fixates on your hands, attentively watching each letter you tap on the screen.
Choso's able to put together the words you're typing out just from watching your fingers alone, gathering the message you typed that reads; 'Don't give me that bullshit about just wanting to check up on me. I already told you not to text me like this unless it's about the-' Your fingers had stopped moving.
Both of your eyes went wide as you received a sudden call, cutting off your rant. Choso doesn't mean to be nosy like this and it's almost instinctive the way his eyes search for who's calling you, only for that curious gaze of his to be obstructed by you quickly turning your phone off and dropping the device.
A deep groan leaves your lips as your phone slips slightly in between your thighs. You let it vibrate against your skin, completely ignoring Gojo's call.
You then look over at Choso and his eyes fly up to your face.
It's awkward the way you two stare at one another. He's wondering if he seems far too nosy having been all up in your phone and you're worried that he may have seen the messages you've typed and who just called you.
"Are you uh... not gonna pick that up?" Choso questions. Evident in his tone is this carefulness, as if his words were walking on eggshells.
"No." You answer curtly, "I'm actually about to block him."
"Him?" Choso repeats thoughtlessly.
The two of you freeze.
Choso didn't mean to let that slip. His bottom lip draws into his mouth in regret, having wanted to avoid feeling jealous over nothing. In his mind, he has no reason to exhibit such emotions when you're not his girlfriend-- a fact he constantly has to repeat to himself.
The male looks away from you after saying that, visibly letting his thoughts take over his words.
"Yes Choso, him." You reply, your tone cold.
You don't want to take your frustrations out on your crush but then again, the last thing you have time for is jealousy.
Your frosty gaze peers into the side of his face as he avoids looking at you after slipping up like that.
He figures he's already let one question loose so why not continue expressing himself? "Mind if I ask who's 'him'?" Choso questions.
Your brows push together and you open your mouth to reply but after a second of thought, your mouth shuts. You'd nearly said something out of aggravation and you had to hold your tongue to prevent any negative vibes between you and Choso.
With a sigh, you look away from the man. "Do you remember the asshole I told you about weeks ago?" You ask, tone soft but still holding your stress.
Of course he remembers, how could he not? You told him about said asshole during your first phone call with him, an event in which Choso could never forget.
"The one that made you cry?" Choso asks for confirmation, his voice dry as he recalls the unnamed man you always refer to as an asshole.
You hum, "Yeah, him."
Choso steadily looks over to you, his eyes sinking down to the buzzing phone in your lap, "I see." He replies. He then lifts his eyes to your face that's turned away from him, "Still don't like him, huh?"
"I told you before, I hate him." You explain.
"Then why're you just now about to block him?" Choso questions, his tone growing more dull.
You scoff, "I'm not in the best position to where I can actually block him."
"Why not?"
"Because there are things he and I still have to work out." You explain vaguely.
Choso blinks, his eyes darkening as his mood dips into something annoyed. "Is he an ex of yours or something?" The man asks you.
You turn your head to Choso with pinched brows and a scrunched-up face, "What? No."
"Mhm, right okay so, what do you still have to work out with him that prevents you from blocking him?"
You sigh heavily and flash a clearly annoyed smile, "Choso, while I appreciate your concern for me, I really don't feel like explaining right now."
Your crush grits his teeth and visibly bites back a response to that. There's a mix of genuine care and jealousy brimming inside him.
"Right. My bad," Choso resorts to sympathy. "Just know, if you need advice, I'm right here." He says with an emphasizing scoff.
For the first time since you've met him, Choso is aggravated. You're unsure of why he's upset when you have the right to be private about the context of a man who's upsetting you.
You're not obligated to explain anything to Choso. He knows that.
Though, that's not why he's upset. As he turns his head away from you and looks out his window in thought, Choso feels displeased at how some guy has you angered and the way you won't open up to him.
There's this need you feel within you to calm Choso down so, almost instinctively, you reach a hand over to his side and place it on his thigh-- watching the way his body stills under your touch.
Choso glances down at your hand and raises a brow.
You swallow, "I know you're right here and I know you can give me advice but..." Your hand slips upward along his leg in a comforting manner, "This isn't something you can help me with."
The sound of him clearing his throat as you touch him is heard. Choso rolls his hips a little, trying to comfort himself under your touch while your hand trails up.
"How uh... How do you know?" Choso hums, just barely taking his gaze away from your moving hand.
Your eyes meet his, "Cause' it's uhm... it's personal." You explain, grinning slightly.
You then lift your hand from his leg, to which he sighs, and grab a light hold of his chin. Your thumb rubs over his smooth skin and Choso just melts into your touch.
"Oh," He says, nodding slightly, "I get it..."
"Yeah, sorry-"
"Oi," Choso cuts off as he raises his hand to yours. His eyes are serious while he shifts to kiss your palm, "What'd I tell you about that?"
You chuckle, "About what? Apologizing?"
"Mhm. There's nothing for you to be sorry about." He tells you, "I get it, it's personal."
"It's a habit," You explain simply, nearly apologizing again.
"I've noticed."
A smile spreads across your face, your mood lifting, "Have you?"
"Course' I have," Choso says.
He then moves your hand, placing it back down on his thigh with his own resting on top. His fingers gently caress your smaller ones, eyes dropping down to the sight and his expression relaxing as he does so.
The tension in the car begins to dissipate as you and Choso find solace in one another's touch. The weight of the situation lifts and you feel a little less uneasy.
The warmth of Choso's hand on yours is comforting, providing you with a moment of relaxation. He never fails to change your mood.
Choso looks up to your face, "I notice everything about you, y'know."
Your smile widens, "Do you?"
"Yeah. I try to remember as much as I can." He tells you.
You raise a brow, "Why?"
"I don't call you my muse for no reason." Choso claims, "When I say that, I mean it artistically too."
Too, you repeat mentally. He's confirming that calling you his muse has always been meant in a romantic sense previously.
"Really? So do you have more paintings of me hidden somewhere or something?" You ask jokingly.
He laughs slightly, almost as if there may be some truth to what you just said. "Somethin' like that, yeah."
"Wait seriously?" You ask, your face brightening up at the thought.
"Yes. I find myself accidentally drawing your face quite often." Choso hums, looking back down to your connected hands as the tips of his ears redden.
You lean closer to him slightly, "Aw really??"
He clears his throat, "Yes, really. Do you uh... You wanna see?"
"Of course I do!" You beam.
He can't help but stammer as your excited expression is revealed to him. The way seeing you happy has him melting immediately is almost embarrassing.
Chuckling slightly, Choso nods his head to his bag on the floor in between your legs, "I have a sketchbook in there you can look through."
You don't hesitate to move for the item, quickly removing your hand from his thigh and diving it down to the bag on the floor. You unzip it and rapidly spot the book he's referring to, taking hold of the item and pulling it out.
As you do so, your phone keeps buzzing in your lap but every notification is ignored.
With a smile on your face, you hastily open the sketchbook and the first drawing you see is a picture of someone that makes your smile flicker. It's difficult to control your facial expression when the first image shown to you looks like a younger version of Sukuna without face tattoos.
You bat your eyelashes at it and open your mouth to say something but Choso makes up for your confusion by speaking first, "That's my little brother," He explains.
"Yuji, right?" You ask in return, having remembered the name from a previous conversation with Choso.
Any chance he's gotten to talk to you about his brothers, he's taken. Well, with an exception for Sukuna. The only reason you know they're related is because of Gojo, which concerns you since Choso always finds a way to talk about his siblings to you.
A big smile spreads across Choso's face, "Yeah, you remember his name?"
"Yep." You reply proudly, "And your other brother's names are Kechizu and Eso, right?"
Oh, the man's heart is simply fluttering at the fact that you remember his brothers' names. "Y-Yeah." Choso stammers, flashing you a gushing smile.
You flip to the next page of the sketchbook and see two more drawings of Yuji but at different angles. "I think I know who your favorite is..." You say teasingly.
Choso chuckles, "I don't have a favorite."
"These drawings say otherwise..." You hum as you continue to flip through the next few pages.
Other images of Yuji and Choso's other siblings appear and you can't help but smile at each one. Eventually, you get to a page where the drawings go from portraits to anatomy; more specifically, hands.
You notice that each hand seems to be his own, all in different positions and angles. Your eyes skim page after page until you come across a set of hands that appear more feminine than the rest.
A narrowed gaze inspects the paper a bit closer and you can't help but notice how the hands on the page resemble your own.
"Cho..." You call out, glancing over to the man, "Are these my hands?"
There's a light shade of pink on his face but his eyes are down on the sketchbook you're holding. "Mhm." Choso hums quietly.
His timidness makes you smile before you continue. Steadily, the focus of his sketches transitions back to portraits and you soon come across a drawing of you. You can't help but cheese at the sketch-- Choso draws your features so beautifully.
The male leans toward you a little, "Like it?" He asks.
Your smile doesn't waver for even a second, "Like it? Choso, I love the way you draw me."
Choso finds himself smiling at you, his heart simply pounding in his chest. "R-Really? Wow, thanks...? I'm happy you like it so much."
"Love, Choso," You correct, turning to look at him, "I love it."
He holds eye contact with you but his face goes red as you utter those words to him, "They're uh, they're not even that good though..."
"They are to me." You argue, looking back down to the page, "I look so pretty in your eyes."
"You're pretty in everyone's eyes, princess." Choso complements.
You chuckle, "That's cute but no, I'm not. Thank you though, I think you capture my face better than my phone, honestly."
"I disagree," Choso says.
You look at him. "Why?"
"Cause' I could illustrate your face a thousand times over but..." His gaze softens as he thinks for a second, "Something always feels like it's missing."
Your brows raise a little, "Like what?"
"I dunno, you? It's like they look like you but they don't feel like you and I'm struggling to express that feeling on paper." He explains, "Which is why I ended up choosing graphic design and not fine arts, I'd be losing my mind if my career was based on this..."
You laugh at him, "Yeah, I get it."
After which, you start flipping through page after page again, beginning to see what the man meant when he said he draws you often. You're pretty sure you've seen yourself with almost every facial expression and every angle by the time you reach the end of the sketchbook.
"Seems like you express the feeling of me just fine on paper," You point out, "Well, at least to me."
"Nah," Choso denies, raising his hand to your chin and forcing you to face him. His eyes scan your face, "Every drawing in there is missing something."
"If you say so," You chuckle.
The male pulls you toward him, weighing himself to you at the same time as his thumb moves to outline your mouth, "For example; your lips." Choso sighs.
You blink, "They looked fine to me."
He shakes his head, "When I draw them, they lack warmth."
"I mean... they're sketches Choso, I'm not sure how-"
"Your eyes," Choso unintentionally cuts off, still tracing your lips, "When I draw them, it feels like you're actually looking at me."
A snicker leaves you, "So are you supposed to feel me kissing you when you draw my lips?" You ask in a joking manner.
Choso smiles, "I wish but no, that's not what I'm trying to feel." He then shrugs, "I just want to draw how looking at your lips makes me feel."
"I'm not sure I understand, Cho." You sigh.
"Every time I look at your lips, I wanna kiss you. Every time I look into your eyes, I feel... vulnerable. In my sketches, I feel that same vulnerability as when I draw your eyes but then I feel nothing when I draw your lips," Choso explains in full.
"I see..."
"That's why I said they lack warmth. The sketches don't feel like you."
You nod understandingly, "I get what you mean now."
"Mhm. And y'know I think it's because I study your eyes more than your lips," Choso continues, his thumb pulling your bottom lip down. He then licks his lips, "Maybe if we made out more I'd be able to draw your lips better."
Your eyes widen for a moment, then you start laughing. "Choso, you did not just use your art as an excuse to kiss me."
He gives you a toothy smile, "Oh no, I definitely did."
You commend him for his excuse by leaning in toward him and tilting your head, slowly connecting your lips with his. Choso struggles to control his smile whilst you kiss him and his hands steadily go to your cheeks, cupping your face in his palms.
It's now you struggling not to smile as both of you kiss each other passionately.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
You wished every day could've stayed like that.
Such a time of bliss was something you'd been longing for amid your stressful troubles. To stay in Choso's arms for hours on end was something you'd plead for if it meant you could feel happy for some time.
Of course, all good things must come to an unfortunate end. And in your case, it wasn't an end but more of a... pause.
About one more week was the most you got to enjoy happiness with Choso. From your point of view, you could just not tell Gojo that you'd already slept with Choso, which prolonged the unlimited time you have for the list.
And it was wonderful not having to move on from Choso but, it did lead to a stronger attachment growing between the two of you.
It happened on a Friday afternoon. Something you stupidly didn't think about. A question you hadn't had an answer to, which led you down a path of regrettable decisions.
It was all fine at first. Shoko wasn't home, like always, and Choso was resting his head comfortably on your chest. His body lay slightly on top of yours and his arms were wrapped around you comfortably.
The two of you were watching TV together, almost like a couple in love. Whenever you laughed at something on the screen, Choso would smile at the sound and snuggle the side of his face into you.
At some point, an emotional scene came up on the TV and the words made the man on top of you begin to think. There was a couple arguing in the show about their relationship going public or something and damn the way it made Choso wonder.
For you, it was unexpected. The man shifted slightly, taking his eyes off the TV and looking around your room in thought.
After a moment, Choso spoke. "Hey, can I ask you something?" He requests.
Your eyebrows raise slightly as you look down at the man lying on you, "Depends," You tease, "What kinda' question is it?"
He chuckles, lightly but nervously. "It's uhm..." He moves around to glance up at you for only a few seconds, then he looks off to the side. "It's about us."
You bat your eyelashes at him and your heart freezes in your chest, "A-About us?"
"Mhm." He hums.
"Alright," You swallow, "What about us?"
Choso goes quiet. It's clear he's debating something, his eyes trail over to your face once more, and those sangria-colored eyes of his fill with uncertainty.
You return a curious stare to him before raising your hand to his face. Your thumb gently skims across the tattoo running along the bridge of his nose. Choso's hair is loose, dark strands messily flowing down and just barely reaching his shoulders.
Your small touch to his face provides him with this sudden sense of comfort, making him grin. "What is it, Cho?" You ask, your voice soft.
"What uh... No, I..." He trails off as he tries to find the right way to word his question. Choso swallows hard and shuts his eyes, "Okay. Do you like me?"
You chuckle at his sudden question, "I thought I made it pretty obvious..."
He sighs, "I'm being serious. Like, do you have feelings for me?"
"Uhm," You chew on your lower lip in thought.
Choso's eyes open and he takes in your expression, "Be honest with me, princess."
You smile, "Why are you asking me this all of a sudden?"
"Cause' I have feelings for you," Choso admits bluntly.
Your eyes go wide as if you didn't already know that. "O-Oh." You chirp.
"So," He sighs again, feeling as your thumb continues the gentle trace over his tattoo, "I wanted to know if you feel the same."
"I do," You whisper, seeing no way of avoiding this conversation.
Choso nods, "Yeah, I know." He then chuckles, "I just wanted to hear you say it."
You pout, "This isn't how I planned on confessing..."
"Welcome to my world," Choso hums teasingly. "Anyways, that wasn't my main question..."
"Oh?" Anxiety returns to your nerves again.
He stares up into your eyes, "See, I uh, I like what we have going on right now, I think..."
"You think?"
"Yeah, I like spending time with you, I like laughing with you, smiling with you..." His voice lowers and he glances off to the side, "I like fucking you," He murmurs softly before looking at you again, "I like it all, honestly."
"Okay... Where are you going with this Cho?" You question, your eyes narrowing a little.
He swallows, "Well... Do you like what we have going on?"
You're quick to nod, "Of course."
"Right so..." Choso bites his lower lip for a second, then releases it, "Is this all you want?"
You blink. "What uh... What do you mean?"
"I mean," The man shifts, pulling his face from your touch and propping himself up over you with his elbows, "There's no... label on us."
"Okay..." You trail off, worried about where this is going.
Choso sighs heavily, "How long are we going to be like this?"
"I-I don't know..."
"Don't you want to be something more?" Choso questions.
"I do," You hum, "But..."
His brows furrow and he tilts his head slightly, "But what?"
"Not..." Your voice lowers and you look away from him, "Not right now..."
He blinks, "Okay, but... can I know why?"
You shrug sheepishly, "I like what we have right now."
"I do too," Choso claims. "But, I'd also like it if we were... y'know..."
"If we were what?" You ask.
"Together." He answers straightforwardly.
Ah, here's what Gojo warned you about.
You chuckle slightly to try and ease the growing tension, "We are-"
"Officially." The man cuts off.
You look at him with pleading eyes, "Choso, we-"
"Publically." He cuts off again, his expression full of seriousness.
"So, what, you wanna date?" You ask.
Choso blinks, "Yes."
Your heart starts caving in. "T-This is an interesting way to ask me out, y'know..." You tease, again trying to ease the tension.
It's no use though, Choso's not in the mood to joke about this topic. He voices out your name in a low tone, making your body freeze beneath him.
"I'm not joking." Choso tells you, his eyes intimidating, "I wanna be yours."
Fuck, those words almost made you smile. Under any other predicament, you'd say yes in a heartbeat. But, you can't date Choso and finish the list at the same time.
You swallow hard and look away from him nervously, "Ch-Choso, I-"
"And I want people to know that I'm yours," He expresses. "Yes, I like what we have now but the unknown of it all... it bothers me."
"Unknown? Choso, we know what we have-"
"Do we?" He scoffs.
Your brows pinch together, "Yes?"
"I don't." He claims, "I mean, there's no title to it. I just can't help but wonder... What..." He sighs heavily and shuts his eyes again, "This is so cliche but, what are we?"
And there it was. The question you struggle to answer. It's a damn good question because, honestly, what are you two??
Choso lifts himself up some more before sitting up, "Are we fuck-buddies? Is that what this is?"
"N-No, we're-"
"Is this some kinda' situationship?" Choso asks further with a scoff, he seems upset now. "Cause' y'know, I'm just really confused. We hang out like friends one day, fuck like lovers another, and then..." He trails off, shrugging instead as he doesn't know what to say.
You move to sit up too. "I... Choso, I didn't realize you wanted to put a title on this..."
He narrows his eyes at you, "I didn't... at first. But then I found myself feeling weird when people stare at you whenever we go out or annoyed when your attention is elsewhere a-and... I can't say anything about this weird feeling because we're not in a relationship so..." Choso explains.
"Feeling weird? You mean jealousy??" You question further.
"Yes. That's exactly what it is, jealousy. I get jealous because of a lot of things and there's nothing I can do about it because we're just..." He pauses, then shrugs annoyed. "I don't even know."
You take a deep breath and keep your voice gentle, "So that's why you're upset, because you get jealous over things when you feel like we shouldn't and because you don't know what we are?"
"Yeah, pretty much," Choso tells you.
"Okay so-"
"Do you want me?" Choso cuts off, the question pouring out of him faster than he intends.
Your voice gets caught in your throat, "I... Of course-"
Choso moves again, his hands placed at the sides of your legs and his face coming closer to yours, "Then have me." He whispers passionately, "If you want me, have me.”
"I can't..." You murmur.
His gaze switches focus back and forth between your left and right eye, "But you can." He argues, moving to take one of your hands and hold it against his chest, "I'm all yours, I just need you to claim me."
You frown at the needs prodding at your insides. You want nothing more than to do such a thing but you can't.
Choso inches his face closer, his head tipping to the side and his lips nearing yours, "Tell me I'm yours," He whispers, now moving your hand to his cheek, "Let me be your boyfriend."
You inhale heavily, your breath shaking as you do so. "Choso..."
"Yes, princess?"
"I... I can't." You tell him regrettably.
Choso grits his teeth before turning his face to kiss your palm, "Why?" He whispers, "Tell me why we can't be together?"
Your heart throbs in your chest as you come up with the only excuse you can, "I can't do a relationship right now."
A moment of silence envelopes the two of you as Choso sighs into your hand with his eyes shut. He then pulls away slightly for just a second to shake his head in disbelief before planting a kiss on your palm.
"Right..." Choso mumbles into you, "Okay."
He then releases your hand carefully and turns his face to yours. You both meet eyes and he can see all forms of sadness within your gaze. Choso feels his heart waning at the sight.
Slowly, the man shuts his eyes and kisses you. You're not sure why he does it but you definitely don't fight it, kissing him back tenderly.
Choso parts from your lips slightly and whispers against your skin, "Whenever you're ready," He begins, causing you to frown immediately.
"Ch-Choso please-"
"You can call me," He continues, "I'll be there for you in a heartbeat."
You feel as though you're about to cry, "Are you... leaving me?" You whisper.
He nods, "I'm sorry."
Your hands go to his face again, cupping his cheeks in your hold as if to convince him not to, "Choso please, I just..."
His hands move to your wrists and he gives you a soft squeeze, "I can't do uncertainty so," Choso gives you one last peck on the lips, "I gotta go."
Another kiss is placed upon your lips and you try to push yourself further into it so that the connection never ends. Choso's heart feels heavy as his lips pry from yours.
With one final look into your eyes and a somber grin, Choso pulls your hands off his face. He then releases your wrists and moves to get off your bed.
You quietly watch him grab his stuff and move toward your bedroom door.
He then turns back to look at you one last time, "When you're ready for a relationship, I promise I'll be here."
You release a shaky sigh, "Please don't leave."
He frowns, "I can't stay."
"Choso..."
"I'm sorry, baby." He apologizes gently.
You bite your bottom lip, holding back the tears that threaten to pour out of your eyes.
With one last gaze and sigh, Choso tears his eyes off you and walks out.
And there you're left; alone.
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GOJO SATORU ✔︎
GETO SUGURU ✔︎
TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎
KAMO CHOSO ✔︎
NANAMI KENTO ☐
??? SUKUNA ☐
??? NAOYA ☐
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mlist || previous chapt || next chpt
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forbidden-sunlight · 2 months
Text
yandere! holy knight with saintess!reader scenario [part three]
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warnings: obsessive behavior, profane language, religious themes, implied manipulation, physical harassment.
There may be possible triggers in this story.
If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile devoice or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.
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MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
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Part One
Part Two
Epilogue
Hey guys, welcome to part three of this collaborated series with @deathmetalunicorn1! I am currently on break and won't be back until the 14th, but I figured that since I had recently finished this, might as well post it for everyone to enjoy! I will make a post when I come back, so no worries, I'm not going anywhere yet~!
On another note, please keep in mind that no bullying is tolerated on here. If there is, then this segment and the other chapters will be removed in its entirety.
So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what will happen in today's episode :)
Yoo Kyung-Mi had been born with beauty and was taught to use it to her advantage. Her mother knew what she was talking about. Why else did she remarry a wealthy man and make their lives so much easier? It was so much better than barely getting by on their own, trapped in a dingy apartment and worrying if there will be enough food money until the next paycheck. Kyung-Mi went to university, found work at a gaming company and subsequently, a shadow to use to elevate her reputation. A lackey really, but she preferred the term shadow. It sounded much nicer. 
Her shadow was another game designer; instead of being the literal, living example of a dowdy-looking office worker, her shadow wore nice clothes. She always treated everyone equally in their department, helped whenever she could with their next project and had a nasty temper when provoked. Yoo Kyung-Mi found this out the hard way when she borrowed a coworker’s proposal and presented it at the next meeting, elevating her status as the director in charge of Labyrinth of Love. Her shadow had the fucking nerve to show her the security footage of her being at that extra’s computer, downloading the sample from the desktop and storing it in a flashdrive. 
She tried to deny it, playing the cute card of forgetting to mention the extra as being a collaborator because she was so stressed about the meeting before telling the shadow to make sure to finish her proposal on time because time was money. And then the fucking bitch grabbed her by the hair and slammed her forehead against the wall!  Her, the goddamned director! She could fire the shadow’s ass if she wanted to! This was workplace harassment! 
“You’re not the director yet, you idiot.” The shadow whispered in the shell of her ear. “That was an informal announcement, so you’re still an equal amongst us commoners. Honestly Kyung-Mi, when are you going to stop masquerading people’s creations as your own? I’ve told you back in university, during those seminars, that it would bite you in the ass. But you don’t listen.” 
“You wouldn’t be anywhere without me! You cannot live without me!” She spat. Then the shadow backed off, leaving the office as there hadn’t been a confrontation in the first place. Kyung-Mi didn’t know if the shadow was fucking mental or just didn’t give a shit about getting laid off….but she needed her shadow. It was her shadow’s creativity, like everyone else in the company, that helped MorpheusTech make millions from their products. Without them, there wouldn’t be any money. And Kyung-Mi wouldn’t have any ‘inspiration’ to elevate her status in the company. Tit for tat. 
On Monday morning, the shadow presented to the board with a game of her own. And everyone fucking loved it more than hers. Claimed that it was a breath of fresh air from the classic otome game formula. More interactions with the extra characters plus the main cast? And your choices will either boost the gamer’s stats like the Affection Meter, Morale, Reputation, or lower them? It would only be available on their digital store, and they could offer free demos to TubeTubers who have played their products in the past? Sold. The Labyrinth of Love was put on indefinite hiatus. Greenlight Fly Me To The Moon. Give her shadow everything she needs to make sure this project is a success. The company was counting on you, Kyung-Mi. Honored beauty. 
So she did. She stayed late at the office when it was past time for her to go home or go on a date. She missed her massage appointments, her precious Sundays had spent at home working on fine-tuning the game mechanics instead of shopping. Her toys started to lose interest in her. Yet she preserved because she was the heroine in this world and she would not lose.
But the final straw that broke the camel back had been all the shadow’s fault. 
Kyuing-Mi had been eyeing the gorgeous hunk Young-Min from Human Resources for a while. Tall, dark, and looked absolutely ripped in that three-piece Armani suit of his. Oh, did she mention that he was rich and super sweet? Well, now you know. When she had finally mustered the courage to approach him and confess her feelings for him (maybe use him to get rid of a certain someone), she found him with the shadow. He asked the shadow if they could get a cup of coffee later, averting his eyes and looking bashfully at the shadow. His face resembled a tomato when the shadow accepted the invitation, when the shadow smiled at him, and left to go on their break.
Honestly, the shadow should have realized that coveting someone who didn’t belong to her meant being bludgeoned from behind with a stapler. Kyung-Mi will admit that she did….she was a little angry. But if the shadow is dead, the villainess is dead, then that means she has finally everything. Not. She lost everything and got hit by a truck while crossing a busy intersection, desperately trying to search for a job before she lost her townhouse. 
Yet there was always a light at the end of the tunnel, right? Why else would she be here, possessing the heroine of Fly Me To The Moon, Cosette Lovelace? Sure, her character is supposed to be a gamer who got sucked into here and must clear it as a redeemed villainess, but where is the fun in that? All Kyung-Mi wanted to do was pursue after her bias, Sir Palamedes the second-in-command of the Holy Temple’s paladins. 
Of all the capture targets that were created in the shadow’s game, this is the one she had spent most of the time designing and writing both tragic and smutty endings with him. Thank God the shadow never knew that Sir Palamedes’ character concept looked exactly like Young-Min, from his mannerisms right down his little tic of fiddling with his hands when he was nervous.
Obsessed? No, she was observant, thank you. 
With the help of the Affection Level System, her own little playthrough guide, she was able to achieve the objectives needed to enter the Holy Temple of Aesir and unlock Sir Palamedes’ route. Everything was going smoothly until that damned extra, Harry or Harrow, had stopped her from staking her claim on Sir Palamedes. She threw something in her face, and she passed out on the floor. When she, Cosette, regained consciousness, it was almost nightfall. 
Swearing under her breath, she scrambled upright and smoothed out her grass stained skirts before all but running towards the cloisters leading back to her new private quarters. However, from seemingly out of nowhere, two older Sisters flanked her, blocking her path. She was about to turn up the innocent charm, claiming that she hadn’t meant to fall asleep under the tree with a cute  smile  when both of them wordlessly grabbed by the shoulders and hauled her into a cell. A fucking cell! Her! The heroine! 
She asked for food, and was given bread with water. When she was cold, she received a blanket and was left alone until morning. The same Sisters came back, grabbed her again and took her to the sanctuary. The pews were filled, every Brother and Sister was in attendance. The paladins circled around the altar. Her precious High Priest was there, and was her bias. So that fucking extra Harry. 
She frowned. “My flock, what is the meaning of this -” She didn’t get a chance to finish her question because a bolt of white-hot pain seared through her body. What in the world?! She looked down at the floor and there were runes under her feet, then glared back at the Sisters balefully. They had pushed her into a magic circle. How dare they do this to her?! 
Staggering to her feet, she turned her attention to the High Priest. “Father, why am I being subjected to this treatment? What have I done to you, to this congregation?!”  
“You dare to ask such a thing when the crimes against our Brothers and Sisters are so heinous that I cannot repeat them?” Harry said. She looked like shit, honestly, and she probably would look worse if she had that stupid blindfold removed. 
Yoo Kyung-Mi had never seen this character in the game, even in the demo trails….so why does Harry look so damned familiar? 
She watched Harry step forward from behind the altar, past the High Priest and Sir Palamedes. She walked down the steps, and stopped just a few feet away from the magic circle. 
“You know what you have done, Sister Esther. No…You are not worthy of being called a Sister of this Holy Temple. You are a heretic, a liar, and an adulterous beast who has dared to try and defile one of us by using an Asmodian Seed. Where and how did you acquire it?”
“I have no idea what you are talking about-” That was when the pain began again. “You-” And again. Fuck, this hurts. It really hurts. 
“Please answer the question and do not try to be clever with your answers lest you actually enjoy being in pain.” Harry said peevishly. “You know what it is because you were the one who had implanted inside Sir Palamedes. Is this not true?” Harry raised her voice. “Were you affected by this wickedness, Sir Palamedes?”
Her precious bias nodded, his beautiful violet eyes hard and cold. “I was, Lady Harrowhark, and swear by the Oath of Fidelity that I was its intended victim. I dare not think what would have happened, if you had not been there to save me.”
“You heard him. Answer truthfully this time.”
So she did. She spat in the bitch’s face. “Allow me to ask you a question, Harry. Who the fuck are you to give me orders?”
Applauded gasps and murmurs bounced across the temple’s walls. One Sister fainted from hearing such profane language, having to be carried out by two of her closest Brothers. 
But Harry didn’t react. 
Instead, she withdrew a handkerchief from her robes pockets and carefully wiped away the spit. Once she was done, she pocketed the dirty rag. Then she lifted her hands up and moved them to the back of her head, untying the mother-of-pearl cloth. She pulled it down, and two eyes that sparked like a pair of sapphires stared right at her.  Sapphires. Eyes. Cosette, Yoo Kyung-Mi, felt her heart drop into her stomach at seeing those eyes. 
The eyes that belonged to the shadow. The eyes Young-Min said were so beautiful that they took his breath away. 
“I am Reverend Sister Harrowhark, God’s Beloved. I am the Possessor of His Eyes -”
“WHY CAN’T YOU JUST FUCKING DIE ALREADY?!?” Kyung-Mi screamed. “YOU TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME, STOLE FROM ME, AND YOU HAVE THE GODDAMNED NERVE TO LEAVE A PIECE OF YOURSELF IN THIS GAME?!” 
“Heretic -”
“YES, I GAVE IT TO HIM! I GAVE SIR PALAMEDES THE ASOMEDIAN SEED BECAUSE I WANTED HIM! IF HE WERE DEFILED, HE WOULD HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO MARRY ME, AND I WOULD FINALLY BEAT YOU! YOU WERE ALWAYS MY SHADOW! YOU WERE NEVER SUPPOSED TO COVET WHAT WAS MINE, YET YOU KEPT TAKING EVERYTHING AWAY FROM ME! IS THAT A GOOD ENOUGH ANSWER, YOU BITCH?!” 
Harrowhark’s mouth closed, tightening into a thin line before she averted her gaze towards the choir pews, where three cloaked figures sat in silence. “Does this outburst suffice as a confession, Your Imperial Highness?” She asked them. 
The one on the right stood up, pulling back his hood and revealing himself to be, indeed, The Glorious Sun of the Helux Empire, Emperor Maximus IV. A tall, broad-shouldered man with golden hair and possessed one ruby eye. He had lost his left one in a war. That was all she knew about him. 
But seeing the  identities of his companions, once they pulled back their hoods, that brought Kyung-Mi’s muddled brain back to reality: her parents, Viscount and Viscountess Lovelace. Shit. Fuck. FUCK!
“It does. Words cannot express my anger and disgust at the thought that such a heinous crime would be enacted in the House of Aesir. Allow me, Your Holiness, to carry out her punishment here and now.”
Harrowhark frowned. “Your Imperial Highness -”
“I am already here, Your Holiness. And I have only exercised my royal authority once since I ascended to the throne twenty years ago. If it makes you uncomfortable to do it in the presence of the congregation, I am more than happy to privately announce these crimes in the palace’s interrogation chambers. It is your choice, Your Holiness.” He, the most powerful man in the Empire, lowered his head to Harrowhark. 
Harrowhark sighed. “I beseech you to not address me in such a manner Your Imperial Highness, nor to humble yourself in my presence. In the Holy Temple of Aesir, we are equal under His Eye. Please, raise your head.” The Emperor did. “In regards to the heretic…she must never darken the footsteps of these sacred grounds again, or anywhere else. What happens within the circle of nobility is no concern of mine. The church cannot be intertwined with matters of the state. We are from entirely different worlds, but we must work together to ensure that our people live in peace. Is this a satisfactory answer, Your Imperial Highness?” 
Kyung-Mi choked on her saliva. It would be awful to be separated from her bias, but to also have her silver spoon being taken from her too? She did not want to spend her second life struggling to make a living! She is supposed to be the most beloved person in this game! Everything is supposed to go her way, not Harry’s!
She watched in anxious anticipation as the Emperor, The High Priest, and her parents huddled together, speaking softly until they separated. The Viscount and Viscountess stepped to the side as the others stepped forward. 
The Head Priest glanced around the congregation, raising his arms as he spoke. “Cosette Lovelace, daughter of Viscount Lovelace. For your crimes and heresy against this most holy place, you are excommunicated from the Holy Temple of Aesir until the end of your days. May Aesir forgive you, because…in my heart, at this moment, I cannot bring myself to do so.”
He then stepped back, and the Emperor stepped forward. 
The Emperor inhaled a deep breath, closing his eye for a moment before addressing the congregation. As he did so, palace guards entered from opposite sides of the chapel near the altar. 
“I, Emperor Maximus IV, hereby use my authority in the Holy Temple of Aesir under the witness of all those in attendance. I condemn you to live the rest of your days in prison, in a cell with no windows. You tried to bring darkness to this sacred sanctuary, therefore, you will spend the rest of your days in darkness.” 
Kyung-Mi’s knees buckled, collapsing onto the carpeted floor as she stared at the Emperor in shock. No. No, this can’t be happening! I’m the heroine! I’m supposed to live a life of luxury! I can’t go to jail!  When she saw her parents descend down the stairs, her anxiety slowly dissipated into hope. No. Not yet! They love me! They wouldn’t allow their only child to starve on the streets like a beggar or rot until she was an old hag, right?!
CRACK.
Kyung-Mi’s face stung from the slap she’d just received from her mother. Quivering, she touched the reddening cheek, peering through the curtain of her blue hair at her parents. Her mother was sobbing quietly, covering her face in her hands as her father wrapped his arm around his wife’s quivering shoulders. 
“You are no daughter of mine.” That was all he said before he left alongside his sobbing wife. They left her. They fucking abandoned her when she needed him the most, these….these bastards! WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO HER? WHY DOES EVERYTHING HAVE TO GO THE SHADOW’S WAY? IS IT SO AWFUL TO HAVE A HAPPILY EVER AFTER OF HER OWN?!
Then she screamed. She screamed and kicked and cried as the Emperor’s guards tied ropes around her wrists, dragging her down the aisle, towards the doors. Kyung-Mi looked over her shoulder, tears spilling down her face as she stared at Sir Palamedes, hoping Young-Mi would understand she made a mistake and just wanted to be with him, please please save her. 
But he did not look at her with tenderness and devotion as he had in the demo version of the game. Sir Palamedes stood rigidly by Harrowhark’s side, a hand resting on the hilt of his sword, his eyes cold and guarded. 
It was over. She had lost again. Fuck. FUCK!
©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2024
Taglist: @sweetbatherodonkey @lxdymoon0357 @certifiedsimpinggalore @queenmimis @amidst-the-tempest @mochinon-yah @tonightwrites @yandere-dark-cupid @average-yandere-enjoyer @thatstrangesheep @faux-ecrivain @cassanderasblog @navierkalani
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yanwriter-archive · 10 months
Note
Can I request a yan! Soap, Ghost, and König all liking the same reader? Maybe they have a shared dislike for a new soldier trying to hit on her
Three stones, one bird.
Warnings: Obsessive love, Gore, manipulation
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God must have cursed the blood in your veins for you to have caught the attention of three violent, scary, men like Soap, Ghost and König. Whether you think they could share is up to your personal wants, but once an outsider comes in view, especially someone as lowly as a rookie recruit? Their plans are now on hold until this problem is taken care of.
Soap is the most vocal of his distaste at first. It comes off of a casual jealousy, and it can even be seen as cute or silly. Yet, the pure hatred in his eyes tell a whole different story then what he lets on.
König tends to let it boil inside. Honestly, if you didn't see how intense his stare was when you were talking to them, you wouldn't know at all how he was feeling. That's how he wants it.
Ghost understands, he really does. Being on base so long and seeing someone as attractive as you? He can't fault them at all. But his tightly closed fists hovering over his knife when the recruit gets a little too close reminds them that it doesn't matter if he understands.
Now, the recruit still proceeds. Does he really think he can go up agist them? That he actually has a chance? Or is he just stupid. It really doesn't matter, because they take it as a threat.
-
The night is dark, and the chilly air slowly seeps into the building, leaving a draft. The hallway is dim, and most people have already left. You would have left too if the new recruit, Kevin, hadn't stopped you.
"Sorry, you're probably in a hurry to get back," he chuckles softly.
You shake your head. "It's okay, what did you need?"
"Well, I just wanted to..." His eyes raise up and he notices someone behind you. Before you can look, he continues in a much more confident manner. "Would you like to go out this Saturday?"
You pause to think about it. "Yeah, okay, sounds like fun!"
He glances back behind you, a prideful look in his eyes.
"Great! I'll text you the information!" He grabs your hand and places a kiss on your knuckle. "Until then, love." He leaves, giving a wink to the person behind you.
You turn to leave, realizing that Simon was behind you.
"Sorry! Didn't see you there!" You give a polite smile and head on your way.
Simon stays there for a while, his dark eyes lacking any emotion.
Ah, so not only is he an idiot, but he also thinks he has a chance and wants to brag about it.
Simon waits for a moment more before pulling out his phone.
-
Kevin awakes at the loud bang at his door. Slowly, he walks to the door. He knows who it is. You can't flirt with Ghost's interest and get away with it, but he knew that. Kevin almost laughs at how predictable Ghost is.
"I was wondering when you were going to show-" His words were knocked out of his mouth as soon as his door was opened. He didn't predict that Soap and König would be on the other side.
Blood leaked out of his mouth where soap had hit him, and he wondered if he really did fuck up.
"What happened to your smugness? Thought you were askin' for a fight?" Soap stepped into his room. "I've been wantin' to do this for a long while." Soap says, stretching out the word long.
"Pathetic." König's voice rung out, rattling Kevins body. "You thought you were actually good enough for them? You aren't even good enough to feed the worms that live underneath the soil they stand on."
"Are you seriously doing this because of one person? You're fucking crazy." Kevin spits out some blood, "Listen I'm sorry, I was just trying to bang a hot-" His voice was cut off once again by soap's fist, sending him lying on the floor.
"Maybe you only hang around sleezy people, but they aren't somethin' you just bang." Soap sends another punch, this time sending two teeth down Kevin's throat. "Scum."
His scream rings out as König's heavy boot comes down on his leg, a sicking snap following. "It's also unforgivable if you say that you just want to fool her and break her heart."
The sheer force of König's stomp had broken his leg in half.
A new voice appears, as loud footsteps enter the room.
"You learn your lesson?" Simon questions, his eyes holding that same look as before.
"Yes! Please stop, please!" Kevin cries out.
"Good." Simon reaches a hand for Kevin to take. He grabs it, hoping to be pulled up and brought to get help, but his hope is crushed when Ghost yanks him, twisting his arm and swiftly breaking it too.
"Stay the fuck away from them."
-
You were feeling sour as Sunday arrived. Kevin had gotten into a fight with another new recruit and ended up with a broken arm and leg. On top of that, he would rather run away than admit that he completely ignored you all week.
Your mood shifted when Soap suggested hanging out with Ghost, König, and him. That sounded better than spending time with someone like Kevin. Besides, you always felt safer when you were with them.
At least that's what they wanted you to think.
A/N Note: I'm not feeling this one, but I figured I post it anyways.
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bleedingoptimism · 5 months
Text
Calling Eddie on the phone that first time, when he’d panicked about Tarja’s cold, was like opening a dam. They start talking on the phone all the time. At first, it’s always about Tarja, photos of her drawings, a story about school, questions of whether she forgot her plushie in Steve’s car again or not.
But then it’s just them chatting, asking about their day, showing each other what they are working on, or sharing a meme. Soon, they start wishing each other goodnight and Steve knows he’s stepping into deep water with both feet at the same time but he can’t stop.
He likes Eddie, a lot. He’s in too deep already. He was already halfway in love with him when he realized he liked him as much more than a friend… That he liked him much more than he liked his own boyfriend. That he doesn't even like his boyfriend…
But if Steve was dreading breaking up with Tommy not to lose Tarja… now that he has double the people to lose… There’s no way.  Thinking about not seeing them again makes him feel like he’ll never be able to take a full breath of fresh air again. 
They are hanging out at the park the day Steve completely loses control of the situation. He’d promised Tarja he’d take her there last week and Tarja had begged Eddie to join them so now, they are sitting side by side on a bench watching Tarja build sand castles with another kid in the playground.
The comfortable silence gets interrupted by Steve’s phone going off and, checking his messages, he sighs, already bothered by seeing it’s from Tommy.
‘get your big pretty ass home soon. i have guests tonight’
‘Big? Shit. Is my ass too big?’ He thinks as he frowns at his phone.
“Everything ok?” Eddie asks, looking at him curious.  
“We need to get back, it’s Tommy” is all Steve says, shaking his phone in explanation. He can’t help but pull a face of exasperation trying to make light of the situation but Eddie frowns.
“Steve, about Tommy… If he’s not good to yo-” 
“You sound like Robin” Steve interrupts, he’s talked to Eddie about his best friend before, but he never mentioned Robin is always telling him to break up with Tommy. 
“Well, then I’m not that far off am I?” Eddie presses kindly, ducking his head to try and catch Steve’s eyes.
But Steve keeps them fixed on his shoes. There’s a stain on the tip of his left one. 
Eddie takes his silence as agreement and keeps going, “Why haven’t you broken up with him, then?”
Why does Eddie want him to break up with Tommy? Is he trying to get rid of him? Does he not like him around? No, it’s not that. Eddie is his friend, he’s kind and lovely and has never once been mean or rude to him and Steve needs to stop projecting.
But, he can’t answer that or tell Eddie the truth, he thinks. And then, his eyes betray him, drifting from the floor to Tarja, who is now…being buried in the sand with the help of the other kid. Her little feet kick up as she giggles delighted. He smiles to himself a little. That kid, she’s a menace.
Eddie gasps and Steve realizes his mistake. He looks at him and Eddie is looking back, eyes huge,
“Steve… don’t tell me, it’s-”
Steve shakes his head no frantically, “No, it's not- there’s a lot of reasons! It’s not- Ugh fine, it’s not only because of her but, she’s one of the reasons…” he struggles to say.
And then he shrugs, like ‘What can you do? Hehe’ Because he’s an idiot.
Eddie stares at him for a long time, unblinking and with his mouth half open, “You’d do that for her?” he whispers and it sounds so… raw.
Steve just looks at him, not knowing what to say and trying really hard not to get distracted by Eddie’s beautiful lips.
He suddenly turns to face him properly and takes Steve’s hand with both of his, “Fuck, Steve…” he says and then closes his mouth shut and opens it again. Steve leans a little closer eager to hear whatever Eddie wants to say but then his phone rings and he jumps off his seat, startled.
Looking at the caller ID, he curses, “It’s Tommy”
He picks up the call and starts walking in a big circle, he can never sit still while on the phone,
“Hey,”
“Hey dummy, you didn’t answer. Is everything ok?” Tommy asks like he’s actually worried and not just impatient.
‘Dummy’... it’s supposed to be affectionate but every time Tommy calls him that it feels like he’s sticking a needle in his heart.
“Yeah, we are at the park, we’ll be right there. I’m-” But Tommy hangs up before he can finish the sentence. 
“Asshole,” Steve murmurs to himself and looks back to see Eddie has already collected Tarja and is waiting for him.
Seeing both of them holding hands and smiling up at him makes Steve want to cry and scream at how much he needs them. He’s so fucked.
🧸
A week later, he’s at a dinner with Tommy and Tommy’s coworkers. 
Because Tommy doesn’t have friends, he has coworkers. Because friends are for children.
Or so Tommy says… Fuck Tommy.
He’s bored out of his mind and pushing his food around on his plate. Lost his appetite after Tommy looked at him funny for ordering fries instead of a salad. 
He can’t stop thinking about Eddie, about him asking why he hadn’t broken up with Tommy yet, and about whatever it was that Eddie didn’t say that day.
And then, as if it were fate or something, he gets a message from Eddie, he looks at it under the table when he sees it’s a photo. Not that Eddie would send him a nude or something he just doesn’t want anyone else to see.
However, he might’ve been wrong about the nude because Eddie is shirtless in the photo he sent, Steve notices with burning cheeks.
But the photo is not sensual at all. Instead, it’s the cutest, loveliest thing he’s ever seen in his life. It’s Eddie and Tarja standing in front of the big mirror in Eddie’s hallway with big smiles, identical dimples on their right cheeks. Both their curly hairs are bundled up on top of their heads and they are covered in paint. 
All of Eddie’s tattoos are colored in bright colors, his demon skull, the sword, the dragon, the goat, the vines that adorn his top scars, everything. The colors don’t respect the lines and the paint is dripping a little, clearly Tarja’s work. Meanwhile, she has cute skulls, bats, and roses drawn on her arms, and her freckles are now every color of the rainbow. They are fucking beautiful.
The text below says ‘she forgot toothless at tommy’s. im trying to distract her’
Steve bites his lip to hide a big smile and sends at least a hundred heart eyes emojis and then answers he’ll bring it back later.
“Are we boring you, Steve?” One of Tommy’s coworkers asks. He can hear the venom in her voice.
‘Yes’
“No, not at all. Just answering a text,” he says with a closed-lip smile.
“Oh! Let me guess, from your ‘job’” she laughs, doing air quotes with her claws, and then whines, putting on a voice, “Help me, Steve! I can’t decide what to wear to a party” 
They all laugh, Tommy included and Steve just glares at her unsure if he should rise to the bait or not. 
“Aww, don’t be mad Stevie,” she coos at him, “I’m just messing with ya!” she smirks and then looks at her nails as if she were a disney villain or something, “I wished I’d gone to college for something as simple as fashion. You are very lucky to be so successful,” And they laugh again. Only one of them has the decency of looking uncertain about it and Steve is seething.
Lucky?! He’s worked his ass off to get to- whatever- he takes a deep breath and smiles at her.
God, fuck his people. They are so… miserable.
Making other people feel bad about themselves just because there’s no joy in their own lives. He feels sorry for them.
But Tommy laughing alongside them makes him feel sick to his stomach.
After, when they are going back to his place, Tommy takes one hand off the wheel and puts it on Steve’s thigh slowly going up. Steve briefly considers opening the door and jumping out of the car in motion but ends up just slapping Tommy’s hand off of him aggressively.
Tommy scoffs but he doesn’t say anything and keeps his hands to himself the rest of the way. And when they get home, he confronts Steve, “What’s got your panties in a bunch now, uh? Steve, we haven’t fucked in weeks!”
Steve swirls around and laughs, “Are you shitting me right now?! You want me to let you touch me!? After how you just laughed at the way Carol talked to me?” he says.
“Uhg, not this again! Did you get your feelings hurt again, princess?” Tommy mocks him and Steve rolls his eyes so hard he wishes he could do a backflip to accompany them. Hell, he probably could.
He doesn’t even bother answering Tommy, too sick of his shit, and just walks past him on his way to the door.
“Oh c’mon, Stevie! We were just kidding!” Tommy says, changing his tune completely and trying to sound nice. Then doing another 180 when Steve just keeps getting ready to leave, “Why are you so fucking sensitive. Are you seriously leaving right now?!”
Steve doesn't stop, doesn’t even look at him and Tommy follows him to the door, “Good! Fine! Leave! Run back to your Robin. You’ll be back!” he tells him, and Steve hates that he’s said it before and had been right. But when he’s closing the door as Steve is walking towards his car Tommy yells one more thing that completely breaks him, “You are too much work, Steve! You are not worth this much trouble!”
Steve slams the door of his car and drives away but ends up pulling over a few blocks later because he can’t see through the tears.
He whales and heaves, shaking while he rubs his eyes over and over again. All he can hear in his head is ‘you are not worth it. you are not worth it. you are not worth it. you are not worth it.’
Fuck Tommy.
He takes a deep breath trying to calm himself and rests his head against the headrest, rolling it from right to left and massaging his scalp but when he looks to the left, something in his passenger seat makes him gasp. As if it were fate or something… Toothless, Tarja’s plushie is sitting right beside him.
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fatesundress · 1 year
Text
⭑ observations ii. tom riddle x reader
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part i here.
summary. two weeks after your last encounter with tom shatters all of your previous observations, tensions are high, and eventually, something's gotta give. (it's tom. he’s giving head)
tags. smut (so. so much. minors BE GONE TO WHENCE YOU CAME!), fem anatomy + reader is referred to as a woman by someone, fingering, cunnilingus, piv, again implied tall!tom or short!reader (take it however you prefer), jealous tom does not understand friendship but then again neither does reader apparently, a little wine is had, the room of requirement is used shamelessly as a plot device, did i mention smut, i’ve lost my mind etc etc.
note. this is a part two, so go ahead and read the first part and come back if you'd like :) obligatory preface: it's safe to assume any smut i write within hogwarts is a university au — these people are all 18+ tyvm. also woahh was not expecting the love on my last post so thank you! i'm still trying to figure this whole acc out so support, questions, (requests? never done those before) anything is appreciated ♡
word count. 6.3k
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The next two weeks are agony. You don’t, in fact, stop meeting with Godefrey to study, because you do, in fact, still need a good mark in Ancient Runes and for all his faults he can reach the tallest shelves and he’s a faster writer than you. Also, Tom Riddle is fantastic with his hands but this does not make him God.
You find pureblood politics a bit archaic. You find muggle courting a bit stifling. This leaves very little space for what took place between you and Tom in the middle of a corridor two weeks ago (you can’t stop wincing at how insane that sounds) and very little patience for his utterly original and not-at-all entitled request that you halt your studies with Godefrey. Godefrey doesn’t stick his hands up your skirts while the two of you are studying, doesn’t silence your gasps with a shush and a finger to your mouth, doesn’t — wouldn’t (you’re so imaginative when you want to be) — tell you to keep reading as his thumb draws circles between your legs, tell you to repeat the words that get caught in your throat, tell you how much he likes it when your eyes go dumb and glassy and all you can say is his name. So, really, Tom should have nothing to worry about.
“I swear,” Selwyn says, picking at a plate you don’t think she’s actually eaten anything off with how distracted she is, “he’s looked over here at least three times.”
You don’t dare glance at who you know she’s talking about. “You’re obsessed.”
Pot. Kettle. Whatever.
“Are you sure you didn’t do something to upset him in Potions? Didn’t botch something that might mar his perfect record?”
You flick her forehead and she scowls. “I’m not an idiot, Selwyn. I handle myself just as well in Potions as he does — he wouldn’t —” Wouldn’t have complimented your rapport if that weren’t true, wouldn’t have said you communicate efficiently, make a good pair, probably wouldn’t have — fingered you in the hallway? — yes, that too. Slipped your mind. So easy to forget.
You take a long exhale, and smile impassively at her. “I didn’t botch anything, trust me.”
She finally takes a bite of food. “Maybe I did something…”
And then she’s lost in thought again, eating now, at least, and you shake your head softly as you watch what are likely a million different theories flitting through her head.
“Morning,” Tom says to you when you enter Potions after breakfast, a delicate smile tugging at his lips.
You have, of course, trained for this. 
It’s your fifth — sixth? — time sharing a table with him since that night and it is somehow easier by nature and harder by anticipation (of what, you have no idea) every time. The first was terrible. Unsalvageable and without a silver lining. It had taken almost an hour that morning to charm the violent hues of red and purple spanning the column of your throat, and ultimately, the marks were so persistent you’d forgone the glamours and decided to just wear a turtleneck. You’d been fortunate it was completely inconspicuous to wear such a thing in December, but that was about all there’d been to be grateful for. You hadn’t been able to look at Tom all class and his hand had brushed yours once to take a phial from you and you’d flinched so sharply it would have shattered on the floor if he hadn’t caught it. And he’d smiled, like he’s smiling now, a soft, “Careful,” that honestly, for a short moment, made you want him dead.
Now you could speak just fine, look him in the eyes in practised intervals, and almost, impressively, make articulate conversation with him again. Make stupid comments about Slughorn and Lestrange and bear the weight of his grin knowing it was there for you.
His, he’d called you. A very funny thing.
“Morning,” you answer on a smiling sigh, sleepy but jovial all the same. 
You deserve applause for this.
“Tired?”
“Mhm — Essays for Ancient Runes are due Friday and it’s been keeping us up all night.”
His eyes flash with something you’ve yet to ascertain. Your research has been put temporarily on hold, scattered and splintered by the revelation that your first observation was, admittedly, a little bit off, and you have no means of figuring out a look like that when you can’t even begin to figure out anything else.
“Has it?” he asks, a tinge less friendly.
“Well,” you say, grinding the lacewing flies, “that’s commonplace, isn’t it? You take all sorts of advanced classes, I’m sure you understand the work it takes.”
“...Hm.”
That’s it. That’s all you get from him.
And if Selwyn’s concern over you botching your work in Potions wasn’t already, obviously dispelled, the glee on Slughorn’s face as he assesses your and Tom’s cauldron should do it.
“Brilliant! Just brilliant!” He claps a hand over Tom’s back, regarding you both with pride so thick it clouds his eyes, like he's drifted into a revery of the future (you and Tom, you expect, are his most prized graduates, making history under his name, proving his immense wisdom) before he appears to return to Earth. “Ten points between the two of you, hm? Very, very good — though, of course, no surprises there!”
He chuckles to himself as he evaluates the other students, and you catch a horrified wheeze of Godefrey’s name (bless his heart) as one of the cauldrons in the back begins to sputter and froth.
You look to Tom with some droll little comment at making it to the end of term with top marks, but his gaze is burning into Godefrey’s table in such a way you wouldn’t be surprised if it was what was causing his cauldron to boil.
Well. Perhaps not, then.
You and Godefrey hand in your essay that Friday with more relief than apprehension — you both decide it’s quite good — and you laugh loudly and breathlessly as he picks you up and thanks you a thousand times, spinning you until you’re dizzy. You refrain from making any promises to attend his Quidditch games, but he vows to let you have the snitch he catches.
And Slughorn, you come to find, was not exaggerating his elation at your skill. After trotting after you on your walk back from Ancient Runes to invite you to the last Slug Club dinner of the year, your spirits are high with the blissful satisfaction of a job well done and a night to celebrate it with.
You can breathe, finally, when it’s the last week of school before Christmas break and Selwyn’s zipping the back of a last-minute dress you purchased in Hogsmeade.
“Gorgeous,” Selwyn says with a grin. “Wish this school would have a bloody ball so I could really dress you up.”
“Buy a doll, Selwyn; you can dress them however you like.”
“You are such a —”
You burst into laugher, swatting her wand away as she pokes your side with it. 
“Just — go then, before I hex you.”
“All right, all right!” you concede, arms raised in surrender. “Don’t ruin all your hard work now.”
“Oh,” she calls on your way out the door. You turn and there’s a mischievous look in her eyes as she tucks her wand back in her pocket. “And do tell me before I leave tomorrow if Riddle stares at you all night.”
You groan as if it’s a truly abominable thing to imagine. Riddle, staring with those dark eyes of his? You, the centre of his attention? Ghastly. You daresay you’d never recover from the horror of it.
“Don’t leave before I tell you how remarkably uneventful a night it was,” you say with a sidelong glare, and leave before she can edge in the final word.
You have no idea what a Slug Club supper typically consists of, but you imagine for Christmas he’s gone a little further with his festivities. His office is glittering in hues of green and red and fleecy, snow-dappled gold. The lights overheard (some similar charm to the one in the Great Hall but a tad less complex, you think) drip and then vanish into the air like squeezed berries, and the berries — served with pastries and ice cream — taste like they must be enchanted with something.
Selwyn was right that the standard dress isn’t quite formal enough for a ball, but it’s… formal. The boys are in clean-cut dress robes and the girls are in fine gowns of different lengths. By the overwhelming number of them you recall being archetypes of Slytherin pureblood fanaticism, it makes sense how expensive they all look. You yourself brush up nicely, if not a bit more frugally, but you haven’t been to an event like this at the school yet, and that’s exciting on its own.
It’s another degree of training (is there going to be a marathon? Are you at war?), a step up from your preparations before Potions every other day, to be ready when Tom Riddle enters the room a respectable five minutes late with a gleam about him more captivating than any of the lights.
“Ah, Tom!” Slughorn exclaims, and ushers him into a seat you remark before Tom is even in it is discomfitingly near to yours. “We’re all here at last… Supper, then? Hope you aren’t too full already, I’ve got the House Elves running laps!”
You’re spared Tom’s closeness by a Ravenclaw couple sat in the chairs between you, their hands clasped under the table while they sip wine from their goblets, and you only realise the length of your observation when Tom glances at you from the spot over, and you startle yourself into reaching for your own goblet and pretending to enjoy Slughorn’s bitter wine.
You eat. You listen to cluttered, unending tales of Slughorn’s time at school and how he earned his post. You drink, and then you regret not drinking before eating because there’s only a very light, very nice buzz that warms you when you finish your cup, and the Ravenclaw couple is — oh, wait, it isn’t just them — they’re standing up to dance as a gramophone sparks to life and a low, dulcet instrumental begins to play. There are now two notably empty seats separating you from Tom.
What had you said this night would be? Blissful satisfaction? 
You couldn’t blame Selwyn for suggesting you’d blundered Potions — you didn’t feel exceptionally smart right now.
“I didn’t know you would be here tonight,” Tom says, pulling the chair beside you.
Where is the bottle of wine? No. Nevermind. You behave regrettably enough sober.
You manage a simple, “And yet.”
“...And yet.” His lips quirk before he takes a drink from his goblet. 
You lament for a second that you’ve only actually kissed those lips once. They spent a great deal longer on your neck.
“Will you be here over break?” he asks, and it isn’t an unreasonable thing to ask, you suppose.
“I think so. Why?”
“I’d like to know whether to expect you or not.”
Expect you… No, yes — revert to observation two: unusual is not an apt enough word for him.
It takes you a moment to conjure a response befitting polite dinner conversation. That is, after all, still what this is.
“I suppose you can. I’ll be busy, of course.”
Well, you didn’t say you conjured something good. It’s a big fat lie. Placating, vague, empty. And you suspect Tom knows that.
“Pity.”
Yes, he knows. He’s all quiet amusement again.
You stare off, satisfied to be left alone —
"And what is it that'll be taking so much of your time?"
“Well, I'm —” And now you have to build the lie — “I’ve told Godefrey I’ll attend to his Quidditch practise. Since the pitch isn’t in use.”
God, it’s so stupid it’s almost impressive — you don’t even know if Godefrey will be here over break, and you could have chosen any number of excuses that would pique Tom’s interest less than it’s apparently consistently piqued by the mention of your study partner. 
There’s that strange, indecipherable look again. Riddle is a perfect surname for him, you decide then, and you almost laugh at yourself for it, but that would probably not go over well should he ask what’s so funny.
“Have you, now? That’s very kind of you.”
“It’s hardly charity.”
“Hm, it’s kind of you to think so.”
You huff, tipping your goblet back to swallow the last meagre dregs of your wine.
“You look lovely.”
It’s just a little bit — just a tiny, straggling little bit of elderflower that captures your throat — and you cough into your goblet. “Thank — thank you.”
And, well, he looks lovely too. Obviously. Sickeningly so. You know little about his personal life but you’re positive he’s at least a half-blood, if not muggle-born, and it makes you wonder the influence of his renownedly plain black suit in a crowd of neat, long robes.
He manages with little effort to look better than all of them at their best.
His eyes drift over you appreciatively, quick enough not to be rude but — enough. (Enough that you daresay you might never recover from the horror of it.) You adjust under his gaze even when it’s situated on your face, far too heavy a thing for you to carry. “Does Godefrey call you lovely?”
What?
You blink at him, your mouth is probably open and you probably look stupid but he’s so… irritating. Yes, of course Godefrey calls you lovely. Godefrey tells you you’re the smartest woman he’s ever met (after his mother), and he drowns you with sherbet lemons at no cost, and he writes at the speed of light to match the quickness with which you recite your textbook, and none of it means anything. Tom is just —
“Unbelievable…”
He quirks a brow. “What was that?”
“I said you’re unbelievable, Riddle. Is it impossible for you to comprehend that I might have friends? That Godefrey is my friend?”
“Well, memory serves me right that you seemed a bit confused on the conventions of friendship last you mentioned it. Do forgive my uncertainty.”
He — that was —
“Well, that’s because we are not friends.”
“No.” He leans in. “We are not.”
You push your chair from the table with all the grace you can manage for such an abrupt thing: a tight, impersonal smile on your face as you walk away and approach Slughorn, only realising when you get there that your empty goblet is clutched in your hand like you’re trying to strangle it.
Whatever he sees on your face, he isn’t drunk enough not to frown at. “Ah, our newest gem — hardly seen you all night! Not leaving already, are we?”
You glance at the clock. It isn’t as though you’re being impolite by abandoning his party in the middle of the event. It’s quite late, the servers are stuck to the walls with little to do, and most of the room has divided into waltzing pairs.
“I’m taking my friend to the train station tomorrow, sir. Unfortunately I need to be up quite early.”
Yes, yes, it’s all so tragic. You’re depressed to go.
“Such a shame,” Slughorn frets, wobbling a tad and balancing himself on the wall. “You’ll be all right getting back? Not at all dizzy, are you?” His laugh is cleaved by a loud hiccough, and then he laughs even more. “My, well, I myself will need to be carried!”
“...I’ll be fine, sir. Thank you.”
“Oh, no trouble at all — there’s — hm… ah, Tom!”
No, no — is it bad you almost reach over and slap your palm over your professor’s mouth? Is it at all impressive that you don’t? You should look on the bright side in moments like these. You should admire your restraint.
But of course, Slughorn’s eyes don’t fall upon Tom for nothing. He's halfway across the room already, and Slughorn must have spotted him approaching to achieve this brilliant solution. “Tom can escort you back, no?”
Tom (unforgivably) is beside you now, a very mean, very pretty smile on his face.
“Not too much to ask, I should think? You know the castle best. Head Boy — sometimes I still can’t believe it!”
You look up at Tom and your jaw is clenched where you’ve since put down your goblet. There is too much tension in you to know what to do with, and he looks positively thrilled.
“It’s hardly charity, sir.” He holds out his arm.
You wonder what spell would catch him most off-guard if you were to blast him in the face right now.
Slughorn claps his hands together. “Ha! Yes, well… perfect, then! Off now, the two of you, off now. Do have a good — ” He hiccoughs again — “rest!”
You don’t even bother the diplomacy of smiling at Slughorn as your arm loops through Tom’s and you’re exiting the party. 
Neither of you say a word on the journey, and that’s very well.
If you could just get back to bed without speaking to him you may still consider it a good night. You may be able to push his strangeness and his entitlement and the annoying way his hair falls to another day, when he pesters you about Godefrey’s nonexistent Quidditch practise, which — come to think of it — you do think he told you he'd be headed home for the holidays. You really fumbled that one.
And then Tom’s thumb is brushing the bare skin of your arm and your walk stutters a bit. But he doesn’t mention it, and so neither do you.
And then he’s drawing down your elbow to your forearm so softly it almost feels like he isn’t touching you at all. He doesn’t mention it. Neither do you.
And then your arm, without really meaning for it to, is slipping from his and his hand is holding yours instead, feather-light as his fingers clasp yours and your breath is not the same as it was when you left.
He doesn’t mention it. He just keeps going.
His fingers work back up your arm and you shiver as they drag across your shoulder, gaze searing your neck as the soft digits find their way to your jaw, and you get the sense he’s remembering just how much he liked the taste of it, and you’re… you’re allowing it all again. You’re leaning in, you’re seeking him out, you want him flush against you and even that might not be satisfactory.
You are, in the end, a half-decent observer and a terrible liar.
You’re grabbing his hand with a small amount of direction and a great deal of meaning. You suppose it's because, historically, you’ve proven to have trouble with words in moments like these, and you don’t really know where you’re taking him but god, you know where you want him. Somewhere soft, this time, thick enough that you can fist your hands around it and melt. Somewhere he can hover over you, maybe hold you down a little, just until — maybe, miraculously — you might make him break a little too. Clamber over his lap. Make him yours.
“Tom,” you mouth, some question in the way your eyebrows knit.
The moment you say his name — the instant — he’s pulling you in, crushing his mouth against yours. And, ah, right, that’s what his lips feel like. You’d almost forgotten. 
This kiss is not chaste, hardly tender. It resists in that it asks you to push, to plead, to take this for yourself to prove how badly you want it, and he smiles into it when you do. And then, sated by your efforts, he lets you have him. You’re gripping the collar of his suit in your hands as his wander appreciatively over the back of your dress, pulling you into him as the kiss deepens. He’s savouring you like you’re something religious that’s been offered to him, and there’s the taste of wine on his tongue and you’re still here, aware enough that the symbolism isn’t lost on you.
“I've been thinking," he says between kisses, “about the way you felt when I touched you. I've been thinking about how long it might take before you need it again." 
You gasp at the sensation, and god, god, you've been wondering too, haven't you?
You’re pulling him impossibly closer and something hard is pressing into your hip and you clutch tighter onto his shirt as you moan into his mouth. You need it off, you think, and — has your dress been clinging to you like this all night? You need that off too. You need skin on skin. You careen him backwards without aim, your mind a muddled mess of all the many things your body is screaming it needs, like this is fucking imperative; to give it up would be catastrophic.
You suppose, based on what you’ve read, that that’s how the Room of Requirement works, but it’s still funny to think it would apply to this.
It hurts to remove yourself from him to watch in dumb awe as the door forms in the stone (to see the dark, languid shape of his eyes bearing down on you, the wet, stained pink of his lips), and Tom seems to recover from the revelation much faster than you.
His mouth is on yours once more, a hungry kiss; his free hand at your waist, guiding you through the door and shutting it carelessly behind him. 
He’s like fire against you, radiating as he presses down on you, his hand tangled in your hair and his hips flush against yours. You shiver as his mouth starts to move down (a cheap trick — he hasn’t forgotten how much you liked it the last time) from your jaw to your throat, as his lips trail down your chest and you're shivering into the warmth of him.
You’ve heard it said before, in some romantic sense, that it’s sometimes hard to tell where you end and someone else begins. 
This is not like that.
You've never been more aware of anything than the point where you and him meet.
You’re tugging at him blindly again, trusting in the nature of the Room like this isn't the first time you've been in it, and then you're stumbling down onto a bed you're quite sure wasn't there a moment ago (people say magic is a neutral force but evidently this is not the fucking case), fingers carding through Tom's hair as his body pins you into the mattress.
His mouth is molten hot as you squirm and pant beneath him, your breath coming faster than it ever has. Everything feels sharper and deeper and more intense under his touch, every sensation heightened until it's almost impossible to tell pleasure from pain, his tongue from his teeth.
How did it take you this long to do this again? To need him like this?
And his — you should really have the mind to see the mistake in all of this but perhaps that's for later — his fingers are pulling your sleeves down, propping your back to arch as he reaches under you to unzip your dress, apparently too impatient to sit you up and take it off properly so he just bunches it around your waist instead. There’s a moment where he stops to look at you, your chest exposed to him in the dim sconce-light, and then his mouth returns to circle your breast and you're biting down on a pillow to hold back the whimpering gasp that seeks to escape you. He hums around your flesh, and then he’s at your sternum, kissing a stripe to your belly button before pushing past the dress he's left ringed around your abdomen.
You shimmy under the weight of him to prop your head up — to see past the mass of silk that obscures his face from you as moves lower and lower, hands spanning your hips to keep you still.
His face hovers above your thighs, and he doesn’t move.
“Did you enjoy my fingers?" he asks. 
At that you freeze, thighs pressing together to bury the hand that's rising between them. 
Tom smiles. “Hm, you did." 
And then he spreads your legs apart, one hand pushing your underwear aside and regarding you with delicate, shameless appetite — something that might even be adoration: like this is all he ever wanted you to want.
“Do you think you'd enjoy my mouth, too?"
Words are gone. There's nothing left in you.
His head moves happily between your knees, holding them apart, pressing kisses to the base of your thighs. Your hands flail from the sheets, desperate to grip something else and you hold back a sound that feels like irritation and need at the same time. You need him closer, higher than this. He knows. You can feel his smile biting into your skin.
And then you manage a nod though you're not even sure he's looking at your face anymore (and what a picture to imagine he is) and you worry momentarily it won’t be enough for him — that he’ll ask you to be nice and say it out loud for him — but he hums with something merciful, and — his chin dips. You catch the smallest glimpse of his tongue before it’s on you, wet and slow and unrelenting and you say his name, but it’s a mewl; you choke on it. It sounds like a cry.
Pitiful, needy, undone. Just how he wants you.
You think all efforts to remain even remotely composed are thrown to the wind as soon as his tongue is lapping at you, fast and then slow, everything you want and not even remotely close. He sinks all his weight down as if he can predict the moment you'll writhe before you do — and you do. And with his grip he tells you to endure it. You only need him to say it with his hands and his mouth but he breathes back, licking his lips and he actually says it. “Be good.”
That makes your breath hitch and your cheeks swell impossibly hotter, and reality is a small glint in your peripheral where everything else is burning red. “Y-you’re—”
His mouth returns to you, tongue catching your clit in a drawn-out, agonising motion, and you gasp and lurch forward to inch through the sensation, craving more, more, more. Reason is lost on you, a throbbing familiarity forcing you to grind your teeth down on the pillow to stop yourself from telling him to — you don’t even know. Finish you. Abandon all reluctance. Just let you come as hard as you know he wants you to.
But he pauses, observant as he starts to work his fingers against you. Watching how your slick coats them like it’s the most enthralling sight he’s ever witnessed. Slowly, ever so slowly, he starts to push one inside of you, hearing your breath catch above him and the moan that comes tumbling out of your throat, pillow be damned.
You do your best to breathe through it, and you know he knows how to make you unfold like this, so the meticulous lightness of his ministrations tells you he’s trying to keep it from you now. You’re almost embarrassed about the fact that you’re dripping onto his hand regardless; his lips puffy, his gaze unnervingly, dizzyingly carving you in two.
“Just,” you rasp, clutching desperately at his wrist. “Tom, please.” 
Your begging must be music to his ears. (It’s a rare, unplanned fifth observation: that you think he’ll never get tired of hearing you say his name like that.)
He adds a finger. It’s encircling you, first, and no amount of restraint can stop the harsh gasp that leaves you, but then it’s his tongue and two fingers and he’s pushing into you how you wanted, and he makes a pleased sound against you, gripping you tighter with his free hand, still not allowing you movement and fuck, are you trying. What you're feeling now — the need, the want, everything —  is more than rational thought. Your mind goes blank, and all that matters is this, him, right here and now; nothing else exists, not even for a second. You moan, a low, throaty noise that's a little too loud, a little too intense; you can't recall if anything has ever come from you quite like it and Tom devours you at the sound.
More, you agree; it's almost an obsession in you now; more, more, please, anything and everything.
It’s the precision of his touch — not some bored, hurried transgression — that brings your hands helplessly to his hair.
“Tom,” you whine, holding him tight, and the purr of his mouth finding you again is something destructive.
As soon as you feel another swell of something deep down, your mouth is dropping open.
His tongue is sliding through you, fingers curling, and then your clit is in his mouth, and he’s watching you between your thighs as your eyes clench shut, and you’re coming.
Your voice breaks somewhere in the catastrophe of it. Your body spasms, electric down to every atom, and he pins you down through it. He doesn’t grant you the reprieve of escaping the frenzied, glorious torture of it. His mouth still lingers. His tongue moves thankful and unrelenting. 
He takes all of you, and you think this is destruction — creation — both. How terrifyingly similar they suddenly feel.
His lips are swollen and slick when he finally detaches them from you and you want to kiss him, but he’s leaning back to admire his work. You swallow, unable to blame him for it because you look down at yourself and — this is something else. You’re dripping down his chin. You're shaking. Your legs are still clenching around his torso. They’re holding him so tight you can’t imagine it doesn’t hurt.
But he just rolls off of you. Adjusts his trousers and your abdomen flutters and you think, don’t.
You don’t even realise you’re reaching for him until your hand is around his wrist and you’re still fucking sighing through the come-down, panting into the hot air.
He presses a kiss to your forehead, fingers damp on your chin as he holds you. You make a note that that’s the second time he’s done that. That you thought it was strangely intimate the first time and nothing’s changed other than how much more you like it.
And it doesn’t really feel like you can help it but crawl with gooey, trembling legs onto his lap. Doesn’t feel like you can help it when you lean in and capture his lips with yours, moan unabashedly into his mouth at the stiffness that presses against your core when you do, steal his tongue and the taste of you on it.
When he pulls away he’s looking at you like he doesn’t think you can actually do this. Like you’d just crumble the moment you tried.
A low, determined protest rises in your throat and you’re kissing him again. You’re unbuttoning his dress shirt, you’re trembling to reach for his trousers. 
When you can finally shrug his shirt off, press yourself against him, feel that skin on skin you wanted so badly, you find it somehow even more suffocating than its absence. You’re left wanting a more you aren’t able to even conceptualise, but you’re grinding involuntarily against him and his teeth are scraping your neck and he's hissing at the sensation, and — yes, there’s more.
Your breath is staggered when your hips stutter into a roll and you — fuck. You’re tugging desperately to remove his belt and he smiles against your throat as he takes your hands and guides them to him. You can feel his bulge against your thigh and you’re spreading your legs to usher him where you want, clawing at his chest without even meaning to.
Tom’s taking off his belt, and he’s pulling down his trousers just enough to bare himself to you, and maybe he’s right that you can’t manage it yourself but he stops his assistance like the intrigue of finding out is too good to resist. There's something both intimate and imperious, in a way, about the way he's looking at you now; it's a kind of focus and intensity and withheld hunger just for you; and you're more than happy to give yourself over to it, to let his hands and his eyes and his mouth claim you for his own. To claim him for yours, at last.
You do. You struggle for it. He’s very patient. 
But then it’s there — more — as you finally sink down on him and bite his shoulder and he shudders a low, pained exhale, his hands clutching your waist.
There’s a silent, suspended moment where neither of you move. The room feels entirely still. 
Your lips quiver over his pulse, and your stomach flips at the intensity of it, the undeniable rate of his desire beneath you. You smile against him now, like he always does to you, conscious enough to mumble into his neck, “Mine.”
Tom stutters inside you, fingers gripping you impossible tighter as you dare to think he even gasps. You dare to think he likes it.
And then one of his hands grabs your jaw and his kiss is searing. He thrusts upward and you cry into his mouth, searching to match his pace in a way that you appreciate, for once, he seems unlearned in. 
It’s all a bit messy, a bit new, palms in fists, in skin, in hair, digging for every part they haven’t already taken from. The sound in the back of Tom’s throat is divine, the feeling of him inside you as he slips his hand back between your legs — like he needs everything, like he knows you do too — it’s ineffable. It coils somewhere deep, touches something you didn’t know existed. Your hips are rotating, thighs still soft and slack from coming apart on his tongue, but you’re determined. It feels like finding even ground. It feels like something you deserve: to make him feel how you did.
Your head rolls back, eyes pinching shut in bliss, but Tom is there at your jaw again, forcing your blurry gaze back to him.
His hips are inching even further, the intensity of his pace as he adjusts to you making you dizzy. You think, realistically, there’s sound coming out of you, but you aren’t entirely sure when it’s so close to him, when your mouth is between his fingers and your ears are ringing and he’s looking at you like you’re made for him. 
“Mine.” And it isn’t a dismissal of your own claim but a confirmation that one will not be without the other. His voice is raw and breathy and something about the way he says it makes you contract inadvertently around him, hands swatting his chest like they don’t know what else to do. There’s just too much.
You recognize you’re trying to say something. Some plea, a moan, his name (is there anything else left?), but you’re just babbling into his mouth and he holds you there. He doesn’t kiss you. It’s your failing words against his lips. He swallows whatever syllables try to shape them.
It’s there again when you need it most; the heavy, swirling feeling inside you as he snaps his hips, his fingers returning to your waist with punishing firmness. His breathing accelerates, low in his throat, and you push harder against him. Your vision is gone again, head held in his hands to keep from rolling back so that, you suspect, he can watch defeat split you down the middle again — not over your shoulder, not with his head between your legs — with his eyes on yours, with every broken moan you let out so close to his face he can feel the breath of each one.
You’re grappling desperately at skin that doesn’t feel like enough, even though he’s rocking inside you, and you see the insanity of it, you see that it isn’t logical. Too much and not enough at once — you’re smart enough to know that doesn’t work, but it just is.
“Please,” you manage in a voice you don’t recognize. “Please, Tom, pleasepleaseplease —”
Had you said before it was foolish to call him forgiving? You take it back. He’s very eager to oblige you.
He finds some place inside of you and you don’t know quite what it is that he changes but it's new, uncharted, and you break there. You dissolve. You’re liquid in his hands as you sob, stuttering around him, trembling like you didn’t know was possible, and you swear — you swear you’re going to take him there with you. It isn’t that you could stop yourself if you tried but your body is gripping around him, fingers carving halved spheres into his skin, and you’re pushing down on him through the ecstasy — you’re forcing your eyes open so he can see you break, watch them flutter back all soft and pretty.
And you're sated by your ruin when it ruins him too.
The sound he makes is ragged. Undone. He can only bury it halfway with a kiss you think is actually more of a bite, twitching inside you as he fucks you through it.
You’re both lost in each other for a moment that feels detached from time, feeling his hips stutter to a halt, feeling your body soften. And he’s pulling out of you like it hurts, mouth falling open as he does. You wince at the loss, the sweet soreness between your legs, and you’re held only by the weight of him. You think — and you actually sway like the mere idea is too strong — that if it weren’t for his hands, you’d fall flat off the bed.
But he sort of lifts you off him, lays you down and watches you for a long time as if to decide something important before he's laying down beside you. You watch him too. His fingers brush your hair out of your face, and when there’s not a single curl left clinging to the sweat on your skin, he continues anyway. You let him trace your lips, your jaw, your nose, and somehow, a bit terrifyingly, your final observation: nothing about it feels unusual at all.
You did say he was yours.
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Imagine annoying the shit outta the red hair pirates
I can't believe I'm doing a stupider one piece version of the Who's on first bit
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Shanks: okay, are you listening?
You: *looks him dead in the eye, hearing him just fine*, huh?
Shanks: *lets out a tired sigh* very well there are five marine outposts on this island, they're in the shape of the world government's symbol. I'm talking the center building, which is the unit's headquarters, where most of the ranked marines reside. Benn will take the southern outpost. Lucky Roux will take the western outpost and then Yassop will take the eastern one, and you will take the northern base with most of the crew.
You: Okay
Yassop: *not convinced you were listening* who's taking the eastern outpost?
You: Roux's taking the western outpost.
Yassop: WHO not Roux!
You: here? *Points at the map*
Shanks: Yes, up here
You: But you said Yassop over here at the Eastern outpost?
Shanks: *presses his forehead against the table and gently bangs his head on it.* Yes, I did. Fine, then what about here then? *points at the northern outpost.
You: Benn's at the southern outpost.
Shanks: *groans* can you even hear me?
You: *laughs* yes, you take the central base, Roux takes the western out post, Yassop takes the eastern, Benn attacks the southern one, and I attack the northern with the crew.
Yassop: You actually were listening
You: I do that quite a lot, you people are always surprised.
Shanks: because you act and look like you're not listening.
You: I know, I do it mostly for my own amusement.
Yassop: *puts you in headlock and gives you a noogie* You're lucky you're cute.
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At port
Benn: *finalizing the list of supplies needed, and who is getting them*
You: *singing an onomatopoeia of the instrumentals of topic by the champs* wa wewaaaAaAaAa wah wa wewaaaAaAaAa wah *hip checks Benn into the water* tequila wa wewaaaAaAaAa wah *dances in place*
Benn: God damn it (y/n)! *Climbs back on the dock* You're gonna be paired with me and the boss.
You: Noo!
Benn: Yes! And in the meantime you get to assist me our supplies. *hooks his hands under your armpits and picks you up and deposits you on a chair next to him.*
You: *whines*
Benn: do you know why I do this, managing the cargo? So we don't starve.
You: And because your needs were never met when you were a child, and so now you go out of your way to take care of the needs of others while actively neglecting yourself?
Benn: ... Okay look, besides all of that, it needs to get done.
You: What ever lets you sleep at night, sweetheart.
Benn: I loathe you sometimes.
You: *winks and smooches at him*
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The Crew: *just finished doing maintenance after a storm damaged the ship and are packing up their supplies*
You: *Hiding in a cabinet and makes the water drop noise with your mouth*
The Crew: *freezes*
Shanks: *dangerously close to yelling*
Yassop: God damn it, I don't have the energy to look around for some stray leak tonight.
Hongo: suck it up, we gotta find it before it leads to flooding.
You: *makes the noise twice again*
Lucky Roux: Especially considering the pantry is below this.
You: *makes the noise again, and tries not to laugh*
Benn: It sounds like it's coming from in here *opens the cabinet you're hiding in* .... (y/n) why are you up here? Y'know what, I don't wanna know, do you see the leak?
You: No *makes the noise while looking him dead in the eyes*
Benn: You little! *grabs you by your ankle, pulls you out, and lifts you by off the ground.*
You: *can't stop laughing*
Benn: I found the leak.
Shanks: what? No.
Benn: *shakes you* make the noise brat, or I'll spank you.
You: Promise?
Benn: Do it again.
You: *tries several times, but fails because you can't stop smiling and has to compose yourself before you can make the noise again.*
Yassop, and Lucky Roux: Can we throw them in the brig for the night.
Shanks: You may not, but we can make them do an idiot check to see if we missed any leaks while the rest of us go to bed.
You: That's fair.
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List of Up-and-coming works
Support me on Kofi and Patreon
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pixelchills · 4 months
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So, I think it's time to talk about Sun in Help Wanted 2 and how I think a lot of people have (in my opinion) misunderstood the sass and now think Sun is some mean bully who needs a cigarette and a vacation.
Posting my thoughts under here for spoiler warnings:
I think first and foremost we need to understand that Sun has always, ALWAYS, been a sucker for rules. He had one rule for Gregory in Security Breach, which he broke and Sun banned him from the Daycare.
In the Arts & Crafts game in HW2 Sun is overly giddy and excited, a little bit anxious but clearly tries to hide it. He wants you to just follow the rules and do arts and crafts with him!
If you follow the rules, you get no mean or sassy comments and instead he gives you praises and even does the cute yippee jumps at the end.
But if you misbehave (throw things at him, eat the supplies) he gets irritated, but none of the voicelines really hint towards him being mean or sassy to you, but more of his worry about his own and your safety.
You throwing things at him: Sun sees you're making a mess, he doesn't like the mess. If you hit him with the items he often laughs at it sarcastically and tells you to stop. Firmly. Sometimes he lets out comments under his breath ("I should turn off the lights myself").
You eating the art supplies: well, we all collectively know it is not healthy. Sun obviously doesn't want you to do that either. I think at this moment he just knows you're a damn idiot since you're an adult and are eating the googly eyes. I don't blame him for getting so angry; Sun realises he is just babysitting an adult which is not something he is supposed to do.
Sun doesn't like the arts you make if you haven't followed the rules. This is where he gets sassy and mean. His rules were very simple! If anything, this just proves the fact Sun is a little goody-shoes who values rules and doesn't like those who don't follow them.
During the course of the arts and crafts, Sun is impatient. He rushes you and keeps bugging about the time. "You're taking foreverrrrrr" is my favourite line just simply how frustrated he sounds. We always knew Sun was speedy and has no patience to just sit and wait. He needs to have his hands busy because that's most likely his way to deal with his anxiety - sitting still doing nothing will make his anxiety worse, or depression, or whatever he is trying to hide.
Because that's how he is in the RUIN version of the level. Just sitting in his pillowfort, sad and depressed. Just wanting to be left alone. Too long for doing nothing, his sad thoughts and the neglect has caught upon him. He is so so sad, but let's you work on the crafts as long as you just get out and leave him to continue sulking.
He doesn't trust you. Sun says: "It's safer this way". But it might not mean that it's safer for you, but safer for him. He doesn't want to give himself the false hope of someone coming to his rescue, or he has the fear that you're a human who will hurt him again. Either of those options are just really, really sad and I think everything he went through between these two games is a worth of an analysis, but we'll leave that for another day.
In short: Sun is still the same Sun we all fell in love with, he hasn't turned into a sassy bully just because he doesn't like your art. But we need to understand he is just THAT strict for the rules, because breaking them will either get him, or you, in trouble.
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 5 months
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katsuki bakugou hates a lot of things
he hates people who walk slow, he hates people who chew loudly or people who talk loud in places they know damn well they shouldn’t.
he hates when people walk on the back of his shoe and he hates idiots like kaminari who talk during movies.
but most of all, katsuki bakugou hates seeing you cry.
it sparks something in him, something red, hot and so angry when he finds you in your dorm. tears running down your cheeks that show no sign of stopping. he hates it even more when you make eye contact and you curl into yourself even more from where you’re sitting on the floor.
katsuki immediately decides this is the thing he hates the most.
he’s on you in seconds, kneeling in front of you, searching around to get a peek of your face hidden in your knees. he places his hands on top of yours where they’re wrapped around your legs and his chest tightens when you flinch a little.
“ who was it ? who did this to you ?” he can’t recognize his own voice, his words come out so fast he barely registers what he’s saying.
you try to speak but nothing but more broken sobs and shaky breaths come out as you desperately try to catch your breath and katsuki realizes that you talking isn’t a priority right now.
his eyebrows are furrowed and he almost looks angry but he’s so, so worried. if anything, he’s angry at himself for being so helpless, for not being able to help you in a time where you clearly need it.
he grabs your shoulder softly and the weight his chest lightens slightly when you lean a little closer to him, before letting him pull you tightly into his arms
“breathe for me.” he utters softly, voice gruff and gravelly. he never actually talks this softly unless he’s around you, the difference is so stark it surprises him a little bit but he’s got more important things to think about. praise spills from him occasionally, muttering a “you got it. i got you” into your ear before pressing a kiss to your temple.
katsuki’s never really had to comfort anyone, he’s never felt the need to, but you’re not just anyone. your different, you’re his. his love his everything and he’ll be damned if he didn’t try his hardest for you.
you’ve calmed down a little bit, he noticed. you’re breathings calmed down a little and your sobs have been reduced to snivels. the tightness in his lungs is still there, but it’s less now.
“what’s goin’ on with you, hm ?” you’re grip tightens on his arm and you shove your head deeper into his chest. he moves his head away from your shoulder so he can place two small kisses on the top of your head
“talk to me, baby. needa know what’s up with you.” he pleads into the crown of your head. you sigh before speaking up.
“ i don’t know what’s up with me i just- it’s nothing bad i’m—” you’re desperately searching for the right words to use so what you’re about to say makes sense. “i just don’t—feel like myself today. i don’t know why, i just feel really bad today.” you let out a humorless chuckle and your voice dies out when you finish “m’sorry if i worried you” you sniffle.
he shushes you, his grip on you tightens when he hears you whimper “don’t..don’t fuckin’ apologize to me, got no reason to.” he spits. he sounds angry, and he is, why should you ever feel the need to apologize for feeling some type of way around him ?
“s’okay for you to feel that way..i do too, sometimes, you know ?” he knows you do. he knows you do because there are times where he comes to your room in tears, shaking and panicked. completely and utterly lost from the nightmares that had plagued him minutes before but knowing he had to come see you. you were there for him every time, gently soothing him and assuring him that he’d be okay. he owed it to you to do the same for you.
“s’okay to feel like shit sometimes, happens to the best of us.” he whispers “ but you can always come to me when you do, can deal with it together. an’ don’t go thinkin’ yer ‘bothering’ me either.” he says, parroting what you had just told him. “we’re together for a reason, dummy.” he’s soft spoken and his voice is so mellow despite his harsh little nickname for you, you could’ve missed it if he wasn’t sitting so close to you, it makes you a little dizzy and a little weaker in you’re already mushy knees.
he grabs your shoulders gently to get your eyes on him. they’re still a little glossy but they’re a little less dull when he looks at you “ we’re in this together, always have been, always will be, got it ? “ he asserts, waiting for your response. and then you smile at him, it’s faint but it’s there and katsuki feels like he can breathe again. he smiles back softly at you when you respond with a soft “okay.”
you suddenly grab onto him and pull him into you tightly, locking him in a tight embrace and squeezing like you’re pressing a lemon. it throws him off for a second before he’s squeezing you just as hard, pressing your body against his.
“thank you, katsuki. you’re the best” you hum. he presses a long lingering kiss to your temple as response, before squeezing around your waist “ course i am.” he gloats. the smirk on his lips grows when you snort in response “what’re you laughing about, hah? don’t think so? don’t think i’m the best ?” he jests, using this as an opportunity to tickle you mercilessly. you kick and squirm but it’s no use, katsuki doesn’t stop until you’re a heaving , giggling mess. tears in your eyes as you plead and beg for him to stop but he doesn’t let up even when you’re laying on the ground with him on top of you.
“ i ain’t hearing what i wanna hear, you know what i want from you, baby.” he chuckles at the way you desperately gasp for breath, choking on your own spit in the process.
“y-you’re the ! the best, ‘suki ! the b-bestest of the best !” you gasp out, pushing blindly at his face to get him away from you and he finally let’s you go. “felt nice enough to let you off with a warning, won’t end well for ya if you try me again.” is what he says, playfully warning you and waving his finger around in your face. you’re completely out of breath, there are tears in your eyes again but they’re happy tears this time and you still can’t stop smiling and giggling as you try to bite at his finger and katsuki is more than happy with this.
because katsuki’s favorite thing is your smile.
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highvern · 6 months
Text
Lucky Me
Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem reader
Genre: idiots in love, fluff, established relationship
Warnings: sickening sweet tooth rotting fluff, kissing, tears, brief mention of illness, in this lore Seungchoel is a married man and off the proverbial streets
Length: ~1.4k
Note: Drunk Goggles couple's first L-word! post Discovery by like a few weeks lmao. I'm actually crying in the club bc Mingyu is my ENXJ kindred spirit so i wrote this in the most self serving way possible lol
read more here
“Can’t believe you’re not picking up your phone right now. Really selfish of you. What if I was dying in the street and you didn’t know because you ignored my call? What then, huh? Your poor boyfriend just wants to talk to you but I guess you hate me now.”
You chuckle at the sound of your Mingyu’s scolding. Always one for dramatics, that one. Toweling off your hair, you move to tidy the discarded packaging from the decorations you spent hanging all afternoon. Mingyu’s voicemail plays through the speaker of your phone on the counter as you work to clean up before people start arriving.
“Anyways! I picked up the cake for the party tonight, and some more snacks and beer just in case. The lady at the bakery said the cake took her all morning because the picture I sent of Jihyo kept making her laugh. Hate to say it but I think you have some competition. I can already see us getting married and being her sugar baby.”
Everytime an old lady even compliments Mingyu he tells you to watch your back because they want to steal him from you. Your eyes roll at his comments but they humor you nonetheless.
“She’s nowhere near as pretty as you though, so she's gonna need to step up her game. Alright, I’m gonna stop at my place to shower and grab some clothes and then I’ll head your way. Text me if I need to get anything else on my way, okay? Love you, bye!”
You freeze, plastic bags and towel dropping to the floor with a wet thud. 
“Shit.” 
You hear his faint curse through the speaker as the voicemail ends. 
Heart squeezing as you replay his words over and over, you plop down on your butt to the hard wooden floor. Love you, bye! Love you, love you, love…
He loves me.
Oh boy.
The new information is magical, twisting your insides in knots as you think of all the times you’ve wanted to say those very words you’ve buried in your chest over and over. The times he makes you laugh so hard you think you might pee your pants, his own giggles pulling him to the ground; when he cleaned out space in his dresser for your stuff, buying duplicates of your toiletries so you could come over whenever you wanted and feel at home; when your car broke down on the side of the road and he came to pick you up, racing across town in the dark of night to get you; when Wonwoo told you he’d never seen Mingyu so happy since you’d started dating; the time he cried when Seungcheol recited his vows to his now wife; how he always pulls a extra mug out of the cabinet when he makes his morning coffee, leaving it next to the machine with a sweet note for when you get up.
I love him.
Oh boy, indeed.
Standing, you grab your phone from the counter. Mingyu called almost an hour ago meaning he will be at your apartment any second. You use the few minutes you have left to calm your breathing, praying your hands stop shaking and the blush you feel dissipates as you open the freezer and pludge your face into the cold air.
A clunky knock at the door startles you. Sprinting to unlock it, you nearly fly face first into the door knob in your haste. 
On the other side is your boyfriend, thick waves of stress palpable as they roll off his body. Mingyu’s hands are full with groceries so you snag the cake, planting a quick kiss on his chin in greeting.
“Hi,” he mumbles, fear evident on his face.
“Hi!” You beam, dazzling smile thrown over your shoulder as you walk back toward the kitchen.
“Ugh, did you get my message?” 
Mingyu pauses to kick off his shoes by the door, nervousness firing through every fiber of his being. He meant what he said on the phone, but you've only been dating for a few months and he doesn’t want to mess anything up by being over eager. Correction: he can’t mess this up; he’s certain the heartbreak would kill him.
Mingyu prides himself on all the times he’s reigned in those three little words from slipping past his lips. Whenever he’s drunk and sees you smile, whenever he’s sober and sees you smile; when you cried about your shitty boss; when he cried at Seungcheol’s wedding, imagination running rampent; every morning when he wakes up next to you and every night before falling asleep in the same place; when you took care of him when he had the flu a few weeks ago; the first time he saw the new toothbrush you bought him to keep at your place, sitting in the cup on bathroom sink right next to yours. The list is endless. 
He can’t help that he’s built to love so deeply; his friends, his family, all of the important people in his life have their own space carved in his heart including you. Even before you started dating he cared for you. Your name has been branded in his chest since day one and inferno has only grown as his fondness expands with each moment.
“Yeah, I did. Sorry I missed your call, I was in the shower.”
“It's okay! I just know you like to be kept updated.”
After placing Jihyo’s birthday cake safely in the fridge, you turn to face your boyfriend. He looks like he might actually throw up, hands shaking as he unpacks the bags he’s brought in and eyes refusing to look in your direction. You can tell Mingyu is watching you out of his peripheral, waiting for you to comment on his confession with bated breath.
You stride around the kitchen island to stand next to him, helping sort the different treats he bought in silence. The juxtaposition between you two is almost laughable. You’re all shy smiles and flushed cheeks, unable to control the wild thump of your heart; while Mingyu looks like he might sprint out the door and into traffic at the drop of a hat.
Once all the bags are discarded, food lining the counter to be prepped, you turn to rest your back against the edge of the cool marble, your soft gaze focuses on his face. Arms crossing in front of you, you watch as he pretends to be busy to avoid meeting your eyes.
“I love you too.” You confess shyly, sides of your mouth quirking upwards.
Mingyu’s head shoots up so fast you’re afraid he might give himself whiplash. All you can do is smile demurely, embarrassed by the way he stares at you with wide eyes and an open mouth.
“Really?”
Biting your lip to control the grin attempting to split your face in half, you nod gently.
Next thing you know you’re consumed in a tight embrace, squashed into his chest as he squeezes you so hard you might explode. The smell of his cologne and laundry detergent waft of his shirt, soothing your own nerves as you relax in his hold. You can hear his heart racing in his chest, thundering below your ear; your own echoing in response.
“Say it again.” Mingyu sighs into your hair.
You can’t help but laugh.
“I love you.”
“Oh my god.” He gasps.
“Say it back.” you pout, chin digging into his pec as you peer up at him.
For a second, all Mingyu can do is stare at you, face soft with emotion, eyes cataloging your features. In his wildest dreams, he never thought he’d be fortunate enough to feel this way about another person. How lucky is he that the person he loves loves him too?
“I love you. I love you. I love you.” He says, hands moving to cup your face as he emphasizes a different word with each repetition, tip of his nose rubbing against the side of your own.
“Baby, are you crying?”
“I can’t help it! I love you! And you love me!” He wails, pushing his face into your cheek. “I think I’m gonna faint.”
“Aww, Gyu!” You coo, turning your head to kiss away his tears as they fall.
Mingyu catches your lips with his, needing to show you how much he cares for you rather than just tell you. 
But one more time doesn’t hurt.
“I love you.”
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