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runnning-outof-time · 2 months ago

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Some Calm in the Midst of War | Wartime!Tommy Shelby x Reader

request: yes by @cybubuvubbu

pairing: Wartime!Tommy Shelby x Reader

summary: (Y/N) meets a soldier in a club. Not wanting to let go of this taste of calm amidst all of the chaos, they extend their moment of revelry into something a bit longer.

warnings: language, smoking, talks of war, suggestive situations (pg-13 in nature…I think)

word count: 1721

a/n: so this is what I decided to do in order to get these requests that have been sitting for months out to read. I really focused on just letting all of the inhibitions about it go and writing. Whatever gets put down gets put down, and however it gets put down flies also. I’m sorry if this isn’t what you were hoping for/looking forward to from me, but please know that I’m doing this in hopes that it’ll help me figure out what I want to do next. Ok, I’m sorry for making this so long…enjoy! :)

a/n 2: I just can’t bring myself to write completely nsfw stuff but I wanted to take this request in this direction, so I hope anyone won’t be annoyed at the fact that it’s not explicit smut. This’ll probably be the closest my writing will ever get to it.

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

comment/message me if you want to be tagged!

The unlikely pair met in a club. She was - once - a woman of higher class, and he was a man whose family lived on next to nothing. But now because the war had ripped through both of their lives, they were finding solace in each other.

He couldn't take his eyes off of her all night. She was there with some of the ladies who she worked alongside as a field nurse. He'd come into town with his company, whom he was in command of.

Both looking for some semblance of what their lives used to be; looking for a way to escape the hell they’d been stuck in.

She was the one who approached him. "Saw you staring from across the bar," she started, her confidence earning some whistles from the men who were accompanying the man she was speaking to. One was even quick to leave his stool, offering the space to her. The man was surprised how quickly his men left them alone. "Thought it'd be a crime not to come and talk with you," she brought his attention back to her, her lips curved up into a smile.

He didn't know what to say at first. Prior to this, he wasn't sure if he was even going to take things further than a couple glances in her direction. But now he couldn't take his eyes off of her, and shit... he still didn't know what to say! A laugh filled with disbelief left his lips as he finally tore his eyes from hers.

He took a drag from his cigarette before looking her way again. One thing he wasn't going to do in this situation was fuck this opportunity up.

The two didn't talk much. Sure a brief conversation occurred, but it wasn't long before she was pulling them to the dance floor so they could join in with all of the other carefree couples.

The fact that he wanted to stay after the first song was over shocked her. It was evident though that she was the only reason he wanted to stay.

They exchanged a kiss before even exchanging names.

It wasn't surprising to see how quickly they became engrossed in one another. All they'd known for the last stretch of time was war and the feelings, not to mention sights, of terror that came with it. Neither knew when they'd get another moment like this...so they most certainly weren't going to waste it.

Their connection grew over the next several dances they shared. Soon enough the tender at the bar was yelling last call and they were ordering one last drink together.

Both weren't able to find the groups that they'd arrived with, so they decided to bask in each other's company for as long as they were able.

They finally got to talking, sitting at the bar until the keeper was telling them they needed to leave.

It was during these conversations that they found out just how different of lives they had led prior to this point. Funny how war had the ability to blur the class lines. Neither cared at the moment that the other wouldn’t have even spared a glance prior to now. They simply cared about feeling human again.

She brought him back to the room she'd been given for her brief time of leave from the field hospital. Tensions had risen between them as they walked closely together down the street. There was purpose in their step and things reached a fever point the second they stepped across the threshold into the small room.

The slightest look was shared before their lips met. No words needed to be spoken. What they both wanted was written clear across their faces.

Their walk to the bed looked more like a dance as they blindly fumbled with each others’ clothes. By the time her back hit the mattress, she was left in a blouse and underwear and he his trousers.

Another look was shared as a pause was taken. They were both breathing heavily, but this time he asked: “are you sure?”

She blinked a few times, as if it was her own way of checking that he was indeed real and that this was really happening. She couldn’t remember the last time she was in a position like this. The longer the pause was held, the more it became evident that she would be insane not to let the opportunity pass. “So sure,” she breathed in response, a smile playing on her lips.

His mesmerizing blue eyes turned a shade darker as he heard her response. A grin spread across his lips, and he brought his hand up to take hold of her cheek before she matched her lips to his again.

Their kisses were slower this time around. Both wanted to savor this moment, as they knew it may be the last like it they’d ever get. Inhibitions were thrown out alongside the rest of their garments and nothing more was said as they found a connection with each other.

Sweat stuck to their bodies and he made sure to hold her close, both reeling from the feeling the other was giving them.

They couldn’t remember the last time they felt this good. It was a feeling they never wanted to end.

Leaving was something neither of the two even thought about when they were finished. Their limbs stayed winded together, and they continued to exchange languid kisses as they came down from their highs.

“Shelby,” she breathed, her eyes focusing on the disc that was hanging around his neck. The disc that would be used to identify him if something were to happen in the field of battle.

Its presence made reality return to her mind. A reminder of the war they were still very much engrossed in flooded her thoughts, shrouding the state of bliss that she was previously experiencing.

“Tommy,” his voice brought her out of her thoughts.

“Huh?” she asked, focusing on him again with furrowed brows.

“My name’s Tommy,” he clarified.

“It’s nice to meet you, Tommy,” she said, then giggling as the context of the situation came to mind…usually these sort of introductions were done before she joined a man in bed.

Tommy cracked a grin at her statement, a chuckle leaving his lips before he leaned down to kiss hers, stifling her laughter in the process. “What’s your name?” he asked as they broke apart.

“(Y/N),” she answered, her smile still present.

“It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N),” he used the same greeting as she had, and they both began laughing again.

Their laughter subsided as their eyes met, and the tension they’d been feeling from the moment he spotted her at the club arose again. Nothing more was said as their lips molded together for the umpteenth time that evening.

Tommy was the one to break away, but he didn’t move far. He kissed a line from her lips down to her jaw and settled against the crook of her neck. (Y/N) sighed wantonly at the feeling, her hands tangling in the longer parts of his hair as her heart rate increased.

“Tommy…” his name was uttered in a breathy moan, “Tommy, I don’t…” she couldn’t quite keep her thoughts straight as his lips trailed lower, finding a new home in the valley between her breasts. It was becoming harder to think with each passing second, but she felt she needed to get these thoughts out. “I don’t usually do this—I’m not usually like this.”

He stopped his ministrations and lifted his head to look at her again. She sighed at the loss of feeling. “What do you mean?” he asked, his brows furrowing together in confusion when it took her a few moments to respond.

“I’m not usually this…” she paused, struggling to think of the right word, “…easy,” was what she finally settled on, although it still felt as if there were better words to use.

Tommy’s brows straightened only slightly. “I never thought you were,” he told her honestly.

“Things have been so different with the war and all,” she continued to explain herself even though he didn’t ask her to, “it’s been so long—too long, since I’ve been in a situation like this so forgive me for being unsure of what now needs to be done, but I just…my fear is that I won’t have a chance to experience this again…” she paused, feeling her chest tighten, “things are so uncertain now…”

“Hey…” he cut her off she could continue. She bit on her bottom lip to stop it from quivering, unable to match his gaze for fear of it making her tears fall. “Look at me, love,” he gently coaxed her, his hand cupping her cheek so that he could make their eyes meet. A solemn expression was present on his features as he reached up to brush away a tear with his thumb.

“I’m sorry,” (Y/N) apologized, now feeling pathetic for turning their passionate moment into this.

“Don’t be,” Tommy shook his head, his thumb running gently against her cheekbone. He searched her eyes for a moment before continuing, “no harm will ever come to you,” he told her, “not from me, not from anyone else…not while I’m here,” his words were spoken with the utmost truth, and his eyes never wavered from hers.

(Y/N) wasn’t sure what to say. She’d never had someone profess something like this to her…especially not someone who was a stranger a few hours ago. But in this moment it felt so right, and hearing those words alone gave her some hope that maybe they’d both be okay.

She smiled at him, reaching up to slowly run her hand against his jawline. “You’ll be here?” she asked him, her eyebrows raising slightly.

“Until I can’t be,” he assured her, a smile playing on his lips.

His response made (Y/N)’s smile widen, and nothing more was said as she gently took hold of his chin and brought his lips to hers once more.

Staying true to his word, Tommy stayed with (Y/N) until they both had to ship out to their posts again. Both were equally grateful to enjoy some calm in the midst of war.

Check out THIS ARTICLE that I found about the history of how identification tags were used throughout time — it’s such an intriguing read!

**ALSO - the italized words that Tommy said at the end were taken from the caption on the photo from the request, which were taken from the movie The Edge of Love.

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21

@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings

@just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver

@stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder

@cillmequick @strayrockette @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08

@insanitybyanothername @depxiety @justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @mrs-bond

@cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable

@thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife @ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo @novashelby

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby fic #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders x you #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fic #fanfic #fanfiction

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octuscle · 1 month ago

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Four T and one C

On campus, they were known only as TTTT. Tanner, Thad, Trent and Trey had known each other since childhood. Their parents were all members of the same country club, their parents all had summer houses in the same area in the Hamptons. It was clear that TTTT would all go to the same college together. With a lot of money from their parents, they had all made it to Yale. Even if not everyone was actually clever enough for it. Fortunately, as Yale alumni and successful investment bankers and lawyers, their fathers and mothers were able to fix that. And so the party at the high school became an Ivy League party. And TTTT were the guests of honor at the party.

Chad's parents weren't in a country club and didn't have a house in the Hamptons. But they were wealthy enough that Chad had somehow managed to find favor in the TTTT's picky eyes. He lived in the same dorm, they had talked at some point. And the fact that Chad was smart and could help them with an exam or two wasn't a disadvantage, of course. The TTTT were all studying business studies, Chad biochemistry. But with an IQ of 142, he was easily able to pick up what little knowledge he needed for an MBA in a lunch break.

The first semester came to an end. TTTT had done reasonably well, Chad already had a job as a working student at a biotech lab and had a good chance of finishing the semester at the top of his class. Nevertheless, he was at every party and if you saw the five of them in their Polo Ralph Laure and Abercrombie & Fitch outfits, you would have thought that all five of them were nothing more than spoiled and stupid frat boys. Until the day the last marketing exam was written. TTTT treated themselves to a beer in the sun on campus in front of the football stadium to celebrate the end of the semester. And then Chad came by. But he wasn't dressed like Chad. He looked like a British hooligan. At least almost. Tight jeans, DocMartens and a tight Fred Perry polo shirt that showed he obviously didn't just spend time in the library and lab. The tight shirt showed off his pecs and biceps pretty well.

“Bro!” said Tanner. “What do you look like? What's with the chav look?” Chad grinned. With that cheeky grin and his haircut, he was still one of them, even if he was dressed differently. “I got this invitation from my new employer. Sick party, all for nothing. And the employees were asked to come in the company colors. And they are yellow and black. And because I didn't have time to change beforehand, I wore the only thing like that I could find. I had it from my exchange year in Berlin. Everyone at my school walked around like that.” Trent grinned. “Sounds sick, dude! Do you think you can get us into the party?” Chad grinned and pulled out four ribbons. “You think I'm forgetting my best bros? Put on your wristbands, they'll get you into anything you want. And here are the tickets for the entrance.” Chad took a look. The nerd still had to study, he still had two exams to write. TTTT did a collective high five. The evening was saved. It would be just the right end to their first semester at university.

The bouncers had had their hands full. The party was an event of the year, crowds of people wanted to get in. TTTT had problems even getting through to the bouncers. But when they showed their tickets, they were waved through. One of the bouncers said to a colleague “What boring philistines!” Fortunately, TTTT didn't hear that. And fortunately, the four of them were so sure of themselves and their appearance that they didn't feel they stood out among the party people.

The party was good. There was plenty to drink, there were hot girls for the four of them to dance with. But the real kick was missing. Trey noticed that the most attractive people were heading towards a door with another group of bouncers in front of it. Trey waved his bros together and headed for the door. “Ribbon only,” grunted one of the gigantic bouncers, pressed into a black and yellow leather suit. Trey grinned. He had pocketed the ribbons and had almost forgotten about them. TTTT put the wristbands on their wrists and passed the gorillas with a grin.

Loud bass thumped at the end of the corridor. Strobe flashes flashed. There was much more yellow and black on the dance floor than on the last dance floor. And the people here were different. Beautiful. But not New England at all. Thad was reminded of Berghain in Berlin. He'd tried to get in once, but even with a wad of dollar bills he hadn't been able to get past the bouncer. But those who had managed to get in often looked like the people dancing on the dance floor here. Thad turned to look at his bros. The three of them had rushed straight onto the dance floor. In their outfits, they stood out like colorful dogs. At least their hairstyles matched the crowd on the dance floor to some extent. Thad rubbed his head. He loved the feeling of freshly shaved sides. Fuck, Trent really looked good with that badass undercut. Thad's cock was getting hard.

The four of them danced in a trance to ecstasy. The hard techno beats thumped through their bones. Every now and then, one of the TTTTs went to the bar and provided the four of them with an energy drink. Last time, the awesome bartender had also slipped Trent a few colorful pills, which the four of them washed down with the candy-sweet drink. I have no idea what time it was. But the party had only just started. According to his watch, it was 06:00 in the morning when Tanner had to go to the toilet. The room was overcrowded. A few of the athletes who had gathered here sweating were actually pissing. But most of them were sucking cock or being sucked. Damn, there was a muscular guy at the front wearing nothing but a pair of black and yellow chaps. Tanner had already noticed the guy on the dance floor. Without giving it much thought, he dropped to his knees in front of the Adonis. And sucked the first cock of his life. But no one, not Adonis, not Tanner would have thought that. It was as if it was routine on a club night.

Tanner had swallowed every drop. He wiped the rest from the corner of his mouth and made his way back to the dance floor. Maybe with a detour past the bar. There was a guy sitting at the bar who made Tanner want to get down on his knees again. The guy's bulge in his latex pants looked almost painful. The guy almost grabbed his crotch, kneaded the bulge and asked, “So, Tanner? Do you like sucking cock, you pervy pig?” Tanner winced. He knew that voice. That was… Chad!

Chad grinned, took a swig of beer and unzipped his pants. A monster jumped out of his prison like a jack-in-the-box. Tanner first licked the skin-tight latex-wrapped nipples and then ran his tongue over Chad's washboard abs to the shaved cock. Shit, Tanner was addicted to hot guys' cum. Chad leaned back and enjoyed Tanner's practiced tongue. For a semester, TTTT had taken advantage of him. Always made him feel like a second-class human being. But now? The substance he'd soaked the ribbons with seemed to be working excellently. The dumb college jocks had become techno disciples who followed their DJ gods around the planet from party to party. As guinea pigs for Chad's new employer, they would not become lawyers or investment bankers. But thanks to a lavish expense account, they would be able to lead a very hedonistic lifestyle. And whenever Chad was horny, one of the TTTT would be at his disposal.

Tienn, Tyrus, Tai and Taren were in top form. The party was far from over. They were the stars of the dance floor. Hardly anyone moved to the music like the four of them. When they weren't in the washroom servicing a hot guy they had picked up on the dance floor. One of them always had his eye on Chad. When Chad needed their services, he always had priority. All they were, they were only thanks to Chad.

Pics by @ki-kink

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #inked man #tank top #ai image #chav tf #smart to dumb #getting dumber #rubber tf #s2g #straight to gay

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nanamis-bigtie · 28 days ago

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party circle

↬ choso, geto, gojo & ino x afab!reader | lucid love ↬ lucid love masterlist // jjk masterlist // ao3 version

cw: smut, reader has a vagina (more detailed description of genitalia), college au, drunk sex, cumdumpster (reader on receiving end), group sex, piv sex, blow job, rough sex, reader is called "doll" and "thing", sprinkle of degradation and dumbification summary: you've been dared to offer yourself as a cumdumpster during a party - and you're not a wimp. you haven't expected what kind of team is going to pay you a visit word count: 2.6k a/n: yes, i am aware this text is squeezed, i have run myself against my own word limit and i still crossed it ahem tag list: @thesacredfanfics

After an hour in almost complete darkness, doing nothing but staring at the ceiling, you start to wonder if this all wasn't just a mean, drunk prank. Or another stupid test of courage, company's favorite. The party downstairs is flickering out, the voices and steps are fading, and none are heading towards you, lying half-naked in the host's guest bedroom and slowly going cold. Your heart is still fluttering like crazy and you're perking your ears for any sound nearby, but the level of your excitement is inexorably heading towards disappointment. All the commotion for nothing.

If not for your pride—and gut feeling telling you someone is secretly watching the door in case you chicken out—you would have already pulled your bottoms back up and returned to the living room. A bet is a bet, it still counts as won if someone else wimps out.

But eventually someone does come. More than one person even, you soon realize when the voices become more distinct, and you can pick some words. A few men are climbing the stairs, bantering on their way and laughing, one of them rather reluctant, you assume by the constant harsh chatter and steps heading downstairs from time to time. You can't follow the conversation but after a few tugs back and forth, you learn there are four of them, and at least one of the voices is... too familiar. Your heart, racing a moment ago, sinks; if it's someone from your class or the club, you're done for. You thought you're a solo player here, you got into the party with the invitation of a friend from outside of your college circle, and all the faces you passed by tonight were all new to you. But with so many guests gathered in a spacious house, the probability of running into someone you knew wasn't that close to zero.

When the men finally make it to the floor and stop in front of the door, you almost stop breathing. Are they looking for a free bathroom—or are they here for you? The uncertainty tears you apart the stronger, the more conflicted your thoughts grow. You don't want to find out the hard way if someone you know is in this group. But...you don't really want them to be gone, either. If you already mustered courage and offered yourself as a free-to-use party dumpster, drunk brain or not, not making that one crucial step would haunt you like a ghost. Were you surrounded by cowards? Or assholes who couldn't appreciate your body? No, with the number of advances made on you tonight, you can't really deem yourself unappreciated.

The shade of unanswered questions would remain, though. But luckily for you, the problem quickly solves itself.

"C'mon, man, don't be such a wimp." This voice is not the familiar one but comes from so close that you could swear the man is standing right by the bed. "It's likely just a stupid joke anyway."

The answer is too dull for you to understand and soon it drowns in laughter. The door creaks open, just enough to let a narrow wisp of light sneak into the room. You narrow eyes, blinded after such a long time in darkness, but you can pick silhouettes of four men peeking inside over each other. All stare right at the exposed and illumined part of your body: your left leg and hip, your cunt, and a bit of your torso and face. Instinct yells at you to cover yourself, you spread your legs wider instead, with no word spoken and hoping your guests have enough sober brain cells to connect the dots.

"It's...not a joke." The man from the previous line stands right in the front and his voice falters a little. The other right behind his back, shamelessly resting chin on his shoulder, whistles with appreciation.

"Hey, Kamo, you're in luck today," he turns around and flicks the light on. "I think that's Y/N."

Kamo? Choso Kamo? Why HIM of all familiar people who possibly could wander into this party?

You're hanging on a string of hope that maybe, just maybe, there are more guys going by this family name, and the one here is not Choso, your club crush, but once your eyes get used to light and all four of them step inside, you understand how screwed you are even before they pull their dicks out.

It is Choso, the reluctant one, leaning against the door with arms crossed and looking everywhere but at your face, his own scarlet red to the tips of his ears. But what's even worse, you recognize the other three as well.

Suguru Geto, probably the most wanted man at your college, skimming your figure curiously from his spot at the front.

Leaning against him, Satoru Gojo, the star of the football team and his best friend, currently shamelessly staring right at your cunt.

More reserved than those two but as interested Takuma Ino, your friend's ex fuck buddy and a notorious party animal.

"It's been a while, huh?" He's the one who tries to initiate conversation, awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to another. "This is not some crazy prank, right?"

"A bet, I heard." You understand now why Satoru has always been described as equally weird and handsome; the way his gaze is drilling into you sends shivers down your spine. And you can't decide if you hate it...or quite contrary.

With Choso staying behind, the men surround the bed, and you can't shake off the impression that they're cornering you like prey. Neither of them pounces on you though, the awkward tension almost unbearable—but at the same time clearly exciting for everyone involved. With initial shock fading away, replaced by the same excitement that prompted you to boldly announce in which room you're waiting for anyone as brave as you, you're slowly getting back into the groove. Racing heart pumps hot blood into the right veins, simmering lust perks its head up, your muscles relax and allow you to spread your legs as far as you can. Invitingly, you hope, and from the surrounding faces you can read you're understood well.

"Alright, doll, we gotta turn you around, or our virgin won't budge from his place." Satoru shamelessly pulls you to the edge of bed, then flips you face down. Another pair of hands helps you lift your hips until you find a comfortable and stable position.

"Shit, look at that..." Wooden floor creaks as one of them kneels down, his breath so hot against your exposed slit. He traces it with a thumb, gently, but enough to make your breathing heavier. "All wet and ready."

Someone else's big and warm hands knead your ass and spread your cheeks open. Curious thumb grazes your clit, long fingers slide inside you, two at once, and reach so deep your eyes roll into the back of your head. Long wait has worked up your appetite, your heat has built itself up steady and exploded as soon as your cunt has been touched. They soon grow bolder too, encouraged by your dripping slick and noises you make. The banter and dirty praises melt into white noise behind your back, mixed with the clicks of unbuckled belts and pants shoved down to the ankles.

Someone's impatient cock slots itself against your rim, steals a shallow, wet thrust, followed by laughter from the other two. The eager one is pulled away, hungry hands leave your cunt empty and pulsing, not without a disappointed whine of yours. You wiggle your hips, the craving of being filled stronger than the prior awkwardness and your pride.

"Virgins come first." It's Takuma's voice that breaks through the white noise.

A few steps creak back, there's a short tussle and the fourth man is forced to come closer. In the last moment of clear-headedness, your heart skips a beat; you fight against the instinct to look back at Choso. You've been turned around for a reason, despite temptation you want to respect it. You can't control the excited spasm of your cunt, though, much to men's loud enthusiasm.

"C'mon, don't make Y/N wait."

There's hesitation in Choso's touch. He reaches for you with both hands, just tracing your ass and hips at first, before he gives your curve the first, testing squeeze. You hear him groan, sound barely audible yet standing out with its characteristic timbre. You would recognize this knee-melting voice everywhere—and in this situation you react to it hundreds times stronger. You shove your hips back, bumping against his crotch, feeling the outline of his erection through his pants.

He groans again, nails sinking into your skin almost painfully.

Someone helps him with his pants when he's holding on to you for his dear life. He lets go of you with one hand, just enough to line himself up and guide his awkward thrusts towards your entrance. Clumsiness and need behind his moves drive you crazy; he's really losing his v-card with you, just like that, watched by his friends, drunk, with a party toy you've become. And as much as you want to make it easier for him, as soon as his throbbing length slots itself in you, finally easing the itching craving, you squeeze him tight and push your hips against him.

You want everything he can offer, the sooner, the better.

"Fuck..." Choso mutters through clenched teeth, his pulse running crazy as you clench again, stronger. He won't last long, you can tell as much despite the fever overpowering every single one of your senses. Fuck, indeed. The thought of milking him dry so early adds fuel to burning fire; you take over the situation and grind against him, forcing him to follow suit with his awkward, desperate thrusts, until he suddenly stills and fills you up, with the most pathetic, beautiful moan you've heard from a man.

He starts leaning over your back, his hot breath nearly brushing against your skin, but he's pulled away as fast as he's been dragged to mount you. A different hand kneads your ass; it's Takuma, you guess from the breathy whimper he lets out when he's sliding the head of his cock between your wet folds. He doesn't lose his time either, soon filling your hungry cunt again and rutting inside, short but deep and strong thrusts.

"Squeezin' tight," he growls, shifting the weight and balance of your bodies forward. He places one hand on your back and pushes you down, forcing you to arch your hips and take him even deeper.

You risk a glance over your shoulder. Vision hazy and set under a weird angle, you can't see much but Takuma's face, flushed and beaming with pleasure, and Satoru peeking curiously at your entrance, working hard to swallow every single one of the thrust. He's stroking himself, the tip of his tongue peeking through his lips, so engrossed by the show he's almost bearing down on Takuma's back. Neither of them seem to notice, only one goal on their minds.

You're almost brought to your high this time but Takuma is there first, his last thrust almost tripping you over with the unexpected power. You end up pushed into the mattress, the sights mercilessly yanked away from you, and the next man in line doesn't give you a chance to collect himself.

Satoru is much bigger than the other two. His size takes you by surprise; you mewl loud at the sudden stretch, then almost scream when he slots himself so deep that he's poking at your cervix. He doesn't show you mercy at all, both hands holding your hips in place as he's fucking the brain out of you like a jackhammer. It's brutal, it's almost painful, it's so fucking good you're moaning and crying at the same time. The stretch and friction are frying your nerves; you're yanked into orgasm with his thrusts alone, and he doesn't stop even for a second, instead forcing you to stay still, one foot resting at the edge of the bed. Against his strength, you're nothing but a puppet, a sex toy he's moving with no regards for your state.

But even he has limits and soon you're again filled to the brim. You're not able to hold it inside any longer, the mix of cum and your juices drips out of your used hole as your legs tremble, without the support soon to collapse. The last man comes to your aid, his hold is surprisingly tender but as strong as Satoru's. He takes his time, the privilege of the last in the queue, making sure you're stable and collected before he steals the first thrust, shallow, just enough to slide his tip against the mess.

You're trembling from just this little, so overstimulated you're seeing white even without orgasm.

"You poor thing," Suguru coos and traces free hand against your sweaty back. "He's ruined you so much, that monster."

Satoru scoffs, the mattress dips by your side as he throws himself right next to you. He holds your chin and forces you to look at him. The sadistic, almost maniac, look in his terrifying eyes has your cunt fluttering.

"Be careful, poor thing," he mimics Suguru and slides a thumb between your lips. "He's the real monster here."

In contrast, Suguru moves so gently it's...frustrating. He gathers the cum leaking out of you with the head of his cock before he slides it into you slow and deep, then stills until frustration takes over you and makes you find some power to press hips against him.

He clicks his tongue, laughter shadowing over his words, "Don't be like that. You need to savor your strength."

Suguru moves so slow, terrifying with his precision for the first time he's having you. He touches you more than just having you in place, he traces your sides, back, nape, pinches your nipples and meticulously wanders down again, between your shaking thighs. You almost choke on sharp inhale when he rubs your clit, your mewls held back by Satoru's thumb fucking your mouth, then by his big tongue sliding deep inside. Looking for breath, you try to shake him off—Suguru's hold, fingers knotted tight in your hair, forces you to stay still, until you're shaking and melting, and Satoru has to withdraw.

"Don't be too rough," Takuma is on your other side, sounding concerned but still stroking himself, as far as you're aware by the sounds.

"We're just playing." Suguru's voice is sweet like honey, soft and comforting—and you believe him, let him coax you into comfort before he shows his true colors again and yanks you up and straight by your hair.

Eyes filled with tears, you try to support yourself on trembling arms and ease the tension in your scalp and neck. Merciless hand guides you to other side, right into Choso's cock poking at your lips. You catch a glimpse of his face, bright pink with a blush but his eyes are dark with lust, gaze fixed at your tongue instinctually lolled out of your mouth. Takuma nudges him closer, almost forces him to slip himself into you, the tip of his dick poking at the back of your throat and making you gag.

Satoru's hand replaces Suguru's; he uses your head to get Choso off as the other man speeds up his thrusts, using your cunt without any mercy now. He pulls almost completely out right before he cums, his seed leaking out of your used hole. Next in line Takuma doesn't bother to shove it back, his thrusts push more of it out, the whole mess dripping on the sheets.

I need to pay for cleaning, the last thought crosses your mind before it gives in to pleasure—no, to ecstasy, no more sanity, just waves of your high washing over you over and over again as their cocks fill your cunt and mouth in turns and you're nothing but a trembling mess.

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honeekyuu · 3 months ago

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talk too much. [suna rintarou x reader] introductions.

two losers and a supermodel

yn + friends !

yn: math major, 4th year; thought about becoming a math teacher after college but realized at some point that she doesnt have that kind of patience. considering grad school or dropping out entirely, it really depends on the day. writes creatively in her free time

alisa: also a math major, 4th year; literally never in classes or school at all because she's always at modeling gigs around the world. somehow has better grades than yn

suga: education major, 4th year; despises math with a burning passion. has one special interest and it's sea creatures. everyone thinks hes the sweetest thing but alisayn know better. hes crazy

alisugayn were placed in the same dorm in their 1st year -- alisayn roommates and suga across the hall (his roommate was kita, they still get along and talk regularly)

daily affirmations (/derogatory)

suna + friends !

suna: fine arts major, 4th year; wants to be a tattoo artist. does not realize how hot he is (he's such a loser). roped into daily affirmations by komori, who wanted to create a club dedicated to boosting campus morale and self esteem. he's been trying to get out of it for over a year now because daily affirmations has so many members that they really dont need him anymore

komori: econ major, 4th year; he's kind of evil lmao. he really did start daily aff with good intentions and he really cares about running it well, but when he realized how big it had gotten he kind of regretted making it a free service LMAOOO he 100% plans to use daily aff and its success as a portfolio point for the job market. treats it like hes running an actual company even though everything is free and unpaid

kita: agriculture major, 4th year; big fan of sending plant facts to his partners in order to cheer them up. very kind, a fan favorite. super polite and often used as an example when komori gives the yearly "welcome to daily aff" talk

komosuna are high school best friends. komori dragged suna kicking and screaming to form daily aff in their first year so that he could reach the minimum member requirement to register clubs to the university (the third was sakusa, who dropped out the MOMENT another member signed up). komori pulled suna into a group chat with kita as an "intervention" when suna started getting a little too sassy with his partners. they just kept the gc going

Application for Daily Affirmations

i'm here again, talkin' myself out of // my own happiness

talk too much [renee rapp].

#suna rintarou #suna x reader #suna smut #suna smau #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu smau #haikyuu smut #hq smut #haikyuu texts #hq texts

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goddessofvalyria · 3 months ago

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THE NERD BOY | Michael Gavey x fem!oc

Summary: Mabel is a rich pretty American girl who moves to Oxford to study. One day, the nerd Michael Gavey notices her in the library pining for mathematics. The boy offers his help and soon a strange understanding is born between the two…

TW: 18+, MINORS DNI, She/Her pronouns, the fem!oc is named Mabel with black eyes and hair, oral (m receiving), SMUT, sexual tension, sex, sex, sex, Michael being insecure.

English is not my first language, be kind <3

This is my Masterlist

Words: 4243

Mabel Reyes was the kind of girl who turned heads everywhere she went. She had that effortless beauty, the kind that made people whisper and stare in admiration. Her long black hair always seemed to catch the light just right, and her brown eyes sparkled with a confidence that came from knowing she was the queen bee of any social circle she entered. Back in California, she had ruled her high school like queen, with her impeccable grades and a cheerleading record that was the stuff of legend. She was the girl everyone wanted to be or be with, and she wore that title with pride.

But Oxford was different. Mabel had left behind the sun-kissed beaches of California for the misty mornings and historic halls of the University of Oxford. It was a place where her reputation had preceded her, whispers of the beautiful American girl with rich parents had quickly spread through the ancient stone walls. By the end of her first week, everyone knew her name. The daughters and sons of Britain's elite were drawn to her like moths to a flame, particularly a group led by the charismatic Felix Catton. Felix and his friends were Oxford's version of royalty, and Mabel fit in with them perfectly.

They spent their weekends in London, sipping cocktails in exclusive clubs and being photographed by paparazzi, their every move chronicled by society pages. Mabel dazzled them with stories of her glamorous life, tales of sailing in the Caribbean, and surfing in Australia. She spoke of America with a fondness that made it sound like a paradise, and she hinted at the life waiting for her after graduation—a life of luxury, managing her family's fashion empire back in California.

But beneath the surface, Mabel was struggling. Her academic record had always been spotless, but maths had never been her strong suit. Now, in the hallowed halls of Oxford, the pressure was mounting. The looming exams were like a dark cloud over her, especially the thought of failing math class. It was the one subject she couldn't charm her way through, and it terrified her.

One late afternoon, the library was nearly deserted, and Mabel was slumped over a pile of textbooks, her usually flawless appearance slightly disheveled. She had been staring at the same page of equations for what felt like hours, the numbers and symbols blurring together. She was used to things coming easily to her likes literature and history, but math was like a foreign language she couldn't decode.

That's when she noticed someone standing nearby, a figure she hadn't expected to see in her orbit. Michael Gavey was the polar opposite of everything Mabel embodied. Where she was glamorous, he was unassuming; where she was surrounded by friends, he was totally alone. But Michael was a math genius, known throughout the university for his brilliance and to be the most loser boy ever. He was the kind of person who preferred the company of books to people, someone who lived in his own world of numbers and theories.

He approached her hesitantly, as if unsure whether he should intrude on her space. "You look like you could use some help" he said quietly, his voice soft but clear.

Mabel looked up, surprised. For a moment, she considered brushing him off, but the desperation in her chest won out. "I really don’t get this" she admitted, her voice tinged with frustration. "Math has never been my thing."

Michael nodded, understanding her struggle more than she knew. He pulled up a chair and sat down beside her, his presence calming in a way she hadn't expected. "Let me show you" he offered, and for the next hour, he patiently explained the concepts that had been eluding her.

As they worked together, Mabel found herself relaxing, her usual defenses lowering as she realized that Michael wasn’t there to judge her. He was just there to help.

As the weeks passed, Mabel Reyes found herself surprisingly drawn to the company of Michael Gavey. What had started as a purely practical arrangement—using Michael's brilliance in math to help her pass—had slowly transformed into something more. With each study session, she began to appreciate his quiet intelligence, his dry sense of humor, and the way he never treated her like the celebrity she was used to being. Michael saw her as Mabel, not the glamorous American heiress or the popular girl everyone envied, but just Mabel.

Word of their unlikely partnership spread through Oxford like wildfire. It was the kind of story that people couldn’t resist: the nerdy, awkward boy and the beautiful, popular girl, straight out of a rom-com. People gossiped about them, whispered as they passed by in the halls, and even made bets on whether something more would happen between them. But Michael, in his usual fashion, seemed completely unfazed by the attention. He never cared what others thought, and he made that clear during one of their study sessions.

It was a chilly afternoon, and they were tucked away in a quiet corner of the library, the same place where Michael had first offered his help. Mabel was struggling with a particularly difficult equation, her frustration growing as she scribbled out yet another wrong answer. Sensing her tension, Michael calmly walked her through the problem step by step, his voice patient and steady.

After they finished, Mabel leaned back in her chair and sighed. "I heard there's going to be a big Christmas party soon. Felix and the others are all excited about it," she mentioned casually, glancing at Michael to gauge his reaction.

Michael didn’t look up from the book he was paging through. "I was NFI: not fucking invited" he replied, his tone neutral but with a hint of indifference.

Mabel frowned. "Why not? There will be all the college!"

Michael shook his head, a small, almost bitter smile on his lips. "Michael Gavey doesn’t exist in the eyes of others. And honestly, I don’t care about their stupid lives. They’re all wrapped up in their own little bubbles. I’m just not part of that world, and I’m fine with it."

His words struck a chord with Mabel. For so long, she had been the center of attention, the one everyone wanted to be around. But with Michael, she was reminded that not everyone was drawn to the same superficial allure that had defined her life so far. She looked at him, really looked at him, and noticed the faint blush creeping up his neck as he kept his eyes on the book. It was then that she realized something she hadn’t noticed before: Michael had developed a crush on her.

At first, she had used his feelings to her advantage, making sure he would continue to tutor her. But now, things were different. She had come to value his friendship and his company, and she didn��t want to hurt him. He was the only person who saw her for who she truly was, not just a pretty face with a wealthy background. And that mattered to her more than she wanted to admit.

The Christmas party was only a few days away, and as the date approached, Mabel found herself feeling more conflicted. Normally, she would have been excited about dressing up, being the center of attention, and partying with her friends. But this year, something felt off. She couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, the party wasn’t where she wanted to be.

That evening, as she sat in front of her vanity mirror, carefully applying her makeup and fixing her hair, she couldn’t help but think about Michael. She pictured him, alone in his room or maybe at the library, completely uninterested in the glitz and glamour that surrounded her life. Part of her wanted to be at the party, to enjoy herself and live up to the expectations everyone had for her. But another part of her wondered what it would be like to spend the evening differently, away from the spotlight and with someone who truly understood her.

As she finished getting ready, she stared at her reflection, feeling a tug in her heart. For the first time in a long time, Mabel wasn’t sure what she wanted. The Christmas party was just hours away, but whether she would actually attend was a question she couldn’t yet answer.

Mabel stared at her reflection in the mirror, taking in every detail. Her silver dress clung to her figure perfectly, shimmering with every movement. The high boots added a touch of boldness to her elegant look, and her hair was styled to perfection, not a strand out of place. Her makeup was flawless, highlighting her already striking features. She was the epitome of beauty, the kind of girl who could stop traffic with just a glance.

But as she gazed at herself, a strange feeling washed over her. This was the image everyone expected of her—the glamorous, perfect Mabel Reyes. Yet tonight, it felt like a mask she no longer wanted to wear.

She took a deep breath, stepping away from the mirror and grabbing her coat. The party was waiting, and she knew she’d be the center of attention as soon as she arrived. But as she walked through the corridors of the old Oxford building, her heels clicking against the stone floors, doubts began to creep in. Each step felt heavier, as if something was pulling her back.

Halfway to the party, Mabel stopped. She could hear the faint sounds of music and laughter in the distance, but instead of feeling drawn to it, she felt a growing desire to be somewhere else. With someone else.

Without giving herself time to overthink, she turned around and headed back in the opposite direction. Her heart raced as she made her way to Michael's room, a decision forming in her mind with every step.

Michael was in his room, completely absorbed in solving a complex equation. Numbers and symbols danced across the pages of his notebook, the familiar comfort of mathematics grounding him in his solitude. The Christmas party was the furthest thing from his mind; he had never been one for social events, especially those where he felt like an outsider.

But then, there was a knock at his door. It was unexpected—no one ever knocked on his door, especially not during party hours. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if it was a mistake. But the knock came again, more insistent this time.

He got up and opened the door, and there she was: Mabel Reyes, the most beautiful girl in all of Oxford, standing in front of him. The sight of her took his breath away. The silver dress, the high boots, the impeccable hair—all of it made her look like she had just stepped out of a dream. But there was something different in her eyes, a softness that he hadn’t seen before.

“Mabel?” Michael stammered, utterly confused. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at the party?”

Instead of answering, Mabel took a step closer, her gaze locked on his. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, a mix of nerves and excitement swirling inside her. Michael, with his slightly tousled blond hair, glasses slipping down his nose, and that familiar sweater vest, looked up at her with wide eyes, clearly baffled by her presence.

Without a word, Mabel reached out, grabbing him by the front of his sweater. In one swift motion, she pulled him towards her and kissed him. The kiss was soft yet firm, a collision of two worlds that had seemed so far apart until now. Michael froze for a moment, completely taken by surprise, before he slowly started to kiss her back, his hands hesitantly finding their way to her waist.

As she stepped into his room, the door closing behind them, Mabel felt a wave of relief. She had no idea what this meant or where it would lead, but right now, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the connection she felt with Michael, something genuine and untainted by the expectations of others.

They pulled apart, both a little breathless, and Michael stared at her, still in shock. “Mabel, what—why did you do that?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Mabel smiled, a real, unguarded smile. “Because I wanted to” she said simply, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. “I didn’t want to be at the party. I wanted to be here, with you.”

Michael blinked, as if trying to process her words. “But...why me? You could be anywhere right now, with anyone.”

“Exactly” Mabel replied, her voice soft but certain. “But I’m here. You’ve been the only person who sees me for who I am, not just what I look like or where I come from. You’ve been real with me, Michael, and I needed that.”

The weight of her words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, slowly, a smile began to spread across Michael’s face, one that lit up his usually serious expression. He couldn’t quite believe what was happening, but he didn’t want it to end.

Mabel stepped closer again, resting her head against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. It felt right, in a way she hadn’t expected. And as they stood there, holding each other in the quiet of his room, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in their own little universe.

Michael stood there, his heart racing as he processed what had just happened. The girl he had admired from afar, the one he never imagined would even notice him, had just kissed him. And now, she was standing in his room, looking at him with a smile that made him feel both exhilarated and terrified.

“That…that was my first kiss" he confessed shy, his voice trembling slightly. He had never felt so vulnerable in his life, but there was something about Mabel that made him want to be honest.

Mabel's expression softened as she took in his words. She had suspected as much, but hearing it from him made her realize just how different their worlds were. Yet here they were, together in this moment. “Well, I’m glad I could be your first,” she said with a gentle smile.

She reached down and began to unlace her high boots, sliding them off one by one. Then, without hesitation, she climbed onto his bed and patted the space next to her. “Come here” she invited, her tone playful yet sincere.

Michael hesitated, nerves tying his stomach in knots. This was all so new to him, and he wasn’t sure what to do next. But he couldn’t resist the pull he felt towards her. Slowly, he walked over and sat down beside her, his hands fidgeting in his lap. He was tense, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts, none of which made any sense.

“What now?” he asked nervously, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

Mabel looked around his room, taking in the shelves filled with books, the stacks of papers covered in equations, and the general chaos that was the domain of a true academic. It was exactly what she had expected—a space that reflected Michael’s brilliant but solitary mind. She turned back to him, her smile widening as she realized just how innocent he was.

“I’m guessing that if that was your first kiss...” she began, her voice teasing, “you’ve never had a girlfriend either?”

Michael shook his head, his blush deepening as he met her gaze. “No, never” he admitted, feeling a mix of embarrassment and nervousness. He had always been focused on his studies, never even considering the possibility of a relationship, let alone one with someone like Mabel.

Mabel’s smile turned mischievous as she stood up in front of him, looking down at him with a twinkle in her eye. “Mmh, Gavey” she murmured, her voice soft but full of intent. She reached for the straps of her silver dress, and with a slow, deliberate motion, she let it slide off her shoulders, the fabric pooling at her feet.

Michael’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of her standing there in front of him, completely vulnerable and utterly breathtaking. His face turned a deep shade of red, and he quickly averted his eyes, not sure where to look or what to do.

Mabel, seeing his discomfort, stepped closer and gently lifted his chin, forcing him to meet her gaze. “It’s okay, Michael,” she whispered, her voice soothing. “You don’t have to be nervous.”

But he was nervous, more than he had ever been in his life. He had no idea how to navigate this situation, and the fear of doing something wrong was almost paralyzing. Yet, the warmth of her presence, the softness in her voice, made him want to try, to take a step into this unknown territory with her.

Mabel leaned in and kissed him again, this time slower, deeper, her hands resting on his shoulders. Michael closed his eyes and tried to focus on the feeling of her lips on his, letting go of his fears, if only for a moment. When they pulled apart, she guided him to stand up, her hands trailing down his arms.

She could see how tense he was, but she also saw the trust in his eyes, the way he was willing to let her lead. And in that moment, Mabel realized that this wasn’t just about physical attraction or desire; it was about connecting with someone on a deeper level, someone who saw her for who she truly was.

Mabel stood in front of Michael, now wearing only a lace thong and no bra, her boobs were big and round. Her confidence was unshakable, while Michael was visibly flustered, unsure of where to look or what to do next. His glasses fogged up slightly, and he fumbled with his hands, trying to figure out where to place them. The reality of the situation was overwhelming, and he could feel his heart racing in his chest.

Noticing his discomfort, Mabel stepped closer and gently reached up, removing his glasses. She set them aside on the nearby desk, her touch soft and reassuring. “You don’t need these right now” she said with a smile, her voice low and soothing.

Michael blinked, trying to adjust to the sudden blur of the room without his glasses, but Mabel was the only thing he could focus on. Her closeness, her warmth—it was all consuming. He swallowed hard, still feeling awkward and unsure, but Mabel’s presence was calming.

She could see how nervous he was, and she knew she needed to ease his anxiety. “It’s okay, Michael,” she whispered, her hands resting gently on his shoulders. “You don’t have to worry about anything. I’ll guide you.”

Mabel’s words were like a lifeline, something for him to hold onto in the midst of his swirling thoughts. He nodded slightly, trusting her to lead him through this unfamiliar territory.

With that, Mabel leaned in, closing the gap between them, and began kissing him softly. Her lips moved against his with a tenderness that was both comforting and exhilarating. Michael was stiff at first, unsure of how to respond, but Mabel was patient. She took her time, her hands moving to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, urging him to relax.

Gradually, Michael began to respond, his lips mirroring hers as he let go of some of his tension. Mabel’s hands wandered down his back, feeling the slight tremble in his muscles as she deepened the kiss. She pressed her body against his, feeling the heat between them intensify.

Michael’s mind was spinning, the sensation of Mabel’s skin against his, her scent, the softness of her lips—it was all overwhelming, yet he found himself getting lost in the moment, letting her guide him as she had promised.

As their kisses grew more passionate, Mabel could feel Michael beginning to relax, his awkwardness melting away under her touch. She knew this was all new to him, and she wanted to make it a moment he would never forget, a memory they would both cherish.

Mabel pulled back slightly, her lips just inches from his, and whispered, “Just follow my lead, Michael.” Her eyes searched his for any sign of hesitation, but what she saw was trust, and something more—desire.

With a reassuring smile, she guided his hands to her waist, encouraging him to explore, to take the next step. Michael hesitated for only a moment before his hands moved cautiously over her skin, his touch gentle, almost reverent.

Mabel kissed him again, more urgently this time, letting him know that it was okay to let go, to embrace what was happening between them. And slowly, Michael began to do just that, surrendering to the moment, to her, as the rest of the world faded away.

Mabel took off his sweater and shirt, stopping to admire his bare chest. "Do you go to the gym Gavey?" she said with a smirk, noting his defined chest and toned arms. "When... when no one sees me" he revealed shyly.

Stripped of his clothes and wearing only black boxers, he felt uncomfortable. "I've never had sex" he declared. "I... I've never touched... a... girl" he continued embarrassed. Mabel, sitting on his hips could feel the hardness of his masculinity. "Fuck Gavey" she whispered.

"I'd like that" he continued embarrassed. "With you" he added, shyly encircling her hips with his hands. "If you like" he looked up at her. "Mmh yes, Gavey" Mabel whispered. She rose from his hips. "Look at me" she ordered, slowly slipping off her lace panties.

"You can keep them" she whispered, naked in front of him Michael felt paralyzed. he couldn't take his eyes off her. Mabel climbed back onto the bed, on top of him. "I can do something to make you feel better" she whispered kissing him, slowly moving her kisses down. she felt michael tremble, she grabbed his hand to give him confidence. Then she pulled down his boxers, revealing his big fat cock. She smiled at Michael before taking him between her lips, sucking him and feeling him give under her touch. The nerdy boy started to pant, that girl was demonic.

Mabel got even more excited, sucking and licking him, she felt herself soaking wet between the things. she didn't make him come, she stood up licking her lips, leaving Michael hard and erect. "Why---" he moaned.

"My pretty and nerdy boy" she began looking at him. "Do you want to fuck me, Michael Gavey?" Mabel asked. Michael felt himself blushing, he looked at his erection. "I... I would like that" he whispered. "Look" Mabel whispered, bringing two fingers between her legs and showing them to the little nerd. "I'm soaking wet and horny because of you"

Michael felt himself faint, his breathing becoming heavy. "Do you have a condom?" he asked. "Fuck, no, sorry I-" Michael began.

"Don't worry, I'm on the pill" Mabel replied, lifting her hips. "Say goodbye to the little virgin nerd Michael Gavey" Mabel whispered, letting Michael's big cock invade her.

"Oh fuck Michael" she cried as she started to move, she put her hands on his chest riding him, michael brought his hands around her hips helping her move. She was so hot, so wet, tight... god, she was driving him crazy. Mabel was riding him so good, so easy.

Michael reached up to her breasts, touching her sore nipples. Mabel found herself moaning his name, riding him so fucking good that Michael felt the need to come. "Look at you," she whispered, cupping his face with one hand. "You're so cute, Gavey..." she teased him again, and soon Michael hardened and came inside her.

Mabel closed her eyes, clenching around his cock, coming on top of him. She collapsed on top of him, shaking and sweating, her makeup running.

Michael hugged her. "I know you like me," she whispered against his ear. "You have a girlfriend now, Michael Gavey."

Michael felt his heart explode with joy.

He had a girlfriend.

He was loved.

"If you want to," she whispered, still lying on his chest. "I... I'd like that, pretty girl," Michael whispered. Mabel smiled, sitting up.

"Ah" she groaned in pain. "My legs hurt." Michael looked at her. "You fucked me so good, my little nerdy boy." Michael sat up, gently took the blanket from the bed and handed it to her. "Sleep with me," he offered. "Of course I'll sleep with you," Mabel whispered, still naked, slipping under the sheets.

Michael let her have the side of the bed next to the wall, she rested her head on his shoulder. "I like you Michael, I really like you," Mabel whispered.

"Two weeks after you started tutoring me, I broke up with my boyfriend," she declared. "I was with him because my parents made me."

Michael felt a tightness in his chest. "With you, I felt free to be who I wanted to be and you accepted me." Michael turned onto his side, caressing her face and warming her with his body.

"My little nerdy boy," Mabel whispered, kissing him so intensely that it made his insides tremble.

Finally, Michael Gavey was happy and proud to be the little nerd boy.

#michael gavey #saltburn #smut #ewan mitchell #saltburn posting #michael gavey x reader #nerd boy #michael gavey smut #michael gavey fanfic #oneshot #felix catton #oliver quick #saltburn fic

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everparanoid · 1 year ago

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Headcanon: university student! Wriothesley

University student! Wriothesley x gn! reader

tags: fluff - word count: 1.2k

Wriothesley is what you would call 'the misunderstood "bad boy".' That is to say, he isn't bad at all but rather has a bad-boy exterior that intimidates your peers.

Wriothesley, as a student, is the quiet type and can seem threatening at first glance. But once you get to know him, you realise he’s quite relaxed and has a sharp wit. He’s always seen with a flask in hand, leading everyone to assume it contains alcohol. But it’s filled with tea. He doesn’t bother taking notes during lectures because he’s already read all the material for the class. His attendance at lectures is more about the atmosphere than the content, and it was even rarer before he met you.

Even the professors noticed a change in his attitude towards attendance after he met you. It was as if your presence sparked a newfound interest in him to attend lectures more regularly despite already knowing the material.

At the start of the second term, you arrive late to the lecture. To avoid the walk of shame down the stairs to find your friends, you choose to sit next to him at the back of the lecture hall. You side-eye him cautiously the entire time. However, the moment he turns to offer you some tea from his flask, you realise you have misjudged him. You’ve been sitting with him ever since.

If you happen to be in the same seminar group, Wriothesley will bring an extra flask lid to share his tea with you just in case. He’ll also catch you up on any notes you missed while daydreaming or dozing off from a late night of studying.

Wriothesley always hangs back after class, patiently waiting as you pack up your bag. Then, he walks you back to your place, even though his place is on the other side of campus. He says it’s because he enjoys the extra time to discuss the day’s lecture with you. In reality, he simply enjoys your company in any form--no matter the subject of conversation, and the long walk back to his place is just a small price to pay for that.

Wriothesley is the student you never see on campus unless you actively go looking for him. He’s part of the boxing society, so he often comes to lectures and seminars covered in bandages, which only fuels the rumours of him running an underground fight club.

Wriothesley often assumes leadership roles and no one objects. His presence commands both respect and a certain level of fear. It’s not that he actively seeks these positions he just doesn't like injustice. In fact, rumour has it that the previous president of the boxing society abandoned his post after Wriothesley challenged him to a match. The challenge was to verify if the president was truly as skilled as he claimed, or if he was merely rigging matches in his favor. As it turned out, the president was a no-show for the match, leaving the society without a leader. That day, it was unanimously decided that Wriothesley would assume the president’s duties. And he did so without batting an eye. You had been relieved by the strangely peaceful turn of events.

Wriothesley has an anonymous fan club of people who submit extremely blurry pictures and updates of him around campus, unbeknownst to him. You once opened your Instagram to see a picture of him holding the door open for a fellow student, followed by another picture of him helping one of the known aggressive campus cats down from a tree. You'd followed the Instagram page as a joke, but the images were quite cute, so you never unfollowed.

Wriothesley isn’t on any social media platforms, so you two keep in touch via text messages. Initially, you had him saved in your contacts as ‘His Grace’, a playful nod to the way people treat him with the reverence of a duke. But now, you’ve changed his name to ‘Ricecake’, much to his chagrin. He regrets ever letting you in on that annoying nickname. You’re always curious about how he has you saved in his phone. He teases you by saying he’ll show you if you can correctly answer three questions about the class material. But he’s crafty, always making the last question about something you haven’t covered yet in the readings. So, to this day, you still don’t know what your name is on his phone, and you probably never will. That’s just how Wriothesley is, always keeping you on your toes.

Every week, before the lecture, Wriothesley sends you a text asking what you’d like from the campus cafe. He knows your order by heart and doesn’t really need to ask. Plus, he always has his own tea prepared in his flask, so he doesn’t need to spend money there. But he does it anyway, just to see the smile on your face when you rush into the lecture hall, inevitably late, but relieved to have your weekly fix. Initially, he started doing this in an attempt to help you avoid being late to lectures, which didn’t quite work out. But over time, it’s become a habit he cherishes.

Wriothesley is your steadfast study partner in the library. Despite your best intentions, you often find yourself falling asleep at your keyboard, promising each time that it won’t happen again. Yet, there you are, waking up to find fifty pages of the letter ‘L’ on your Word document, and Wriothesley’s large jacket draped over you like a warm blanket. He continues to work quietly beside you, unfazed by your slumber. He doesn’t mind the late nights. In fact, he prefers them, especially when he’s in your company. And even after pulling an all-nighter, he somehow manages to look more put-together than you in your shared 8:30am class the next morning. Every time you call him out on this, he just laughs.

One night, you’re in the library with Wriothesley, half-asleep, buried under a three-thousand-word essay due by noon the next day. In the midst of this academic haze, Wriothesley looks up from his laptop and asks you out on a date.

"You know, there’s this supposedly fantastic spot in town I think we should check out after we're both done with all of this. That is, if you’d like to accompany me?" he suggests. His words hang in the air, a question wrapped in casual conversation.

Startled, you lift your head, which had been precariously balanced on your hand, and quickly wipe away the trace of drool from your mouth. "Huh?" you manage to utter, caught off guard.

Wriothesley leans back in his chair, a fond smile playing on his lips. It’s a look you’ve seen before, but never really pondered over. He’s often looked at you this way, so it’s not entirely unexpected. Yet, this time, it feels different, as if it carries a deeper meaning.

With a hint of amusement in his eyes, he repeats, "I am asking if you’d like to go on a date with me?"

It doesn't surprise anyone when you walk into the lecture late holding hands with Wriothesley. From the beginning, everyone, including your professors, had suspicions about the two of you. After all, the pairing of the quiet, bad boy and you, who always arrived late to lectures, seemed inevitable.

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#wriothesley fanfic #wriothesley imagines #genshin fanfic #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #gn reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin fluff #genshin headcanons #wriothesley headcanons #wriothesley #college au #gender neutral reader #i have an unhealthy obsession

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starboyshoyo · 2 years ago

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Crush Headcanons

Characters: Riddle Rosehearts, Ace Trappola, Leona Kingscholar, Floyd Leech

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Genre: Fluff

How the NRC boys act when they have a crush, and how they try to win your heart over!

Riddle Rosehearts

Ah, yes. Our favorite emotionally-stunted dormwarden, Riddle Rosehearts. There’s not much of a precursor to him realizing he has feelings for you. One night, a few months into your friendship, Riddle will notice that he enjoys your company even more so than Trey or Cater. And then it hits him. Oh, he has a crush.

His demeanor around you will do a complete 180 after that. While before, he would talk casually with you about any and all subject matter, he’s not so sure how to approach it anymore. He’ll go up to you in the hallways between classes and during free periods, back stiff as a board, and ask you to accompany him to the library to run some errands, or he’ll extend a gracious invitation to an unbirthday party next week. Yes, those are his exact words.

You’ll be left wondering why Riddle’s demeanor has changed so much around you until you realize that he’s following all the steps to initiating a relationship from the NRC Gentleman’s Club Guide to Courting, 3rd Edition. Either that, or Trey will tell you outright to your face that Riddle is trying his best to win you over, he knows you like Riddle too, please just take him off of Trey’s hands for a while.

Speaking of pawning Riddle off to be someone else’s problem, that’s exactly what most of Heartslabyul dorm will be doing once they catch onto Riddle’s feelings for you. They’ll keep you around as much as possible, because when you’re around, Riddle will try his best to keep himself contained. He could be right in the middle of shouting off with your head to a group of freshmen, but the moment you enter he stops dead in his tracks and lets them off with a warning. The first years scramble out of the room, silently thanking a higher power for sending them a guardian angel in their time of need.

Cater is the best wingman Riddle could ask for, except that he didn’t ask for him. Regardless of how many times Riddle tells him that he wants to court you himself like a proper romantic candidate, Cater will insist that he needs to be more flashy about it! He can still be a classic man and be a bit more modern! Why doesn’t Riddle take you on a fancy dinner date to Mostro Lounge, instead of another boring ol’ tea party? (Cater definitely gets his head offed for that one).

Riddle does take one piece of advice to heart, though. Cater suggests that spending time together and doing new things is the best way to get someone to like you, and Riddle thinks that’s reasonable enough. He’ll try to vary the things he invites you to do with him. One day you’ll be helping him paint the roses in the Rose Maze, and other days he’ll take you on a ride on his horse, Vorpal, around the racing track.

Riddle will slowly lose the awkward formality that he held around you when he realized he liked you as more than a friend. His posture will relax and he’ll begin to talk to you normally again. One thing that won’t change though is the gentlemanly ways he treats you on these ‘trial dates.’ If you’re at dinner he’ll pull out your chair for you and hold the door. When strolling the campus he’ll link his arm in yours. If you’re trying to get a leg up on Vorpal’s back, he’ll hold your hand until you can steady yourself. It’s all very sweet really, and he’ll have a small smile on his face every time he does so.

Ace Trappola

Ace is another case where you’d definitely be friends before he falls for you, but instead of establishing a formal ‘courting period’ like Riddle does, Ace will just… not change. He’s still the same roughish, loveable idiot to you, messing with you at the most inopportune moments and pulling tricks to steal your food. But somehow, he gets a bit softer whenever you’re around. Instead of just calling you a dumbass, he’ll call you my dumbass. That’s just how he shows his affections.

Ace has had a few encounters with romance before, but he’s never once thought so much about how he must have looked to them. With you, he wants to look cool. He wants to be your number one, your first and best choice! If you’re watching him at basketball practice, he’ll throw you a wink whenever he scores a basket.

Deuce is now his rival, end of story. Whether or not Deuce knows it or even likes you in the first place, Ace will always be trying to one-up him in front of you. Deuce got 79 on his last potionology test? Expect Ace to be studying nonstop for the next week, and return to you with a 79.5. 0.5 points more than Deuce! You can tell who the better man is now, right?

He’s not shy about his feelings, but he may not confirm them right away either. He’ll call you cute, mess with you, and playfully push you around a bit, letting you know that he likes you. But truth be told he’s a little afraid of the idea that you might not want to be with a troublemaker like him, so he’ll wait to see how you react to his advances.

If you’re welcoming to them, then expect Ace to step up his game tenfold from then on. He’ll walk you to and from every class of the day, beg you to study with him in his dorm room, even show up at your door in the middle of the night with an armload of your favorite snacks. He’ll grin at you when you open the door, quickly shoving past you and inviting himself in to dump his successful ‘hunt’ on the table. Pick whichever ones you like, he got them all for you!

The best thing about Ace having a crush on you is that no matter what, he will always be your friend, first and foremost. He wants to have fun with you and enjoy life by your side. Laughter is common when you’re around him, and he’ll always be looking for new ways to make you smile.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona is an odd one. Upon first glance it seems like he doesn’t spare you one look. Sure, you might make friendly conversation with him while in passing, but he’s not showering you with attention at every opportunity like some others. It’s only when you notice that he’s a little more courteous around you than he is with others do you understand his true feelings towards you.

Leona’s hints are subtle. Whenever you enter a room his ear will twitch as if he has just heard the most interesting tidbit of conversation. If your name is mentioned he might even raise his head to see what’s going on. He’ll keep an eye on you subtly from afar, especially when walking at night, to keep you safe. And a few choice orders from Ruggie later, and Leona will have your favorite food on the plate in front of him. He wants to know what it tastes like, so he can understand the subtlety of your character a bit better.

This boy feels no need to show off in front of you. He knows he’s strong, you know he’s strong, and so does everyone else. While he wouldn’t mind you seeing him score a goal or two during Spelldrive, he doesn’t feel the need to prove it. If he’s really the game that day though, he’ll look up after scoring, and point directly towards you in the stands. Out of thousands of spectators, he knew exactly where you’ve been the whole time, and though no one else knows who he’s pointing to, he knows you’ll get the message.

Many people are scared of him, sometimes for good reason. No one sets foot on Savanaclaw dorm territory without him knowing, and usually, it’ll end in a beatdown or a forceful eviction from the premises. With you though, you can wander through the entrance without so much as a comment from the students. Some of them are even friendly to you, waving and shouting greetings. It’s Leona’s orders that they treat you well, after all.

The housewarden of Savanaclaw dorm is not ashamed of his feelings for you. Why should he be? Does caring about someone he holds in high esteem bring shame upon him? You’re a perfectly suitable romantic option. He’s not going to make a big show of his affection towards you, but he’s not going to hide it. He just lets it be.

If you notice and take an interest in him too, great. He’ll see you next weekend for a date in the Botanical Gardens.

Floyd Leech

Floyd is eccentric at times and that carries over to his romantic life. He’s got a pretty face and unique look, so he’s used to getting attention from admirers here and there. Every so often, he’ll flirt back if the mood suits him. But most of the time they’re nothing more than passing flings or amusements. Something about you is different, though. Floyd trusts his intuition.

Even if he has a fondness for you, you’re not safe from Floyd’s teasing. No one is, not even Azul or Jade. Floyd finds it’s a surefire way to get your attention- poke at you until you swat him away, then grab your hand in his and squeeze- but gently.

You may not pick up on Floyd’s feelings towards you right away. He’s physically touchy with many people, not just you, and he generally gets a kick out of ‘playing’ with them. When you’re involved though, he’s a bit more amiable. He’ll lay off on the taunts and divert his focus to gifting you unusual compliments. If no one’s ever complimented you on the comparison of your shoes to a deep sea anchor, then Floyd will do it.

Floyd’s mood swings are a point of contingency for most people, and he knows this. For that reason he’s all the more appreciative of the empathy you show him- you try to understand how he’s feeling and why he feels that way. He won’t say it out loud but the gratitude shows- he’ll follow through with an action, even if his initial thought on it is negative. Sometimes, it’ll lead to him actually enjoying the activity you’ve roped him into.

His nicknames for you vary at times, but he’ll always have one favorite one. Sometimes you’re his clamshell, sometimes you’re starfish or pearl. But at the end of the day, you’ll always be his little Shrimpy.

Even though Floyd can be seen as lazy sometimes, he makes a consistent effort when it comes to spending time with you. It’s not uncommon to walk out of class and get swept up in his wake, then suddenly end up at a new restaurant that opened up in the commercial district to do chocolate-tasting with you. How did you even get there? Who knows.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst wonderland #twst #riddle x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts #ace trappola x reader #ace x reader #ace trappola #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland imagines

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palajae · 4 months ago

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episode two. | park jay

PAIRING ▸ host!jay x reader

GENRE ▸ ouran high school host club!au, high school! au, romance, fluff, angst, humor

WC ▸ 4.2k

SUMMARY ▸ host park jay: the cool and calculated type. as the vice president and brain of the en-host club, jay is more than quick and entertaining. you’ll never get bored with all the things he does and says—if you ever get the chance to meet him.

AKA episode two of the kiss, kiss, fall in love! series

AN/NOTES ▸ mentions of food?? toxic family issues (specifically daddy issues), not proofread

sorry for the wait but here is the second part! <3 also i swear i love jay and his father this was just for the plot okay don’t come for me 😭🙏

EPISODE 2. The Job of the Class Top Student!

you get up, making sure to push the chair back with a loud screech so that everyone could hear. you feel the eyes boring holes into your back. if anyone looked closely, they would notice how your eyes flickered across the room. searching—checking.

but no one was, most were still on the first page of the exam and had six more pages to go.

you keep a straight and composed face as you walk up to the teacher’s desk, inaudible whispers and shocked stares going in one ear and out the other.

after all, who finishes the midterm with 50 minutes left?

you don’t falter, you don’t let your mask slip. however that rule is excused when it comes to one person. your eyes fall on his hunched over silhouette, smirking just the slightest as he flips to the last page of the exam.

you and park jay. park jay and you. the class’s designated number one and two ranked students. who was which was yet to be confirmed.

everyone wondered who would end up on top. there must’ve been a rivalry, a game, a secret enemies to lovers?

to you, it was anything but that.

it was an offense—being compared to park jay. sure, he was brilliant. you could at least admit that.

but he was also a member of the en-host club. the vice president, at that.

you shivered in disgust the first time you found out that he co-founded the club along with lee heeseung. you would expect no less of him, but jay, seriously?

what would his father think?

you had no time for trivial stuff like acting as a host and pleasing those who weren’t worthy of your company.

he wasted hours every day, every week, at and for that club.

you didn’t understand.

why was jay pretending to be someone he wasn’t?

every time someone would mention his name, you would snort and turn your head to the side.

“that player? don’t count yourself special or lucky. he just wants attention from anyone he can get it from.”

you vowed to beat him. how could you ever lose to the host, park jay?

“how are you, mr. park?”

you bow gracefully, a practiced smile plastered on your face.

you hated it—how jay was a splitting image of his father. you hated any and every reminder of him.

and just like the two of you, your families were rivals. they had to have been, after all they both competed in the same industries and markets.

it was only natural that jay’s father took a liking to you. the one who was as gifted as his son, if not better.

the one who was diligent, compliant, and charismatic. you were the one raised properly. you didn’t make rash decisions that wasted your time and future.

“good. i heard my son has been troubling you recently. in physics, was it?”

your smile tightens. “of course not, sir. i’m not sure if jay told you, but we recently received a group presentation. he got paired with the kang family’s son.”

when jay got put with the kid who barely paid attention in class, let alone showed up to class, you couldn’t hide your triumphant smile.

he pats you on the back, “of course. you know i just say that as a joke.”

you pretend to laugh it off, bowing again before excusing yourself to the bathroom and taking your leave.

when you reach the mirror, you stare at yourself. you looked aggravated, confused, lost. because you were. all because you knew what mr. park was implying. he thought the same as you—it’s why the two of you grew close.

were you really going to let mr. park’s son overtake you in a class?

while you spent most of your time studying and working, his failure of a son who spent his time messing around had the same grades as you, if not better?

he was challenging you and your future.

you despised park jay.

gasps and whispers of awe fill the room. you stand near the back, face unreadable.

chapter 9 test scores:

park jay - 99

y/l/n y/n - 96

…..

yujin nudges your shoulder with a concerned look. “are you okay? i know you spent four hours cramming for that test…”

you don’t say anything and stalk off.

your room gets the brunt force of your emotions. you rip, crumple up, and trash your notes. your binders and notebooks go flying as you shove and fling them onto the ground with as much strength as you can.

it was a mess. you were a mess.

how did he do better than you? you know for a fact he didn’t study as much as you did. he didn’t waste hours and hours reviewing the material and practicing. how did he do it?

there must be a reason, you resolve. something must be going on in that host club.

you vow to figure the truth about jay.

“what do you think he does there? seduce the girls into giving him answers?”

ningning laughs, “don’t be ridiculous.”

she pauses, “unless…?”

you huff, rolling your eyes. “i need to find out. this isn’t right.”

“you really don’t. you know you’re kinda—what’s the word? obsessed.”

“with jay,” she adds, “do you like him or something?”

you point a finger harshly, accusatorily, at ningning.

“you know how i feel. my mother and father won’t be pleased. let’s not forget about his father.”

she only laughs, reaching out to put down your hand as you groan in frustration.

“you sound like draco malfoy, you’re so funny. but go ahead with your plan, i’m not stopping you.”

you rub your temples in frustration. “am i about to make a mistake? is this a bad idea?”

ningning only shakes her head like a parent chiding their kid, “oh, y/n. you know you don’t ever have bad ideas or make mistakes.”

anyways, she was wrong.

the moment you walked—more like burst—into the en-host club, all eyes were on you.

you were used to it, but not like this. not like everyone was seeing a ghost. your eyes flit around the room, studying the infamous place. the host club was surprisingly spacious and intricate. you supposed it wasn’t that bad of an area.

“y/n,” heeseung is the first to greet you and extend out his hand. you almost glare at it.

“certainly did not expect to see you here. a pleasant surprise nonetheless,” he adds after flinching at your icy gaze. heeseung was the one to turn jay—disillusion him and make your life that much more difficult.

“have the rumors finally piqued your curiosity? who exactly-“

you hold out a hand to cut him off, “save it. i’m only here to speak to jay.”

saying his name out left a bitter aftertaste on your tongue. more whispers break out and you grit your teeth.

heeseung’s eyes widen as jake appears with a grin. great, now you were starting to attract even more attention.

“so you finally succumbed, huh?”

your eyes narrow.

“to what, exactly?”

“you know, for being one of the brightest students in our grade, you can be quite dense sometimes.”

“and for being one of the most popular students in our grade, you can be quite pitiful sometimes, did you know that?”

“y/n.”

you bite back your next words at the appearance of the person of your request. jay sends a look to the other hosts, and they leave you two alone reluctantly.

“what do you want?”

at first, you don’t say anything.

when you don’t respond, his gaze hardens. “did my father send you?”

you ignore him. “i’m here to observe the club. and you.”

you hold eye contact until jay finally breaks it and sighs, “fine. i could care less.”

to your surprise, jay doesn’t say anything else. and in your awkwardness, you realize you have no choice but to follow him around or stand there like a loser. and you were anything but a loser.

you didn’t know how this whole club thing really worked, anyway.

you check the clock. how long would this take? how much time of yours would be wasted?

you can’t believe it. the fact that you wasted two hours or that jay was busily working, you’re not sure. probably both.

all he did was sit down at one of the tables with his laptop. no words were exchanged when you sat stiffly across from him. it’s still a bit uncomfortable, being in this place with no purpose or goal other than to spy on jay (not to forget the girls absolutely shellshocked at your presence in the club.)

he typed quite fast, you note by the sound of the keys clicking harshly. jay looked focused, significantly more than when he took chemistry quizzes.

you attempt to sneakily glance at his screen. eventually, you get a crick in your neck and you sigh.

“what are you doing?”

“running the statistics for the club’s activities this week,” he responds curtly.

after about an hour, you frown. where were all the girls? where was his cheesy flirting and hosting that they all supposedly did?

there’s no way he was actually just that busy working?

you walk off without another word.

“it doesn’t make any sense,” you furiously chew your salad, “i need to go back.”

“really?” ningning replies with an edge in her voice.

you slam your fork down. “i-i mean, he stays there until five! that means he doesn’t arrive home for another thirty minutes and that reduces his study time to around five to six hours, considering dinner and washing up. then i have to take into account the fact that his bedtime must be around twelve since he has nonexistent eye bags—“

ningning stuffs a tomato into your mouth.

“if this isn’t obsessed, i don’t know what is.”

you glare at her as you chew. “is not. being obsessed means you have to have interest in the person or subject.”

ningning mutters something under her breath.

somehow, your eyes fall on jay sitting with his host club friends. his arms are relaxed behind his head, as if he was purposely flaunting off to everyone in the room. you want to slap the tinted glasses he wore, you could barely see his eyes. you never knew what he was thinking.

you curse jay internally.

ningning gets up. “anyways, i’ll see you in calculus later.”

you come to your senses again, nodding at her. “let me know if you need any more help on the problem set.”

she grins, patting your head.

“thanks, good luck getting his attention.”

“whose?” you call out but she’s already gone, leaving you to ponder your own thoughts.

the sound of silverware scraping the plates makes you cringe. besides that, there was complete silence in the dining hall.

you knew what was coming.

“i heard jay scored the highest on the last physics exam.”

you look down. “yes, father.”

you were used to it.

“how long did you prepare for it? i thought i raised you properly,” his cold voice never failed to put a shiver down your spine.

“i’m sorry. i’ll do better next time…” you barely manage to get out.

you pray he’s finished.

“i heard he barely studied. spends all his time at that horrid club, yet he scored better. interesting.”

you wipe your mouth before standing up. “i’m going to finish my homework. i promise i’ll work harder, father.”

you leave the table with clenched fists. every freaking time.

you want to punch the wall, scream and kick. it wasn’t fair. you gave your all to make your parents proud, and it was never enough. when would you be enough for them?

you told yourself every time, that you weren’t affected. it didn’t matter.

yet it still hurt.

you’re on autopilot the entire day at school. you’re in and out, brain fuzzy. indeed, those were the consequences of a sleepless, turning and tossing kind of night.

“-y/n?”

you swear, it was so bad you could literally hear your parent’s disappointed voices in your ear.

“y/n!”

you jolt up in your seat, accidentally knocking a pencil off your desk. your professor eyes you along with the rest of your classmates. along with jay.

it wasn’t like you to zone out.

“i’m sorry,” you stammer. “could you repeat the question?”

“i didn’t ask a question,” they raise an eyebrow, making you look down in embarrassment.

“are you alright? do you need to go to the nurse?”

you decline and apologize hastily, straightening your posture and grabbing your pencil off the floor. your teacher resumes their lecture and you hate how you can still feel jay’s eyes linger on you.

when class is dismissed, you’re packing up your last notes when you feel eyes on you, once again. it was just you two left in the room.

you already know who it is.

“that wasn’t like you.”

“i know. i don’t need your fake concern,” you spit out.

his eyes widen as you stand up and shove past him.

“hey-“

you stop in your tracks, turning around to face jay—the root of all your issues.

“are you happy now? seeing me like this? you embarrassed me, you won. there’s no need to pretend you care when it’s obvious you don’t. can you even?”

he isn’t able to get in a single word in as you stalk out.

by the end of your last class, you hate to admit it, but you’re actually regretting your words. you constantly replay that last moment in class, when you actually saw an ounce of emotion on jay’s otherwise stoic face. when it actually seemed like he got hurt by your words. it couldn’t be, though.

jay didn’t show his emotion. he didn’t care, unlike you. no matter how much his father compared the two of you, jay did what he wanted and he did it well.

while you hated to see that you were the weak—the jealous one.

you didn’t mean to take your anger out on him—you knew jay would never intentionally beat you.

you would. you were the one who needed the validation, and therefore, you had to do your best. you had to be the best in order to beat jay. and yet, you find yourself in another moment of weakness.

standing in front of the music room, you sigh. here you were once again. when you walk in, you head straight for heeseung.

he’s sitting rather comfortably, cozying up to two random students you’ve never seen before.

when you clear your throat, heeseung sits up as his eyes widen at the sight of you. “y/n?”

“i need to speak with jay,” you can’t seem to look him in the eyes.

“again?” he smirks.

you exhale slowly, trying your best to keep your cool. “please. it’s urgent.”

and suddenly, you’re standing in front of him. your hands clasped together, eyes downcast.

at first, no words are exchanged. you know jay—he won’t be the first to say anything. it takes a minute for you to collect your thoughts. to finally let it sink in that you were here, in this situation, in front of him.

“i… i didnt mean what i said.”

“earlier,” you quickly add.

you take a quick glance, only to see the same emotionless expression he always wore.

“alright.”

you swallow. he stands there.

jay proceeds to push his glasses further up his nosebridge , “if that’s all, then, i’m a bit busy.”

“r-right. yeah.”

your eyes follow his back as he begins to walk off.

“wait! wait.”

he slows, but doesn’t turn around.

you scrunch your face up, cringing. “can i-just like, stay? for a moment?”

jay being jay only shrugs.

and for the second time, you find yourself sitting across from jay. again, he’s simply typing away on his computer.

no flirting or messing around with the guests.

your curious eyes wander around the giant room. if you weren’t in the position you were in, born into, maybe you would’ve come here.

your eyes fall back on jay. maybe you would’ve requested him. his looks weren’t that bad, and when he wasn’t talking school-

you clap a hand over your mouth, horrified at the thought. jay looks at you from over his screen, but his fingers never stop moving.

you shake your head, as if to physically remove the thought from your head.

“so… uh, what are you doing?”

“club work. finances, promotion, sponsors. basically everything behind the scenes.”

your eyes squint, “then how are you the vice president?”

he sighs as if he’s used to the question, “beats me.”

“then, you’re not a host? every time i’ve been here, you haven’t done anything host-like.”

“the two times you’ve been here,” he corrects and you roll your eyes.

“it’s because you’re here.”

“what?”

“you scare off my usual clients, so i cannot host,” he states as a matter of factly.

your mouth forms a “o,” but you soon cock your head at him.

“why would i scare off your clients, though?”

his cold eyes glint up at you. “i think that’s a question to ask yourself.”

you stifle a groan.

“either way, i don’t have many requests since i’m usually busy keeping the club alive.”

you knew it wasn’t true. there were plenty of girls who whispered about him in the halls and glared at you. not that they would ever do anything—you knew they were rightfully scared of you.

“you’re saying that you’re not popular then.”

“if that’s what you want to think, then sure.”

“and yet, i’m here.” you cough awkwardly.

“but you are not here for the same reasons,”

jay stops typing abruptly. he looks at you, and you start spluttering at his implication.

“there is no way i would ever waste my time here to-for you-“

“yet you’re still sitting right in front of me,” he smirks, “you said what you had to say earlier, no?”

curse him for being your one weakness. there was no one who could beat you in an argument except park jay. he was so infuriating.

you slam your hands on the table, “yes. thank you so much for the reminder. but don’t you dare think i’ll go easy on you after today.”

you turn your nose up before leaving. you hated how he always got your heart rate up, palms sweaty and knees weak. jay always riled you up, it was just because of how infuriating he was.

that was the only reason, right?

ningning smoothly slides into the seat next to you, “i heard you went back to the host club?”

your eyes widen.

“just admit it, you like jay. you realized all the feelings you felt about him were actually, in fact, for him. no need to be embarrassed, everyone else already knows,” she teases.

you choke but attempt to cover it up with a small ahem, straightening your back.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about. i only went there because of my curiosity. you know the saying: keep your friends close and enemies closer? yeah, i’m just sizing up my opponent.”

she sighs, patting you on the head.

“it’s alright to spend time with jay, you know. you and your families have known each other for a while. plus, you guys are literally the same person—just in different bodies.”

although she didn’t mean it in that way, you begin to realize she’s right.

you and jay are a lot more alike than you realize. same overbearing parents putting immense amounts of pressure on the two of you. if anything, you should have been friends—not enemies.

who were you trying to protect yourself against? jay?

or your families who caused this whole mess in the first place?

you suddenly get out of your chair, leaving ningning to stare at you.

“where are you going? study hall isn’t over for another hour!”

“i…i have to go somewhere.”

“and skip studying? what has possessed you, y/n?” she says incredulously.

as you run off, you silently agree with her.

your feet lead the way, automatically taking you to the place you need to be without even realizing it.

you open the doors rather harshly, stomping over to the familiar table. you already knew he would be here. he always was here if he wasn’t in class.

jay sits there, and to your surprise, he’s strict and gazing out the large tinted glass windows. as you approach him, he pushes the bridge of his glasses up, looking at you with inquisitive eyes.

“how do you do it?”

he blinks at the question.

“pardon?”

“how? how do you not care?” you almost demand him to answer, feeling all the pent up frustrations bubble up to the surface.

“about your family, your duty, about everything!?”

you’re almost panting, glaring at him with glassy eyes. you needed to know.

“it just doesn’t make sense. we’re in the same boat, yet you don’t care and you don’t seem affected. after everything that has happened, how can you feel so normal? how can you pretend like everything’s going to be okay?” your voice cracks.

to your surprise, jay sighs. he quietly gets up and looks up at you. clearly, like it’s the first time you’ve ever looked in his eyes. they draw you in, an endless void of darkness.

you can finally feel the tension in the air. you finally notice that the two of you are alone.

“if anything, i used to care more than you. i was worse off than you. it wasn’t always easy. it still isn’t.”

you cross your arms.

“you’re not lonely? stressed? is that why you decided to join the host club?”

“i just decided to. i decided that i won’t let them dictate all parts my life. i chose to do this along with heeseung. he showed me a different world, a new path to life. not everything has to be for your own future benefit and success.”

you look down. the sight of your own clenched fists surprises you.

you know jay. you’ve known jay, for a long time. you’ve seen how he used to be. what an arrogant and selfish know-it-all he was. then, he changed. he became a host and suddenly, he was having fun with friends and doing everything he could for the club and them.

but, you were in different positions. he fought back against his parents for his life, while you couldn’t even imagine coming close. why did you think you could come to him?

“then… we’re not as similar as i thought we were. nevermind any of it.”

as you turn away, jay speaks up again.

“you think you’re selfish. spoiled and special, perhaps.”

you stop.

“but you give tutoring to those who need it. and it’s not just for your reputation and the hours because you do it outside of school. you’re friends with ningning but she’s the second daughter, set to inherit nothing. you secretly give your packed lunch to the one person in our class who can’t always afford it.”

you quietly gasp.

“i know. because you’re just like me.”

you stand there, silently debating before walking out.

there were too many emotions. how did he know? how long has he known—noticed all those things about you?

worst of all, it feels like you’ve reached a deeper level, a mutual understanding, in your relationship with park jay.

whatever relationship you both even had.

people are more than shocked to see the sight in front of them. this type of news—gossip—would reach the headmaster in a day or two. but those fan girls filled with jealousy would never do anything about it in fear of getting on your or jay’s bad side.

park jay, helping y/n organize notes before class?

y/n y/l/n, showing up to the host club on a weekly basis to sit with jay?

and if your parents had anything to say, you turned the other way and pretended not to have heard.

no one understood, like there was a silent understanding between just the two of you.

jay scoots over, almost as if he was saving you the seat. almost like the seat was yours, it always had belonged to you. your heart warms at the thought.

“our families are having another dinner.”

“i know. probably to discuss our futures, don’t you think?”

you hum, passing him a honey citron drink and he gratefully accepts it without a word. for a minute you both enjoy the drinks in peace.

“maybe. probably. your mother was the one to invite us over, you tell me.”

“i suspect to talk about the latest business affairs. then our grades.”

“oh goodness me,” you sigh and jay can’t help but genuinely smile. you liked the fact that you were one of the only people who could do that.

“at least i’ll have you—or we’ll have each other,” he remarks rather normally, but the fidgeting of his hands with his pen tells you otherwise.

you glance up at him, face warming slightly. he was right, though. it was a hard fact to get adjusted to. you did have someone else now.

of all people, jay. he was the person you least expected, and yet… the only person you knew it could be.

and maybe, you guys could heal together. you scoot your chair a bit closer to his, leaning to look at his screen. he doesn’t seem to mind at all.

you knew you could and would heal together.

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mewhenimanangel · 6 months ago

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cherry, eren jaeger

—synopsis. you and eren reunite after almost two years.

—chapter 10 ౨ৎ

𝜗𝜚 content!: au-college/university, time skip, black reader, au-modern, reuniting, confessions, oral sex, breastplay, piv sex, missionary, filthy smut, long chapter

previous ౨ৎ

nia’s ౨ৎ notes: this chapter is pretty long but i felt it was necessary. i loved this story so much it was so cute and so sweet. thanks for reading! 🫧🎀

today was lana's birthday, her 21st to be exact, and you were driving down to her apartment for her party, you were quick with your movements considering you were running a little bit late and it was an hour and a half drive down.

it had been almost two years since you graduated from high school. since then you committed to your dream college about an hour away from home and you were studying for your dream career.

you had a part time job at a clothing store near by and a paid internship at a marketing brand company, so you were always busy between those obligations and classes. but there was no way you were going to miss your best friend's birthday.

your college experience was enjoyable for the most part - you joined the dance team, and were part of the honors program for the school. you were lucky enough to find a really nice roommate, evanie, who you grew fairly close to the last two years, you guys even agreed to continue being roommates as long as you attended the school.

you met a few friends at uni - brooklyn, who was a total party girl and who always brought the excitement. brooklyn's girlfriend, dana, who was a little more introvert than brooklyn, but was really funny and a talented artist. and you met parker, a charming and caring guy with a lean body, in your statistics class freshman year.

who which you hooked up with a bunch of times, and though he assured you he loved every second of it, he decided to come to terms with the fact that he was gay and you guys decided to stay friends.

thanks to brooklyn, you went out a lot more than you thought you would. clubbing, sleepovers with the group, a road trip to the beach - which you missed an exam for, you went to parties here and there, hooked up here and there.

you hadn't really been in any relationships in college, it was more or less, sex. you had this thing with a guy you'd met at a party. his name was daniel, but insisted everyone called him danny. he was on the basketball team.

your thing with him lasted about two months before he accepted a transfer offer to a better school and decided that whatever you and him were, wasn't enough of anything to hold on to. but there were no hard feelings, you were thinking the same.

after he transferred halfway through this school year, it had you thinking about eren again. who you had a sneaky suspicion would be at this party tonight, though lana swore he wouldn't.

it's been almost a year since the last time you spoke to him. not because of anything bad, you just grew apart.

he went to the university of marley and you both just got so busy that you never really talked much anymore.

over the summer before college, you had hooked up at jean's fourth of july party. no one knew about it.

once the barbecue was over, eren offered to drop you home. though, once he pulled up outside your house, something came over the both of you and you smashed your lips against his.

you were lucky eren's windows were tinted so nobody could see the way you crawled over the console to sit on his lap while his mouth left marks all over your neck. or how you grinded your hips against his growing dick.

his hands tangled in your hair as he laid his car seat back and pulled his pants down.

you shook the memory out of your head as you turned left down an intersection. you called lana to tell her you were on your way as you anxiously checked your back seat to make sure her gifts were in fact there.

you had gotten her a designer bag you knew she always wanted and you got dana to paint a picture of the two of you when you were younger.

you searched for five minutes for a parking spot outside of lana's apartment before you went up the elevator to her floor.

you rest the painting and the gift bag at the side of her door before you knocked, it was a rather big painting and you didn't want her to see it just yet.

lana opened the door with a big smile on her face and arms out ready to give you a hug. "happy birthday oh my god you're becoming a big girl" you joked as you squeezed her tight.

"ugh i'm just so glad you made it" she hugged you tighter. "of course i would make it" you said as you held her arms. you took the chance to look past her for a second, the apartment was filled with people - some you recognized, some you didn't. there was music bumping, and people dancing.

you could see a table by her windows filled with mini sandwiches, snacks, deserts, and pizza. everyone was dressed nice as lana told everyone to.

there were pink streamers and flowers decorating her already decorated apartment. she offered for you to live with her full time and as much as you would've loved to, it was just too far from your school. so during the summers, after going back home to your mom, you would spend weeks at a time at her apartment.

"i got you a present" you smirked as you leaned down to grab the gifts of the floor. "ooou you did?" she smiled.

you showed her the painting and she smiled before thanking you and bringing you to her bedroom.

"i'm definitely hanging this up in my living room once all these people leave" she told you and you giggled.

"oh and i have this" you handed her the gift bag as she opened it to find the purse. "no fucking way! how did you buy this?? don't you have student loans to pay off?" she joked.

"alright not too much cause i could take it back real quick" you laughed "i got it when it was on sale" you told her.

"you know im just playing with you, thank you so much" she hugged you again. "did connie come yet?" you asked her. "no not yet" she smirked "why, worried about eren showing up?"

"no!...no i'm not worried. i'm sure he's moved on too. it's just been a while" you shrugged. "you want me to tell con not to bring eren?" she asked you as she lead you out of the room.

"y/n! oh my god i've missed you so much" sasha threw her arms around you for a hug. "i didn't know you'd be coming" she told you. "hey sash, i've missed you too" you smiled. "you have to try the mini sandwiches" she told you. "oh i will" you giggled before she walked over to the table of food.

you said hi to some more familiar faces, occasionally falling into conversations with them - usual questions about school, work, life, etc. before lana found you again.

the sun was beginning to set and you joined your friends in the living room, dancing and sipping on your drinks.

"i'll be right back okay?" lana told you and you nod your head as you continued dancing with mikasa and sasha.

she opened her front door to see connie and eren standing on the other side. "oh baby i'm so sorry. there was so much traffic" connie immediately threw his arms around her. "happy birthday my love, im so sorry" he kissed her forehead.

"it's okay, you can make it up to me later" she winked before bringing him in for a kiss.

"hey eren" she waved before he brought her in for a side hug. "what's up, happy birthday" she smiled and thanked him.

she closed the door behind them before grabbing connie's hand. "come on baby i wanna show you what y/n got me" she pulled him to her room.

eren perked up at the mention of your name. obviously he knew you would be here but actually being here knowing you were in the same room was a little too real.

"yo man, what took y'all so long" ony dapped him up. "so much traffic" eren hugged him. "it's good to see you bro it's been mad long" ony told him. "yeah man i've been keeping busy"

they talked for a bit before eren’s eyes scanned the room before landing on you. you looked even more beautiful than the last time he saw you, you looked so mature and confident.

your complexion was a little more tan than before, your hair looked as though you’d cut it shorter and it was straightened. you were in a pretty yellow dress and a cute little pair of open toed heels. there was a glass of wine in your hand as you talked to someone he didn’t recognize.

his heart sank when you looked over for a moment and your caught his eyes on you. there it was again, those tantalizing eyes and that charming smile.

the last time eren saw you was in armin’s pool as you all decided to do one last hang out with the group before you would be going your separate ways. after that the most you and him did was text, which fizzled out, his last message with you dating back nine months.

you felt your heart pick up when your eyes landed on eren. his hair was even shorter now, almost back to the way you remembered he wore it in middle school. he looked like he had put on a bit of muscle and grown an inch or two. his outfit looked nice and put together. you indulged in the thought that he got dressed today with you on the brain, the way you did.

you just stood there looking at each other, it became almost rude to the people you were both talking to. you excused yourself from your conversation before making your way over to him.

“hey stranger” he said first, same old grin on his face. ony took this as a sign to step away and let the two of you mingle. “hii, it’s so nice to see you” you reached out to hug him, holding out your drink. his arms wrapped around your waist.

“how’ve you been? you look good” you told him. “thanks,, i can definitely say the same about you” you didn’t miss the way his eyes trailed over you for a second as your lips curled into a smirk.

“so what’s up with you?” you asked him. “just keeping busy you know, school is slamming me. i’ve been working with some brands though”

the two of you talked for longer than you realized, catching each other up on your lives. you poured him a drink before you made your way out onto lana’s fire escape. you talked about your respective college experiences, work, your internship, his projects with brands, anything your minds led to.

talking with him made you realize how much you’ve both grown since the last time you saw each other and just how much you both missed each other.

you took a second to really look at each other as, just for a moment, eren’s eyes dipped down to your lips. a sly grin drew on both your faces as you let out a giggle.

“i have to ask, are you…seeing anyone?” he asked you “no not necessarily” he searched your face for an answer before you laughed. “no, no i’m not” you told him.

he took a step closer to you, standing so close you could feel the fabric of his jeans brush against your knee. you looked up at him, still taller than you even with your heels on, waiting for what he would do next.

“so,, does that mean i can do this?” he brushed your hair out of your face, letting his hand rest on your cheek and leaned in. you grinned as you followed along and held onto his waist, lips meeting for just a moment before connie knocked on the window, making you both jump and step away from each other.

“save that for later, we bout to sing happy birthday come on!” he told you before stepping away.

you looked at each other and laughed before climbing back into the apartment and joining everyone in singing happy birthday.

you and connie were first to give lana hugs and kisses and get your pictures taken before everyone else did the same. the whole time, eren’s eyes were just on you. he missed your smile, and your laugh, and the way you always made other people smile.

once the party was over you, connie, and eren stayed behind to help lana clean up. the four of you talked for a bit, munching on cake and the finger foods you were helping her put away.

“well i think it’s time i head out” you yawned. “okay there’s no way you’re leaving, your campus is like an hour and a half away. plus you’re still tipsy” lana insisted.

“how about you stay in the second bedroom?” she offered. you took a second to look at eren, hiding the small smirk on your face. lana clocked it immediately. “um i can take her” eren spoke up. “hm, very well then.” she nod her head before coming to give you a hug.

“stay safe and make sure he has a condom” she whispered in your ear and you giggled.

eren led the way out of lana’s apartment and down to your car. you let him drive since he had less to drink than you did and he drove to his brother’s apartment where he was staying.

he led you upstairs and opened the door to a spacious apartment with big windows overlooking the city. “jesus what does your brother do” you asked as eren closed the door behind you. “he’s a doctor or something like that. he’s not here though” eren told you as he leaned against the counter and watched you look down at the city.

you turned around to see a mischievous glint in his eyes. he cleared his throat before showing you to the guest room. “um there’s some clothes i had left in there from when i came down here with my mom if you wanna change” he told you.

“aw how is she?” you asked earnestly. “she’s good, she still loves and misses her prized dancer” eren grinned.

ʚɞ

you woke up in the middle of the night looking for water when you saw eren sitting at the kitchen island, doing something on his computer.

he turned your way when he heard the door open. “oh hey, can’t sleep?” he asked you. “nah, just thirsty” “there’s some water in the fridge, i’ll get you some” he got up to take a bottle of water out and handed it to you and you thanked him.

“what are you working on?” you asked him. “something for a class, i was supposed to finish it earlier but i put it off for lana’s party….which I’m glad i did cause i got to see you” he turned to you at the last part.

“i missed you a lot you know” he told you. “i missed you too. it was so nice seeing you again”

he didn’t say anything for a moment and you watched as though the gears in his head were turning.

“y/n….i really want to be with you. i can’t keep ignoring it anymore. i’ve wanted to be with you since we everything senior year. i tried to just push it down and get over you and try on new people but nobody fits, nobody but you. i don’t want this to be like last time, i don’t want this to be the last time i see you for another two years. it’s time for us to grow up and for me to admit that i really fucking want you and i think you want me too…”

you felt like you got the wind knocked out of you with the mini monologue he went on declaring his feelings for you.

“of course i want you too. i want you so bad eren, i don’t think my feelings for you ever really went away. i just, i don’t even know i was just a stupid seventeen year old who didn’t know what to do but i do know now. i want to be with you ren”

a moment went by before eren pulled you in for a hug. “god i’ve been dreaming to hear you say that” he mumbled into your shoulder while your hands played with the back of his hair.

he lift his head off your chest to look up at you and before you could even think, your lips were on his.

the kiss quickly changed from a soft pace to the two of you kissing like your lives depended on it. it was filled with years of tension and need.

eren stood up from the chair, pushing you up against the wall behind you as his hands dipped underneath the shirt you wore and held on to your waist. your mouths continued fighting to taste each other as your arms were wrapped around his neck.

you groaned in his mouth when you felt him grope your boob from under your shirt and his thumb grazed over your nipple. you felt him smirk against your mouth. “still like getting your tits played with?” he teased before moving to leave kisses and marks down your neck.

he reached for the bottom of your shirt and pulled it over your head, throwing it somewhere in the living room. he grabbed your boob and put it in his mouth, letting his tongue swirl over your nipple and sucking on it like a sweet.

a moan fell past your lips as you felt your face getting hot and you tangled your fingers through his hair. he pointed his tongue directly on the sensitive bud, reveling in the sweet noises you were making, like music to his ears.

you could feel your panties moistening by the second as you let your head lay back on the wall. he moved off your tit to show the other one some love, groping at it before putting it in his mouth.

he kissed along your collarbones before meeting your lips again. your hand dipped between your bodies and you teasingly grazed your fingers over the tent in his shorts. “mm what are you doing princess” “haven’t heard that one in a while” you grinned. “i wanna suck your dick” you looked him straight in the eyes.

“i won’t stop you” he smirked. you lowered yourself to your knees, keeping your eyes on his. you reached for the waistband of his shorts and pulled them down, revealing his dick print against his boxers. you pulled those down too.

face to face with his flushed dick, you wrapped your hand around it, slowing pumping to tease him. you licked a kitten lick over his tip, smirking when you heard his sharp inhale.

you pumped his cock between your fist as he let out small moans. most of the guys you’d hooked up with during college were too full of themselves to make any noise during sex. you enjoyed the groans he gave as he carefully held your hair in his hand.

you finally put his dick in your mouth, starting with his tip while you continued jerking him off. you slackened your jaw and manually breathed through your nose as you felt his cock fill your mouth. eren was definitely the biggest you’ve been with.

you combined your vacuuming lips with the licking of your tongue and it sent eren over the edge. one hand held onto the wall in front of him while the other kept a hold on your hair.

“fuck you’re so good at that” he whimpered. you licked along a vein near his tip and you felt his dick jump in your mouth.

“fuck y/n, think i’m gonna cum” he began shifting his hips, pushing himself further in your mouth. you felt his tip touch the back of your throat and you willed yourself not to gag, tears pricking your eyes. “you want my cum in your mouth, princess?” you nod your head.

a few seconds later he came and you swallowed every last drop. somehow, he was still hard and ready to go.

you got off your knees and he hugged your waist before kissing you again. “i’ll make you some tea for your throat” he said before lifting you up and carrying you back to the guest bedroom. he closed the door with his foot before laying you down on the bed.

you propped yourself up on your elbows as he pulled your pants and your panties down in one swift motion before he pulled off his wife beater, throwing all the pieces of clothes somewhere in the room. you think this is the first time you’ve seen each other fully naked.

“you’ve been working out?” you asked, trailing your hands over his soft abs. “yeah but i haven’t been in a while” he crawled on the bed and spread your legs, placing himself between them.

he squeezed your boobs before trailing his hands down to your vagina. you moaned feeling a finger rub over your clit before dipping in your hole.

he smirked before reaching over to the nightstand and pulling out a condom. “no need,,i’m in the pill. i wanna feel you” you told him.

he leaned down to kiss you again. “gonna fuck you so good baby” he whispered in your ear before lining his dick up with your entrance.

he eased himself inside you, hands gripping your hips as his hips snapped against yours in an erotic rhythm.

you felt him fill you up, brain going fuzzy. you reached behind you to grip onto the pillows. “oh my fucking god, ren- feels so good” your words came out airy as every hump inside you made you lose your breath.

your tits bounced and you felt the bed squeak as eren got more rough with his thrusts. “you feel so fucking good princess, like this pretty pussy was made for me” his grip on your hips got tighter.

your pussy engulfed his dick, you could feel his balls slapping against your skin.

the room was filled with the vulgar noise of your skin slapping against his, your pornographic moans, and eren’s grunts. for a second you wondered if the neighbors could hear you.

but you were too busy getting fucked out to care.

eren threw your leg over his shoulder leaning down to deepen himself inside you. “oh my god eren i’m gonna cum” a moan ripped out of you at the new angle.

“go ahead baby, wanna feel you rush on my dick” he kissed your forehead, holding on to the headboard behind you.

it didn’t take long for the knot in your stomach to snap and you were cumming all over eren’s cock. he followed suit soon after too and the two of you sat there for a few seconds trying to catch your breaths.

he pulled you in for a hug and you could feel his heart racing against your chest. you stayed like that for a while, hugging each other while eren’s dick was still buried inside you. “i think i love you y/n, if that’s not insane to say” he said, making you chuckle.

“it’s not. i love you too” you said before he pressed his lips against yours. this one much different than the one before - this one soft and gentle and sweet.

you kissed each other, never wanting to let go now that you’ve made your way back to one another.

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pnutbutter-n-j-elyy · 5 months ago

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Stray Kids OT8 College Dating Scenarios

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Chan: Meeting at a Campus Coffee Shop

Spots you struggling with a heavy load of books and offers to help. (not the muscles in his arms flexing 🙈)

Strikes up a conversation about your classes and interests, making you feel at ease.

Asks if you want to grab a coffee sometime, smiling warmly - (his dimple is looking so pokeable isn't it?)

Always makes time for study dates, where he helps you with difficult subjects. (does than man ever sleep 🤔)

Brings you coffee before early morning classes, knowing you need the extra boost.

Encourages you to join his study group, introducing you to his friends.

Sends you sweet, motivational texts during exam periods.

Invites you to his dorm for a casual movie night, making sure you’re comfortable.

Plays the guitar for you during breaks, sharing his latest compositions. (such a romantic)

Surprises you with your favorite snacks after a tough day. (but your favorite snack is him don't even deny it)

Takes you to campus events, enjoying the time spent together.

Always listens attentively to your problems, offering thoughtful advice.

Encourages you to pursue your passions, supporting your decisions.

Plans spontaneous weekend trips to nearby cities, exploring new places with you.

Holds your hand during long walks around the campus, making you feel secure.

Lee Know: Dance Club Encounter

Notices you dancing during a club event and is impressed by your skills. ("damn bro why they kinda...?")

Compliments your moves with a hint of a smirk, suggesting you join his dance team. (hmm ulterior motives, huh Mr. Lee?🤔)

Playfully teases you during practice but is always supportive and encouraging.

Invites you to late-night rehearsals, where you bond over shared passion for dance.

Takes you out for late-night snacks after practice, enjoying your company.

Shows you new dance routines, excited to teach you the moves. (or spend time with you but he'd never admit that)

Surprises you with small gifts, like your favorite drink, during breaks.

Asks for your opinion on his choreography, valuing your input. ("y/n do I look sexier when I do this...or this?"😏)

Always makes sure you have a partner during team practices.

Suggests fun dance challenges, making practice sessions enjoyable.

Takes you to dance performances, sharing his love for the art.

Sends you dance videos, wanting to inspire and motivate you.

Plans spontaneous dance battles, keeping things exciting.

Is always the first to congratulate you after a successful performance. ("I could never be the boyfriend of a failure...just kidding love you did great.")

Holds your hand when walking back to your dorm, cherishing the quiet moments together.

Changbin: Library Study Buddy

Sees you frequently in the library and eventually sits next to you, starting small talk.

Offers to share notes and study together for upcoming exams.

Invites you to gym sessions, saying it’s a good break from studying. ("we should workout together...seven days week. just for a healthy lifestyle not because I want to be around you or because I find you extremely attractive or anything...")

Brings you healthy snacks during late-night study marathons, showing his caring side. ("eat...you and food equal nom nom")

Encourages you to join his workout routine, always motivating you.

Takes you to his favorite cafe for study breaks. ("they have protein smoothies babe...protein!"🤯)

Suggests listening to music while studying, sharing his playlist with you.

Helps you organize your study schedule, ensuring you stay on track.

Celebrates small achievements, like finishing a tough assignment, with you.

Invites you to group study sessions, making sure you feel included.

Always texts you good luck messages before exams.

Plans fun, active dates like hiking or biking, keeping things interesting. ("ya if you get too tired I'll carry you on my back. ------ Y/N its been four minutes and you're already tired?"😐)

Supports you in your academic endeavors, always cheering you on.

Takes you to campus events and sports games, enjoying the lively atmosphere.

Walks you back to your dorm after late study sessions, ensuring you’re safe.

Hyunjin: Campus Art Project Partner

Paired with you for a project and is immediately intrigued by your creativity. ("pretty...")

Praises your work and asks for your input on his own pieces.

Takes you to art galleries and cafes to find inspiration together.

Sketches you secretly during class, later presenting it as a gift with a shy smile. ("sorry I couldn't capture all your beauty - it was just too impossible... 😉")

Suggests late-night art sessions, where you create and talk for hours.

Brings you small art supplies, like brushes or sketchbooks, as thoughtful gifts.

Takes you to outdoor painting sessions, enjoying the natural scenery.

Always encourages your artistic expression, praising your unique style. ("stunning...just like you")

Plans dates to art fairs and craft markets, discovering new artists together.

Invites you to his dorm to watch art documentaries, discussing them afterward. ("my favorite piece of art in the documentary? Uh...Um...does your face count?" 🤠)

Shares his favorite artists and inspirations with you.

Encourages you to participate in art competitions, always being your biggest supporter.

Takes you on impromptu photo walks, capturing moments together. ("so I can show our future kids how beautiful their mom was when I first met her")

Sends you artistic memes and jokes, brightening your day.

Holds your hand while walking through art exhibits, feeling connected to you.

Han: Music Club Connection

Meets you at a music club meeting and is drawn to your taste in music. ("damn...I'd pay to see their spotify wrapped")

Writes a song inspired by your first conversation, surprising you with a performance.

Always up for spontaneous karaoke sessions and serenades you with your favorite songs. ("am I going to sing Daddy's home to you? Yes yes I am. Why? Because Daddy is home" 😘)

Invites you to his dorm room to listen to new music he's working on, valuing your opinion. ("okay don't laugh...ik this is the fourth song this week...and yes it's about you again")

Takes you to local gigs and concerts, sharing his love for live music.

Sends you playlists of songs that remind him of you. ("han jisung why the hell is this playlist 39 hours?")

Encourages you to join him in writing lyrics, collaborating on music projects. ("so...do you think I'm talented enough to sneak skibidi in a song and make it sound cool?" 😎)

Plans fun music-themed dates, like record shopping or attending music festivals.

Surprises you with mixtapes, filled with songs that have special meanings.

Invites you to late-night jam sessions, creating music together.

Takes you to quiet spots on campus, where you can enjoy acoustic performances. ("beautiful right?")

Always makes sure you have a front-row seat at his performances.

Celebrates your musical achievements, like performing at an open mic night.

Texts you lyrics that make him think of you, sharing his feelings through music. ("han why did you send me the lyrics to a veggie tales song?")

Holds your hand during slow songs at concerts, making the moment unforgettable.

Felix: Culinary Class Crush

Partners with you in a culinary class, instantly charmed by your enthusiasm for cooking. ("so cute and messy" 🥹)

Suggests cooking together outside of class, leading to fun and messy kitchen dates.

Bakes you sweet treats with adorable messages, brightening your day. (brownies obvs)

Takes you on picnics with homemade food, enjoying both the meal and your company.

Invites you to food festivals and markets, exploring new flavors together. ("wow thats spoicyyy" 🥵)

Shares his favorite recipes, teaching you how to make them.

Surprises you with breakfast at your dorm, showing his caring side.

Plans themed cooking nights, like Italian or Mexican cuisine. ("is it appropriate to cook to Despacito?")

Always makes sure you’re well-fed during stressful times, bringing you comfort food.

Suggests baking competitions, keeping things fun and playful.

Invites you to his dorm for cozy movie nights with homemade snacks.

Takes you to his favorite restaurants, enjoying the culinary experience together.

Always remembers your favorite dishes and surprises you with them.

Encourages you to try new recipes, always being supportive. ("it looks gross but its tasty I promise")

Holds your hand while walking through food markets, feeling connected to you.

Seungmin: Debate Club Rival

Engages in friendly debates with you during club meetings, impressed by your wit. ("dang...they kinda ate me up with that one I can't even lie..." 😳)

Suggests studying together to prepare for upcoming competitions.

Always respectful of your opinions, even when you disagree. ("it's a stupid opinion but I guess my type is people with stupid opinions"💀 )

Invites you to quiet places on campus for deep, meaningful conversations.

Shares books and articles that he thinks you’d enjoy or find interesting.

Encourages you to join him in public speaking events, boosting your confidence. ("you got this babe...")

Takes you to lectures and academic talks, discussing them afterward.

Always challenges you intellectually, keeping things stimulating.

Plans study dates in the library, ensuring you both stay focused. ("y/n look at me...not at the shirtless hooligan running around the quad...")

Sends you thought-provoking quotes and questions, sparking interesting discussions.

Invites you to his dorm for quiet reading sessions, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere.

Supports you in your academic pursuits, always being your biggest cheerleader.

Takes you to museums and historical sites, sharing his love for learning.

Celebrates your debate victories with thoughtful gifts and gestures. ("I got you this charm bracelet...how bout I'll give you a charm for each debate you win?")

Holds your hand during walks around campus, appreciating the quiet moments together.

Jeongin: Freshman Orientation Friend

Sees you doing something stupid and joins in, immediately drawn to your playfulness and kind heart. ("okay i got twelve cans of spray paint, 42 goldfish and one hour- you in?" - "is that even a question?" 😈)

Makes an effort to include you in his friend group, ensuring you never feel alone.

Often texts you funny memes and videos, making you laugh. ("look what I caught the professor doing")

Takes you on mini-adventures around campus, discovering hidden gems together.

Invites you to join his study group, helping you adapt to college life.

Shares his notes and study guides, always being supportive. ("Innie... you're an adult why are there so many doodles of- you know what never mind..."😐 )

Takes you to campus events and activities, making sure you’re having fun.

Always checks in on you, making sure you’re doing okay.

Plans spontaneous coffee dates, enjoying your company.

Invites you to his dorm for movie nights with his friends, creating a welcoming atmosphere.

Encourages you to join clubs and organizations, helping you find your place. ("I say we join the anti-cyberbullying club." - "babe you told a nine year old to jump off of a cliff on roblox last night...")

Surprises you with small, thoughtful gifts, showing his appreciation.

Takes you on weekend trips to nearby attractions, creating lasting memories.

Supports you during tough times, always being a shoulder to lean on. ("I know I may act unserious sometimes...but you know my love for you is real right?")

Holds your hand during campus tours, making you feel safe and connected.

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha @iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati

@seungmincenteric @panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee @shuporanporang

@amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin @whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona

@shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael @skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings

@skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld @kkkeopi

@neverendingstay @moony-9

#skz imagines #skz reactions #skz stay #stray kids #skz x reader #stray kids reactions

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riaki · 1 year ago

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thrifted romance | megumi fushiguro x reader

synopsis: you’ve never really spoken with megumi before, so when your friends leave the two of you behind on a snowy night, you take the opportunity to get to know him.

wc: 6.2k... SO SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY cw: swearing, college au, noncurse au, i don’t thjnk there’s anything else ??

this got way longer than i intended it to be and i rushed to grind it out so it may not be coherent.. if so i apologize :’3 and this one’s late but i hope the content makes up for it ! enjoy meemow barely proofread!

it's a late winter evening when you meet up with megumi and your friends on the side of the street— cozied up in puffy layers and a long blazer stained with coffee splashes and a few hot chocolate smudges here and there.

fall had melted away with the slow gradient of leaves from the trees, sinking into fluffy piles on the sidewalk that soon became coated and replaced with light snowfall; the first of many problematic inches. midterms were just around the corner, and with it meant late hours spent pulling all-nighters that left you exhausted, eyes dark around the edges with a lack of sleep; breaths of minty hot chocolate and coffee from the amalgamation you'd concocted to at least pretend to get into the holiday spirit.

(a fruitless effort, though— if not for your failure that warned you to stay out of mixology, but the way your roommate's cat had knocked over your mug and ruined the flashcards you'd been wrestling with and looked completely smug with itself.)

really, though, there was absolutely nothing jolly about school, or exams. so when your favorite inefficient, sidetracking study buddy had offered to spend the weekend out, who were you to say no? nobara had offered to go find a club, but it was far too cold out to frolic around in skimpy clothing and your expensive winter coats were much too valuable to risk being stolen in the haze of drunken students and sweaty bodies. so, you'd decided to go shopping, because what else is there to do with her? besides the usual karaoke session with the upperclassmen she seems to like so much, of course.

turns out, it'd had been a group endeavor. or, more accurately— a group of four, unlike the duo you had previously thought you'd be going out in. yuji and megumi were there too— friends from separate majors; you'd heard that yuji was involved in the uprising surge of software engineers and computer science majors clambering for a shot in the world of big AI tech companies, even though he supposedly was about as computer-smart as your teetering old grandma ripe with age, permanently stuck in her rocking chair crocheting the days away.

megumi, on the other hand, was a mystery. you'd shared a few classes together; his chipped dark nails that shone the same blue as his esoteric eyes beneath the warmth of the glowing sun, and his inky black hair that spilled over the collars of his simple gray sweatshirts like effortlessly graceful calligraphy on paper had captured your attention as smooth and seamless as the daylight turned to darkness, days cut short by the onslaught of cold. even so, you'd never brought yourself to interact much— he seemed like he'd prefer to keep to himself, if the way he'd disdainfully scoot away from anyone who tried to approach him and turn up the volume of his headphones indicated anything. you had laughed to your friend and called it introversion to its finest, only to promptly shut up when his unmoving gaze landed on you, leaving you feeling like a clown on the stage, rimmed by rich dark red curtains and a wooden floorboard as the beaming spotlight shines upon you imaginary button nose, hot and glaring under his gaze.

even though you'd approved of his music taste once you snagged a few notes by the ear, you'd really thought his taste in fashion was too bland to be the type of person to shop with nobara— her meticulous style and image were much brighter and more flamboyant than megumi's jaded attempts at a splash of color through the occasional blue argyle or layered turtleneck. still, those were better than yuji's paltry attempts at fashion; at least the myriads of color on nobara's figure were coordinated. the pink-haired boy with funny scars on his face would probably have been better off learning graphic design or art, with the disasters of clashing colors on his person.

and he'd gotten the opportunity to demonstrate his questionable tastes on the chilly evening, when black ice had begun to form on the roads and the soft light of boutiques with slow jazz flowing from the speakers filled your frost-bitten red ears as you walked up to the shade of a nearby lamppost. once you'd all met up, nobara had hooked an arm around your elbow and dragged you off, leaving the boys to follow along like it was walking dogs.

honestly, you wouldn't be surprised if you were— at least, with yuji. he carried nobara's bags like she was the next princess in line, without complaint and with the little fearful quivers that dogs get in their legs whenever their owners scold them for barking or misbehaving, much like how nobara would yell at yuji if he dropped a single cream linen sweater or ruffled pink cami.

megumi, on the other hand, was far too lethargic and quiet to be considered any kind of canine. although the weaved bracelet on his left wrist with a cute little puppy charm you caught sight of when he'd rolled his sleeve up implied otherwise. the only reason he'd even had to do that was to rub the sickeningly sweet orange blossom hand sanitizer nobara had spritzed on each of your palms after you took turns petting a stray cat, one that seemed to take a great liking to you and megumi in particular.

the night seemed to drag on forever; pale yellow lights and holiday decorations blurred into swathes and bubbles of color in your vision as the hours passed and the caffeine from the cute little coffeeshop you'd stopped at earlier began to wear off.

but there had just been something magical about that evening; spending time with friends (albeit, more like acquaintances) had granted you a much-needed break from cramming your mind with an overflow of information that was sure to spill out the moment you answered the last exam question. so, when it was almost midnight and it was time to retire to your bed, you'd insisted on staying out for just a little longer while nobara and the rest returned to their dorms to catch some sleep. yuji had complained something about his legs cramping, but you were feeling giddy, and the stars were twinkling just as bright as the light in nobara's eyes were when you told her you had to soak in the fresh air for as long as you could before being locked in to study again as she laughed and headed home with her pink dog-boy escort in tow.

megumi had mumbled something about staying with you since it was late and he wanted to make sure you were safe. you didn't think too much about it, because if you did, you were sure you'd end up with a faced even more flushed than it was frostbitten from the cold.

so, here you were, strolling down the quieter side of town, a brooding boy with inky dark hair and hands pale with blue veins shoved into the pockets of his jacket trailing behind you. he had one airpod tucked into his pierced ear; you assumed he hadn't brought his headphones because yuji would be there to prattle and babble. even so, you were content not to say anything, so there was plenty of opportunity for him to wear both. but he wasn't. you decided not to linger on it.

you'd just finished writing a silly little note out of the crisp snow gathered on the windshield of some stranger's car; the flakes were cold and biting on your skin, leaving it feeling numb with little droplets of icy water when you pulled away to admire your handiwork.

"actually, maybe i shouldn't be doing that." you decided after a moment, mumbling under your breath. it was just a little message with a whiskered smiley face, but the headlights on the car and the bumper seemed to form a frown at you when you stepped back, shaking its motorized head at your vandalism.

"you think?"

megumi's voice sounded from behind you, a little weighed down by the cold with a wisp of warmth leaving his lips like a powdery exhale, curling into the prickly night air. he was standing on the sidewalk, observing you all prickly-like as if you were some flagrant toddler he was babysitting. you still had to get used to the way his voice sounded after rarely hearing it; the few crumbs you got when your professors forced obligatory presentations onto struggling students had sent this warm, fuzzy feeling collecting in your stomach at the rich tone of velvet it held. not rough or overly deep, but smooth and reassuring. the kind you could fall asleep to; like there was a lullaby just waiting to be poured from his tongue with little scratches in the indent of his tone.

of course, you hadn't heard enough of it to make such an assumption, so when you heard the little quip framed with irritation at the edges, it wasn't all sugary sweetness like you imagined.

"yeah, well, sorry i like to live a little," you huffed, rubbing your hands together in an attempt to resuscitate some warmth back into them with a small little sigh.

"you call that living?" he scoffs a little, cocking an eyebrow at the vandalized toyota behind you. now, it just looked a little sad; imaginary eyebrows over the red lights droopy in disappointment. you followed his gaze, before looking back at him and making a sour face as you stepped onto the sidewalk.

"maybe we just have different tastes, y'know? doesn't mean we don't have to get along like this," you mumbled, shaking your hands out a little to get the remaining snow droplets off before stuffing them back in your blazer pockets. "just like itadori and nobara. one has terrible taste in fashion and the other doesn't, but they both like their bright colors." you feel satisfied with yourself for that one, but clearly, megumi doesn't feel the same. but the corner of his pink lips seem to quirk up just a tiny bit, and you feel pride blooming in your chest.

there's just something about the way it looks— an almost implausible smile coaxed onto his lips by something particularly amusing, reaching his dull blue eyes in a way that made their usual tedious apathy morph into something like fondness, or appreciation. adding a shine to his navy irises the lamp light overhead could only hope to mimic. then again, you didn't let your mind linger on it for too long like usual— so instead you chalked it up to the one other thing that had caught your eye besides the sharpness of his jaw and the handsome slimness of his face: his jacket.

you take back what you said about his style and its blandness before— it would be unfair to what he was wearing right now. just a simple black turtleneck (one that you were sure he'd worn to the early morning wednesday lecture you had a few days ago, when the sun was still bright enough to catch on the condensation of the cup of lemonade your white-haired, oddly sweet-toothed professor had), and black jeans, but the vintage racing windbreaker hanging from his shoulders brought it together in a way that was unfairly seamless; all dark blues and stripes of checker; a neutral grayblue that reminded you of the sky on rainy afternoons, trudging about the shopping districts in tokyo. there were a few brand patches here and there, some red bubble lettering of names you didn't recognize in patches of color that brought out the shade of his eyes. maybe the labels of those energy drink brands you often caught him running on when the shadows beneath his long dark lashes seemed heavier than usual.

all that to say he looked good. like, seriously good. you didn't know how you hadn't noticed all night— but now that you had, it was hard to keep your eyes from his slim and tall silhouette (not that he minded). the jacket really complimented it.

"that's a neat jacket. where'd you get it?" you asked after a moment of chilling silence; he'd probably noticed you looking, and you prayed he didn't think you were checking him out. although, if that meant getting your hands on one of those windbreakers, you wouldn't really mind. he glanced up at you, tearing his attention from the sad snowy toyota camry that seemed worn past its years at the newfound attention on megumi's racing jacket. he blinked a little, and you didn't miss the little flake of frost on his eyelash; probably caught from brushing past a windowsill earlier. by now, most shops were closed; even so, the street still felt warm and safe. well, maybe it was to be credited to a person rather than the concrete— but like you had been all night, you ignored it.

"oh, this?" as if he was wearing more than one jacket (it was cute), "i thrifted it." and for some reason, you didn't expect to be surprised, but you were. him? thrifting? the few western-fashion tailored thrift stores you'd been to with nobara had been lacking— not like you'd been able to stay in them long; the artificial ginger had this... beef with reused clothes. she liked her clothes clean and fresh from the press, even if you reminded her they could just be fresh from someone else's press. megumi must be familiar with the antiquated racks of varied worn graphic tees and frayed pants if he could fish something that classy from a thrift store.

then again, it's not like you had any experience to go off of at all.

"really? y'know, i've always wanted to go thrifting," you sighed, stretching your arms out, watching the fabric of your blazer wrinkle and curve to follow the movement of your muscles. a light dusting of snow coated the surface, like powdered sugar on tiramisu. that makes the coffee stains fitting. "but i feel like i'm bad at it." you said, stepping over a crack in the sidewalk, the rubber bottom of your sneakers brushing against a little clump of pine green weeds.

"bad at it?" megumi echoes, following you with a faint ruffle of smooth fabric, like the sound of a zipper sliding down. before, the world had been a cool shade of gray, like smoke rising from a cigarette or the blurry blue of the sky from the window of a speeding bullet train. but now, you let yourself soak in the sound of his voice, like grinded coffee beans and a smooth, soothing honey medicine for your throat on a sick day when you get to cozy up in your bunk bed and watch the clouds drift by.

it's nice.

"yeah. like, i wouldn't know where to go, or what to find, or what to look for..." you trailed off, rubbing your cold fingers together again as your breaths leave in little exhales of coagulating mist in the cold night air. now that it was late, it the temperature would only continue to drop.

you walked in silence for a little longer, listening to the scuffles of shoes against concrete, glassy with ice that had begun to creep up on the roads like a steady stream of seafoam from the tides.

"why don't we go thrifting now, then?" he asks out of the snowy blue.

you paused, and you almost smacked straight into a pole. "now?" you spluttered, turning around to face him. the look on his face was unreadable; a mix between exasperation, amusement, an attempt at stoicism, and something like affection in the corner of his lips as they curved upward. it was like a CPR compression; the smile that sent fuzzy electricity through your veins and reinvigorated your heart.

"yes, now." he said it like you were stupid, which you might just be, the way you stared dumbly at his face. "the place i got this jacket from is just over there," he said, jutting a ring-adorned thumb behind him. you had to lean up and peek around his shoulder to see it; you wouldn't've noticed if he didn't point it out. it was tucked between two buildings, a stairway downward into the store. the only thing indicating its status as a retail and thrifting store was the broken neon sign and painted red arrow that gestured towards the staircase.

"looks really shady. and it's late." you grumbled after you got over yourself, and he shot you an irritated look. that was all he really seemed to be doing tonight; that downward knit of his dark eyebrows and the slight pout weighing his lips down. not very suave, you think.

he swallows hard, and you aimlessly watch the bob of his adam's apple. "well?" he prompts, a hard edge to his voice despite the situation. you stand there for a little while, marinating in the growing cold until you cant feel the tips of your fingers.

"fine."

one accidental slip on the crosswalk and a few minutes later, you're stepping down the last wooden stair of the thrift store and into the building's basement; it's much bigger than you would've thought, with an expanse of layered clothing racks that obscure your vision, the corners of the walls clogged with cobwebs and years of dust build up. there's a faint lingering scent of cigarette smoke and cologne; something vanilla that you've caught clinging to megumi's wrists and neck on the rare occasion you brush past him. faint jazz spills from the speakers, something in a swing rhythm with the signature lilt of saxophone that makes you think you should be out enjoying a romantic fancy dinner instead of being cooped up between old wrinkly moth-bitten clothes. but you're here with megumi, so you convince yourself you don't mind either way.

"you sure this is the right place?" you asked, trying (and failing) to keep the obvious distain from your voice as you kick a folded 'floor-is-wet' sign from your path and step into the store. you can't even see the cash register from where you're standing.

"yes, i'm sure. can you stop complaining?" you can practically hear the eyeroll in his voice, and you're sure you could see it too if you just turned around. "trust me. it's not all shit." his voice softens, and you freeze up a little as he brushes past you; the corridors and margins are tight, so he has to turn sideways to fit. even so, a tag on your coat manages to snag on his jacket, and you hasten to unhook it before he can notice. he almost disappears into the racks, and you have to follow him, pushing your way through thick coats and worn graphic tees that have cracked logos and balls of lints clinging to them.

you're no thrifting expert, but you're pretty sure the store's supposed to be in better condition than this.

"hey." megumi's voice soon snaps you back into reality, and you look up from the mustard yellow top you were eyeing warily to meet his sedate gaze. "the good stuff's in the back. c'mon." he doesn't give you much room to argue even though it sounds like you're here to do drugs rather than find clothing, and before you can react he's reached forward to grab your wrist and tug you along. a yelp of protest almost spills from your lips, but you bite your tongue and let him drag you along, trying to extinguish the hue of cherry you know is making a home on the tips of your ears.

you brush past patchwork coats and a few leather belts that've tangled with the lace from the silk shirts next to them, but nothing really catches your eye, until you realize that he's let go of you only because of the lack of warmth around your skin and you focus yourself on the current again. you glance up at him, but he already has his back turned to you, sifting through a rack of black shirts that all look the exact same. maybe you have an untrained eye, though.

still, you can't help it when your gaze lingers over the back of his neck; one strand of dark hair has caught itself beneath the collar of his turtleneck, and it irks you. and you decide to do something about it because you'll know it'll bother you if you don't.

time seems to move in a liquid slow; things are blurring and there's no mothballs or ugly recycled coats to get in your way as you reach over and swipe your hand across his neck, hooking a finger beneath the strand and pulling it out of his collar. it takes you a moment to realize what you just did, and when you do, it's like there's a permanent mark seared into your index finger just from the touch of his skin against your own. you think he might have whiplash because he turns his head around so fast to catch your gaze before you can slink away, eyes wide and eyebrows knit, and you notice his bottom lip is snagged between his teeth.

he raises an eyebrow, but before he can utter a shaming word that'll only make you feel more embarrassed you shake your head vigorously, apologetically.

"sorry— it was bothering me. i hope you don't mind." you managed to say, the words spilling out in a rush before you turned away and slipped past him, disappearing into an aisle of dresses. you can feel his gaze burning cold holes into your back as you distract yourself.

you don't let yourself linger on what you just did— you seem to be doing a lot of that, lately, especially with him as you go through a few batches of clothing. by now, it's far past midnight, and you're feeling much more sluggish than you'd like to admit. you haven't seen megumi in a good twenty minutes save for the few times you picked up a few shirts and a cute diner jacket you thought would look good on him. he just thanked you bluntly, taking the bundle of clothing from your arms before walking away to the fitting rooms. you wished he'd stay to let you see the jacket.

you'd tried on a few things, discarding your blazer in favor of a cute knitted cardigan you grabbed, but nothing seemed to stick the way you'd like them to. it would be a great help if you had nobara to assist, but you were sure she was snoring away at home right now, and at the thought of your warm, inviting bed, your knees wobbled a little and you balanced yourself on the wall.

"hey— oh, you alright?" it's an unfamiliar voice; you lift your head up, looking for the source. it's a young boy— he looks to be about your age, maybe a little younger. there's a blue lanyard around his neck, and he's got a spattering of freckles on his hands, which are curled around the collar of a white linen shirt. he must be the one who's tending to the store.

"yeah, i'm okay. sorry," you said hastily, pushing away and rubbing the back of your neck. how embarrassing— he didn't seem to mind, though. he just smiled, big and bright and toothy. cute. reminded you of how toddlers would grin up at parents with those huge red lollipops in hand.

"no worries. i just thought i'd let you know that we're closing soon, since it's almost 2am." he said, shifting his weight on his sneakers. you nodded, about to give a hum of confirmation before another voice cuts through the slow jazz filling the stifling air above, all familiar in its smoothness.

before you could respond, though— "[name]?" megumi's voice rang out in the quaint little store, calling for you, and so you give the employee an apologetic nod before you turn and start toward the noise. you pass a mirror with a coat draped over the top, peeking your head around a tall rack of long skirts to catch sight of the raven head, in all of his glory. you notice that he's taken off his windbreaker.

"what’s up? we have to go soon," you reminded him, yawning a little and rubbing your eyes as you straightened up and stepped over to his side. there was another mirror in front of him, you noticed, with fading stickers pale in the dim yellow light stuck to the wooden rim. even so, with the smudges and the bare sheen of the silver, he looked good. that black turtleneck really suits him.

"i know. i just wanted to ask for your opinion." he said, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. you tilted your head curiously, and he held up a deep mauve sweatshirt, with some varsity logo branded on the fabric. it had a nice touch to it; a warm color that reminded you of red wine and slow evenings. you were sure it had been one of the pieces you'd picked out for him, but you were too sleepy to recall. "you should try it on. i think it'd look good," you said, gesturing toward the mirror.

you think you must've said something wrong, because he looks at you for a moment too long before he seems to catch himself staring and he nods, a choked little sound leaving his throat which he hides by ducking his head down and covering his face with his long bangs. you think you're hallucinating the pink on his cheeks.

after a moment, he glances at you. "hold this," he shoves his jacket towards you, and you have no choice but to take it. doesn't seem like he's used to taking no for an answer, but you're certainly not the one complaining when he tugs the sweater over his head, ruffling his soft black hair as he steps a little closer to you, observing himself in the mirror while straightening out the folds and fixing his turtleneck. you were right— it does look good on him. almost unfairly so— you don't know how he manages to rock granny clothes so well, like he was born a retirement home's runway model.

unlike him, you're not a reticent shut in— and although you'd like to say you have no problem telling him how good he looks, it's still a little difficult when the words feel like they're lodged in your throat in order to prevent you from making a fool of yourself again. but you ignore it and push on.

"you look great. i think it really suits you," you breathed, shaking your head as your hands tighten around his jacket in your arms. he blinks, adjusting the collar before glancing down at you. you take a moment to really appreciate the sight— him, bathed in the soft yellow glow of the chipped lights overhead. despite the dilapidated store and the antiquated, worn clothing surrounding him, he still manages to look like some ethereal angel boy you'd stumble upon in a bookstore on a dreary winter's afternoon and never be able to get out of your mind again.

ink black eyelashes flutter when he blinks, framing his eyes like the bangs falling over his face when he turns around again to observe himself in the mirror once more before he takes the sweatshirt off. it catches on his turtleneck, which rides up when he slips the mauve sweater over his head, tussling his hair and exposing the dip of his pale hips, all muscle and flesh and bone, and you pray he chalks up the red on your face to the cold. the end of his belt dangles from the buckle as you hand his jacket back to him, fingers almost brushing— just barely out of reach.

a meager conversation flows between the two of you; you follow him through the endless maze of used clothing until you somehow stumble upon the cash register and he buys his sweater; the only thing he manages to buy after all this time spent milling about in a dusty, dinky little retail store. the boy from earlier helps check him out, and the icy glare he receives from megumi when he glances at you seems to fly straight past your head as you pick at your cuticles. the tips of your fingers are still red from messing with the frosty snow earlier. you wonder when the car owner will find your message.

it's almost freezing when you get out of the dusty shop, emerging from the smoke-stained alleyway stairs and into the cold night air. your breaths almost seem to form a precipitate, and the thought reminds you of the chemistry conversions waiting for you on your desk beneath the lamp, and you cringe internally. staying out for a few hours longer seems way better than succumbing to the never ending stream of worksheets and documents calling your name. you wonder if your charismatic professor will let you get away with a few assignments if you call in sick. are papercuts excuse enough?

the click of a lock behind you signifies the store's closing— the employee left through a back exit, it seems. and you realize too late that you left your blazer in the dressing room when you turn around and a sigh falls from your lips. megumi, paper bag in hand, glances over at you.

"you okay?"

you almost forgot he was there, in his brooding vintage racing jacket glory. you shake your head, before sighing forlornly again. he notices this, making a little face; his lips press together and his pretty eyes narrow. he thinks you sigh far too much. you'd look prettier if you smiled some more. he likes it when you do.

"i left my blazer in there, but he just closed it and it's so fucking cold out," you whined, bringing your hands to your face and rubbing your eyes tiredly. you're cold and your fingers are going numb again, and there's light snowfall. so much for not losing your coat at a club. you can't tell which one's worse. "sorry to complain so much, but do you mind if we—"

you're promptly cut off; the words on your tongue left unsaid, burning with the taste of bitter black coffee. your gaze trails from megumi's hand, the clink of his silver ring against the zipper rail of his jacket as his fingers curl around the fabric, up his arm to the sleeves of his dark turtleneck, rounding the curve of his shoulders and up his neck to his face. he's not looking at you.

the words that leave his wet lips are so small and hurried that you think you're hallucinating them; when you inevitably looked back at this moment later, you'd realize that he was being shy. he mumbles something under his sweet breath, and you ask him to speak up.

"i said, you can use mine." he repeats, louder than necessary as he finally brings himself to look down at you from under his lashes, biting the inside of his cheek. his voice is a little strained, and a soft breeze carrying the smell of cinnamon and fresh ice rustles his hair. you blinked, feeling like a deer caught in headlights over a layer of thin ice, ready to shatter at a moment's notice.

"oh— okay. um, do you have anywhere else you need to go..?" you said tentatively, reaching forward to take his jacket again. it was exactly like how you'd done back in the thrift store, but the vague sense of deja vu you get is accompanied by an endless fluttering of warmth in your stomach that melts away the winters and tiring exams, and the night seems to become a soft warm orange, as if someone's drained the cool hues from the landscape.

megumi just shook his head, reaching into his bag and taking out the sweater he'd bought earlier. he slips it on again, adjusting it over his shoulders and refusing to meet your eyes as he crumples the paper bag in his hands. you notice they're slightly trembling as he does it, fingers digging into the material with much more force than is really needed. his hair follows each movement of his head; the strain of the muscles in his neck when he swallows again and gestures for you to follow him back down the empty street, past cars coated in melting snow and jaunty yellow lights twinkling over the awnings of closed store windows, shut down for the night. the sweater suits him really well, you think; not too loose, but tight enough in the right places to send your heart racing a mile a minute.

you pull his jacket over your arms, tucking your sleeves in and zipping it up. it's big on you— that's no surprise, and you can almost taste the vanilla on your tongue, his cologne lingering on every fold of the insulated fabric. it's warm, and it feels like being enveloped in a tight hug. in megumi's head, he hopes— prays its him you think of if you ever feel that way again.

you walk in a stiff silence; both of you want to say something, but you're dancing around it, letting your words linger unsaid until the other breaks the ice first. it's only ever cracked once you reach the dorms, where you part ways. there's light snowfall, and a thin layer of white has coated his hair when you turn to face him. you reach forward, learning onto the tips of your toes to brush off the ice. his hair feels unimaginably soft beneath your fingers, slightly damp from the snow. but he's the furthest from cold when you pull away; his face is burning up.

by now, you can't bring yourself to mind.

"thank you," you said softly, sighing contentedly. you move to take his jacket off your shoulders and return it, but he stops you, holding a hand up. the expression on his face is unreadable, but his lips are pursed together in a way that makes you think he's pouting.

"don't worry—" a pause. " you can, uh. keep it. i know you wanted one. just... give it back when you want, yeah?" he says, curt. almost prude, if it weren't for the way he was avoiding your gaze out of embarrassment. it was like trying to play the world's most difficult game of whack-a'mole, attempting to catch his eyes and see the iceberg that's melted into pools of warm glittering affection in his blue irises. at the thought, you wonder if he likes arcades, and you make a mental note to suggest an activity to nobara the next time she has the urge for an escapade.

you don't bother asking him whether he's sure, because you don't want him to take his words back. so you linger there in a moment of silence, letting it hang over your heads like a warm throw blanket, cozied in front of a fireplace with a mug of hot chocolate in your hands. maybe a coffee mix like you'd attempted before.

angel boy clears his throat first to speak, all honey that links the syllables together like christmas ribbon; rich like orange flavored dark chocolate. "i'll see you later, then." it's short and sweet, but your heart is already flying so high on euphoria you can barely bring yourself to care, or suppress the giddy grin that's spreading across your lips.

yeah, you're tired. yeah, you're still a little cold and you think you need to thaw at your desk for a week until exams, but at least you've got his jacket to accompany you when your study buddy passes out first and you're alone on all nighters. frankly, you can't bring yourself to care— your head is spinning with the events of the chilly night, from crude messages in the snow to thrift store mothballs and lanyards, to one checkered racing jacket. but you don’t think it’s so bad when it threatens to stick to your memory, like chewed up gum under your professor’s desk. whether it’s from the students or the professor, that’s a mystery you’ll never solve.

"yeah. see you around, fushiguro." you can’t say the same about the mystery that megumi is, though. in fact, you think you’re already one step closer when you turn around and part ways, catching sight of him in the reflection of a frosted window. he’s slipping both of his airpods back into his ears, crimson at the tips.

the sound of your shoes against the rug stairway fills your ears as you clamber back up to your dorm, eyelids heavy with drowsiness and face flushed a pleasant warmth. even when you finally get to bed, you can't stop your eyes from drifting over to the bundle of lapis blue fabric sitting on your desk, and your mind from the soft spoken boy with eyes like the night sky and inky hair like calligraphy.

you decide you don't think his style is too bad, after all. and when you tell him that the next morning when he's still sleepy and his lashes fall slow when he blinks the weariness from his eyes, you get to enjoy the steady flush that stains his cheeks and prompts a hoarse cough from his throat when he ducks his head away and grumbles something under his breath, probably about being offended you even thought he was boring in the first place.

and if you ever ask, the only reason he lent you his windbreaker that night was to replace the scent of mothballs and dust with your sweet-smelling perfume.

so, as it turns out, you're able to get your hands on one of those pretty vintage racing jackets— except, it wasn't a new one; it was his. nobara hasn't stopped pestering you with questions since you showed up to class the next day; the only thing you hear for the next week is how much she regrets leaving early.

apparently, it's all yuji's fault.

my (riaki) stuff. don’t repost and/or plagiarize !

#ahhh im really sorry this is late;; got busy with life like those ao3 authors but much less impressive #i really like jazz i feel like not enough people do #just listen to persona music sometime. its worth #sometimes i make up words but thats ok as long as people buy it. i speak english first language trust 👨‍🔬#i feel like reader is kokomi or whatever her name is from saiki k #at that one ramen place but its a thrift store.. pretending it’s not all that bad except reader doesn’t rlly try LMFAO #for megumi!!! everything we do is for him 💐#megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #fushiguro megumi x you #megumi x reader #megumi x you #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x y/n #billet-doux #and via thinks her titles r bad #I CAN FINALLMY. WORK ON MY CHRISTMAS EVENT

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hotdaemondtargaryen · 5 months ago

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EWAN MITCHELL PHOTOGRAPHED AND INTERVIEWED FOR THE NEW YORK TIMES MAGAZINE.

ABOUT BEING RECOGNIZED

Like most people, Ewan Mitchell is accustomed to anonymity.

So during a recent trip to Manhattan, he was surprised by what a hotel doorman asked when he arrived: “You haven’t packed your eye patch?”

The actor is still getting used to strangers making the connection in public.

“I wouldn’t think people would recognize me, but they do.”

“I think it’s because of my strong chin.”

“When I’m dressed up as Aemond and catch myself in the mirror, he scares even me a little bit.”

When he’s not in character, Mitchell is soft-spoken and occasionally flashes a boyish grin, though he retains much of Aemond’s seriousness and quiet intensity.

He is also very private: He stays off social media and in the past has shied away from sharing much with the public.

“Once you lose the mystery, you can’t really get it back.”

HE KNOWS THAT AEMOND'S KEY ROLE IN S2 MEANS HE MUST ALSO EMBRACE THE SPOTLIGHT:

“There is a point where you have to go, now’s the time to pull back the curtain.”

Like Aemond, Mitchell is a second son.

He grew up in Derby, an industrial town in the middle of England, and his parents expected him to follow his older brother’s footsteps and work at Rolls-Royce (the aerospace and industrial technology company, not the carmaker).

HIS INSPIRATIONS AND BECOME AN ACTOR

Inspired by films like “Citizen Kane” and “Taxi Driver,” Mitchell knew early on he wanted to become an actor.

When he was 13, his teacher asked each student in his class what they wanted to do when they grew up.

“Then it came to me, and I said, ‘I’m going to be an actor,’ and everyone laughed at me.”

His family could not afford tuition for drama school, so Mitchell attended a two-year vocational school, where he studied design and technology while working part-time at a restaurant and in customer service at a local soccer club.

Midway through the program, at 17, he was accepted into the Nottingham Television Workshop, a drama group that trains young people in acting.

Through the Workshop, Mitchell landed a leading role in a 2015 short film called “Fire,” about a young man who leaks fire from his hands.

Once the short was released, Mitchell downloaded it onto a dozen CDs, took the train to London and stopped by the offices of every agent he could find, handing them each a copy.

The one person who called back continues to represent Mitchell.

“By hook or by crook, I wanted to make sure that I was going to be in this business.”

ABOUT BEING CASTED AS AEMOND TARGARYEN

Aemond’s growing prominence in the show requires Mitchell to embrace the spotlight as well.

“There is a point where you have to go, now’s the time to pull back the curtain.”

But being cast as Aemond in “House of the Dragon” has been his biggest professional turning point by far.

“Since landing him, I feel like I’m able to now steer the course of my career.”

Mitchell had been rewatching the classic Hollywood adventure film “The Vikings” (1958) and musing about how he wanted to play a morally dark character similar to the one played by Kirk Douglas when he received an email inviting him to submit a taped audition for Aemond.

When he eventually auditioned in person, he left a lasting impression on Ryan Condal, the showrunner for “House of the Dragon.”

“When Ewan came into the room, he just had this presence to him that I can best describe as unsettling,” Condal said.

“It was kind of quietly terrifying the way he performed it, and it was totally different than everybody else. And then he thanked us very politely and left the room.”

Condal recalls asking Kate Rhodes James, the casting director, “Is he always like that?”

She replied, “Oh no, he’s just a very intense northern boy.”

To prepare for his role, Mitchell did not watch “Game of Thrones.” Instead, he read portions of “Fire & Blood,” the book by George R.R.

Martin that inspired the show, and studied the performances of Michael Fassbender in “Prometheus” and Peter O’Toole in “Lawrence of Arabia,” each playing a figure who wields power for his own ends.

ABOUT MATT SMITH AND DAEMON TARGARYEN

On his first day on set, Mitchell consulted with Condal and decided that he would avoid interacting with Matt Smith, who plays Aemond’s similarly menacing uncle and rival, Daemon, in order to heighten the tension between the two characters.

Mitchell had grown up admiring Smith’s performance in “Doctor Who.”

But on set Mitchell avoided any eye contact with him, keeping his distance until the climactic scene near the end of the first season when Aemond and Daemon finally face off.

“There’s this addictive kind of quality when you’re in the shoes of a character.”

“When you lose yourself for a moment, it’s almost like a dream.”

ABOUT HIS HOME AND HIS DOGS

When he isn’t acting, Mitchell still lives at his family home in Derby and spends time with his dogs, three whippets named Eva, Bella and Bonnie.

“Now that I’m on it.”

“I’ve just got to stay on the dragon.”

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apocalypse-shuffle · 2 months ago

Text

AMBER FREEMAN | GHOSTFACE (scream 2022)

—

“Sent A Whole World Crying - pt1” (unrequited Amber Freeman x Fem!Reader) and (background Mindy Meeks-Martin x Fem!Reader)

| You accidentally let Amber know that you think she’s Ghostface (through DM’s); she’s not about to let you live through that mistake, obviously…probably.

| NSFW, canon typical violence, psychological trauma, unrequited feelings, angst (TW: general sadism, malicious concern, some taunting, reader-insert is harmed, slight metaphorical smut - some of the descriptors and dialogue I use are suggestive enough that it could be triggering.)

| Listen I’ve seen the analysis of who killed who in the movie, but for the sake of this fic I don’t care. (pic source: scream 2022 + promotional poster)

| Happy Early October!!

| 4k+ words

You:

- Mindy I’m telling you! - She keeps disappearing during the kills and then coming back all twitchy - Why aren’t you answering? You were all for looking into this shit earlier - Mindy! - I know you love Tara and they used to date or whatever but you know I’m right. - She’s probably Ghostface - Come on girl I’m being serious

You’ve been texting Mindy for the last two hours now and she’s still yet to answer you.

You didn’t know if it was because of how much shit you gave her for her insistence on trying to figure out who’d attempted to kill Tara a few nights ago (as if murder accusations were just mere gossip), or because she just hadn’t checked her texts yet, but this was bugging you to much for you to drop.

Hypocritical or not.

At first you’d blown off the signs, but red flags were red flags and eventually if they added up enough they started to look like blood splattered on the walls. Which didn’t help with the way your friend’s particular brand of paranoia was starting to rub off on you.

Now, you’ve managed to work yourself up so much at Amber’s most recent disappearing act that you’d nearly ran home so you could safely text Mindy.

In a circumstance that was beginning to be rarer and rarer for you both you couldn’t be up underneath each other right now so her DM’s would have to suffice.

She was busy with the film club at the moment, but she’d never once begrudged you texting her whenever and after going out with her and her friends last night then stewing over your observations all day you needed to tell somebody what you thought.

You weren’t very close to the group Mindy hung out with — you fucked with your own company just fine — but you and Mindy had become close over your mutual hate of your philosophy class and eventually she’d stumbled through asking you to hang out as a group (still blunt as ever even despite her raging blush) so you’d been with her friends at the bar only because she asked.

Friendship obligations, and all that.

It wasn’t like you didn’t want to figure out who would do something so horrible just as much as they did either. It was just that you only truly cared for Mindy and Chad’s sakes.

Or at least as much as most of them wanted to figure this situation out.

Amber talked a big game about caring for Tara’s safety above all else and vetting everyone the smaller teen came into contact with, but after that jerk who got y’all kicked out left Amber had disappeared too. She came back overly excited — weird considering her best friend was almost brutally murdered — and there had been smudges on her shoes. You couldn’t confirm that it was that guy's blood, but you certainly felt like it was. The glint of something thick and wet was pretty hard to miss even on black boots.

Which was why you needed Mindy to answer you. You couldn’t bank on Amber fucking off around the same time the news reported Ghostface killed that man being a happy little coincidence.

Amber was pushy and rude on a good day and on a bad you’d seen her be downright malicious before, tripping someone down the stairs after he’d bumped into her type of malicious.

Plus ever since you started hanging out with Mindy you’ve noticed her staring at you more often, and no matter the contemplative look on Amber’s face whenever you caught her staring, her attention still made the hairs on the back of your neck prickle.

Sighing, you unlock your phone and check your messages again, pacing around your room all the while, before something catches your eye.

That wasn’t Mindy’s handle. It just looked nearly identical.

Shit, no wonder she wasn’t responding.

Jolting to a stop in the middle of the room, you rush to delete the messages.

It’s as you’re deleting the fourth that the green ‘active now’ dot shows up beside the unfamiliar username and then ‘read’ pops up underneath your last three texts.

“Damnit,” you grumble, still deleting the last couple texts. It won’t do much now, but if you were fast enough the person at least won’t be able to show anyone else or prove what you said.

Your stomach flips a little as you see the three dots pop up in the vacant space left behind by your erasing spree.

You freeze.

And then, heart in your stomach, you just react, exiting out of the conversation and going to the person's account and blocking them.

Oh god, you were so fucked. Shit. You really hoped that wouldn't come back to bite you on the ass.

You sit down on your bed with a huff, heart beating so fast it feels like you just ran the mile in gym class again. Dropping your phone on your comforter you shake out your trembling fingers. You suppose that was a sign that maybe you should just keep your opinion to yourself.

You rub your hands down your face.

Yeah, okay. Problem kind of (maybe) avoided for now. You’d just have to hope for the best.

You grunt, “Okay, I need a nap.”

And then you take that nap. As is your right.

─────

You’re jarred from sleep a few hours later by the sound of a continuous series of buzzing, and glare sleep crusted eyes up at your blurred ceiling fan.

Mindy had better not be calling you for some contrite shit again, like helping her beat Chad at whatever late night game they’d decided to occupy their twin insomnia with at — rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you look at your phone — eleven pm.

Honestly though, who else would be ballsy enough to start rapid texting you like this in the goddamn middle of the night? The other girl knew you went to sleep around nine on school nights, but Mindy did whatever she—

It feels like your heart stops beating as your Face ID unlocks your phone and you finally read the messages. Ones sent from what looks like a throwaway account with a handle you don’t remotely recognize.

The particular messages, on the other hand, are horribly familiar.

Unknown:

Wide eyed, you can’t do anything but watch as another series of messages are sent.

Unknown:

- you think I’m some bitch faced little girl - well I’ll show you

And just like that you hear the power in the house cut off and watch with stilted breath as the service bar at the top of your screen goes down.

Immediately afterwards a message pops up on your phone to inform you that you’ve lost service even.

Shit.

You blink at your screen for another few seconds, brows furrowing, before whipping your head up to look around your room. Flashes of Tara battered to hell in the hospital and the memory of Sam telling you all about the attempted attack on her in that very place, mere hours after Tara had been checked in, fill your brain to the brim.

Mind feeling stuffed with static you let out a harsh breath through your nose, hand squeezing hard onto your device, and take a glance out the broken blind in your window to clock that there for sure wasn’t a power outage happening anywhere else but at your house.

So someone was definitely fucking with you.

Fuck, you gotta think.

How the killer even got the dm’s you sent if they weren’t Amber wasn’t a question for now, but how you’d get out of this mess certainly was. With your younger sibling down the hall from you, and your parents still out of the house clubbing, there was only one other person you had to worry about.

Now you just had to figure out how to get to them without tipping off whoever the hell else was also in your house.

Hold on.

You never checked who exactly it was you’d been texting before.

Opening Snapchat, you simultaneously tumble as quietly as possible from your bed, only briefly getting caught up by your blanket tangling around your legs.

When you check you see that, yup, it was Amber’s account (who’s handle was now ridiculously similar to Mindy’s and was only saved on your phone in the first place because Mindy had asked you to send her one of your summer assignments from this year to copy).

Goddamnit.

“Why me?” you whisper; but truly, you should’ve made sure you were talking to the right person if you were going to start making fucking murder accusations.

This shit was on you.

Teeth grinding, you stuff your phone into the pocket of your shorts then start crawling around the floor till you can begin prying open your door. Opening it as far as you know it can go before it starts creaking then inching yourself the rest of the way into the hall.

Sure you had a problem if this wasn’t some elaborate prank — which you doubted, but the possibility was always there considering the kind of assholes you went to school with — but you couldn’t jump out of your window and just leave your sibling to die.

It’s when your mission is about halfway accomplished, and you’re nearly to your sibling's room, that you hear a creak.

You freeze alongside it. Breathing with your mouth slightly open to minimize the amount of noise you’re making.

Should you just make a run for their room? Should you duck back into yours? Should you shout their name and hope for the best?

In your periphery a flash of white streaks across the dark abyss that is the rest of your house.

Then, you’re only allowed enough time to start the beginnings of a scream before you’re being thrown into the hallway wall, cutoff exclamation choking in your throat and something blunt and heavy slamming into your forehead before you can catalog anything but the sound of fabric billowing in a rush and the feel of hands grabbing at you.

The shout you let out at the second hit is muffled by a gloved hand slapping over your mouth, the impact stinging your face and making your eyes water.

In that same motion your attacker catches you by the hip, hauling, and combined with the force they barreled into you with that’s all they need to make you trip backwards.

You slam into the wall with an ‘oof,’ but your attacker hardly pauses before using their body to flatten yours against the wall and force your wrists together in front of you.

As you’re blinking the spots from your eyes and trying to make out the person in the darkness a metallic click sounds through the air. And all you can do is flinch as two icy metal bands are cinched around your wrists in quick succession and your vision finally adjusts.

The metal locking together pinches at your skin but there’s so much else going on that you don’t even grimace, too busy trying to find your breath after the sight in front of you stole it.

A face. White, screaming in agony, and floating in the shadow like something straight out of Munch’s worst nightmares.

There’s a Ghostface mask less than a foot away from you.

Real and unavoidable and close enough for the starkness to hurt your eyes against the blanket of night all around you.

In Woodsboro it's a familiar sight, whether on the screen during local stabathons and tv edits at home or in costume shops around any one of the many killing spree anniversaries or Halloween.

Up close as it is to you in this scenario, however, it almost doesn’t feel real.

The mask is tilted in a way that feels like the person behind it is examining you; like a dissection. A hand sprouts from the darkness and shifts it back straight over the person’s face, however, and instantly your worry is no longer an assumption.

If you’d thought before that the tilt felt violating, the full force of Ghostface’s direct gaze actually on you feels heavy enough to strip flesh.

Like acid dripping past your throbbing head, over your face, and down the upper half of your body.

From how crooked the mask was you’d guess that’s what hit you, what’s caused the drowning thump thump pounding through your skull and the stinging sensation traveling across your forehead.

The freak had head butted you.

Slow as you can, you shift your head to the side — hoping there isn’t a streak of blood against the wall left in your wake — just enough to press your temple into the cool wall with a groan.

It’s then Ghostface’s head truly tilts and you get to know what the weight of their curiosity really feels like.

The movement itself is silent, but the click of a tongue and the hand that comes up to press over your forehead is not.

At the first touch of covered fingers to your dark skin your blood practically flash-freezes in your veins.

Gritting your teeth against your possible concussion you make a valiant attempt to meld into the wall, but a hand making itself remembered once more on your hip keeps you from fully running away, and the other reaching for you doesn’t relent.

“You’re so pretty like this, Y/n,” Ghostface’s modulated voice says, deep and smooth, as your assailant pushes on the sore area where you temple meets the wall until you turn to face them again; their tongue wrapping possessively around the call of your name without hesitation. “Submitting for me.”

“Jesus,” you whimper, shaking against the insistent feel of their thumb rubbing against the angry vein showing on your temple. “How do you know my—?”

“—Uh uh,” their overbearing timbre cuts in as they pull themselves closer to you, “keep asking questions like that and you’ll ruin the surprise.”

What fucking surprise? Did this asshole plan on dragging this out all night?

Could you figure a way out of this mess by then?

Biting the inside of your lip, you meet the abyss of a gaze in front of you in spite of the chill it sends down your spine. Try to think past the sensation of spiders crawling through your bloodstream that Ghostface’s generous touch elicits.

You swallow, saliva thick past the budding lump in your throat.

“Can you stop?” you force out.

The killer freezes.

You nearly pass out trying to keep yourself from recoiling or apologizing or both by holding your breath before they finally talk again.

“Why? You don’t want me to be concerned?”

Concerned?!

“I don’t,” you say, lips stiff.

What you wanted was to have this over with, not whatever twisted brand of care this Ghostface operated on.

A beat passes where you think they’ll keep pressing, maybe make a point of knocking you again, but then they…stop. Slim hands retreat from your space entirely and down to the killer’s sides.

You doubt their hands will stay still for long, though, and you haven’t thought up how you’re gonna get around them yet — call for your sibling to go get help, maybe?

You cut your eyes at the ghostly specter, at their height and intense focus on you, and remembering the speed they’d ambushed you with earlier you reconsider.

Risking your sibling’s life over a hunch that you already weren’t confident on wasn’t happening. There was no part of you that believed you’d stand a chance at overpowering this Ghostface long enough for no one but you to get hurt.

Something glints in the corner of your eye and you come out of your head with a start. There’s a knife in the killer’s hand now, twisting and twirling around deft fingers before their gaze swings back to you and the blade swings out to lazily point your way.

“Planning?”

“No.”

They laugh, likely not trusting your answer for a moment.

“Fine. Don’t tell me. We can play a game instead.” They pivot once, angling their body towards the door closest, and your heart skips a beat. “I spy with my little eye something that squeaks and creaks and leads to fresh meat.”

And just in case you managed to miss the killer’s meaning, they use the tip of their knife to point towards your sibling’s closed bedroom door twice in a motion too similar to stabbing for your liking.

“What do you think?” they ask, and take a slow deliberate step to the door right afterwards.

“Don’t!”

Lunging across the space Ghostface has made between you, you grab hold of their wrist with trembling hands and bite the proverbial bullet.

The “Please,” comes falling out your mouth like water, and only a tinge of something sour follows it.

Ghostface doesn’t do so much as twitch when they glance back at you, though, shoulders shaking under the cloak.

“‘Please’,” they repeat, roiling laughter clear even through the distortion, “but I thought you didn’t want my concern?”

“I’ll scream,” you counter, pushing past the sinking in your gut to bring your other hand up to form a double clamp around the killer.

Bottomless perpetually gaping eye cutouts stare back at glistening ebony brown eyes for one breath— four, until you yank.

There is no plan when you rush past them, just the sinking feeling that something was going to have to give soon and the knowledge that you’d be damned if it was the person in the room you're running to.

Your hand is on the doorknob, your sibling’s name on the tip of your tongue, when a sound cracks through the air. Your leg buckles, there’s a pressure at the back of your knee, the heat of another body latches onto your back, a hand claps over your mouth, and then you’re tipping over.

Ghostface brings you down with so little fanfare you’d be embarrassed if you had the wherewithal. Wrestles your flailing ass to the floor right in front of the door and keeps you down with their legs pinning your hips.

It’s not until you hit the floor that everything catches up with you.

Heat like you’ve never known screams from the bend of your knee like a piping kettle, and the wail that scratches its way up your throat when you instinctively try to get away by gaining purchase on the tile with your injured leg leaves you shaking into the floor.

With a chuckle your attacker shushes you, gloved hand made wet from your drool and tears patting against your open mouth.

“Shhh.” They shift back and you whimper at the feel of every millimeter of movement that even that small motion forces your foot to make. “You wouldn’t want your little sibling to hear, would you?”

The voice modulator makes the question sound even more taunting and the deep timber of it curls your toes — the twitch making your left leg burn — coming from so close to your ear.

Gloved fingers run along the serrated edges of the hole in your cracked knee where the knife’s still embedded, circling the pounding back of your leg until shivers rack up your body.

The touch is light.

You want to saw your leg off so you never have to deal with even the memory of the feel of it ever again.

“I’d hate to have to deal with him if he comes to investigate the strange noises, yeah?” they say, pausing right afterwards.

It’s a prompt if you’ve ever heard one. They even lift their hand from your leg.

Mind whirling with thoughts of the blood seeping out the sides of your knee to stain the floors and the agony emitting from the stab wound it takes you a few seconds to answer.

You force your words out past your shaky lips eventually, however. The stuttering agreement tasting like ash on your tongue.

“Good girl,” the modulated voice damn near coos in response, and part of you wishes you’d gotten stabbed through the ears instead.

There’s shuffling from above you, the sounds of fabric slipping over something barely registering over the rushing of blood through your ears.

You’re bleeding—

You’ve been stabbed—

Fuck, your leg is on fire—

Without an ounce of remorse deft fingers press down on where the back of your knees’ been stabbed through again, hand holding tight to the side of your leg, and a whimper falls unbidden past your lips.

Breathy, throaty, feminine laughter sounds right beside your ear as your killer settles over you.

Soft lips brush the shell of your ear and wispy black locks of hair fall into your peripheral.

“I guess it was me after all,” a voice you recognize croons, barren of any modulation.

Holy shit, Mindy had been right.

“A- Amber…?”

Your voice is small where you get it out from between pants for breath, leg throbbing hard enough to cut your focus completely.

Nothing feels real except for the throbbing, not the floor beneath you or the drool running down your chin.

“Mhm,” she giggles, breath ticking the side of your neck and making you shiver. It only takes a second for her to shiver back, breathe against your skin stuttering when she groans and presses down harder on your wound. You mewl and can feel exactly how Amber’s smile spreads. “Aww, just like that, Hun. Now we’re getting to the good part.”

Amber rises up from over you and then relentlessly grabs ahold of your shoulders and has you twist around until your upper body is facing her, and fifty percent of your concentration has to go to keeping your lower body in the opposite direction than the rest of you so you don’t aggravate your knee anymore.

Hair wild and damp with sweat atop her head the smile she gives you is all teeth in the faint moonlight that halos her face.

“Bet you’re reconsidering who you got close to now, huh?”

You grit your teeth, trying and failing to get enough leverage so you can spit in her face.

At the angle she’s forced you into her weight over your hips was more effective than you’d thought, though. Spitting from where you were would only serve in getting you smacked in the face with your own saliva.

“Gah— fuck! It’s not Mindy’s fault you’re a fucking sociopath,” you say behind clenched teeth.

You wonder if your friend would care if you died. Would Mindy cry when your death was announced? Would she immediately suspect Amber again? Confront her?

You’d been the one to comfort her when the news about Tara had come through before Chad could get to you guys. She’d struggled for a few minutes before a few tears had trickled down her cheeks, tears that she’d wiped away with a personal vengeance until you took one of her hands and wove your fingers together. Mindy had given you this wide look you’d never seen before, hazel eyes lost, before finally letting herself sob curled up to your side with her hand in yours. Did you hold that same amount of space in her mind, though?

In her heart?

Amber clicks her tongue, and instantly you’re reminded that whether Mindy and you could’ve ever been more than friends won’t matter anymore. “Wrong answer, Sweetie,” she says, and without another word rips the knife from your body in one pull.

Just barely you manage to stop the scream you want to let out by clamping down on your lower lip, teeth completely bypassing putting an indent into the skin and instead cutting directly through the plush of it as you buck uncontrollably against Amber.

Chest heaving and with tears sprouting in your eyes and beginning to pool, you watch for her next move and are heartbroken to say you aren’t disappointed.

With a flourish she brings the knife up to your face. You watch it with wide shaky eyes, heart sounding louder than your labored breaths in your ears.

The sharp side of the blade runs feather light down the side of your face, her gaze intent on it. On how the silver contrasts with the little streams of blood it leaves in its wake against your dewy brown skin. On how your lashes flutter anxiously, and the muscles in your face twitch beneath her touch.

“I didn’t mean that,” she says softly. She shifts the blade so that she can splay the flat of it over your mouth and purses her lips, eyes glittering and crazed and a little hurt. “I meant that you should’ve picked me, Sweetheart. I like you. And I like that you were thinking about me so much you figured me out. If you had just picked me I would’ve spared you,” she whispers last, face closer to yours now, before leaning in to press a kiss to the other side of the blade over your quivering lips.

The scent of your own blood makes your stomach roil, but the feel of her breath fanning your skin and the ecstatic expression that takes over her face when she leans away to lick her lips forces a sob from you.

Shuddering, you look up at her, a tear finally breaking free to roll down your face.

There is no one to hold you when you break.

Amber giggles, the flash of her teeth bloody.

“Just let me do it,” she whispers, voice low as she moves to run the warm tip of the knife down your side. “Be good for me, be mine this once, and I won’t go into that room and paint those walls red with your sibling’s blood.”

And so you cooperate; biting down into your forearm as muffled cries and wails tear up your throat. Amber plunges the blade deep, hits organs and cracks through bone with low grunts, and each stab feels like a little more of your soul drifting away.

You jolt, she adjusts her weight to accommodate your pained reaction like it’s practiced. You bite down so hard you break skin, teeth sinking into your body and feeling like masochistic relief that at least this pain was your own doing, she leans over to lick around your teeth with a groan. She gives and you take and you don’t scream out loud.

What a perfect victim you’ve made.

The tears never stop flowing from your eyes. So much salt they begin to burn alongside the bite in your arm that’s steadily mixing with blood and snot, and the entire rest of your body that’s near indistinguishable apart from the pain.

Nothing feels real except for the way Amber rides out your death spasms and the never ending stream of pleas to keep yourself silent that have long since turned into a sequenced tune in your head that you’re already forgetting.

As Amber’s honeyed taunts follow you under you know without debate that you have never known pain so intimate as what she’s brought upon you, and nothing so tender as death’s incoming embrace.

At least your younger sibling would be okay.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!! I tried posting this yesterday, but it wasn’t showing up under any of the tags so I’m trying again. ❤︎

I missed some shit when editing for sure, but I will come back to catch them later. I also don’t know how I feel about the way this flows, but maybe I just need to not look at it for a bit idk.

So the reader-insert may not have actually died here, but I don’t know for sure just yet. I would like for the second part to be a GF!Mindy x Reader-Insert x Jealous!Amber type deal though.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

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takemeinyrarmy · 1 month ago

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BoyBoy book club⭑.ᐟ

These books have either been mentioned or recommended by the boys, list made to the best of my memory, some notes added for context + little abstract. [(A.) = Aleksa's rec; (L.) = Lucas' rec; (Al.) = Alex's rec] Reply or reblog to add more to update the list thanks!

⊹ Caliban and the Witch: Women, the Body and Primitive Accumulation - Silvia Federici (A.) [Aleksa's commentary: Also 'Caliban and the Witch' by Silvia Federicci is brilliant. It's a great marxist-feminist retelling of the European witch-hunts, it's really really cool. It completely flipped my view of the birth of capitalism... She posits that capitalism is a reaction to a potential peasant revolution in Europe that never succeeded, and situates the witch-hunt as a tool of the capitalist class to break peasant social-ties and discipline women into their new role as reproducers of workers.] || Is a history of the body in the transition to capitalism. Moving from the peasant revolts of the late Middle Ages to the witch-hunts and the rise of mechanical philosophy, Federici investigates the capitalist rationalization of social reproduction. She shows how the battle against the rebel body and the conflict between body and mind are essential conditions for the development of labor power and self-ownership, two central principles of modern social organization.

⊹ The Age of Surveillance Capitalism - Shoshana Zuboff (A.) || This book looks at the development of digital companies like Google and Amazon, and suggests that their business models represent a new form of capitalist accumulation that she calls "surveillance capitalism". While industrial capitalism exploited and controlled nature with devastating consequences, surveillance capitalism exploits and controls human nature with a totalitarian order as the endpoint of the development.

⊹ Anti-Oedipus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia - Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari (L.) || In this book , Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari set forth the following theory: Western society's innate herd instinct has allowed the government, the media, and even the principles of economics to take advantage of each person's unwillingness to be cut off from the group. What's more, those who suffer from mental disorders may not be insane, but could be individuals in the purest sense, because they are by nature isolated from society.

⊹ Open Veins of Latin America - Eduardo Galeano (A.) (Intro to LATAM history, infuriating but good.) (Personal recommendation if you know nothing about LATAM.) || An analysis of the impact that European settlement, imperialism, and slavery have had in Latin America. In the book, Galeano analyzes the history of the Americas as a whole, from the time period of the European settlement of the New World to contemporary Latin America, describing the effects of European and later United States economic exploitation and political dominance over the region. Throughout the book, Galeano analyses notions of colonialism, imperialism, and the dependency theory.

⊹ The Origin of Capitalism - Ellen Wood (A.) || Book on history and political economy, specifically the history of capitalism, written from the perspective of political Marxism.

⊹ If We Burn - Vincent Bevins (L.) || The book concerns the wave of mass protests during the 2010s and examines the question of how the organization and tactics of such protests resulted in a "missing revolution," given that most of these movements appear to have failed in their goals, and even led to a "record of failures, setbacks, and cataclysms".

⊹ The Jakarta Method - Vincent Bevins (A.) [Aleksa’s recommendation for leftists friends] || It concerns U.S. government support for and complicity in anti-communist mass killings around the world and their aggregate consequences from the Cold War until the present era. The title is a reference to Indonesian mass killings of 1965–66, during which an estimated one million people were killed in an effort to destroy the political left and movements for government reform in the country.

⊹ The Anarchy: The Relentless Rise of the East India Company - William Dalrymple (L.) [Not read by the boys yet, but wanted to read.] || History book that recounts the rise of the East India Company in the second half of the 18th century, against the backdrop of a crumbling Mughal Empire and the rise of regional powers.

⊹ The Triumph of Evil: The Reality of the USA's Cold War Victory - Austin Murphy (A.) || Contrary to the USA false propaganda, this book documents the fact that the USA triumph in the Cold War has increased economic suffering and wars, which are shown to be endemic to the New World Order under USA capitalist domination.

⊹ Technofeudalism: What Killed Capitalism - Yanis Varoufakis (L.) || Big tech has replaced capitalism’s twin pillars—markets and profit—with its platforms and rents. With every click and scroll, we labor like serfs to increase its power. Welcome to technofeudalism . . .

⊹ The History of the Russian Revolution - Leon Trotsky (A.) [Aleksa's commentary: This might be misconstrued since I'm not a massive fan of Trotsky... but... his book "History of the russian revolution" is amazing. It's so unique to have such a detailed history book compiled by someone who was an active participant in the events, and he's surprisingly hilarious. Makes some great jokes in there and really captures the revolutionary spirit of the time.] || The History of the Russian Revolution offers an unparalleled account of one of the most pivotal and hotly debated events in world history. This book presents, from the perspective of one of its central actors, the profound liberating character of the early Russian Revolution.

⊹ Rise of The Red Engineers - Joel Andreas (A.) [Aleksa's commentary: It's a sick history book, focusing on a single university in China following it's history from imperial china, through the revolution and to the modern day. It documents sincere efforts to revolutionize the education system, but does it from a very detailed, on-the-ground view of how these cataclysmic changes effect individual students and teachers at this institution.] || In a fascinating account, author Joel Andreas chronicles how two mutually hostile groups—the poorly educated peasant revolutionaries who seized power in 1949 and China's old educated elite—coalesced to form a new dominant class.

⊹ Adults in the Room: My Battle with the European and American Deep Establishment - Yanis Varoufakis (A.) [Aleksa's commentary: The book I mentioned earlier - "adults in the room" - is amazing. There's a great description of Greece's role in the European economy [as an archetype for other, small European countries] and the Union's successful attempts to discipline smaller countries to keep their monetary policy in line with the interest of central European bankers. I'd definitely reccommend it!] || What happens when you take on the establishment? In Adults in the Room, the renowned economist and former finance minister of Greece Yanis Varoufakis gives the full, blistering account of his momentous clash with the mightiest economic and political forces on earth.

Edit: Links added when possible! If they stop working let me know or if you have a link for the ones missing.

#IDK if anyone else is interested in this but in case anyone finds it useful <3 #boy boy #aleksa vulović #alex apollonov #ididathing #ngl most of this r aleksa/lucas recs.... idk if any of them are alex sorry i forgot?

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