#I wasn't formally tagged to do one but I did it anyway~

[heavndoll]

𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓.

pairings — fem reader and eddie munson.

summary — you and eddie are childhood best friends, and you've always trusted him. your love for him was innocent — his love for you was the complete opposite.

warning tags — adult language and semi-graphic violence. dark!eddie munson. unhealthy obsessive and possessive behavior. eddie like worships reader, reader lowkey is into it. term “y/n” is used once (had to be sorry). the smut for the nasties; unprotected activities, f!ngering, oral (reader receiving), choking, degradation, overstim, eddie getting mean with his d!ck. there is aftercare <3

Eddie Munson was your best friend. You and him grew up together, homing in the same trailer park, and guardians being friends.

You were glad to have him in your life. He was always there, willing to tend to any of your needs, and would do anything for you.

You found it sweet.

But Eddie would kill for you. He knew you took all his gestures into an innocent, sweet manner, and he was okay with that — but he was in love with you.

A love that wasn't so gentle and safe. He was obsessed, and was repulsed to the idea of anyone else taking you from him.

No one knew you in all the ways he did.

There wasn't a right match for you, except for him. He patiently waited for you to understand that he was suitable for you, but as time went on, and you got with more guys, it became thinned out.

Eddie would give you a bit more time to accept the truth that he was the man you needed.

"Hey, Eds?" You asked, noticing he was zoned out. The chatter of Hawkins cafeteria couldn't even pull him away from his thoughts. Your sweet voice was the only thing that could.

"What's up?" Eddie asked, picking at the raisins in his lunch pale. "You okay?"

"Do you think there's something wrong with me?" You asked, a mere frowning playing on your lips.

"No, why?" Eddie was confused, his attention falling entirely on you. "Did someone say something to you?"

"No— well, I don't know," you mumbled, rubbing your temple. "You know how I have been talking to Brandon Smith for a while now?"

Eddie nodded, tuned in and listened carefully. "Yeah, one of Jason's other lap dogs."

You sighed, rolling your eyes. "Well, I thought things were good between us. We just went on a third date last Friday, and then, I found out he's taking Annie to the Winter Formal."

"What?" Eddie muttered.

"Yeah! It doesn't make sense to me either," you continued, pursing your lips. "I mean, we never clarified we were exclusive, but I thought we were getting somewhere."

Eddie's blood boiled, and fumed. His hands rolled up, tightening into fists, and had skilled at not showing you his visible anger. "There's nothing wrong with you," Eddie reassured, giving you a gentle smile. "Brandon is a cracked up fuck, anyway. No good for you."

"Yeah, maybe you're right," you chuckled lightly, and Eddie hummed, patting your shoulder. "It's just shitty. He seemed really genuine."

"You'll find someone good," he said, handing you his bag of trail mix. "You're a sweet girl, and for Brandon to do that is a douchebag move. You don't need that, okay?"

You flashed a soft smile at Eddie, nodding and began to eat the trail mix.

Eddie's friends came to sit at the table, but were the only ones to notice his dull, blank expression. They had a poor feeling it had to do with you, yet chose not to question, and simply eat their lunches.

You were too distracted in your conversation with Dustin to notice what was going on, and what ran through Eddie's head.

Brandon Smith was the only person in the locker room after his last period at Gym had ended. He was putting on his shirt, his hair damped and messy as he just gotten out of the shower.

A pair of footsteps creeped up the locker room, near him, and he raised a brow. Not particularly scared, but worried, he peeked behind the lockers, and didn't see a single person.

He shook it off, assuming it was a student who forgot their bag.

"Hey, Brandon!" Eddie exclaimed as he popped up on the opposite side of him, smiling. Brandon shrieked, earning a chuckle out of Munson. "Did I scare you?"

"What the fuck, freak?" Brandon snapped, zipping up his Gym bag. "What the fuck are you doing in here?"

"Here to chat," Eddie answered. "That's all."

"Chat?" Brandon nearly barked a laugh, rolling his eyes. "What makes you think I would want to talk?"

"Oh, but you're fine with chatting with me when you're fuckin' fiending!" Eddie said, clear and loud enough for any remaining people in the locker room to hear.

Brandon glared at him. "That's a different scenario."

"Not really," Eddie muttered, stuffing his hands into his own pockets, his hand grasping onto the switchblade that sat within the right one.

Brandon sighed, realizing he wouldn't be able to leave until Eddie got his words across. "Okay, what do you want?" He asked, leaning against the lockers, Eddie only standing a few inches away in front of him. "I got places to be."

"Tell me what happened with Y/N," Eddie said, monotone and blunt in a blink.

"What? Why?" Brandon wondered. "You're wanting to talk about her?"

Eddie hummed. "Answer the question."

"Well, man," Brandon sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. "She gave it up too easily, and got too many damn problems. She's a trailer park whore, and I didn't need that."

Eddie's head spun, and the light around him was slowly sinking into nothingness. "Gave it up?"

"Ya'know, her body, her pussy," Brandon clarified, finding it humorous. "She has no self respect, and that's pathetic."

Another word didn't come out of his mouth as Eddie grabbed him, and tossed him to the ground. Eddie's vision was a blur and his mind was clogged, but could understand the punches he was throwing into Brandon's face.

The rings on Eddie's fingers doubled the aggression and assault.

He swore he cracked his cheekbone, and caused a concussion, but didn't care. He didn't care if he killed him in this very locker room, because all that mattered is that he would stay away from you for good. That he would never talk about you in a derogatory way ever again.

Eddie needed to make sure of that – he had to.

"Fuck you!" He screamed as his fist collided into Brandon's left eye, and could hear him gasping, crying, and wanting to fight back, but Eddie's weight held him down. "Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!"

Eddie breathed heavily, one of his punches breaking Brandon's nose, an audible snap coming into his ears. He got up, hovering over the sobbing, vulnerable male.

He wanted to laugh — one of Hawkin's best basketball players, who was intimidating yet charming, and broader and stronger than Eddie, was now curled up in a ball, bleeding out of his face.

Eddie struck his ribcage with a hard kick, and Brandon groaned, pleading for mercy. "Fucking pussy," he mocked, tossing another strike of his foot to his side. "You deserve this. You deserve worse than this."

"I—I'm sorry!" Brandon sobbed, gasping heavier, trying to engulf oxygen into his bruising lungs. "Please."

Eddie crotched down, gripping a chunk of his hair, brought his head up and forced eye contact. "You're not sorry. You just make sure to never speak to her, or I will kill you next time." He released Brandon's hair from his grasp, his head thudding on the tile floors.

Eddie's every step had a bounce to it as he walked out of the locker room.

You were laying on your stomach on your bed, flipping through magazines as music faintly played in your bedroom. You carelessly eyed new styles, humming to yourself.

A knock planted softly at your door, and you peeked up, seeing your aunt. She smiled small, a cigarette dangling between her lips. "Chrissy Cunningham is on the phone," she exhaled a blow, "asking for you."

"Did she say why?" You wondered.

"No, but she sounds shaken up," your aunt continued, and you nodded, getting up from your bed, strolling to the kitchen where the landline hanged out at.

You picked up the phone, bringing it up to your ear. "Hey, Chris. What's up?"

"Brandon is in the hospital," Chrissy said, and your heart sank. She was sniffling, overly worried and in panic. "It's so bad."

You paused. "W—What happened? Why is he in the hospital?"

"Jason and the guys found him in the locker room," Chrissy's voice began to shutter. "He was beaten, really bad. Nose broken, ribcages fractured, nearly blind in his left eye — it's so gory."

"What? W—Who... What? This doesn't make sense," you said, unease and confused. "Did he say who?"

"No, he won't make a confession," Chrissy answered, sighing heavily. "Either way, he can barely talk, or make any sort of comprehension. He has a severe concussion."

You went quiet for a moment, trying to gather up pieces in your head, making a puzzle in your head.

Brandon did have enemies, but it was mostly outcasts, and the smartest kids in school — the opposite clique of him, and Jason's friends. But, those enemies were not capable of any harm, nor would attempt any. If they did, they'd get it worse.

Nothing had happened to him until today when you told—

"Chrissy, I have to go," you muttered, hanging up the line. You ran into your bedroom, grabbing your shoes, and slipping them. Your hands were shaking, your heart thumping and pounding in your eardrums, bile burning your throat.

It was just a thought, a consideration, and you knew Eddie would never hurt anyone.

He was too kind, and gentle.

You stalked out of your trailer, finding your aunt watering the front lawn with a new cigarette in her mouth. "You going to Eds?" She asked, and you hummed. "Okay, be safe."

You continued your stalking to Eddie's uncle's trailer, stomping up onto the porch, and pounded your fist against the door. "Edward Munson!" You shouted, banging persistently on the door. "I know you're in there, I can smell fresh pot!"

After a few more harsher hits, the door opened up, revealing a contented, shirtless Eddie, and had a joint in his mouth. "Well, if it isn't my favorite person," he joked, and crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against the door frame.

Red, bruising spots were visible on his knuckles. He wasn't even trying to make them discreet.

You brushed past him as you welcomed yourself into his trailer, and he closed the door behind the both of you, his eyes falling into yours.

You stood in the middle of his living room, making a safe distance between the two of you. "Are you responsible for Brandon?" You questioned, and Eddie chuckled, flashing a toothy smile. "I don't have time for your shit, Eddie!"

"Oh, excuse me, sweetheart," Eddie snickered, burning his joint out onto the ashtray that sat on the living's room coffee table. "I knew you'd figure it out."

You scoffed. "So, you did?"

"I may have swung a punch or two at him," Eddie said, grabbing a cheap beer from the fridge. "Nothing too bad."

"He is in the hospital, Eds! He has a severe concussion, fractured bones!" You shouted, irritated at Eddie's amusement. "What the fuck did you do?"

"He called you a trailer park whore," he stated, walking to his bedroom as you trailed behind him. "Saying how you spread your legs easily for him, and that you were just bad for his bullshit reputation."

"He said that?" You asked, Eddie sitting on the edge of his bed, and you stood in front of him.

"He laughed at you. He was practically mocking you," he emphasized, scoffing harshly. "I took care of it. I handled it for you."

"But you didn't need to, Eddie!" You panicked, shaking your head in utter disbelief. "If he comes clean, you'll be arrested. You'll go to jail."

"I really don't care," Eddie said, grinning. "You think this is my first time doing this shit for you?"

You fell silent, suddenly lost in what he was saying.

He got up from his bed, only needing to take a few, close inches towards you. He looked down at you as you stared up at him. "Aidan Walter, Michael Dallas, Kyle Thorne, Richard Fields, Brandon Smith — they all had the same thing to say about you. They degraded you proudly, and you think you deserve that?'

Your mouth opened, but your words croaked in your throat. Nothing came out, shock falling over you. "I... I don't know."

"Every time you came crying to me about a guy who did you wrong, I handled it. This isn't my first time, and they know they can't turn me in," Eddie explained, and you raised a brow. "They're drug addicts. They know if I sneak a word to their coach to drug test them, they're fucked."

"But they could turn you in for being a drug dealer," you retorted, and a faux pout dangled on Eddie's lips. "They have privilege, you don't."

He settled his beer down on his cluttered dresser, turning his attention away from you. "If that's the case, why haven't the others said anything?" Eddie questioned. "You haven't asked me why I did it — that's surprising."

"You did it because you want revenge? Because you were trying to be a good friend?"

"Revenge, yes. I'd beat those fuckers with no hesistation," Eddie agreed, shrugging lazily as he went back to sitting on his bed. "But, I did it because you don't deserve to be talked about like that. I did it because I would do absolutely anything for you — I'd fucking rip apart this filthy world for you."

You took a step back, a brutal realization striking you.

"Are you in love with me?" You asked, so simply, but with so much fear behind your words.

He hummed. "There's my smart girl."

You were oblivious — gullible — to Eddie's generosity, and kindness. A more crucial role behind every word, every action, every thought that came out of him. You didn't know how to comprehend anything, your mind fogged, and mute.

You should've been feeling sick to your stomach, nausea and terror was meant to consume and claim you entirely. A person who had received the news that their best friend beat — and nearly murdered — men who have hurt you, would run away, and shut them out forever.

You didn't do that. You were paralyzed in your spot, only hesitate to make eye contact with Eddie, and could feel his eyes boring into you.

What he did was unsettling and wrong, but your heart couldn't help to ache to what he did.

"You hate me now?" Eddie asked, and you inhaled sharply, peeking at him. You shifted over towards him, bringing him into an embrace, his head resting on your stomach as your hands rested on the back of his head.

"No, no," you mumbled, looking down at him. "But you could end up in jail because of this, Eddie. You have to understand that."

Eddie inhaled your perfume, his mind ransacking with complexed thoughts. He was glad you appreciated his devoted duty, but hated that you were worried about his well being.

He only cared that you would be safe.

"I'll be okay, doll," he muttered, practically smashing his face into your stomach.

You fiddled with his hair, not knowing what was to happen next. He was in love, and obsessed with you — that's not easy news to take in.

You let him out of your embrace, crouching down and stared up at him. "I can protect myself, and... I'm sorry you had to hear those things from Brandon."

Eddie took your face into his hands, his thumbs softly caressing your cheeks, and you could feel yourself melting into his touch.

A delicate touch that held so much violence behind it.

He could do immense damage to another human, but never to you. You were the peace in his chaotic world. You were serene, in contrast to his mayhem. You knew there was always a darkness that consumed him, but you granted such light to it, that he'd forget he even held it in him.

Eddie wanted to hold you close, skin absorbing into one another's, and have you forever. He wanted to tear you apart, but then mend you back together.

The silence that fell into the air was tight, and suffocating.

This man had been your best friend for years, and there was never any unbearable tension until now. In this very moment, where his eyes drowned into yours, and his lips quivered for the taste of yours.

"Can I kiss you?" Eddie cut the silence, his face cautiously inching into yours. "Please?"

A simple kiss, that could change the course of everything. But you wanted it — you wanted Eddie to kiss you. You had never craved such a risk until now.

You nodded. "You can kiss me, Eds."

He didn't let another second pass as his lips smothered yours, and his hands shifted to your waist, drawing you onto his lap. You propped yourself comfortably onto him, his hands snaking around your body, needing you close and secured.

You could taste pot on his lips, your cherry gloss mixing into it. His hands slipped under the sides of your shirt, yet went nowhere near your bra. His thumbs and hands grazed your soft, loving skin, and thought he must've been dreaming — he had yearned for this. For years.

Your own hands brushed his toned body, trickling down to the waistband of his sweats. You let your fingers curl around them, but wait there.

Eddie moved his face back, his taste disappearing from yours, and he grinned at your swollen lips. "Look at you," he mocked, admiring the desperation on your face. "You have no idea how long I've waited for you, sweetheart."

Your heartstrings tugged at his words, and the tips of your index and middle finger carefully touched his lips, eyes focused on this movement. "Do you really love me?" You softly asked. "Why do you love me?"

"You're the purity to this corrupted world," Eddie began, and you blinked up at him, and his gaze locked with yours immediately. "Your beauty is uncompared, and unbearable – it makes me a madman. Look what I've done for you; you have me in your power, and you don't even know it."

Eddie Munson is in love with me, you thought to yourself. He is in love with me, and I've been so blind to it.

The only man who'd ever wanted you for you. The only man who you didn't need to give your body to, to feel self-worth and loved. You could see in his eyes he meant what he said — that he swore his life on it. And if he were to ever hurt you, he would want death.

He would rather die, than to live with the knowledge that he dimmed your lightness, and damaged you.

"Please kiss me," you pleaded, wanting his love to soak and burn into your skin. "Kiss me, do what you want to me. But Eddie, do not leave me."

Eddie frowned. "I'd die without you."

You nodded, and your lips fell back onto his, bodies pressing against one another. His hands pulled you over and down onto his bed, your body trapped underneath his. "Are you sure you want this?" He asked hastily in between a kiss. "Do you?"

"Yes, I do," you breathed. "I want this."

Eddie kissed your cheek, leaning back, and shifted himself down in between your legs. You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching him take off your shoes, and then make his way to the waistband of your sweatpants.

He hooked his fingers under the hem of your bottoms and panties, looking up at you with another look of reassurance.

"I trust you," you said, and he pulled off both pieces of clothing, disposing them to a pile of his clothes on the ground.

Eddie parted your legs, laying himself on his stomach, and you could feel his hot breath blowing against your cunt. You relaxed your body, and Eddie's mouth attached itself to your area, earning a soft moan out of you.

You perked your head up, seeing the sight of him gladly eating you out. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, his strong hold locking them in place, and practically buried himself in between them. He moaned to the sweet taste of you, the vibrations buzzing against your sensitive hood.

His tongue ran up and down your slits, his lips plumped and stuck on your cunt. Your head fell back as your noises and breath grew louder, your mouth falling open the second he pushed two fingers into you, working them at a gentle, yet rapid pace.

Eddie was probably the only guy who knew how to properly eat you out, and you didn't have to fake an orgasm with.

"Fuck, fuck," you breathed. "Just like that, baby. Holy fuck."

His fingers were slamming into you, and his mouth separated from your cunt, his lips plumped and covered with your wetness. "Come here, sweet girl," he said as he hovered back over you. "Taste how good you are."

He placed his lips back onto yours, his fingers still violently pumping into you. Uncontrollable, lewd noises elicited out of you, being able to make out his grin pressing against your lips as he brought himself back from your mouth.

"So good for me, sweetheart," he praised,and adjusted himself back onto his stomach, hoisting your thighs over his shoulders. He hooked his mouth onto your cunt, devouring you once more, and you could feel a sweet scorch in the pit of your stomach.

It was too embarrassing and easy for you to cum this earlier than usual. You tried to ignore the hot sensation, focusing on the rhythm Eddie's tongue and mouth made on your cunt, and fucking good it felt.

Eddie had himself deep into your cunt, grateful to even pleasure you this well. All he wanted was to make you feel good.

The fire in your stomach ran to your thighs, and it became torturous to shut out. "Gonna cum," you warned, your voice shuddering. "Keep going, Eds. You're doing so good."

Eddie abided, never letting himself get a second of air as your thighs trembled on his shoulders. "Oh fuck!" You gasped, riding your orgasm out onto his fingers, and he let them fall out of you shortly after. His tongue lapped up your climax, his mouth sucking gently on your cunt.

Your chest heaved, and a fulfilled Eddie detached his mouth from your area, his mouth glistening with your juices. You peeked at him, chuckling and grinning at the sight of him.

"I'm not done with you yet," he said, his hand gripping your forearm, and you suddenly adjusted back on his lap. You whimpered as he used other hand to hold your jaw, having a firm grasp on it, and forcing you to pay attention to him.

"What now?" You asked.

Eddie placed his coated fingers on your bottom lip. "Suck."

You obliged, taking his fingers into your mouth. Eddie looked at you in pure awe, a cocky grin playing on his lips, and kissed the side of your head. Few seconds later, his fingers slide out of your mouth with a pop, and the knuckles of his hand caress your cheek so lovingly.

There was a flip in Eddie's eyes, and body language. He craved more of you, more of your body and desperation. He wanted your tears, screams, and sweat. He needed to see you plead under him, until you all you could think of was him senselessly fucking you.

For this, it was a danger. You were encouraging his obsession, and you couldn't tell if that was okay. It was flattering he hurt people for you, all because he wanted to defend you at every cost — like it was his soul purpose on Earth.

You weren't exactly opposed to his devotion to you, only in fright of how bad it could get.

It wasn't like you hadn't had your own moments when it came to Eddie and other girls. There were a few who had eyes on him, and always dumbly flirted with him — even in front of your bare eyes. You would always think you were being crazy for being jealous, especially when you got angry when Eddie would jokingly tease back at those girls.

You didn't want to share the attention he gave to you.

This was a bad idea. The worst idea to ever exist. But it didn't matter anymore — you and him were the perfect match. Maybe your need for him was always there, but you were too busy with others to notice it.

Those other guys didn't compare to Eddie Munson — none of them. And they would never commit their life to you.

Eddie had finally freed your jaw from his hand, but withheld staring at one another. "I know that look in your eye," he said, inhaling sharply. "You've finally come to your senses. I've been waiting for you to make that realization."

"How long?" You wondered.

"Forever," he answered, and planted his hands under your shirt, letting them carelessly rest there. "Even if you didn't, I still would've handled every guy who fucked you over. I would do it until it caught up to me."

You sighed. "It just might. Brandon will blab."

"Then promise to bail me?" He asked, and you snickered, rolling your eyes.

"My aunt is going to have a rage if you get arrested," you joked, and his grin turned into a small smile. "Let's not worry about that right now, please. I just want you, I want this."

Eddie titled his head to the side, his smile fading. "Be more clear, sweet girl."

You turned coy, your body tensing as his hands gave your torso a squeeze. You decided not to speak, your lips laying on his, and he let your body rut against him. "You're going to drive me more insane," he mumbled, and you hummed. "Come on, doll. Ride me."

You didn't hesitate for a moment, breaking the kiss, and you drew off your top and bra, letting them drop to Eddie's floor.

"Fuck," Eddie breathed, taking a second to memorize your body, and how he just knew it was made for him. "Fuck, you're perfect, doll."

You smiled, and looked over to Eddie's nightstand, finding condoms to lay there. "I'm not your first fuck?" You asked, a hint of bitter in your tone as you snagged an individual wrapper.

"I deserved to have my own fun, don't you think?" Eddie retorted, dragging off his sweats and boxers, dropping them on the floor. He merely sat closer to the middle of his bed, seizing the condom from your hold, and you glared at him. "Don't be so jealous, doll. You're my only girl, promise."

"Were they a good fuck?" You asked, and Eddie snorted while rolling the condom onto his dick.

"And I thought I was too possessive," he mocked, and braced his hands onto your hips, his nails digging into your skin. You were about to protest until Eddie's cock shoved into you, and you gasped at the sudden contact. "Maybe I'll fuck you out."

Your breath hitched in your throat as you and Eddie worked together, your hips rolling and his cock hastily thrusting into you. "Fffucckk, oh my god," you babbled, squeezing your eyes shut, and overwhelmed at Eddie's size.

"You take me so well," Eddie praised, another faux frown on his lips, and grabbed your face. "Look at me when I'm fucking you."

You obeyed as best as you could, cursing and moaning breathlessly. It felt like he was splitting you open, claiming your body entirely, and making you memorize the scynorichize of his cock pounding into your soaking cunt.

"I'm going to fucking damage you," he assured, his hand squeezing your cheeks, and felt as if his nails were drilling into them. "Tear you right apart."

"Yeah?" You taunted, able to pass a giggle through your shuddering breathing. "You're going to hurt me? You're too soft for me to do that, Eds."

He stopped all movements for a moment, and his hand made a switch, sending a hit across your left cheek. It turned your head and neck entirely, feeling his handprint drowning into your skin.

You only laughed. "Slapping me? Some of the guys did the same thing," you said, looking back at Eddie, and wanted to punish him with your words. "I think it was Brandon who would pull my hair and call me his filthy slut."

Eddie snapped. He took your form back under him, your body flattened into his mattress as he hovered over you, his hand furiously grasping your throat. "And you took it like a slut too. Didn't you, silly girl?"

You smiled. "Maybe," you breathed out, able to feel his nails clawing into the sides of your neck. "Maybe I fucking loved every second of it."

"Oh, I'm sure," Eddie muttered, his cock stuffing your cunt again. "But I'm going to make sure you can only think of me forever."

He kept his hand on your throat, and pushed his cock rough into you as you swore he was nearly reaching into your stomach. Your eyes watered, breath hallowed and weak with your pleads for him coming out hoarse and rough, putting one of your hands on his wrist.

"No, you don't get to touch me," Eddie said, pushing off your hand with his free one. "You don't deserve to touch me, silly girl."

You huffed. "Why not?"

"Cause you let all those idiots touch you," Eddie taunted, mocking despair on his face. "And I should just leave you hot and bothered after what you said, but I didn't – so be grateful."

Your lungs engulfed immense amounts of oxygen when Eddie's pulled his hand back, moaning out his name like it was a prayer. He grinned, staying hovered over you, and let his cock sinking deeper and harder into you, watching you fall apart slowly to it.

Sweaty, hot skin smacked throughout Eddie's bedroom, being sure that the whole neighborhood could hear you whining and crying for more of him.

"You sound so pretty for me, doll," he moaned, grinning. He positioned himself back, in a near-sitting style as he tossed your legs over his shoulders and snaked his arms around your waist, continuing to push himself into you.

"Oh shit— ffucckk, Eddie, Eddie," you moaned mindlessly. You were locked in his hold, your body squirming and twitching. Your fingers gripped at his bedsheets, your mind being rotten with the focus of his dick, and how good it felt pounding into you, basically stuffing your cunt.

"Don't you dare fucking cum," Eddie forewarned, chuckling breathily. "Just be a good girl, and take my dick, babydoll. Just take me."

You nodded, knowing there was another climax making its build in your stomach, but refused to pay any mind to it. "You fuck me so good, Eds," you whimpered, eyes rolling back. "Need more of you, please."

"You have me, sweetheart," Eddie promised, pressing his hand on your stomach for additional torture. "But don't try to sweet talk me just so you can cum."

"Just once, please," you cried, resting your hand on top of his hand. "Please, I'll be so good for you."

"Are you not being good for me right now, hm?" He wondered, the ball of his palm sinking further into your belly. "What a pathetic girl you are, trying to get whatever you want."

You hissed and groaned. "Please, please. I c—can't."

"Is my poor girl going to cry?" He taunted, holding back a laugh. "If you cum right now, then you'll have to keep doing so until I think you're done."

"Y—yeah, please!" You agreed mindlessly, chewing harshly onto your lower lip.

He hummed, and tapped the side of your thigh as a sign. Your body nearly melted into his mattress, your orgasm pushing out of you, and you could see a flash of stars in your vision. "Oh fucking hell!" You screamed, your body twitching seconds later.

Eddie pushed your legs off of his shoulders, letting himself fall out of you, and was already rotating you around onto your stomach. "We're not done, sweet girl," he said, planting a gentle kiss to your cheek before his arms were looped around your limp form, bringing your ass close to him.

You were barely to collect any thoughts, groaning the moment Eddie was back in you. He worked at a slow, steady peace in you as he used his strength to hold you up and close, stifling a chuckle in his throat.

"You said you were going to be good for me," Eddie reminded, his fingers clawing and curling into your hair, forcing the majority of your body to be picked up and brought against his. "Is this all you can really take, hm? Made me think you were better than this."

You grinned, sweat beading on your forehead and body. Your face was close enough to his as you glanced up at him, trying to correct your breathing. "You made me think you were gonna fuck me better than the others," you said lazily. "But it's about the same."

"Yeah?" Eddie rolled his hips forward, snapping a single sharp and deep thrust into you, and all at once, he began to violently pound into you. He made sure to keep you close to him as yours and his moaned mixed, and echoed throughout his bedroom.

Your eyes fell to the back of your head, grasping onto Eddie's arms and could feel your body growing more frail within every thrust that pushed into you. You were entirely trapped in his hold – not that you were complaining, it felt nice.

"That's my good girl," he praised, passing a kiss to the side of your head. "You take my cock so well."

You hummed, nodding, and could only hear him breathily chuckle to your obedience. He let his right hand creep up between the valley of your breasts, and it wrapped itself around your throat, using it as an extra leverage to hammer himself deeper into you.

"You seem to be liking my cock a lot," Eddie teased as your noises shuddered, and tears pricked at the corner of your eyes from the overwhelming exhilaration and pleasure. "Just wanted to be fucked and treated like a whore. All you had to do was ask, sweetness."

"Ffucckk you— ahh!" You cried the second the head of his cock started to continuously strike at your orgasm. "Oh shit, ffuucckk! Right there!"

Eddie orgasm was rising, keeping you locked and tight on him as he allowed himself to be audible, letting you know how good you were making him feel. "Fuck, sweetheart, I'm gonna cum," he panted, giving you another sweet kiss to your cheek. "Cum with me, yeah? I want my girl to cum with me."

Your next climax had surfaced into the depths of your belly as you could feel Eddie's arms and body begin to tremble. "W—Wait!" You breathed, swallowing thickly. "I want you to cum in me."

"What?" Eddie chuckled, stopping himself entirely. "Repeat that for me."

"Oh, you heard me, Munson," you said, and he grinned. "And yes, I'm sure."

Eddie granted you that exact wish, letting himself out of you for a mere second and tossed his condom carelessly on his bedroom floor before taking his cock back into you. He looped his arms back around your form, tugging you back towards him as he perfectly fucked himself into you, and you bounced back onto his cock.

It didn't take long for both highs to come back to the surface, your head falling back and landing on his shoulder, and he smirked, brushing strands of hair out of your face. "Be a good whore, and cum," his breath was ragged and uneven, feeling it skim past your cheek. "Don't wanna disappoint me, hm?"

"N—no," you rasped, exhaustion slowly falling onto you but gathered enough energy to keep you going.

"Cum with me, honey," Eddie said, a hint of shudder playing in his words. You nodded, your high immediately crashing out of your body as your body jerked and nearly fell out of Eddie's grasp, but he had enough strength to hold you in his embrace.

He wasn't far behind you, his orgasm hitting its final peak, and rushing out of him, into you. He pushed softer and slower thrusts into you as he rode out his orgasm. Eventually, all his motions came to a stop, and his arms unhooked from your body, watching you collapse onto his mattress, and he fell out of you.

You took your time to recover your proper breathing pattern and energy, laying flat on your stomach, and you could feel sweat stick and drip around your body.

Eddie rested next to you, not caring that you were both drenched in sweat desire, and brought you next to him, letting you rest in his arms. Your head was on top of his chest, listening to his heartbeat as he was also trying to catch his breath.

"So that was," you tried to speak, your throat scratchy and hoarse. "Oh fuck."

He stifled a laugh, smiling in pure pride. "We need to clean up, doll."

"I would so gladly get up," you began, sighing warily, "only if you didn't fuck me numb and raw."

"Don't complain," Eddie said, getting himself up, and easily dragged you up off the bed, over his shoulder. "We are getting cleaned up, and then find something to do after."

"Like what?" You wondered, being placed on top of his bathroom sink as he started up a warm bath. "You're not worried Brandon might say something?"

Eddie shrugged. "Not really, no."

"Why not?" You asked. "He has all the privileges and status, you don't."

"Are we really discussing this again?" Eddie asked, moving back over to you while the water ran. "I'm going to be fine. Just let me take care of you, doll."

Your gaze softened as you could see pure admiration and care in his eyes for you. You nodded, chewing onto your lower lip. He pinched your chin, giving your nose a sweet peck, and walked back to the bath to stop the water.

Eddie helped you into the bath, setting you down into it, and the water soaked your body. You moaned to the feeling of it and relaxed into it.

"Feel good?" Eddie smiled, sitting in front of you, and you hummed in response.

You brought your legs up to your chest, hugging them, and rested your cheek on it, looking at Eddie with a small smile playing on your lips.

He noticed. "Yes, sweetheart?"

"Nothin'. Just love you, Eds," you said. You had told each other 'I love you' on many occasions, but this time, it had a different meaning behind it. "Always have, always will."

"I love you too, sweet girl," Eddie responded, bringing himself closer to you, and kissed your forehead before pressing his against yours. "Always have, always will."

[minus-plus-zer0]

The Bakusquad Gaming Group - Ch. 1 - Introduction

| Masterlist | The Bakusquad Gaming Group Masterlist | | Next | ♡ Genre: Fluff, little crack ♡ Pairing: Gamer!Bakugou x Gamer!Reader ♡ Tags: Crossover (MHA x multiple franchises), gaming AU, Quirkless AU, aged up ♡ Summary: You're a pink and girly Let's Player who recently rose to fame. Eventually, your brand grows enough to attract the attention of the (in)famous Bakusquad. Their leader, Bakugou Katsuki, has especially taken a liking to you. This story follows your daily lives together as part of the Bakusquad.

You made waves in the gaming community as an up and coming Let's Player. Your pink and cutesy aesthetic could only be matched by the cozy games you played, with the occasional Dark Souls and DOOM Eternal mixed in.

Your following grew over time but you needed to network to continue your brand growth. Although your channel currently rode high on your DOOM Eternal Let's Plays, you noticed that a popular gaming group called the "Bakusquad" made themselves known by playing Animal Crossing, and you wanted in.

You actually recognized their leader, Bakugou Katsuki (aka his username "Dynamight"), as somebody who attended your old university. But you two never interacted and you never saw him in-person. He wasn't the type of guy who would collaborate with anyone, and even his own group had a hard time getting a hold of him. This could be his and your chance to break further into the multiplayer scene.

But how would you contact him? Emailing him felt too formal for a guy who regularly shirked formalities, and he blocked whoever slid into his DM's, plus he wasn't exactly friendly in-person on the off-chance you ever got to see him face-to-face.

But after watching some of his videos, you knew the best way to get his attention was through force.

You publicly challenged him on social media to a 1v1 fight in an old fighting game that you secretly knew the ins and outs of. You purposefully chose this one since it didn't look like anything you, a girly gamer, would be interested in. You tagged him and then you called upon your followers to get his attention, but it didn't take long before he was sliding into your DMs, mad as all hell.

"What the fuck was that?" was his first text. "You seriously challenging me?"

You didn't reply. You just screenshotted his DM, posted it onto social media, and tagged him again.

Your only words in your post were, "I'm dead serious. <3"

"Oh it is on." That was Bakugou's last DM to you.

Even though it wasn't his idea, Bakugou personally led the organization of the event from here on out. He shot you multiple curt texts of the time of the event, the rules, and instructions on the technical aspects of getting you both into an online call. He even gave you his phone number so that you could communicate faster. Now that caught you off-guard.

While you rested in the privacy of your own bedroom, you dialed his number. You felt the intense urge to tease him for even giving you his contact info. Before he could get a word in, you were already on his ass.

"Do you give everybody your phone number?" you asked.

"Huh? What, hell no! This is an important event as part of both our channels so I had to--"

"You sound so much stuffier in real life, oh my gosh."

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING FLUFFY?"

"...I said stuffy, Bakugou."

"WHATEVER OKAY! That's not the freaking point! I just wanted to make sure your online connection was good enough for this old as fuck game. Why did you pick this shit anyways?!"

You could just imagine him in his house, getting all angry over a phone call. You found it highly amusing, mainly because you knew it wasn't that serious.

"It's a childhood favorite of mine," you pouted, crossing your legs on the bed. "It's very near and dear to my heart. You don't like it?"

He sighed. "If you're so fucking dead set on it, then I'm not exactly gonna back down now, am I? I just wanted to make sure this all works perfectly."

"It'll be fiiiiine, Bakugou." You hugged a video game plushie from your bed real tight. "Gee, I didn't realize you cared so much."

"It's my job! Of course I give a shit. I'll make sure this event doesn't flop 'cause of this damn fossil of a game."

"It's not gonna flop!"

Then day of the event came soon, and both of your fanbases were pretty hyped. The game itself wasn't the only interesting part. No, people were more interested in your clashing personalities.

Since you arrived on the gaming scene, people had jokingly made edits comparing your content to what "Dynamight" had to offer. Your brands were like night and day in difference. They knew from your first post tagging Bakugou that your ensuing interactions were going to be... intriguing, to say the least.

The stream started, with two of the Bakusquad members Kaminari Denki (aka "Chargebolt") and Jirou Kyoka (aka "Earphone Jack") helping with the technical side of things, as well as moderation of your chats. Kaminari oversaw Bakugou's chat, while Jirou oversaw yours. Needless to say, this caused numerous arguments between Bakugou and Kaminari. At least you and Jirou got along well enough despite your difference in aesthetics and Jirou's frustrations with the technical issues.

The first match would be starting soon. For the first three rounds, your arena would be a barren field with a galaxy backdrop. Bakugou specifically chose the plainest arena to best show off your skills and nothing else. You and Bakugou were on an online call together, streamed live to both of your audiences.

"You fucking ready for this, princess?" he asked.

"Only if you're ready for me, prince."

You saw Bakugou smirk wider at your comment through his rarely used onscreen camera. It made you feel in some way you couldn't describe.

Your character was a real firecracker on the field, despite their delicate and sweet-looking appearance. You caught Bakugou's fire-based barbarian character off-guard several times, punishing him every time he thought he could attack you recklessly.

Bakugou let out a stream of expletives, with many new swear words being created on the spot. He caught you laughing and he said, "Don't laugh at me, dammit! I'm not fucking done!"

He attacked viciously but he also learned not to throw his character around willy-nilly. Still, he wasn't a match for you and he couldn't get enough hits in before you threw him off the stage entirely. He tried to leap back up to grab the stage's ledge, but you spiked him straight down. His character died from falling offscreen.

Both your fanbases were going nuts at Bakugou's amateur playstyle. This was the first time he'd been taken off-guard in a fighting game. And it was worse knowing that you were beating him down like a professional MMA fighter beats down a sickly old grandpa on his deathbed. Bakugou was beyond livid, but instead of his earlier rampant boisterous rage, he was now silent and focused and seething.

"Somebody's a little pissed," you crooned into your microphone, your hands gripping your controller as you awaited his character to respawn. "Oh come on, Bakugou, it's not that serious..."

"You won't be saying that when I beat you," he said.

The second round was much worse for you. Bakugou grew much more defensive, and your offensive game was not nearly good enough to avoid retaliatory punishment from his character. You kicked him, he countered you and punched back, sending you flying off the stage to the point where you couldn't leap high enough to reach the arena. Your character fell to their death, somewhere into the beautiful galaxy backdrop.

Bakugou shot a stupidly handsome self-satisfied grin at his camera, and you knew for a fact that it was meant for you.

You sent him a well-trained, super sweet pageant smile that told him, "You are so fucking dead I swear to fucking god once I am done here your character will regret the day he was ever fucking born." Hopefully he got the message.

This was your last round of your first match, and there was no chance in hell you were going to throw the fight away that easily. You glanced at Bakugou's screen to gauge his reaction but he was glancing away from his game, and you wondered if he was looking at you.

The final round started and your characters traded blows like old archnemeses. Your character dashed quick as lightning, but you couldn't get any clean hits on Bakugou's character at all. Bakugou's character hit way, way harder and you struggled to remain on stage every time he sent you flying.

You had to admit, you were impressed. He was literally beating you at your own game. Still, you had dealt enough damage to his character little-by-little that you could tell he was getting nervous.

His barbarian character punched yours so hard he sent you flying, again. You were floating back towards the stage while he awaited you at the ledge.

"Almost fucking done here," he said, his voice almost a growl.

"You gotta tone down that ego of yours," you said, with a smile.

His character swiped at yours but you countered hard, your pink magic shooting him right backwards. Then, your character grabbed him, threw him over the ledge, and kicked him straight into the offscreen abyss.

You shrieked and cheered, bursting into a little happy dance. The chat was going wild seeing Dynamight perform poorly in a fighting game, for the first time. You looked at Bakugou's screen and he wasn't even mad. His back was slumped against his chair and his hand stroked his face, obscuring his true expression. But he was staring at your character's victory animation onscreen very seriously, like he couldn't believe it.

"Holy crap!" Kaminari's voice chimed into the call. "What a match! That's a great way to introduce yourself to someone! I can't believe you two have never collaborated before, we really gotta do this again sometimes because I have never, and I mean never, seen somebody kick Bakugou's ass like that."

"Shut it, Dunce Face."

"Aw come on! The night's still young! How about we play a few more rounds?"

Your eyes flickered to Bakugou's screen, then to your camera. "One more round, Bakugou?"

Bakugou exhaled through his nose. Then, he addressed his camera, his face morphing into a deadly smirk.

"This stream isn't ending until I beat you."

The stream didn't end for hours.

Bakugou had basically challenged you on your home turf, which was the biggest mistake of his life. You won most of the matches, and although Bakugou did win some, he could only go home happy if he won all of them. And as an unofficial referee, Kaminari would only consider it Bakugou's win if Bakugou won at least a majority of the matches, but Bakugou couldn't manage that either.

You had so much fun that night. You not only fought Bakugou but you also occasionally let Jirou and Kaminari get in on the matches. Other Bakusquad members also poked their head into the streams and joined in at certain points. Even though you had never met these people before, it felt like you were already fast friends.

You already felt incredibly comfortable around Bakugou, maybe even more so than the others. Once the stream ended, the rest of the Bakusquad congratulated you on the good stream but said their quick goodbyes as it was getting late. However, Bakugou stayed up and switched you two to a facetime video call through your computers.

Your heart raced upon seeing him but your face didn't give away any fear. This was very sudden, but you didn't mind witnessing what Bakugou was like in private. A strange feeling bubbled up within you. Meanwhile, Bakugou slumped back in his chair, his head propped up by one fist as he took your appearance in.

"So?" you said, looking playful and coy. "Guess it's not that bad of a game after all. Your viewers were higher with me around."

"Don't get cocky," he said. "Yours were higher than I've ever seen on your channel too."

"My channel?" You spun lightly left and right on your gaming chair. "I didn't realize you were a fan."

Bakugou lips turned up somewhat. "It's obvious that I'd fucking watch your videos before I collaborated with you. Duh. But... I've actually been watching your shit for a while now."

You knew that anybody who gamed with you would likely watch your content, so this wasn't surprising. But for some reason, hearing Bakugou say it put you on the spot, unlike how you indifferent you felt with past gaming partners. Bakugou could've watched any of your videos, even the cringy anime dating sims you played two weeks ago. At least you never played anything inappropriate on your channel...

"So you are a fan," you said, cheekily.

"So fucking what." He looked so irritated by your comment, but you only found his pissy face to be cute. "Yes, I'm a fucking fan. I've been a fan since you fucking started. Happy?"

"Wait, really?" You stopped spinning in your gaming chair. He looked like he regretted saying those words. "Oh my gosh, I would've never guessed if you hadn't told me! Do you put on my videos just to hear my voice? Do you buy all my merch? Do you want some of my gamer girl bath water--"

"Will you stop that?!" His face was a furious shade of red. You wanted to screenshot it so bad but he'd catch you red-handed. "I just said I'm a fucking fan, I didn't say I was delusional."

"You didn't need to," you said with a smile. You pointed at his face on the screen. "It's written all over."

"WHAT?!"

You burst into laughter. He could only stare dumbfounded at his monitor. He grumbled about how you were oh so impossible to deal with, but that didn't wipe the smile off your face.

"Really though, I'm glad..." you said, as your giggles faded away. "I'm always grateful for my fans, Bakubestie."

"Oh you've got nicknames for me now?"

"You're the one that called me 'princess'."

"You don't need to comment on everything I do, alright?" His face was burning brighter again. "Enough about me and all my supposed funny flaws you wanna point out. I wanna talk about you. You a fan of me or what?"

He tried to look cool while saying that. But by the way he leaned on his desk, closer to your screen, you could tell he was really interested in your answer. You backed away from your desk a bit, because his close presence embarrassed you.

"Of course I'm a fan," you said. "Who wouldn't be a fan of 'Dynamight'?"

His face cracked a handsome and cocky grin. "'Course you are." His voice possibly lowered an octave when saying that. "Since you're such a big fan of me, and I'm such a big fan of you, how about we partner up more often?"

He looked confident, but you could see his heart beating fast through his tight shirt.

That made you more confident in turn.

"Yes please, Dynamight."

[chuuyasheaven]

“—Tamin’ bad girls !!”

“—Wait, you actually talked to him, Akutagawa Ryunosuke, like that? What did you think would happen? It’s Akutagawa, he doesn’t like being portrayed as ‘weak’, don’t worry tho, he’ll make sure to fuck into your head !!”

Tags: rough! Akutagawa Ryunosuke / afab! Reader, she/they prns, bratty! Reader, Brat taming, usage of rashoumon, bondage kink, degrading kink, orgasm denial, hate sex?, semi public, ooc! Aku, slight teasing, might contain grammar errors, cringe, RUSHED, etc.

Notes: First post for my kinktober event, I’m writing this on the 15th of September rn, hope y’all enjoy!!

How stupid could you be? Talking back to Akutagawa Ryunosuke, in front of others? You’re only asking for punishment. He's your supervisor!! So why did you do that in public? Sure, he has been ordering you around lately, telling you to do better, which made you mad enough to tell him to stop being such an asshole. But seriously, you let him have a piece of your mind.

Akutagawa won’t take it, no, he won’t. He has to teach you a lesson about not doing this again, the way you said it with a lot of attitude enraged him even more. This rage, the rage which make him pound into you even rougher than before. Right now, it all was way too good, the way rashoumon held you you in place so you wouldn’t squirm around. You could tell you made him mad, or he wouldn’t be thrusting into you this hard. .

Holding onto him with your life as he fucked you harshly in a dark alleyway, he grunts as he degrades you for your earlier behavior. “Such a fucking slut.”, he muttered under his breath, you felt yourself get hotter at him calling you that. “You like that, don't you? That's all you are anyway, can't do anything right except being a dirty slut.”, you bit your lip at this remark, your quiet whimpers getting louder as you feel your release closer.

You wanted to grab his hair but you couldn't since rashoumon was holding your hands above you. The only thing that was left for you to do was just moaning, trying to not be too loud, but Akutagawa was making it very difficult. “W–what if anyone sees us—?”, you asked him, he only chuckled quickly and answered. “Why do you care? Don't want them to know what a whore you are?”, at this point, you were a mess. You could tell that your orgasm would be washing over you in a few seconds until Akutagawa just stopped thrusting, ruining it.

“W–why did you—”, you whined before Akutagawa interrupted you. “I still didn't get an apology from you.”, he seriously ruined your sweet release just because of an apology for earlier? “Fine, i–i’m sorry.”, you said quickly, which wasn't formal enough for him. “You can do way better than this, if you won't then you won't cum.”, Akutagawa threatened you, you took a deep breath before continuing. “I–i’m sorry for calling you an asshole, Aku. . I didn't mean to.”, such a sincere apology from a brat, something he loved to hear.

“Wasn’t too hard was it? Anyway, let's finish this, shall we?”

I SWEAR THE NEXT ONES WILL BE BETTER I JUST RUSHED IT?!?

SMALL TAGLIST:

@crystalice09 , @medusalovessnakes , @miloofc !!!

[eldritch-spouse]

Was reading through the Berle tag, and was hit with this random brain worm-

Imagine you're visiting the Glutton ring of hell -either as a tourist or simply visiting some friends who live within that circle- and, as a treat, you drop into Berle's ice cream parlor. A nice sweet and cooling slice of heaven to be found amongst the smoldering heat of hell. Of course you've heard of the place before. With it being so famous, a damn-near requirement to stop by whenever you're in Glutton. You've heard of the complex and wide range of flavors that are served there. Some flavors you wouldn't even have come close to considering possible ice cream flavors. Some of them honestly sound downright repulsive, but you have learned not to judge. Let others live their happiness, and focus on living your own.

Okay, so maybe you had alternative motives when you made a detour on your way to whatever place you're staying at, to step into Berle's highly air-conditioned shop. You were on a mission. A rather childish and, to others, pointless one. But to you, it was of high importance, you just had to know! Did they sell your favorite ice cream flavor. It wasn't like you had odd tastes, you weren't searching for a thanksgiving dinner flavored scoop of creamy goodness, but for whatever reason, you just could never seem to find a place that sold your favored flavor. Anytime you'd go to a grocery store, or any other ice cream shop, it'd be the first thing you'd search out. Always feeling disappointed and a bit let down when your hopeful searches turned up empty. At this point, you'd marry someone in order to satiate your cravings. And you say so, more so to yourself than anyone else, as you looked over the offered flavors for that day.

You don't think anyone had heard you, and even if they did, you didn't think much of it. Didn't think anyone would care. How wrong you were. How unaware and cutely ignorant you were of the future you had unknowingly spoken into existence. Even if you didn't truly mean it. You were just making a joke about how much you wanted to indulge in your sought after treat again. The demon behind the counter, who had found his eyes stuck to you since you had entered his shop, and was watching you with sickly sweet hunger as you scanned over his products, had heard you loud and clear.

If he doesn't have what you're looking for, if you just give him a bit he promises you he can cook it up for you! While he's doing that, you can pick out your guys rings. You can propose to him once you get back.

((Also, I don't know if you do anons, but if you do can I either be Isopod anon or 🧠 anon?)

[I don't really tag anons, but we have a few yes, I'll remember you.]

There's been a number of asks regarding Berle that sort of sound like "I'd only humor him if he had [X] flavor", which is selling yourself short, because if there's one location in the world where you're likely to find the most niche flavors of ice cream, it would be Gluttony, especially Berle's Sorbet place.

You're even more cooked in this scenario because, the way you worded it almost makes it sound like a deal proposition, and the prince is going to swoop in immediately. He accepts your deal, formalizes it in a manner much too quick for you to realize, and by fulfilling the request you set forth, he in turn expects you to remain true to your end of the deal.

This is something he'll continue to hold over your head. You made a deal, you made an open deal, and he fulfilled it. Don't be silly, there are consequences for your actions!

So anyway, time to cook in advance for the ceremony, would you like to help Berle? He's going to make a wedding themed slime cream for the occasion and he'd like his bride's input.

[samiiy20]

✩ 𝗞𝗶𝗺 𝗛𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗷𝗼𝗼𝗻𝗴 (𝐟𝐭. 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝗦𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗵𝘄𝗮) ✩

𝖯𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: Kim Hongjoong x fem! reader x Ex bf! Park Seonghwa 𝗚𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗿𝗲: Smut 𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 3.1k 𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: Threesome, unprotected sex (don't do it), jealousy, oral sex, eating cum, creampies. (I apologize if I forgot something) 𝗦𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: Hongjoong had a little surprise for you to enjoy the night, but you never expected it to include your ex-boyfriend.

N/A: First, I'm glad that this writing is the first fic of the year. Second, I can't stop watching the MV that these two released, so boom! I didn't sleep for two days thinking about this jsjsjs but I hope you like it <3

masterlist II tag list

This content NOT is for minors!!!

This is merely entertainment, this does not represent any real person.

It is forbidden to copy or translate my work.

English NO is my first language.

You had been dating Hongjoong for a while now, but it wasn't anything formal, you liked hanging out with him when you had nothing to do, he fulfilled your every whim without asking for anything in return, and the sex with him was fantastic. You felt comfortable without commitments, anyway you weren't looking for something serious with someone after the damage your ex left behind.

"You are busy? Are you busy?" You sighed looking at the mess in the kitchen and grabbed your phone before answering Hongjoong.

“No, actually I'm finishing eating but…”

“It tasted horrible?” A moan confirming his suspicions caused his laughter to be heard over the speaker. “Do you want to come?”

“I don't know, I have some things to do tomorrow and…”

“Please” think for a moment and before saying anything continue “Maybe we can enjoy dessert.”

You laughed a little because you knew what it meant but you were tired, maybe you deserved a break.

“But come for me.”

"Deal "

After almost an hour (enough time to clean up the mess in the kitchen and put on anything) Hongjoong was outside leaning against his car smoking a cigarette. When you approached him he smiled giving you a quick look up and down and you couldn't help but feel nervous.

“As beautiful as ever,” you rolled your eyes, snatching the cigarette from his fingers before taking a drag and smiling.

" you're a liar"

“Give me a kiss” You hit him in the chest and he took your hand, cornering you between the car and his body “just one.”

“It's never just one with you” he raised his shoulders smiling and you sighed before looking around and joining your lips in a quick kiss, but Hongjoong slid his hands along your waist until he reached your butt and squeezed it “Stop it, someone might see us.”

Hongjoong laughed and opened the door for you, he waited for you to get in before doing the same and starting the car. The whole way he was giving you looks and letting his hand rest on your thigh, caressing your skin a little, but it only made your body start to light a small flame inside you.

“Do you remember what you said the other day?”

"No"

“When were we in bed?”

“Joong says a lot of things and I forget half of them” actually you did remember, although you didn't know what he was referring to, you had said a couple of frustrated fantasies, but you were pretending not to, it was very embarrassing to accept it now that you were sane.

“Well, I have a surprise for you.”

“You know I don't like surprises,” you replied, crossing your arms when he turned off the car engine. Hongjoong turned to look at you and took your face in his hands.

“You might like this one” his words made you nervous but at the same time curiosity took over you.

Hongjoong was a person who liked to experiment, he was not closed to any idea and had even fulfilled a couple of your fantasies, he had taught you a few things that you didn't know you might like and you were eager to know what he had in store for you.

When they arrived at the apartment it seemed strange to you that the lights were on, but you didn't say anything and before you could question it he covered your eyes with his hands and placed a kiss on your neck.

“Don't do that… I can't see” you tried to remove his hands but his breath made your skin crawl, leaving you still.

“Shhh… let me guide you precious”

Your senses were turned off when he placed his lips on your neck and his tongue ran a path to your shoulder while he made you walk slowly forward. You let out a low moan as you felt his teeth dig into your skin.

"Are you ready?"

“No,” Hongjoong’s laughter echoed in your head and nerves tickled your entire body. Hongjoong's hands slowly discovered your eyes and as your vision adapted to the light again you could notice a strange figure in the place.

When you were finally able to see what it was, you froze. Of all the things you thought Hongjoong had prepared, you never imagined seeing your ex-boyfriend sitting calmly with a smile on his face. No, this had to be a fucking joke. You rubbed your eyes thinking you were hallucinating but he was still there.

“Seonghwa?”

“Hi doll,” your ex responded, widening his smile even more.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

"What is this? they know each other?" Hongjoong asked confused.

“No” you responded. “Yes” Seonghwa said at the same time.

You turned around heading towards the door but Hongjoong stood in your way.

“This was your surprise?” you asked angrily

“I don't know what you're talking about, I didn't even know they knew each other, I don't know who he is… well yes but…”

“Ahhh of all the people in the world you chose him?”

“I'm still here,” Seonghwa said, approaching you and you avoided seeing him.

“You…” you turned to where he was and put a finger on his chest, “how did you get here? Do you still want to continue ruining my life? "Isn't what you did enough for you?"

“I'm sorry, okay? I told you it was a misunderstanding but you never let me explain it.”

“Enough,” Hongjoong exclaimed, full of the whole situation. “I don't know what matters you have between you, but I think we should calm down.”

It took Hongjoong a while to convince you to stay and talk calmly while they clarified the situation, but although you finally gave in, you were uneasy with Seonghwa's presence. The three of them sat at the table and Hongjoong made them talk in turns. You sighed, threatening your ex with your eyes and told him your story.

“We were a couple a while ago…”

“Six months,” Seonghwa interrupted you.

“Anyway, we broke up, but that part wasn't very nice so I made my life and then I met you and blah blah blah, things happened and now I'm here, in front of this idiot.”

“Anything to say Seonghwa?” Your ex opened his mouth but denied before looking at you.

“How did you meet?”

“That doesn't matter to you,” you responded aggressively as you crossed your legs and looked away. “How did you two meet?”

"What difference does it make?"

“Stop it, you're both tiring me out.” Hongjoong dropped into the chair and sighed, looking at them both. He had no idea what trouble he'd gotten himself into just for wanting to have a little fun with his favorite people, but here he was having to put up with their complaints. “I met Seonghwa like I did with you okay?” at the bar, it was actually a week after you, you both vented about your problems but I never imagined they would talk about each other, I didn't even know they knew each other, I thought it was a good idea to bring him because I thought he was your type and you would enjoy more, but ahhhh I never imagined this”

You felt a little bad for Hongjoong, he just wanted to fulfill one more of your fantasies and ended up getting into a weird mess. You caressed his hand and without looking at your ex you stood up and hugged him from behind.

"It's not your fault"

“Yeah, whatever, don't feel bad,” Seonghwa said to help you, “she wouldn't be able to handle it anyway.”

You threatened Seonghwa with your look, you didn't want to talk to him but her words hurt your ego, you had been with both men before, you knew them better than anyone and you dared to say that you couldn't handle them? Who did he think he was?

"What do you mean?" The voice is more aggressive than you intended but Seonghwa's smile only made it harder for you to contain yourself “I can't handle you? I’ll show you, idiot.”

Without paying attention to your ex you climbed onto Hongjoong's lap and he held your hips before you could continue.

“You don't have to do it if you don't want to.”

“I want” You responded before bringing his lips together as you pulled him into the most passionate kiss you had given him before, mixing your tongues and letting his teeth collide. Your hands passed over his chest and slowly went down to slide over the delicate shirt he was wearing.

"Is that all you have?" You rolled your eyes, separating yourself from Hongjoong and wiggling your hips in his lap while locking your gaze with Seonghwa who had stood near him. You grabbed him by the edge of his pants and made him take another step. Before he continued speaking, you raised your hand to reach the collar of his jacket and bring it closer to your mouth.

“You don't know when to shut up, right?” You felt Seonghwa's labored breathing on your lips and you noticed his dilated pupils. “Accept that you still like me, idiot.”

"And what?"

Your memories came back for a split second and you remembered the reason why you decided to break up with him, you were still angry for seeing him kiss your best friend but you had to accept that you still had feelings for him, the years at his side were something that You would never forget, how could you forget all that love, desire and passion that you felt every time you saw him. And now that they were face to face those feelings blossomed again.

“I hate you” you whispered before pulling him into your mouth and delving into his lips, they were just like you remembered them, sweet and fluffy.

Hongjoong had gotten lost in the feeling of your hips grinding against his clothed cock that he almost forgot about you. He dug into the crook of your neck leaving a red mark on his making you moan into Seonghwa's mouth causing your fingers to tangle through his long hair.

He broke away from the kiss, seeing your eyes full of lust when Hongjoong removed your shirt, freeing your breasts. “Come here,” he snatched you from the hungry mouth of his friend, tasting your skin.

Hongjoong laughed when he saw them and to think that a few minutes ago they didn't even want to see each other. He sighed, feeling the pressure in his pants as he watched them devour each other's mouths and their hands touching each other's bodies, peeling off the layers of clothing they were wearing until they were almost naked.

“Let's go to the room.”

When they finally closed the doors, you threw yourself at Hongjoong, also helping him to free himself from his clothes, leaving kisses along his neck and slowly going down his abdomen to the edge of his boxers, you pushed him on the bed and he smiled, settling in the center when he saw Seonghwa approaches from behind.

You settled between Hongjoong's legs, leaving his erection free of him as you gave Seonghwa a look as you spread your legs and raised your butt. You turned your attention to Hongjoong's dripping cock and ran your tongue over the tip of it before taking it into your mouth and hearing a muffled moan leave his chest.

You were so focused on sucking Hongjoong's cock that you almost forgot about your ex, but when he came up behind you and ran his fingers through your wet panties you closed your eyes before sucking his cock into your mouth again.

Seonghwa was so eager to have you again that he could barely keep his composure, even worse if you gave him a full view of your ass and wet pussy. It took strength from the depths of his being not to collapse at that moment and he slid your panties down to see your pussy, he moaned when he saw it up close again, he couldn't wait to taste the sweet nectar that he hadn't tasted in months.

He pressed his lips to your pussy and held your breath when you felt his tongue. Hongjoong shivered from the vibrations in your throat and didn't want you to stop so he grabbed a handful of your hair and pushed your head back onto his cock.

"I thought you could handle this" you gave yourself some time to breathe but when Seonghwa put two fingers in your pussy you could only moan in Hongjoong's face "are you enjoying it?"

You nodded, letting yourself be carried away by the pleasure that Seonghwa's fingers gave you while you continued moving his tongue in circles over your clit.

You approach Hongjoong's lips to stifle your moans but he grabs your hair, guiding you back to where you were.

Your movements were slow, you could feel your legs starting to shake and you couldn't continue holding the knot in your stomach. Seonghwa knew you were close to him so he continued pumping his fingers putting in a third while he licked your pussy.

Tears began to build up in your eyes but Hongjoong continued to push your head down when he felt a shock on his cock. You heard Seonghwa laugh behind you as he decided he wouldn't let you finish but you didn't have time to think about that as you felt Hongjoong's load in your throat and you tasted it.

Your tears spilled down your face when you could breathe and Hongjoong caressed your face, drying them.

"Poor dear, did you want to cum?" More tears fell from your eyes.

"yes…yes"

Seonghwa felt a pang in his chest when he saw his friend caress your hair and lay you down on the bed. He couldn't help but beat her to the spot and smile at her trying to apologize, but in reality he was jealous.

"Understand me, I haven't had it in a long time."

Hongjoong raised his hands and nodded, hiding the small anger that formed in his chest, yet he settled behind you, placing his chest on your back and gave Seonghwa a challenging look.

"All yours" he said mockingly knowing it was a lie.

Seonghwa rolled his eyes but when he saw your naked body, jealousy took a backseat, now what he wanted was to feel you again and hear you moan his name.

He positioned himself between your legs and lined up his cock at your entrance watching your tearful face.

"You're very bad hwa" Seonghwa swallowed hard as he heard you tell him how before and he let go of the reins, letting yourself be carried away by you.

He sank inside and pressed you against Hongjoong's chest, you had forgotten how big he was but he made you moan feeling so full.

"I missed you, doll," he whispered to you as you got used to him again, tears still adorning your face and he wiped them away before bringing his lips together, tasting you on them.

“I…” your words stuck in your throat as he gave the first push “I didn't miss you”

"I don't need you to tell me, your body speaks for itself"

Seonghwa started to move his hips and you bit your lips when you felt Hongjoong's hands play with your nipples as he planted wet kisses along your neck, but Seonghwa bit your shoulder on the other side.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself be carried away by all the sensations in your body, the boys' lips on your neck, Hongjoong's hands as they went down to your clit and Seonghwa's hips colliding with yours, your breathing uneven, your legs shaking, everything. It was too much that you couldn't take it anymore.

Without warning you released yourself onto Seonghwa's cock.

"Hwa…Fuck"

"Yes honey keeps saying my fucking name"

The overstimulation was killing you, you wanted to say something but you didn't know what, you just wanted it to never stop. You put your head on Hongjoong's shoulders trying to breathe but Seonghwa's thrusts were killing you.

"Come on beautiful, just a little more" his words did not comfort you but you nodded, letting him also move his hips behind you.

You moaned louder as you felt his fingers on your clit, you felt the tears in your eyes and you looked at Seonghwa when he approached your lips and you accepted it by placing your hands on his shoulders and marking his skin.

Seonghwa was close and you could feel his cock throbbing inside you, he sank in a few more times before releasing his load and laying down on your chest, but Hongjoong continued to touch your sensitive clit making you wrap your legs around your ex's hips as you ran your nails down his back and let your head rest on Hongjoong's shoulder to kiss him when your second orgasm swept over you.

The three of you stood in silence recovering from the heat of the moment, you didn't know what had just happened but you didn't care, you had enjoyed it more than you would like to admit.

“Are you okay, beautiful?” You nodded without speaking and let go of Seonghwa's body, turning your back to him. With the little strength you had left, you climbed onto Hongjoong's cock and moved your hips slowly. “Aren't you tired?”

"i... want more"

Hongjoong lifted your hips and started pounding your pussy hard as he met Seonghwa's gaze. It was more than evident that he was resentful but it wasn't his problem for being an idiot, now he would have to see how he made you moan his name.

You wouldn't last long, but you tried hard to hold on to the knot in your stomach but it was getting stronger and your body was getting weaker with each stroke of Hongjoong's cock.

“Joong… I'm close.”

You lost track of reality when you felt the liquid from your body running down your thighs, you closed your eyes letting Hongjoong use your body for his pleasure and once he also freed himself he carefully laid you down on the bed and held your breath as you see how the mixture of the three ran through your used pussy.

Seonghwa licked his lips and without anyone telling him, he tasted the mixture, making your body react, but before he could continue, Hongjoong stopped him.

“Stop it, she's tired.” Seonghwa looked at him and suppressed the strange urge he had to push him and smiled. “You better go.”

"No"

They were both surprised but without saying anything Seonghwa lay down next to you and caressed your hair.

"You still miss me"

“Shut up idiot” you said smiling and extending your hand for Hongjoong to join in, he sighed before doing so and placing his hand on your waist “Thanks for the surprise Joong”

“Yeah, whatever, I hope you enjoyed it” You laughed a little before snuggling between them and taking a long rest.

[starsandsugars]

Burning Desire

PAIRINGS: shiv roy/f!reader

SUMMARY: you had hoped that working on a work assignment with shiv might make her open up to you. Instead it lead to you 'opening up' in an entirely different way. (NSFW • MINORS DNI)

TAGS: coworkers hooking up, degredation, praise, office crushes, cheating (if you squint)

NOTES: hi guys :) this is my first fic I'm posting on tumblr and my first piece of smut so please be nice and I hope y'all like it!

-

Your heart hammered in your chest as you felt Shiv's hand press firmer against your mouth, forcing you to keep quiet even as she continued to pump her fingers into you at that ruthless pace. Each stroke of her fingertips hit that perfect spot inside you, drawing out animalistic sounds that were just barely concealed by her. Every little touch made you feel electric, every inch of your body practically vibrating from the pleasure.

As your head tilted back and knocked back against the door, you thank whatever God there was for putting you in this situation.

You had seen Shioban Roy countless times around the Waystar offices, normally in some meeting or getting into an argument with her siblings that half the staff had to witness.

You knew very little about her initially other than what was public knowledge. You had no reason to pay her any mind, but you always felt your eyes drawn to her anyway.

At first you reasoned it was because of the effortless way she commanded the room or the fact that, as Gerri's second in command, she was kind of your bosses boss but as your curiosity began to change shape it became harder and harder to deny.

You couldn't tear your eyes away from her if she walked by your desk, the simple twirl of her hips enough to take your breath away. When she leaned over her desk to talk to you, you just about lost your ability to think clearly. And the one time you saw her kiss her husband in the lobby it filled you with a feeling you refuse to admit even to yourself.

It was ridiculous, and beyond irresponsible.

For one, she was your boss. If that wasn't enough she was married - to the head of news at the company that you work for no less!

You did your best to convince yourself that it was just an office crush. She was a beautiful woman with a touch of power that turned you on more than you wanted to admit. That was surely all it was.

Or it least, that was all it had been, until you got assigned to work on an agreement that Shiv, as President of Operations was hwading. t really wasn't an overly complicated assignment, which is why Gerri handed it over to you, and you expected to be done with it in a couple of days.

As it turns out, that was far from the case. The other company refused to sign, and what could have been a couple meetings turned into long days and nights cooped up in Shiv's office hunched over paperwork.

Your silly crush hadn't gotten away, and had gotten even harder to manage. Now you were close enough to smell her expensive perfume, close enough to hear the edge her voice took when she was telling you to do something.

You tried to push it down, smother it, but the flame only grew brighter with each day you spent together.

Finally, after a million emails and a formally worded threat of litigation, the smaller tech company signed the contract and became a part of the growing monolith that was Waystar Royco.

You had never seen Shiv happier, practically beaming as she went immediately to gloat to her father. You took your things and disappeared back to your own office, expecting that would be the end of your Shiv Roy saga.

You were a little sad to see it end, but you're sure your vibrator will thank you for a break now that you won't have to constantly be so close to her so you prepare yourself to just move on.

You should have known things with her could never be that simple.

Just as you began to catch up with your other work you've been neglecting to help her she pops her head into your office.

"Come out with me to celebrate our win." She says without so much as a 'hello', "Drinks on me."

It wasn't a request so much as a command, but you found yourself agreeing anyway.

With that she turned on her heels, leaving you with a fluttering feeling in your stomach.

You were distracted the rest of the day wondering what she was up to. Did she really just want to celebrate? What was her game here? You knew the Roys well enough to know they never did anything without an agenda.

By the time she came to get you from your office at the end of the day you were all but convinced she was going to fire you. You went with her anyway, heart thumping in your chest as the two of you sat quietly in her private car.

She had her driver take you two to a high end bar that seemed to be pretending to be a dive bar. It was busy, with warm bodies and loud music everywhere. It could almost pass for a normal bar if it weren't for the suits all around and the fact that one of their drinks rang up for twice as much as your hourly wage.

She (thankfully) bought you your drink and turned to gave you fully once you had both settled into a leather booth.

It started off perfectly innocently, talking about you success with the deal and your future at Waystar. Your anxiety began to melt as you realized she really wasn't firing you. In fact, she seemed like she genuinely wanted to talk to you.

You talked your way through another 2 drinks each, both of you slowly opening up to each other. You told her about how much Gerri gets on your case and she tells you about her open relationship with Tom.

She drops it into the conversation casually but the way she blinks her eyes gives her away. She knows exactly what she's doing.

"I mean, I don't control what he does. Why would I let him control me?" She leans a little closer, and the finger tracing the rim of her drink turned into a heavy hand on your thigh.

Her voice lowers as she continues, sending shivers down your spine.

"I sleep with whoever I want. Whenever I want."

Your voice choked up a little as you responded, voice sticking in your throat from the sheer shock of it all.

"Yeah, me too." You manage, drawing a laugh from the redhead.

"Oh yeah?" She teases, eyes twinkling as she whispers into your ear.

"Why don't you come show me?"

Before you can even begin to think better of it her ingers splayed are across your back and she's guiding you to the back of the bar.

She opens a door knowingly and you realize she had planned this. If she had to have an angle, you were glad it was this one.

Once the two of you were inside she pressed you back against the door. The cold metal pulled a shiver from you, but the second her lips were on yours it's like every other sensation melted away. She kissed you like she wanted to consume you and you would be more than happy to let her.

As if reading your thoughts she bit your lip, pulling a little yelp out of her. She grinned and moved her lips against your neck as her hands slid up under your dress. You preened under her touch, breathy moans escaping you despite yourself.

It took only a moment for your panties to be tugged down your legs but she paused before actually touching you. You tired rolling your hips but all she did was brush your clit all too softly.

"Shiv, please." You begged, tapping into the want for submission she so clearly had in her normal life. The tendency clearly extends to sex because as soon as you give her what she wants she finally pushed her fingers into you.

She was clearly skilled with her fingers and she worked you up in no time. You moaned loudly, and she gripped your chin to warn you.

"Be. Quiet."

When you couldn't comply she shoved her hand over your mouth, gripping your cheeks to keep it in place. When you whimpered enough to be heard through her attempted gag she crowded you further against the wall.

"Shut up."

She spoke into your ear, equal parts threat and promise.

"Unless you want us to get caught. Maybe you'd like that. Maybe you want everyone to see what you let me do to you in this bathroom."

She strikes just the right spot inside of you and your thighs begin to quake, fingers clutching desperately to her shoulders. You know you should try to maintain some level of basic self respect but when she looks at you with those hungry eyes you just can't find it in yourself to care.

"God you're such a slut." She says, sounding pleasantly surprised. The words send sparks down your spine and you feel yourself tumble over the edge.

Your mind is hazy and your legs shake so badly she has to use her thigh to prop you up.

Once you had calmed down enough to do something that resembled normal breathing she let you go, smiling like she's just won some kind of contest.

"Good girl. I knew you had it in you." She says, and it's a struggle not to let the praise go straight to your head.

She starts to check her reflection in the mirror over the sink as you stay against the door, trying to make your brain work properly again.

Eventually you come to your senses enough to straighten up and try to appear half as nonchalant as she is.

You approach her, leaning against the sink as you watch her fix her hair.

"You're not going to let me return the favor?" You ask with a tone od faux innocence, trying to talk as if it were about a business deal instead of the most mind blowing orgasm of your life.

"Oh trust me, you're going to." She grins at you in the mirror. "But we're not doing this again in the bathroom. We're going back to my apartment."

She strides right out of the bathroom, knowing you were going to follow her without you having to say a word.

She's not wrong, and you chase after her before you even have the time to realize your panties are still discarded on the bathroom floor.

[notiddygothgf]

3. Obsessed

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ Aki, you smooth bastard. ❞

★ c.w.: nothing :) (more content warnings and tags)

★ a/n: accidentally posted chap 4 before chap 3 oopsies!! omg so like this one lowkey seems like filler but I PROMISE ITS NECESSARY. im building the tension. i hope you all like obsessive aki as much as i love him. teehee. like comment and talk to me! id love to hear ur thoughts x

★ w.c.;3.2k

shameless ; chapter index

YOU HELD YOUR PHONE TO YOUR EAR later in the evening, listening to your husband talk about his day. His voice was a comforting, familiar anchor, but tonight, it struggled to pull you from the storm raging in your mind the way it usually did.

"And then I told them they couldn't just ignore the data. They finally agreed to reassess the project," he was saying, his tone tinged with satisfaction. "That's how my day was."

"That's great," you replied absentmindedly, your fingers hovering over your phone's keyboard.

As he continued speaking, you opened a new message thread. The name "Aki Hayakawa" stared back at you, the cursor blinking in anticipation. You started typing slowly, uncertainly:

Aki, I'm sorry for running out on you like that. It wasn't |

You paused, backspaced, and tried again:

Captain Hayakawa, I apologize for how I acted tonight. It was unprofessional. |

No, that was too formal. You sighed, deleting the message once more.

"Are you still there?" your husband asked, snapping you out of your reverie.

"Yeah, I'm here," you said quickly. "Just... distracted. Sorry."

"What are you up to?" he asked, his tone lightening. "You sound busy."

"I'm just sending a text to my friend, Himeno," you lied smoothly, hoping the guilt didn't seep into your voice.

"You're so sweet," he said warmly. "Always thinking of others."

Always thinking of other men, apparently, you mean? 

You forced a smile, even though he couldn't see it. "Yeah, I guess so."

Your thumb hovered over the screen again. This time, you typed:

Can we talk?

You hesitated for a moment, then pressed delete before you could change your mind. You had done enough damage tonight. The best thing you could do was just ignore him for the remainder of your stay in Tokyo. It would be over before you knew it.

"Anyway," your husband continued, oblivious to your internal struggle (as he typically was), "So my coworker came up to me and asked if I would go out for drinks with him tonight."

"Sounds great," you said automatically, your mind still on the message you had just deleted. You glanced out the window at the city rushing by – the midnight was blue, almost as blue as his eyes.

You hoped that, somehow, everything would make sense in the morning.

.

Your first informal mission took place at the art museum. There had been complaints of Devil-sightings there. It wasn't anything particularly alarming or dangerous, but you had been sent to check it out (and kill it).

With nothing but the quiet sound of your shoes clicking against the old wooden floorboards to accompany you, you made your rounds through the second floor. Your Public Safety uniform pulled very few strange looks here where everybody else was also done up in black-tie attire. There was an art showing tonight.

You put an 'x' over the words "Second floor". No Art-devil spotted there. Two more to go.

Stopping in front of a small painting, you took a moment to admire the artistry. You didn't mind doing the scut work while Makima was understaffed – more gruesome positions existed, surely. This was most certainly not the worst way you could think to spend your first day back on the job.

The painting was a masterful symphony of oil paints – shades of pink and green and blue forming the prettiest little petals. It depicted a serene field of wildflowers and nothing else. A singular tree near the right side of the painting, a clear blue sky on the top of it.

One day I'll buy a painting like that, you thought to yourself. Not that it had much of a place in your stale, modern-style home in the Japanese countryside. You always wanted a house with color – one with wooden seats and tables and wallpaper and a happy family – even if it aged poorly. There was something homely about flowers and colors. Something that the black-white-and-grey color scheme of your contemporary home lacked.

It was such a shame, too. You told your husband about these wishes long before you married him and, yet, he insisted upon having a home that would look "sleek" and "modern". Had it not been for his vision of what your home should look like, you would have taken the painting home with you.

Briefly, the image of a small, gold-framed painting of a flower field hung up in your cold, cool-toned dining room crossed your mind. It wouldn't work.

Then again, perhaps the painting could serve as a metaphor for your feelings?

You looked away from it, and went back to scanning the room for any sight of a Devil. You didn't find one.

What you did find, however, was the one person you didn't want to see today. A certain young captain stood with his arms crossed behind his back, inspecting a larger painting only a few yards away from you.

Then, as if the situation couldn't get any worse, he turned to look at you.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

You ducked over, shielding your face from his gaze. It was too late, though – you heard his telltale footsteps coming your way and you knew he'd sniffed you out.

His voice was a sickening croon behind you, "Enjoying the show?"

Okay. It would appear that neither of you wanted to address the elephant in the room (being last night, that is).

You couldn't stop the little flutter your heart did when it heard his voice.

"Yes, thank you," You snapped back a little quicker than you anticipated. "The paintings are beautiful."

"They are, aren't they?" He reiterated. Something told you he wasn't only speaking about the paintings. "You like that one?"

"I do," You answered. This whole conversation was just a whole lot more awkward than you could bear today. "It's peaceful, I think. Pretty."

You shouldn't be talking to him. You really shouldn't be talking to him – not after whatever the fuck had happened between the two of you at the party.

To your surprise, Aki didn't toy with you any longer than that. He walked away – you had only heard him leave, after all, as you hadn't made any effort to look him in the eye. How could you? You had seen that face of his far too many times in your dreams.

"Keep up the good work," He said over his shoulder.

You turned to look only when you were certain he was a respectable distance away from you. Then, looking at the back of his Public Safety suit jacket, you thought, How bizarre.

.

You were making your rounds at the grocery store two days later, grabbing some last minute food and snacks because you truly hadn't anticipated your stay to be so long. A small slip of paper clutched in one hand and a pen in the other, you crossed "bread" off the list.

"Okay," You muttered to yourself, glancing around for your next stop. "Pads, produce, chips," Deciding that you couldn't live off of the tiny little hotel sample containers in your shower, you quickly scribbled down 'Shampoo/Conditioner'.

Then you continued on your merry little way, pushing the cart forward and exploring the rest of the grocery store. Aisle 14's sign was done in a shade of lilac, and read 'Feminine Hygiene, Baby, Sexual Wellness'. Oddly enough, you had to pass through the baby section before you could get to the feminine hygiene products. You tried not to make eye contact with any diaper boxes, as they only served to remind you of the fact that – despite being married – you were the only one out of all of your friends who hadn't settled down and started a family by now.

Soon, you thought. But, then, a vision of a screaming baby throwing up in your arms flashed through your mind, an image of your husband asking you what was for dinner after the both of you had come home from work, and it didn't feel so right.

"Let's see," you hummed, tracing your finger over a box of day pads. You figured that it wouldn't hurt to be prepared, even if you weren't supposed to get your period for at least another two weeks.

So you grabbed a multipack – day pads, liners, and night pads – and you tossed them into the cart. Then, you checked "pads" off of your list.

At the end of the aisle, there were walls and walls full of condom boxes – some were even flavored – and lubricants.

Won't be needing those any time soon, you mused. You and your husband hadn't exactly been very... active recently. With work and cleaning and everything else to be done around the house, neither of you had the energy.

Well, okay. You didn't have the energy. He had made a great many fruitless attempts. It was difficult to want to have sex with a man who acted like an insolent child when you told him that, yes, it was his house too, and he could do some dishes once in a while.

You were happy, though. You were just... going through a rough patch was all.

"I'm married!" 

The words echoed in the back of your mind. You saw a vision of him there, too – not your husband – taking a tentative step towards you while you backed away from him.

"You weren't acting like it," The words replayed, clear as day, "I can't forget about tonight. I know you felt it, too."

You gazed blankly at the condom boxes on the shelves. He had been right. You weren't acting like a married woman, even now. Because when you thought of someone pressing kisses to your neck and slipping the clothes off of you, it wasn't your husband you envisioned. It was him.

You were fucked. Truly, royally fucked.

That being said, you walked right on past the wall of condoms. You were many things – a liar, Devil Hunter – but you would not break your marriage vows. It was your fault that you had been sucked into a wedding so early in your life. You had to see it through.

You had to do right by your husband.

The next aisle you hit up was the produce section in search of soup vegetables.

Some carrots would be nice, you thought. Oh, and some potatoes. Maybe even some angus beef? 

You rolled up to the vegetables. They looked so tasty, all bundled together, being misted gently with water. You pulled a few carrots off the display and popped them into a plastic produce bag.

Leeks, you thought, pursing your lips and glancing around. They were two shelves over to your right.

And you'll never guess what else was only two shelves over, so tall he had to bend over to reach the legumes, sporting a loose black tee shirt and some black sweatpants.

Captain Hayakawa. Your stomach did a backflip and a death drop and your heart seemed to beat a little faster. What the fuck.

You could tell yourself whatever you wanted, but the way your body reacted to his presence gave your true feelings away. He had you wrapped around his finger.

Still, you hadn't seen him in casual clothes before. He looked much cuter that way, you thought. You could see his arms much more clearly now, the ridges and hills of his chiseled biceps, his strong forearms.

And he was buying groceries. Could he get any better?

You couldn't recall the last time your husband had even cooked some food, let alone go buy produce.

Maybe he was grocery shopping for someone else? Maybe he had a woman at home, to whom he was only bringing these groceries. It seemed far more likely that he had just come here to cook for himself.

What am I thinking? He was bad for you. Real bad. You had no business thinking these things about another man.

So, you did what any other respectable, married woman would have done and left the produce section before he could notice you. Before you could even begin to question whether or not this meeting was really pure coincidence.

You could always pick your veggies up somewhere else.

.

"Hello, front desk, how can I assist you?"

You sighed a breath of relief, "Hey. Do you think you could have room service send up an extra towel?" You glanced down at the shattered bottle of wine you had picked up from the grocery store. You had used one of the hotel towels to mop it up. It was only after the fact, of course, that you realized you only had one towel left.

"Of course," The friendly woman on the phone answered, "Can I have a room number?"

"1409," You answered.

A few keyboard clacks later, and she said, "You have a package at the front desk. Would you like us to send that up, too?"

A package? You thought. You didn't recall ordering anything. Still, you figured it was most likely something Public Safety had sent you (and, least likely, a bouquet of flowers from your husband).

"Okay, yeah, sure," You hummed. "Send that up, too, thanks."

The phone call ended a moment later, after the two of you had exchanged goodbye. Within five minutes, there was a knock at your door.

"Room service," A feminine voice grunted.

"Coming!" You answered. Tip-toeing around the mess of broken glass you'd left bundled up inside of a red-stained white towel, you jogged to the door to answer it.

A short, brown-haired old lady in a maid's uniform was holding a freshly folded towel in one hand, and a rectangular brown box in the other. You took both from her gratefully, ducking your head and muttering a quick 'Thank you' before closing the door.

You set the towel down on the bed. Then you flopped down next to it, eyeing the brown box up precariously. It had "FRAGILE: HANDLE WITH CARE" printed all over it.

I wonder what it is.

Of course, you had left your letter openers and box-cutters at home, so you made do with a butter knife that the hotel had so graciously provided to you. You took out a few layers of packing foam and tissue paper before the item was finally revealed to you.

It was a small, gold framed painting. One with pink and blue wildflowers in a green, open field. One with a clear sky and a tree. The one from the gallery.

"How the fuck...?" You asked, turning the thing over in your hands, as if to make sure that your eyes hadn't deceived you. (They hadn't.)

It was something so strange, so oddly specific, that you could only attribute it to one individual.

"The paintings are beautiful."

"They are, aren't they?" Captain Hayakawa reiterated. Something told you he wasn't only speaking about the paintings. "You like that one?"

"I do," You answered. "It's peaceful, I think. Pretty."

You admired the beautiful painting beneath the warm hotel light. Then, with a giddy sigh, you flopped onto your back, clutching it to your chest.

Aki, you smooth bastard. You thought. Fair play.

.

The conference room buzzed with anticipation as agents filed in, each clad in the standard uniform of crisp suits and ties.

You sat in the front row, your hands folded neatly in your lap, trying to maintain a professional demeanor.

The atmosphere was thick with tension and a sense of gravity, appropriate for a meeting about the Gun Devil—a formidable enemy everyone in the room was acutely aware of.

Miss Makima stood at the front, her posture perfect, her pink hair immaculately styled. She exuded an aura of authority and control that was almost frightening, which was normal for her. A large board behind her displayed a complex array of photographs, maps, and written leads, all connected by a web of strings and arrows. It was a visual representation of the intelligence gathered on the Gun Devil, a chilling reminder of the stakes at play.

As Makima began to speak, detailing the latest developments and potential leads, you tried to focus on her words. She spoke with a calm, measured cadence, explaining the connections and evidence they had so far. But as the minutes passed, you felt a warmth spreading across the back of your neck, an unsettling sensation that made you shift in your seat.

Curious, you turned your head slightly, just enough to glance over your shoulder. There he was—Captain Hayakawa—propped up against the wall at the back of the room, his gaze locked onto you with a disconcerting intensity. His blue eyes were sharp, unwavering, and you felt a jolt of electricity shoot down your spine. The way he looked at you, it was as if he could see right through the layers of professional decorum you had carefully constructed.

A rush of heat flooded your face, and you quickly turned back around, your pulse quickening.

Behave, you reminded yourself sternly. But it was hard to focus, hard to even think straight, with his gaze burning into you so desperately like that – like you were the only person in the room, like he would freeze time if he could just to ravage you right then and there.

You pressed your legs together, a subconscious reaction to the sheer force of his attention.

He was going to be the death of you if you didn't get the hell out of Tokyo soon.

Makima continued her presentation, moving to a new section of the board, but her words became a distant murmur in your ears. All you could think about was the weight of Aki's stare, the way it made you feel exposed and vulnerable. You couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind. He wasn't shy, not in the slightest—his gaze was bold, almost challenging, as if daring you to meet his eyes again.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to look back at the board. The images and notes blurred together as you struggled to refocus. You knew you should be paying attention—this information was critical, after all—but Aki's presence was an insistent distraction. You could feel his eyes on you, a constant, burning sensation that refused to let up.

When the meeting finally concluded, you realized with a sinking feeling that you had retained almost nothing from the entire seminar. You gathered your things, avoiding eye contact with everyone as you hurried out of the room. 

ITS SO SHORT ik ik. to make up for it, read chapter 4 and pretend i didnt accidentally post that one first LMFAOAOOA... see yall soon!! x

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

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wanna join the taglist? | shameless ; chapter index

[writtenjewels]

School Dance

Salim didn't think he would ever attend an American high school dance, but when the school called him asking for chaperons, he volunteered. Zain was not happy about it—he griped that it was too embarrassing, his friends would make fun of him, how could he enjoy himself knowing his father was right there? It made Salim waver, but then he met the other parents who assured him their teenagers had the same complaints.

[You may be embarrassed,] Salim told Zain, [but you won't be the only one.]

He at least did his son the favor of letting Zain come to the dance separately. Salim needed to arrive early anyway to get instructions from the principal. He was given a short tour of the gymnasium, the hallways, the bathrooms, and the closest exits. He would mostly stay in the gym, but every ten minutes or so he would need to do a lap and make sure the students were all where they should be.

Once the students entered the gym, the night fell into a rhythm. Salim decided to do his lap right away so Zain could enjoy his friends without worrying about his father watching his every move. He came back and made his way over to the refreshment table. A few of the students were hovering, along with one of the chaperons. It was a man maybe ten years younger than Salim, wearing a simple outfit of jeans and a T-shirt. Salim knew this wasn't a formal dance, but the casual ensemble still looked a little strange. Or maybe his own collared shirt and slacks was a bit too much.

“Hey,” the other man greeted him with a wave. He had brown hair, though most of it was tucked under a baseball hat. If he wasn't wearing the chaperon tag on his shirt, Salim would think he had accidentally wandered in here. He had a nice smile, though, and Salim smiled back.

“Hello,” he returned. His eyes dropped to the lines of soda cans and cups. There were also wrapped packages of trail mix, crackers, and other small snacks.

“It's easier than a fuckin' punch bowl,” the other man said. Salim lifted his gaze. “When I was their age,” the man continued, gesturing to indicate the kids, “somebody always spiked the fuckin' punch.”

“I see.” Salim probably should have been shocked that the man was using such coarse language within earshot of teenagers, but he found it strangely endearing. Maybe it was the accent. Salim had a soft spot for that Southern drawl that made him think of cowboy movies. “My name is Salim,” he introduced.

“Jason,” the other man returned, reaching to shake his hand. “I'm the school counselor.”

“Nice to meet you.” He took in the other man's appearance. Given his occupation, maybe the casual look was a deliberate choice. It was certainly disarming, and made him look more approachable than the other adults in the room.

“Which one's yours?” Jason asked.

“Oh, I shouldn't say. He didn't want me to be here.”

“Fair enough.” Jason stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels. One of the students approached the table, glanced nervously between the adults, and grabbed a bag of trail mix. “So,” Jason spoke up when the kid left, “can I get you a drink?”

“Sure. Thank you. Something without caffeine, please?” Jason nodded and handed over a can, taking one for himself. The two sipped their drinks, Salim's eyes drifting from his new acquaintance to the dance floor. He couldn't see Zain, which would at least please his son. “I've never been to one of these before,” he remarked, turning back to Jason.

“They didn't have dances at your high school?” Jason asked with raised eyebrows. Salim wasn't sure how to explain his schooling experience, so he just shrugged. Jason set his soda can down on the table and grabbed Salim's hand. “C'mon.”

“What?”

“We're dancing,” Jason told him, taking his soda and sitting it beside Jason's. “The snacks can mind themselves for five minutes.”

Salim was being pulled onto the dance floor before he could form a response. He caught Jason's eye, and the younger man gave him a reassuring smile. He took Salim's hands and directed them to Jason's shoulders. His own hands did the same. Salim caught the black ink of a tattoo on Jason's left arm.

“The students must love that,” he remarked, nodding to the ink.

“Yep,” Jason confirmed. “The tattoo's what got me the job.” Salim stared at him for a moment. Then his eyes widened and he let out a breathless laugh.

“Ah. You were making a joke.” Jason confirmed with another smile, and Salim smiled back at him. His heart gave a pleasant little flutter in his chest. “How long have you worked at the school?” he wondered.

“Few years. I like it, helped a lot of kids. Can't go into specifics, but a lot of them just need someone to be in their corner.”

“It's admirable work. Right now, I'm sort of freelance. I do translation work for museums and a few universities. It isn't the most exciting thing.”

“I donno,” Jason argued. “I've seen some of the shit the kids here scribble in their textbooks. That can get pretty exciting.” That made Salim laugh. “Not everyone's got the patience for that,” Jason went on. “I think it's cool.”

“Thank you.”

“Guess I've always had a thing for nerds,” Jason said. Heat flashed through Salim's face. Did he just flirt with me? The song ended and Jason's hands dropped away from Salim's shoulders. “I gotta do a lap, check the bathrooms,” Jason said.

“Okay,” Salim nodded. He watched the younger man go, still a little dazed. Maybe Jason was just joking, like he was about his tattoo. Salim headed back to the table and retrieved his drink. He took slow sips, hoping Jason would come back.

He was understanding the appeal of these dances.

[wish-i-were-heather]

TOO SWEET ⤵ NASH HAWTHORNE X READER

ABOUT: 3129 words, no use of y/n

STORY: you meet back up with your childhood best friend, and he gets a bit out of hand.

WARNINGS: drunkess/alcohol? i guess that's it

TAGS: @littlemissmentallyunstable @gretag13 @lanterns-and-daydreams @whatsamongus @alwaysthefangirl @zuzanna-jadw1ga @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @low-caloriesmonsterultra @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @jimcarreyfann42 @maybxlle @xoxo-vee @elysianwayy77 @ravishinglyliving @- this is just everyone who wanted to be tagged for grayson cuz i wasn't sure, pls lmk if u do/don't wanna be tagged for other characters!!

inspired by a post by @jkriordanverse <33

A/N: SORRY THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO POST WHILE I WAS GONE BUT THE QUEUE DIDN'T WORK >:( anyway so like i said i saw that post about drunk nash singing hozier and i was like omg yes. this gets kinda long i could've split it into two but i didn't so here we are

You were no stranger to formal events. Your family wasn’t necessarily rich, but you were well off. Somewhat higher status. So it wasn’t unusual for you to be at events that required you to dress up a bit. Put on a dress, do a bit more makeup, put on your good earrings. 

But this one was different.

It was a big charity event run by one of the biggest family names in the country, but the dress code was less suit and tie, high heels and pearl necklaces. For some reason, they had decided to play into the fact that they were in Texas. A western themed event. And for some reason you decided to go, despite having no experience with that style.

You thought it would be simple enough. Find a cute but not too fancy dress and a simple pair of boots to match. The dress you were able to find in your closet- a white one that fell loosely to just about the length of your knees, square neck, and thin straps. Nothing too revealing nor too elegant. The event, unlike most, was about simplicity. 

It was the boots that you had trouble with. 

You’d never worn a pair of cowboy boots before. Silly, supposing you lived in Texas, but you had just never been part of the crowd that wore that regularly. Because you only planned on wearing them to the event, you just ordered a pair online because it didn’t matter too much to you.

Only when they arrived did you realize that they were a bit too big. Nothing crazy, it wasn’t like wearing five sizes too big, more like half. And that half a size still made a difference. 

You stepped out of your car in front of the venue. It was some sort of ranch that clearly hadn’t been used as a proper ranch in who knew how long. The large barn doors were open, revealing all the partygoers and tables and drinks and lights and everything inside. 

Sure enough, everyone was dressed similar to you. Not too formal. Nothing like you were used to wearing. You felt out of place, even though every other person there looked the same. 

With a sigh, you made your way to the entrance. You weren’t exactly sure what to expect there. The only reason you came was because it was a Hawthorne event. You knew that name; you’d known that name your whole life. Your family had been close with the Hawthornes. You grew up with the four boys. Well, mostly with Nash. You were closer to his age than Grayson, Xander, or Jameson. 

But as you grew older, you drifted apart. Adulting happened, you got busy, and eventually you lost contact with Nash. You still had his number in your phone- well, at least his old one from when you were fifteen. Odds were he probably had a new one, and you weren’t willing to text and find out.

So maybe some part of you deep down was hoping to find him again here. It was probably hopeless. Such a big event, so many people, the chances of finding Nash Hawthorne were quite low. 

Yet here you were. 

You kept walking, making your way through the entrance. You were just on time, not too early or too late, but there were already plenty of people walking around. You didn’t recognize any of them. 

There were sounds of glasses clinking, country music in the background, and countless voices conversing as the evening began to unfold. You walked through the crowd, awkwardly adjusting the strap of your dress.

There was nothing wrong with it, but you couldn’t help but feel self conscious, even when everyone was just as casual.

Suddenly, your foot caught on an uneven plank of wood, the oversized shoe not helping one bit. With a startled yelp, you tripped forward. Instinctively, your arms moved out to catch yourself. But there was no need, because before you could properly fall, strong arms caught you, helping you balance again. 

“Woah there,” a familiar voice chuckled. And as you looked up, you found yourself looking into the amused eyes of Nash Westbrook Hawthorne. 

Your eyes widened when you realized who had caught your fall, your face suddenly heating up for no particular reason. 

“Nash?” You breathed, hardly able to believe it. 

He laughed, his grin widening in return when he recognized you too. “Well I’ll be damned. It’s been a long time.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

Nash took a step back once you were standing again. “You look great, by the way. I don’t think I’ve seen you in this type of dress in… well, ever. The boots too, they look like they suit you.” You could tell he was teasing.

“Am I that obvious?” You asked, tucking your hair behind your ear nervously. “They’re too big, but I figured what harm will it do, right? Oh,” you added. “And, thank you. You look… great, too.” 

Why were you being so awkward? It’s just Nash.

Just Nash.

He laughed again, a deep, warm sound that you remembered well. “Thanks, darlin’. Here, why don’t we go sit down? Catch up somewhere quieter.”

You agreed, and the two of you navigate your way through the crowd of people. He was guiding you subtly, his hand gently resting on the small of your back. As you walked, you couldn’t help but notice how at ease he seemed, like he belonged there.

Which made sense, it was his family’s event. And Nash of all the Hawthornes was the one who was most comfortable in those Western-themed situations. 

Most likely to win a rodeo. 

You and his brothers had voted him that when you were kids. 

Nash led you to a quieter spot in the back, as promised. There were some hay bales set up as makeshift seats. Sure, there were chairs that you could’ve snagged from an empty table, but where was the fun in that? 

“Have a seat,” he told you. “I’ll get us some drinks.” And before you could respond, Nash was off. You watched as he walked away, finding yourself glad that he was turned away so he couldn’t see you staring. 

His hair was about the same length and style from when you were younger- you supposed he found what he liked and stuck to it. But that didn’t matter because he was wearing a cowboy hat. Maybe it was for the occasion, but you knew him, and odds were he was wearing it because that was just what he liked. 

But, of course, it had still been almost ten years. He had most definitely grown. Taller, visibly stronger, and his voice had gotten deeper. 

You weren’t complaining. 

Nash returned, and you were snapped out of your thoughts. “So apparently there’s no alcohol. Avery’s decision, not mine. Hope you like iced tea.”

“Thanks.” You took the cup from him as he sat down beside you, but realized he’d only grabbed one. “Why didn’t you get one for yourself?”

Nash shrugged. “I’m not a fan of tea. Even without sugar or nothing, it’s a bit too sweet.”

“Oh,” you nodded. Then you thought about what he’d said earlier. “So, Avery…?”

“Oh, yeah, you don’t know her, do you? I mean, I’m gonna assume that you’ve seen everything on the news and such, but you’ve never met her.” 

You had definitely been paying attention to any news involving the Hawthornes ever since you stopped talking to him. Maybe paying a little more attention than you wanted to admit. “Is she nice? Good to Jameson?” “Oh yeah,” he nodded. “Very good to Jamie. They’re good for each other.” 

“Good, good.”

Why were you acting so weird?

Just Nash. 

You took a sip of the iced tea, the cold calming your nerves a bit. Nash leaned back on the hay bale, as if picking up on your nervousness and trying to make himself more open. 

“So,” he began. “How has life been? Last I heard you were looking at colleges out of state?” 

You nodded, suddenly feeling more comfortable when you knew what to say. “Yeah. I went up to Massachusetts.” “Really. Did you go to school there?”

“Yeah. Harvard? Have you heard of it?” You joked. “I don’t know, it’s not very well known.”

Nash laughed with you. “Harvard. You’re kidding.”

“What, you jealous?” Already back into your old ways, teasing him.

“No. That’s where Grayson’s going.”

Your eyes widened. “What? That’s crazy. On the off chance I run into him, I’ll tell him you say hi.”

Your conversation continued, wandering from how your lives have been to his thoughts on the whole inheritance drama when it first happened. Then somehow you started talking about the fact that they now had a dog named Tiramisu? 

Oh, Xander named it. 

That made more sense. 

But as the night progressed, you still found yourself being awkward. The conversation would come to a slow point and Nash would be the one to bring something up and start talking again, not you. Why was it suddenly so hard to talk to him? Sure, maybe you hadn’t spoken in years now, but he was so easy to talk to that it felt like no time at all.  

“You know,” he mentioned eventually. “I’ve missed this. Missed you, missed us. We should try to get together sometime, while you’re here.”

There was something about the way he said us.

“Yeah, that’d be fun. I’m here for the next week, so we could-”

“After the party?”

His offer caught you off guard. You wanted to spend time with Nash, of course, but you hadn’t expected him to want to get together so soon. You weren’t against it, though.

“Oh yeah, after this works.” You took a sip from the drink to try to look more natural; it looked even more forced. “Where do you want to go?”

Nash grinned. 

“Can you sing?”

A question like that was never good coming from a Hawthorne. 

~~

The rest of the event had gone by quickly. Avery had eventually gone up and said a few words, and afterwards Nash introduced you to her. She was nice, as you thought she’d be. 

You also said hello to Xander and Jameson again, which was fun. Grayson, of course, was still at Harvard. Xander made a pinky promise to you that he’d “make sure Gray finds you on campus or else.”

Then, you and Nash were off.

He’d only told you once you’d left where you were going: a karaoke bar. 

You were not a singer, by any means or definition of the word, but Nash reassured you that it was just the two of you for fun. Neither of you were expected to be professionals, so that gave you some bit of closure and got you a little more excited.

You were sure that there had to be some sort of karaoke room in the Hawthorne House, but that’s not where you went. Nash took the two of you to a karaoke bar. But when you arrived, there was an individual room reserved for you. 

Even if it was taking away from the social bar aspect of the karaoke bar, you appreciated not having to sing poorly in front of strangers.

“So,” Nash began once you were settled in. “Have you got any songs to start with?”

You shrugged. “Do you know any Disney?”

He fully gasped. “Do I know Disney? Do I know Disney? Is my last name Hawthorne? Hell yeah I know Disney!”

Nash hadn’t been lying. Together, you sang a song from practically every Disney movie that existed. And as you sang, you realized you didn’t care what you sounded like. He made it so easy for you to let your guard down and relax and just have fun. 

Nash, on the other hand, you quickly realized he had a voice. Deep and controlled, like he knew what he was doing. The only cracks in his voice were because the note was either too high, or just the result of him drinking.

It was a karaoke bar, after all.

Maybe he was secretly a professional country singer in his free time, it’d been so long since you last spoke to him that you had no idea. 

After finishing Love Is an Open Door from Frozen, you both finally paused to catch your breath after nonstop singing. 

“Y’know,” Nash said, taking a sip from the drink he’d ordered- this time with alcohol. “Hans may have been an ass, but he’s a damn good singer.”

You chuckled. “Says you. You are surprisingly good at this.”

“Surprisingly? Ouch,” he said playfully. 

“Seriously though,” you continued. You both took a seat on the couch. “Do you sing often or is that just… a natural talent?”

Nash shrugged humble. “I don’t know. I will sometimes for fun.”

“What do you usually sing?”

He took a final sip from his drink, setting it back down with a loud clunk. “Let me show you.”

~~

Hozier. 

That’s who Nash liked to sing. 

You didn’t know what you were expecting. Maybe some sort of country artist, simply because of how he liked to dress and talk. Not Hozier. But, of course, you weren't complaining. Because those songs seemed to match his voice perfectly. And he sounded beautiful.

Nash had spent a good fifteen minutes singing, taking a drink between each song. Which, obviously, as alcohol does, seemed to have an effect on him. His words grew sloppier, attempts at dancing growing more wobbly.

After a dramatic singing of To Be Alone that felt more like a serenade by the way he looked at you during the chorus, you would’ve thought he was done. He looked pretty tired and out of it from the drinks, too. 

But then the next song auto played- Too Sweet, one of Hozier’s newest songs.

Nash Hawthorne, half drunk and easily excitable, practically screamed.

“I love this song!” He cried, running over to where you were seated and pulling you up to stand with him. You laughed and let him take you.

“You know, Nash, I think I’ve really only ever heard this on the radio-”

He cut you off by beginning to sing when the lyrics appeared on screen. You grabbed the second microphone that you’d set aside and followed along as best you could. It was a bit hard for you to focus, though, as Nash stumbled next to you and tried his best to keep both his feet and his voice steady. Though he tried his best, he was failing miserably.

It was hilarious.

“I think I’ll take my whiskey neat,” he sang, or more accurately, shouted. “My coffee black and my bed at three. You’re too sweet for me!”

When the song ended, he finally let himself sit down. He picked up his drink and had another sip, and you then took it from him.

“Hey!” He pouted. “I’m drinkin’ that. You can drink your own drink, don’t drink my drink.” 

How many times could he say ‘drink’ in a sentence?

“What?” You laughed.

“I mean-” hiccup. “I mean don't drink my drink, it’s mine.”

“I’m not drinking it, Nash. I promise,” you said, talking slowly the same way you would to a little kid. “You’ve just had too much. And we took your car, I don’t want to have to drive it for you…”

But it was a little too late for that, wasn’t it?

You took the free water bottle that’d come with the room off the side table and handed it to him instead. “There, drink that.”

Nash took the water and without hesitation opened it and chugged it, successfully spilling water all over himself. You didn’t even bother to clean it up, because he didn’t even bother to care that he was now soaked. 

“Okay,” you said, more to yourself than him. “We should probably get going.”

“One more song?” Nash asked, failing to balance his hat on his head and deciding to throw it across the room when it didn’t stay on.

“Fine. One more song.” 

Imagine your reaction when you recognized the intro to Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy.

~~

“I’m not five.”

“You sure are acting like it,” you told him. “Sit still and buckle yourself up or I’ll do it for you.”

Nash muttered something under his breath about you not being the boss of him, but he eventually buckled himself up in the passenger seat of his own car, and you got in the front. Nash wasn’t quite completely drunk, but obviously enough to not be himself, because now he was acting like a pouty little kid. 

Yeah, it would probably be best if you drove.

As you pulled out of the parking lot, Nash began typing away on his phone. You didn’t know what he was doing until you heard music begin; he’d bluetooth connected his phone to the car speakers, and was now blasting Take Me to Church. 

He sang along, a sound you assumed usually sounded angelic, but now his voice cracked at pretty much every single note. Things only got better worse when he rolled down the window and sang into the dark of the night. 

You reached over and dialed the volume down, just a bit. When the song ended, you finally took your chance to speak.

“You really like his music, don’t you?”

Nash nodded. “Mhm. He sounds like me.”

You chuckled and let the car fall to silence as you drove him home. 

“I missed you,” Nash suddenly blurted. 

“I missed you too,” you admitted honestly. “You’re a good singer.”

“You’re a good driver.”

“I’m only driving because you got drunk off your ass,” you reminded him, keeping your eyes on the road.

“Thank you for not crashing the car,” he said genuinely, like it was the most serious thank he could give you. “And driving me home.”

You sighed. “You’re welcome, Nash. Try to get some rest when you get home, okay? I’m sure you’ll feel shitty in the morning.”

“I’m gonna start now,” he said, earning another laugh from you. Nash slumped in his seat, and brought his hat down to cover his eyes. “Goodnight, darlin’. Don’t let the… Hozier bite.”

That last statement was so absurd that you couldn’t tell if you were laughing, coughing, or dying in response. 

You caught your breath, though still laughing quietly to yourself at what he’d said. 

“Goodnight Nash.”

You thought back to the times when you were younger, and the two of you would stay up late past when you were supposed to be asleep. Most of the time, the lack of sleep got to you and you’d both say the stupidest things. 

Maybe he wasn’t so different all these years later after all.

the writing above belongs to me. please do not copy, modify, repost on other sites or claim as your own. © 2024 wish-i-were-heather

[tsukimefuku]

❅ Sand and Snow | Chapter 3

ALL CHAPTERS HERE | PREVIOUS CHAPTER HERE.

In the city of Odate, Akita, there have been multiple deaths in the past few weeks. The first-grade sorcerer Nanami Kento is sent out to investigate the snowy city, not knowing that it would be his last mission as a Jujutsu High student.

OR

Why Nanami left Jujutsu High to become a 9/5 corporate slave.

Tags: Murder/mystery, canon typical violence, POV Nanami, Post Star-plasma Vessel Arc, Canon compliant, Angst but I'm not Gege

Here we go! First fight scene, and everyone's favorite white haired sorcerer arrives.

WC: 3.6K | on AO3 here.

This time, Nanami called Ijichi after reporting to principal Yaga. Ijichi picked up pretty fast, and had a worried tone to his voice.

"Y-Yes?"

"Ijichi, I have some things to ask. Firstly, do you have any new information about the Yamadas?"

Ijichi paused. "No... I have not. I mean, I don't." He sounded nervous.

"Is there anything wrong?" Nanami asked.

"No, just... h-haven't found anything yet. Nope. Nada."

He thought Ijichi's demeanor was out of sorts, but decided to not press the matter any further on the phone. Some things about this mission were shady, Ijichi must've had a reason to be acting like he was.

"Also, I need to have some samples examined. Is Ieiri available?"

"Samples? Of what?"

"Coagulated blood from the last corpse." Nanami answered.

Ijichi sounded like he fought back an urge to hurl and gagged a little. "I will ask her about it."

"Ok, do it now."

Nanami heard fast footsteps, a thump, another thump, Ijichi saying ouch and ruffling on the line. He sighed as he waited for Ijichi to solve his locomotion hardships on his way to Ieiri. Shoko picked up the phone and answered.

"Hey. What's up?"

"Ieiri, I need to have some coagulated blood samples examined. They contain a cursed type of venom. Normal methods were not able to determine its nature or origin."

"Tough luck, huh?" She responded. "Nanami, you're in Odate. Just the time it would take for that sample to get here... I don't think I can do anything to help you this time around, unfortunately."

He sighed. It was worth the shot, anyway. "What would you suggest?"

"This is something that has to be analyzed in loco and as soon as possible."

"I understand. Thank you." Nanami said as he hung up. He grabbed the phone number Shiori had given him earlier that day, and dialed it. She picked up.

"Hello, who is this?"

"It's Nanami. Are you occupied?"

"I'm not, actually. I'm just at home taking care of my plants. Why?"

"I need your help with something." He replied, hoping she wouldn't ask for further clarifications on the phone.

"Ok, I guess. You can come over. But please, knock on my door this time, stalker." She replied, before hanging up the phone.

Nanami sighed and started getting ready. As he thought about how much a job was worth if it meant getting accused of being a stalker, he did not notice his hotel room window was just barely open right before he went out.

***

As Nanami approached the house in the woods, it started to grow colder. This time around, the snow beneath his feet was considerably thicker, and the wind felt like razor blades slipping just above the skin. He hurried his pace, just so he wasn't in the cold for longer than necessary.

Getting to the front porch, he knocked, and Shiori answered.

"See? Much better than hiding in the bushes and getting jumped with a gun. Glad you knocked." She said, jokingly.

"I did. You instructed me to." Nanami replied in a monotone.

He really has absolutely no sense of humor, she thought, welcoming him. "I'm brewing some tea, if you're interested. Will help ease the cold off."

"Thank you. I accept it."

"You really do talk funny, huh?" Shiori remarked, smiling.

Nanami seemed puzzled. 

"Nevermind." She replied. For someone his age — clearly still a teenager —, Nanami sure talked in a very formal way. "Here, take it." She gave him a cup and got one for herself. She then poured the tea in both cups and sat on the table, inviting him to join her. He sat down and smelled the tea, it had the same strong sweet and flowery aroma.

"What is this?"

"Oka tea, one of Yamada's specialties." She answered. "It's a mix of herbs, flowers, and other dried ingredients. Some people still buy this concoction I make, I like to believe other Yamadas out there still make it for themselves, but my customer base has been growing thin. I almost can't afford the costs for keeping my greenhouse anymore." She seemed somewhere in between upset and resigned about the entire situation, adapting to another bad thing happening in her life.

Nanami sipped the tea. It was a perfect balance between sweet and acidic, but had no sugar or sweeteners added. It was impressive, actually. He looked at Shiori. "You still don't want to become a jujutsu sorcerer or an assistant for Jujutsu High? They pay well."

She scoffed, as if the idea itself was absurd. "There's more to life than money. I want to keep my family's legacy alive, even if it dies with me. Also, I have to wait for my brother's return."

"I see." He didn't quite know how exactly he felt about what she said. Never one to contemplate about the meaning of work, or purpose, for that matter, Nanami felt he had nothing to add to the conversation on this matter particularly.

"You said you needed help with something, didn't you?" She asked him.

"Yes." Nanami took out the scalpel enveloped in paper. "Do you have any reservations regarding blood?"

"Not really. My family would train us from a very young age in the tradition of healing with nature and those kinds of things." She shrugged. "I have helped my mother treat wounded people before."

"Fine." He unwrapped the paper and plastic, revealing a scalpel with a tip covered in blood. "I need your help taking a look at this blood sample. It has been infused with some type of cursed venom. I'd like to know if you know something about it." 

"I see. I mean, I don't see anything out of the ordinary. But I get what you mean." She scratched her head a little, staring at the scalpel, not knowing exactly how Nanami thought she could help. Understanding about poisonous plants was one thing, working with cursed venom-infused blood was another entirely.

"You can't see cursed energy traces?" Nanami grew increasingly skeptical at her ability to help him.

"See what?"

"Vestiges. Here, look closely. Focus. It is like seeing a cursed spirit, but fainter." 

She drew her face closer, and her eyes widened for a moment. "Oh, yes! I can see it! Some very small traces of cursed energy." Shiori reclined in her chair and laid a hand on her chin, while she evaluated some possibilities. "Look, I don't have a lab or anything here for analyzing whatever this is. I do, however, have some old books from my family that might help us determine the origin of this."

Better than nothing, Nanami thought.

She went upstairs, and he could hear sounds of things getting taken, dropped, twisted and thrown around, like Shiori was trying to remodel the house. At one point, it sounded like a large bookcase fell, followed by a scream and some cursing like shit and holy fuck. Shortly after, Shiori shouted, "I'm alright!".

He hadn't moved an inch, still sipping on his tea.

Shiori came down holding a very large — and apparently ancient — book. It had a very worn out brown leather cover, the binding seemed just about ready to give in to time and degradation. It also smelled funny. "Here, this might help us. Let's take a look."

She opened the book, and started flipping through the pages, until she got to a part that talked about poisons and different types of venom. "So... what do you want to know?"

"Is there any indication of a curse or shikigami that possesses venom?"

"Let me see." She put the book on her lap and started flipping through it. She paused for a moment, and then continued. "Well, there isn't anything about curses or shikigami. It has, however, some things about medicinal plants and such."

Shiori didn't raise her eyes to meet Nanami and stayed silent. He found that to be out of character. This would usually be the moment she'd make some unfunny or confusing remark. 

"Is there anything about any plants or herbs that can asphyxiate someone?"

"I don't need a book for that one." She closed the book. "There is the heartbreak grass." Shiori looked at him. "The most toxic varieties are spread throughout Asia. Do you think someone could infuse the extract with cursed energy?" She asked. "Why would somebody even bother to do so?"

"It avoids that a jujutsu sorcerer turns into a curse after their death." Nanami replied.

"I see. But were the victims even Jujutsu sorcerers?"

This still didn't explain the bite marks, though. 

Shiori looked through the window. "It's starting to get dark outside. I don't have much to eat here, since I'm the only one living in this house for the time being, but I might have some hibari senbei cookies, if you want to take them with you". 

Nanami remembered Gojo would be arriving at Odate tomorrow, and had a faint memory of him asking about cookies. He sighed, putting his fingers in between his eyes, and responded, "Thank you. I will be needing that."

"Needing?" she replied, a little confused, as she walked into the kitchen to grab the baked sweets. "What would you need cookies for? Do you have low blood sugar or something? Here." She came back and handed him a small paper bag with homemade cookies inside.

"Nothing. I apologize for inconveniencing you." He replied as he took the bag.

"Don't worry. I appreciate the company." She smiled. "Even if you're a stalker, company is company, am I right?" Shiori said mockingly.

"Please, stop saying that." Nanami answered, annoyed. She just chuckled.

***

Back at the hotel, Nanami greeted Yoko, who was just about to end her shift. She waved as he got closer.

"Hello, Mr. Kento! Can I help you with anything?"

"Actually, I have some questions about Yamada Shiro, if you have some time."

"Oh." She was completely caught off guard. "Of course, I think." How does he know his name? "What do you want to know?"

"What can you tell me about him?"

"Well, I have been best friends with his sister and him since middle school." She said, whispering. Probably so that her grandmother couldn't hear anything. "They were good kids. He had a thing about protecting weaker people, but every time he got in a fight, he'd be 10 times more hurt than the one he had beaten up." Yoko shrugged. "And she had something about not meddling in other people's businesses. She just wanted to protect him."

"I see. What about his departure some time ago?"

Yoko was taken aback. "How do you know that?"

Dammit.

"During my work here in Odate, I've met your friend, Shiori. She told me her brother left the city a while ago."

"Your work in Odate? What do you do?" She asked, and then pondered. "Oh, you've met Shiori then."

"I'm a private investigator." It was hard trying to keep track of all the versions of his story. This was starting to become tiring. "I'm here to investigate these deaths in Odate. After talking to you and some people, I decided to go to Yamada's house and learn more about them, just in case." He replied. "Yes, I've met your friend."

Yoko was at a loss for words, wondering if he was treating her best friend as a suspect of any sort. She needed to talk to Shiori as soon as possible, and know more about what this man standing in front of her had said to her. 

"Well, about Shiro... You probably heard it better from his sister. He left about a year ago to go looking for their parents, and grew increasingly distant, up until he simply stopped responding to our messages and calls to ask him how he was doing, around 3 months ago." Yoko thought that it would be fine telling him this, given that he probably already had that piece of information from Shiori. "Even though I wanted to call the police, Shiori asked me not to."

"I see." Nanami noticed her change in demeanor. He knew he wouldn't be getting very far questioning Yoko anymore. "Well, thank you for your time." He said, walking towards the elevator. When he got to his floor and started making his way to his room, he could hear someone shutting their window loudly. People lack basic cordiality with others, he thought to himself.

As Nanami entered his room, something felt off.

He looked around and nothing seemed actually out of place, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. As Nanami turned his back to the closet, for a split second, he felt someone lunging at him. Thanks to his reflexes, Nanami was able to throw himself in the window's direction before the culprit made any contact.

It was the man dressed in black.

Nanami grabbed his blunt sword from his back and advanced in his opponent's direction, instinctively ready to deal a 7:3 blow. However, he quickly realized it would be a bad idea, given that the preferable outcome here was capturing the curse user and taking him to Jujutsu High for questioning and, being the case, sentencing. Restricting his strength, Nanami dealt a measured blow to the man's stomach, which made him spit blood inside his mask.

What Nanami was not ready for was a shikigami appearing right in front of him. It was a floating four-eyed purple snake, with a menacing set of fangs. The snake instantly charged in his direction, quicker than he could deal another blow. He reinforced his arm with cursed energy before the snake could bite him.

The shikigami suddenly disappeared, and right behind it came a full-blown punch from the man that caught Nanami with his guard down. He could feel his nose cracking at that moment. Nanami was thrown against the wall behind him, breaking the mirror, while shattered glass fell all over him. As he tried to get up, the man opened the window, held his shikigami on one arm, and the floating monster helped him out.

Nanami then realized what was missing. His documents regarding the case from Jujutsu High, which were laid over the room's table.

He pulled the phone and called #903. The old lady picked up. He informed her his room had been invaded, and he got attacked.

***

"Hey, good morning. There's a pretty guy asking about you at the door."

"What?" Nanami had to take a few moments to get himself back to reality. 

"Yes. A pretty guy. He's asking for you. He's calling you Nanamin." Shiori responded. She said the word 'pretty' mockingly with a half smile on her face.

The night before became a haze. Old lady called Yoko, who then called Shiori, who then called Nanami. It was a full circle of what the hell was going on. While Nanami assessed the state of his wounds in the bathroom mirror, he told Shiori he would be looking for another hotel to stay for the time being.

"That's a terrible idea." She replied. "Look, there is something weird happening, and it might have something to do with my family. I saw the last victim's photo on the local news. That was my uncle whom I thought had left Odate years ago, Hiroshi."

He was silent, trying to figure out if his nose was broken or just very purple.

"We are already joining forces. Or, for the matter of fact, you're using me as a source of information."

"I-" Nanami started to say something.

"It's fine, I understand that's how an investigation works" she cut him off, before he could say anything. "But I want to know what the hell is going on."

This was bad. He couldn't stay on the phone with her anymore.

"I'll be at the hotel waiting."

"I'll ask Yoko to give you a ride." She hung up.

Nanami started texting Gojo right away, and hoped he would answer at that moment.

NK: I have been attacked in the hotel. I'm going elsewhere. Ask where to find me at the main desk.

SG: Are you okay?

NK: Yes. Only some mild bruising.

NK: Hurry.

After he got to Yamada's house, Shiori offered to help to treat his nose. They sat at the dinner table, and she adjusted Nanami's hair, which got completely over his face during the altercation, and was laying on top of the wound. This guy should really cut these bangs, she randomly thought. Shiori then started treating his nose — it was not broken, but might have a hairline fracture. He was pretty sturdy, after all, even for a jujutsu sorcerer.

"Did your face get hit by a car?" She asked.

"No. It was a curse user. He had a snake shikigami." 

She went silent for a moment, and kept treating his wounds.

"Well, did the snake headbutt you?"

"No, he punched me when I had my guard down."

She applied some ointment mixed with fresh and clean snow on his nose. It burnt. "It will be uncomfortable, but you'll feel better in the morning."

.

"Nanamin!" Gojo exclaimed loudly, as he walked into the room, white hair slightly covered in snow and frosty pitch-black glasses. "Well, you're definitely in the middle of nowhere." Satoru remarked, grinning widely. Nanami wished he could fall back asleep. He then feared he would have a nightmare reenacting this exact moment.

"Interesting!" Gojo said, examining his face wounds closely. "These are well into recovery for someone who just got attacked last night. Did you treat them yourself?"

"No," Nanami replied, "she did."

Gojo then looked at Shiori, who was at the corner of the room leaning against the wall while she held a bowl filled with water and a towel, at a loss for what exactly was going on. 

"Well, hello. I haven't properly introduced myself."

He never properly introduced himself.

"My name is Satoru Gojo, and this guy right here will be my sidekick for the time being." He placed his hand on Nanami's shoulder. Nanami slapped it away.

"I'm Yamada Shiori," she replied, "and I make things with herbs."

"You got that result with just plants?" Gojo asked.

"Yes. Plants and some clean snow can go a long way." She answered. "My mother used to make me help her when I was around 8 years old to treat the wounded and dying people of our family."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Most of them still died, though."

"Oh." Gojo was surprised she said that with such a straight face.

"... It's a joke. We used to help people that got hurt in these woods, or relatives, but they were sent to the hospital if things were dire enough." She replied. Gojo thought to himself that she had a weird sense of humor.

"She can also see curses and has an innate cursed technique." Nanami added.

"Oh." Gojo answered. "Well, have you heard about Jujutsu High? We have very few healers, and only one actually talented!"

Shiori seemed irritated. "No." she said, as she got out of the room and began descending the stairs, stepping loudly while pouting.

Gojo was confused. "Nanamin, what-"

"She was already scouted by Jujutsu High. Doesn't want to go." Nanami answered. "And stop calling me that."

"Hey, Nanami! Pretty boy! What do you want for breakfast? I only have cookies and tea, so that will have to do." Shiori shouted from downstairs.

"Did she... just call me... 'pretty boy'?" Gojo sounded disheartened. Nanami had a hard time concealing his satisfaction at that.

"She did."

"I changed my mind. I hope she doesn't come with us to Tokyo."

Nanami sighed as he started to get up. They both went downstairs and sat at the table. Shiori had served homemade cookies with Akita faces on them. "They're from the last festival that happened a few days ago," she explained.

"Well, I might just forgive you then." Gojo said, as he grabbed one of the cookies and took a bite.

She understood nothing, but figured it was pointless to ask. He clearly just liked hearing the sound of his own voice. 

"So... What is going on, guys? What is happening?" She asked.

Gojo lifted his finger, as if asking for them to be quiet and pay close attention to him, while he ate one of the cookies. They were waiting patiently — or, at least, Shiori was. Nanami was annoyed that someone would request his turn to speak while he had a mouthful of food to chew and swallow. Satoru finished munching and started speaking.

"I'll get into that in just a minute, but first, Nanami, I need you to call Ijichi." He pulled a brand new and never before seen phone from his jacket. "Use this. There is another Ijichi's number in there, as well."

Nanami grabbed the phone and started dialing.

"As for you, Mrs., are you aware the last victim was a Yamada?" Gojo said, lowering his glasses to stare at her directly. 

"I know. He was my uncle." She answered.

"This might be a coincidence, or you might be in danger!" The way he said it so casually and kind of exhilarated somehow annoyed her. "You could be our culprit's next target."

"Seriously?" She asked, revolted.

"Rest assured, you've got nothing to worry about."

"I don't? And why is that?"

"Because the strongest jujutsu sorcerer you will ever meet just got here." He said, putting on a conceited smile.

"Did he? Where is he?" She asked earnestly.

Nanami could be heard suddenly coughing from the living room. Shiori honestly did not understand the point Gojo was trying to get across.

"Well, you're really making this difficult for me." Gojo replied, taking a sip of tea. The tea was incredibly sweet, which he appreciated a lot. "Well, very difficult."

End notes:

I really need to define a day every week to post, heh. Next chapter will probably be posted on the 22th, but maybe earlier if I get around revising it before that!

[crusty-chronicles]

Kites reaction to hearing reader having to wear something fancy and go on a date with palm? 🤭

In reference to the latest Sun and Moon chapter I suspect😏

For those of you who are new, the series this is based on is here

It was something he was bound to find out during the duration of your relationship. Either through you or the boys. Something that was said in passing. And when he'd properly asked you about it, it wasn't something treated like a secret. You were open and honest about the situation.

You had gone on a date with a woman named Palm. And because you had absolutely no idea what you were doing, your approach was rather old fashioned. A nice button up with flowers.

Now, you weren't a flashy person by nature. Not even an outgoing one. So it was a bit of a surprise to hear how formal you dressed and acted. Especially considering your avoidant nature. But your reasoning had clued him in to your unusual behavior.

It wasn't really your choice to go on that date. It was either Gon or you. And he knew for a fact you'd never allow anything to happen to that kid. You'd deal with even the most unhinged of people if it meant he was safe.

Your day, as you'd described it, was one of your worst. Starting off with a spat between you and Killua that led to your date with Palm. Doing whatever you could to distract your mind from it. Laughing, flirting, the hand holding. (He didn't like the idea of somebody else touching your hands very much. Not when you two had done it first when you engaged in silent conversations.) At the end of the night, she'd even leaned in for a kiss, but that was where you stopped her.

You weren't so far out of it that you didn't know what you wanted. Who your heart wanted. And for that reason, he couldn't be jealous. Even without you explaining what happened, he never was. He's not the type to worry about the before. Who you were with or who was special to you. He respects your boundaries and trusts that you're with him now.

Which brings him to where you are now. Yet another biological survey. It was supposed to be a short one. In and out. Kite had offered to go by himself knowing your preferences. But you tagged along anyway despite the humid climate. Which was proving to not be the best decision.

It had started pouring seemingly out of nowhere. The droplets pelting you and seeping into your clothes in a matter of seconds. It was a miracle Kite hadn't brought any electrical equipment. Underneath a sturdy tree had been your temporary shelter until the rain let up. But minutes had soon turned into an hour.

So what did the two of you do during this shitstorm you might ask?

You two had danced in the rain.

It was no secret you hated the rain with everything in you. And for good reason considering the trauma you had connected to it. But as much as you hated the rain you loved dancing. It had taken quite the bit of coaxing from the taller male to get you to agree. Rationalizing that if you were stuck here, you might as well make the best of it. Promising that if you hated it, you two would stop immediately.

You were hesitant to step out from the tree's cover, but nevertheless you took his hand. Your arms going up to his shoulders while his rested on your waist. Your discomfort soon melting away with the light movements. As if your mind was starting to block out the cold of the storm. Your shift in demeanor noticed by Kite who decided to whisper words of encouragement in return.

“That’s it. Just keep your eyes on me. Focus on me, love.”

And that was all it took to have you forgetting about your disdain for the rain. Eyes trained solely on each other. He couldn't help but notice that the droplets sliding down your cheeks framed your face perfectly. You were both incredibly soaked, but despite that, Kite continued to sway you sweetly. Matching the soft tempo you were humming.

“Kite.” You called out after a while.

“Yeah?”

And the way you looked at him with pure adoration, it made his heart beat in overdrive. He was sure you could feel it with how close you were. He doesn't think he's ever experienced something this special before. This intimate.

“I think I'm in love with you.”

Not, ‘I think I like you’, but that you loved him. It wasn't a case of mild infatuation or a meager crush, but love.

He smiled down at you, mirroring your soft expression.

“Really? Because I know for a fact that I'm in love with you.”

So no.

You may not have dressed up for your first date with him. But it didn't matter all that much. He couldn't say he was jealous when the memories you were creating together now were sweeter.

How could he when you were right here looking at him like that? Like he was the center of your world.

-----------------------

an: Men who don't jump to conclusions and respect their partners>>>>>

[viilpstick]

Anyways!!! Here's the very very beginning of the event, it's not the event itself it's more of a prologue, and like I said I'll formally post it later once I have stuff figured out (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ enjoy!

Tagging @justm3di0cr3 too!!

•••

“Uhm… I'm sorry if I'm overstepping, Isabelle but…” Poppy began, using her spoon to mix the sugar in her tea, staring at it nervously. “You seem a bit… off today.”

“Off?” Isabelle repeated, lifting her eyebrow.

“I must agree.” Adeline explained. “You’ve been sighing and frowning more than usual. Don't tell me…” the blonde gave her a knowing look and Isabelle rolled her eyes. 

“No, it doesn't involve Leona. Different from what you believe, Delih, my world doesn't revolve around him.” Adeline pouted and Poppy let out a small giggle. Isabelle sighed. “I must return to my kingdom this friday and start preparations for the ball.”

“Ball?”

“Ah, you must be referring to the Rose Ball.” The blonde said, a happy smile on her face as Isabelle nodded, but Poppy just continued confused. Adeline chuckled. “In Roseneuve, that is, our housewarden’s kingdom, there's a ball held once every 10 years to celebrate the end of the curse of The Cursed Beast and the bravery of The Fearless Princess for breaking said curse.”

“Wait, our Fearless Princess?” 

“Indeed. My kingdom is where the story of the wonderful princess our dorm is based on originates from.” Isabelle continued and Poppy grinned, a little 'oh!' escaping her lips, making the older one smile from such reaction. Still, Poppy tilted her head in confusion.

“Wait… but why are you upset, Isabelle? Isn't it an honor to prepare for this event? I’d be over the moon!” 

“Well… it should be but… let's just say my considerate older sisters decided to throw all the responsibility onto me this year.” Isabelle clicked her tongue in annoyance. “They're exactly 7 and 10 years older than me, yet they fail to have basic decency… I'm the youngest one yet I'm expected to take care of such an important date…!” Isabelle breathed in and out, trying to calm her nerves and sipped her tea. “Well, it's not like complaining will change anything, so nevermind all that.”

“That's a shame… I wish I could help you in any way.”

“Me too, but unfortunately said ball is destined only to royals and nobility.” Adeline said, sipping in her own tea and Isabelle groaned, hand on her forehead.

“Do not remind me… to think I have to deal with such people…” she complained, but then lifted her eyes to Adeline, her eyes shining in delight as an idea popped in her head. “Wait– that's it! Adeline, Poppy you two are geniuses!”

The two girls looked at each other and then to their housewarden, tilting their heads almost at the same time, creating a comic image. “We are?”

“Papa always insists that in every ball if I want to bring friends over, I can! Exceptions can always be made for the Desrosiers’ acquaintances!” Isabelle clapped her hands in excitement. They didn't need to know that her father only said this to encourage Isabelle to make more friends, and they definitely didn't need to know that it failed hundreds of times. “I must call papa immediately– oh, that is, if you two want to come with.”

“I’d be delighted!” Poppy cheered and Adeline seemed to think it through, an anxious expression on her face.

“Delih? What is it, would you not like to come?”

“No, no– well, it's just…” she looked between the girls and sighed, letting cautious out the window. She could always use her Unique Magic to flee if someone happened to figure out her real status. “I suppose it would be fun.”

“That's wonderful! Oh, girls you two are the best.” Isabelle quickly got up and kissed both of her friends’ faces, running away to her room and letting most of her tea untouched. Poppy sighed dreamily.

“A ball, a royal ball at that! I wonder what Epel’s gonna say once I tell him!”

“Yes, I wonder…” Adeline mumbled, half of her hoping Malleus wasn't invited this year, and another one hoping he did.

ADELINE USING HER UM TO RUN AWAY IS SO REAL LIKE- "Oh, aren't you the princess of-" WOOSH!

she was there than she is no longer there

mah istg i am SO EXITED to see what you are up too LKJAKAJKLJ

giggling as i will anxiously wait for the rest frfr

[77ngiez-archive]

i don't know shit about the mormon religion but tbh ur posts about it have me thinking about looking into it since ive been on and off looking for a religion that fits me. do you have recommendations on where to start?

anon this made me so happy and excited u have no idea. i will answer the ask under the cut cos its gonna get. long

alright! so! quick (2 paragraph lol sorry) crash course! the mormon church is more formally known as The Church Of Jesus Christ Of Latter Day Saints. this is noted bcs i think its important to know that the church Is a branch of christianity!

the main difference between the church and other branches of christianity is that we believe that we have the restored gospel! to elaborate, we believe that during the years christ was gone, his church and doctrine began falling apart - misinterpretation, mistranslation, etc, all playing a role. the power of both the aaronic priesthood and the melchezidic priesthood was lost. sure, we also have the book of mormon (+ the doctrine&covenants and the pearl of great price), but the reason we have those in the first place is because the priesthood was restored to us.

the subtitle of the book of mormon is "another testemant of jesus christ". basically, you know all those times that jerusalem got destroyed in the old testemant? well, one of those times, this guy lehi takes his family and his pals and goes to the american continent! and then the book of mormon chronicles what happened to him and his many descendants, ending when they all... destroyed each other in war. the doctrine&covenants and the pearl of great price are both stuff from the prophets and apostles in the early days of the church! also, joseph smith (the "founder" of the church) did a retranslation of some parts of the bible. pretty neat!

now that thats out of the way, ur question - where to learn more! if there's a mormon church anywhere in your area (which is pretty likely, esp if u live in the usa) then you can reach out to that church and/or any missionaries on the area! u can attend church at a mormon church without being a member, and plenty of ppl do! ppl r very welcoming there! the missionaries can always teach u more! also, if u download the lds gospel library app (or use the library), u have access to all the lds materials! this is the bible, book of mormon, etc, but other stuff too. for example, theres the 3-volume book "saints" which is all about church history! its very detailed but not hard to listen to or read at all, and it focuses on individuals to help paint the story of how the church formed and was built (i love saints if u cant tell)

i love being mormon and wouldnt trade it for anything. however i feel like warning u that at the moment, the church has a bit of a toxic culture regarding queer stuff, and it can be rlly hard to deal with esp as a queer person who genuinely believes in all the true concepts that the church upholds. but! its absolutely not impossible! #queerstake right here on tumblr is a shining example <3

anyway im only one mormon teenager on the internet, so id suggest checking out the gosepl library, talking to missionaries, and even attending a session on sunday to see what its like if u feel like it. also go ahead and look thru the #queerstake and #tumblrstake tags, bcs theres a lot of both rlly good insight and rlly good community there! feel free to reach out to other posters in that tag for more info if this wasn't sufficient ^^ and good luck, anon!!

[clairelsonao3]

AITA for being suspicious of my boss/ brother's new protege? (Tag Game)

Another awesome open tag I haven't seen anywhere else, and I had to jump on from @smzeszikorova. This one was hilarious and gave me an opportunity to do the unreliable narrator thing and get into the POV of one of the villains from Good Slaves Never Break the Rules, although, for the maximum fun factor, I wrote it as if it could be a real letter from someone in our world.

Instructions: Write an AITA question from the POV of one your OCs.

This one's kind of involved, I know, but if anyone wants to try it, it's a good character-building exercise! Gently tagging:

@romanceandshenanigans @mysticstarlightduck @tabswrites

Anyway, for anyone who hasn't read the story and doesn't care about spoilers (or even if you have), I'm curious, based just on this, who do you think is the asshole here:

My half-brother (45M) and I (41F) are the most important people in each other's lives.

Below the cut are possible spoilers for Ch. 22 onward and mentions of noncon, trauma, and child abuse:

We were subject to severe abuse as children and our bond was the only reason we survived. Although we lost touch for a few years as kids, we eventually reconnected after he became financially successful. He's been a mentor to me ever since and even paid for my entire education, and now I work for him in his multimillion-dollar business as his head of research and development. I'm leading up a project that means a lot to both of us personally, a project so important it could disrupt the entire economy and change people's lives for the better all over the world. Achieving it is our lifelong dream!

The problem is, he's recently hired this new guy (19M) -- who has no formal education and has never even held a job, by the way -- who he seems convinced is scientifically gifted and that he is determined to make his protege in the business. They're hanging out together all the time and seem to be becoming BFFs. Plus, he's paying this guy almost as much as he pays me, gave him money for a brand-new designer wardrobe, and even a Porsche! And he's always talking about how great this new guy is; it's like he thinks he's the son he never had or something.

But I'm convinced the new guy is a complete fraud who must have somehow conned my brother into hiring him. First of all, he's telling my brother that I'm mentally unstable and I threatened and assaulted him (okay I admit it, I did, but it wasn't my fault! I'm traumatized from a childhood full of abuse and have trouble controlling my impulses sometimes. I'm working on it in therapy -- or at least I was before I got thrown out for allegedly trying to grope my therapist, but it was all just a misunderstanding.)

Even worse, the new guy is always snooping around the office and going places he shouldn't. He claims he's looking for his missing sister (17F), who used to work here, but I don't know anything about that! He's even gone so far as to claim that I'm defrauding the company and exploiting and harming the young women who work for me, which is ridiculous. In exchange for them helping me with my research, I'm giving them money, housing, support, and a better life than they ever dreamed of, which is more than I got as a child!

Bottom line, I think he's a liar, a con artist, and is trying to alienate my brother from me so he can take over the business and destroy everything we're building.

I told my brother everything, but he doesn't believe me! He claims I'm just jealous and paranoid and that I must just want to bang this guy (okay, maybe, but that's beside the point, and besides, I feel that way about pretty much everyone. What can I say, I have a healthy sex drive). And also that I'm just trying to distract my brother from the fact that my project is stalled and making no headway -- even though everyone knows groundbreaking research takes time and can't be rushed!

I can't believe my brother isn't supporting me in this. He knows how fragile and traumatized I am, but he sometimes forgets, which is why I try to remind him of it as much as I can. AITA for being afraid of losing my brother and everything we've worked so hard for?

[chonnysinferno]

miauuuu puts source memory writing under the keep reading thing or whateevr

(note: if you tag this as cj shipping or anything related i will hit you with a bat thank you)

It was snowing outside. It always was.

[Temperature's a good -1.6° Celsius outside.]

(Could you translate that into Fahrenheit? I don't follow.)

[Whatever. That's 29° Fahrenheit to you.]

We were both there, he was always finding something to nitpick about me. He always did. But this time, he was actually curious about how I was. Maybe it was only to find a weakness about me, although there were so many I couldn’t put it all in a list.

(Why’d you have to take me out in the snow anyways?)

It was so funny. It was all before the incident. Even saying that brought it up, fresh, like it was just yesterday. Before he became more of a monstrous machine, hooked up to wires and all sorts of blinking lights. Everything was so bright in there, I guess it had to be in his room. Besides the fact that his eyes pierced in the dark like eyes of a predator watching their next meal, everything lit up now. Before, it was just us. It feels like I’ve somewhat lost whatever humanity he even had to his desire to become perfect. It’s hard to remember anything when he was still alive to me.

[It’s nice out here.]

He preferred the cold comparing to the nice warmth of my room. He always insisted to talk somewhere frigid and freezing, much like his personality. I never got close to him, even if I tried, maybe he was trying to stay guarded, and he saw my attempts to get to know him better as “attacks”. They never were, but it felt like I was trying to fight him every time. It never was easy, but I wish it was. I wish everything could just be how it was back then, but we can never have anything we want, can we?

(You know why I hate being out here. I can’t understand why you’d ever want to be out here anyways, but I guess that comes with the Grinch-like personality.)

He scoffed. Maybe that was his attempt at a laugh.

[Ha ha. Very funny, Heart.]

(Genuinely though, why would you pull me out here? You know this isn’t my domain, and I hate being out of my comfort zone.)

[Good. That makes you more vulnerable.]

(Why are you like this?)

[Don’t ask me.]

(Since we’re being formal for some reason, what do you want, Mr. Mind? To mock me again?)

[No. I wanted to ask about your wings, and the fact you have 2 sets. Maybe you’ll sprout another pair of them, who knows?]

(Was that a joke? You have humor? Shocking. Where’s Mind, and what did you do with him?)

He rolled his eyes, sighing at me.

[I can crack jokes too, you're not the only one.]

(Youuuu sureee? Thought that wasn't in your system.)

[You suck.]

(Thank you!)

[That wasn't a compliment, idiot.]

(I know, but you take comments way too literally, stop being so concrete. Read between the lines! Think outside the box for me.)

[1. Those two lines don't correlate. 2. Thinking outside the box is for being creative and doesn't apply to this specific situation. 3. What lines, and what box?]

(My point is proven, I'm done here. Goodbye, Mind.)

I started to get up slowly, but he pulled on my scarf, a little too hard, forcing me to fall to the snow in an unmannerly fashion. What was he trying to do, embarass me?

(What was that for?? Don't you want me to leave?)

[No! I mean, no, I still haven't asked you my questions.]

(Ohhh, you want me to stay soo bad!)

[You KNOW that's not what I meant, Heart, don't play with me.]

(I know, I wouldn't want to date you anyways. I bet 100 dollars you couldn't even comprehend romance if you tried to.)

[Not like you can either.]

(You little-)

[Looks like I've struck a nerve. How's your love life, since you flaunt it so much?]

He grinned.

(Ugh, you wouldn't understand anyways. Not like it's any of your business, so buzz off.)

[I'll have you know I know more about romance than I let on, so tell me. What of your failures?]

(Uughhhh.. No, I'm not sharing my little stories with you, Mind.)

[Okay, then I'm leaving. Bye bye, Heart.]

(Good riddance.)

[What was that?]

(GO!)

[Okay okay, I'll take my departure.]

He cackled loud. He was only trying to get under my skin, after all.

I layed down on the white snow on the ground, letting the powdery material bury my face and body slowly. Wings outspread, shoes sticking out in the growing mound.

[splatteredfandoms523]

Ghost of the Manor (Ch. 2)

I hesitated.

I waited too long.

He gets married today.

The weather is perfect.

The colors are perfect.

I'm his best man I should be his husband.

I could just crash the wedding.

But then, I'd lose him for sure.

Or I could just confess now.

But, I wouldn't want to ruin this for him. He deserves to be happy. I want him to be happy. I want nothing more than to see him smile like how that glitch makes him smile. I could make him smile like that, once upon a time.

But, that was so long ago.

It was only one night.

He found me on the dance floor and pulled me aside, even with my martini in hand that I never drank but never spilled. He told me about the manor. He told me about Mark. He told me about everything. That's when I broke. It was too much, but I broke so silently, so slowly yet so fast, I just laughed in spite of myself. I told him he had great timing. I dragged him out on the dance floor with me. Where did my martini go? I can't remember, but the martini didn't matter then. I never drank them anyway.

I was drunk on him.

His smile, the way he swayed, the way he decided that just for one single moment that he could just exist and let everything happen around him. He understood, just for that one single moment. He understood how I lived the way I did then and why I live how I do now, how I can be so carefree and jovial.

He understood how I wasn't the Colonel anymore, wasn't William anymore, and how I just wanted to exist as someone entirely new. How time meant nothing when you were broken like this. How everything could just happen around you, and you didn't always have to influence it. How when we returned to the manor, it didn't need to stay the place that caused our inevitable demises. So, we changed it for the better.

We built onto the remains of the manor, claimed it as our own. We cuddled and shared blankets and conversation. It was just us. It was nice, to reminisce a bit, to have someone to hold. To have someone be there to bring you out of the days where you lose all lucidity.

But, then the others came.

The other Egos found us, and I was so dumb and broken. I never spoke up. I never told him. I was too focused on helping us build onto the manor and try to create some semblance of a family. We figured all of us Egos needed to stick together, anyhow. The rest of the world wouldn't know what to do with us. Those were simpler times.

Now, I'm helping him into a crisp new tuxedo for his wedding. It's a nice black with a black dress shirt and crisp silver bowtie. He had told me before he didn't like bowties like I did. But, I guess those things change too.

He doesn't seem to notice how I'm trying to hold everything in, or if he does, he doesn't say anything. He says this is mainly for formalities and only the glitch wanted a wedding.

Though, I can see it in his eyes. He never was a good liar, but he never wanted to hurt me. Maybe he does see how I'm breaking and kicking myself for staying silent. For never voicing my feelings for him.

But, he wanted this wedding as much as the glitch and everyone else. He wanted to forget about how I hurt everyone in the Manor, and it was all my fault. It doesn't matter what anyone says. I pulled the trigger. I hurt us all. It's all my fault. Of course he'd never want to be with someone like me.

Uniting the Iplier Egos and the Septiceyes is just a plus side to it all. He wanted to forget about me. He wanted to try to erase the pain I caused him from his memory.

This was my worst move possible.

I speak up about everything, yet I can't find my tongue when I attempt to tell him how I feel. I just can't hurt him again. I don't want it to be all my fault all over again. And I know he'll never forgive me.

Tags: @southerndragontamer @iamvegorott