#that fucking breakdown was disgusting in the best way
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Jesus fucking Christ they went HEAVY heavy for this
#music#my faves#spiritbox#cellar door#that fucking breakdown was disgusting in the best way#a competitor for top spiritbox for sure#Spotify
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i need help
summary: Rafe has a breakdown and he finally asks for help
word count: 1.4k
warnings: angsty and fluffy?, crying, mentions of drugs and alcohol, ward is the worst father (this is ward’s hate space btw💋)
a/n: I just want to baby him. so yeah, soft/clingy Rafe again because apparently, I can’t write anything else right now🙂
You were sitting on Rafe’s bed, patiently listening to his firm footsteps on the staircase. The room was dimly lit only by a lamp from the nightstand and you fought back an urge to fall on your back and fall asleep with your face in his pillow.
Yet the harsh and cold voice made your head clear of your thoughts and you finally noticed your best friend walking into his own room.
“What are you doing here?” Rafe grumbled at you as soon as he slammed the door, turned the lock and turned around, only to see you sitting on his bed.
“What?” His bloodshot eyes were burning holes into you and you innocently blinked at him, not understanding why he was acting so weird.
“I said, what–”
“Don’t yell at me.” You interrupted him calmly. “We wanted to hang out; it’s been a few days since it was just the two of us. You never complain when I come here.”
“Ye-yeah, fuck…sorry, I didn’t mean to.” You watched how Rafe started pacing around the room, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes. He was almost shaking, his hair looking like a mess, and you would’ve thought that he was on the verge of tears. “I’m not in the mood right now, okay? We’ll do it another time. Can you leave now? I– I need to be alone.”
“No, Rafe, I’m not leaving. What happened?” Your brows furrowed, concern and nerves bubbling inside of your body as you watched how your friend and the guy you had a crush on was slowly breaking down.
“Nothing. Nothing happened, Y/N.” He mumbled, still not staying in one place. “Just go.”
“I told you no.”
“Why can’t you listen to what I’m fucking telling you?!” Rafe snapped, stepping closer to you as if he were trying to scare you away. Yet you remained still in your place, not even flinching. Your brows shot up in silent question, eyes were glued to his face, and especially to the way his own eyes became more glassy and watery with every second. “Fuck, fuck—I'm sorry, I’m so sorry. I don’t want to yell at you.”
“Then don’t. You know I hate it when you’re doing it, Rafe.” You continued calmly. “Sit here and tell me what happened. I see that something’s wrong. It’s been that way for a long time, right? You’re acting differently… C’mere.” You patted the bed near you, giving Rafe a reassuring smile.
“I don’t know what to do, Y/N.” Sitting near you on the bed and holding his head in his hands, Rafe spoke so quietly that you could barely hear him. “I’m going insane. I have issues and nobody hears me.” You slowly, as if you were touching a wounded animal, put your hand on his back, slowly moving it up and down.
“Tell me. I’m here and I hear you. Please tell me what’s going on.” You tried to sound as soft as you could, moving a little bit closer. “You know you can trust me.”
“There’s something wrong with me. I— I have thoughts in my head that I don’t like. They’re bad. They’re wrong. I don’t want to be violent or feel these things inside of me but I c-can’t stop. They’re stronger than I am and sometimes they’re messing with my head.” Rafe’s voice cracked at the end and you felt the violent beating of your heart in your chest. He sniffed a few times, desperately trying to be strong in front of you and to hide the disgusting things that were eating him up alive.
“Are they dangerous to others or to you?”
“Both.”
You slowly nodded, processing the information and trying not to show the way it actually freaked you out. Did you know that Rafe struggled with anger and was not everyone's favorite person? Well, yes. He was nothing but sweet to you, though. You saw that he was a nice person, with a good heart. The only thing that he wanted in return was to feel needed, important, and loved.
And you always gave it to him.
But realizing that there were problems so much deeper and that he was now screaming for help because he could not live like that anymore made you wonder how you could be so stupid to not notice the signs earlier.
“Did you talk to your dad about it? Maybe anyone else? Or is it just me? ” You finally reached Rafe's face with your hand, turning him in your direction. You’ve never seen him even shed a tear, not to mention the state that he was in right now and it was shocking how much it hurt you too. The look in his pretty eyes was so desperate and so hurtful that you felt sick.
“He told me to man up. Cool, right? Can’t even do shit without disappointing him. I–I said that I have problems, but he just ignored it. He told me to rest and that it'd be okay.” He smiled at you, even though tears were still freely streaming down his face. “I just thought that maybe once he would hear me. See me. Not Sarah. I’m so fucking tired of it.” He shook his head and looked down. “So it’s only you. Nobody really cares about me anyway, so...”
“Oh, Rafe… Come here.” He wasn’t resisting when you dragged him closer to you by his arm. No, instead, he wrapped his arms around you as if his life were depending on it. You hugged Rafe back, slowly lowering both of you on the bed, until he was lying almost on top of you with his face in the crook of your neck and your fingers slowly brushing through his hair.
What you noticed is that Rafe was always cautious with physical contact. Sometimes it seemed like he tried to be closer to you, sit near you, or casually play with your hands or hair, but the next day he was completely dispant and hesitant.
It was obvious that now Rafe lowered his guards; he let you see the damaged parts of him and he craved your touch because it was the only thing that could ground him.
“I need help. I’m tired of this shit in my head, and I don’t want to continue ruining my life with alcohol and drugs…but it just calms everything down for some time and I don’t know how to come out of this circle.” Rafe sobbed harder, his arms wrapping around you even more, until you were closer than you'd ever been before. Your own eyes were filled with tears, but you refused to show them. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being such a disappointment. P-please don’t walk away.”
You knew about Rafe’s lifestyle, but despite your words, he always made it seem like not a big deal, like something fun that he does at parties. Though now it was obvious that the facade that he had built was slowly falling down and drowning him in it too.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Rafe. It’s not your fault. But you do need help, darling.” You whispered, pet name rolling from your tongue faster than you could’ve processed it. “It’s important that you understand it. And I’m not leaving. It’s the last thing that should be in your head.”
“I do. I want to get clean. I want to be normal. I just don’t know how.”
“That’s okay. I’m here for you, yeah? Your dad may not hear you, but I do and I’ll help you. We’ll figure it out together tomorrow, okay? Now you need to rest a little bit.” You reached the end of the bed, dragging a duvet and covering both of you with it. Rafe didn't move an inch from your warmth.
“You promise?”
“I promise, Rafe. You mean a lot to me; you know that, right? More than you think.” You whispered, soothingly brushing his blond hair again.
“You mean a lot to me too. More than you think.”
#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x you#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fluff
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It was the final hour. Doomsday at their door, with only hours left before the world was consumed entirely and every last living thing was devoured right along with it.
Summoning the High King of the Infinite Realms was the only option left, and even then felt more like choosing a firing squad rather than a noose at the end of the day. Pariah Dark might - might - accept the task of destroying the foe they faced, but tmit would come at a cost that was near equal to doing nothing at all. Provided the tyrannical ruler simply didn't let them all die, an entire planet dead was an entire planet to add to his endless armies.
They had to try. Stupid and suicidal as it was.
Zantanna and John worked in silence as they created the summoning circle, hands shaking and stomachs cramping as they worked under the apprehensive eyes of the rest of the League. They all understood that no matter what happened, they would all likely end up dead by the end of it. That the best case scenario meant that death was only the beginning of their problems.
Candles were lit. Insense burned. Blood spilled. Words spoken.
Nothing.
Nothing.
It failed, not so much as a flicker of magic. Which was impossible, they'd checked and confirmed a dozen times that they had the right ritual, that they were following the steps, they had done everything right way wasn't it working? What had they done wr-
"Ugh, gross is that blood?"
Elle Phantom, fifteen minuted late to the site of the ritual with both the boys Super, the most murderous Robin and a sugary abomination of an iced coffee from Starbucks, scrunched her nose in disgust as she looked at the summoning circle.
"This ritual is so out of date, where did you even find it? Wait is that Latin? Who tries to summon someone from the Ghost Zone in Latin?"
John had burned through every drop of alcohol and cigarette he owned hours ago while trying to find this bloody damn ritual and was very much not in the mood for the little hellspawn's color commentary on the process.
"I don't bloody well seeing you providing with any alternatives for summoning the Ghost King." He swore, turning away from the gremlin to tear through the ancient book he and Zantanna had discovered with the ritual inside.
There was a loud slurping noise as the undead hero sucked the last remnants of her drink through the straw. John's brow twitched, even Zantanna - who usually seemed endeared by the chaos goblin - looked at the end of her rope.
Then - "Oh, is that who you wanted to summon? Why didn't you say so?" She drifted over, handing her empty drink off to a disgruntled looking Batman, and began rummaging through the unused magival supplies left over from the - failed - summoning circle. "Here, give me like, five minutes."
John was fairly certain his head was about to explode.
"You know how to summon the Ghost King? You?"
Phantom rolled her eyes at him. "Duh, obviously."
"Obviously." Zantanna repeated, looking like she was half a moment away from having a breakdown. She didn't try to stop the ghostly girl, though, and to be fair neither was John. They were already fucked, might as well let the gremlin try her hand at it.
It took less than the five minutes Phantom had claimed she needed.
When she was done there was a significantly smaller circle on the ground. At the cardinal directions of the circle, written clockwise she'd drawn not any magical runes but instead what appeared to be the Roman Numerals for one, then two, then something akin to a sideways T with an additional mark rising upward from the long horizontal bar, then the letter L.
It had to have some kind of ancient magical significance John didn't know as Shazam made a noise like a dying goose and squeaked out the word Loss like it was a question. Phantom gave the Champion of Magic a sharp toothed grin before adding some words in a language John didn't know before she finally allowed gravity to pull her back to earth and plant her feet on the ground.
She wiped her hands together a bit dramatically, looking pleased with herself, but at that point John didn't care. He could feel the building magic, heavy and oppressive as she had begun her task. Unlike the circle he and Zantanna had attempted, this one was working.
He couldn't help thr nervous swallow he gave as Phantom then declared, with a strange amount of seriousness. "All that’s left are the words."
She took a deep breath, eyes closing for a moment, and the world went utterly silent around them. This, John could feel, this was the real deal. Fuck him sideways the hellspawn was actually doing it.
Phantom's eyes opened, glowing with that bright eerie green light of her power. Another deep breath and then -
"You are my dad! You're my dad!" He watched, any scraps of hope she'd instilled in him dying an undignified death as she gave a terrible little wiggle dance while she sang(?) Off key, "Boogie woogie woogie!"
Every last person on Earth was going to die and one of John's last moments was going to be spent watching the little undead shit do the Macarena. Well fuck him, he guessed.
Then there was the sound of the veil between the world's tearing in two and the fucking Ghost King was standing in Phantom's summoning circle screaming in a screeching falsetto:
"When will you learn? When will you learn that your actions have consequences!"
You know what actually at this point John would rather the apocalypse kill him.
#dc x dp#dp x dc#danny phantom#batman#justice league#danielle phantom#danielle fenton#john constantine#zantanna zatara#danny fenton#ghost king danny#Danny got to make up his own summoning rituals when he became king#there's a general one but he also has personalized rituals for each of his family members#all of them involve memes#the day is saved#but it's also the day that the Justice League find out Elle is the daughter(?) of the Ghost King#except for Damian Jon and Con#they already knew
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Et Tu, Brute? | Steph Cately x Reader
Words: 2.6k
Summary: everyone betrays you. You just didn’t expect her to do the same; "et tu, brute?" - 'you too, Brutus?' – Caesar upon seeing his friend amongst his assassins
Warnings: sexual themes, sexual shaming, leaked nudes, angst, I make the arsenal girls assholes sorry. this probably isn't my best but i hope you like it
Request by - @liasputellas
The air felt different as I walked into training. I wasn’t sure what it was. Maybe the way Maggie our receptionist looked at me with disgust, or the way the whole locker room went quiet when I walked in, or the way everyone seemed to avoid me like the plague.
The rain was pelting down on us, but I stood alone on the sideline shivering as Jonas gives the rest of the team instructions. Steph seemed to be missing today despite the empty space in bed when I awoke, so I was the odd one out. He finishes and approaches me.
“I think you should take a few days off.” Is the only thing he says.
“Why? What have I done wrong? No on will talk to me.”
“You haven’t seen?” I begin to get nervous, well more nervous than I already was, as he pulls out his phone.
“I thought Steph would have shown you this morning. I wish I wasn’t the one to break it to you.” He types things in and scrolls for a while before finally landing on what he’s looking for. Then he turns the phone to me.
Arsenal’s Star Midfielder, Y/n L/n’s Naughty Pictures Have Been Leaked By An Anonymous Source
My breathing grows heavy, and my head begins to pound. My sight goes into tunnel vision as I reread the headline over and over. This can’t be fucking happening.
I take off stumbling back toward the locker room, seeking some sort of privacy to have the breakdown. I end up sitting on the floor beneath a running shower in some false hope that it will wash away everything, but it’s all for naught. There was only one person I’d ever sent photos to, and it was Steph. She’s the one person I trust with my deepest secrets and she’s not here to comfort me or help me understand why the girls are ignoring. Obviously, it has to do with the photos but, I thought they’d be by my side.
Sobs wrack my body and I lose track of time as the shower continues to run, until I hear boots clacking against the linoleum floors. I scramble to get up and leave before they arrive, but the effort is futile.
They come piling in but stop in their tracks the moment Kim sees my soaking frame looking at the floor ashamed. I try to move around them, but Katie grabs a hold of my shoulder, my drenched jersey sticking to her skin as well as my own. My eyes flick around desperately looking for someone who will let me go, but not even Kyra seems to feel remorse.
“You’re going to go home, end things with Steph and stay somewhere until you figure out where you’re transferring to. You’re not welcome back here.” Katie pushes me back toward the locker room, clearly a sign that I should fucking move and get out, but I’m stood frozen.
“Did you not hear her?” Caitlin begins to approach me, much like a lion approaches it’s prey, but I still can’t move.
“Why are you doing this? Why would I end things with Steph?”
“You’re a dirty cheating bastard that doesn’t deserve her. You’re fucking disgusting.” Despite my want to fall to the ground and cry again, I slowly move to my cubby and grab my stuff, then make my way out.
-
When I finally pull into the driveway, I become very aware of Steph’s car that fills the space again. I become wary as I close the car door and make my way to the house, fearing what I’ll meet on the other side. I juggle my keys in my hand and struggle to slide it into the lock as they shake, but eventually the wood swings away from me and I step inside.
It’s eerily quiet as I make my way down the hall. Steph’s nowhere to be seen as I pull my now damp kit off and place it in the washing machine, or when I go to our room to grab clothes to change into. I trek back through the house, eventually falling onto the couch, with no sign of my wife.
My phone buzzes and I reach for it in a hurry, hoping to see a message from Steph. Instead, it’s from a small group chat of friends from across the football scene, checking in to ask if I’m okay. I leave them on read and scroll through my contacts to find Steph. I press call, but it goes straight to voicemail.
~~~~~
15 minutes later, keys rattle against the door in a similar fashion to how I imagine mine did, and in walks Steph. When she spots me on the couch she stops in her tracks and the look on her face slowly melts into anger.
“Why are you here?” I admit the harsh tone in her voice feels like a stab to the heart.
“Well, I basically just got fired so I didn’t really have anywhere else to go Steph. Can we talk?”
“I don’t want to talk to you ever again.”
“Why? Is it because the fucking pictures you didn’t even bother to tell me about? Who doesn’t tell their wife that private pictures were leaked?”
“Don’t act like I’m in the wrong! You sent those photos to someone, it’s your fault for trusting them!”
“Who?! You? You’re saying I shouldn’t trust you?”
“No! Whoever you sent those fucking pictures to! Because it certainly wasn’t me who got them!” I freeze once I realise what she’s implying.
“Y- you really think I cheated on you? You think so low of me?”
“There is no other explanation for it Y/n!”
“You… you and the girls are fucking unbelievable. I’ve only ever sent those types of things to you Steph. Only you. You’re the only person I’ve ever trusted enough. You really think I’d throw 6 years together, 2 of those married, away like that?” I take a deep breath as I try not to break down in front of who I thought was the love of my life.
“If you scroll back far enough, you’ll find those photos in our messages. Around 11 months ago, after your birthday. Before this morning you wouldn’t have been able to find them on anyone else’s phones except ours. Which means our messages got hacked.” I stand up and bump shoulders with her as I make my way back to our room, pulling out a duffle bag and packing it.
It takes a few minutes for the brunette to follow me, looming in the door.
“What are you doing?”
“Leaving. Clearly that’s what everyone wants.”
“You’re just leaving? Just giving up?”
“Giving up!? No Steph, I’m not ‘just giving up’. You think I’m capable of cheating. You think I’d throw away all my years of loving you just like that. For what? Some random hookup with a meaningless girl I’d never see again? You clearly don’t trust me, which I can’t live with. I love you. And it’s not just you. The whole fucking team thinks so little of me. I kept my vows, why can’t you keep yours?” I continue to move around the room, collecting items I needed, as I wait for her response.
“I love you.” Is the only thing she can say, so I slip on some shoes, leaving the worn arsenal kit in the washing machine.
“I love you too. But until you can give me a proper apology, and mean it, I’m going to stay with Mackenzie or Sam. I guess tell Jonas I’ll hand in my resignation papers by tomorrow.” She grips my arm as I try to walk past her. Tears pool in her eyes and I can’t stop mine from falling.
“Please stay. We can talk.” She whispers, her bottom lip wobbling.
“I don’t think I can do that right now.” I reply, and I kiss her gently as a goodbye before I walk out the door.
~~~~~
I end up at Sam’s, having officially resigned from Arsenal the morning after leaving, who made a statement later that same day.
We deeply regret that we have to make this statement but unfortunately Y/n L/n has been let go from the Arsenal team due to conflict between players. We wish her the best wherever she ends up.
I spend a lot of time with Kristie or join Sam at training to avoid looking at the horrible things people are saying about me on my phone. Sam likes to claim it’s ‘to feel like I’m still playing’. It just makes me sad, which is why I had every intention of refusing her offer to go again today. Then she told me Emma wanted to talk to me about something.
“Why does Emma want to talk to me?” I poke Sam continuously as she leads me down the halls of Cobham.
“I have no clue.” The cheeky grin I’m very familiar with graces her face but it doesn’t hint at anything.
I push open the door and Emma directs me to sit down, which I don’t hesitate to do. Sam closes the door and leaves us to talk.
“I wanted to discuss your career’s future. You’ve spent a lot of time here with us after the situation, but have you received any offers from other clubs? What are your moves?”
“No. I haven’t received anything, no one wants to take the player who’s had a sex scandal. Not even in the Championship League.”
“Well obviously the transfer window doesn’t open until January, so it’s not on the table to bring you in as a player. But I was wondering, how do you feel about coaching. I’ve seen you give the younger players like Aggie tips, and she comes back onto the field much better, it’s clearly something you’re good at. Would it be something you’d look into doing?” I blink in shock as I try to process the question.
“Uh.. yes, yes absolutely I’d love to. I- I took the coaching courses over the break when I was out of the world cup on injury, so I’m fully qualified.”
“Well I’d love to have you on the coaching team. I’m looking for people to keep the players in line once I leave and I think someone who has played the recent developments in the game would be perfect. I have the contract ready for you to sign, right here, if you want.” She slides the paper over, and I read it over.
Am I really going to do this? Go to my clubs biggest rival? I could never make an appearance at Arsenal as a player or member of the team ever again. No one else wanted me. I couldn’t refuse the only offer I have.
“W- what about the leak? Aren’t I a liability?”
“We’re not stupid. They were personal photos between you and your wife. It’s not your fault and we know that. I want the best coaches for my team. And that’s you.”
Shock washes over the world of women’s football this week as Y/n L/n signs as an assistant coach alongside Emma Hayes at Chelsea. What does her wife, Arsenal and Australia’s star left back Steph Cately, think about this decision?
The day my signing is announced is the first time any of the Arsenal girls, including Steph, reach out to me.
‘What the fuck are you doing?’ From Katie
‘Are you serious?’ From Caitlin and Kyra
‘I genuinely hope you’re happy there. You deserve the best and we couldn’t give it to you. I couldn’t give it to you. I love you and miss you. Maybe we could talk after the derby next weekend?’ I want so bad to leave Steph on read, but I can’t help but reply.
‘We’ll see. Love you’. Kristie takes my phone from me after that.
Training is odd. Being the one running it instead of participating. I like to join in on easy drills, bonding with some players, keeping fit and helping them understand how we want it done. A win-win-win if you will. Emma’s press conference before the game against Arsenal is when things get tense again.
“What effect do you think L/n on the Chelsea coaching staff will have on Arsenal, especially her wife Steph Cately? We haven’t seen them together in quite some time.” Some guy in the back of the room asks the question but it still rings in my ears as I hear it, Kristie watching the conference on her phone because Sam’s there.
“Well I don’t think it should have any effect on their players. Players have to compete against their former teammates all the time, whether as players or coaches. This should not be any different. They kicked her out, they made that decision. We gave her the option to come back into the game when no one else was willing to take that risk, and she’s made us better. As for Steph? I don’t know how she will react. She’s an incredible player, I’m sure she’ll be fine, but that’s none of my business.” I’m grateful for the way Emma stands up for me. She’s one of the few people I now trust with what’s going on behind the scenes of my life and marriage.
It's when we’re in the dugout, the players about to come out from the tunnel, when I begin to genuinely worry. I don’t want to put Steph off her game just by being here, but I’m not going to abandon the team that gave me everything when I had nothing. So I pull on my puffer coat, put in my ear piece, and take my spot next to Emma who puts an arm around my shoulder and squeezes me tight.
Yeah. I’ll be okay.
-
The game is rough, every time we score, Arsenal comes back with a matching goal. But they’re playing dirty. They’re making unnecessary tackles and getting yellow cards every other minute.
I laugh it off until Steph makes a challenge in the penalty box. Her leg stretches out in front of her, kicking the ball away from Fran’s feet, but she falls on a funny angle and doesn’t get back up.
I walk to the edge of the coach’s box, trying to get a better view as the medics run to her.
I tell myself she’ll be okay. She’s always okay.
The medics bring out a stretcher.
She’s not okay.
“Emma-”
“Go make sure she’s okay. We’ll be okay.” I follow closely behind the medics as they carry her down the tunnel and to the medical room.
I slide into the seat beside her as their team’s doctor checks on her knee, taking her hand in mine.
“You’re here.” She smiles gently at me, and I try not to cry. I haven’t seen her in so long.
“I’m here Stephy. I love you.”
“I miss you.” She pouts then grimaces as the doctor moves her knee.
“I miss you too. But-”
“But you can’t act like everything is fine unless I prove I trust you and regret what I did.” I nod solemnly.
“I promise I’ll prove it. Maybe you can come stay at home again. Just a couple times a week. We can have dinners and catch up. I miss the way you hold me.” She squeezes my hand as she waits for an answer.
“Yeah. Yeah, we can try that.” I press a kiss to her hand.
“But I’m staying at Chelsea. They treat me right here.” Steph pauses, but smiles.
“Rivalry could be good for us. You little Blue.”
It will be a long journey, but we’ll make it through.
#woso x reader#woso#womens soccer#the matildas x reader#wsl#the matildas#steph catley#steph cately x reader#arsenal fcw
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[vol i] [vol ii] [vol iii]
Eddie x fem!reader
Summary: Eddie is slowly becoming easier to live with you’re not sure if you’re just used to his disgusting behavior or if he’s truly trying to change. You make a schedule for chores and when/who/what time showers will be taken, chaos ensues on both Eddie and you. Eddie reveals a side of him that reader hasn’t seen/ noticed before.
W/C: 6.4k
A/N: if you were looking for some disgusting! Eddie smut this is the chapter for you babe.
Warnings: NO MINORS! Smut, blow jobs, rough sexual acts, degrading, daddy!kink, vomit, crude language (as if any of my fics don’t have this)
S/O: @agentmarvel @sweetsweetjellybean @boomhauer @mopeymopeymouse @chestylarouxx @banished-big-ope-vibes @carolmunson @newlips for helping me beta read, come up with dialogue, pacing, letting me insert them throughout the fic, helping me breakdown how this disgusting little mf would act in certain situations + everything in between! You guys are the best! If you aren’t already— follow them.
/
You couldn’t deny that things had gotten better with having Eddie as a roommate (not that you would ever express that to him) but living with the overgrown child was slightly very slightly, like a teeny tiny bit, better than it was before.
After living in his disgusting cluster fuck of a room for a week, Eddie finally sat down amongst his heap of mixed dirty and clean clothes and organized it. The disaster made your eye twitch every time you walked past his room in the morning and got a whiff of his stench, reeking of weed and Doritos, you finally convinced him to get it done, and in typical Eddie fashion— it came with a price.
After bargaining for days and nearly pulling your hair out because all he wanted was a single pair of your panties—
“Why? So you can hold them up like that dork in Sixteen Candles to show all your nerd friends?”
“Babe, the ladies I fuck don’t wear panties.”
He finally settled on a six pack of Busch Light, and for you to do his laundry for a week.
“Remember to separate my delicates, sweetheart.”
Fucking pig.
The only thing delicate about Eddie was his ego when you told him his hair was thinning out on top, (it definitely wasn’t, he had more hair than cousin It) but you needed the upper hand, and criticizing his hair was the way to do just that.
His bed frame and the oak dressers he had ordered, finally arrived. Allowing him to put away his never ending collection of band tee’s and holy jeans. Clearing a path for his floor.
“Holy shit, is that the carpet?” You ask, standing in the door frame before your shift at the salon, toothbrush in your hand, minty dollop of toothpaste atop it.
He’s elbow deep in the dresser, foregoing folding anything but instead shoving the clothes haphazardly into the shallow drawers and slamming them shut with his legs, or his hip.
“Wow, Tooty, you’re hilarious,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes, “but since you asked, yes, it does, match the drapes.”
A smile spreads across his lips. Another normal conversation turning into a sexual innuendo. He couldn’t be prouder of the way you walked right into that. Since you told him what happened to Eyeball he really has been holding back his usual gross behavior, but sometimes it was just a slip of the tongue for him. Involuntary action.
You turn to leave but he stops you, crossing the room at record speed and placing a ringed hand on your wrist, the surprising warmth from his hand burning your skin.
“Hey, uh, can I get your opinion quick?”
“I’ve already told you, I don’t think the groupies give a shit what color boxers you wear.”
“Wow, okay— that’s the wrong answer! But I’m talking about this.”
He points to the shelf crammed full of his odd knick knacks. It originally belonged to Nancy, but she had left it behind. Inside of it were a hoard of books. Lord of the Rings, something that looked like manuals for Dungeons & Dragons—of course he’s still playing that— a plethora of Stephen King books, and a full— more than likely sticky— stack of playboys. Go figure.
“What about it?”
“Do you think it looks good here or should I move it under the window?” Eddie asks, hands out wide measuring and comparing in arms length the distance under the window and the width of the book shelf.
You take a step into his room, every square inch of wall was covered in posters, your former bed sheets graffitied with his band, hung on one wall, the opposite held a kitchen knife stabbed through the drywall.
“What are you trying to do, feng shui?”
“Bless you.”
“What?”
He shrugs, “You sneezed, and me, being the pinnacle Christian son that I am, I blessed you, now should I keep this here?”
It took you a minute to comprehend what the hell just happened and why.
“Blessed by Eddie Munson— that’s the biggest oxymoron I’ve ever heard,” you snort, a smile twisted on your lips as you look at the overgrown man child huff about where to put his shelf, shoving your toothbrush into your mouth, “looks fine there.”
-
He did start cleaning up after himself, even offering to vacuum the living room in exchange for you making supper most nights. Begging you to make the lasagna again after he ate almost the entire pan the last time. He even decided to get take out on his one night a week to cook. Thank God because you couldn’t handle one more night of burnt, made-in-the-toaster, grilled cheese or using orange juice as a replacement when the milk was gone for cereal.
You learned the hard way that you needed to buy two separate gallons of milk, after watching Eddie drink straight from the jug, a dripping white mustache formed on his upper lip as he licked it suggestively, “Got milk?” He’d ask before roaring with laughter.
-
The next few weeks with Eddie as your roommate went rather smoothly. With you working at the salon and him working long hours at Boom’s Auto shop, you two came home at almost the same time every night. He would show up covered in grease and reeking of motor oil. His work coveralls, branding a white and red labeled patch with his name on them, had the sleeves cut off, showcasing his muscled arms and the wide array of tattoos prickling up and down them, shoulder to wrist. He wore a sweaty bandana wrapped around his head, rotating between a black or a red one, depending on the day.
You didn’t mind doing his laundry since his pockets were always full of either loose bills or the occasional joint, which you would keep, and smoke later with Robin and Steve, giggling watching the stars as you laid out on blankets in the backyard.
On Saturday nights, he usually played with the band, scoring a gig at the Hideout or working at the bar til closing time, helping Tom bartend a little until Walt got back from vacation. He stumbled in at night knocking over a lamp and almost falling backwards down the basement steps. He’d pass out for a greater half of the next day, waking in the afternoon with a raspy voice and smelling like cheap cologne.
One particular Sunday morning, he stumbled out of his room, wearing black boxer briefs, and a sleepy grin, rubbing his eyes like a little kid.
“Mornin’” he grumbled opening the fridge and diving in for his notorious pickles, tilting it to his lips and drinking straight from the jar.
You shake your head, sitting at the table and sorting through the mail. Your hair in a clip and wearing an oversized crew neck sweater, your mauve fingernails flicking through the envelope flaps, jotting down what’s due and when. “It’s 1 in the afternoon, Eddie.”
He smacks his lips loudly and faces you, fishing a pickle from the jar with his bare hands, “metal has no time limits, Tooty, we play until the bar shuts down.” He makes his way towards you, wearing one sock and chomping on his pickle.
You notice something on his stomach, a new tattoo? Maybe? Riding low on his waist and almost dipping below his underwear. The closer he gets you can make out the writing, a permanent marker phone number from a groupie written on his lower abs.
You point your pen towards his stomach, “gonna get that thing tattooed on, make it official, that Eddie the freak Munson has at least one adoring fan?”
He looks down, a smile pressing on his lips, “aww no need to be sad sweetheart,” he says lowering himself into a chair beside you, “there’s plenty of me to go around, and besides, I thought good little nuns couldn’t fuck, saving themselves for God.. or are you one of the dirty ones, showing your tits for cash so you can gamble?” He winks and laughs as you shove his shoulder trying to throw him out of the chair.
“You’re so gross!”
“And yet, I’m still here.” the Cheshire Cat smile planted on his lips.
Still. You had to admit, no matter how nasty his jokes were or how annoying he could be— having Eddie around wasn’t that bad.
-
“Tooty!” Eddie yells through the bathroom door bouncing from one foot to another, banging on the door with an open palm, “I’m going to piss my pants if you don’t hurry up!”
You had only been in the shower for ten minutes. When you walked past his room this morning with sleepy eyes and a deep yawn, metal music blared from his bedroom along with the annoying beep of his alarm clock, but the prince of filth was fast asleep.
“The schedule that you made says I get the bathroom first on Fridays, which is today!”
The schedule you had designed for Eddie and yourself consisted of 7 vertical columns one for each day of the week, and 5 horizontal columns: showering, laundry day, dishes, cooking, garbage. You had more days in the cooking column than Eddie, just like he had more days in the garbage column than you did. It evened out.
“Wrong— you were supposed to get the bathroom at 7, it’s now past 7:30 so it’s my turn,” you correct, putting a generous amount of body wash on your loofah and foaming it up, white suds cleansing your skin, “not my fault you can’t wake up to your alarm.”
“Christ, seriously just open the door! I’m fuckin’ dancing around out here like a little kid!”
“Can’t hear you,” you sing out to him, laughing silently beneath the spray of water.
You hear the feverish jiggle of the brass handle on the door and heavy footsteps as he stomps away. Oh the joys of victory. You bask in the delight of getting a one up on Eddie. Something that rarely happened in the few weeks he has been living with you. Slathering conditioner in your hair and rinsing, you exit the shower, feeling refreshed and ready to start the day.
Opening the bathroom door you expected Eddie to barrel through you to get to the bathroom, you’re taken aback when you hear faint yelling coming from outside.
“… piss in the front yard of my own house— I will! Go back to trimming your hedges with your toddler sized shorts and mind your own goddamn—,”
“Eddie!”
He’s standing barefoot in the middle of the lawn, his navy boxer briefs the only clothing he has on. Double middle fingers raised in the early morning sky aimed towards your neighbor across the street, Mr. Derry, the neighborhood watch dog. He was an older man, no kids, no wife. Retired. And a grade A pain in the ass.
Eddie turns and looks to you, pink blush creeping over his cheeks, “…business.” Eyes wide in innocence as if he hasn’t done anything wrong.
You’re still in your towel, hair soaking wet down your back, watching as this crazed lunatic you have as a roommate terrorizes the neighborhood, one flash of his dick at a time.
“What the hell are you doing?!” You ask, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him towards the front door.
“Gracing the common folk of Cherry Lane with my morning wood, yeah take a picture and frame it you fuckin’ perv!”
Yanking harder you get him inside and slam the door. Your cheeks are flushed with embarrassment.
You open your mouth to speak but Eddie has already started explaining.
“Listen, I had to piss bad, like really bad. You could have just unlocked the door but no, Ms. Uptight-independent Tooty with your rules and schedules—” he stops and takes a breath. After your conversation a few weeks ago about the downfall of Eyeball and your own family abandoning you, Eddie had been trying to be more reasonable about things, more cautious about the way he worded things. Not trying to twist the knife lodged into your chest that had been driven there years ago.
“So I made up my own rule! If you’re gonna take forever shaving your legs or…other things…” his eyes cast down your body. The white towel snug against your form, you clutch it tighter around you as his eyes stare through the towel, begging to catch a glimpse of your wet, smooth skin. Water droplets taunting him as they fall down the slick of your hair. He shakes his head to clear his gutter mind. “I’m going to take matters into my own hands, and believe me princess, it was a handful.”
That’s about as dialed back as Eddie could be.
“You can’t just piss in the front yard! This neighborhood is not like the trailer park, that asshole you called a perv—“
“He was! He was looking right at my dick!”
“— once called the cops on Nancy because she parked by his curb when we were having her bridal shower.”
“Wa-wait, Nancy fucking Wheeler got the cops called on her?”
“Yeah, Hop wasn’t too happy to find out what it was for, calling Derry a waste of space.”
Eddie laughs, “Oh I’m not surprised— him and I go way back, remember?”
Of course you did, he busted Eddie too many times driving higher than the Empire State Building while bringing you, Dustin, Will and Mike back to the Wheeler’s. It was almost a running joke between him and Hopper. Eddie would slip him a joint while in the back of his patrol vehicle and away he went, no ticket, no charge, nothing.
“Anyway,” you jeer, pointing a finger into his bare chest, the tip of your nail making a half moon indent into the head of the bloody demon inked on his left pec, “he’s a fucking asshole so don’t piss him off, he’ll make our lives hell.”
“Fine,” Eddie groans, running his hands down his face “but he was gawking!”
You roll your eyes and grab your hair dryer from your room. An adjustment you’ve had to do since Eddie moved in, getting ready partly in your room and in the bathroom. After your hair is dried and styled, you opt for a pair of light wash overall shorts, and a thick strapped, high neck tank top underneath. You finish your makeup by applying a coat of Revlon’s Toast of New York on your lips. Sliding on your knock off Doc Marten sandals, you grab your purse and head for the door.
Eddie’s sitting at the kitchen table, chair pulled out as he laces up his black work boots, body bent over his knee as he jerks his hand side to side, lazily working the laces through the hook eyelets.
“Still getting groceries tomorrow?” He asks, shoving his white cotton covered foot into his other boot, repeating the process. “I added some essentials to the grocery list.” He gestures to the pad and paper with a tilt of his chin.
Scanning the list you laugh, “Dunkaroos are not essential.”
“Don’t you dare cross them off!” Eddie fake shouts, a grin stretching across his lips, showing off his straight teeth.
“I’m off tomorrow and don’t have many clients today— I know it’s your night to cook, but I was thinking of making tater tot casserole for supper, I’ll just have to stop and get some ground beef from Bradley’s before I come home.”
“Oh shit,” Eddie lamented, “I have a gig tonight instead of tomorrow at the Hideout,” he says standing, running his hands down his legs to shake down his coveralls. “It’s probably going to be late, so don’t worry about making anything.”
Ripping the grocery list from the pad and stuffing it into your purse, you think back to how long it has been since you’d seen them play. You went along to support Chrissy and since Eddie was Kev’s longtime best friend and basically your chauffeur, you at least owed it to him to go with. A memory of you head banging and holding Chrissy’s hand tight as you both screamed for Corroded Coffin clouded your mind.
Threading your purse straps through your fingers and casting your eyes downward you have to know, “… you guys still play Lady Evil?”
Eddie grins again, “wouldn’t be a Corroded Coffin gig if we didn’t play some Sabbath, Jeff would probably throw a hissy fit.”
-
Friday evenings were usually busy in the shop. Boom ran a tight ship and paid better than any auto shop in a thirty mile radius. Eddie was lucky to get hired on using his street smarts and the fact that he was the unpaid mechanic of the trailer park for every banged up old sedan that his neighbors had since he was sixteen.
The old radio crackled and fussed as Hank Williams Jr sang about the survival rate of country boys. Boom whistled along with the tune. Running his tanned fingers through his blonde hair, a Mr. Pibb and a ham sandwich in front of him.
“So Eddie,” he says leaning back in his plastic chair, “I heard from the boys that you moved into a house on Cherry Lane. Damn boy, I thought that trailer park ran deep in your blood.”
Eddie throws his empty Mt. Dew can into the trash, missing by a mile. “Ahh Boom, you know I’m the prince of the park. Just stretching my city legs, helping out a friend.”
“Didn’t know you and Eyeball’s sister were close.” Aaron sneered, lighting up a cigarette with a strike of a match against his boot.
Eddie’s light hearted demeanor immediately changed, smile fading and eyebrows pulling together, “what the hell does that mean?”
“Helping out a friend?” Sean spat, his wiry mustache shriveled into a snarl, “what are you Mother Teresa? The only help that bitch needs is a fucking lobotomy.”
“Hey,” Eddie interjects, pointing a greased finger into Sean’s face, “don’t fucking talk about her like that, man.”
Aaron talks around his cigarette, blowing smoke across the table, “It’s true, she’s smokin’ fuckin’ hot but crazier than a shit house rat.”
The pair laugh, choking on smoke and bits of crusty bread.
“Remember what Chad said about her?” Aaron laughed..
“Fuck yeah how did he put that? Don’t marry the girls with the daddy issues, even if they let you put it in their a—”
Eddie slams his fists into Sean’s shirt, grabbing him by the collar and throwing him against the wall, “another word, about her— and I’ll break your fuckin’ nose.”
“You threatenin’ me Munson?” Sean chokes out.
Eddies eyes are crazed as he glares in Sean’s, “never a threat, pencil dick, it’s a promise.”
“Fellas,” Boom hollers, shoving his chair back with an eerie scratch, metal legs scraping on broken tile, “I’ll send ya both home for the day with no pay if y’all don’t knock it the fuck off.”
Eddie shoves Sean into the wall hard once more, releasing his grip on his shirt and adjusting his rings. He cracks his knuckles as he stomps back through the bay doors and out to the Buick he had been working on.
Ducking under the hood his breathing is erratic and his fists are shaking.
He never asked what happened with you and Chad but by the sounds of it, it sure as hell didn’t end on good terms.
It was fine if he teased you, but hearing it from anyone else wasn’t gonna fly with him. Not today, not ever. But something about the way you opened up to him, showed him your vulnerable side, it made him almost protective of you, like he needed to shield you from the ugliest parts of the world.
He never would have thought that Eyeball’s little sister, tough little Tooty, the same girl who punched Billy Hargrove in the face after pinching her ass one night, would make him care so much.
-
“Told ya he’s cool,” Steve slurs over his Bloody Mary, clinking the ice in the glass as he tips it back into his mouth, “he’s like a wild animal, but once you get to know him— he’s just a tattooed teddy bear.”
You, Robin and Steve were out for dinner and drinks at Louie’s, the newer sports bar in Hawkins, sitting under an emerald and white striped umbrella in the hot humid summer air. A monthly ritual you started ages ago when you all worked at Family Video. Only back then you went to Benny’s to get burgers and concrete thick milkshakes, racing to see who could finish first which ultimately ended in Robin getting a stomach ache, every time.
“I could have killed him the first few days,” you say, sipping your Malibu and Diet Coke through two neon straws, “honestly, still debating it.”
Robin steals the pickle spear and celery stick from Steve’s drink, munching away and talking with a mouthful, Steve simply rolls his eyes and reaches for another mozzarella stick, “wait, I thought you guys were getting along better now.”
“They are!” Steve interjects, pointing the mozzarella stick around like he was directing an orchestra, “I asked him myself when I brought my car to Boom’s yesterday for an oil change.”
The thought of your friends asking your roommate, who just so happens to also be their friend, how things were going between you both, made your stomach lurch.
“Well,” Robin began, twirling her pina colada and biting into the yellow flesh of the pineapple , “I’m just glad you aren’t by yourself anymore. It freaked me out knowing you were there alone.”
She wasn’t the only one.
Before Eddie had moved in, Steve gave you his prized nail bat to keep by your bed. So far you haven’t had to use it. And with Eddie in the house, it was stored in your closet.
“Alright, I’ll admit,” you say, taking a long drink, feeling the warmth of the coconut flavored alcohol mix with the Diet Coke bubbles, a frenzy on your tongue, “he’s come a long way,” you admit, dunking a fry into the mayo ketchup concoction, “finally house broke.”
It was the truth, you really didn’t mind him being around.
-
“Shh, gotta be quiet girls, daddy’s gonna take real good care of you, but seriously, you need to shut up.”
The girls laugh, drunk off bottom shelf liquor and Jell-O shots from the Hideout. Three pairs of tangled legs stumble through the front door as Eddie hurriedly works his keys into the lock.
The two of them giggle and hush one another, planting kisses on either side of his neck and stepping out of their shoes. His leather jacket hits the floor, the shirt he was wearing was ripped to shreds from the collar down. Carol’s fingers feverishly tore at his clothing before the three of them even made it to the van.
Foregoing the zipper on the tight leather mini dress she’s wearing, Eddie shoves it down her hips, giving her ass a firm squeeze, toying with the fishnet tights, “these stay on,” he demands, slapping her ass and unzipping his jeans, a parade of cheap lingerie, and leather studded clothing start from the front door and end in Eddie’s bedroom.
Your car wasn’t home which was odd but maybe it was parked in the garage. He wasn't sure where you were but if you were sleeping he didn’t want to wake you up. You had never discussed any boundaries about him bringing someone home, but what kind of rockstar would he be if he turned down hot twins?
They had approached him after the show, twisting their evil tongues into his mouth and groping him as soon as he got backstage.
Jeff was in the back room with his long time girlfriend Ash, they were holding each other tight as he kissed her neck and she squealed into his ear.
The girl who showed up to every gig, Marissa, wearing her signature “here for the drummer” shirt, was currently bent over the bathroom sink, Gareth buried deep inside her.
Even Big D was getting some action, the waitress from Benny’s, Emily, was currently bobbing along on his dick.
All of them were getting lucky, a win for Corroded Coffin. The girls were screaming for them, bras and panties tossed on stage, Gareth sporting multiple pairs around his neck. The old bar flies drunk off beer on tap were singing along to the requested songs.
Cece’s pink floral dress is brought over her head as Eddie sucks her nipple into his mouth, teasing and biting as Carol kneels at his feet and works her palm into his boxers, gasping at the hardened length in her grip.
A monster lies beneath the cotton. Almost as thick as her forearm, her dainty fingers unable to reach fully around his girth. She pumps him slow, releasing his throbbing cock.
His fingers twist into their hair as he shoves Cece down to her knees, joining Carol in the worship of Eddie Munson’s dick. Their greedy mouths take him in, one popping his balls into her mouth the other choking on his fat cock.
Eddie wasn’t gentle when he fucked groupies. He took what he wanted and didn’t leave any room for complaints or questions. Shut off from the gentle loving side sex can bring and only seeing red, it was like he was a mad man. A different person entirely. Truly the horns of satan poked through his forehead and his eyes clouded over revealing a black veil of sin.
Demon eyed.
He was pissed from what happened earlier at work. Fucking insane with rage at Sean and Aaron talking shit about you.
Not you, not Tooty.
His frustration builds as the sound of lungs gasping for air fills his ears.
“Fuck,” Eddie groans, “Jesus Christ— don’t you wanna be good for daddy? Open that fuckin’ throat up and take what I give to you.”
He grabs Cece’s hair and thrusts himself in her mouth, ignoring her tears as she gags and swallows him whole. “Are you crying? Poor fucking baby, what a shame, on the bed now.” He grabs her up by the throat and tosses her onto the bed.
He’d kill Chad if he ever saw him again. Still had no idea what he did or why you two broke up but hearing his mantra spill from those asshat’s mouths today was enough to make his skin crawl.
The vulgar shit they were saying. The way they non chalantly said it like they were reciting their McDonald’s order. Fuck that bothered him.
Cock swinging, Eddie pinches Carol’s nipples until she’s standing, he flips her upside down, fucking into her open mouth as he bites her fishnet tights open and spits on her pussy. Tossing her on the bed like discarded trash he slaps both of their asses.
He tries to blur you away from his mind, separate you from his brain for a while to release this pent up anger. But all he can see are the small tears falling from your eyes when you tell him the truth about your family.
The Grinch’s small heart grew three sizes that day.
Shaking his head he bounds to his bed, trying like hell to focus on his task at hand.
“Are my little whores ready? Think you can handle this without tearing up?”
-
When Steve drops you off you’ve already puked in his car, twice. When he announced that drinks were on him tonight, you may have been double fisting Jack and Cokes with Robin, and taking vodka shots, racing to see who could finish first.
Robin passed out in the back of his car, snuggled up with the cold leather on her cheek.
“Steeb, I’m fine, seriously! Look how good I’m walking.”
“That’s because I’m carrying you.” Steve huffs as he opens the front door.
You’re slurring your words and talking in a volume that could raise the dead, “You’re such a good friend Stephen, why? Why why why are you single?” You hiccup, the remnants of your vomit lingering on your breath, “You need a wife!”
“Tooty, we can talk about my failed love life another day,” Steve grunts, carrying you into the house, stepping over boots and skimpy clothing, “for now let’s get you to the bathroom so you can get cleaned up and maybe puke in the toilet this time!”
“I just wanna go to bed. I’m tired,” you whine, “Stoven bring me to my room, let me go to sleep!”
Ignoring you, Steve brings you to the bathroom and plops you down on the floor, opening the toilet lids just in time for you to blow chunks all over.
“Ooh that one looks like a mozzarella stick.”
“Jesus, I’m never letting you two idiots drink again! I’m always your goddamn babysitter, it’s so annoying.” Steve laughs, riddling your hair. Ever since you stepped foot into Family Video at fifteen, looking for a job, the three of you were inseparable. “You think you’re gonna be okay? I gotta get that other shit head home before she pukes in the backseat, I already have to clean the front.”
“Oh no! I didn’t know you threw up!”
Steve rolls his eyes, dragging his hands down his face.
“See you tomorrow, I’ll call you okay?” His face is pulled into concern, eyebrows raised and pinched together
You salute him and wave, laughing at his mop of hair flopping around as he turns to leave. Struggling for at least ten minutes to get your denim overall shorts unbuckled, cursing and giggling at your own drunken stupor. You finally manage to get them un done shucking them off your legs, leaving your upper body covered by your tank top, the black panties you were wearing still on. Sliding your arms around your back you manage to unhook your bra and thread it through your shirt, tossing it into the shower beside you. Exhausted, you rest your head on the toilet bowl— falling into a dizzy sleep.
-
“Cece, come here!” Carol whispers loudly. She’s standing in the doorway of the bathroom, mouth agape at the sight of the slumped over figure hugging the toilet bowl.
“Holy shit!” She says, emerging from Eddie’s bedroom. “Is that? No fucking way.”
“I didn’t know he was screwing her too!” Carol breathes jealousy spewing from her lips.
“You really think he’d want to fuck that? Look at her! She’s a walking basket case. I heard that her family moved away because she wigged out and tried to kill her own mom.”
“Actually, the rumor is that I killed them all,” you add, raising your sleepy drunk face from the toilet, seeing double and trying not to puke on the spot, you try to stand, using the toilet to support your weight as you push off from it, wobbling horrifically.
“Get the fuck out,” you say, vision dancing as you try to point to the front door, holding onto the sink to stabilize yourself wiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand, “now.”
“Yeah?” Cece spits, folding her arms across her chest, “you gonna make us? Last I checked we were guests—“
“Not anymore,” Eddie hissed, adjusting the waist of his sweatpants as he looks into the bathroom at your disheveled appearance. Your makeup is smeared from throwing up, you’re half naked and barefoot, clutching onto the sink. Your overalls are covered in puke, and in a heap of vomit on the floor, a purple bra hangs over the edge of the tub. He wedges himself into the bathroom between you and the two girls, covering you with his tall frame from their view. His nostrils are flared and his chest is puffed out, “you heard her, get the fuck out.”
“What the fuck Eddie?!” Carol gripes, looking into his mad eyes.
He glares back, bored with her, “Did you really think you were gonna stay the night?” He prods, “Please, you can’t be that fucking stupid. Get your shit and go.”
“We live across town!” Cece squeaks, face pulled into shock and humiliation.
“Don’t care.”
Carol crosses her arms and glares into his eyes, “It’s late!”
“And?” He asks glaring back, and pushing through them, “Here let me help.”
Eddie takes their purses and shoes, tossing them out the front door into the yard. Pointing to the open door and fuming, he spits, “Out.”
The girls leave screeching ‘fuck you’s’ as they walk down the sidewalk, disappearing into the night.
He turns back to the bathroom, hearing you vomit again, one small glance and he can tell you hit the sink at least, puke splattering all over— the same reaction if you held a spoon under running water.
He turns around and comes back with the cleaner and a roll of paper towels, gagging with each wipe of the sink as he cleans it up.
Your crumbled body is slumped over the toilet again.
“Gonna live? Or should I call the coroner.” He says leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and a look of worry on his face.
“ ‘s Robin’s fault,” you mumble, voice echoing in the toilet bowl, “woulda been fine if it wasn’t for the sh—,” you gag thinking of the vodka, “—shots, I’m usually not like this.”
Eddie sits on the side of the tub. You’re wasted and half dressed. He was a lot of things but taking advantage of a drunk girl wasn’t him. He finds your robe hanging in its designated spot, and drapes it across your bare shoulders.
“Sit up a bit,” he instructs. With great effort you sit up, almost falling backwards but Eddie catches you, careful of his hand placements not wanting to graze you in your inebriated state. He helps you sit and you put your arms through the holes of the robe. He reaches gently around your middle to tie it. Putting delicate pressure on your back as he leans you forward towards the toilet. You hum with satisfaction as your face feels the cool plastic of the toilet seat. Fighting the urge to rub your back.
“I’m dying, you can have the house when I’m gone, scatter my ashes in the rose bushes out back.” You say with a whine. Groaning as your stomach churns again, puking up more and more of the mixed alcohol you drank earlier in the night.
“Need some water?” Eddie guesses.
You nod your head, feeling like it weighs a hundred pounds you set it back down.
He leaves and comes back from the kitchen with a glass of water, swirly straw included. Tapping your shoulder he hands you the Disney cup, taking a long pull from the straw, you set the cup down on the linoleum floor.
“Thanks.”
“Agh, you’ll be alright. The porcelain Gods and I are great friends— well we used to be back in high school. I haven’t prayed to them in a while,” he says with a chuckle. Sliding down against the wall behind you, sitting on the cold floor.
“Don’t forget the time you and Kev ate those shrooms and puked all night in the basement of our house.” You mutter, wiping your mouth with your sleeve and flushing the toilet.
That was a night Eddie would never forget, he was only sixteen, and he somehow scored some homemade brownies and shrooms from one of the seniors. Being young and dumb, him and Eyeball each ate three brownies and an entire bag of shrooms. The high was insane, but the aftermath was death. He hasn’t touched shrooms since.
“Shit,” Eddie exclaims, “how old were you? Ten?”
“ ‘leven,” you say, holding your elbows on the toilet seat and your head in your palms, “old enough to know you and Kev didn’t magically get the flu at the same time.”
“Man we were dumb,” he says with a laugh, rubbing his chin with his hand.
“Were?” you say slyly.
“Easy, I’m not the one who can’t hold their liquor, Princess.”
“Oh Jesus please no more mention of it or I will barf—again.”
He stands to leave, laughing and stretching his arms out over his head as a small yawn escapes him. Exhausted from the day's events: work, concert, threesome— ain’t no way he’d be up before noon tomorrow— you either.
“Think I’m gonna go to bed, you going to be okay?”
Sitting up and looking at Eddie for the first time tonight, you aren’t sure if it’s because you’re drunk, but it’s almost as if it’s the very first time you’ve seen him. His amber colored eyes are surrounded by a forest of black eyelashes, his mop of curly hair hanging in them slightly, smooth pink lips, surprisingly full, a sharp jaw with a days worth of stubble, his veiny neck dances as he swallows, adam’s apple bobbing up and down. His shoulders are thick snaking down to muscled forearms, veins protruding from them, his hands are easily double the size of yours, thick fingers adorned with the same chunky stupid rings he’s worn forever. His broad chest stretches across his ribs, nipples pierced since the 80’s. He stands with confidence. His slender waist with the tiniest patch of hair ducking into the gray waistband of his hanes boxer briefs. And the prettiest alabaster skin peeking out from his collection of black tattoos.
Mouth suddenly dry, you stutter, “I—I’m done throwing up, gonna go to my bed.”
You stand on Bambi’s legs, hitting the wall hard with your shoulder. “Jesus Christ,” Eddie laughs and scoops you up making sure he’s holding under your bent knees and around your upper arms. He carries you to your bed, his skin burning hot against your cheek. He lays you down, throwing the blankets over your head for good measure, trying like hell to ignore the flutter in his stomach as you huff and pout pulling your eyebrows inward and frowning as you place your blankets to your liking.
“Get some sleep Tooty.” Eddie says all too softly. Pushing your cute sleepy face from his mind, rocking back on his heels as he starts to leave your room.
“Eddie?” You call after him, your small voice ripping through him like a knife. “Thank you, seriously. For everything.”
Shaking his head back and forth, his wild hair flows like a curtain around him in the dark as he leaves your room, “you owe me,” he says with a small grin, shutting the door behind him.
//
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/
SEE YOU IN VOLUME: V
[volume: 5]
putting random symbols in hopes that read more will eat this instead of the last paragraph 😩
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#eddie x you#eddie x reader#eddie x fem!reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x reader#roommate!eddie#roommate!eddie munson
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Now don't get me wrong, I like how... calm and unbothered Alastor is, or at least tries to pass himself off as being
but like.... we know he's a drinker.... and we know certain details about him having an alcoholic abusive father who was cruel to his mother which heavily influenced his whole Dexter serial killer morality bs... and I can't help but think of a fic idea where Reader and Alastor are together and, suddenly without warning you break up with him BECAUSE YOU CHEATED ON HIM. you're like, legitimately heartbroken and missing him but you broke up for a good reason and, time passes and you dont see or hear from him, you're basically just going on with your life, and, MEANWHILE HE'S JUST SLOWLY DEVOLVING IN A PATHETIC LITTLE MEOW MEOW
His radio show comes on and he's SLURRING and people are aghast. Alastor is usually such a classy gentleman, so careful with his image??? Meanwhile he's in his radio station with several glasses of whiskey and staring at a wall lined with your photos while he's broadcasting, "ohhhh hEeeEy LiSteNers!! How-how are you all doing this.... 😡LOVELY😤 evening. Isnt..... isn't it... so nice to... spend time with loved ones when you need them? 🥴 WELL I WOULDNT KNOW HA HAH HA" *cue 30 straight uninterrupted seconds of unhinged laughing from a man clearly having an emotional crisis* "so on tonightsssshow I was-i wasszzz hoping to-to discussss-"
Like imagine tuning into his show after avoiding it because it broke your heart and it turns from him like, having an actual topic and planned structure of his show, to then, one day you overhear a broadcast and he's just occasionally slurring, saying really really vague shit about how "real men are supposed to be strong enough to protect and hold onto those they hold dear" and you can occasionally hear the THUNK of his whiskey glass hitting the table meaning he's already drunk but still drinking WHILE broadcasting and, oh honey you already sound so wasted you don't need more--
You guys don't understand. I want this man having a very PUBLIC very MESSY mental breakdown because he was CRAZY IN LOVE WITH YOU and you sat him down and told him you love him deeply but you need sex and you've cheated on him REPEATEDLY and EVEN THEN he was HARDCORE COPING, "w well as long as you promise it won't happen again-" "I cant and i won't. I love you but i cant repress this part of myself" LIKE YOU DECIMATE THIS MAN. Alastor's just beside himself because like, not without valid feelings but you're basically dumping him to fuck strangers. Like. I just. What if he literally had a ring box or was starting to realize he's demisexual on the ace spectrum and was starting to have Those Feelings for you and you're just. Breaking up with him, and all he hears is "sorry but having these disgusting men I don't even know hunch over on me grunting like disgusting animals and defiling me who is definitely way too good for them is way better than being with you my respectful funny classy charming totally-not-husband"
I want you to be walking down the streets of Hell and Vox suddenly comes on their equivalent of a jumbotron and he's visibly beside himself with excitement, "BREAKING NEWS, THE RADIO DEMON IS PISS DRUNK IN THE GUTTER LIKE A FUCKING LOSER, MORE NEWS ON THE SCENE" and it just snap cuts to him facedown in the street somewhere. Have you ever seen Intervention. You can have grown ass adults with successful careers and loving communities and when they find something that breaks them you'll be seeing shit like, children finding their mothers literally passed out in the yard because they were too drunk to get into the house or even WALK properly. So. You just. See him in this legitimately pathetic absolutely humiliating state and you can't help but feel that that's YOUR fault, meanwhile Vox is living his best fucking life, GOD FORBID VOX SEES YOU STANDING THERE CRYING ON THE SIDEWALK, he's then broadcasting your crying face all over Hell, "Hey Alastor even your EX is CRYING AT HOW PATHETIC YOU ARE, GUESS THAT'S WHY THEY LEFT YOU HUH" and like. The live feed of Alastor shows him just, struggling to even lift his head to look up to, wherever, and see your image there, looking absolutely devastated, looking at him with pity and heartbreak. oh, his sweet beloved, looking so distressed because you see him so weak...
Vox is just living it up mocking both of you but he's made several enormous mistakes by putting you on the air, especially looking like THAT, especially with Alastor in this mental state, and ESPECIALLY to mock you when you're already looking so broken. The feed cuts. All the TVs read "LOST SIGNAL" and nothing comes back on the news for the rest of the night. Less than a week later, the radios are on again, and Alastor sounds... completely back to normal? Chipper, even? And at first you're happy to hear he's all good and well, but, there's something about some of the things he's saying that are making you a little.... nervous?
"You know folks, it took me an EMBARRASSINGLY long while to realize that, a true traditional man puts the needs of others above himself, and especially the needs of his special somebody! One can't truly care for one's loved one properly if you're too boggled down with, FEELING SORRY for yourself right? How else are you going to... defend what's yours if you just lie down and take it?"
"So while I was off the air, good listeners, I was doing quite a bit of, spring cleaning, let's call it! Yes, I was... unfortunately very busy, having to wrangle up quite a few.... disgusting, insignificant, dirty, thieving PERVERTS!!!! ....but now that that's all good and done with, I'd certainly like to think these streets are a little more... respectable!"
"To end the broadcast tonight, a final word to all my fellow men out there. If you happen to discover that, for whatever reason, your beloved has run off with another? It was because you deserved it for being WEAK. You allowed another man to just, COME IN and... DESECRATE what is precious to you? Disgraceful. Pathetic. Ill-mannered. You cannot call yourself a worthy partner if you simply allow your beloved to waltz themselves into the mouth of danger, can you? So, a little piece of advice from your humble host here tonight: Take back what is yours. Take them back, do not let them go, and do not let anyone EVER soil your love ever again. ........Also hey! Don't forget that the annual Cannibal District Cook-Out is this coming weekend so be sure to--"
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geto and 39? :>
A/N: foaming at the mouth I love Geto sm. I'm not sure if this was quite enough body worship but also I feel like he wouldn't be that obvious with it, especially after his defection and leading up to the night of 100 curses. But I am a FIRM believer he would try to baby trap. Hope you like it mwuah
CW: riding, pet names, baby trapping
Body worship x Geto Suguru
"A-ah, Geto-Sama!" Thrust. "Please, beautiful." Thrust. "I thought I asked you to call me Suguru when we're alone." Thrust.
It had been a few months since you and Geto had met each other. You, an apparent normal human being who has been saying what you thought to be ghosts for your entire life. You had ignored them the best you could, being in and out of psychiatric hospitals because of your bouts of fear with the paranormal. Society had shunned you for your "insanity". But you knew they were there, even if you were the only one who saw them. Eventually, you faked being cured of whatever level of psychosis they thought you had, stopping the medication that sedated you. You simply learned to pretend they weren't there. It got easier as the years progressed, however some days were more difficult than others, depending on the size of the curse, and depending on how in your face it wanted to be. You thought you would just live like this—on the verge of a mental breakdown one day at a time. Until you met Geto.
You saw him one day, at the tail end of swiping away at one that seemed to be a pretty big nuisance for him, before condensing it into a black orb and ingesting it. You couldn't help but stare, eyes wide and hands trembling. It was someone else that saw them, someone else that can do something about them. There was no way you hallucinated that. He glanced over at you in disgust that a monkey would even have the audacity to look at him. But tears accumulated in your eyes, and you whispered "you see them too?"
He softened immediately after that.
Geto took you in, soothing your tears after telling him all the terrible years you've endured. Days turned into weeks, of helping you understand what the world of jujutsu is, of what curses are, of his end goal. Weeks turned into months, of him letting you stay with him even though you weren't a fighter, and your healing abilities were barely sustained. He let you stay because he had a soft spot. And feelings emerged. Started to cherish you, started to steal glances, fingers grazing just a bit more than deemed normal.
Geto was in love with you. The rest of them could see it, but they wouldn't dare say anything around him.
"Ah—fuck—'msorry Suguru" you hiccuped, bouncing on his lap, cock buried deep inside your sloppy pussy. Suguru loved you like this, chest to chest, as close to him as possible. It felt right this way. "Let me take care of you, pretty girl. You deserve it" he slowed his movements, wanting to take his time with you. Suguru placed open mouthed kisses on your chest, lavishing your nipples under his tongue. "You're so perfect" he'd whisper, hands caressing your back like he was holding a doll. "I can't believe I've gone my life without you." Another kiss to your chest, and a suck to your other nipple. You gasped, clenching around his dick, juices flowing freely over his balls. "Suguru," you whined "feels good." He kissed your neck, and pressed you closer to him. A hand came up to your head to pull you down for a kiss on your lips, slow and deliberate, taking his time to taste you fully. "I want to make you feel good always, my perfect baby. Taking me so well, your pussy was made for me." Another clench and whine, head lulling to the side out of sheer bliss. "Never want to let you go" he murmured, though he wasn't sure if you heard it.
Geto quickened, a hand coming in between your bodies to rub at the swollen nub at the apex of your thighs. You cried out and tightened around him, orgasm closing it. "Come on, beautiful. Cum for me, I want to feel your cute little cunt milking me" Suguru bit at your neck, angling his hips to hit that delicious squishy part inside you that made you see stars. "S-suguru! A-ah fuck, oh fuck" you cried out, legs trembling and body shaking with the intensity of your orgasm. You rode out your high as Geto continued to pump his length into you. "Gonna cum in you, pretty, gonna fill you up." He thrusted into you a few more times before shooting his load into you. He fucked his cum into you, wanting more than anything to keep it inside that puffy cunt of yours.
I love you, I love you, I love you.
He was going to make sure it took, that you'd get pregnant. You wouldn't leave him now, he was sure of it. But he needed a guarantee.
#getou x reader#getou suguru#geto x reader#geto suguru#jjk geto#geto smut#milk kinktober#milk writes#jujutsu geto#jujutsu kaisen
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Fem. proxy NSFW headcanons with the three proxies? (separately) I love the way you write them, and you really don't find people who write them accurately anymore. Thank you!
Hi! Thank you so much,I am glad the fandom is still alive! :D
Creepypasta Proxies x fem!Reader
|NSFW headcanons|
Warnings: implied nsfw,suggestive language,mental illness mentions,dub-con/non-con mentions,misogyny, various kinks mentions including dacryphilia,knife play and somnophilia
Side note: Sex is meant to be a pleasure experience for both partners (or more,whatever y'all are into) and it isn't limited to a particular "style", it is okay to explore and feel good and confident about it.Stay safe everyone!
Toby would be the one who would think about engaging in sexual activities the most
I ain't gonna sugarcoat it,he's still very mentally ill so he would only assume you don't necessarily find him attractive enough if you seem to reject all of his affection that would lead to something more
That's why during some of his breakdowns he might push you and get pretty violent,forcing himself onto you while kissing roughly,altough he wouldn't continue to a very end if you're extremely uncomfortable about it
Considering the amount of trauma he has,the few moments he can feel at his best are during the highs of an orgasm tbh
Did I ever mention he has a mommy kink? I definitely fucking did he will let you use him as you please,dirty talking also gets him last a few more rounds.He just wants to know he is the one who can please you the most,that he's doing a good job,that he's your pretty good boy~
Degrade him a little,he also doesn't mind if you want to crave a little something into his skin.Even tough he cannot feel pain he definitely likes it,it's something that makes him feel like he belongs to you
Toby would do the same if you let him.He has his moments where he wants to feel in total control,but at the same time he's all sloppy and needs to touch and lick every part of your body
Holding you into a tight grasp while you bounce on him makes him all vocal,he doesn't hold back on moans either, looking up to you like you're all that matters to him in this world
He loves to hold you as close as possible during intercourse,as close as he can get to hear your fast heartbeat or to lick the tears that escape from your pretty eyes
Masky is rough and would often not let you cum until you beg and further humiliate yourself to get it from him
He would fuck you in front of a mirror as exposed as possible while praising and shaming you at the same time
Holding your hair into a fist while pressing your head into a pillow and holding both of your hands between your back as he doesn't stop thrusting into you until you're left breathless is what he loves the most
He can still act arrogant and bossy, blowing the smoke on your face while forcing you to take all of his length in your throat,maybe even putting his hands under his head while acting like you blowing him off it's such a chore fucking douchebag
Tim can be a sweet and loving partner,making sure you are okay while leaving soft kisses on the spots Masky left on you
The white masked man still loves to be in power and would talk disgusting things to you because of it
"You were made for this,weren't you?" ; "Finally learning where your place is,am I right?" ; "I bet your cunt deserves more atttention,after all you've been a good slut lately" and so on and so forth,would make you agree and be vocal while saying the exact words he wants you to say
Would engage in fear play and grind onto you while you sleep,staring at you while he strokes himself off and finally covering your mouth and thrusting all of his length into you while letting out grunts and low moans
Hate fucking is nothing that he isn't familiar with,he secretly adores when you put him in his place and fuck his brains out,if you're not easily intimidated and take the lead you can make him roll his eyes into his skull and use this to shame him later he deserves it
Hoodie adores when you start crying while desperately holding onto him if you're not tied up,of course while you're overstimulated and shaking from the last few orgasms.
"C'mon,I know you can continue,one more time for me,hm?"
He's isn't as much of a jerk like his friend,but I totally can see him taking his sweet time to ravish you just for his fucked up pleasure
He would often tease you in semi public spaces or legit under the table while other residents are talking to you,he has no shame about it either
Cannot keep his mouth shut for anything,he will whisper the dirtiest filth to your ears while soft grunts escape his mouth
Except to be touched while sleeping next to him.He would gently pet your hair while you sleep on his chest,then his hand would move across your body.He cannot help it,you look way too peaceful while you're dozed off,so defenless and utterly at his mercy
If you insist to use a safe word with him he would respect it while smirking,his ego would be over the roof,especially knowing on how good he makes you feel
"You feelin' good?" he asks as he takes his sweet time to make you beg for him to go faster,he's okay to take orders and doesn't mind instructions on how to make you feel even better than before
As long as you allow him in and ask nicely he's all yours to break or to use to break yourself into~
#creepypasta x reader#creepypasta headcanons#creepypasta#headcanons#y/n#tim wright#tim wright x reader#brian thomas#brian thomas x reader#brian x reader#marble hornets x reader#marble hornets#marble hornets headcanons#ticci toby x reader#ticci toby headcanons#creepypasta toby headcanons#creepypasta masky headcanons#creepypasta hoodie headcanons
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If I (Lovin Me pt 3)
Summary: Jeonghan has made so many mistakes. He’s let so many things slip away, so many things that he’s cherished. He won’t let that happen again. He won’t let you slip away from him anymore.
Genre: Angst, fluff, College!au
Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x fem!reader (featuring Joshua, S.Coups, Hoshi, Mingyu, and DK)
WC: ~6.7k
Read other parts: pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3
WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT
Warnings: Alcohol consumption (not a ton though), mild flirting, Jeonghan is sad, reader is sad, everyone is sad, swearing, name calling (not the fun kind), a few mental breakdowns, the reader knows she was being manipulated and was somewhat okay with it (idk just read it), Joshua is flirty but like in a best friend kinda way, everyone knows Jeonghan and Y/N are simps, Jeonghan MEGA SIMP
Listen to If I by Seventeen for full effect
A/N: In honor of me reaching 300 followers, here is part 3 of Lovin me! I appreciate all of you for reading this and I hope you continue to enjoy my works <3
~
Our path, our promise to be together
Is already thwarted and you walk away, turning your back on me
It reduces to a single dot
It's too empty outside of that interest
I hope that that dot
Comes back before me and turns into you
“Have I ever told you how stupid you are?”
Jeonghan is sitting on the couch, head down and his hands tangled in the strands of his hair. Across from him stands Joshua, Seungcheol, Soonyoung, and Seokmin. He barely makes the effort to listen to his friends as they yell at him. He wants to say that he doesn’t know where those words came from. He wants to say he didn’t mean to say any of that, that he was just mad and didn’t know what else to do.
But that’s a lie.
He knew exactly what he was saying. Though the reason he said it is something that can’t be found, he’d wanted to tell you that since the night of the party.
“Are you even listening to us?” Soonyoung’s gaze is hard. There’s nothing but anger in his eyes, and Jeonghan feels the guilt beginning to seep into his bones again. “What the fuck were you even thinking?”
“Soonyoung,” Joshua, ever the voice of reason, cuts in. “Leave him be.”
“Shua—” A glare from the older man and Soonyoung shuts his mouth, leaving the room shortly after.
“Seok, make sure Soonyoung stays out.” The other man doesn’t really say anything, just shoots Jeonghan a murderous look before stalking out of the room.
There’s a certain tension building between the three remaining men. Jeonghan keeps his head down, avoiding the judging glare the Seungcheol obviously has glued on and the disgust that Joshua tries to force down and replace with pity. The two, having known Y/N a little more than everyone else, were rightfully angered.
“Do you have anything to say to defend yourself?”
Jeonghan finally lifts his head, his cheeks red from anger and embarrassment. He wants to scream and yell and throw things and hit the men in front of him. He wants to run out the door, find you, and fix things. He wants to do so much, but all he can do is bite back a sob.
He’d never been a particularly emotional man. He’d never been one for crying, thinking that there was no point in being upset over something from the past. His family had always been stoic people, keeping their emotions to themselves and never letting the public see them come apart. Jeonghan had grown up the same way. Jeonghan had thought that he’d stay that way.
Then he met you.
Emotional. Broken. Crying over dogs that die in movies. He’d been disgusted by how open you were with your thoughts. Disgusted that you showed your struggles to the world and didn’t care if you embarrassed yourself.
~
The first time Jeonghan officially met you was in the spring of your sophomore year. He was a semester ahead of you and had convinced himself that he was far superior to every other student at this university. He’d seen you in passing, in some classes the semesters prior, and had bumped into you in the halls once or twice. Never had you spoken. Never had either of you thought the other was important.
He approached you for the first time while you were studying for your Organic Chem final. You’d been crying quietly at the time, muffling your sobs with the sleeve of your sweater. It worked, mostly. But apparently, Jeonghan, from across the library, believed that you were far too loud and far too pathetic for his liking.
“You’re weak.” He stares down at you, standing at the head of your table in the library while you try to stop your tears. You look up at him, tears not slowing and a confused pout on your face. His lip curls, anger washing over him in tidal waves.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re weak,” he repeats. “Pathetic, really, that you’re crying over something so trivial.”
“Why do you care what I’m crying about?” You ask.
“Oh, I couldn’t give less of a shit about you,” he smiles, but it’s condescending. He doesn’t care what you feel after this, he just wants his opinion of you known so you can stay out of his way. “I care that you’re annoying as shit and bothering me while I try to get stuff done without listening to your pathetic blubbering.”
You’re shocked, he can tell, but that just means that his words will sink in and hopefully you can shut up.
Unfortunately, he underestimated you. And, unfortunately, he failed to see the iced coffee beside your textbooks until it was soaking into his hair and the crisp white button-down he’d made the fatal mistake of wearing that day.
“Who…” he seethes, “the fuck do you think you are?”
“Who do you think you are?” You snap back. “I didn’t fucking do anything to you, so why do you think you have the right to come over here and insult me? You don’t even know me you egotistical rich prick.” He would never have admitted it to you, but he’d admired how you stood up to him. How you didn’t bend to his will just because of who he was, what his reputation was. He’d admired that you didn’t even recognize him, although, at the same time, it bothered him to no end. Jeonghan wanted you to know him. He wanted to break that strong will of yours, no matter what it took.
Especially now that you’d dumped coffee over his head and forever stained his favorite shirt.
~
It was months later— September of your junior year, to be exact— that he allowed himself to let his guard down for the first time. At least, for the first time in front of you, of all people. Jeonghan, frankly, couldn’t help the disgust overwhelming every other emotion when you’d approached him outside his frat’s party. He’d tucked himself away, out of the view of all partygoers, hidden by the branches of an old oak tree. His heart beat rapidly, slamming against his ribs time and time again until he thought the bones were going to break.
A crunch in the leaves behind him and he flinches, tearing his head out of his hands to wipe the tears from his eyes.
He catches sight of you, and you him.
You’re wearing a skirt much too short and a shirt far too tight to be considered comfortable. You walked in heels far too tall for your feet to stay stable in, and he watches you wobble over to him. He can’t find it in him to scoff or laugh or mock you. He lets you sit beside him, playing with your thumbs and not saying anything.
You listen to him cry, but you don’t make fun of him as his family would. You don’t comfort him. He’s grateful to you. He’d never admit it, but he was grateful that you just sat there quietly.
He lets his head slip down and rest on your shoulder, and he feels you tense up. Jeonghan half expects you to shove him off, with how he’d treated you.
You don’t.
The next day, you went back to normal. He knew it hurt you when he started openly berating you again, mocking the way you dress and the way you talk. He saw the tears pricking in your eyes and scoffs. How dare you think that things would be different. How naive could one possibly be?
After your class together, though, he’d made excuses to his friends so he could catch up to you. They didn’t question him. They never did.
“Hey,” he called out to you. The halls were near empty. Most people were either studying or in class, so nobody would see him approaching you.
You turn to him, your eyes narrowed.
“Yes?” Your answer is simple, your voice quiet but clearly annoyed. He frowns.
“I just— I hope you know that last night changed nothing about how I feel about you.” You raise an eyebrow, and he goes to speak again, but you interrupt him.
“Why do you hate me so much?” He runs his tongue over his lip and shrugs.
“Because you’re easy.”
~
“I told her she was easy.” Jeonghan looks between Joshua and Seungcheol with this…distraught look on his face. “I told her that she was an easy target. Like she was someone that was meant to be used.” Joshua mumbles some curses under his breath and pinches the bridge of his nose, stepping away momentarily.
“When did you say that?” Seungcheol asks quietly. Jeonghan can practically feel the rage building inside the older man, can feel it bubbling up inside him and waiting to boil over.
“During…while I was talking to her. I told her just a little bit ago and— and I told her that a few months ago. Back when we first started this whole thing.” More tears are beginning to well up. He can feel them starting to roll down his cheeks but his body is shaking so badly he can’t move. “She knew from the start that I hadn’t given a shit about her. Why did she— why would she agree to that arrangement if she’d known I was just using her?”
“Because she cared about you, Jeonghan.” Joshua snaps. “Because even though she knew you hated her, she also knew that you felt you had no one who could help save you from yourself. She saw that you were just killing yourself slowly, from the inside out, and she wanted to help you no matter what it cost her.”
~
“Y/N?” A tap on your shoulder and you flinch, jolted out of the trance your econ textbook had you in. Joshua stands to your right, two coffees in hand and his backpack over one shoulder. You smile at him and he sets the drinks down, away from any of your papers. “I figured you’d need something to keep you going.” A pretty smile, one that would have anyone’s heart fluttering.
Yours wasn’t excluded from that.
“I appreciate that, Joshua.” His bag drops to the floor, and he watches you for a few moments. He watches you spin the cup he’d set closer to you, tracing your nail across the lid while you highlight any information that stood out to you within the pages. There’s no discomfort between you two. There’s no elephant in the room. You know why he’s there, but you also know he’s not there for Jeonghan. He’s there for you.
“Are you…Are you doing okay?” Your eyes flick up to his again and you shrug.
“Good as I can be. You heard what he said. I know you did.” He nods slowly.
“Yeah…” You smile sadly.
“I should’ve known it, really.” Joshua’s head jerks back slightly, his eyes narrowing at you to try and figure out what you mean. “That he didn’t really care about me.”
“That’s not true, Y/N.” Joshua shakes his head and you shrug again.
“Sure it is. I mean…I don’t doubt that I was a form of comfort for him and that he grew attached, but at the end of the day I didn’t do much more than that. I was different. I was something that he wasn’t used to, and he liked that. Maybe that thought somehow convinced him he was in love with me but that’s…I don’t believe he did. Because if he loved me, why was he saying those things to my face? Why was he…why was he so cruel?”
Your eyes are beginning to sting with the presence of tears, and you use the sleeves of your shirt to wipe them away. Joshua watches you sadly and curiously. You want to laugh. Only a year ago, you’d been in a similar position with Jeonghan. Him crying under that stupid oak tree with you watching him and not saying anything.
“I don’t know, Y/N…I truly…” Joshua inhales and sinks back into his chair. “I wish I could give you some kind of explanation for the things he did. He’s…he’s always been a bit rough around the edges. He’s only started opening up to us because of you. Because you taught him that it’s okay to feel things like that.”
“I didn’t teach him shit.”
“That’s not true, baby.” He shuts his mouth when the name slips out, and he waits for you to correct him. When you don’t, he continues. “You taught him what it felt like to love someone, whether it was romantic or a form of obsession. You taught him that it was okay to cry. That it was okay to want things, to need things.”
“I’m not going to forgive him, Joshua.”
“I’m not asking you to.” He leans forward. “I’m asking you to see from his perspective why he said those things. I know that it’s no excuse. I know he should’ve just ignored you from the start if he knew he was gonna speak so horribly to you. But he didn’t, and that led to both of you getting hurt. I want you to just…Just try to understand a bit more about him, okay?”
You dig the nail of your thumb into the side of your index finger, ignoring the sting it sends through your nerves.
“I just wanted to help him.”
“I know, baby. I know.”
“Why did he…Why did I let this happen?”
“You didn’t do anything wrong. He just…he isn’t the easiest person in the world to get along with.” You try to laugh but it comes out in a quiet sob. You raise your hand to your mouth, biting into your skin to keep yourself quiet, and Joshua moves to the chair next to you. You let him pull you into his arms, one of his arms wrapping around your shoulders and the other running up and down your back. In the back of your mind, you wonder if this is why Jeonghan is so cruel. He never had anyone to truly comfort him. He never had someone to smother his doubts and worries, to give him a hug when he was struggling. You can’t help but wonder what he’d be like if he’d received that love. Would he have been kinder? Would he have loved you the way he repeatedly claimed to?
You don’t know. And, now, you don’t really want to.
~
“What did she say?” Jeonghan is pacing the span of his bedroom, biting the nail of his thumb until there’s practically nothing left to bite. Joshua sits in the middle of the older man’s bed, legs crossed and body leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees. “Was she mad? Did she ask to see me? Did she yell?” A hundred questions are running through Jeonghan’s mind, and Joshua attempts to keep up with the ones that manage to slip out of his lips.
“She wasn’t…mad, per se?” He’s questioning himself before he even begins. “She was more, like, sad. I think. She was sad and confused. Just like you! Man, you guys are perfect for each other!” He attempts a joke, but Jeonghan just scowls.
“You’re not funny, Hong Jisoo.”
“I know.”
“What else did she say?”
“She…She was really set on the fact that you chose her, of all people, to use. But she also knew from the start why. She wanted to help you, at first. To help you break out of the shell you’d created around yourself. And then she let it go too far and, well, here we are.”
“So she doesn’t forgive me?” Jeonghan leans against his dresser and tips his head back with a sigh. Joshua watches him carefully, gnawing on his lip in thought.
“Not yet, at least. I think you just… I think you need to put in the effort to fix things. I don’t think apologies are really gonna do anything anymore. Especially not with what happened last time you tried to fix things.”
“You’re still not funny.” Jeonghan hisses. Joshua scoffs and sits up straight.
“I wasn’t kidding. Han, you’re on a losing streak in terms of apologies. Every time you even try, you make things worse for yourself and for her. I want to help you, but if you keep fucking up then I can’t! I won’t sacrifice my friendship with her because you decided to be a fucking moron!”
Joshua’s voice echoes around the small bedroom, and Joshua throws his body back onto the mattress. He knows he shouldn’t have gotten himself involved in the situation. Knows he should’ve stayed away from you in the first place, no matter how drawn to you he was. But Jeonghan is his best friend. How can he leave his best friend to suffer like this while he prances around, flaunting the fact that he’s able to stay in Y/N’s life and Jeonghan isn’t?
That’s cruel. And no matter what Joshua thinks of his best friend at this moment, he won’t lower himself down to Jeonghan’s level. Not now, not ever.
“So what’s the plan?” Jeonghan is laying by Joshua’s head, his legs dangling off the edge of the mattress.
“Plan?” Joshua echoes, his head turning to look at the older man as best he can.
“You know, the plan to help me fix things?” Jeonghan frowns. “You do…have a plan…right?”
“Oh, yeah, for sure. Yeah, I have a plan.”
~
You walk into your lecture hall the next day, and there’s a muffin and coffee in front of your seat. Just plain black coffee and a chocolate chip muffin. Nothing special, except for the bright blue sticky note attached to the paper cup. Your first thought is that someone put it by the wrong spot, that it was for someone else that sits near you.
You lift the note a little, trying to find any clues as to who this could be for. A name for the recipient, a name from the sender. Anything. Fortunately, you find both. Scrawled in messy handwriting is a note for you.
It’s hard to ESPRESSO my feelings for you, sweetheart,
But MUFFIN compares to you <3
Enjoy the coffee and the muffin,
I know you have a lot of classes today
I love you.
~ JH
Your second thought of the day is to tear up the note and throw away everything he left on your desk. Anger and confusion are beginning to boil inside you, but you know you can’t let it show. Not when he walks in just moments later with Joshua and Seungcheol in tow. There’s no girl hanging off his arm this time. In fact, for the first time since he’s met you, he gives a smile and a small wave. You don’t return the actions, just sink into your seat and lower your head so you can’t possibly lock eyes with him so you won’t have to interact with him.
Unfortunately, he sits down right next to you. He doesn’t say anything to you. He just sits down and, shockingly, takes out his laptop and a notebook. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye but look toward the front of the room just moments later. He’s comfortable. You can tell just by the way he smiles and lets himself lean back in his chair. He’s usually sitting up straight, eyes straight forward and lips drawn into a line.
People are staring at the two of you. People are whispering, just quiet enough that you can’t hear what they’re saying about you. You imagine that they’re shocked, confused, and a bit upset that he chose you instead of them. If only they knew the extent of your relationship.
You wish that you could push him out of his chair, tell him to fuck off, and leave you again like you’d told him to only a few days prior.
But you can’t. Embarrassing the so-called king of the school would set you aside as a social outcast and you would likely be relentlessly harassed for the rest of your time here.
Instead, you choose to push the coffee and muffin aside and focus on the lecture up front. You ignore Jeonghan, and how he examines your side profile. You ignore how your stomach growls and the smell of the muffin is growing stronger. You won’t cave. Not to him. Not anymore.
~
The next day, you walk into your first class and there’s another muffin. Joshua sits in the chair beside yours, and he looks up with a smile when you approach.
“Someone left you something,” his tone is teasing while he pushes the wrapped treat toward you. You scoff and push it back toward him.
“I don’t want it. You have it.”
“He doesn’t want me to have it,” Joshua argues and shows you the little sticky note on the coffee. “Look! Words cannot ESPRESSO how much you BEAN to me, sweetheart! Isn’t that so cute?”
“I hate you. And I hate him too.” You drop your bag and slump forward. Joshua pushes both items in front of you one last time and rubs your back comfortingly. “I don’t understand him, Shua.”
“Eh, does anyone?” A sigh from you, but no response. You’re too tired to deal with this. Too tired to care that Joshua would absolutely be telling Jeonghan about his success. You take a sip of the coffee and your eyebrow arches. You’d never told Jeonghan your coffee order.
“How the fuck did he figure out what my favorite coffee order was?” You shoot an accusing glance at Joshua who just rolls his eyes.
“I didn’t tell him anything. Did it ever occur to you that maybe he paid as much attention to you as you did him?”
“No.” You say flatly. “He didn’t pay attention to me. He hated me, remember?” Joshua grimaces and you turn to the front of the room.
~
The week continues like that. Jeonghan would leave a coffee, a stupid note, and a muffin at your seat during your first class. If he shared that class with you, he sat right next to you. He tried to make conversation once, his voice and hands shaking while he did so. He was so nervous to just say hi, and you were cold in the way you shot him down. He didn’t waver, however. He kept that quiet, relaxed confidence up. You were almost impressed by how persistent he was.
Almost.
Friday night rolled around, and you were already on your way to the Sigma Tau frat to meet up with Joshua. You knew there would be a lot of people there, knew that too many students would be getting drunk off their asses before finals started on Monday. You weren’t going to exclude yourself. You knew you had friends to keep an eye on you, but you also knew how to pace yourself so you could have a good time but not put yourself in a potentially dangerous situation.
Still, though. You were nervous. Nervous that Jeonghan would corner you again and try to talk to you. You were nervous that you, in your soon-to-be inebriated state, would find it in you to forgive him for everything.
“Just stick with me,” Joshua reassured you. “I won’t let him bother you too much.”
“I’d prefer if you didn’t let him bother me at all,” you mutter and pull your skirt down slightly. It was still early May, so the lingering low temperatures of winter bit at your skin and raised goosebumps in its path.
“You know that I won’t be able to stop him from approaching you. He always finds a way, baby.” Joshua squeezes your waist while he guides you through the crowd. Already you can spot Jeonghan laughing with the other guys in the frat, drinking some ungodly concoction Vernon had thrown into his cup. Seungcheol spotted you first and subtly shifted his body to hide you from his friend’s view. “I can, however, keep him from finding you for a little bit.”
“You’re an angel, Shua.” You smile at him, and he throws a wink at you. “So what has our friend Vernon mixed up tonight?” You lean over the counter and Joshua stands across from you. People bump into you while they stumble by, some people already plastered and others trying to help their plastered friends.
“Something with a lot of tequila,” he points at one of the three large containers, “something with a lot of rum,” he points at the middle container, “and something with a little bit of every alcoholic drink we have. Just for fun.” He points at the final container
“Ooh, sounds…” you make a face and Joshua laughs.
“I know. But, you know Vernon, he likes experimenting.”
“I’ll bet.” You drum your fingers on the counter and point at the first container. “I’ll start with some of that…mixture?”
“Coming right up, babe.” Joshua grabs a cup for you and starts to get your drink. Both of you make a face at the odd red liquid that pours out, but your friend is quick to sniff it and take a small sip. “Good news, it isn’t poison!”
You take the cup from his hand and take a sip as well. A grimace passes over your face almost immediately.
“Bad news,” you clear your throat, “I’m gonna be absolutely off the walls from whatever he put in this.”
“Wasn’t that your goal?” Joshua comes up beside you again, that pretty smile of his making you blush a little bit. Under the purple lights, however, it’s nearly impossible to see the redness in your cheeks.
“You ask a lot of questions, Shua.”
“And yet you still give me the answers I want.” You shove his arm, but he hardly budges from his spot. He just smiles and laughs at your annoyed pout, and guides you back to where the crowd is growing thicker. Jeonghan sees you now, you know he does. His eyes are practically locked on you, his mouth practically hanging open. You see Seungcheol mouthing an apology from across the room, and you nod to acknowledge it.
You figured he’d find you at some point, you just didn’t think it would be so soon. You thought you would at least be tipsy. You hoped you would have been drunk.
But no.
You’re stone-cold sober, and he’s staring at you with this longing look in his eyes. You look away first, and Joshua frowns.
“He found you?”
“Yeah.”
“Surprised he didn’t immediately come over here and start kissing your feet and begging you for forgiveness.” You both watch a girl approach Jeonghan, and Joshua gasps loudly when he pushes the girl away. You can tell Jeonghan said something harsh to her, just based on the way she quickly runs back in the direction she came from to hide in her group of friends.
“Jesus, that was cold,” you remark. Joshua hums.
“I told you, he isn’t interested in anyone else but you.”
“Not this again, Shua.” You groan and let your head fall back.
“I’m just saying—”
“Just stop! It isn’t…I won’t do this again!” Joshua stands his ground this time, staring down at you with stern eyes and crossed arms.
“I’m not saying that you need to forgive him immediately and start fucking him again.” You scowl.
“Then what do you want me to do, Shua?”
“I want you to just…start over? I guess? Just start over with him. Reintroduce yourselves, and forget your whole history together. Start as friends, or fucking date, or whatever works for you. Just…just don’t do this shit where you guys— and not just you, because this wasn’t your fault. I don’t want you to think I’m blaming you because I’m not— just don’t force us all to choose between you and him, because that would end up hurting more people than necessary. I don’t care if you talk and decide to be anything to each other, just don’t let this go any farther.”
~
The lights have become blinding, the music deafening. A headache is beginning to form, creating an ache behind your eyes. You lost sight of Joshua hours ago, although you don’t doubt he’s with the other boys in the frat. Odds are, he’s gotten himself drunk and forgotten all about his promise to not leave you alone. You don’t mind though, you’ve grown comfortable in your little corner of the room, out of sight and away from the eyes of the other partygoers. Your plans of getting drunk are long forgotten, now thinking too hard about what Joshua told you.
“Have you seen Jeonghan?” Mingyu stands in front of you, a drink in his hand and his teeth gnawing on his lip.
“No, not since earlier. Why?” You look up at Mingyu, your lips twisted into a puzzled frown.
“He’s been missing for, like, an hour. Nobody’s seen him apparently. Figured I’d ask you since you’d been staring at him for three hours.” You scoff at the comment and cross your arms.
“I wasn’t staring at him.”
“Oh, I’m sure.” Mingyu nods as if he believes you, but you know good and well that he doesn’t, and he doesn’t really care either. “Anyway, last we heard is that he was drunk off his ass and trying to talk to you, I think. I dunno. Something about a mental breakdown?”
Your throat began to close, but you forced yourself to speak again.
“I have no idea where he is, Mingyu, and I don’t plan on searching for him.” That’s a lie. You both know it just based on the way your eyes flick toward the back door and your teeth gnaw on the corner of your lip. A small, almost pitying smile crosses the tall frat boy’s lips.
“Well, if you see him, tell him that we’re waiting for him to play pong.”
“Will do.” He tries to slip through the crowd, but his bulky frame bumps into several different guests, which causes him to spew out a variety of different apologies until he makes it to the dirty plastic table that had been set up on the other side of the room.
You know you shouldn’t find him. Every instinct in you is screaming for you to just stay where you are, find Joshua, or just leave the house. But a small piece of you, something so minuscule you almost don’t feel it, is asking you to please find him. Make sure he’s okay. Don’t let him suffer on his own again as if you hadn’t been suffering on your own for months. Years, even.
You stare down at the drink in your cup, the ice in it now melted to create a watered-down tequila mixture. You know you won’t drink it. Know that it won’t do anything to provide you with the courage you need to do this.
~
The music is muffled now that you’re outside, but your ears are ringing from the sudden change in noise level. You’re shocked to see no one out here. Usually, there’s a bit of a crowd trying to escape the noise and have a quiet conversation. You’d think that more would be out here just to enjoy the weather after a brutally cold winter.
But there’s no one.
Probably ideal for the conversation you’re about to have.
You inhale quietly, staring at the oak tree that’s barely twenty feet from where you stand. The branches have begun to grow leaves, shielding anyone who might be under it. Shielding Jeonghan, who you know is tucked behind the trunk and isolating himself. That’s what the two of you would always do if you wanted to get away from the noise. One of you would sneak out of the house, out of the view of the guests, and tuck yourselves behind the tree. The other would join a few minutes after. It didn’t matter which of you wanted to leave, somehow both of you ended up under the tree at the end of every party, waiting for everyone to go home or go to bed.
“Jeonghan?” Your voice comes out quieter than you intend it to, but it’s enough to get his attention. You see his head lean to the side, almost laying completely on his shoulder. His dark strands of hair fall to one side of his head, a shine catching on them from the lights of the house. “What are you doing out here?”
“Getting away from the party.” His voice isn’t slurred, which is a good sign. He’s probably had a few drinks but nothing to keep him from talking to you. “Too loud in there these days. They’re gonna go deaf.”
“They’ll be fine. Are you okay?” You don’t sit beside him. You don’t make any moves to be anywhere but five feet in front of him, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. You wait for the discomfort of the situation to set in, but it doesn’t.
Not yet, anyway.
“Peachy.” You can see a cup of something next to him, pressed between two large tree roots. “You?” He doesn’t look at you. Not in the eyes, anyway. He’s scanning your body from head to toe, likely trying to figure out if you’re actually with him.
“Let’s get you back inside. The boys want to play pong and they need you in there.” You avoid the simple question. When you look at him again, he looks…sad. Broken, really. You stick your hand out for him to take, and he looks at it with furrowed eyebrows.
You stay like that for a few moments. He sits against the trunk of the tree, staring at your outstretched hand thoughtfully. You stand a few feet away from him, your arm beginning to ache and the air beginning to bite at your skin.
“Remember the first thing I said to you?” He finally asks. You drop your hand and sigh.
“You called me pathetic.”
“I called you weak.” he corrects. “There’s a difference.”
“Not a big one.” He rolls his eyes.
“Do you know why I said that?” Your heart is beginning to ache. You know he’s going to tell you all the reasons he hated you as if you weren’t aware of them already. “Because I was jealous of you.”
“You were jealous?” Your nose scrunches and you move closer to him, out of pure curiosity. He watches you take a seat next to him, flinches when your arms brush together. “Why?”
“Because you were everything I wasn’t.”
“Right, because you weren’t free to feel things.” Your neck cracks when you turn to look at him. Jeonghan laughs and nods.
“I guess so, if you wanna make me sound like a robot.”
“You might as well be.”
“Don’t be rude.”
“I think I’ve earned this.” He goes quiet, and you wonder if you’ve said the wrong thing. If you took it a step further than you should have, and now he’s going to hate you and your whole friend group will be forced to pick sides, just like Joshua said would happen.
“You think too much,” he’s looking at you now and when you lock eyes, he doesn’t look away.
“Maybe.”
“I always kinda liked that about you. The way you think about everything. But sometimes you think too much, and you get lost down this rabbit hole that no one can pull you out of.”
“I mean if you put it like that…”
“Don’t go thinking on me now,” he nudges you and you smile. “Don’t wanna have a conversation with a brick wall.”
“Oh ha ha,” you pick at the skin around your thumbnail and lean your head against the bark of the tree. “Isn’t it weird how…even with everything that happened, you’re still the person I’m most comfortable with?”
“What about Joshua?” Jeonghan sounds bitter, but you know he isn’t. He knows you would never like Joshua, at least not how you like him.
“Nah, he doesn’t get me like you do.”
“Careful now, you almost sound like you love me.” still. You almost sound like you love me still. You know that’s what he wants to say, with the way he cuts himself off like he was punched in the gut. The way his eyes water just slightly, and when the light hits them just right it looks like they’re shining brighter than the stars above the two of you.
“Oh, wouldn’t that be a scandal?” Your voice is soft now, and neither of you laughs this time. There’s a sad cloud floating above you two, waiting to pour down rain and drench the two of you.
“I really am sorry, sweetheart.” Your heart swells when he says that. Your throat closes up once more and you have to take a moment before you speak. “I didn’t mean anything that I said to you that day.”
“You did, though.” He opens his mouth to argue but you place your hand on his knee to stop him. “You did mean it, you just…didn’t exactly intend to say it. Yes, it hurt to hear it out loud for the first time. Yes, I hate you for saying it and confirming what I already knew. But…it isn’t necessarily your fault. I mean, it is, but also it isn’t. You can’t help that you were raised like that. You can’t help that you resented me for being able to feel what you wanted to. You didn’t…you didn’t receive the same love as I did when I was growing up, and that isn’t your fault. What is your fault is how…you didn’t tell me anything. I had to find out from people around us why you hated me so much. I had to find out from Joshua that…that you did love me, you just didn’t know how to show it or prove it.”
“I know, sweetheart, and I’m so sorry.” A tear slips from his eye and you smile when you wipe it away. Your hand lingers, and he presses his cheek into your palm. You feel him exhale a warm breath of air and his eyes shut.
“I know you are. And I want to forgive you, Hannie, I do. It’s just…it’s going to take some time.”
“I know,” he place his hand over yours and squeezes lightly. “I know it will.”
A comfortable silence washes over you, and you feel a cold breeze wash over your skin. Your body trembles from the cold and Jeonghan frowns at you.
“Why didn’t you bring a jacket?”
“To be fair, I thought I’d be inside the whole time and it gets very warm in there.” Jeonghan scoffs and starts to remove his jacket, despite your quiet protests.
“You need to start bringing a sweatshirt or something to keep you warm. You know we come out here a lot, so why didn’t you think of this?” He scolds you, forcing you to slip your arms into his jacket while he does. It’s a few sizes too big for you and the sleeves go fast past your hands, but you don’t mind. It’s warm, and comforting, and honestly you might not return it to him.
“I’m sorry.” You lean your head on his shoulder, and he stiffens for a moment. “I’m sorry for not understanding.”
“You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. You did nothing wrong. Your lack of understanding is my fault, and mine alone. I didn’t…I just didn’t trust you enough, which I see was a mistake.” His hand rises to touch the back of your head, his fingers rubbing where your hair has been tied and relieving the ache that had begun to form. You feel him starting to relax against you, his shoulders sinking and his legs slipping down to lay flat across the grass. You hear a door open behind you, and a few laughs. On instinct, you start to pull away, but Jeonghan’s grip tightens, keeping you secured to him.
You expect him to make a comment. You almost want him to.
Instead he looks toward the sky, partially blocked by the low-hanging branches and smiles.
“The stars are pretty tonight, aren’t they?” You lift your head to look at him. He keeps his eyes facing forward, but the hand he has in your hair slips down to your shoulder and he draws you into him.
You smile before you respond.
“Yeah, I guess they are.”
If we can walk this path together again
I want to hold your hands and give you warmth
If I hold your cheeks with warmed hands
Will you smile again for me?
~
TAGLIST: @woofie-nctzen-fanarts-320 @dearlyjin @joenghaniee @mikachu-chu @listxn @youre-on-your-ownkid @ti--red @springdaybreaks @momoxxchewz @rum-gone-why @everyoneluvscheol @dr3aluv5 @shiningstar-byulxx @preets-kpop-world @fragmentof-indifference @stfuayu @fanfic24
#itsbeeble#itsbeeble masterlist#kpop#kpop imagines#kpop angst#kpop fluff#kpop smut#seventeen#seventeen imagines#seventeen angst#seventeen fluff#yoon jeonghan#seventeen jeonghan#jeonghan x reader#seventeen x reader#jeonghan smut#jeonghan fluff#jeonghan angst#yoon jeonghan x reader#yoon jeonghan angst#yoon jeonghan smut#yoon jeonghan fluff
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post 10/7 jewish culture is straight up no longer believing your goyische friends actually like you and are in for the long haul. immediately after 10/7 I lost a few people who were disgusting assholes, but ever since then my goyische friends on this website have been slowly "un-friending" me (unfollowing, soft-blocking, and blocking). I'll have other goy friends who stuck around this long say nice things about me, compliment my fics, my blog, and even me, and I just... don't believe it. I know that's a common social anxiety fear, but I never struggled with social anxiety that badly. if you asked me if I thought my internet friends really liked me last september I would've said yes and meant it. but now, after months and months of my friends dropping like flies (and I almost NEVER lost mutuals before 10/7, not in almost 4 years on this website), I don't really believe them. I just can't. I'm waiting for them to realize they don't want to put up with my jewish ass anymore.
I've decided to stop talking about i/p because of this... I'll see posts on my dash (like from jewishlivesmatter) which I think are good and I wanna put on my blog, but I feel like every post about it pushes my goyische friends a little further away, a little closer to the block/unfollow button, so I'm just... not. I used to be scared to talk about i/p, from may 2021 when I learned just how antisemitic most goyim were because of the riots, to oct 7. but now I no longer fear getting doxx'd or getting swarmed with anon hate. I just know that talking about it is the number one way for Jews to lose friends.
"do you even want to be friends with these people?" yes. if I held goyim to the standard of i/p opinions I think everyone ought to have, I'd have no goyische friends. at this point as long as they agree that hamas is a terror org and a 2-state solution is best, I'm down to keep being friends, because even that is a godsend for people my age (20s).
it's even started to affect me in real life. the other day I had a talk with a goysiche friend of 15 years about i/p (knowing where they stood, obviously, by this point). we got into a mild argument, but they had stuff to do so we had to stop. I sent them an unrelated text an hour later, and when I got radio silence for the rest of the day (our argument was in the morning) a part of me genuinely believed that was it for us and braced for losing an irl friend who means so much to me and I thought was going to be in my life until one of us dies. they'd be in my wedding party. we've penciled in figuring out some honorific my future kids can use for them instead of aunt/uncle because they're nonbinary. I caved and texted them to make sure we're still friends, and they said yes, thank fucking gd, because otherwise I might've just had a full mental breakdown.
anyone else waiting for their remaining goyische friends to leave them?
.
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Bakugou Katsuki’s Daily Shenanigans!
Season 2!
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Chapter 1: Relationship 101 with Bakugou Katsuki!
Summary: Bakugou Katsuki fell in love and he hates it. He hates the fluttery feeling in his stomach, he hates how his chest feels when he looks at you, ha hates how his heart starts pounding in his chest every time you leave a tiny kiss on his cheek; Bakugou Katsuki is 100% sure he’s allergic to his girlfriend.
In this story, Bakugou Katsuki learns how to be in a relationship. For the first time in his life he’s struggling to get the thing right, but thankfully, he has the most caring and understanding girlfriend the world has ever seen. That doesn’t mean he’s not getting smacked in the head a few times though. There is a reason why his girlfriend’s nickname is ‘the Menace.’
This season can be read as a stand-alone, but I highly recommend you to start at the beginning to actually understand the story properly!
Tags: Established relationship, aged up characters, fluff, comedy
Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader
Other minor background ships: TodoDeku, KamiJirou (they are married in this AU), Kirishima has a crush on an unknown lady working in a coffee shop 🌚
General warnings for this season: Swear words, highly suggestive, possibly sexual content (haven’t decided yet), mentions of sexual topics, potential mentions of injuries and fights etc.
18+ for safety! New warnings on every chapter.
Also, the writer of the story is a foreigner, so don’t kill her if she makes a mistake, thank you 🩷
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Want to start from the beginning?
Click here for Season 1!
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Mr. Katsuki doesn’t give a fuck about romance.
He doesn’t understand why do people need to be so disgustingly cheesy with each other, he doesn’t understand what’s so good about being in love and he definitely doesn’t understand how did he end up in a committed relationship.
Yes, Bakugou Katsuki, 25 years old Number 2 pro hero is in fucking love and he hates every single minute of it.
He hates it.
So much.
So-so much.
The cuddles? Nah. It gives him all these fluttery-jittery shitty feelings and his heart is probably allergic to it because there is no way it should beat that quickly.
The kisses? Well, they don’t have too much of an experience in that yet as the first time they kissed Katsuki didn’t kiss back as he was too busy having a mental breakdown, then their next kiss was so heated he almost did some unspeakable things to his brand new girlfriend and he had to run home to take care of his misbehaving “friend” and take a really cold shower to stop himself for running back to the office… and that was a terrible experience. Then this whole lovey-dovey thing got awkward. He has no idea what the fuck is he doing and every time he decides to kiss Y/N, his heart wants to explode and he doesn’t want to die so… he’s not doing it.
The sex? Well… they are not there yet but even the thought of it makes Mr. Katsuki insane. In a bad way, of course.
Of course…
Also! No one fucking told him you can get addicted to a person. Love should be illegal. This is terrible. Mr. Katsuki can barely sleep during the night because his fucking mind can’t stop thinking about The Menace and about all the things he… would probably absolutely hate doing. Like cuddling in bed. Or making out until the morning. Or doing other stuff until the morning then call in sick to work, because they are old and their backs hurt. Disgusting. Just disgusting.
Mr. Katsuki is definitely sick in the head. This is all nonsense. He’s not going into his office to be the best hero anymore, but to see Y/N in his shitty oversized hoodies and daydream about her wearing his hoodies instead.
Okay, what the fuck, no.
Fucking no.
Mr. Katsuki hates everyone and everything right now but the one he hates the most is…
“You fucking Menace, get out of my fucking head, I can’t sleep because of you!” Mr. Katsuki yells at his significant other on this lovely Thursday morning.
Ahh, she’s so fucking cute before her first coffee, what the fuck. She looks so confused, Katsuki really wants to kiss her senseless.
Wait, what?
“Aww, that was so fucking cheesy, what the fuck.”
… Nevermind, the urge is gone.
“It wasn’t a compliment, you dipshit!” Katsuki yells again with a face red as a tomato.
“I’ll just act offended then, but can I have my coffee now?”
Y/N comes way too close for Bakugou’s liking. Is it really necessary to stand so close to him? It gives his heart a hard time. Being allergic to your girlfriend sucks.
“Who said it’s yours?” The blonde retorts. Maybe he just wanted to bring his best friend a coffee. Or have two coffees.
“It’s mine now.” The Menace puts her mouth on Mr. Katsuki’s cheek, which makes his heart act up again. She snatches the coffee out of his hand while he’s distracted and sits back down happily to finish her paperwork.
Mr. Katsuki hates The Menace. So-so much.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Kirishima is really happy for his best friend, but he is also mentally scarred.
It was only a few days ago when he accidentally walked in on his best friend and his assistant having a heated sparring session with their tongues; he will never forget seeing Y/N’s hands almost completely down Katsuki’s pants while his blonde bestie was busy squeezing the shit out of her thighs on his office desk.
Now look, Kirishima knows this is his fault; he’s the one who hired Y/N just to keep himself entertained, knowing the two will be at each other’s throats most of the time, making a mess in the office as they both have the same personality and none of them knows how to back down. It really has started as a really expensive joke. What Kirishima didn’t expect was to watch those two fall for each other in the middle of their heated arguments. It was so fucking obvious yet so unbelievable, but Kirishima then decided to push them to their limits and actually made it happen; he came up with the stupid idea of closing the two in the same hotel room for a few days for a mission, but Kirishima’s joke almost cost both of their lives; the suspect ended up to be Y/N’s biggest enemy who’s been waiting to get revenge on her for arresting his gang buddies a few years ago.
Long story short, the drama escalated, Katsuki got quirked with a quirk called “Anguish” which basically made him extremely depressed and suicidal for a day and he was saved by a massive bitch slap and a ferocious kiss by the love of his life; kinda like in the cheesy romantic movies Kirishima adores. Kirishima is absolutely not jealous. Not at all.
Also, Y/N became a great friend to Kirishima during her employment; she’s a fierce, honest woman from abroad, beautiful, proud and intelligent. She’s also an amazing (currently) ex-hero who got wounded in a massive fight for her country and had to step down completely after almost losing her life. She was bedridden for months, unable to eat, shower or do anything alone and even after getting better she was forced to stay far away from actual hero work for a while, hence why she decided to join a hero agency as an assistant; this kept her close to her dream in a safe way and also let her live in her favorite country.
Kirishima will never forget Bakugou’s face when he realized Y/N was the number one hero of her country while Katsuki was stuck at number 2 thanks to Deku. They had a spar which ended up being more like a foreplay than an actual battle but Y/N won anyway; she has the most OP quirk the world has ever seen. She can activate any quirk she can come up with and alternate it in any way or use multiple quirks at once if she concentrates on them enough. Like what the fuck man, that’s cheating.
So yeah, Y/N is a great friend of Kirishima and he’s really happy for his friends but he will never get over Katsuki’s horny face that’s for sure.
But…
After that one incident on their first day of being a couple, the two… well… they went back to their normal selves. And Kirishima is really bloody confused.
“The fuck are you yapping about you fucking extra?!” Katsuki yells, his eyes piercing through the skull of this poor guy who works as a side kick at the agency. Kirishima can’t lie, Mizuto isn’t his favorite guy either, he’s sensitive and overdramatic but he hid it really well at the interview. Kirishima hates himself for putting these two in the same meeting room instead of doing two separate meetings, one with the bosses (and Y/N) and one with the extras, as Katsuki likes to call them.
“I’m saying that your leading techniques are harsh and rude and I don’t appreciate you talking down on me!” He yells and Katsuki stands up; he gets pulled back to his chair by Y/N.
“Shut the fuck up, the both of you, I have a migraine!”
“Then go the fuck home…” Katsuki can’t finish his sentence as Y/N randomly creates a spray bottle full of water and sprays the hero on the side of his face; the way some stupid people do with cats when they misbehave. Letting Y/N meet Momo Yaozoru was another terrible mistake of Kirishima’s. Katsuki does not appreciate the gesture and throws an explosion at Y/N but she deflects it with a mirroring quirk; Katsuki moves away and the explosion hits the window and blasts through it.
Great. They need to change the windows again. Kirishima really thought that with these two getting together, all the aggression will fade away but apparently that’s not the case; are they even together or did they just have a moment which Kirishima awkwardly interrupted? Kirishima was sure they are a couple, especially as none of them moved away from each other when he found them in each other’s arms.
He needs to investigate.
After the meeting and a phone call to the maintenance - they don’t even ask questions anymore, they just give them a full day long appointment because they know them so well by now - Kirishima asks Katsuki to come to his office for a quick “catch up”. Katsuki does not appreciate being called into the office like a fucking extra, especially as they are supposed to be co-leading the agency but Kiri only smiles in Katsuki’s pouting face.
“Bro, I just called you here to gossip. I wanted to know what happened after I left that day.” Kirishima winks and Katsuki looks away with a massive blush on his face. He’s fucking adorable.
“Nothing. I went home.” Honestly, this guy is a pain in the ass. Why can’t he take a hint?!
“So… did you kiss since?”
“No.”
“Uhm…” Kirishima wonders what the fuck should he say to that. ‘Did you fuck’ just doesn’t sound right. “So you two are not…?” Kirishima can’t finish the sentence as an explosion hits his face. He should have seen that coming. His eyes sting now.
“Do you have a crush on my girlfriend or what?!” Katsuki yells and Kirishima grins; it takes a few seconds for the blonde to realize what he’d just said; his face contorts into a frown and sits back, mumbling profanities to no one in particular.
“I got all the information I wanted. You are dismissed. Congratulations!” Kirishima’s shit eating grin can be seen even from the moon, that’s how massive it is.
Ahh, young love.
“Fuck you.” Katsuki mumbles and leaves the office, almost breaking his door for the 700th time. Ahh, never mind, the maintenance guys will probably have a spare with them anyway.
~•💥•~
You are on your last few bits of paperwork when a bewildered Katsuki comes into your shared office.
“What.”
Katsuki throws himself into his chair, he rolls around like a kid, left to right then in circles before he answers. He’s so fucking adorable. Goddamnit.
“Kirishima is in my ass, asking stupid questions about you.” He pouts and you laugh; Katsuki doesn’t like to be laughed at so he sends a tiny spark towards you, not even strong enough to travel to the right destination.
“I can help you forget the conversation.” You wink jokingly, but your boyfriend only rolls his eyes. There is a slight a blush on his face he can’t really hide, but by the look of it, he doesn’t want to anyway.
“Which part of ‘taking it slow’ do you not understand, you bloody woman?” Katsuki yells but there is no edge to his voice; for anyone else this would sound offensive, but for you, it just sounds pained; he’s clearly still getting used to all of this and while you can barely stop yourself from kissing him senseless every day, you can absolutely understand him.
“I know. I won’t do anything you don’t want. Calm down.” You murmur, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible to not freak your brand new boyfriend out.
“I’ve never said I don’t want it. I just want to take it slow.”
Well, that sentence went straight between your legs. No one can judge you for being like that after dancing around each other for literal months. It’s the honeymoon phase. It will pass.
“C’mere.” Katsuki grunts and you jump up from your desk to walk towards your boyfriend. He manhandles you into his lap while snuggling his face into your chest and sighs. You can only hope he can’t feel the way you shivered all over from the hotness of his breath.
“Better?” You ask, faking nonchalance.
“No, I hate it. Makes me feel all tingly wiggly and shit. Relationships suck.” He murmurs and you can’t stop the laugh bubbling up in your chest.
“Yeah, me too. I hate it so much. It’s terrible.” You bite your lips to stop yourself from laughing and the blonde looks up at you, arching his eyebrows in disapproval.
“Don’t make that face. I hate it.” He grumbles, but you can see how his eyes light up as he looks down; he licks his lips while staring at yours but he doesn’t move towards you; you really want to tackle this man and kiss some sense into him. “Now go away, I need to finish the paperwork.”
Well, you are dismissed now! You go back to your desk, giggling to yourself like a lovesick teenager; he’s so fucking cute. Oh my god, since when are you such a sap?!
“How long will you be staring at me?” Katsuki mumbles begrudgingly.
“I can do this all day.”
He tries his best to look offended but you can’t miss the way his mouth quirks up as he shamelessly ignores you for the rest of the day.
Well, this will be a long run but fuck if it’s not worth it for those small smiles only you can see.
Maybe one day, it won’t be so hard to initiate contact with him. One day, you might be able to give him a kiss without being told off for it. That day is not today though but that’s fine; he can take as much time as he needs because you’ll be there, waiting for him. If you need to, you’ll wait for him forever.
“Thanks… Y/N.” He mumbles with a red face but doesn’t look up from his laptop; you smile to yourself and doesn’t answer; you don’t need to. He knows you well enough to know what your answer would be anyway.
You really love this fucking madman.
…Next chapter!
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Potato ramble:
- Welcome to the ‘potato ramble’ section of the ficc. This is where are I talk to myself while you roll your eyes at home thinking ‘I ain’t got time for your shit, fella.” I’ll ramble about the story or about a random things you don’t want to/need to know about the writer. I’ll try to behave.
- Sorry if there’s barely anything new in this chapter, this is more like a chapter 0 than a chapter one and it also gives you a brief recap in case you have the brain capacity of a goldfish as I do and you forget the main story by the time you get to the second season. Yeah, sorry. I hope you still enjoyed it though!
- The “I can do this all day” bit was a Captain America reference.
- If there’s anything you want to see in this ficc, let me know and I might use your idea!
- About the potential cheekiness in the ficc… please tell me what do you prefer. Brief mentions of their cheeky deeds? Detailed first time? Nothing? Potatoes? French fries or mashed? Or should I just write about Katsuki’s pigeon, Steve? Tell me your thoughts because I honestly don’t know what I want to do. 😂
- YES, I’m sleep deprived right now, how did you know?!
- I’ll shut up for today, I think I confused you enough for one day. Have a lovely week!
Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! 💥
~•💥•~
Taglist: @iwannahaveaprettyaesthetic @hanatsuki-hime @cloroxisadelectabletreat @cheesenmax @coffeent @smolsleepybat @sixxze
(If you’ve been tagged but it’s not working, check your settings because I couldn’t tag you for some reason 😭)
#bnha x reader#mha x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugo katsuki x reader#bakugou x self insert#bakugo x you#shenanigansbypurplepotato#bakugo x reader#bakugou katsuki#soft bakugou
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A Busy Christmas Season - Tom Holland
Hi hope you enjoy reading this :) thank you! Requests are open and I hope to start writing more soon. Happy holidays!
Tom Holland x Reader [Angst with Happy ending/Fluff]
Warnings: Cursing, crying, breakdown
Word Count: 2.7k
-
Your eyes widened at the list of preparations for the Christmas party at your work and the other list of Christmas gifts you had to find and buy for your family and friends. And then there was the fact, that your boss decided that you could handle a bit more work with this new assignment that had you researching about celebrities and their favorite restaurants.
Fuck, this was a lot of work for this week. You shouldn’t have waited this long to buy the gifts for your family and friends, but you were waiting for your paycheck that came earlier today, since you didn’t want to dip into your savings account.
You sighed as you put your keys into your car, making sure you had everything with you – your purse, your work laptop, wallet, and phone. You glanced down to your phone as you put your seatbelt on, seeing the screensaver with you and Tom, the picture making you smile briefly. Tom was over at his friend’s place at the moment, so he had no idea that you were going to run some errands for Christmas and work.
You had sung along to the music on your playlist as you drove to a shopping center to buy the supplies for the Christmas party at work and hopefully find some gifts for your friends and family. You groaned as you realized there was traffic on the way there.
By the time you got there, you wasted an extra hour sitting in traffic! It seemed that other people were also Christmas shopping this week, but it still was annoying to deal with, especially when you were on schedule today.
You rushed into the store, grabbing the supplies for the work party, throwing in some extra snacks and drinks. You bought it with the company credit card, sighing in relief when it went through without any trouble.
You ran into another store, buying one of your friends a pair of shoes they said they wanted before. Then found some funny gag gifts for Tom, laughing slightly as you put it in the cart. Then you found a sweet bracelet for another friend, gift cards for a few family members to their favorite places. You got Tom’s family some cozy blankets for the chilly season and a family friendly board game, since you knew they loved playing those.
Finally, the only person you had left to buy a gift for was Tom himself. Sure, you got a few gag gifts for him, but you wanted to get something to show how much you loved him and appreciated him this Christmas.
Checking the time on your phone, you groaned loudly as a surge of panicked stress came up. You only had two hours to bring the supplies to your work and you had to finish that assignment that you hadn’t had time to work on! You quickly bought everything and rushed to your car, accidentally running your cart into the back of someone else’s car as they were backing up.
You gasped as you pulled the cart back, looking at the big scratch and small dent it made on the car. The person honked at you, and you squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, cursing your luck as the person came out of his car, screaming at you.
“How could you not look where you were going, you freak?! Do you know you’re not supposed to be running in a parking lot?!” He yelled, waving his hands to you.
You sighed, “I’m so sorry, what’s your name and phone number? And your insurance? I’ll try my best to fix this as fast as I can, but I need to leave right now.”
He shook his head, “You’re not leaving here until I get video evidence that this happened. We’re going into the store over there to get the evidence. I’m not about to be scammed by a stupid girl like you.”
You rolled your eyes, “I’m not going to scam you? What made you think I was?” Your attitude slipped, and the man’s eyes widened at you.
“There it is, right there, your generation’s behavior is disgusting to its elders. How horrible. I bet you enjoy disrespecting everyone and being a degenerate.” He scoffed at you.
You breathed in deeply, holding back your fuming anger and stress. “You can go into the store. I’m going to let you take a picture of my ID and phone number, because I’m leaving now. And you’re not dragging me into a mess right now, because I already have so much else to do, understand?”
He coughed in shock at your response, “So horrifying to see this behavior in today’s society. I worked so hard for your generation to enjoy its freedom. Now pull out your ID, young lady.”
You rolled your eyes at him and pulled out everything, practically shoving it his way so he could take pictures of it. He even took a picture of your face, close up, saying he needed the evidence in case he wanted to take you to court.
As you finally left the parking lot, you almost sped to your workplace. Once you got there, you took a seat in your office with the supplies in your hands. You looked around in confusion, wondering where your notepad was with all the extra details you needed for your assignment.
“Anyone see my notepad?” You called out, ignoring the fact that you could hear your stress in your voice.
“Patricia threw it out, said it wasn’t festive enough and that you don’t use it.” Your coworker came up to you, glancing into your office.
“What? She did what?” You groaned out, “It had everything I needed! It was a new notepad!”
“Go ask Patricia where she threw it out.” He shrugged back to you. You breathed in deeply, trying to calm your anger and stress.
“Fine. I will.” You spoke softly but anger filled your tone. Patricia was in the break room, sipping some coffee as you walked in. You asked where your notepad was, and she said the janitor already threw the trash out for today and it was out in the back of the building probably. She apologized to you shortly before adding, “You never used it, how was I supposed to know?”
“Maybe don’t go into my office when I’m not there?” You sarcastically shot back. She gasped at your tone, and you ignored it and paced to the garbage cans to the back of the building.
By the time you got back, you were trying to stop yourself from crying and had trash sticking to parts of your outfit. You smelled disgusting, and you felt even worse. Your boss walked up to you and cleared her throat, “You’re needed in my office as soon as possible.”
You nodded shakily, putting your notebook on your desk, and walked with her to her office. “Is this about the office party? I have the supplies at my desk.” You asked her, feeling anxious at the look she sent you.
“No. This is about your attitude to your coworkers. One of them – anonymously, came into my office and begged me to reprimand you for your behavior. They said something about the way you were angry about what they did and that you were mean to them. I have never heard of something like this from you, I’m disappointed. I’m handing your assignment off to William since he has a kinder approach to his coworkers, compared to you at the moment. Check yourself before you come to work again. This will not be acceptable again, this is your official warning.” She lectured you.
You did your best to hold in your gasp and your cries, and nodded silently and left the room. You quickly rushed to your office, and unceremoniously dumped the supplies for the office party in the break room. You stared at Patricia’s coffee mug in the sink, grabbed it and took it with you as you left the office.
You drove home with one hand on the steering wheel and the other hand gripping tightly on Patricia’s ugly coffee mug.
Once you got home, you slammed the door shut and fell to the floor sobbing hard.
“Stupid Patricia, you weirdo. I hope you trip on a fucking Lego.” You sobbed out, clutching the mug in your hands. You didn’t hear Tom approaching you from the kitchen. He gazed at you with full concern and worry.
“Baby?” He called out.
“And – and – old mean man, what the fuck? I hope your license gets taken away.” You sobbed out, hitting your head back against the door repeatedly, not hearing Tom.
“This is all my fault, fuck.” You cried out, dropping the mug to the floor, thankfully not cracking it. Your eyes were squeezed shut and sobs huffed out of your throat.
“Darling! What’s going on?” Tom spoke up louder, dropping on the floor next to you and curling his arms around you, pulling you into his embrace.
“Tom?” you sobbed out, digging your head into neck, trying to breath in without crying again but you couldn’t stop your sobbing.
He rubbed your back with one of his hands and brought the other to the back of your head. He stroked it softly, whispering sweet things to you, “It’s going to be okay, baby. Shh, listen to my voice. You’ve got it, honey.”
You continued to sob for a while until you felt exhausted. The cries slowly turned into sniffles as you slowly blinked into his neck, “I got snot on you…” You whimpered quietly.
“Oh baby, it’s okay. Do you wanna talk about it?” He mumbled back to you, kissing your forehead as he brought you close to him.
“No, not now.” You felt another tear slip and you rolled your eyes, “It’s stupid. Fuck, I still got to get the gifts out of the car.”
“No, it’s not stupid and no, you’re not getting stuff out of the car right now baby. You’re going to go take a bath right now.” He responded to you. He picked you up and you sleepily cuddled into his arms, not refusing him.
“I’m tired.” You yawned as he set you on the bed softly. He hummed back to you with soft eyes looking down at your body. He noticed some of the trash on your outfit, and picked it off, a bit confused, but he didn’t bring it up.
He helped you take your shirt off first, and then your pants, and then the rest of your clothing. You shivered softly and he pulled a blanket on top of you, then rushed to the bathroom and started a warm bath. He lit some of your favorite calming candles and put some lavender bubble bath into the water.
When he walked back into the bedroom, you were slipping to sleep and he smiled down at you, sitting next to you on the bed. He pressed kisses on your face, waking you up just slightly.
“Baby, I’m going to take you to the bath now, is that okay?” He whispered to you, watching as you nodded back to him a yes. He picked you up, holding you close as the blanket fell to the floor from your body. You breathed in deeply, close to his neck again, just enjoying the fact that he was here with you and that he was holding you close.
“Mm, you smell good.” You murmured, and Tom smiled down at you. He slowly placed you into the full bathtub, with a fluffy towel on the edge where he put your neck and head.
“Yeah? I’m wearing the cologne you got me for my birthday.” He whispered back to you, smiling as you blinked slowly at him, waking up a bit.
You looked around, slipping back into awareness, “Oh, Tom…” Your eyes started to tear up and Tom quickly slipped his hand underwater, squeezing yours.
“Aw baby, don’t cry, it’s okay now.” He mumbled to you, kissing your cheek softly.
You pouted at him, eyes still watering, “You’re so sweet, I love you so much.” You sniffled, and he grinned at you, pressing a kiss to your pout.
“Mm, I love you too, honey. You deserve the best in the world.” He whispered back, before helping you wash yourself. He scrubbed your arms with washcloth, dragging soap up and down your body as you rested in the bath.
“Tom?” You hummed out, gazing at him softly. He nodded back for you to continue.
“Thank you. Do you wanna get in?” You asked gently, holding onto one of his hands and squeezing.
He smiled back to you and nodded, “Sure thing, sweetheart. One second.” He pulled back and undressed himself. You scooted to the center of the bath to give him space to get in behind you. Once he settled in, his legs were on either side of your body and you were resting up against his chest. The warmth from his body and the bath made you sleepy again, and you pressed a slow kiss to his arm when you turned to cuddle close to him.
“Love you baby.” He whispered, brushing his hand through your hair. You mumbled it back before you drifted off to sleep, the stress from today washing off of you.
Tom stayed in the tub with you for another thirty minutes, making sure he washed you up good. Once he was ready to get out, he picked you up bridal style and pulled a towel over your body so you wouldn’t get cold.
He placed you on the bed and dried you off with soft and caring hands and then went back into the bathroom to tidy up. When he came back, you were cuddling with one of your favorite blankets on the bed. He smiled at the sight and went to go wash your clothes in the laundry room. Once he tossed them into the washing machine, he went into the kitchen and started making your favorite meal.
It took a little bit of time, thankfully he had the supplies beforehand, and then set it up on the night stand next to you. Before he woke you up, he set up the TV in the room and found one of your comfort shows. He pressed play and put the volume low.
He woke you up with a kiss to your forehead. You blinked up in surprise as the smell of the food hit your nose and you gazed over the room. He set everything up perfectly.
“This is amazing, Tom.” You spoke up softly, gazing to him with love in your eyes. He settled into the bed next to you and kissed your cheek.
“For my perfect girl.” He whispered back, smiling at you as you cuddled close to him again.
“Not that perfect! I can’t find a gift for you for Christmas.” You laughed softly and shook your head.
He raised his eyebrows and then shrugged, “I already got my gift for Christmas. It’s okay.”
“What?” You laughed, a bit confused at his answer.
“Yeah, it’s perfect. My Christmas gift is you, here in my arms, smiling so sweet like that, my love. Thank you.” He murmured to you, kissing your cheek again. You put the dish down on the nightstand before you fully turned to him and put your hands around his body, pulling him into a hug.
“Baby, you’re so kind. I love you so much.” You whispered back.
“I love you too, darling.” He hummed into your embrace.
-
Bonus Scene:
“Wait, that annoying girl threw out your work? And she didn’t get in trouble? I can’t believe that shit…but I’m glad you stole her mug. We could smash it.” Tom suggested to you, tossing the mug in the air, and catching it.
You rolled your eyes but laughed, “I was thinking about doing that, but she’ll probably complain and say that I did it. It’s okay, I’ll just return it to work tomorrow.”
“Also, about that old guy, I’m pretty sure he’s the one that would get in trouble legally for almost hitting you! But don’t worry about it, I’ll deal with him today while you take a break.” Tom brought up and your eyes widened.
“Uh, wait really? I thought I’d get into trouble for running in a parking lot. And what are you going to do about it?” You asked, laughing when he made a funny face.
“I’ll be like James Bond, agent 007 and I’ll do spy things to him, so he doesn’t bother you again.” Tom chuckled back, punching the air.
“You’re so dumb, I love you.” You laughed back and he pulled you into a hug, laughing with you.
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Too Close To Touch - NINE
WARNING // Some content in this chapter may not be suitable for all readers. Viewer discretion is advised.
"Y/N?" Noah burrows his eyebrows as you zoned out in his gaze. He brings his hand up and takes the cotton ball out of your hand, holding your hand gently in his. You felt your eyes water but your refused to let yourself cry in front of this man.
"Hey.. what's wrong?" He asks, realizing how close you were to having a breakdown. He positioned himself with your knees tucked between his as he sat in front of you. You pulled your hand from his. "You. You always know how to break me down and I can't.... I can't handle this. I can't handle you."
"Y/N.. I know it's a lot but. So much has happened this past week and I--"
"Why did you make me sign that NDA?" You blurt before you could even stop yourself. You nearly choked on your sentence as it passed your lips. A wave of confusion flushed over Noah's face. "What do you mean I forced YOU?"
Awkwardness filled the air along with tension you could cut with a knife. Why was he so confused? You poked at his chest. "Don't fucking play with me, Noah."
"Y/N, do I look like I'm joking? I thought you were the one who sent ME the NDA."
What?
"Matt told me you wanted to keep -"
"Our relationship in the book so it wouldn't tarnish our reputations." We both said at the same time. Our jaws went slack. "Did Matt... Lie?" I asked.
"Lie? Now that's a strong term." Matt's voice sounded as he entered the dressing room, Ruffilo following him and closing the door behind them. "It was Nick's idea after all." Matt elbowed Ruffilo and Ruffilo looked at Matt with the most disgusted look on his face.
"Nick?! What the FUCK!?" you scream at him and he threw his hands up. "It was to protect the band Y/N! Considering Noah locked himself in his room for three days and wouldn't even bother telling any of us what you two argued about. You left Folio to read. Figured since you two didn't wanna share with the group what transpired given that you two were once closer than EVER, an NDA would be an easy way to pretend whatever happened between you two didn't happen."
"Nick was just trying to--" Matt starts before Noah launches off the chair and grabs Nick by the collar, shoving him against the door to the dressing room. "Noah!" You shriek standing up, pulling at Noah's shirt, attempting to pull him off Nick before Matt moves you aside, pulling Noah off Nick. "Enough." Matt yells. "You two are best friends. Why are you acting like this?"
"Best friends don't keep something like this from each other." Noah grunts, adjusting his mic pack that nearly fell from his belt with the aggression.
"Please. I was doing you a favor. You've been making goo goo eyes at Y/N since we were kids. Call it a nudge in the right direction. You really think you're good enough for her? You've treated her like shit the entire time she's been here." Nick spits.
"Nick. Don't bring me into-" You start. "I thought and NDA would save you from the heartbreak. On BOTH ends." Nick explains looking between you and Noah. "You made me hate her for the longest time. You weren't helping anyone." Noah growls.
"You were looking for a reason to hate her while you two were together. I simply just gave you one." Nick raises an eyebrow.
"What the fuck did I do to deserve this?" Your voice churns with disbelief.
"You deserved a reality check Y/N. You're like a little sister to me and the shit he has put you through and you're still the one to clean him up, pick him back up and tell him everything is going to be okay? I know Noah."
Nick looks up at Noah with a scowl. "The depressed rock star inside him would throw you to the side the minute he gets bored and finds something better."
"Maybe when he was 24, Nick, but..."
"But what, he's changed?" Nick raises an eyebrow. "Look how that worked out for him." Nick points at Noah's battered face while Noah stares at the floor with a sigh.
"When did you become to nasty, Nick? I miss the way you used to be." You feel tears start to run down your cheeks before you wipe your face standing up and pushing past the boys, out of the dressing room.
"Good job." Noah glares at Nick. "Looks like I'm not the only one who managed to make her cry today. That was fucked and you know it."
"You two need to get your shit sorted out in the next five minutes. If you don't then we're going to have more on our hands than Noah and Y/N being together."
Matt sighs angrily and moves past Nick out into the hallway.
Nick and Noah look at one another, staring each other down, almost unrecognizable to each other. Almost as if they were never friends to begin with.
To be continued...
Authors Note : WHOOAAAAA were yall surprised with this one or what?
Hi babies <3 hope you're well and enjoyed the chapter. Always love the feedback.
@badomensls @Laurpartyprogram @Starvingarsyn @Jilliemiw86 @Blackveilomens @Darkmxgician @sammyjoeee @kingdxmxfcxrds @Lizzyanthony3 @Flowery-mess
#bad omens#jolly karlsson#nick folio#nick ruffilo#noah sebastian#bad omens fanfiction#badomenscult#too close to touch
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You sure we're out of their sight?
in which you can't admit that you like komaeda, let alone liking a boy.
warnings ; internalised homophobia, breakdowns
male reader x komaeda nagito
im so sorry for never posting! i forgot all about this account and focussed on my ao3 account! but im here now so, enjoy that "Car lights" fanfic i promised but a different title.
The sun had already set, a premature twilight settling over the horizon as you stared out with the entire universe on your shoulders. Perhaps you should be more glad to get away from the city for a bit, even if you were only about 20 minutes away. Your friends proposed to all go out tonight, but you refused. You can't function properly if you don't figure yourself out and quick.
Sand crunched under your shoes as you breathed a hissing intake of air- it wasn't the best day for you today. You had drove to the nearest sea shore after a long day of battling your own disgust to something you'd rather not name. Even labelling it was shameful but tempting. If you say it aloud, usually it confirms it in your mind. For example- saying how much you love watching shitty sitcoms that you found hilarious when you were about 10 at the age of 17 going on 18 kind of seals the deal on it. A verbal contract- a shameful confirmation.
Your tank was about one fifth filled up, and you were running on fumes of hope that it would still be able to take you to the nearest gas station after you're finished brooding. Even after being here for what felt like days, you still hadn't been able to figure yourself out. What are you really even freaking out over? What is your problem? Your dilemma?
Komaeda Nagito.
About a couple months ago, you two had met in the library on not the most friendly terms. However over time, you somehow managed to look past it and you two kept coming back to that same spot in the same library.
"..Pride and Prejudice.." The ivory boy mumbled, sitting beside you as he leaned against his elbow on the table. "..You've truly never read this before? It's such a famous piece of literary artwork. One of the most famous actually.. Makes sense that someone so painfully average like you wouldn't know that."
He talks so much to you for someone who despises the very precense of the Reserve Course. "...Shut up, of course I knew about it- I just never found it interesting so I blew off reading it."
You both scoff at eachother before sliding the book into the middle of the table and read it together, pointing out small bits of the book every now and then.
"..I'd never fall for someone like Mr Darcy.. So cold.. so cruel. Even for money- seriously! That'd fuck me up."
"..Well- I'd assume you wouldn't fall for someone like him- he's a boy." He let out a small laugh through his sentence- pushing you out of your thoughts. You couldn't believe you let that slip.
"Right- nah, I'm just saying y'know. If I was a girl and liked guys, I'd never choose him." A slight awkward silence ensues after that awful slip up from you. It's only after a whole chapter does Komaeda begin to speak again.
"Would you though?"
"Would I what?"
"..You know, date a boy?"
You fiddle with the corner of the pages, sucking on your teeth before breathing out a small string of words. "..Relationships are tiring." Is all you can pull out from your mouth before going back to reading. It was an nice way of getting out of the topic. You could've easily said no- but for some reason you remained vague.
"..That's not answering my question. Are you seriously that incompetent?" He sneered before leaning his hand on the seat of your chair, his head lulled to the side of both of you. "..Don't answer that actually, I know you are that incompetent." It was hard to tell in that moment if Komaeda was against the idea of homosexuality or not- he was always mixed signals. You open your mouth to say something; but now he was much closer, you could feel that sultry voice vibrate down your ears, and so you close your mouth and stay silent.
"..You've gone quiet. Are you truly that stumped by my question?" He hummed, chills now digging it's needles into your back. "..I suppose it is quite the hard question, even for an Ultimate it could stump them." That's a weird thing to say, especially from the suspicious implications.
"..You talk too much. Just keep reading." Is all you breathe out before you flip the page over and Komaeda shifts back away from your chair. The moment ends.
But it wasn't even the fact that he was in a much higher position than you- a high standing pedestal than your excuse for being a "symbol". Perhaps you're over reacting about the wrong thing. Komaeda had a reputation for despising all reserve course's to the core. A more filthier piece of trash than him (if that was possible in his mind.) The purest scum of the Earth. You should be running for life, and you would if you were in the most rational state of mind. But you're quite obviously not. He's going to eat you alive but god you wonder how it'd be if you did so first. Laying back onto the hood of your car, you shriek out a loud groan and grip at your hair in frustration. You don't know exactly why you're so stressed over him, someone who's merely a friend. Barely, actually- more like civil accquantainces who had common interests and that was all. He despised being seen in public with you; if his classmates ever walked into the library whilst you two were there, he would quickly but quietly shuffle to another nearby table.
In the earlier months of your accquantainceship, you would've scoffed and insulted him after they left. But now, you simply look at them crowd around as they ask how Komaeda is before leaving. You felt like a frog amongst swans, something so dirty and unfitting to be with.
Silver glints of the moon fracture over the tides, the serene scenery surrounding you was ethereal, a song for the eyes. You've been here for about 5 hours, sitting in different positions all whilst rubbing your temples or banging your forehead onto your knees. It's getting harder to ignore this, to ignore him. Why are you here? You want to go home, but it feels like an obligation to stay and sort this out before you begin to lose your head. You'd honestly rather cut off your wings so that you can not fly into the sun but rather fall into the mighty blue beasts teeth than confront these ghastly thoughts of yours. Komaeda, Komaeda, Komaeda. You've never felt more stress over a name such as his. You should be cast to the wolves for these thoughts. But what thoughts? Your head does not contain blasphemies and your mouth has not committed any heresies. So why are you so troubled? Perhaps you do know, but if you even dare mention it you'd finally commit said heresy you so very feared. You can't say it. You won't dare think it. You refuse. You won't do it.
But you can't stop- you've already done it. You imagine how perfectly your arms would fit around him, how easily your hands could mold together and your eyes would easily find the pearls of the deep dark in eachother's irises, how wonderfully your lips would fit like a jigsaw.
You can't remember exactly how you became enamoured by him. Perhaps it was when you accidentally let your stare linger longer than you intended. That day, Komaeda brought in a book that you could only find via an online bookstore due to it being quite a strange piece. Turns out, he was absolutely infatuated with it, and rambling about it came easy to him.
"..The Book Of Disquiet is quite the interesting read- it was never finished, but it's easy to get how the book ends. The heteronyms that Pessoa created for it was intentionally made to be...boring. I've done alot of research on him- he really delves into the whole "Terrible Paradox of Self Awareness" topic- noting to the reader that writing and doing and saying is all completely meaningless yet continues to write, do and say things." The Lucky Student trails off, flicking back and forth to pages of his notes page he did on the portugese author, explaining and going through each little bit.
You absorbed it in like a sponge- his voice was calming and his eyes were soft as he looked at the pages like it was a puppy. His hair was falling perfectly down his face and spilling onto his shoulders, his eyes shining with a glimmer you've only seen in the stars. Komaeda's beauty could never be put to justice through photos. Not even paintings could immortalise his visage- a night sky within his eyes and the sun within his soul. It was as if you were in an trance. There was a subtle breeze in your imagination as you stared- that was until you realised that was because Komaeda was waving his hand infront of your face.
"..Hello? Are you alright?" That was a first. He doesn't ask that often. "..You seem pretty out of it. It is quite warm in here.."
"..No. I'm fine. Keep reading." And the moment ends.
In your dreams, you described it as simple infatuation, but in reality it was not as airy and feather-light as that. In your nightmares, you described it as a deadly desire, but in reality it was not as short-lived and capricious as that. But to call it anything else in your own conscious mind? You'd rather be ripped from your organs.
But you don't want to keep thinking about it. You don't think you can do it any longer in this swealtering heat of the night. It was humid, but it barely felt like any air was being circulated around the Earth. One last sigh leaves you before you get up from your indented place in the sand and wander off to your car. It was an alright car, not the best and it was used by alot of past owners but it was the best you could get at your age. You pull out your keys and make sure to shake and jingle them a bit just so you can hear the clacking against them, hoping it'd snap you out of whatever this was. Opening the door and slamming it once you're inside, you push your keys into the engine and twist. Your car moans and groans several times, and you could've sworn you felt your heart shoot down to your gut. Your repeated attempts to twist your keys and turn on the engine are almost ridiculed by the curdling screams of the exhaust. Oh, come on. How did this happen? You take great care of your car! Not a single scrape or dent or even a mere collision with any other vehicle. What happened?
Ah. Right. Your tank- it was only one fifth full. Shit.
Well, now you're stuck at this beach with more rocks than grains of sand. His luck is rubbing off on you. Great, there you go again! You always just have to find some way to mention his name even in the most dire situations. What's wrong with you? A loud bang clanks against the hood of your car from the hail that was now pouring down, mocking you as you replicate those bangs onto your steering wheel from your forehead. Atleast you had shelter from it. But you had no money to call a repair work, and almost all of your friends were out for tonight. Oh, but who else is in your contacts that IS free?
Komaeda Nagito.
You fully groan at his name, your hands dragging the skin of your face up and down. Do you really have to resort to this? It's either him or you stay in the hail with your car as shelter on a school night. God, and who knows how many assignments you probably have to do right now? You feel like crying. You end up crying.
Hot blobs of salt run down your cheeks as you feel the overwhelming sense of dread. Nothing was going right for you today, nothing at all. Your bones feel heavy in your skin, your eyes straining to keep up with the amount of tears leaving you. Your car has no gas, it's hailing loudly and you're caught between the tides of pain and rapture as you stare at his contact on your phone. You hadn't even figured out the reason of why you are here. Maybe that's for the best. It'd be more awkward to face Komaeda if you had figured it out- but does that mean you most likely know what's wrong with you then? Are you in denial?
"...Hello?" His gravally voice seeps through the audio output.
"..Komaeda, can you come pick me up? My car broke down at the beach- I can't get home and I have no money to call repair services." Your voice is cracking and crumbling as you call, your hands occupied with either your phone or holding the wheel. All you hear is a groan that interrupts a 5 second silence. "..Please- after this I'll never call again, I promise-" All you hear is a beep. He hung up. What did you expect? Why would he ever come and help someone as pathetic as you?
You fall back into your seat, hands dragging your face again before you grumble to yourself under your breath. Why do you care so much? His attention burns your skin and his precense warms your nerves. You could practically melt at the thought of him. This isn't right. It just isn't right at all. It's disgusting, it should be illegal to feel like this for another man. You feel ashamed like you've committed murder. Being burnt at the stake would be a worthy punishment for this. Oh but the more you deny and refute this, refute him, the more you can't push these feelings down. It's all you're thinking about.��
So now you're stuck here and potentially broken what little bit of friendship you had with Komaeda. Great work. Aren't you just the most intelligent man alive?
You huff it out in large and saltier blobs of misery, soon letting your exhausted eyes fall heavy. You're sitting in your car, hail now slowing as you drift off into probably one of the modt uncomfortable positions possible. In your dreams you envision a timeline where perhaps one of you were a girl instead, and loving eachother wouldn't need to be so compromising. Or perhaps a timeline where loving another boy wouldn't be compromising.
Soon enough, you're awoken by loud thuds and thumps against your window, you can barely make out what it is banging your window due to how much more the rain was pouring down now. A loud groan leaves your throat before you roll down the window, and your eyes finally open fully. That frizzy tuff of white cotten, now flattened by the rain is all too familiar for you. You stare at it. But not at his eyes.
Komaeda Nagito.
You both stare at eachother, stoic yet painful words were folded into the corners of eachother's eyes. It's been about 10 seconds you've been staring at eachother through your car window.
"..."
"..You truly are so incompetent, aren't you?"
What?
"..Driving all this way and you didn't even think to fill up your tank. On top of that, you call me of all people to solve this pathetic problem of yours and you're not even going to say a thing to me when I arrive."
He came here? But he hung up?
"..Are you blind? Are you deaf? Hello??" Komaeda sneers at you, grimacing at you. It's hard to see eachother through the rain.
"...you came."
He shuts up at that, and despite the rain, you can see his eyes soften. "..I did. You called me, you sounded.. stressed. So I came." But why?
"..I don't why I did. It was like I needed to. It doesn't make sense." He sighs before looking away. You narrow your eyes slightly, softening them too before you get out of your car and closing the door behind you, leaning against the soaked metal.
At this point, the only source of light came from your car lights, blaring from it's home to display all the droplets of rain that passed it. "..What happened?" His voice was quieter than quiet. Despite the rain being louder, you could only hear him. "..You don't usually go out so late. I thought your friends invited you out?"
"..You paid attention to that?" He nods. "I just needed to figure something out." He hums.
"..Well, have you?" You shake your head.
"..Maybe I can help. What is it you're troubling yourself with?" You huff.
Both of you wander over to the hood of your car, sitting ontop of it. "I can't tell you. I'd honestly rather die than do so. You'd rip me to shreds."
"What? Are you striving to become an Ultimate or something? It couldn't be that bad." You scoff and lay back onto your hood.
"..Remember that conversation we had a couple weeks back? You asked if I'd ever.."
"..Date a boy?" You nod. "..What about it?"
It takes a lot of courage to continue this conversation. "..What would.. what do you- think? Would you ever date one?" He shrugs. "Probably. Why? What does this have to do with anything?" How dense can someone be?
But that gives you a little something. He might.
"..Put two and two together you fucking moron." At this point, you're getting tired of running away. Your feet are calloused with how much you've ran away from this problem of yours. You need to decide it now.
You glance over at his face and you see no malice in his visage. Perhaps he isn't here to taunt you. He's probably trying to understand what you meant. "..Ah." Is all he says before laying back onto the hood with you. "Whatever you decide for that, despite how..painfully filthy you are... I'll support you."
He heaves alot during that sentence. Maybe it's due to the rain or maybe it just took too much out of him to try to be nice to you. You both look up, squinting through the rain. "..How long have you been out here?"
"..About.. 8 hours..? I don't know. I needed to find some space." Komaeda hums in agreement as he combs his strands back. "Fair enough. But you might catch a cold." That's new. "Since when did you care, Main course?" You could just about hear the small chuckle under his breath.
This all felt like some strange peace treaty between you two. It was no longer insults but rather it felt like light-hearted jokes. Like you two had known each other forever. "Would you rather me let you out to die from pneumonia?" You laugh and shake your head. Your laughter simmers down and you both look at each other, you hadn't looked at him for the entire time. Looking at him almost made you sob. You don't know if you can do this.
"So... what made you start... thinking of this whole liking boys thing?" He asks with a careful tone, talking to you at this moment felt like a delicate activity. You can't tell him that. You just shrug.
"So you pull me all the way out here, just so we can lay in the rain on your hood?" You smile at that but you shake your head. "..I don't think I can tell you why. I don't want to ruin this." You gesture to the little space between you two. "It's taken me so long to just say I potentially like...boys. I feel like I should be atoning for this."
"No shame in liking guys. You don't need to tell me why then," You thank him with your silence, ", Any guys you like right now though?" You slap his shoulder and he puts both hands up in the air with a smirk. "What? It's a genuine question!"
Eyes roll as you simply return to looking up at the crying sky. "Perhaps. Do you?" He shrugs. "Perhaps."
"You can't just copy my answer. Give me something here."
"You're not giving me a thing here. How about we both give small hints?" It's a good idea and so you agree. "Hair colour?" God that is the worst question. He'll easily tell who it is then. "That's way too obvious!" A small huff leaves him before he goes back to thinking. "Hm, fine.. which course is he in?"
The thing is, you don't know anyone else in the Main Course other than him and Kazuichi. He was your neighbour for a long time and you two grew close as friends. But he didn't know that, did he? "..Main Course." You awaited a scoff or a remark of how you don't deserve to love anyone from the Main Course, but he just hums.
"..Would you like to know mine?"
It almost takes your entire being to not say yes so eagerly. He clicks his tongue in amusement.
"..Reserve."
There's a strange casual coolness in his voice, as if he hadn't just said something that completely shook you to your roots and make you question everything about him. This contradicted everything about him! What kind of weird enemies-to-lovers experience did he have?
"..Shocking, I know. Seems like we're in similar situations, unfortunately." Komaeda remarks, however he has a smirk on his face that gives you a bad feeling that he knows. Maybe you should give in to defeat.
"..Don't you hate us? Why would you ever want to love one of us?" Your inquiry is the one to make him finally scoff. "..I never wanted to. But I had to accept it soon enough, I have enough things to eat away at me. I didn't need another." It felt slightly insulting but you got it. It was exactly like you and this gay situation. "..That's...fair enough. When did you finally accept it?"
"..About.. A month or two ago? I had let it waste away at me for about.. 4 months." 6 months. You've known him for 6 months.
"..Wow.. You've been in love with some dude ever since the day we met and you didn't bother to tell me? I'm honestly betrayed, Komaeda."
"Well I didn't exactly see you as a friend back then, did I?" That caught you off guard. "So that means you see me as a friend now?"
"Perhaps." That leaves a smile on your face.
You two stay out on your hood for another 5 minutes. It's getting cold. It's very late.
"..You figured it out yet?" His voice sounds less sultry, now it was more careful and smooth. You shrug.
Over the course of 5 minutes, 2 things went through your head. Should you just give in to defeat and tell him and potentially ruin everything or should you just say no and just get him to drive you two home and send a service for your car later? The latter sounds tempting. It's such a cursed mindset- it felt like a fruit from a poisonous tree. Your thoughts were fickle between the decisions of defeat and stubborness. All your troubling thoughts brutally clawed at your face and brain, infecting it like your brain was filled with scorpions. Your tolerance was beginning to simmer and sizzle. Perhaps you thought about it too much. Maybe you're overthinking. What if you gave in to defeat and he rejects you? It was all for nothing. But he doesn't owe you that affection just because you came out to him within the same day. Why can't you decide? Why won't you hurry up? Why, why, why?-
Your thoughts silence. His lemon grass eyelashes fluttered at you like rare butterflies in the spring morning. You take one more breath.
"I like a boy from the Main Course. I can.. confirm that now. I'm not the most.. okay with that fact but.. I can't let it eat me away aswell." You smile weakly at him. Looking into Komaeda's eyes, you can see glints of a smile in them. He seems proud of you.
"But I... uh.. don't think he likes me back." He cocks his head slightly to the side. "Why do you say that?" This might also give it away.
But your rational reasoning had been long gone from your brain ever since you started crying and screaming on a beach in a broken down car.
"He doesn't exactly like Reserves." You cover your mouth to giggle as if you just told someone the dumbest secret ever. His eyebrow raises at you. "Oh?"
Oh.
Shit.
"..Aha.. Ahhhhh... Yeah. What about your Reserve Crush? Does he like Main Courses?"
"No. He always scoffs when he sees me."
"I would too." You already do.
"Why wouldn't he like you though? Despite how painfully average you are... You're quite stunning in the moonlight. And somehow you're able to make me laugh everyday." You are quite the comedic genius.
"Because I'm no Ultimate. I've heard the way he talks about the Ultimates and I'm never going to live up to that. I wish I could. I always wonder if I'm ever going to."
"Maybe he's let go of that aspect of hatred from you." He suggests, looking over at you. "..Maybe he sees you as something even more." It's your turn to raise an eyebrow. "..How would you know that?"
"My luck is that of the stars. I might be right." Komaeda winks before staring deeper into your eyes.
"My troubles lie exactly with if he'll like me or not right now, and supposedly your luck will help me?" He shrugs. You two have become ever so much more closer on your hood, sitting upright. You two haven't made this long of eye-contact ever. You two haven't made this type of contact ever either. He's beautiful. You can feel his cold breath against you.
Over the course of your time together on your car with raining weeping onto you, Komaeda came closer for warmth and you came closer to try and hear his small tone. It's only become more apparent of how little space there was between you two. You have a strange feeling on where this is going with how close he is becoming.
"Are you scared?" You nod slightly. He probably noticed your eyes shake between his lips and the surroundings and back to his eyes.
"I feel like someone will see us."
"Through the car lights? I doubt it. Do you still want to deny yourself this? I can stop if you want." He backs away slightly as a demonstration, but you catch his shoulders and shake your head. "...There is nothing to run from. I'm not scared. I only have one more worry on my mind but... it's nothing you should be concerned about." And he smiles.
"Would you..let me answer your troubles?"
You're unsure of what he means, however you aren't given much of a chance to question him. You feel a cold pair of lips press against yours, and you feel complete. You two complete eachother, knocking their air out of eachothers lungs as you hold hands and kiss on your hood. "..Don't let them see my face." Is all you mumble through your muffled lips as you two, push eachother up against the car, holding eachother like life lines. "I don't know how to be without you." Komaeda mumbles back, digging his nimble hands into your hair.
It feels like fireworks as you finally break away and look at eachother. Your finger tips slowly trace to his knuckles, holding his hand tightly as you two continue to watch the tides rise and retreat.
"...Would.. would you.. like to go back now?" You nod. You two get off of the vehicle and enter Komaeda's. You leave with smiles and blushes between a silence.
The rain stopped at that very second.
#nagito x reader#danganronpa 2 x reader#nagito komaeda x reader#sdr2 x reader#danganronpa x reader#male reader#fanfiction
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✨💞controversial jjk character ranking tier list💞✨
got some hot takes in this one that some of y'all are not gonna like... 👀 breakdowns below the cut
1. i, personally, am insane about them:
megumi fushiguro, suguru geto, shoko ieri, kittycunt choso, junpei yoshino, yuuta okkotsu
2. best boy / best girl / loml sweet baby angel 💕🫰🏽✨:
yuuji itadori, nobara kugisaki, nanamin, aoi todo, higuruma, makin zenin, toge inumaki, yuki tsukumo, ijichi, miguel odoul, kirara hoshi, jogo, kusakabe, nitta, takaba, tall idol takada, tsumiki fushiguro, utahime iori, that sumo guy & that other guy with the sumo guy (i think)
this is a packed category. itadori & kugisaki are right on the cusp of "insane about them" and "love them a lot a lot a lot" ... tsumiki should be ranked a little higher. mimiko and nanako were not included in this template, but they would go here.
3. good, in a literary sense:
satoru gojo, eso, mahito, naoya zenin, that guy megumi fought, toji fushiguro, mahoraga
so uh......toji should be higher. so should mahoraga. that's all i have to say 🙂
4. ...fine:
ino, kinji hakari, useless miwa, hanami, mai zenin, principal yaga, twink from shibuya (haruta??? apparently?), kashimo, uraume, sparky sparky boom man, that guy who throws his teeth, kechizu
this is a category for characters I have a net "meh" reaction to. some of them would be in lower tiers if I didn't like their character design.
5. induces a complicated, quiet rage in me. so incredibly infuriating, yet also boring. meant to be sympathetic, yet i have no sympathy. i will not judge you for how you dealt with insurmountable adversity, but i do not like you:
mechamaru, ui ui
this category was created specifically for mechamaru. threw ui ui in here too bc why tf not, he fits (most) of the criteria.
6. don't care:
panda, hana/angel, noritoshi kamo (the younger), anime alcoholic zenin what's his name, dagon, nishimiya, principal gakuganji, plane hair girl, sky girl (ume? uro?)
listen..... don't shoot me. in canon....they are boring to me. i don't care about them. i don't care about their backstories, I don't care about their motivations. they are literally taking up space on my page/screen that could be dedicated to someone i give a fuck about. two of them made it out of the bottom tier by being hot.
7. i want to dip them in acid, coat them in pop rocks, then dip them in lava repeatedly:
kenjaku, sukuna, tengen
...I think this is pretty self explanatory
8. literally so irrelevant i don't even know who you are:
i could not list these names if i tried
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mei mei was also not on this list. would probably warrant her own category ala mechamaru. something like: "girl, you are so complicated, and not in a good way" or "a very confusing mix of mindless attraction and disgust-fueled repulsion is waging war in my body and I don't know which side will win" or "i would pay 10,000,000¥ for you to go away... and/or step on me? + calling child services for your brother"
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✨beloved mutuals & non-beloved strangers, feel free to yell at me about this in my ask box 💕🫰🏽✨
#jjk#jujitsu kaisen#jjk tier list#controversial takes:#gojo satoru#jjk panda#mechamaru#maybe?#itadori yuuji#nobara kugisaki#megumi fushiguro#geto suguru#i used to want to dip toji in lava#but he is very interesting to me#also a very good character#in a literary sense#chiamemes
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Tua as dumb shit me and my friends have said part 2!!!
Viktor: "Hey gongeous. Lemme guess, Mental Breakdown?"
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Luther:“Yeah fuck men!”
Diego:“Luther, You’re a man.”
Luther:“Aw man I’m gonna get fucked :(.”
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Klaus:"Gay people could totally use sex robots"
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Klaus:"I can't believe you got hammered!"
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Allison:"You're too british, it's disgusting!"
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Klaus: "We're the best duo! The tall one and the short one!"
Five: "die."
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Five: "Hey gongeous. Lemme guess, No Five for 45 years?"
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Klaus: "That's such an unsexy way to kill yourself"
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Grace: "We're having pot roast for dinner"
Ben: "What's pot roast?"
Klaus: "A roasted pot"
Luther: "...... dad whats pot roast?"
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Viktor: [holds box] "What is it?"
Leonard: "It's uhhh.. Do it yourself sculpture kit." [Lying]
Viktor: "Aww." [Starts to open it]
Leonard: "NONONO, UHM, IT's medusa's head! So!" [Pats box]
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Lila:"We deserve a treat for living in a dystopia."
Five:"What?"
Lila:"..what?"
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Luther:"I can't kill someone with a toilet paper roll!"
Five: "I can think of several ways to kill someone with a toilet paper roll."
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Diego:"It's too hot here to be emopunk"
#the umbrella academy#tua#five hargreeves#luther hargreeves#diego hargreeves#klaus hargreeves#viktor hargreeves#ben hargreeves#grace hargreeves#leonard peabody#lila pitts#allison hargreeves
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