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#if they’re actually intrigued :/ I just give up now

saetoru · 7 months

Note

Tee…

I’m now on my hands and knees BEGGING for bully Gojo who is (secretly) DISGUSTINGLY IN LOVE over the reader PLEASE ANY CRUMBS I WILL TAKE

(you don’t actually have to write this it was just a nice thought)

idkkkkk if it’s rly bully gojo—but he’s definitely a real cunt for sure.

i just think about an asshole! gojo a lot like he’s ur lab partners or something and he does that stereotypical jerk move where he’s like “seriously ?? her ??” when he’s first paired with you. and he’s just naturally an douche, yk ?? wears sunglasses indoors and makes jokes at the professors expense under his breath that gets him snickers and snorts from his frat guys in his class. has to be asked more than once to “please keep it down in the middle of class” by wtv prof he’s in class with.

and he ofc makes u do all the work bc he can’t be bothered—and on the rare occasion that he is bothered, he just does a poor job that’s the bare minimum and sloppy enough that ur like wtv i’ll just do it myself. and then ofc sometimes u don’t have a choice but to meet up to finish something after class every now and then—he wouldn’t care to, but he actually needs to know the stuff for the final report he has to write individually, so he begrudgingly meets up with you, and sometimes you notice his friends give you an amused look when he walks up with them. they snicker before they leave as he sits with you. sometimes they make a snide comment here and there like “have fun with ur super hot date” that makes him roll his eyes—he doesn’t do much to hide the look of distaste on his face.

but then—and he doesn’t even know when it happens—you start to slowly grow on him. because ur actually pretty snarky urself, sometimes making a dry comment here and there about the professor and his stupid bald headed self. sometimes a girl in the distance laughs too hard a group of guys that u roll ur eyes and mumble how “if i had a voice like that i’d never laugh in public” and it makes him snort a bit without meaning to. sometimes you stare daggers at the person who has their music so loud thru their headphones they can’t help but notice u and turn it down in embarrassment. ur actually not as much of a pushover as he thought—you just genuinely think he’s too incapable to help u out that you’ve just shrugged him off and started doing his part. it’s an easy weekly lab class anyway, you don’t need him—and then he realizes that u rly just don’t care for him. his little snickers at u with his friends and their snide comments roll off ur back bc well…he’s him—an asshole little frat boy and u didn’t expect anything better from him. so it makes him a little intrigued—maybe a little wounded in his pride, deep down, because no one has ever been indifferent to him before. they’re either madly in love, or they hate his guts, or they follow his lead. either works—he still gets the attention he craves.

but u just don’t rly care. and ur actually pretty cool, and kinda sorta funny in a way no one else is. he likes it…and fuck, now he’s starting to like you. he can tell bc when his friends ask how his little date with you went, he starts getting a bit huffy ab it bc they don’t need to talk about you. they don’t even know you…but also….its not a date. and that’s the worst part. sometimes it feels like a date. almost—sometimes you both decide to take a break in between and go get a coffee or a light snack. sometimes he’s even paid (to which you look mildly shocked before politely thanking him) and you both walk back to the library while u make light banter and it’s…well, fun. and nice. and your laugh is pretty. and your smile is kinda cute and he (though he hates to admit it) rly likes it when u laugh because of him.

and then things start to get messy—really, he didn’t mean for it to start this way. he really was meaning to ask you in a genuine manner to see u again once the semester was finished. because he’s actually started pulling his weight—he wants u to see him for someone who’s smart. satoru is actually rly rly smart and no one knows it because he doesn’t rly show it but he is. he wants u to see that side of him—somehow there’s some sick validation he rly needs from you knowing he’s not a dense frat guy who drinks and fucks until 3 am every night. so he starts doing his parts and actually communicates with u about sections. so starts ur texting routine—sometimes a little longer than u rly need to for just doing a lab together. sometimes it’s “did u hear ab that girl in our class getting dumped in front of the kfc ??” and sometimes it’s “god our prof rly needs to get some pussy” and other times it’s “look what the guy who sits behind us just posted on his story” and it leads to a few long convos that admittedly…are rly fun. ur so fun. he likes it. he rly does like u and he thinks maybe….maybe he’s grown on u too and you know what ?? satoru’s always a jerk but ur nice and who’s to say he can’t be nice too ?? just for one person. for u, he can be a nice guy—u carried lab all on ur own long enough that u deserve it anyway.

until he gets swayed in that way only a coward can. in that way you do when ur used to being “the man” around ur friends and ur too pressured to keep up that energy for appearances sake bc u don’t wanna be the laughing stock who softened up for “some nerdy chick who’s a nobody.” so he laughs when they laugh at the fact that ur probably “still a virgin who’s never touched a guy before” and then they’re patting gojo on the back and shoving at his shoulder as they laugh harder and suggest that “y’know what would be so funny man ?? if u took her virginity. you could probably do it.”

the thought is sickening because…satoru wouldn’t want to fuck you like that. god, you have him caring about when and how he fucks you—in fact, just thinking about you lewdly makes him feel guilty. disrespectful, even. you’re more than a fleshlight for his dick. since when did he become so respectful ?? but he doesn’t know how to say no, especially when everyone starts agreeing one after the other—and oh no, now they’re betting on how quickly he can do it….and oh, now it’s not just fucking. now it’s “how long until you think she’s head over heels for you? man, that would be a sight, huh ??”

and….well, satoru decides it couldn’t hurt, right ?? he does want to be romantically involved so that would include you being head over heels. hopefully. fingers crossed. and he doesn’t rly want to seem lame in front of the guys either, so he gets to keep both sides of the coin, so is it really that bad ?? maybe not the right idea but certainly the right execution. he’ll treat you well—that much he’s confident of. so he forces out a laugh and says “gimme a month or two, you’ll see.”

and a month or two they give him. and a month or two it takes—but not for you to be head over heels. it’s him who’s utterly and completely obsessed and fallen head first and whatever else they say to describe love because wow. this must be what it is. this must be that stupid fairytale shit they always talk about because fuck, no one has ever looked at him like that. like he’s some miracle to this earth and some wonder only you know of—like you hope it stays that way and that he’s yours and yours alone and no one else comes in to take him away. satoru really likes being yours, it kinda feels better than you being his. being yours means you hold him like that at night and wake him up to a kiss between his brows and sometimes, when he gets those migraines he’s prone to getting, you always seem to know. always seem to understand when to close the blinds and keep quiet and wrap him up in the covers as you rub your thumbs over his temples soothingly.

he almost forgets about that silly little bet he made two months ago when he’s around you. actually, he forgets everything when he’s around you. he’s only ever thinking about you, you, you. when he comes back to his frat house, on the other hand, they’re all gathered around waiting for the newest details. how you must’ve been so pathetically star struck by him. how you must be embarrassingly bad at kissing. how you must stutter over every other word around him. how you must be making a complete and utter fool of urself trying to impress him and be someone you’re not bc the real you would never pique his interest.

they’re wrong ofc. if anyone’s star struck, it’s satoru bc how the hell are u so…cool ?? and so funny and witty and carefree ?? and you’re good at kissing—have him chasing your lips with a whine every time. sometimes you even chuckle at him when he does and make him blush a bit. he’s the one who stutters over his words when he sees you in your little date night outfits. sometimes he watches you drink from your straw and his brain short circuits a little until you snap at him and ask him in confusion if he’s alright. but the real kicker ?? it’s that if anyone’s pretending, it’s satoru. you’re always just you—unapologetically so, that it’s endearing and beautiful and so unearthly he wonders how he got so lucky. but him ?? he’s always acting like some guy he’s not. some chivalrous guy who opens doors and pushes out seats and kisses the back of hands and waits at least a few dates before even considering fucking. some nice, sweet, genuine guy who’s deserving.

he’s not that—never was. if you knew the real him, you’d leave in a heartbeat. it’s a scary thought. a raw feeling he doesn’t like. makes him feel all self conscious and insecure and all that weird shit he never thought he’d feel.

he tries. so hard, he tries to make them forget about that silly little bet and just slowly drop it and maybe even forget ur dating so he can just stay living this peaceful little fantasy with you—but that’s stupid. that’s naive. it’s been 4 months and enough is enough—the guys need to see the look on ur face when u realize what a fool ur being and satoru is “being a lazy ass who’s too comfortable not having for work for pussy these days.” so then there’s a video going around. it’s everyone gathered around on the couch drunk and talking about you. and satoru. you both, in fact. how it’s been two months and u seem desperate for his attention with the shrill little voice you use to call him toru, baby! it’s so, so fucking embarrassing, they say. how you think he likes it. (he does. god he does so much, it hurts. he loves it, actually, when you call him that. makes him feel special in a way he never has.) but then, the worst, most disgustingly nauseous part of the whole thing is when satoru laughs along and plays into their awful words. just lets them talk about you like you’re some piece of meat. something for him to chew up and spit out after he has a taste or you. not even worth savoring and enjoying. he laughs along and agrees—you’re nothing special and he can’t wait until he’s free of you.

that part hurts. that part sucks the most—when he acts like he didn’t tremble under your touch every time you kissed him. like he didn’t beg you to stay just five more minutes! before walking out the door to go home. he acts one way in front of you and one way in front of them and what’s worse ?? you don’t know which one is real. couldn’t tell even if your life was on the line to decide. because there’s no way he’s that good at pretending to be desperately in love, no fucking way. but there’s also no way he can be in love if he’s talking about you like that. that’s not what love is—that’s not what love feels like. that’s not what it means to someone.

you don’t know which satoru is the real one, but you know that neither is worth your time. not if he can’t stick to it.

it’s terrible thing—the way you break up. it’s messy and teary and he’s begging, he’s actually begging. he never thought he’d do that. but he doesn’t even hesitate to plead for you to hear him out. baby, please let me explain. wait, please don’t walk away—please just listen! i can explain.

he can’t explain, though when you as him to. stands there with a bitten bottom lip and teary eyes that are pleading you to just stay with him. to overlook this and just … ignore it like it’s nothing. like what he did and said was just nothing and you can shrug it off like you’re nothing too. like your feelings are nothing and so is your worth and that’s why you should just ignore the way he absolutely destroyed your pride and reputation and dignity and worse….every ounce of your love.

such deep, raw, pure love—it’s almost enough to heal every dry crack and crevice of this earth and bring it back to life.

you look at him with teary eyes and something so broken, it makes him feel like dirt beneath your feet.

“it’s embarrassing, satoru,” you hiss that night through tears, “you’re in your twenties getting a degree and you’re still just a high school bully. life’s really gonna kick you in the ass some day.”

life’s already kicking him in the ass as soon as you walk out. the air is colder. the world is dimmer. food doesn’t taste as good and fuck—there is just so much loneliness when you have no one to be yourself with. when there’s no you.

but he supposes you’re right though—he is just a bully. it’s pathetic, really. and maybe it’s for the best. maybe you don’t deserve someone who’s only ever known how to feel good because someone else doesn’t.

#bye #this is so obnoxiously long for a silly little jumble of thoughts #maybe i’ll flesh it out and make it an actual fic tho #bully! gojo tag

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tteokdoroki · 6 months

Text

☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. a flicker of a flame.

about. when satoru notices the flicker of cursed energy within your unborn child, he starts to feel the weight and nerves of becoming a father.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, expecting parents, reader is pregnant, hospitals, nerves about being parents, listen idk how gojo’s cursed technique works so here u go >:( canon verse, expecting father!gojo, fem!reader.

“i can see it…like…flickering inside of you.”

satoru carries an expression of intrigue, like a child who’s just discovered a new sensation.

you flip the page of your magazine, not bothering to spare your husband a glance while you instead choose to admire the many strollers and their offers that decorate the page. “don’t be weird, satoru.” you tap a perfectly manicured nail against the one you like most, leaning over to show the item to him.

“but it’s there… like actually there.” the sorcerer replies, keeping his voice low despite the loud ambience of the maternity ward’s waiting room. people crying, people celebrating, families already full of children gathering around to hear more exciting news. “i like that one. it’ll fit in the hallway too. do you want it in grey or in black?”your husband passes you a pen from the depths of your tote bag in his lap, letting you circle the stroller in the magazine so you know to come back to it.

this time, you do him the honours of looking up at him — a fresh glare settled on your glowing features. “satoru gojo please stop referring to our baby as an ‘it’.” you sigh in exhaustion, watching him slump in his seat because you know he hates it when you’re irritated with him. “i thought you were excited about having a baby girl. and the grey one, it goes with your eyes.”

that seems to perk him up enough, earning you a kiss to your cheek that has you smiling like a fool in the nurses office. “sorry, sorry…” satoru starts to coo warmly, a soft tone that’s usually reserved for you and his students. “it’s just that… every time i look at you, i see two vessels of cursed energy instead of one. there’s a flicker of a flame there, right where she would be. it’s blowing my mind.” he points to your bump, nestled away under the layer of his clothing since they’re the only thing that makes you feel comfortable right now.

you close your magazine slowly, fighting the flutter of your heart and the warmth that spreads through your body. you know that your husband is being cautious, overly observant and extremely over protective — being pregnant and having a baby in your line of work was dangerous. scary, even. but you knew that satoru wanted this with you, and you him. that he cared a little too hard or worried slightly too much because while he was the strongest, you’d become every target and every weakness to him.

you and your daughter.

an unborn child who may possibly have the powers of a god among men.

so, instead you tuck away the irritation that comes with your hormones and let your gaze slink over to the large man squished into the abnormally small seat of the waiting room — just to be by your side. “do you need me to explain how pregnancy works, satoru?” you quip and rest your head on your knuckles, just to make him laugh and ease up a little.

a wiry smile starts to tug at the corner of his soft, pink lips. “i’d rather you show me but i think we got the fun part nailed.” gojo’s face splits into a wide grin, making you roll your eyes. “we made her, yanno. she’s alive in there because you’re keeping her safe.”

“and you too, mister six eyes.” you tap his skull, brushing against pure white locks, as gojo leans over you affectionately — probably in demand for a kiss (which you give).

the receptionist calls your family name from the front desk — no doubt to call you in for your neonatal appointment. another set of scans to help confirm your little girl is nice and healthy before you tell the rest of your friends and family later today.

gojo wanted to hand out copies of your scans to everyone at dinner. show off.

but as you stand, satoru goes quiet, offering you his hand as aid. “do you think…do you want…” pressing his lips into a thin line, your husband mulls over his words whilst guiding you down the hall to the doctors office — nodding to the receptionist to thank her as you pass. “i hope she doesn’t have what i have. i wouldn’t wish this burden on anyone.” he looks you straight in the eye, blue eyes piercing your soul. you feel your baby move and kick, forcing you to wonder if she’ll have the same mind blowing eyes as her father. “i hope she’s like you. beautiful and strong and—“

“ours. she’ll be ours and the best parts of both of us. her daddy’s strength, bravery, good looks and her momma’s wits, pretty ‘get me what i want eyes’ and smarts too.” you laugh, bright and loud as you cut gojo off — turning to look at him with a happy smile. “if she turns out like that, the best parts of both of us she’ll be perfect. i’ll love her because you gave her to me, we can figure out the rest later.”

that seems to reassure satoru, who sags in relief by your side as he wraps an arm around you, his large palm splaying across your baby bump. “you’re right, you’re right,” he grins again, feeling her little feet mercilessly kick at his palm. “as long as she’s healthy, we’ll be fine. i love you.”

“we love you too.” you swoon a little too much.

satoru gojo will be a great father, you think, your baby girl is so lucky — she has the strongest daddy in the world and he loves her a little too much already.

#gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x you #satoru gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #satoru gojo x you #angelshubnetwork #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki

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robertreich · 6 months

Video

youtube

No Labels Isn't What It Claims to Be

The “No Labels” Party is not what it pretends to be. It’s a front group for Donald Trump.

Now I understand, if you’re sick of the two major parties, you might be intrigued by a party that claims to be a “common sense” alternative that finds the middle ground.

But if you or anyone in your life is planning to vote for No Labels — or any third party — in 2024, please watch and share this video first.

Here are three things you need to know.

First, No Labels is a dark money group with secret far-right donors. Investigative reporting has revealed that they include many of the same Republican donors who have pumped huge sums of money into electing candidates like Trump and Ron DeSantis. They also include the rightwing billionaire Harlan Crow, who spent years secretly treating Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas to a lifestyle of the rich and famous.

If the No Labels Party is backed by Trump donors, in an election where Trump is on the ballot, there’s actually a label we should give to “No Labels.” Clearly, they’re a pro-Trump group.

Second, the premise No Labels is based on — that Donald Trump and President Biden are at equally extreme ends of the political spectrum — is preposterous.

Trump has been impeached twice, found by a jury to have committed sexual assault, is facing 91 criminal charges in four separate cases — two of them in connection with an attempt to effectively end American democracy.

There is no “equally extreme” candidate as Trump!

Finally, the structure of the Electoral College means that as a practical matter, a third party only draws votes away from whichever major party candidate is closest to it. No third party candidate has ever won a presidential election.

And in this particular election, when one of the major parties is putting up a candidate who threatens democracy itself, we cannot take the risk.

Donald Trump has already tried to overturn one election and suggested suspending the Constitution to maintain power. It is no exaggeration to say that if he takes the White House again, there may not ever be another free and fair election.

Democracy won by a whisker in the last presidential election. Just 44,000 votes in Arizona, Georgia, and Wisconsin — less than one tenth of 1 percent of the total votes cast nationwide — were the difference between the Biden presidency and a tie in the Electoral College that would have thrown the election to the House of Representatives, and hence to Trump.

If candidates from No Labels— or any other third party, like the Green Party or the Libertarian Party — peel off just a fraction of the anti-Trump vote from Biden, while Trump voters stay loyal to him, Trump could win the top five swing states comfortably and return to the Oval Office. And No Labels’ own polling shows they would do just that!

Let me be absolutely clear. Third-party groups like No Labels are in effect front groups for Trump in 2024, and should be treated as such.

The supposed “centrism” No Labels touts is nonsense. There is no middle ground between democracy and fascism.

Please share this video and spread the word.

#youtube #politics #Donald Trump #Joe Biden #No Labels #election #video #videos

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taexoxosgf · 4 months

Text

THIS DECEMBER

PAIRING park jisung x fem!reader | ft. friendgroup!nct dream

WORDS 5k

SYNOPSIS Your horny friends try to pull a little prank on you in the days leading up to Christmas. One thing Park Jisung likes to remind them is: he totally doesn’t want any part in it. Except, he totally does.

WARNINGS smut, ANGST, fluff, lots of dialogue, vag fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, vanilla vanilla vanilla, they're in love basically

NOTES I have to admit, this isn’t my best work lolllllll. though this was supposed to be posted on christmas, this can be my new years gift! 2024 here we come babyyy

★ Part of A Dreamy Christmas Collab!

“Why don’t we all be her secret Santa?”

“What are you talking about?” Jaemin chuckles, eyes dancing as he seems intrigued by the idea. But what pervades his mind was nothing like what Donghyuck was about to propose.

“Think about it…” he trails. “She used to say, if it’s an SOS, and we need help in that department,” he points to his crotch– “She would help us out.”

“You’re fucking crazy,” Jisung rolls his eyes when he catches on to Hyuck’s sudden idea.

“So you’re saying we all get her a present?” Chenle asks.

“Yes… But we all have to give her the same… present,” he walks between each of the men like a devil hovering over their shoulders.

“Hyuck, just get to the point,” Jeno huffs.

“Okay, bu–”

“No ‘buts!’ Get to your point,” Renjun groans.

“The gift we’re giving her can’t be put into a shitty little box.”

“Oh my god, NO!” Mark whines.

“What’s so wrong with a little fun?”

“Are you seriously suggesting an… orgy?”

“No, you idiot,” Hyuck pinches his nose bridge. “Let’s all give her our present one by one leading up to Christmas… Like an advent calendar,” he shrugs, unable to hide the pride beaming off of him from the simile.

“So you’re suggesting we all have sex with her in the days leading up to Christmas? Am I hearing this right?” Jaemin intervenes once more, orbs gleaming with interest.

“Ding Ding! We have a winner!”

“Jisung’s right. You’ve gone insane,” Renjun fully laughs.

“You know I’m insane, and that’s why we have fun. But you know what? Let’s make this more interesting… When we tell her after Christmas, the person who she says is her best fuck, get’s her secret Santa present,” Hyuck smirks. “You know she goes all out.”

“I’m in, but it might be hard for Mark because he’s actually in love with her,” Jaemin turns his body towards his friend who avoids eye contact before offering a retort.

“Why just me? You guys are all in love with her!” His claim is met with a group of huffs and groans.

“How do you know she’ll even agree to this?” Jeno points out, earning a nod from the others.

“She doesn’t have to if she doesn’t want to. If she does, then great! Amazing even! But if she doesn’t, then man, I feel kinda bad because we all got a thing for her.” Hyuck accepts the facts of the predicament. “Hopefully we can laugh about this on New Years.”

“I don’t. I guess I’m the only one,” the youngest of the group speaks out but it’s not taken seriously by his older friends as a fit of laughter echoes within the small space.

Hyuck’s the first one to speak– placing a hand on Jisung’s shoulder, “You’re the worst out of all of us.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You guys always bicker and talk shit but I know all you want to do is rip each other’s clothes off,” Jeno jumps in. “Nice try though. I almost believed it.”

“I’m not! She’s annoying as hell!”

“So annoying you want to fuck it out of her, right?” Jaemin joins.

“You guys are jumping me right now, I’m leaving,” Jisung excuses himself earning a look of victory from his friends.

“Wait! So you agree to it, right? Jisung?! Hello?” Chenle and Renjun yell out in unison, but the only reply heard is the slam of a door.

“You’re serious about this Hyuck?” Mark asks one last time.

“No, but this is just so those two kids will finally admit they’re down bad for each other. I think this will be their breaking point.”

“Damn,” all the other boys yell in unison.

“I know right? Someone needs to hire me for something! I don’t know for what, but something!” he crosses his arms to bask in his actions.

“Yeah, yeah,” Mark laughs at his friend. “You’re so dumb.”

“Just wait and see. He won’t make it to Christmas…”

Everyone is being… weird.

On the very first day of December, you and all your friends come together to pick a name out of a jar. The game of Secret Santa is an annual tradition you love partaking in. But once the weather dropped thirty degrees, all the boys started acting shady. They were canceling plans with you on purpose, avoiding eye contact when you spoke to any one of them, and just running away the first chance they got. It was easy to get mad, even call them out for it, but the replies would always be the same– that there was nothing wrong or they were just tired.

And you’re not going to lie, it was starting to make your skin crawl. The sudden shift in dynamic between you and the boys has you wondering if you did something wrong. But if they were trying to pull something, then they had another thing coming. It was frustrating, trying to shake it out of them in every way possible, but no one would budge.

December eighth rolls around and you know everyone is free today because you all collectively promised Sunghoon that every year until the day you die, this day will always be open for him. It’s always an annual trip to the snowy mountains– a secluded cabin and powdery snow that’s fit for snowboarding. Surprisingly, but not so surprisingly, everyone’s busy up until the car ride to the cabin.

Their persistent avoidance, even for an event like this, just pulls on the strings even harder.

You’re leaning against the island of the kitchen, glaring into their souls from across the room as the music's bass reverberates throughout the warm cabin; and the bitter liquid in your plastic cup disappears like water down a drain.

“Why are you standing here all by yourself?”

You turn to the voice, sporting a grin once you realize who it is. “Hey, birthday boy. Just glaring at the boys. Don’t know if they notice though,” you squint a little harder, hoping they’ll finally notice.

Sunghoon’s orbs follow the seven of them scattered around the living room. “They notice alright. I’m sure they’ll come crawling back when they realize you don’t play.”

“Oh, they know I don’t. But they’re still gonna try anyway,” you let out a heavy sigh. “I just wish I knew what they’re up to. It’s killing me.”

“Just ask Jisung.”

“Why Jisung?” The mention of your friend’s name causes the subject of your orbs to shift to him, but he’s already looking your way. When you make eye contact, he hurriedly glances away, confirming the suspicion that something’s up.

“I feel like whatever they’re planning, he’s telling them he doesn’t want to do it.”

“Why is that so detailed? Do you know what they’re up to? Spill right now!”

Sunghoon shakes his head in denial, raising the cup to his lips before responding. “Nah, you guys are always going at it. That’s all. It’s just a hunch.”

“Fine, maybe I will. But I was gonna do it anyway.”

You’re already making your way towards Jisung when Sunghoon blurbs out. “If it doesn’t work, I’m always available.”

“You wish, Park.” But you stop in your tracks. “Wait, what?”

Sunghoon walks off in a hurry, “Nothing! Had to try at least once!”

Rolling your eyes at the birthday boy, you finally make your way to your destination but all seven of your friends go completely mute once you reach it. There’s not a sound emitting from them, and it practically forces smoke out of your ears.

“Okay, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” Jeno murmurs.

“You guys have been ignoring me ever since December started! Spill your evil plans right now!”

“Nothing’s going on,” Chenle adds, but it’s met with a crack of his voice at the final word, and you know one hundred percent they're lying.

“Haechan! I know you’re the mastermind,” you turn to your friend, but all he does is shrug, eyes still looking everywhere but yours as he nonchalantly sips from his drink.

“Nothing whatsoever. We’ve just been busy that’s all,” Jisung speaks out, but you chuckle, knowing he’ll eventually give in if you press him hard enough.

“Of course, you’re a part of this! Sunghoon told me you weren’t, but I doubted him as soon as those words left his mouth!”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Jisung’s tone changes, as if he’s warning you.

“That little shithead!” Jaemin groans.

“I knew it!” you exclaim.

“What did he tell you?” Renjun interrupts.

“Nothing, just what I said before.”

“Nothing is going on. You don’t believe us?” Jisung is still firm on his decision to make you believe otherwise. With that stupid smirk he’s trying to hide and how his form influences you to shift back.

“Of course, you’re still on that even though Jaemin just admitted you guys are planning something! You’re the worst!”

“And you’re a dumbass,” Jisung mumbles once you turn away.

“Look who’s fucking talking,” you don’t realize you’re stepping closer at every syllable exchanged and you don’t know why your friend loves to push your buttons so much.

“You always say I’m the worst and then you come right back. I don’t think you hate me as much as you say you do,” Jisung’s eyes glimmer with a playfulness to them, closing the space between the two of you as the bickering reaches its climax. But his words only fuel your rage.

At this point, you can only see red.

All you do with Jisung is bicker or fight about stupid shit. Your friendship with the other boys is the glue that holds you and Jisung together. No one could guess that you met all the boys through him. You both had been friends with benefits long ago— practically another lifetime. But you’d jump off a cliff before admitting that the shards of glass remain. And that it still cuts.

It’s impossible to act like everything is fine and you both can get along. So instead, you fight and fight until no more words can be said.

“Ooooo,” you hear Jeno say, reminding you you’re still in a place full of swarming bodies.

“What about you? You either hate me or you love me. It can’t be both,” you mutter, condemning yourself as you catch a glimpse of his lips hovering above yours. You're both staring one another down, and you notice the same vein on the side of his temple, and his jaw clenches with each phrase that escapes your lips.

“Watch it,” Jisung seethes.

“What? If you wanna play this game, let’s pla—“

“Okay! Enough of this,” Hyuck groans before dragging the both of you by the wrist and out of the main room.

“What are you doing Hyuck?” you urgently inquire, but he doesn’t reply. He only hurriedly rushes along, throwing you both into a bedroom you don’t recognize. And as you rush to escape the enclosed space, your friend shuts the door in front of your face– leaving you with your hands practically clawing at the door.

“Lee Donghyuck! Open the fucking door right now!” you yell out, unable to comprehend how your friend could think this was a solution. “Open the door before I beat your ass!”

“He’s not going to open the door,” Jisung reminds you of his presence amidst the chaos. “Not until the morning.”

“What?! No. No. No. This is not happening right now.”

“Let’s just sleep. So when we wake up, we can just get outta here.”

You scan the room, realizing there’s nothing for you to rest on except the bed in the center– the one Jisung is currently sitting on. “You think I can fall asleep with everything that’s going on? And I don’t even know what’s going on,” you’re shifting awkwardly, habitually rocking yourself on the heel of your feet following the eye of the storm.

“Just sleep. It’ll be over soon,” Jisung already makes himself comfy, placing his legs under the covers and rearranging the pillow to his liking. He’s too calm. Way too calm for what just occurred.

“Where am I supposed to sleep?”

“I don’t know, figure it out,” he mumbles, lids already fluttering shut. You hate how you admire how long his eyelashes are.

His eagerness to ignore the dilemma influences you to the bed to pry his lids open. As Jisung opens his eyes willingly, you finally take notice of how close you both are. His eyes widen at the proximity and he shifts back to the edge of the bed in surprise. You’re caught off guard because there seems to be something lingering in the air between the two of you. And you brush it off because you know it’s annoyance.

“Just sleep,” he softly lets out before returning to his original position. “Next to me.”

His softness in these last words has you admitting some defeat– realizing fighting won’t solve anything. “Fine.”

There are still zero answers that will satisfy your scrambled mind.

And you’re trapped in a room with someone you can’t stand for more than five minutes.

It’ll be over soon. Right?

You’re fucking drenched.

As the daze of sleep washes over, you notice the stickiness between your thighs. And not the good kind.

It felt as if you just entered the fiery pits of hell.

“What the fuck?” you whine. The air was so humid, you were practically suffocating. And as you turn to the side, you see an irritated Jisung. If you thought you looked gross, Jisung didn’t have a dry spot on his clothing.

You try your hardest not to stare at the clothing sticking to his abs. This is not the time.

“Don’t,” he warns, thinking you’re about to poke fun at him.

You chuckle at the sight of his discomfort, offering a half-assed apology. “Sorry.”

“Lee Donghyuck! Turn off the fucking heater!” he yells out, but there’s no answer.

“Fuck. We’re going to die.”

“I’m not dying here with you. That’s not how I’m going out.”

“Is that so bad? Chill the fuck out,” you roll your eyes.

“Yes it is! I’m gonna kick the door down and beat Donghyuck’s ass.”

You don’t know if it’s the unbearable heat, or the constant fucking attitude from Jisung all night. Maybe it was the pent-up frustration from all the other times you both didn’t get along. But you’ve decided enough is enough.

“What’s your fucking problem?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re always so fucking mad at me. I do nothing and you’re mad. I breathe and you’re mad. It pisses me off! At this point, I should be the one giving you the attitude you give me!”

“And you know what? I always cared what you thought. But not anymore. I’m done caring so pretend I don’t even exist,” your heart is beating out of your chest as the words spill out like vomit.

“That’s no–” Jisung’s unable to finish his sentence when suddenly his orbs follow your fingertips gripping the hem of your top to bring over your head– leaving you in a bra. “Wha-”

“It’s hot as shit and I’m not going to suffer. Do what you want,” you huff, continuing with the removal of your jeans. You notice Jisung's stare lingering on your contours as you eventually pull them off, and it appears as if a million different things are running through his mind when he suddenly glances away and shakes his head.

You’re not going to lie, it’s amusing seeing Jisung’s usual persona falter. Your boldness and the situation it creates masks the uncomfortable predicament the two of you are in. “It’s not like you haven’t seen me like this before.”

“What did you mean by ‘you used to care about what I thought?’” He swallows nervously.

His words have you stopping in your tracks, not realizing your words were true candor. “Nothing, I was just saying nonsense,” is all you can render as you make your way to the bed, but Jisung beats you to it, grabbing your wrist to prevent you from escaping.

“Tell me. Please. I know it wasn’t nonsense,” his voice is like syrup, the usual bite to it completely gone.

You turn to face him, though you regret it the moment you notice how his eyes match his voice. “Well, I cared what you thought because of what we did before we all became friends. And us… Or whatever we are. I don’t know what we are now but I cared about you and what you thought about me.”

“Cared?”

“I still do…”

“Then why do we fight?”

“I don’t know. I guess you hate me so I just returned that energy.”

“I don’t hate you,” he sounds hurt, the similar bite of his voice attempting to escape. “You annoy the hell out of me, but I could never hate you.”

“Oh…”

“You really act like you hate me though,” Jisung offers a small smile.

“I don’t hate you. You’re annoying as hell. And I just don’t know what to do with everything lingering in the air when I’m around you,” you bite your lip at the confession, realizing it wasn’t a very good one. And you see him watch you do so.

“You mean the tension?”

“Yeah… The tension… The tension causes us to fight. Right?” The air becomes more suffocating than it already is. Maybe it’s the heat, maybe it’s Jisung so close to you, or how you’re basically naked in front of him.

“What else would we do?” his eyes are still trained on your lips.

“I don’t know,” you murmur not above a whisper. “You tell me.”

“Let me try something,” he takes a step forward, shortening the small space between the two of you. “Promise you won’t get mad.”

“No promises,” you urge, because you’re unsure of what Jisung planned to do after the indirect confessions made in the room today. One things for sure. This territory hadn’t been visited in ages and it scares the shit out of you.

“What are you go–” You’re cut off the lips that make its way onto yours.

When you see Jisung dipping his head down to capture your lips onto his, you're taken aback. However, the minute he makes contact, your legs almost buckle. It's a familiar sensation, and you melt into him as he tests the waters with increasing devotion.

When you reciprocate the kiss, it gets feverish, and your trembling lips work together haphazardly, interwoven with airy sighs. His arms reach for your waist, pulling you into him harder than ever before. He knows your body like no one else, and it drives parts of your brain haywire. It feels like only yesterday that you both would rendezvous.

He groans into your mouth and squeezes your ass as you tug on his hair the way he likes it. It makes you whimper since the combination of the sloppy kiss and the rush of pleasure is far too satisfying.

It feels good. Way too good.

That's why when Jisung pulls away, you chase his lips and he emits a small chuckle at the action. “Tell me you missed me. Tell me you don’t hate me and never did,” his shoulders rise and fall at a rapid pace as he catches his breath.

“I don’t,” you look up at him, and you want nothing more to kiss him again. It feels like all the frustration aimed at him was sexual. It’s honestly his fault for always looking so tempting while offering some smartass retort. “I never did.”

"God, I missed you," he smashes his lips against yours again, this time much more aggressive, and the back of your knees reach the edge of the bed, briefly disconnecting your lips. You laugh, and he smirks before diving back into you as soon as your back comes into contact the mattress.

Something possesses him at that moment, makes his hands glide up the back of your thighs, to kiss down your neck, sucking and biting to leave small bites that he later licks over to soothe the sting. “Know how much you love to be marked.”

“And I know how much you love me choking on your dick,” you giggle, licking a long stripe along his neck up to his jaw.

“You’re dangerous,” Jisung hooks your thong aside, unsurprised when he notices the sticky arousal coating his fingers. “Fuck, I forgot how wet you get.”

“It’s from the heat.” Your words contradict themselves as noises of pleasure leave your lips when he runs his fingers along your folds. Jisung, on the other hand, knows the meaning behind your words like no other. “All this stickiness is from the heat? I don’t think so baby,” he offers some stimulation to your clit and your back arches once he comes in contact with your bud.

You shake your head and he dips his head down onto your neck offering a small kiss against the side of your neck. God, he looks so hot, with the sweat dripping down the side of his temple and his puffy lips from kissing.

The lewd sounds from his fingers running along your folds sends you into a frenzy. You’re attempting to gain more friction, bucking your hips to feel more. You’re so needy for his touch. You've been longing for this touch. "I'll be nice, baby," he says, inserting one finger inside your hole, your walls engulfing him up to the knuckle. Jisung experiments with twisting and curling his fingers, enjoying the way you gasp and pulse around his fingertips.

The wet glide is so satisfying and you moan, basically fucking yourself onto his fingers. “Sung–” is all you can choke out as he begins thrusting with a rhythm you both can’t forget. “Wai–”

But Jisung can’t withhold any longer, not with you looking so pretty underneath him. Not with the sounds that he remembers all too well. His cock practically throbs at these thoughts, begging to be free from its confines when you’re already a mess. He’s pressing against your clit along with the constant thrust of his fingers. “Shit, Sung!” you wail, already foreseeing your high from the short time.

Your nails dig into his forearm, body twitching from the overwhelming pleasure only he can give you. “Oh, fuck,” the words are combined with a moan as your orgasm takes you by surprise, coating his fingers in a creamy pearl substance. It drips down your folds as he pulls away, and the wash of the aftermath runs from your toes to the crown of your head. It’s blissful, but your hunger for him doesn’t stay satiated. “Good girl,” he says as he revels in your figure.

“I need you,” you pant. “Now.”

“Whatever you say, Mom,” he jokes as he pulls his shirt over his head before discarding the rest of his clothing.

“Ewww. Never say that again,” you say, earning a laugh from Jisung.

“Like words ever stopped me before pretty girl.”

He's tugging the side of your panties, dragging them down the side of your legs while practically gaping. He continues with your bra and he gazes, unable to believe everything taking place currently. You're like a dream, sprawled out beneath him. The pretty girl he could never get close to after being so close with.

“Ready?” he asks after he shakes himself out of the trance you have him in.

“Mhm,” you nod.

He pushes inside, sighing into your ear at the creaminess of your cunt. Your arms are wrapped around his neck as he bottoms out, fingers burrowing further into his scalp. Jisung, rather than staying against your neck, takes advantage of the chance to peer at you. When his nose brushes up against yours, all he sees are your lips caught between your teeth.

At the feeling of his big cock inside of you, you clench around him. He groans against your mouth, habitually bucking his hips forward. “Fuck,” you moan out, back arching at the feel of his cock dragging against your walls. Your brain is already a mess and it has been since the moment he kissed you. But Jisung loves how you’re a mess around him. He takes pride in how he makes you feel, and that turns him on beyond belief.

“Move Sungie, please,” you plead and Jisung groans at the nickname you know he loves so much. It’s enough for him to grab your wrists to pin them above your head before he begins moving.

“Sung,” you call out again when he begins to move. His calculated movements have you squirming beneath him, but you’re still perfectly fit against him and it’s as if you both never stopped this routine.

“You’re mine. I’m not letting anyone touch you,” he coos, and you’re quick to agree. “Yours.”

The constant rhythm he keeps has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and you're shivering when he picks up the pace--giving him a look that seems to make Jisung's cock practically explode. He snaps his hips forward, so close to the edge that you shudder at the perspective.

He's fucking you so well that your eyesight is fuzzy, and the brush of his dick against the spot that drives you insane only adds to the sensation. "I-I'm so close," you warn, your irregular breathing hitting his face.

“Wait S-sung-g no.” Just as you’re about to hit your peak, Jisung flips you over so that you’re sitting on his thighs. Though you’re disappointed in the delay of your orgasm, the angle has his cock pushing deeper than before, tip nudging against your velvety walls harshly. “Fuck, I can’t,” you beg as your back arches at the smallest movements.

As fast as words leave his throat, Jisung dips down to suck on your nipple, occasionally leaving purple blossoms. “Wait I’ll–”

“You’ll what?” he says, chuckling when he sees you instinctively grinding forward against his member. “Cream my cock?” He watches your fucked out expressions, loving how your eyes are lined with tears.

“I’m planning on it, “ he smirks before thrusting up into you.

“J-jisung!” you’re a sobbing mess above him as his harsh thrusts sends pure pleasure up your spine. His name falls off your lips like a mantra, and the gibberish he can’t make out only urges him to move furiously into you. Though your brain is a puddle of mush, the band in your lower abdomen is about to snap, so you grind your hips against him with newly found fervor, stimulating your clit in the best way possible.

Jisung watches you above him as his fingers dig into your waist. You’re so beautiful, he thinks. Everything about you, every part of your mind and body he worships, and he swears he’s not going to let go of you this time.

“S-sung,” you moan again and again, and Jisung continues to abuse your boob, kissing up your throat as you inch closer to your high. “So perfect.”

You let out a high-pitched moan at a specific thrust, and your thighs tremble against his. "I got you," he says as he places a gentle kiss on your lips. And after a few thrusts, you're collapsing against him, again repeating his name. You're just a lick away from teetering off the edge.

“I want it so bad,” you blabber against his neck. “S-so close. Don’t stop.”

“Give it to me,” he dips underneath to circle your bundle of nerves with the perfect pressure and you come undone, high-pitched moans and whimpers against his ear.

The mix of cum and the slick from prior allows the glide to be that much easier for Jisung to glide against as he tips over the edge as well. You’re still pulsing and gripping his cock like a vice and it’s a done deal for Jisung. “Inside?”

“Inside me,” you kiss the side of his neck. He feels euphoric as your noises against his ear urges him on and his arms hold you tightly. And after a few more thrusts and desperate hips, his cum shoots inside you. “Fuck.”

It's so much energy that when the sensation of your high washes over you, you collapse against Jisung, who also collapses against the mattress.

“You’re sticky,” you look at his face and admire how good the afterglow of sex looks on him.

Jisung massages little circles across the small of your back in comforting stillness.

“I’m going to murder Hyuck,” he realizes how much the humidity encases the room.

“Maybe not too brutal, because his plan to lock us in here so we can finally make up worked,” you notify him and his eyes light up.

“I think everyone’s asleep. How about we torture them some more?” he smirks at you.

“I say Hyuck isn’t going to get a wink of sleep tonight,” you mischievously grin and it’s enough for Jisung to dive down and continue drowning in your lips.

DECEMBER 31 11:59 PM

“Damn, I can’t believe my plan worked! You guys are attached to the fucking hip,” Hyuck comes over to you and Jisung hand-in-hand.

“Your plan worked for once dumbass,” Jeno butts in abruptly, almost spilling the alcohol in his cup.

“We have no more arguing but I don’t know if it’s worth it,” Jaemin points.

“You guys are like rabbits!” Mark yells out.

“Gross! Not the fucking time! I need to find someone to kiss,” Renjun groans.

“Yeah but everything Hyuck does to end our suffering, it just reappears as something else!” Chenle laughs, earning a middle-finger from the subject of his words.

“Guess you were right. We can laugh about this on New Year's,” Jeno turns to Hyuck.

“Happy new year motherfuckers,” Chenle says before clinking all the cups together.

You turn to Jisung as the clock counts down, his arm around your waist. “Happy New Year, boyfriend.”

“Happy New Year, Girlfriend,” he smiles the hardest you’ve seen him in a while.

“Happy fucking new year,” he says before smashing his lips onto yours.

Happy fucking new year indeed.

1K notes · View notes

plasticferal · 2 months

Text

keeping score | matt & chris sturniolo.

prologue: 'they say love is the sixth sense that destroys all other five senses’

authors notes: 1.9k, explicit language, reader discretion is advised. welcome to my first series, please enjoy the ride.

they both want you. the only way matt and chris can agree to settle who wins is through competition, one where you’re the prize. your own heart is torn between the two brothers. the thing is though, love doesn’t keep score.

they have two very different experiences to offer. two sides of the same coin. a coin you refuse you flip and settle on.

matt is the first to catch your eye in any room. he makes you nervous. butterflies, stuttering, awkward laughs, stuttering over your words. all of it. you like him. you’re unsure if he feels the same toward you.

however, you also like chris. the compliments he showers you in, the subtle flirting, the way he softens his tone around you, how giving he is, the way he’s so shamelessly himself. the list goes on. he’s different.

it’s a weird triangle of intrigue and unrequited feelings that lingers and is never acknowledged.

you’re already convinced it’ll never happen. with either of them. you’d be putting too much at risk considering how deeply you value your friendship before anything else. the fear of falling in love, and losing them both.

which might just be your karma for being into both brothers.

they occupy the living room. you’re upstairs, using nick’s bed to take a nap while he showers, and he takes long showers. he’s always given you a safe space in the house, to make it feel like home.

you love to annoy chris and matt by stealing their clothes, blankets, soft drinks out of the fridge, tagging along to every late night drive and fast food pick up.

they share everything with you, but you designate yourself in nicks’s room as to not stir up any terrible, rash decisions on your accord.

being fast asleep and tangled up in crisp, cold, silk sheets, it’s a deep sleep. completely escaping into your dreams.

you’re left unaware of the chaos that’s about to ensue in the living room between the two brothers who occupy your mind. chaos is the score in which reality is written upon.

“you like y/n, right?” matt asks chris.

you’ve had a strange feeling for a while now that matt is trying to set you up with his brother. which, as flattering as it is, it’s bittersweet.

matt is sinking lazily into the lounge while scrolling through his phone, on the furthest left. chris is on the furthest right with his feet kicked up on the coffee table.

they’re in direct view of each other on the L shaped couch. not in a literal sense, just in proximity. neither brother is actually looking up from a screen of some kind.

“what?” chris snaps his head toward matt, diverting from the television for a moment.

“just answer the question.” matt huffs.

“of course i like y/n. she’s the closest person in our life besides like, nick” chris shrugs, going to look back at the screen again.

matt groans in disappointment at his response.

“you know i don’t mean it like that.” matt sits up slightly, readjusting his position and posture.

“god here we go again.” chris runs a hand down his face, fearing his brother's next words.

“how do you really feel about her?” matt pries.

unusual for him. out of character even, chris is usually the one who needs to know everything all the time, and is never afraid to ask the hard hitting questions, as annoying as it may be. but not with this topic of conversation.

the difference is, chris does it because he’s genuinely curious. matt asks questions for his own selfish reason, to chris’s oblivion.

chris needs reassurance that he’s making the right decision in not pursuing you. matt needs to know if or when he’s going to have to compete. little does he know that time is nearing.

“man, i don’t know. i just- i like her. can’t we leave it at that?” chris’s tone is anguished.

“you’re avoiding the question-”

“i answered your question!” chris cuts matt off before he can fully form his sentence, and matt’s jaw tightens.

“fine, whatever.” matt waves his hands in the air with defeat before diverting back to his phone, leaving chris to linger on his words.

“i’m never gonna make a move. i know how you feel about her, too.” chris huffs, as though he’s annoyed at the response he’s had to give.

“what’d you mean?” matt gives chris a glare, like he’s daring his next words.

“you know exactly what i fuckin’ mean” chris scoffs, shifting in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest and pulling the sleeves of his gray hoodie past his knuckles.

matt takes a loud inhale through his nose and exhales through his mouth

“we can’t just keep pretending that we both don’t want her.” matt drops his phone onto his stomach face down, being slightly slumped.

“i’ve been fine pretending” chris throws the hood of his sweatshirt over his head to hide his eyes more from matt, a natural reaction to not enjoying the grilling.

“well if you don’t make a move, i will.” matt’s tone is serious.

“you wouldn’t.” chris deadpans, a sincere tone of disbelief seeping from his lip that he’s now biting the corner of.

“you’ve been saying you’re gonna make a move forever and haven’t done shit."

he knows it’s not nice, but there’s something about the lack of passion from chris despite the obvious crush just makes matt's skin crawl. if someone is going like you and not do anything about it, matt is more than willing to shoot his shot, give you what you deserve.

“that’s not fair” chris twists his face, glaring at his brother.

"i think it’s more than fair play at this point, kid.” matt scoffs.

if looks could kill, matt would be dead.

all those times you’ve perceived matt bringing up chris to entice you have just been a ploy to gauge how both of you feel. he knows it’s manipulative, but no harm, no foul.

the worst part is, chris isn’t actually even sure he wants a relationship. he’s infatuated by you, undoubtedly. matt on the other hand would marry you with a paper ring.

they’re both scared of their own feelings, and the intentions that might come along with them. they don’t ever want to hurt you, but their carnal desire is misleading their moral compass.

“alright then,” chris starts, matt’s words hitting a nerve for him. he slaps his hands onto his thighs and sits up in his spot.

“how do we settle this? who gets her?” chris continues, staring at his brother intently now.

“i don’t think we get to make that decision.” matt shakes his head, bringing his hand to his mouth as he begins to bite his nails, which muffles his words.

“you’re right, we don’t. but we’re gonna have to compete for it to even be an option.”

“compete” matt repeats chris’s words with a sour huff, a slight arrogance in the sense that he doesn’t view his brother as a threat.

not when it comes to you, and there might be a small part of that statement that’s correct. you have a sweet spot for matt, which fires up chris even more. he is conscious that he’s the underdog, as much as you try to show an even amount of attention to the both of them.

“what’s wrong? you scared you’ll lose?” chris taunts.

“that’s the least of my worries.” matt scoffs, his mind traveling down every possible path this terrible idea could go down.

“fine, then you won’t be afraid of a little competition.” chris says nonchalantly, pushing back with the same energy matt’s been giving, turning the tables.

“what’s your plan here? we just tally up the moments we get with her until someone wins? to boost our own egos?” matt speaks with his hands.

“i do love to have my ego stroked” chris grins to himself, the thought of you crossing his mind as the words leave his mouth. his train of thought tends to wonder easily.

“seriously, chris, how do we plan on settling this?” matt rubs his hands together, like the action you do when you’re trying to stay warm.

“i think there’s only one answer to that.” chris responds, in a “duh” tone, without explicitly sharing what’s on his mind.

their sixth sense of being able to unpack each other's minds sparks like an electrical fault in the moment. of course, neither of them hate the thought of getting you in bed. they just hate the thought of you being unaware.

somehow it’s more challenging than falling in love, or securing a relationship. betting to sleep with you is actually the hardest challenge of them all, let alone covering all the bases in order to attain it.

the intimacy, the intensity of it all. it just seems so unattainable. it requires them, and you, to be completely and utterly vulnerable.

“that seems kind of, objectifying.” matt shifts his demeanour, ironic considering he sparked the conversation.

“it wouldn’t be a competition without a challenge.” chris acknowledges, and unfortunately for the both of them, he’s right.

“this sounds so fucked up” matt says, running his hand through his scruffy hair.

“first brother to five points takes all. all of her.” chris speaks, confidently setting up the challenge.

essentially their plan is to see who can get the closest to you, and let the other brother suffer in watching it happen. which occurs points. loser has to back off of you completely. unless someone gets to you first, in which case all their hard work flies out the window. they won’t be making it easy for each other.

“points won’t matter when i get her into bed first.” matt’s smug, knowing it’ll make chris go insane.

“so i take it that you’re up for the challenge?” chris ignores matt’s words with a prompt, because if he doesn’t disregard it, he’ll lash out.

matt considers it. at least he acts like he does. he knows his answer. if he wants you, if either of them do, they have no choice but to compete. neither of them are sure if it’s love or lust, but they’re about to find out.

they are certain of one thing though. they like everything about you. the way you look. the way you smell. the way you sound. they know exactly why they want you. it’s the first time ever someone has been able to grab the attention of both brothers. hence the severity of the agreement.

“when do we start keeping score?” matt responds, and that’s all the reassurance chris needs in his brothers answer.

as if on command, you trudge down the stairs in a sleepy state. their eyes snap toward you simultaneously, and you blink repeatedly to make sure you’re seeing them right.

you are their favorite part of every day, so it’s not out of the ordinary for them to acknowledge your entrance, but you can feel the intensity of their eyes on you with a different energy.

with foggy vision still clearing as you rub your heavy, tired eyes, you let a small yawn escape. they both melt at the sight, despite you feeling like you’re in your least desirable state.

you’re not even paying attention to their back and forth bickering. the sound of their voices muffling through your ears. whatever it is they’re saying, they’re not saying it loud enough for you to hear before you even make it down the stairs.

“now.” chris states, eyes snapping back at his brother as they both raise off the lounge.

all is fair in love and war.

tag list: @luverboychris @floofparker @fake-sturniolos @letstripsturniolo @imwetforyourmom @mattsneezing @mattslolita @breeloveschris @rootbeerworshiper @mattstattoo @mxqdii @tay-laaaaa @pettydollie @lacysturniolo @annamcdonalds67 @landrysflannel @goandcomebsck @sleepysturnss @call-me-ninaaa @lustfulslxt @txssvx

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader

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moonstruckme · 8 months

Note

i love poly! Marauders♡

could you make a one shot where the reader gives the boys flowers and handmade gifts for the first time after their first month of relationship?

xoxo

Ugh yes our boys don't get enough gifts! Thanks for requesting gorgeous :)

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

When Sirius answers the door to the apartment he shares with his boyfriends to find you standing there with a bouquet of flowers, he very nearly panics. Naturally, his first thought is of the worst-case scenario: someone else has gotten you flowers, and you’ve decided to break it off with them and be with that fucker. Alternatively, you’re upset that they haven’t gotten you flowers in nearly a week (would those ones have died already? Sirius knows next to nothing about flowers; Remus is supposed to stay on top of that) and have brought an arrangement for them to give you as a not-so-gentle-nudge. He might be sick.

But you’re not deserving of the snappy response that comes to his lips, so Sirius swallows and tries to find his gentlest voice. “Hey there, gorgeous. What’re those for?”

You grin until your cheeks dimple, flushing in the way Sirius has grown familiar with over the past few weeks: you’re excited, but a bit embarrassed to show it. “Happy one-month anniversary,” you say, extending the bouquet to him as James and Remus come into the room behind him, intrigued by what’s keeping their boyfriend so long at the door. Your eyes dart between the three of them in that nervous way of yours as you explain in a rush, “I know it’s silly, but I’ve just been wanting to give you all gifts for a while now, and no one’s birthday is coming up for months.”

“Thanks, dove.” Remus is the first of them to reply, nudging past Sirius to take the flowers from you. James is grinning so hugely it’s pushing his eyes nearly closed, and Sirius suspects he’s staring at you like you’ve hung the moon. “These are beautiful. It’s a month today, really?”

You nod bashfully.

“Then shit,” Sirius says, collecting himself, “you’re not silly; we’re ridiculous for forgetting! Come on in, sweet thing.” He grins at you, and when you shy, as you are wont to do, at his brash manner, James takes your hand and encourages you through the doorway. “Do we have some wine or chocolate or something?”

“We do,” Remus replies, disappearing into the kitchen. “And grapes. Are you alright with white wine, dovey?” You hum in affirmation, and Sirius thanks Merlin for his refined boyfriend, without whom he and James would stock the apartment entirely with crisps and pot noodles.

James takes you to the living room, sitting you beside him, probably not as close as he’d like but wary of making you jumpy. Sirius isn’t so cautious, plopping down next to you so that your legs and hips are squished together simply because he delights in making you flush.

“Leave off ‘er,” James says defensively, and Remus returns, laying the snacks and refreshments on the table before sitting beside Sirius and encouraging him to lean on his shoulder. Sirius huffs in protest, but goes willingly.

His problem taken care of, James turns his attention back to you. “Thanks for the flowers, sweetheart,” he says, and Sirius notices that Remus must have found a vase for them while he was in the kitchen. They’re sitting in the center of the coffee table, arranged prettily in water. “You didn’t need to get us a gift, but that’s so lovely of you.”

You bite your lip, and Sirius knows you have something to say before you say it. “I, um…” you play with your fingers. He wants to take them in his hands, spreading each one between his own. “I’m really glad you like them, but those actually aren’t the gifts I was talking about.”

Sirius watches as James’ expression turns giddy at the plural there. Gifts.

You reach into your bag and pull out a pair of gloves. They’re gray, and they look thick, like they’re made out of some sort of knit material. They’re also huge. You extend them to Remus. “I know you can never find ones that fit,” you say hesitantly, “so I’m hoping these might work? I couldn’t measure to get it exactly right, but I think they’re big enough.”

Remus takes them with something akin to awe in his expression, and Sirius’ mouth goes dry as realization dawns upon him. He’d always thought Remus cut the fingers off his gloves because it looked cool (admittedly, there had been several years when Sirius had copied him for that very reason), but it was because they didn’t fit. His lengthy, slender fingers had to be too long for most gloves. Sirius felt stupid for not realizing it. He glances at James, finding a similar expression of dumbfounded epiphany on his boyfriend’s face. They’d both known Remus for years, and you’d picked up on his plight over the course of a month.

“Did you make these?” Remus breathes, taking the gloves from you gingerly.

“Mhm,” you nod, proud and sheepish at the same time. “I crocheted them.”

“You…they’re perfect. Thank you, dove.” Remus looks the softest Sirius thinks he’s ever seen him, and he feels like someone’s scooped out his guts and replaced them with syrup.

“No problem.” Your cheeks dimple as you duck your head, digging through your bag again. This time you emerge with something red, also crocheted, and vaguely rectangular, turning to James.

He looks at you adoringly as he takes it, but it’s clear he’s as clueless about what it is as Sirius feels.

“It’s a glasses case,” you supply. “I don’t know if you even want one, but you’re always breaking them by knocking them off the nightstand, and I thought maybe it’d help.” You shrink a bit. “Don’t worry about it if you don’t want to use it.”

“‘Course I’m using it.” James sounds appalled, and he takes your hand in his, squeezing gently until your smile returns. “This is so thoughtful of you, angel. Really, thanks so much. I’m going to use it every night.”

You grin hugely, all but glowing at his praise, and when you turn back to your bag, and Sirius is almost surprised there’s still one left for him. As if sitting here, basking in the happiness of all the people he cares about most, isn't enough of a gift.

Still, that doesn’t mean he’s not curious what it is.

You pass him a small pouch, and you’ve made it purple with a black star in the middle. Sirius loves it without knowing what it’s for. Hell, he doesn’t even care if it has a utility, he wants to frame it on his wall.

“I know you drop your earbuds a lot,” you say, “so I thought maybe you could put them in here sometimes, to protect them. I put little loops on it in case you want to carry it or attach it to something, but you could just keep it in your pocket, if you want.”

Sirius takes his earbuds out from his pocket, slipping them into the little case, and they fit perfectly inside. He grins at you, and when you smile back, the corners of your eyes crinkling, his restraint snaps. He lunges for you, wrapping one arm around your shoulders and cradling your head with the other hand. His heart aches, and it's as much for the thoughtfulness and care you put into his own gift as it is for the joy you’ve given to Remus and James. He doesn’t think his heart can handle carrying around this much love. “Thank you,” he murmurs into your hair, and your arms come around his middle, squeezing tight.

He takes his time in releasing you, but when he does you’re immediately captured by James, who kisses the side of your face haphazardly. Remus has gone mute beside him, but Sirius suspects both boys are feeling overcome by the same desperation to express their appreciation as he is. He doesn’t think they’ll ever get close.

“Fucking one-month anniversary,” he says, and he sounds breathless even to his own ears. “I hope you’ve kept the night free, gorgeous, because now you have to let us take you out to dinner.”

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sweetbbarnes · 11 months

Text

Jealous

TFATWS!BuckyBarnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky had no idea you could get so jealous over him. He’s not complaining, though.

Warnings: nothing much, jealous!reader, mentions of reader being insecure about herself (no body descriptions except from a part where it says that reader has calloused/scarred hands), a tiny hint at reader and Bucky having sex (you have to squint)

A/N: PLS I have nothing against long pink nails that’s actually how my nails are right now

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY STORIES TRANSLATED, COPIED OR POSTED TO ANY OTHER SITE/APP/ACCOUNT. DO NOT STEAL MY WORK.

You have absolutely no right to feel like this.

The almost unbearable pang in your chest grows sharper and sharper as you observe the vibrant red lipstick luring Bucky into a conversation that leaves you to wonder what could be so intriguing. Oh, I actually know what’s so intriguing, you think to yourself as your eyes dart over her too revealing outfit. Talking, talking, talking. You summon the word like a mantra, repeating it over and over again in your mind, desperately trying to convince yourself that everything is fine. They’re just talking, right? So what if her hand and her stupidly long pink nails are strategically resting on his chest? What does it matter if she’s wiggling her hips all the time to show off? Everybody does that, it means nothing!

“You okay there, kid?” Sam asks, concerned, using the old nickname even though he knows you’re a little too far from being a kid now. “You look like you want to murder someone”

You shift the gaze towards your friend, attempting a smile that could honestly be mistaken with a grimace. “Just tired.” Your reply is barely audible over the unnecessarily loud music pulsating through Sharon’s mansion. They’re just talking.

“I must say,” Zemo unfortunately started with his infuriatingly smug grin “I never took you for a jealous woman”

“Jealous?” Sam repeated the infamous word, a little confused.

“Shut up, Zemo.” You reply dryly, shooting the man a glare that would make Bucky proud, if only he was paying attention to you and not some random woman’s boobs.

“She’s jealous of the pretty lady who’s captivating her soldier’s attention.” Zemo annoyingly elucidates the situation to Sam.

You watch, tortured, as Sam’s confused expression morphs into one of understanding as he gives Zemo a knowing look. “Y/n, if you’re-”

“I am not jealous and he is not ‘my soldier’.” You snap, your words coming out a little louder than you intended. Feeling frustrated in front of the truth Zemo just shoved at your face, you storm off towards the bar and ask the bartender for a beer.

You’re trying to ignore it. You really are. But your eyes can’t seem to abandon the enchanting figure across the room. She’s tall, stunning, feminine. Her skin is probably soft, void of the calluses and scars that mark your own — you wonder if Bucky can feel the softness through his shirt where she’s touching. She walks around in a piece of cloth that leaves too little to the imagination as if she fucking owns the place. Her lipstick matches so perfectly with her skin tone that if you didn’t know better you'd think she invented the color red. Every single aspect of her mere existence seems particularly designed to piss you off - but that could just be because her taste in men is pretty similar to yours. And there stands Barnes, wearing that infuriatingly sweet smirk of his, clearly enjoying the attention.

He can flirt with pretty girls. You tell yourself, trying to see things through a logical lens. He's a single, independent, free man. He can do whatever the fuck he wants.

That much is true. To some extent.

See, he is single, and independent, and free. The only problem is, he had been flirting with you for the past two weeks — ever since Sam called you asking for help with the flagsmashers and Barnes forced his way into the situation. Or at least, you thought he was flirting. You could’ve read too much into his actions. But then again, if you were overanalyzing it, so were Sam and Zemo, because they just won’t stop teasing you about it.

Out of the two, Sam’s teases are the worst, of course. The damn asshole knows all too well that you had been pinning over Barnes since the day you helped save him years ago, back when everything was simpler. But then Wakanda happened, followed by Thanos, the blip, and the soul-wrecking taste of losing Bucky — and everyone else — for good. Then he came back, and now here you are, still hopelessly infatuated with the same dude.

Only now things are a little bit different. Because he had been gone, and in the time he was away, you had aged five years. He no longer addresses you as "kid," and you’re pretty sure you had caught him stealing glances at you when he believed no one was looking. Glances that resemble the way a man looks at a woman. Or so you desperately hoped thought. But all those fragile beliefs are now on the verge of shattering as you watch him giving the pretty lady a look that threatens to extinguish every ounce of hope you still hold onto.

"For someone who claims she's not jealous, you sure seem to be," Sam playfully mocks, breaking the silence as he sits in the barstool next to you.

You let out a heavy sigh. "Don't start."

"Are you going over there?" Sam asks nonchalantly.

"And say what? Hey, Barnes, I know we don't have anything and I have absolutely no right to be jealous, but could you please stop flirting with pretty women when I'm around? It really fucking stings?"

"It's a start," Sam shrugs.

You scoff, grabbing another beer from the bartender.

"If you're not willing to resolve it, at least stop glaring at the woman like you want to decapitate her," Zemo, much to your annoyance, joins the conversation.

"Since when do you care?" you retort, irritated with the audacity of this man.

"I don't. Just trying to be helpful," Zemo replies casually.

"Well, you're not," you roll your eyes.

"Although,” he adds after a moment of much appreciated silence, “if you're genuinely jealous, I suggest you don’t look now."

The smartass knows exactly how to get under your skin.

Shifting your gaze to where Bucky stands allowing himself to be drawn by cheap men-hooking techniques, your mouth suddenly dries. Planted far too close for your liking, the woman seductively whispers something right next to his ear as her hand caresses his bicep.

He’s not mine, you remind yourself, desperately trying to push the jealousy that threatens to consume you.

He doesn't owe me anything, you reason, the logical side of your brain trying to establish control.

I don’t have the right to feel like this. You shove your half done bottle into Sam’s chest, who holds it with an exasperated look directed at you.

I have absolutely no right to be jealous. You scold yourself as your legs start moving of their own accord, marching towards the pair.

You're nothing to him, you repeat in your mind, determination guiding your steps. When they finally notice your presence, it’s too late. You had already positioned yourself between them, fully facing Bucky.

"Excuse me, we were in the middle of a conversation," the pretty lady interjects, her tone doesn’t hold any particular hostility but her words irritate you nonetheless. How dare she flirt with your man?!

You turn your head towards her, lifting one eyebrow in a display of unimpressed indifference, before decisively returning your attention to Bucky. Grabbing him by the collar, you pull him closer and fervently press your lips against his.

Startled by your sudden attitude, he takes a few moments to fully register what the hell is going on, but as you refuse to back down, he slowly encircles his metal arm around your waist, raising his other hand to your cheek so he can hold your face and properly kiss the woman he’s been head over heels for since he came back to his senses when Steve saved him.

As Bucky deepens the kiss, taunting your parted lips with the tip of his tongue, the world around you fades into insignificance. The pent-up emotions, the frustration, the longing, and the overwhelming uncertainty, everything melts away in the intensity of the moment. Time stands still as you grant him full access to your mouth, both your stubborn natures fighting to dominate and control the kiss.

Realizing you need oxygen to survive, you release your grip on Bucky's collar, breaking the kiss but keeping your eyes locked with his. The unspoken words and long cultivated desires building up a tension one could cut with a knife.

The soldier's piercing gaze searches for yours, a mix of surprise, confusion, and something else flickering within the depths of his ocean blue eyes. Without actually thinking about what he’s doing, his grip tightens around your waist, pulling you closer. For a brief moment, you don’t dare say a word, the gravity of the situation sinking in, neither of you quite sure how to navigate the newfound territory you had just barged your way in.

But obviously, because Bucky is Bucky and you are you, that signature smirk of his slowly starts to show itself, and you somehow know what’s about to come.

“Well, darlin’, if that’s what you do when you get all riled up, I should probably find some more ladies to flirt with.” He teases, lightly squeezing your waist.

“Don’t push it, Barnes.” You fake scold, trying to hold back a smirk of your own.

He lowers his head until his lips are right next to you ear, so close that you can feel his warm breath as he speaks, “though if I got this attitude whenever you make me jealous, dollface, I have a feeling we’d be kissing a lot more”

A delicious shiver runs down your spine as you tease.”You keep the sweet talk, Sarge, and we’re gonna end up in Sharon’s spare bedroom.”

Well, you did end up in Sharon’s spare bedroom. And the bathroom. And the kitchen. And every single room in his apartment after you went back home. But that’s a story for another time.

Bonus:

Sam scowls as he watches the pretty lady storm away from you two, reaching his back pocket to get Zemo’s twenty dollars.

“I hope you know this is the last time I make a bet with you.” Sam mumbles, displeased, sipping the beer he knows very damn well you won’t be coming back to get.

Zemo shrugs nonchalantly, tucking away the money both of them know he doesn’t really need, but holds immense satisfaction as it represents his symbolic triumph over the bet. He smirks. "I must remind you, I did mention I could be quite persuasive."

masterlist

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #james bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x female reader #tfatws fic #tfatws fanfiction #tfatws!bucky #bucky fic #bucky x you

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littlecharmingenvy · 9 months

Text

Diavolo Headcannons

Dia brainrot go brrrrrr (pls I love this man)

warnings: NSFW (MDNI), couple of kinks mentioned, Diavolo having a sub-par father, author not knowing how to take things seriously (aka, use of the phrase "dicked down crazy style"), uhhh I feel like I'm missing something but I can't think of it so if I am pls lmk

SFW

<3- He’s always been intrigued by humans; how such fragile creatures could have so much courage would never fail to amaze him. So when MC comes along, this sweet little thing who didn’t even know demons actually existed until a few weeks ago, he can’t help but be impressed on how little fear they show

<3- Immediately finds himself attracted to MC, but, of course, being the crowned Prince of the Devildom, he tries to keep things diplomatic. He didn’t want to risk a scandal, especially not now, since everything was finally working out to his liking

<3- MC recognizes Dia as the Prince, but because they didn’t grow up in the Devildom, they aren’t sure what that title exactly entails, so they stick to treating Dia like they would any other person, much to Lucifer’s chagrin and Diavolo’s delight

<3- With how casual MC is to Diavolo, he quickly finds himself falling for them, despite his best efforts not to. How could he be expected to not fall head over heels for them? Especially with their laugh when they’re caught off guard, or the side eye they give that seems especially reserved for Diavolo, when one of the brothers does something laughable. He feels special, as if their little silent conversations exist in a place no one can taint; its something just for them, and that’s something Diavolo has always yearned for

<3- As soon as he realized his feelings were something he couldn’t just brush over, he told MC. He’s a patient man, but he sees no point in hiding it from you, not when you two were already as close as you were. He swears his soul ascends to the Celestial Realm when you reveal that you feel the same

<3- Showers you in the finest jewels and gold (or silver if it matches your complexion better, cool toned shawtys gotta stick together FR). His father growing up only showed affection by gift giving, leaving Dia to lack any emotional warmth outside of material objects. While he tries to be better than his father, and is always praising you and showing love in any way he can, he especially loves giving you gifts, as that’s how he learned to show love

<3- He doesn’t mind receiving gifts from you, anything you give him he’ll cherish for the rest of his life, but he gets especially soft when you make him something. Little paper flowers? They’re the prettiest he’s ever seen. You bake him cookies? They’re the best he’s had in years (don’t worry, Barbs gets it). Give him origami you made in class when bored? He’s proposing then and there /j (/hj?). Just the idea that you thought about him and cared enough to make someone by hand makes him all soft and fuzzy inside.

<3- Aside from handmade things, Diavolo adores quality time. Just having you sit near him while he’s doing paperwork or enjoying his tea send him over the moon

<3- Very protective. While he’s sweet with you, and would never let you see any other side, he is still a demon, and he would (and has) threatened or killed a few who wished harm on you, and he’d do it again without a second thought

<3- Loves loves loves pet names. Lover, My dear, Angel (ironic), Beloved, he hardly ever calls you by your name anymore

<3- Overall, very soft with his lover. He just wants them to know how much he loves and adores them

NSFW

<3- I know this is widely agreed upon fandom-wise, but I’ll say it again for good measure. Size. Kink. Seeing how small you are compared to him makes him want to rail you into next week. When you look up at him with those doe eyes of yours, having to crane your neck up to make eye contact? Done. He’s dead. He died. It’s over for him

<3- You know monster fuckers? That’s how he feels about humans. Human fucker? Idk, but his enamoration with humans doesn’t stop in the bedroom

<3- Tries to be soft with you, really, he does. But at some point he just breaks, and he needs to dick you down crazy style then and there

<3- Praise kink, going both ways. He’ll tell you how pretty you are and how good you’re being for him, and will nearly cum when you tell him how good he’s making you feel

<3- He’s open to a lot of kinks, but isn’t likely to bring them up. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t love experimenting though. Actually, it’s you who makes him realize he’s into a lot more than he thought he was

<3- Loves giving head. Really, good luck getting him off of you once he starts. He’ll be down there as long as you’ll let him, accidentally overstimulating you pretty much every time. But when he paws at your clothes and looks at you pleadingly, you can’t help but give him what he wants

<3- Generally, Dia’s just a big boy who wants to make his little human feel good. Boy’s absolutely whipped for you, and isn’t afraid to show it. Anyone who has a problem with it will be taken care of

#obey me smut #obey me #otome #smut #obey me!#obey me diavolo #obey me hcs #obey me headcanons #obey me diavolo smut #obey me diavolo headcanons #diavolo headcanons #diavolo smut #headcannons

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jihyoruri · 5 months

Note

can we get a wow!yn and winter oneshot? they’re so intriguing to me I just wanna see how their relationship was😭

I LIKE YOU — kim minjeong x reader

warnings: wow!yn, idol au, fluff, (you can also find more wow!yn things on my masterlist)

the sound of the pounding rain of outside hits the windows of the dorm it over takes the sound of the movie coming from the tv in front of the three girls who are sprawled on the couch.

“she’s so stupid.” yizhuo says towards the girl on the tv, jimin and minjeong nodding in agreement, minjeong opens her mouth to add onto the younger girls comment but the sound of jiggling keys cuts her off.

the three girls turn their heads to see aeri at the door way taking her keys out of the lock, minjeong was about to shout that they’re watching the movie that she recommended but it dies in her throat when she sees the tall figure behind her member and she’s instantly nervous.

they watched as the two girls walked fully into the dorm, “I brought a gift guys!” aeri, “every girls dream.” she says wrapping an arm around yn’s waist, presenting the taller girl like she was on sale.

she wasn’t on sale actually, and minjeong so wanted to say it when she saw the way jimin’s gaze lingered on yn.

“hey yn,” yizhuo said towards the girl with a smile, who returns her smile, they’ve always had a nice friendship, definitely nowhere near close as yn and aeri but they’ve always been cool with each other, it’s probably because they’re the same age.

yn and jimin just give each a nod of acknowledgment, like always.

minjeong feels her face heat up when yn turns her gaze towards her, she awkwardly waves at yn who just laughs at the older girl.

“I think you wore your last batch of clothes in my room the last time you were here.” aeri says to yn, she was about to offer to lend you some but yn cuts her off.

“I should have some clothes in minjeongs.” yn says nonchalantly, causing everyone to pause and look at minjeong who looks in her lap in embarrassment.

“oh?” aeri says looking at minjeong and then at yn and yizhuo lets out a laugh while jimin just looks at her phone.

“yup.” yn says before playfully kissing aeri’s cheek and walking towards minjeongs room.

a couple minutes go by and everyone stares at minjeong waiting for the girl to explain but all she does is cough awkwardly and gestures towards her room before getting up quickly and walking towards her room.

she hears aeri yell a “we’re talking about this later.” before she closes her room door.

she turns around to find yn laying on her bed in more comfortable clothes with her phone in her face, she lets out a sigh and walks over to the girl and plops right on top of her, earning a grunt from yn.

“you didn’t have to do all of that.” she says to yn pointing her finger at the girls face, causing yn to bite it earning a squeal from the aespa member.

“do what?” yn aks putting her phone down and bringing one of her her hands to rest behind her head looking down at the girl laying on her, “I needed my clothes.”

“I know…” she mumbles, “but now they’re gonna interrogate me.” she whines earning a laugh from yn.

“and I’ll be there to witness it.” yn jokes, “can’t wait.”

minjeong rolls her before sitting up and adjusting herself to straddle yn, “are you sleeping over today?”

yn shakes her head no as minjeong plays with the star ring on her finger, “not today, I gotta help hyunseo with her homework.”

minjeong lets out a playful aww earning a an embarrassed groan from yn, “you’re such a big sister.” she says poking the girls cheeks.

“stop.” yn whines, moving her heated face away as minjeong laughs.

after the laughter dies down she grabs yn’s hand again and plays with the star ring, “yn?”

“hm?”

“I like you a lot.”

there’s silence before yn grabs winter’s necklace and mutters a soft “I know.” before bringing the girl down to meet her lips.

#wow!yn #aespa x reader #aespa winter #winter aespa #winter x reader #kim minjeong x reader #girl group fluff #girl group imagines #aespa imagines #aespa fluff

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chelseeebe · 10 months

Text

come pick me up.

part one to do you think i have forgotten (about you)

summary: it had always been you and eddie. but one night and a whole lotta unexplored feelings leave you both reeling and you’re not sure if it ever really was you and eddie.

a/n: ermm this is so so long i’m so sorry already LOL i’ve had it in the drafts for so long but i reread it n rlly liked it so i wanna post hehe! side note: there are ZERO pictures of eddie not in that fuckin hellfire shirt D: i can’t have a grown man wearing that now …

loosely based off of the cook/freddie/effy storyline from skins uk if you’ve seen it you’ll know.,,, they’re like in their early twenties n it’s set sometime in the 90s ish tho it’s not rlly mentioned

no use of y/n! smut, 18+. this is more so stevexreader than eddie but they do have a relationship of sorts n it’s a lil’ complicated.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ❤︎ ❤︎ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

the sound of a high pitched alarm screaming jolts you awake. still partially in last nights clothes, the grubby feel of makeup on your face. leg slung over eddie’s torso.

you groan, shoving his arm as he’s still very much asleep, ‘shut up,’ grimacing as the noise continues.

he mumbles something, wildly slapping his arm about to turn off the damn thing.

you run a hand over your face, remnants of your black eyeliner on your hand. that horrid taste in your mouth only found after a night of drinking. which seemed to be just about every night at the moment.

‘why’d you set an alarm, you freak?’ rolling over onto your stomach, perched on your elbows, watching as his eyes slowly open, obviously feeling as shit as you did.

‘i have- had class, you freak,’ he grumbles, looking up at you from the pillow, curly hair fanned out around him.

you scoff, ‘like you were gonna go,’ attempting to rub the rest of your mascara off, sure you looked similar to a wild raccoon.

he hums in response, shuffling under the covers to tangle his leg with your yours, ‘you gonna sort this out for me?’ referring to the obvious morning glory tenting the blanket.

‘you gonna ask nicely?’ you respond, snarling at his crudeness.

whatever he was about to say was interrupted with a knock at the door, ‘we’re coming in, you have five seconds to not be naked,’ robin’s voice echoes.

you look up as robin walks into the room, hand over her eyes until steve gives her a small nudge, indicating the coast is clear, ‘oh good-,’ she sniffs, ‘it smells like weed and sex in here, you’re fucking disgusting.’

‘thanks for reminding me,’ eddie leans over, retrieving the half-smoked spliff from last night and lighting the end.

steve’s eyes are firmly on yours, kinda sad and defeated. he had that same look on his face whenever you and eddie were together, which was often.

you’d sort of always had this.. thing with steve. encapsulated by his presence. there was always something unspoken between you and you were never sure if it was because he hated you or not. small glances and touches that seemed to linger just a bit too long.

you’d sorta taken his best friend from him at one point, coming between their friendship suddenly and with no warning.

steve was intrigued by you too. this mystical, unobtainable persona you presented to the world. something he couldn’t crack. just couldn’t quite understand it.

‘we’re getting breakfast, i was going to ask if you wanted to join but i assume that won’t be happening,’ she raises her eyebrows, noticing your severely hungover state.

they liked to party too, just clearly not as much as you and eddie. both of you had no understanding of when to call it a night, egging each other on til the point of no return.

‘i think we’ll give that a miss,’ eddie’s answers for the both of you. steve’s eyes immediately look down, suddenly interesting in the burn marks in eddie’s carpet.

you’d actually met steve first, on the first day of classes in freshmen year. you went over to a sheepish steve, who looked slightly scared, and obviously lost. offering him the directions to his room.

he’d smiled back, introducing himself to you on the way. appreciative of your kindness. you probably wouldn’t have helped if he didn’t look like that, but still, it was nice.

that’s when eddie had bounded over, all hair and denim. loudly taking over your conversation, introducing himself with a smirk, hand already creeping onto your lower back. that’s when steve had nodded towards him and informed you of their already established friendship.

you weren’t really sure when it became you and eddie. well, it wasn’t. not officially. god, you didn’t want official. he was fun to fuck and even better to party with. maybe the fact he dealt had been a factor in solidifying your strange relationship. maybe not.

robin rolls her eyes, ‘right, well you boring fucks can rot in bed all day, suit yourselves,’ ushering steve out of the door, slamming it behind her.

you blink, hating this awful, guilty feeling steve always left in your stomach. you’d tear a guy like him to shreds, maybe it was for the best.

whatever self-wallowing, steve-centric thoughts you had are interrupted when eddie’s arm snakes around your back, pulling you onto him.

‘i still need a little assistance here,’ he grins from beneath you, running his hand down your back, firmly grasping your exposed ass as you clamber on top properly.

you try your damn hardest to push the reflecting image of steve from your mind. though it doesn’t quite work until eddie’s calloused palm softly taps against your cheek, ‘anyone in there?’

you frown, returning the playful slap as you grind mindlessly against him, his fingers digging into the pliant skin of your ass.

‘you can do that again.’

eddie hadn’t shut up about his birthday for weeks. you’d all planned to go to the same bar you went to most weekends, except this time everyone had to go and he got to be centre of attention.

he’d been pissing you off all night. obviously far too drunk, jaw clenching from the copious amounts of shit he’d sniffed. hanging from your shoulder, speaking over you and splashing beer down your top as he slurred through his words.

‘i think we’re gonna head home,’ steve speaks up when you exit the bar, eddie already looking for the next place.

‘whaat? you’re fucking boring,’ he pokes a finger into steve’s chest, far too intoxicated, ‘you’re staying out, right?’ he looks over to jonathan, argyle and nancy who also shared an apartment not far from yours.

‘nah man.. it’s late, it’s been fun though,’ jonathan shrugs as nancy finds a taxi to take them home.

‘fuuuck you guys are really ditching me on my birthday? at least you won’t let me down,’ his arm hooks around your shoulder, yanking you into him.

you pull back, which wasn’t particularly hard in his state, ‘get off of me.. can i get a ride with you?’ looking over at steve, his hands cautiously poking out of his pockets.

he nods sheepishly as eddie practically erupts, ‘it’s my fucking birthday, and you fucking losers are going home?’ he’s screeching, throwing his arms around, making a royal scene in the middle of the street.

robin finds a cab willing to take the group of you home, calling you over to the yellow vehicle, ‘eddie let’s just go home, it’s late,’ attempting to coax him into going with you. you’d deal with his shit in the privacy of his bedroom.

he laughs, turning away from you and walking up the dimly lit street, ‘you.. you can get fucked,’ he slurs, disappearing into a nearby bar.

steve stands at the cab door, watching as you frown at eddie’s back. internally deciding whether to give in and follow him or to leave like you’d originally planned.

you let out an exasperated sigh, ‘he can go fuck himself,’ you spit as you slide into the back of the cab. steve follows, shutting the door behind him, flashing you a small cautious look as the cab pulls off.

you collapse onto the sofa the second you set foot in the apartment. completely at your wits end with eddie and his the way he spoke to you.

‘i’m going to bed,’ robin announces, slinking into her own room, leaving steve to awkwardly linger in the living room.

you didn’t want to worry about eddie. he was a grown man who could definitely handle his own. besides, why should you when he’d explicitly told you to fuck off?

steve clears his throat before taking the empty seat beside you, ‘he didn’t mean it.. it’s just drunk talking,’ he nods, attempting to reassure you.

it wasn’t as if you were really upset about it all. more so annoyed that you’d let him treat you that way. continually. over and over again.

whatever the fuck was going on between the two of you had started to wear thin. there were only so many times you could put up with his shit before it got tired.

eddie could be a horrible drunk. it wasn’t often but when that version of him came out you’d prefer to be far far from it. he was cruel with his words, venomous as they rolled off his tongue. then you’d get into a screaming match and then either end up hate-fucking or you’d just both never bring it up again.

‘no, he did,’ you sigh, kicking the shoes from your feet with a thud, ‘i don’t care.. really.’

‘right,’ he nods, not totally believing you, ‘y’wanna smoke?’

a small smile creeps onto your face as he reaches for the small black box eddie kept on the table, pulling out a small baggie of weed, something eddie definitely wouldn’t miss. he didn’t even need your reply, beginning to roll up.

perhaps you’d smoked a little too much, sputtering on the final toke of your second or third spliff before handing it back to steve. he sits on the other side, an awful lot closer than he’d been originally.

it was quiet, but comfortable. not awkward at all.

‘y’know..’ he speaks up, looking over at you, ‘actually.. nah,’ changing his mind almost immediately.

‘no.. what? what were you gonna say?’ you furrow your brows, vision hazy, the room full of grey smoke.

he sort of chuckles to himself, stubbing the end of the joint out in the glass ashtray before looking at you again, ‘it’s stupid,’ he warns.

‘even better.. tell me,’ you nod, encouraging him to go on.

he pauses for a moment, a tiny smile on his pink lips, ‘i always thought.. well, that you and me were gonna end up together, i thought you liked me for the longest time,’ shaking his head as he looks down.

your heart thuds. a mixture of your high and the unidentifiable emotion coursing through your veins. there was no questions to being with eddie. it was simple, sex and parties. no complicated feelings involved.

but within a second, steve had completely changed everything. a feeling you’d suppressed since your situationship with eddie had started. completely convinced that the odd relationship you had with steve was just because you were banging his best friend.

‘i didn’t.. i didn’t know you felt like that..’ you manage to get out quietly, watching as he slowly stands up, he doesn’t look at you once. too ashamed, embarrassed that he’d just admitted everything to you so easily.

‘well, now you know,’ he says quietly before disappearing into his room.

you linger on the couch for a moment. unsure of what to think of anything he’d just said. whether you should knock on his door and tell him you’d felt the same or just go off to your own room and wait for eddie to crawl in.

it wasn’t as if you felt nothing at all for eddie. you did, of course. but you didn’t love him. not the way you maybe should’ve. not the way you felt about steve, his gentle nature and soft caramel tinted eyes.

you stand from the couch, feet taking control as you walk to his door. a small slither of orange light peaking from underneath. raising your fist to knock but stopping, arguing with yourself. this couldn’t be a good idea.

before you can even convince yourself to knock, the door opens. steve stands on the other side, his own chest heaving as your eyes meet.

‘i-,’ he croaks, but you cut him off with your lips, pulling back just as quickly as you’d moved forwards.

you stare at him for a few moments, swallowing all the courage you’d just worked up.

‘..now you know,’ giving him a meek smile before walking back to your room. you lean back against the door, heart beating a million miles an hour.

a repetitive banging sound forces you awake in the morning. hissing as the sounds of an extremely dramatic moan get louder. high-pitched and obviously put on.

it takes a moment for you to realise just where the noise is coming from. eddie’s room backs onto yours. the headboard colliding with the wall at an alarming pace.

you stumble out of bed, throwing on an old dirty sweater and groggily making your way into the living room.

steve sits slumped over the table, looking particularly miserable this morning. despite what had happened last night. you wondered if he’d told robin who sat scowling at the door. steam practically coming out of her ears.

her eyes widen as you appear in the doorway, rubbing the residual sleep from your eyes, eyes flitting between your frame and the wooden door.

‘well shit, i was about to cuss you out,’ she remarks, astonished that you were stood in front of her.

steve’s whole face brightens when he realises you’re stood in front of him and not in the room making those god-awful, oscar worthy noises.

‘if that’s not you.. who the fuck is in there?’ robin gasps, now utterly bemused by the entire situation.

you shrug, choosing the seat opposite steve, making brief eye contact and flashing him a small smile. would he bring up last night? or was it never to be spoken about again?

relief is written all over his face. obviously under the impression that you’d made up with eddie at some point in the night. not once checking that you were in your room.

‘jesus christ i’m gonna kill him,’ robin fumes, sipping on a mug of coffee. her eyes are narrowed, attempting to set the room ablaze with her mind.

‘it won’t last long,’ you add, reaching over to steal a slice of steve’s buttered toast. he lets you, obviously. letting out a soft snort at your joke.

‘nothing is that good,’ robin shakes her head.

the noises quieten, a shrill giggle coming from the hallway as a scantily clad blonde appears in the doorway, closely followed by eddie, sporting a pair of boxers that hid absolutely nothing.

‘that way,’ he groans, guiding the smiling woman away towards the bathroom. his eyes momentarily meeting yours, total venom behind his glare.

robin jumps up, splashing coffee over the floor, ‘don’t you dare think about fucking in my bathroom,’ she warns, chasing after the odd couple.

you can hear an altercation as presumably eddie slams the bathroom door on robin, her fists pounding against the wood, hollering about her new bath mat.

steve glances at you, searching your face for any type of reaction. he doesn't find anything, instead you smile softly as robin re-enters the room, cursing at the bastard freak. she grabs her bag, slinging it onto her shoulder before stomping over to the door.

'i'm going out, let me know when he's done with his weird exhibitionist routine,' slamming the door as she exits, the poorly built walls shaking as she does.

there's a faint sound of running water, obviously coming from the bathroom, closely followed by a series of questionable grunts and groans. you choose to try and block it out, though engaging in conversation with steve at this very moment seemed almost too awkward.

'did you tell robin?' you pipe up, playing with your fingernails as you just about meet his gaze.

'uh.. yeah,' he grimaces slightly, 'i-i just thought.. well i thought that was you this morning, i was.. confused,' apologetic for his blunder.

you nod, 'i don't care.. i just wanna prepare for the inevitable grilling i'm gonna get,' chuckling in an attempt to ease the tension. it works as his lips curl into a small, playing with the discarded crusts on his plate.

the god-awful noises from the bathroom worsen and your eyes are pulled from steve, looking towards the cause. perhaps this was eddie's way of making you jealous. revenge for choosing to go home and not put up with his drunken assholery.

you’re sat tracing patterns into the velvet fabric of the sofa, practically shaking as you wait for steve to get back from campus.

he was your friend for fuck sake. why was this so nerve wracking? ask him to hang out, if he says no then so be it. you’ll deal with the awkwardness of your shared kiss alongside eddie’s misguided anger.

he’s later than you’d expected. becoming far too engrossed in the random soap opera on the tv when he does eventually get back. almost forgetting about what you’d got yourself so worked up over.

‘hey,’ waving his fingers as he comes in.

christ, he almost seemed more nervous than you were.

‘hey,’ not wanting to jump down his throat the second he walked in the door, turning the tv off and running your palms down the sofa.

‘spoken to eddie?’ he asks curiously, slinging his bag from his shoulder and slumping down next to you on the couch.

‘nah.. he went out this morning and hasn’t been back,’ you shrug, wishing that he wouldn’t have just bought that prick up.

he nods, looking down at his jeans, finding a loose thread to play with.

‘would yo-,’

‘d’ya wanna-,’

you both start at the same time, stopping to let him continue except he’d done the same thing. sitting in the silence for a brief moment.

you chuckle nervously, ‘sorry, what were you saying?’

‘i was just gonna ask if you wanted to.. maybe do something tonight? if- if you’re not busy,’ shrugging it off, trying his hardest to play it cool.

‘oh,’ laughing softly, the pair of you were like nervy teenagers, comical, ‘i was gonna ask you the same thing.. yeah i’d love to.’

steve grins, transported back to freshman year of high school, trying to find the gall to ask tammy thompson to the fucking movies. it all seemed so childish, innocent, the way you melted around each other.

‘okay.. i’ll get changed, give me five,’ he nods, leaping from the sofa and speeding off to his room.

you bite down onto your bottom lip, trying to contain your smile. kicking yourself for the adolescent excitement it gave you.

the bar was packed for a wednesday night, steve shouldering his way through the crowd with you following closely behind. not brave enough to cling onto his hand, wrapping your fingers around his forearm instead.

‘jesus christ,’ he exclaims when he finds a spot just about big enough for you both to stand. you were close. closer than you’d ever been. at least in public.

you hold onto the glass bottle he’d passed you from the bar, ‘d’ya wanna go somewhere else?’

‘what?’ he shouts, the music too loud to hear you properly.

you lean in closer, lips brushing against his ear, the feeling makes your heart pound, ‘you wanna go somewhere else?’

placing his hand on your arm so he could shout back, the mixture of his cologne and beer filling your nose. it was intoxicating, making your head giddy.

‘i’m good if you are,’ wisps of his hair sweeping against your cheek.

you nod, beaming up at him as you take a swig of the harsh beer. the crowd seemingly disappearing from around you as his eyes focus on you, his own smile overcoming his face.

okay, perhaps you’d had a little too much to drink. but a little dutch confidence never hurt anyone.

you’re definitely not complaining when you grab his hand on the way out of the bar, quickly intertwining your fingers as he weaves his way to the door. still as packed as when you’d got there.

you giggle as he trips over the step coming into the bar, sending you flying into his back as he regains his balance.

his hand is quick to steady you, resting on your waist. the street light illuminating the gleam of his eyes, slightly glossy from the multiple beers he’d sunk inside.

a drunk student roars past you, snapping you out of the moment, steve’s hand still lingering on your waist. something that would’ve never happened if he were sober.

‘shall we go home?’ you ask, not breaking from his gaze.

he nods, moving his hand to offer it out for you to grab. leading you over to an empty cab, leaning through the front window to talk to the driver.

the drive home is heavy with tension. sitting in silence as steve makes polite conversation with the driver, fingers still wrapped around yours. heart thumping as you near your street.

the apartment dark and silent when you get in, the only light coming from the old fairy lights robin had hung around the room. there’s no hesitation, your hands grabbing his cheeks, smashing your lips to his the second the front door closes.

it takes a moment for him to realise what was happening, hands quickly finding solace on the small of your back when it clicks properly. it’s greedy and desperate, tongue sliding into his mouth, wanting to touch every inch of him.

hands sliding down his chest, grabbing at the fabric, his leg slotting between yours, guiding you backwards. straight into the coffee table with a bang.

you spring apart, eyeing eddie’s room cautiously, saying a silent prayer and hoping he didn’t come out.

steve’s eager to resume, eyes hungry as they flit between eddie’s door and your face.

you pull back completely, taking your lip between your teeth and hooking your finger around his pinky, leading the way to his bedroom. it was the furthest away from eddie’s and made the most sense.

he shuts the door gently, flicking the small bedside lamp on, illuminating the obvious tent in his jeans. your mouth falling open at the sight of it, rubbing your thighs together to try and satiate the growing throbbing.

you’re quick to resume the kiss, moving on him swiftly, connecting your lips in a passionate kiss. he collapses backwards onto the bed, your body falling on top of his chest, hands caressing his cheeks.

the next moment you find yourself underneath steve, pressed into the mattress as he holds himself above you. eager hands finding the short hem of your skirt and sliding underneath on the soft skin of your thighs. you had never seen him move with such confidence before, normally a little shy in the way he carried himself.

his finger hooks into the waistband of your lacy panties, tugging them down to your thighs. his growing erection digging into your core with every movement. moaning into his mouth when his finger begins circling your sensitive clit. this had definitely killed any and all assumptions that he was a virgin.

it’s as if he had been waiting for this very moment for his entire life, sliding his fingers between your folds and into your already soaking hole, your mouth falling from his as your head rolls back onto the pillow.

‘oh my god,’ a breathy moan escaping from your lips as his fingers pump in and out, his other hand causing a dip in the pillow next to your head.

his fingers slip out of you and begin to unbuckle his belt, barely getting them down and around his legs before his cock springs up. bigger than you ever could’ve imagined, mouth hung open as your peer down between your bodies.

your shirt is pulled off over your head so quickly you weren’t sure if you had blinked, landing on the floor alongside his with a soft thunk.

you draw your eyes back up to meet his once more, ‘you’re sure?’ he reaffirms, pupils dilated, wetting his lips with his pink tongue.

‘so sure,’ nodding encouragingly underneath him, readjusting your legs to loosely wrap around his torso. you’d never been more sure of anything in your life.

he returns the nod, positioning himself at your sopping entrance and without breaking eye contact he slides in with a sharp intake of breath. you can’t contain the whimper that collects in your throat, the stretch of his cock taking you by surprise. the sting felt good, like he was always supposed to be there between your legs.

he’s still, waiting for your encouragement to move. you give it in the form of a squeeze on the back of his neck, clinging on to the skin as his hips move slowly. low, hungry grunts roll from his lips, the bed frame creaking in time with his thrusts.

‘fuck,’ you breathe out, taking your bottom lip between your teeth acutely aware that eddie was only a few doors away and could definitely hear the happenings in the room. even if you could manage to stifle yourself, the undeniable sounds of skin against skin would expose you.

‘is that- is that good?’ steve mumbles, moving slow but hitting deep, nudging against your soft spot, already hurtling you towards your orgasm.

‘jesus christ.. yes, yes,’ beginning to buck your hips back against him, feeling the familiar knot in your stomach. finger nails leaving crescent moon shapes in his skin as tears prick in your eyes.

steve groans as his heavy balls slap against the back of your thighs, pushing himself fully inside, ‘i’m not.. hmph.. not gonna last long,’ arm beginning to buckle with the weight of him.

you clench around him as your high topples over at his words, burying your face into the pillow next to you. unable to withhold the high pitched wail from leaving your mouth, barely managing to muffle the sound.

his rhythm falters, hips slamming into yours for the last few desperate pumps before he pulls himself out. thick ropes of cum spurting out and onto his hand. and the bed. and your thigh. crying out as his chest heaves above you.

‘holy shit,’ his arm gives way and he ends up next to you on the mattress, panting for air as he reaches for a dirty shirt on the floor, using the first thing he could find to clean off his hand.

you turn your head to face him, a lazy smile on your face as he offers the shirt out to you, mouthing a small sorry.

he throws it to the other side of the room, running a hand over his damp face, ‘i uh.. i last way longer normally,’ bashful and doubting his performance. it was only because it was you.

‘steve,’ you smile, grabbing his blanket to pull over your body, ‘don’t do that,’ seeing the shy boy from once before, you much preferred the steve from earlier.. confident and sure of himself.

‘yeah.. sorry,’ his lips curling into a soft smile, turning his body towards yours, arm snaking out to pull you closer, clammy palm resting on the small of your back.

you giggle quietly in response, settling in to your new position, sharing the blanket with him.

your eyes don’t leave each other’s as he begins to babble about something from the bar, clinging onto your skin as if you were somehow going to slip away.

you hadn’t even realised that you’d fallen asleep in steve’s room.

so when eddie comes in unannounced in the early morning, you thank your lucky stars that you’re facing the wall with steve’s body hiding yours. shoving your face into the pillow to hide yourself, hair sprawled around you, helping your case.

‘yo.. bro,’ he whispers, stepping into the room and over a pile of clothes, ‘good night?’ he cocks his eyebrow at steve as he turns around, glaring at the interruption.

‘uh.. yeah yeah,’ steve panics, realising what eddie had walked into and the chaos that’d ensue if he figured it out, his arm tightens around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

‘sounded like it,’ eddie chuckles, shaking his boot to rid it of the discarded shirt on the floor, ‘look, have you got ten bucks? i can give it back tomorrow,’ he bargains, smiling at steve.

‘yeah.. yeah, my wallet’s on the desk,’ steve nods towards the desk, adjusting himself to make sure he was covering you when eddie stomps over to the desk.

ten dollars was a worthy sacrifice to not have to deal with eddie’s temper tantrum in the morning. it wasn’t like he’d never find out. just not now.

‘thanks bro.. i’ll get it back to you tomorrow, hey,’ eddie rubs his stubbly face, ‘d’you know if dickhead’s in? i knocked but, uh.. no answer,’ quite obviously referring to you.

you have to resist the urge to sit up and cuss him out.

‘uhh.. no, no idea sorry,’ steve shakes his head apologetically, lying through his teeth.

‘alright well, have fun,’ wiggling his eyebrows as he exits, closing the door softly.

you exhale when the door clicks shut, though you stay in the same position, not entirely convinced he’s not stood outside the door listening.

‘don’t speak,’ you mouth to steve, who looks wearily at you until the front door closes and you fully turn to face him.

‘jesus christ,’ you breathe, ‘he doesn’t knock?’

‘usually he does.. i bet he wanted to see who was in here,’ his arm twitches, unsure of whether to keep clinging on to your waist or to remove it.

‘i mean,’ you shrug, ‘he’ll found out eventually, right?’ it was inevitable, especially as you were living together.

‘i s’pose.. you don’t care?’ taken aback by your nonchalance towards the situation.

‘not really.. i just don’t think he needs to know, not yet,’ you croak, he had literally just banged another chick practically right in front of you. any guilt you may have felt about the situation had disappeared.

‘yeah,’ he gives you a tired smile, nuzzling his head into the pillow, all soft and sweet.

‘i dunno about you but i’m going back to sleep, until at least lunch,’ your hand running along the curve of his bicep, mere inches away from each other.

he hums in response, his lingering arm pulling your waist closer, eyes drooping as sleep takes over.

you’re awoken again by the slam of the front door, robin leaving for work. letting steve know that everyone in the apartment could hear your late night activities.

steve grumbles, complaining about her heavy-handedness. you leer over at the alarm clock, wanting to get out of steve’s room before eddie gets back from work, making sure there were no possible chances of awkward questions this afternoon.

‘shit,’ you hiss, climbing over his still half-asleep body and grabbing whatever t-shirt you could find, pulling it on over your head, ‘eddie’s back in like five.. i’m gonna get out of here now, saves the aggro..,’ slipping into your discarded underwear.

‘right.. good idea,’ he mumbles, one arm folded underneath his pillow as he comes to fully.

you sprint out of there and into the kitchen, pouring a bowl of cereal when eddie strolls through the door, whistling some tune to himself. he glances at you before taking a seat at the cluttered dining table.

you don’t say a word, discarding your plan to sit at the table and instead tucking in to your cereal on the counter, pretending to read some flyer.

‘where were you last night?’ he asks, leaning back on the chair to get a full view of you, ‘i knocked on your door but..’ narrowing his eyes.

‘i was probably fuckin’ asleep,’ shoving another spoonful of cereal into your mouth, making brief eye contact with the man.

he squints, trying to figure out why that shirt was so fucking familiar. was it his? were you wearing his shirt in some weird goading way?

steve emerges from his room, shirtless and running a hand from his messy hair. eddie’s eyes flit between the shirt and steve. cogs slowly turning in his brain.

no. no the shirt wasn’t his.

it was the fucking shirt he’d kicked off of his foot when he’d stormed into steve’s room this morning. same boring design printed on the front.

on you.

from steve’s floor.

the night after steve had, very loudly, had a female friend over.

you’re oblivious, focussing on your bowl of soggy cornflakes as steve clatters around behind you. making his own bowl. neither of you looking at each other, making everything ten times more obvious.

‘you’re fuckin’ joking,’ he loudly proclaims, standing from the table, nearly sending the chair flying backwards.

your head shoots up, confused by what he had seemingly angered himself over now, ‘what?’ eyebrows knitted together as he storms over, mouth hung open in disbelief.

‘you fucked him?’ jabbing his finger at steve, ‘my best friend?’ arms flying around in anger.

you look to steve for some help, eddie positively fuming, his jaw clenched at your lack of an answer. in fact, your reaction, or lack thereof, had only solidified everything.

‘no,’ you eventually croak, ‘i- we-, that wasn’t me,’ stuttering for some excuse, though you know he didn’t buy a word of it.

eddie’s face twists up in a mix of anger and hurt, eyes glossing over as his lips tremble, ‘eddie-,’ steve begins, cut off as eddie storms out of the tiny kitchen, grabbing his wallet from the table and pausing when he opens the front door.

‘you deserve each other,’ he snarls before disappearing, shaking the walls with his violent slam of the door.

you stare at steve in silent disbelief, dropping the spoon into your discarded bowl. you’d predicted his reaction to go something along the lines of that, just not expecting it so soon. hoping to have prepared a solid speech in the meantime.

‘shit.’

‘it’s okay.. h-he was gonna find out eventually.. he’ll calm down,’ steve tries to soothe you, well aware that eddie held onto his anger, let it simmered until it all bubbled over and some poor soul got the brunt of months of rage.

you want to feel bad, feel guilty but when steve’s hand sits on top of yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze, it vanishes. his chestnut eyes providing a sense of comfort you’d never felt before.

you were used to eddie being out. missing in action for days on end. but by the fourth day of him not coming back to the apartment, the pit in your stomach starts to worsen.

the guilt had caught up to you, as if you were the one who had shoved him out of the door. you had, in a metaphorical sense.

the first few days were, nice. though you felt worse for even feeling that. but, you’d been hanging out with steve more. it was different to before, getting to know his personal quirks, the things that made him tick. something you would’ve brushed off before.

you were friends, sure. you hadn’t really had the opportunity to get to know him like this before. it would’ve felt like some sort of betrayal to eddie. even though in some ways the way it had come about now was much worse.

on the fifth day, you’re sat on the couch with steve. picking the hangnail from your finger, wincing as it started to bleed.

‘d’you think he might’ve gone home?’ you ask, looking up at steve who was spaced out next to you.

they were from the same small town, had started out sharing classes in high school and had since been friends. admittedly growing apart when you’d come into the picture. you’d heard stories from the others about how close they used to be, never apart, according to jonathan.

‘i dunno.. he hates hawkins,’ steve shrugs, seeing the worry spread across your face, ‘but i could call his uncle? see if he’s there?’

you nod, thumb in your mouth trying to pull off more of the sore skin. he gets up to grab his phone, already dialling the number when he comes back into the room.

‘hey! wayne.. it’s steve- yeah yeah, i’m good man.. i was just wondering if eddie was there? oh no, uh- well.. we haven’t heard from him in a few days, y’know what he’s like… sure, thanks man,’ clicking the button and ending the call.

he looks over at you, a pitying look on his face as he shakes his head no.

‘i’m sure he’s alright.. he’s dramatic, you know that,’ he collapses onto the couch, this time closer than before, nudging your elbow with a weak smile.

you were well versed with eddie’s dramatic personality. having dealt with his temper tantrums and storm outs for years now. though, it had never seemed this bad before.

realistically, you knew he was probably crashing on a friend’s sofa. overstaying his welcome and partying too much. he was likely coming down from some insane party as you sat thinking about him.

‘i just.. feel bad,’ you whisper, leaning into steve’s side. his arm reaches around to your shoulder, rubbing softly against your arm.

‘i know..i do too,’ he admits, you and eddie hadn’t been a romantic thing. not even really a thing, if you were being honest. it was sex and partying, getting completely trashed and using each other in an attempt to fill the void inside of you both.

but steve and eddie had been friends for years now. they’d argued over the stupidest shit but never something like a girl. steve had had to genuinely weigh up whether his friendship with eddie was worth losing.

if eddie couldn’t get over it, would steve be able to repress his feelings for you? or would he be fine with losing eddie if it meant that you were together?

when robin gets back from work, she narrows her eyes at the two of you curled up against each other, ‘is this gonna be a regular thing?’

‘would you have a problem with it if it was?’ you ask, watching as she dumps her back and slumps on the empty seat.

‘oh no, i’m just thinking about how much peace and quiet i’ll get if you and eddie aren’t screaming at each other every day,’ kicking her doc martens from her feet and leaning into the cushions.

‘if he comes back,’ you remind her.

she hadn’t really seemed too fazed when he’d stormed out. thankful for no more early morning wake up calls from his wooden bed frame. but you can tell that even she was beginning to feel at least a tiny bit worried.

‘he still not called?’

you shake your head, ‘no one’s seen him, he’s not home.. i guess we’ve just gotta wait til he’s calmed down,’ shrugging, more so trying to convince yourself rather than her.

no matter what, eddie had a special place in your heart. even if it wasn’t love in the romantic sense, there was too much there to disregard that. he was your best friend at one point, how could you?

it’s another five days of fretting and concern before you hear a word from him. your phone rings in the middle of the night and you sit up, feeling along the nightstand for the buzzing plastic. an unrecognised number.

‘hello?’ you speak into the receiver.

steve stirs, waking up at the sound of your voice. admittedly, you’d been sleeping in his bed. sharing kisses and late-night chats about just about everything. it all felt very quick, but just right. like now that’d you’d both realised that you could have this, that anything other than this felt wrong.

‘hi,’ eddie’s voice rings out, recognisable even through the phone.

‘eddie? you’re okay? where are you?’ you babble, steve sits up at the mention of his name.

‘i’m uh- with my dad, i just, listen.. i need you to bring me some shit.. we’re going away and i’ve got nothing with me,’ his voice crackles and you can hear him shift around in the payphone box.

‘what? you’re going where? where are you?’ baffled, unsure if you were still asleep and not understanding him.

‘away, i’m staying in porter.. look, can you do it?’

‘eddie that’s-,’ but you stop yourself, ‘yeah, sure.. when?’

‘tomorrow, i just need some clothes, my watch and my savings.. they’re under my mattress.. tiny box, you’ll see it,’ he rushes, running out of minutes.

‘o-okay, where shall i meet you? i don’t know it well,’ you garble, nodding at steve when he mouths a confused porters?

‘little bar called sam’s.. i’ll be in there, i’ve gotta go, this thing’s running out,’ he sighs, muttering a small, ‘thank you,’ before the line goes dead.

‘he’s at the fucking beach.. wants me to drop some shit for him.. he said he’s with his dad? i-i thought his dad left..?’

‘he did,’ steve looks puzzled, taking the phone from your clutch and looking at the withheld number, trying to figure out if he could call it back, ‘he left years ago..’

eddie’s smile falters when he notices that you’d bought steve and robin along. steve dropping your hand the second his eyes meet eddie’s.

‘what the fuck are you doing here?’ the chair scraping the wooden floor as he stands abruptly.

the man you can only assume is his dad looks over, gripping onto the beer bottle, eyes flitting between his son and your trio.

‘eddie.. i asked them to, we wanted to know if you were okay,’ your voice shakes, frowning when he scowls at you. you’ve pissed him off, again.

‘i called you because i trusted you, not him,’ he spits, walking over to where you were stood by the door, ‘where’s my shit?’

‘it’s in the car,’ quickly coming up with a lie, trying to keep him talking for as long as possible, ‘i need to talk to you.. before you.. leave,’ you pout, trying to get him away from his dad.

‘about?’ he hits back harshly, still upset that you’d even dared to bring steve along.

‘about.. everything,’ you exhale shakily, ‘give me five minutes, please.’

he looks back at his dad who checks his watch before shrugging. he couldn’t give a less of a shit as long he got this promised money.

‘fine,’ he says through gritted teeth, storming past a gormless steve and robin and exiting the restaurant.

you glance at steve before following him out, not sure how much longer you could convince him you’d bought everything he’d asked for.

he’s already lighting up a cigarette when you reach the street, perched against the windowsill in days-old clothes. he looked a mess. even worse than his usual gritty self. eye-bags and a sunken face to match.

you breathe out, how do you even start a conversation like this? sorry i fucked your best friend but i actually really like him was probably not the best way to go about it.

‘i’m sorry,’ seemed like the best place to start, ‘it wasn’t fair to you.. what i- we did.. i can’t tell you how shit it makes me feel.. to know that i hurt you.’

he blows the smoke out of his mouth, expressionless, ‘okay.’

is that it? after his great big performance that was all he could say?

‘what?’

‘i said, okay.. what d’you expect me to do? start crying and begging you to love me?’ scoffing as he takes a long draw of the cigarette. his eyes cold, merciless as he glares at you.

‘you ran away.. made everyone worried sick about you.. and all you can say is okay?’

he shrugs, ‘i’m over it.. you’re welcome to each other,’ stubbing the cigarette out on the brick wall, stepping closer to you.

your mouth opens and shuts, flabbergasted by his stinking attitude, ‘shout at me, scream.. fuck- hit me if you want to.. stop pretending like you don’t care.. because i know you eddie munson and i know you do.’

his eyes narrow, intimidating as he towers above, ‘i don’t give a shit, you’re only upset because you want me to.. that’s too bad,’ his adam’s apple bobs, a tell-tale sign that he was lying.

your eyes search his for anything. a glimmer of weakness.

but his eyes are stern, emotionless as his brows thread together.

the door to the bar creaks open and his dad stomps out, muttering to himself, ‘c’mon son, let’s get the fuck out of here,’ replacing eddie’s spot on the windowless ledge and lighting his own cigarette.

he doesn’t break eye contact, ‘i’m gonna take a leak and then i want my shit,’ jaw tense as he barges through the door.

you squeeze your eyes shut, biting onto your bottom lip before cricking your neck. that hadn’t gone exactly to plan. now what the fuck were you gonna do when he realised you hadn’t brought the one thing he’d asked for.

‘i know what women like you do,’ his dad speaks up, taking a long drag on the cigarette, ‘you don’t get to fuck up his life and then happily move on.’

eyes springing open when you realise he’s talking to you, ‘what the fuck did you just say?’

he laughs, a deep belly-laugh, ‘you heard.’

you’d love to smash the smug look from his dirty face. knock his head into the brick wall and drag eddie kicking and screaming back to steve’s cat whether he liked it or not.

‘women like me? the only person who cares enough to drive all the way out to this shithole to save your son? is that what you meant?’ stepping up towards him, as if you were even capable of doing anything.

‘you came to rub it in.. flaunting in with pretty boy there,’ his lips snarl, ‘pathetic really, shouldn’t have bothered.’

eddie comes back out, robin and steve trailing behind, trying to converse with him but being completely blanked, ‘where’s my shit then?’

‘uh.. steve’s car,’ beckoning to where you’d parked somewhere in the distance.

steve flashes you a worried look knowing damn well there was nothing eddie could want in his car. luckily eddie doesn’t pick up on it and instead starts walking in the direction you’d motioned, expecting you all to follow.

‘why’re you in such a hurry?’ you call out from behind, trying desperately to bide time. he was certain to flip his shit the second you reached the car and he figured you’d lied to him.

‘because i want to get the fuck out of here,’ he snaps back, charging on ahead.

you walk in silence to steve’s car, nervously glancing over at steve as eddie and his disgusting pig of a father walk on ahead. steve reaches over and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze though it doesn’t really do much.

eddie’s spots the car first, striding over and peering into the windows, ‘where’s my shit then?’ turning to glare at you with a disgusted look on his face.

your mouth opens and closes, no viable excuse coming to mind, ‘eddie.. i didn’t bring anything-,’ swallowing as you gain some slight confidence, ‘i’m not letting you go with him.’

his dad completely flips, turning to his son, ‘you’re fucking useless, you know that? how the fuck d’you manage to mess this one up?’ practically foaming at the mouth.

‘dad i told her! this isn’t my fault.. we can still go.. i’ll find the cash somewhere,’ his eyes pleading with the estranged man, he had shrunk back into a scared little boy right before your eyes.

his father shoves him away, snarling at his son, ‘you think i actually want to go anywhere with you? my colossal fuck up of a son? you’re dreaming,’ positively fuming.

‘but.. dad,’ he’s almost begging now, regressing back to the night he watched his father walk out on his mom, feeling the heartache all over again.

steve steps up, getting closer to the pair, ‘you should go,’ placing his hand on the man’s arm.

he jerks his arm from steve’s grip, scoffing at you all, ‘don’t bother trying to find me again.. i don’t wanna know,’ poking his sausage finger into eddie’s chest before pulling himself away and trundling off back to the bar you’d met in.

your eyes immediately turn to eddie who was watching the man leave for the second time, tears pricking in his eyes. your chest pangs with hurt, you’d never meant for it to happen like this.

eddie speeds off in the opposite direction and you have to pull on steve’s arm to stop him from going after the boy, ‘he’ll come.. just.. give him a few minutes,’ nodding reassuringly.

steve sighs before turning to face you, ‘okay, you should go anyway.’

‘yeah.’

deciding that it had probably been enough time, you follow eddie’s path and eventually find him perched on a crumbling stoke wall, aggressively wiping his cheeks when he spots you walking over.

you sit in the empty spot next to him, staring down at the grey concrete. not wanting to break the silence and potentially piss him off more.

‘fuck,’ eddie finally breathes, sniffing and wiping his nose on his filthy sleeve. he clearly hadn’t showered in days and you wonder what on earth they could’ve possibly been doing.

‘i’m sorry,’ you croak. you weren’t just sorry for not allowing him to run off with that wretched man but for the fact that you and steve had quite obviously betrayed him.

you hear him swallow and then a rustling from his pocket. looking up to find him with a cigarette hanging onto his lip. he offers the box out to you, as he usually would.

delicately taking one from the pack and placing it in your mouth, waiting patiently for the lighter.

you sit smoking your cigarettes in the calming silence for a few minutes. gazing out at the horizon, the sky awash with all sorts of moody greys. fitting.

‘are you coming home?’ you ask quietly, standing from the wall with your hands shoved in your pockets.

eddie exhales, his eyes closing briefly before he stands, ‘yeah.. yeah let’s go,’ admitting defeat as he lets go of his dad forever, ready to put an end to his reckless escapade.

robin and steve are leaning against his car when you walk back. there had been a silent agreement to not mention it. just get in the car and go.

you sat in the back with eddie, watching as he stares out of the window, pressing his forehead against the cold glass. you move over into the middle seat, resting your head against his shoulder.

things would be alright.

things had been actually sorta alright. eddie had seemingly come to terms with you and steve becoming a thing. at least, if he hadn’t, he’d been keeping it to himself.

you tried to keep things respectable of course, jumping apart when he’d enter the room or going off to your own room and creeping into steve’s when eddie had gone to bed. but he wasn’t stupid. and you knew he wasn’t stupid. it just seemed better than rubbing it in his face.

things were completely different with steve and you’d felt a sense of pressure that hadn’t been present with eddie. steve was soft and kind but you couldn’t be so laidback about everything with him.

when you’d disappear at parties to split a bag with someone, he’d want to know. or when you were upset and stressed out, he’d want to know why, how he could help.

which was fair enough, obviously. it was just different. before, eddie would offer some generic advice and a spliff and be done with it. now, you were expected to actually address your issues head-on, not just bury them with sex and drink.

finals week had been harsh on all of you. the apartment in disarray as you were all working overtime to save your grade and not get kicked out of college.

you’d, perhaps a bit unfairly, taken your stress out on steve. arguing with him about menial shit that you didn’t really care about, just finding any excuse to shout and push him away.

he’d sit there and take it, offering sensible solutions and trying to resolve whatever bullshit you’d made up that day. a stark difference to eddie who would’ve screamed straight back at you.

come friday night, you’d all finished exams, sitting around the table when eddie swanned in, flapping some flyer for a party, going on about how you should all go.

‘we’re finished, free,’ he argued, pleading his case to the three of you.

robin flat-out refused, said she needed to sleep for a solid week and then she’d be ready to party. steve umm’d and ahh’d, settling on staying in but he was down to go out tomorrow.

‘i’ll go,’ you speak up, eyeing eddie from across the table, you hadn’t hung out alone yet. this would be a new feat.

‘alright,’ he shrugs, looking at steve for his permission or straight up denial of you two going alone.

steve just nods, ‘alright, call me if you need anything,’ glancing at you with an assured smile.

he wasn’t worried. not really. you’d shown him plenty of times that you loved him even despite your incessant attempts to push him away. even in the bad arguments, he’d kept his cool and waited for you to come to him, keeping everything on your terms.

you’re nervous though. you and eddie partying together had never been a good idea, egging each other on, getting utterly trashed just because he’d dare you to.

not tonight. you swore to yourself before leaving. pressing a tender kiss on steve’s lips, leaving traces of your sticky lipgloss behind.

eddie’s pov

it’s a little after midnight when steve gets a phone call from eddie, asking him to come and pick you up. still waking up as he walks across campus, passing countless drunk students as he finds the thumping party.

you’re incoherent on the couch, steve’s eyebrows raising expectedly as he walks into the room. eddie stood to the side watching as your arms instinctively wrap around steve’s neck. even in your drunken stupor you went straight to steve.

it fucking stings.

he looks on worriedly as steve hoists you from the couch, ‘hey man.. uh, she said some pretty weird things tonight, i dunno.. i don’t think she’s okay,’ recalling your earlier slurred words.

you hadn’t meant to, but you’d spilled everything to eddie. a tequila fuelled rant about how steve was so perfect and how bad you felt that you just weren’t. how you didn’t know how to stop pushing him away, even when you didn’t want to.

steve nods, it wasn’t like he didn’t already know you were on this self-destructive warpath. he just wasn’t sure how to tell you that you didn’t need to do this without sounding like a dick.

your arms lazily flop around his neck, laying your head against his chest as he carried you bridal style through the party and right across campus back to your apartment. eddie trailing behind in silence.

‘thanks.. for calling me,’ steve smiles as he nudges his bedroom door open just as eddie was about to disappear into his own room.

‘course,’ he nods, melancholy as he watches your fingers curl around steve’s jacket, pulling him down onto the bed with you, babbling a chorus of steve’s and love you’s as his door closes.

cursing himself for never being that soft with you. never providing that level of safety.

he lies awake for hours, staring at the ceiling. at some point he hears you tumble out of steve’s room, rushing to the bathroom and subsequently throwing up into the toilet. debating whether to hop out of his own bed and help.

but then the padding of steve’s feet make their way through the hallway, his soft voice helping you brush your teeth and get cleaned up. eddie’s assistance was unnecessary. damn, he wouldn’t have a clue what to even do.

on the occasions that you’d thrown up in the morning, eddie would’ve led in bed and laughed. called you a pussy and waited for you to crawl back to bed in a mood. he wasn’t gentle like steve. that shit came as a second nature to him but to eddie? not a touch of it.

he even hears the soft kiss he gives you on the way back to his room, your appreciative little murmur and the click of his door shutting again.

and he wants to kick himself. scream and cry and throw a tantrum because in an ideal world, that would’ve been him.

but he can’t blame you, no matter how much he tried. it’s his fault he’s such a colossal fuck up. not yours. not steve’s. his.

he eventually gives up and moves to the couch, not getting much luck at sleeping in his bed. the suns rising when he hears snippets of your hushed conversation.

it didn’t sound angry. or even upset. just barely audible speaking’s about your feelings.

‘i know.. i don’t mean to,’ he can hear, a twinge of sadness in your tone.

‘you don’t need to.. not with me,’ steve mumbles and the blankets rustle, snapping him out of his trance.

he can hear small i love you’s and the sound of lips smacking. but then your muffled breathy moans start and the bile rises in his throat. undeniably he knew what was going on in there, everything being confirmed by the rhythmic creaking of the mattress.

and he knows what you look like. he can see it. feel it. hell, he lived for it at one point

pushes himself from the sofa and straight out of the door. not wanting to hear a second more.

you don’t feel as bad as expected in the morning, rough but not as bad as you should be feeling.

robin’s now ready to celebrate, steve agreeing and you almost want to hurl at the mention of going out. eddie sits in silence at the end of the table, he’d been pretty strange this morning and you’d wondered if you said something to upset him last night.

you could vaguely recall the self-pitying spiel you’d forced him to listen to. physically cringing at the fact you’d started crying and wailing about steve to him.

robin suggests having some people over, just a small thing with close friends. maybe if everyone was up for it you could all go out afterwards. that you could agree to.

she rounds the troops, calling the friend you all shared. who all agreed to get there at eight. something small and casual she repeats down the phone.

there’s a few tag-alongs, people you’d met briefly at parties or friends of friends who had been dragged along. so it wasn’t the small gathering you’d pictured with just the gang. but it was okay.

the speaker being turned to max and the living room full of people. everyone in high spirits because finals had finished and were relatively confident that they’d at least scraped a pass.

you edge through the crowd, waking over to steve who was splayed out on the couch, spliff hanging from his fingers. he grins when he sees you, opening his arms.

‘hey pretty girl,’ beckoning for you to climb onto his lap, arms snug around your waist as he passes the spliff to you, still giggling at his pet name.

eddie glowers from behind the couch, huffing before pushing himself up and storming into the kitchen. he hadn’t realised how much he’d already drank, liquor coursing through his veins.

‘watch it,’ someone exclaims when eddie barges into their arm, subsequently spilling his beer onto the boys shirt.

eddie sees red. turning to the boy and snarling as he shoves his chest, sending him to the floor.

‘what the fuck did you say?’ grabbing the boy by the collar before smashing his fist into the side of the poor boys face.

steve hears the commotion, leering over the sofa to see what the fuck was even going on. he shoves you off of his lap, running to go and grab eddie from on top of this boy.

you finally see what everyone had crowded around, watching as eddie’s fist pummels into his now bloody face. only easing when steve grabs onto his arms, gasping for breath as he’s thrown back into reality. realisation setting in about what he’d just down.

people rush to the unconscious boy, somebody screaming to call an ambulance. the music cuts out harshly, silence echoing around the room as you stare at eddie, wide-eyed. terrified.

you’d never seen him like this. so brutal, covered in someone else’s blood. his chest falls and rises, staring back at you with an equally as horrified expression. steve is saying something to him but it’s not registering. a ringing in his ears as the world crashed and burned around him.

the police turn up alongside the ambulance crew. taking statements from whoever hadn’t left and eventually cuffing eddie. muttering about crazy fucking kids and quite forcefully pulling him from the apartment.

his eyes lingering on yours as he’s guided out. steve’s arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest, resting his chin on the top of your head. you’re still in disbelief, tears welling in your eyes as you remember how unforgiving and downright cruel he’d been.

‘you wanna go to bed?’ steve asks, chest vibrating with his low voice. fingers combing through your hair, in your own corner of the living room as robin and nancy attempt to clean the floor.

jonathan and argyle are picking up tiny shards of glass, not an ounce of conversation between them. all still reeling from eddie’s outburst. you were sure he was going to jail, there wasn’t any way he could possibly wriggle out of this one.

‘we should-,’ the words getting caught in your throat, ‘we need to help clean,’ pulling back to look at the state of the room, discarded cups and splatters of alcohol on the walls.

‘we’re nearly done.. you should go to bed,’ robin nods, wringing the cloth out into the sink.

even they had come to the conclusion that this was something to do with you. you and steve in particular. the way eddie’s eyes had locked onto you the second steve had pulled him off of the boy.

you knew it. he’d been frosty and unusual with you all morning. with everyone in fact.

eddie emerges from his room for the first time in days. looking worse for wear and feeling just as shit. the tag on his ankle restricting him from leaving the apartment freely.

he peers down at the blinking red light, mentally cursing the plastic as he drags his feet along the carpet. he can hear you and steve chatting quietly, not really able to make out what was being said.

not expecting you both to be sprawled out on the couch, your leg draped over his waist as your delicate fingers combed through his hair. the last few days had been so bleak, that he couldn’t really find it in himself to hate that you were sharing these moments with steve.

he sighs loudly, hoping to let you know he’d entered the room. not wanted to be involuntarily including in whatever may have happened next.

you sit up slightly, gazing at him stood behind the kitchen counter, ‘hey,’ it’s quiet, but he hears it. almost deciding to ignore until he remembers how much you’d doted on him and helped him recently.

‘hi,’ but he doesn’t look back, staring into the empty fridge, waiting for something to materialise. but it doesn’t.

‘when’s your court date?’

the words sear in his ear, an unwelcome subject.

‘next tuesday,’ deciding upon a swig of milk straight from the carton, not exactly the five-course meal he was hoping for.

‘okay well, we were.. we’re gonna come, y’know.. for support,’ your eyes are unrelenting, following him around the kitchen.

‘don’t bother, i’m pleading innocent,’ completely monotonous in his response.

he’d already argued with the state provided lawyer about this. a shoddy man who could not care less whether eddie went down or not, just wanting to cash his cheque at the end of it all.

the balding man had called him stupid, ‘there are multiple witnesses.. plead guilty and they’ll probably pity you n’ slap you with some community service or summit.. don’t be stupid son.’

you scoff, using steve’s chest as leverage as you sit up properly, ‘you’re joking? right?’

his eyes finally meet yours, thumping his fists on the marble counter, ‘i am innocent,’ no one could understand where he was coming from, not even the man who was being paid to at least pretend to care and understand.

‘you beat the shit out of him, eddie.. you broke his fucking jaw,’ your eyes are wide, looking at him like he’s an idiot- which he was, but not about this.

‘i was provoked, self defence,’ he says in all serious. he was frustrated, lashed out but at the end of it all, the guy had bashed him first.

‘wh- because he accidentally knocked into you? you really must be fucking stupid.. what are you thinking?’

eddie notices steve, or what he could see of him, tense up, obviously not wanting to anger the violent monster eddie had become in so many people’s eyes.

‘it’s my choice.. i was fucking provoked, saw some stupid shit.. that’s not my fault,’ relinquishing the blame to you.

in his eyes, if he hadn’t seen the disgusting display of affection, he probably wouldn’t have fucked up that boy. but he had, and that wasn’t his fault. so how was he guilty?

‘you’re ridiculous.. i actually can’t believe you,’ your eyes full of disappointment.

the way your face falls, eyes narrowed and sharp as knives makes his heart twist. genuine hurt flashed on your face. almost paralleling the horrified expression you’d held as he was cuffed and dragged away.

‘it’s my decision, i wouldn’t expect you to know a thing about what it’s like to be me,’ kicking the fridge door closed with a loud thump.

you disappear from his sight, flopping back down onto steve’s chest with an exasperated sigh. he rolls his eyes before stomping off into his bedroom. his mood probably wouldn’t be so terrible if he could just leave this godforsaken apartment.

actually, why shouldn’t he? if you were so certain that he was going to jail anyway, what harm was there in going out? fuck it.

so he gets dressed, pulling his denim jacket on and spritzing himself with aftershave. he’d worry about the tag later, surely one of his buddies would have something to hack it off with. hopefully with minimal damage to his leg.

you don’t even look up from steve’s eyes when he comes back out, having had enough of his idiotic attitude for the day.

‘woah, where are you go-,’ steve starts before being cut off with the front door shutting, he was gone, without so much of a look back.

jogging down the stairs and out of this suffocating hellhole.

it doesn’t take long for the police to show up, banging their fists on the door and red in the face with anger.

they grilled you and steve for what felt like hours. making sure you hadn’t helped in his escape. tearing his room apart for some sort of clue to where he’d gone.

‘we found the tag at a location not far from here.. could anyone be hiding him? he’s in serious trouble.. we need anything you’ve got,’ the officer pleads, frustrated with having to deal with this bullshit on a thursday night. you don’t blame him.

you shake your head, ‘no.. i-i mean, there’s a few bars down on main but our friends aren’t stupid enough to help him.’

any previous feelings of worry had disappeared, replaced with frustration. you weren’t prepared to spend your whole life trying to find eddie every time he decided to run away. he so obviously didn’t give a shit about what you thought, it was a waste of energy at this point.

the officer sighs, ‘right, well you let us know if he gets in contact or comes back here,’ rummaging in his pocket for a small bit of card, ‘that’s my personal number.. call me straight away.’

you nod, thumbing the glossy card and flopping back onto the couch. steve shows them out, closing the door softly after they leave. he gives you a look, full of pity. he doesn’t say a thing but you know what he’s thinking.

‘i’m done,’ holding your hands up, ‘he can get himself out of this one.. i don’t care anymore,’ surrendering completely.

he nods, looking as just as tired as you felt. sometimes you forget that this isn’t just between you and eddie, steve is right in the middle of it all too, staying quiet and holding back for eddie’s sake.

you’d tried to be courteous and thoughtful with eddie. pulling away from steve when he’d enter the room, trying not to be so overly affectionate in front of him. you felt like maybe you owed him that for how you’d gone about it, but why?

not once had he ever shown interest in being with you romantically, he was the one that’d explicitly said that you and him were friends with some added benefits. screw him.

‘you hungry? i wanna get out of here,’ pushing yourself from the couch and throwing your arms around steve’s waist, cheek squished against his chest.

‘i could eat,’ returning the hug, swaying slightly as his hands roam around your back.

eddie’s pov

eddie checks his phone for the umpteenth time.

no new notifications

he was anticipating at least something from you by now. hell, even a pathetic hi would’ve sufficed. the man wasn’t dumb, choosing to hole himself up in gareth’s basement with a six-pack rather than hitting the main spots.

he questions whether the dinghy, dark basement was any better than the confines of the room he’d escaped. supposing that you and steve weren’t next door, anything would be better.

he debates just calling you first. curious to know why you hadn’t called. maybe after the next beer. or maybe now. fuck it, it’s already dialling.

it rings and rings, becoming increasingly concerned with your well-being.

‘what?’ your voice rings out after the fifth or sixth ring.

he’s taken aback, ‘hello to you too,’ taking another swig of beer, his knees pulled up to his chest.

‘what d’you want?’

christ. you really weren’t falling for it this time.

‘nothin’.. just expected to hear from you by now, that’s all.’

he can hear the eye roll through the phone, your tiny almost inaudible little tut, ‘i’m not saving you this time.’

‘i didn’t ask you to.’

‘so why’d you call then? i’m busy.’

‘you with steve?’ he doesn’t even know why he asked, of course you were.

‘yeah, i am.. is that what you wanted to hear? or were you hoping i was out searching for you with the police?’

ouch. you’d called him out. figured out his silly game and threw it straight back in his face.

‘i didn’t- you just had to rub it in, didn’t you?’ anger rising in his throat, ‘you always do.’

‘you think i’m doing this to make you jealous? this isn’t about you anymore.. you need to get over yourself,’ you sigh, empathetic about the harsh words that’d just spilled out, ‘i love him, eddie.. you’re gonna have to deal with that.’

and with that the phone clicks. you’d hung up. you had hung up on him, no grovelling or pleading for him to come back home. that was it. the harsh truth and now he had to just sit with it.

his head falls back against the cold brick, staring up at the damp covered ceiling, weighing up his options. he knew he’d fucked up. best case scenario, he’d get a couple extra months on his sentence. worst case, they’d throw the book at him for wasting their time.. not to mention the already hefty sentence for the assault.

you had completely and utterly exhausted yourself trying to support him and even you had had enough. he only had himself to blame for that. maybe jail would be a good thing? he could get his head straight.. get over you, maybe even find some purpose in his life.

he pulls another beer from the pack, cracking it open and taking a long swig. exhaling as the bitter liquid seeps down his throat. there was only one way out of this fucked situation and he knew that.

eddie perks up when he hears your key in the door, sat on the couch for what seemed like hours waiting for you both to get back.

your face drops the instant you see him, gripping onto steve’s hand as you walk into the dimly lit living room.

eddie stands, holding up his hands, ‘i’m gonna hand myself in.. i just-,’ he exhales deeply, ‘i wanted to say goodbye,’ jaw tense as he looms between you and steve.

‘you are? do you want me to call the sheriff? i- he gave me his number..’

‘no, no.. i’m gonna go down there.. it’s easier,’ eddie motions towards the door, shaking his head.

you stand dumbfounded for a second before nodding slowly, chewing on the inside of your cheek, ‘it’s the right thing to do..’ the lump in your throat growing as you look back at the pathetic man in front of you.

steve gives him a weak smile, patting his hand on your arm. there’s a brief moment of silence. the three of you all staring back at one another in awe of the fucked up mess you’d wound up in.

‘c’mere,’ steve motions to eddie, walking over to the boy with arms outstretched. he pulls him into a bear hug, clapping his palm on eddie’s back.

from the look on eddie’s face squished against steve’s shoulder you can tell he needed it, ‘i’ll miss you man..’ he breathes into his best friend’s sweater.

‘we’ll come and visit.. you’re not getting rid of me that easy,’ his laugh is shaky as he pulls away, smiling proudly at his friend.

you stand slightly behind steve, watching on with tears brimming in your eyes. even though steve had tried to reassure you, you couldn’t help but feel so guilty that this had ultimately all happened because of you.

eddie walks over slowly, throwing his arms around your body, gripping his fingers into your arms knowing that this may very well be the last time he ever got to hold you like this.

your arms cling around his waist, cheek pressed against his chest, ‘i’m proud of you..’ was all you managed to croak out, tears wetting his dirty t-shirt.

he sniffs, swallowing the lump in his throat, ‘thank you.. for everything,’ because truly, you were the only person to never give up on him, even if he had made it incredibly difficult for you.

you lift your head off of his chest, staring up at him with sodden cheeks, bottom lip quivering as you let go of him. both physically and emotionally.

he puffs his cheeks out, wiping his face with the back of his hand before clearing his throat and nodding at the pair of you, ‘you take care of her..’ eyebrow raised.

‘aye aye captain,’ steve gives him a tight lipped smile and a half-assed salute, watching as the man he had grown up with walked out of the apartment, head held high and a newfound spring in his step.

the end of the beginning.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve stranger things #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things x you #steve harrington fic #eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #steve harrington smut

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moneypowerglorymiddleofmiami · 26 days

Note

Reader as Persephone's only daughter? And she doesn't get into relationships bc of her mother's past as she was kidnapped by Hades?? Like History repeats itself with Luke being so obsessed with her and the reader doesn't know that she'll just end up like her mother

hello, hello! this one is definitely long overdue. i've been very busy with uni, but this ask was very intriguing!!! thank you for sending, anon ♡ (bonus scene at the end lol)

Luke Castellan wasn’t immediately taken by her the first time she set foot on Camp Half-Blood, that much was certain. She was only a topic of interest because she was Persephone’s daughter, promised yet unexpected all the same. He was far too caught up with claiming his own hoard of kleos to entertain ideas of attraction; however, she became a friend soon enough.

“What are you growing?” He asked her during a spring afternoon years ago, so insignificant that a normal person would forget it entirely.

“I don’t know yet actually.” She responded with pursed lips. Her open palms lingered just above the brown earth, colorful beads dangled from her wrists.

Luke raised an eyebrow.

At his silence, she looked up then waved a packet in front of him. She smiled. “Secret stash from Persephone.”

“Now, I’m not really the boss or anything but I think I’ve been here long enough to know the rules.” He perched his forearm against the bark of a tree, leaning his weight against it. “I don’t think that’s allowed.”

“But you wouldn’t tell on me, would you?” She batted her eyelashes sweetly, jokingly. She turned back to her lump of land. “‘Sides, they're harmless… I think.”

He remained silent and observed as a sprout quickly rose from the depths of her plot. A number of curved leaves on top leaning stems dotted the once empty ground. She rose from her knees, dusting off pellets of grass that hitched onto her clothing.

“That's it?” He asked her, sounding very unimpressed. Was this the extent of her god-gifted abilities?

She narrowed her eyes at him as she stretched. “I don’t give a show for free, Castellan.”

“What do you want in exchange, then?” He asked curiously. He wanted to see— witness what Persephone’s little seedling was capable of flowering.

She thought for a moment then shrugged her shoulders. She walked away from him with a wave. “Grow something of your own then we negotiate the terms.”

A few weeks later, he proudly paraded a plant pot all around camp in search of her. Most of the younger kids looked at him a bit judgmentally when he held it up like he was Rafiki and the little thing was his Simba.

She emerged from the greenhouse after several vexingly loud knocks. She looked down at Luke’s outstretched arms, her lips twitching in amusement at the container filled with inch-long two-leaved sprouts.

“Strawberries?” She pursed her lips. She motioned to the fields of berries sprawling to the left of them. “A bit unoriginal considering…”

“Well, you didn’t tell me I wasn’t allowed to grow strawberries.” He reasoned.

“Touché.” She ceded. She placed a hand over the pot, the sprouts growing exponentially before she took it from Luke's hands. She spent a handful of minutes transferring them into the dirt.

Luke watched silently, interested and intrigued by the alacrity with which she moved.

“Can you look away for a sec?” She spoke suddenly. She turned towards him, all seriousness. “The glaring is pressuring them. They’re a bit self-conscious.”

“Oh.” He looked away immediately, distracting himself instead with the silvers of light that shone through the canopy of branches of a tree not far from him. He listened to her hum as she worked. He couldn't help but return his gaze to her once in a while.

“Done!” She proclaimed excitedly, pulling off her gardening gloves with a satisfied look on her face.

Three strawberry bushes stood before him, taking up residence in what was an empty patch of land mere seconds ago. His lips parted slightly in surprise— it definitely wasn’t uncommon for demi-gods to inherit some of their parents’ powers, but he was startled by how quickly it manifested, especially for botanokinesis.

“Impressed enough?” She crossed her arms with a grin.

“Just the right amount.” He responded casually, returning her smile. He bent down to pick a big ripe berry from the branches.

He bit into it, the juices trickling down his chin. “Sweet.”

He offered the other half to her. She looked down at it skeptically before Luke urged her with a slight little shake from the bundle of leaves at the fruit’s head. She took it into her own hold then lifted it up to her mouth.

𓇢𓆸𓏲𓇬𑁍

In her iteration of the story, Luke wasn’t merely a stand-in for Hades. He wasn’t simply her captor— he was also her pomegranate. His smiles, his looks, his words, his lies, his charm and his wit were all the seeds she foolishly consumed over the years. She yearned desperately for the tart sweetness he offered and unknowingly caused her own captivity.

Bound, bent and broken: this was the fate of Persephone’s only child.

In the darkness of the night, with the hum of Luke’s faint snoring keeping her senses alive despite the late hour, she wondered to herself briefly: was this how her mother felt?

She paused at the thought. Surely, it was a thousand times worse for her mother— a dread and pain so unfathomable that she couldn’t even begin to imagine it. Persephone was innocent; she was tricked and taken advantage of. She, however, was complicit: ignorant at first, but willing to succumb to Luke’s pleas and promises even if she knew the horrors of what he was attempting to do.

“Can’t sleep?” He whispered suddenly, jolting her out of her reverie. His hand moved to rest against her hip, his thumb stroking comforting circles onto her skin.

“Hm,” She hummed absent-mindedly. She turned around to face him, breathing in the scent of sea and sweat that lingered on him— a glaring reminder of what he was getting himself into.

Luke caged his arms around her then pressed a kiss against her temple. "Mine."

"Yours." She responded softly.

He returned to sleep in a matter of seconds, but he held her firmly against him. She couldn’t escape even if she wanted to. She didn’t even want to, anyway.

She closed her eyes. Luke’s presence was her prison, and she was insane enough to willingly stay shackled, albeit metaphorically, regardless of how horrific that sounded.

This was her underworld— her own dauntingly lovely elysium.

BONUS scene from my first draft that i didn't continue writing:

“Well, what’s her master plan then?” She asked. “Why kidnap me?”

“You’re Persephone’s daughter.” He shrugged his shoulders, as if that was enough explanation as to why the leader of a rebellion against the gods wanted to kidnap the spawn of the Goddess of Spring— really, what did he think she was gonna do for him? Grow daffodils and tulips to distract his enemies? It didn’t seem like horticulture proved useful on the battlefield.

“I am not going to grow potatoes and peas for her little revolt, Castellan.” She scoffed.

Of course she knew why she was being held captive. Pretending to be foolish and ignorant never hurt anybody, though. Let him think she was dumbed down enough to bend to his will.

“You’re basically Hades’ daughter.” He continued, essentially bypassing her reply. It was a bit rude, honestly, but the fact that he kidnapped her showed plenty about the state of Luke’s manners.

“Careful what you say, Lukey.” She would’ve wagged her fingers if her wrists weren’t so tightly bound together. “You might just insult another one of the gods.”

Her relationship with her stepfather was… civil yet glacial at best; definitely on brand for him, actually. On her annual winter-break visits to the Underworld, he’d just ignore her for the most part (very understandable, there wasn’t much in common between an eons-old powerful god and a nineteen year old, except the angst probably, but that was a very awkward topic to breach with a father figure). Most of the time, she assumed he just tolerated her because of her mother.

“With you on board, Hades is going to think twice before attacking,” He explained further. He began to pace in front of her. “Your presence might even dissuade him from attacking at all.”

Oh. Oh.

“Sweetheart,” She called him softly with a condescending coo in her tone. “Oh, sweetie. You’re delusional.”

#luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #pjo tv show #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo

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p1utofairy · 7 months

Text

PAC: “i get so weak in the knees, i can hardly speak. i lose all control and something takes over me…” 💌⏳🦢🍸

• how does your crush currently feel about you?

disclaimer ✩: 18+ mature themes. here's something to kick off fall 🍂 take what resonates, leave what doesn’t. enjoy!

pile 1 📩 —

heyyy pile 1! let's jump right into your reading 🤗 i'm already hearing that you think about your crush A LOT like you can't get them off your mind even if you tried and they feel the exact same way. you two mirror each other so if you feel intensely about them, they're also feeling intensely about you even if they don't convey that outwardly (i.e. their facial expressions/body language) i feel like they’re not used to having a huge crush on someone, it usually just kinda…happens for them??? like they don't usually have to put a lot of work in to make someone fall for them (bc i'm visually seeing that they're pretty damn attractive) but that's not gonna cut it with you — they just can't get by on their looks. you're big on taking your time to get to know someone and building up that level of trust and respect. you carry yourself very well pile 1 and that's really what made them do a double take when they first saw you. you're 1 of 1 — they've never seen anyone like you before. i'm hearing that some of you may look exotic or people tell you that you resemble a specific celebrity a lot? idk but just know you get the blood rushing through their veins lol they can't help but feel excited when they're around you, yet they barely know you which is the crazy part. they feel like they know you but they don't…and that's what so intriguing to them. stranger by jhené aiko is coming to mind, “i know ya face, i know ya name but i don't know you? isn't that crazy? isn't that crazy?” you may judge them at first and already think the worst like “oh i bet they’re a player!” but don’t jump to conclusions! give it a chance. they may actually surprise you and treat you like royalty, cause i feel a lot of adoration coming from their end…even though they know little to nothing about you. i want you around by snoh aalegra is playing in my head, “it's somethin' 'bout the way you stare into my eyes. i know that i don't make things clear. i fall for you every time i try to resist you.” they’re gonna fall hard for you pile 1. they’re definitely going to want to get serious and make this official which will shock you both, because of how fast things will just come together naturally. AHHH I LOVE IT.

other channeled messages:

whoa by snoh aalegra, kiss me thru the phone by soulja boy ft. sammie, tattoos, glasses, scorpio placements/scorpio moon, wifey, bright smile, almond shaped eyes, petite figure, girl of my dreams, kissin’ on my tattoos by august alsina, u are my high by dj snake & future, prominent air sign placements

pile 2 ⚖️ —

hiiiii pile 2 💓 right away i’m hearing that your crush feels like you’re unattainable? you might be really popular or a naturally social person that everyone clings to, and they find this a bit intimidating. they don’t know how to approach you – they've been trying to figure out how to get your attention but little do they know that they already have it. y'all might have a dynamic like summer and seth from ‘the O.C.’ and/or stiles and lydia from ‘teen wolf’ aw when they find out you like them back it'll most likely catch them off guard like “who?! ME?!” lol they’re so cute. you’re very dreamy to them, they'll damn near start drooling when you’re in close proximity to them…i’m also hearing that they love the way you dress. you show just enough to let their imagination wander lol idk if they wanted me to say that cause i can see their cheeks getting red and them getting all flustered 🤣 let me just say that they respect you so much! they’ll feel so lucky to finally get to know you on a personal level because they’ve been inquiring about you for awhile now. you’ll be everything that they dreamed of plus more & vice versa. there’s definitely a best friend dynamic at the root of this connection, you both will be able to be yourselves unapologetically when you're together. i feel sooo much warmth and comfort. idk why belly and jeremiah from ‘the summer i turned pretty’ just popped up in my head lol but yeah they will love holding you gently and staring into your eyes longingly 😩 SO ADORBS.

other channeled messages:

the cool girl & the gamer boy, no idea by don toliver, just talk to her dude, victor from corpse bride, timothée chalamet, bilingual, hit different by sza ft. ty dolla $ign, my forever boy, good days by sza, skateboarding

pile 3 ⚓️ —

pile 333 💫 what's up!!! i channeled a song for y'all already, come over by aaliyah is coming in strongly. “i know you're asleep but you're on my mind and i'm wide awake and i wanna stop by.” ooo there’s a very sensual vibe between you and your crush, a lot of sexual attraction and tension i'm picking up. you two would make a great looking couple — a lot of people will be looking at you two when you're interacting with each other. it's like “can those two get a room already and just fuck” LMAOOO some will be hating but others will just be admiring like damn i wish i had that. i feel like your crush makes you act really shy lol you try to muster up the courage to look them in the eye and be bold but you fold every time lol i’m hearing them say “don’t be shy baby” 😩 your crush knows what they're doingggggg omg they just love to tease you. a couple that's coming to mind is joey and pacey from ‘dawson's creek’ you may not have paid them much mind initially but one day something clicked and you were like damn…i really like them. it might take a little minute for y'all to officially get together but once you two do…WHEW. i told y'all the sexual tension is through the roof — i’m hearing this is that 90’s r&b type of love. a lot of slow burn and building up to the real thing. they think so much about what it'll be like to finally be able to hold you, kiss you and treat you properly. you evoke a lot of inspiration, motivation and passion in them pile 3 <3

other channeled messages:

halfcrazy by musiq soulchild, take a picture it'll last longer, lavender haze by taylor swift, muse by partynexydoor, capricorn placements/capricorn venus, you're like my own personal brand of heroin - edward cullen (lol)

#pac #pick a card #pick a pile #pick a card reading #love pac #intuitive reading #pac reading #love reading #energy reading #tarot reading #tarot #tarot pac #pac tarot #p1utofairy

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whalesforhands · 6 months

Note

Did you u know twins can have different biological fathers?

The specific ask about, if reader was gonna have bio kids got me thinking, what if twins but different fathers?

And then fact checked, and apparently it's very rare, but possible!!!

my theory on this matter is that you have to make love, instead of a quick nut for something like this to happen.

Sorry for ranting, it's 4 in the morning in my side of the world, and all i can think is about Satosugu, ahhhh i need sleep!!!!

GAHAHAH THAT’S SO CUTE

masterlist

gojo satoru & geto suguru getting more kids, and the fact that they’re having another set of twins has the nanamimi duo absolutely losing it, jumping around and squealing

the girls are absolutely defending you fiercely during the time you’re starting to show, shooing off gojo for even breathing too hard near you, gripping onto geto’s shirt and stretching the fabric whilst trying to drag him off of you when he goes in for a hug, holding your hands to walk you to the bedroom, running to tsumiki when you mention a small food craving and trying to figure out how to make it via the internet when their fathers aren’t home yet, because “we’re older and can totally help out!”

megumi is the most intrigued, never having had a sibling younger than him before. so he’s the one putting his head against your tummy the most to really listen to the lives growing inside you, looking up at you with wide eyes every time he hears a kick

since he and the twins are the same age, it’s often wondered if they were triplets everytime the family ate out.

(nanamimi have crowned him an honorary triplet. tsumiki approves. gives more of a reason for him to join them on their tea parties.)

satosugu refuse to let you out the house. initially it was already super hard to leave in the first place for the most menial of chores like getting more lightbulbs or more milk without their chaperoning. now it’s close to impossible even if you just want to get ice cream at the convenience store with tsumiki.

no. don’t go outside. there’s bad air, germs on every surface, curses at every lurking corner. please sit down, look pretty, give them a kiss and what you’re craving will be in your hands in an instant.

you look gorgeous pregnant. period.

now imagine when they pop out of you, only for them to look like actual carbon copies of their fathers, much to everyone’s shock. like, i’m not even kidding.

maybe there’s a small hint of your features in the curve of the nose, the shape of the earlobes… but overall the twins look exactly like their paternal counterparts, down to the exact same personalities and little traits

and that means their clinginess to you. the men already have it bad enough that the 4 kids are constantly hanging around and off of you, following you around the home like hatchlings to a mother duck, now the two extra little copycats are taking every bit of your spare, leftover attention meant for them

crying in the middle of the night and not settling down when either of the men are the ones hushing and cradling them, smacking their chins whenever they try to bottlefeed, crying even more if it’s not your face being the first one they see in the morning…

why are you so adorably popular?

they don’t regret having kids with you, but they do realise how fortunate they were to be able to skip the infant stage with the first 4

KOFI twins extra

masterlist

#dyf au #jjk x reader #satosugu x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader

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art · 2 years

Photo

Creator Spotlight: @velinxi

Hello! I’m Xiao Tong Kong, better known as “Velinxi.” I’m the creator of the webcomic Countdown to Countdown and have been doing freelance artwork since I was a teenager. I love telling stories with my illustrations! Tumblr was where I first got my start as an artist, specifically a small fandom artist as a hobby… and now I’m somehow here! When I’m not trying my best to stay awake in front of my tablets, I’m usually cooking, gaming, or sleeping. Sometimes all three, in my dreams.

Check out our interview with Velinxi below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

Yeah! I’ve basically been on track to become an artist since I was a child. I went to a middle school with an emphasis on arts and a high school specializing in it. I went to SVA briefly for computer arts but dropped out to pursue freelance and webcomics after my first year.

Over the years as an artist, what or who were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?

My biggest inspirations growing up were Yuumei and Shilin Huang, two titans on DeviantArt back in the day. They still inspire me today, but the list of inspirations has grown exponentially over the years, including artists, movies, entire art movements, etc.

What was your thought process behind the creation of your webcomic, Countdown to Countdown?

Well, Countdown to Countdown started as a passion project back when I was 15, in high school, and pretty depressed. I just wanted to draw whatever story I thought was cool, inspired by my favorite media at the time. There was a very loose beginning and outline, but I was truly just writing as I drew the story. That’s why I had to stop the comic in 2018 and restart from scratch the year after. Now, the story has a set story and a clear outline. It still has similar roots, characters, and themes of neglect, abuse, and escape—but I think the story is a lot easier to follow now. It’s got an artstyle I can actually keep up with in the long run. The origin of why CTC exists also remains the same: I simply wanted to make a story I wanted to read for myself. Which happens to be about two dumb boys with superpowers navigating a hostile world that wants them dead or caged—together.

Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?

Oh, all the time. It’s part of the process. Personally, though—I just have to draw through it. Every month on my Patreon, I have my patrons vote on a theme I have to draw by the end of the month, and I try my best to make it as interesting as possible. I draw quite a few—tens even, of doodles or compositions for each of these themes to try to make something that tells a story while still being aesthetically pleasing and clear. I think pushing myself like this helps with art block, really. I also do remember to take breaks and simply consume other media I like! It gets the inspiration juices flowing.

Advice you would give to an aspiring creator?

If you do one—your first webcomic should be a short, fun, messy thing. It’s not often you can get it right the first time, but you’ll certainly learn a lot through sheer experience. This goes for a lot of things in art, to be honest.

What is a medium that you have always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?

3D Animation. I briefly learned it at SVA, and I think that’s enough of that tech for me. I accept that there are some things that are truly beautiful if done right, and I am too simple and lazy for it.

What is your goal for the rest of this year?

Get Countdown to Countdown book 2 finished! And live HAHA

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@yuumei-art on Tumblr, still! They’ve been a huge inspiration for digital artists and storytellers online for years. I have no doubt that many digital artists of my generation have been influenced by them, and they’re still here, making beautiful art and stories. It’s a thing to behold.

Thanks for stopping by, Velinxi! If you haven’t seen her Meet the Artist piece, be sure to check it out here. You can also follow her for more amazing art over at her Tumblr, @velinxi!

#creator spotlight #artists on tumblr #velinxi #xiao tong kong #countdown to countdown

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papercorgiworld · 3 months

Text

If you had known, would you’ve come?

Tom convinces his brother to help him get a date with a girl that actually doesn’t like him one bit, but Tom has it all figured out, except for maybe the falling in love part. Leave it to a Riddle to underestimate love. + brother dynamic Mattheo/Tom

Last cameo is Daisy ( @musingsofahufflepuff ). This sweet Hufflepuff is Mattheo’s girlfriend and Mattheo convinces her to help him set you up with his brother.

Tom II Riddle won the poll thingy I did a few days ago, so here it is, my first Tom II Riddle x reader. I loved writing Tom and Mattheo as brothers. I don’t know a lot about the popular opinion on Tom II, so I kinda just went with a general Tom vibe. Tomorrow I’ll start working on the requests so expect the first one to pop up one of these days. But for now, happy readings!

I added part 2

“Hey, little brother.” Tom appears next to Mattheo, startling the younger Riddle. After a second Mattheo regains his composure. “So, am I in trouble or you?” Mattheo asks, making Tom smile. “You, it’s always you.” Mattheo rolls his eyes. “You’re failing potions.” How does he know everything? “Yeah, I missed a few essays. Nothing, I can’t fix.” Tom raises his eyebrows. Sure, you can, you little overconfident bimbo. “Well, I’ve been so kind as to write essays for you that can get your grade up.” Mattheo stops walking and turns to face his brother. “Kind? Funny. What’s the catch?” Tom stares dryly at his younger brother, annoyed with his witty attitude, but nevertheless grabs a bundle of papers out of his bag. “I’ll even give you my notes and summaries.” Mattheo nods as he curiously eyes his brother. “Ask your redhead girlfriend to set me up with (y/n), they’re friends, so it shouldn’t be a problem.” Mattheo tilts his head like he didn’t just hear his brother ask for a date with (y/n). “Why not ask her yourself?” Tom looks at Mattheo with dull eyes, like he just asked the most ridiculous question possible. “Cause she hates me.” Mattheo opens his mouth, but Tom interrupts him. “No more questions. Do you want these or not?” He waves the papers in front of Mattheo. Mattheo’s tongue pokes his cheek as he stares at his stoic brother with dark eyes, considering his options.

***

”How’s the most beautiful girl at Hogwarts doing?” Mattheo slings his arm around Daisy and kisses her cheek, making her smile. “You skipped class.” She says with judgy eyes. Mattheo licks his lips and stares her down with playful eyes. “Because I was busy dreaming about you.” Daisy rolls her eyes and pushes him away. “Very funny.” Mattheo follows her and whispers with a cheeky smile. “It’s true though.” A soft giggle escapes her and he smiles genuinely happy to have her, but then his face turns serious. “I hate this, but I need a favor.” Daisy frowns. They had been dating for almost a year and never had he asked for a favor, so she was immediately intrigued. “My brother wants a date with (y/n).” Daisy starts laughing out loud, before realizing Mattheo was serious. “No.” She says sternly.

“Hey, hey, what happened to all that hufflepuff kindness?” Mattheo argues as he pulls her closer. “You brother’s not the kind of guy who I want to set up with my friends.” Mattheo’s shoulders drop. “Why?” The hufflepuff averts her eyes, not liking what she’s about to say. “Cause he’s scary?” Mattheo’s lips form a line. “Right.” He lowers his head. “But you gave me a chance.” Mattheo’s eyes are innocent and Daisy purses her lips, thinking back to how Mattheo ruined every date she went on before admitting he liked her and actually asking her out. “Yeah I did, but I also knew there was a soft side to you.”

“My brother has a soft side, I’m sure, somewhere.” Mattheo frowns, seriously wondering for a moment if his brother had a soft side. “Look, he needs someone in his life, unless you want him to be the weird uncle that tells our kids that life is meaningless, downs a bottle of wine and murders people, not necessarily in that order, I honestly don’t know with my brother. The thing is he deserves a date, a chance.” Mattheo sighs, struggling to defend his brother. “Our kids?” Daisy questions with shiny eyes, loving the idea that Mattheo thinks about having kids. Mattheo feels himself get flustered and shakes his head. “Not the point of this conversation.” Daisy nods knowing that her boyfriend is right. “He deserves a date.” Mattheo smiles. “(y/n). Tonight. 7pm sharp at the wooden bridge. He has something planned.” Daisy frowns and sighs. “(Y/n) hates him. She’ll never agree to go out with him.” Mattheo nods. “Just tell her it’s a blind date.”

***

You were a bit nervous as you walked down the long wooden bridge, but mostly excited. You hadn’t been on a date in a while so when Daisy proposed to organize a blind date with a handsome and intelligent guy, who was one year older and wiser, you were easily convinced. Though, considering she was dating Mattheo Riddle you probably should’ve known her taste in men was worrying, not to say alarming. However, you fully trusted the sweet hufflepuff and chose to wear your most fancy dress, ready to impress. As you neared the end of the bridge you started to worry that you might even be overdressed. The wind blew through your perfectly done hair as you scanned your surroundings. “Seven sharp.” You whisper to yourself and check your watch, before looking around and softly chewing your lip. It’s then that you notice a small glimmer, only a few steps away. When you take the last step of the bridge your feet don’t land in the grass, because suddenly you’re in a room.

You twirl around admiring the beautiful decor. Someone conjured an entire room? A soft sound of admiration leaves your lips and you hear a soft chuckle. “I knew you would like this.” Your blissful face falls when you meet the man with the gentle voice. “Tom?” He walks towards you. “Shall I take your jacket?” He offers a hand and you stare at it. “No, I- I have- uhm a date.” You stutter and he pulls his hand back, watching as your eyes search for the way you came in. Your back is turned towards him when you realize there are no doors. “I’m aware you have a date. Since I’m your date.” Tom says dryly and you quickly turn around. “That can’t be. Daisy would never set me up with-” You fall silent when you look around the room and spot a perfectly decorated diner table, when you meet Tom’s eyes you see something you’ve never seen in his eyes, vulnerability.

“You didn’t know I was your date, did you?” Tom asks and you feel your heart sink. No of course not, no one I know would willingly go on a date with you. Tom doesn’t need an answer, he already knows and averts his eyes. “If you had known, would’ve come?” His voice is serious and yet filled with so much emotion. However, as soon as the question is out there he decides he doesn’t want the answer to that question either and reaches for his wand. “I’ll conjure a door for you.” Immediately you take a step towards him, making him lower his wand. “I honestly don’t know.” He examines your every expression as your eyes dart around in search of words. “Maybe I would’ve come, maybe not. I don’t know.” You chuckle and take another step towards him. “I wouldn’t have believed it. I mean you and I on a date, that’s ridiculous, who would come up with that.” You let out a short laugh. “I did, it was my idea.” Your eyes shoot up to meet his and you frown. “Why? We hate each other.”

Tom smiles and puts his wand away. He seems more relaxed and licks his lips. “You might hate me, but I definitely don’t hate you.” The surprise and confusion on your face makes Tom chuckle. “We have our differences, but I admire you.” You shake your head. “No, no, you’re Tom Riddle, you treat everyone like they’re less than you. You don’t organize sweet dates with.. uhm.. scented candles, and.. my favorite flowers and .. my favorite snacks-” You feel yourself get flustered as you notice every small detail is for you. “I treat everyone like they’re less than me, because they are.” You roll your eyes, but he ignores it and continues. “Except for you, your determination and consideration makes me believe you might be my equal.” There’s genuine admiration in his voice and you’ve never felt so recognised by anyone before.

You open your mouth to say something, but can’t find any words and just purse your lips, while staring around the room. “Can I have your jacket now?” He asks and after a moment of silence you turn your back towards him and let it slide down your shoulders for him to take. You take a few steps to the dinner table, before turning around to face Tom again who’s carefully scanning you down. When his eyes land on yours you tilt your head judging him for his staring and making him chuckle. “You caught me off guard. I’m used to you being beautiful, but tonight the English language fails to have a word that honors you.” Your lips part and your cheeks heat up. “Normal guys go for something like you look good or hot.” Tom nods and walks to one of the chairs at the table, moving it for you to sit. “And you wonder why I think they’re less than me.” You take a seat and shake your head at his words, but don’t argue with him.

Your eyes scan the table and you can’t believe how perfect it is. A small paper unfolds itself and announces the upcoming dishes and your eyes move to Tom. “A normal date would have sufficed.” You smile at him but he’s not pleased with your words. “I’m sorry if anyone ever made you feel like anything less than this should be enough for you.” You laugh nervously and lean over the table. “Are we on a date or are you courting me?” You whisper with a slightly amused smile, until you see his reaction. “Well, I’m an ambitious man, but I know where I stand so I’ll be patient.” At first you’re baffled by his honesty, but then you smirk. “There’s something about you Riddle men and having a serious amount of confidence, you’re different, but in heart you’re very much the same.”

Tom rolls his eyes. “I rather not be compared to him.” You laugh and he smiles as his heart warms seeing you happy. You notice the warm glint in his eyes and just know that tonight will be lovely.

***

“You know I have muggle friends.” You blur out as you’re both walking the wooden bridge in the direction of the castle. “I’m aware.” He says dryly, but still relaxed and sweet. You need to know his honest opinion, if you truly want to let yourself fall in love with him. “No one’s perfect.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, something you’ve rarely seen him do and you look away, feeling the disappointment squeeze your heart. “You despise me for it.” He says and you look up at him. “Yes.” He stops and so do you, there’s a soft silence as he looks at the water and you just look at him. “I believe I can convince you that my view of mudbloods is the right one.” His voice is stern, but not mean. It takes a moment, but to his surprise a smile tugs on your lips and you close the distance between you two. “I think I can turn your whole world upside down.” You whisper, while he stares you down and feels himself heat up at your closeness. “Cute, but-” You don’t let him continue and snake an arm around his neck, before leaning in and kissing him tenderly. When you break the kiss your eyes lock with his and you can feel his heart race. His arm wraps around your waist and he pulls you closer. Tom’s tongue moves around in his mouth as he’s obviously overthinking something. “Maybe.” He eventually admits, but it’s the smile that now creeps up your lips and your shiny eyes that make him seriously worry about how truly madly in love he is with you.

***

“How was the date?” Mattheo asks from his usual spot on the couch and Tom scans the empty common room. “You seriously stayed up to ask me how my date went?” Mattheo shrugs. “Well-” Tom starts, but immediately stops himself from talking about it. “I’m not telling you. We rarely talk and that’s not going to change. It was one date. It means nothing. I’m still the same person I was before this date.” Mattheo raises his eyebrows and tries to hide his amusement. “Sure.” Tom groans at his brother’s annoying attitude and turns around heading for his room. “Whipped.” Mattheo whispers, just loud enough for his brother to wonder if he actually heard that right, but he chooses to ignore his younger sibling and enters his room.

Word count: 2082

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#slytherin #slytherin boys #tom riddle #tom II riddle #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #papercorgiworldwritings

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