#and the only reason they stayed alive and cursed was because i made him do it and promised i'd save him

[petr1kov]

My ideal Petrigrof endgame would be kind of like the Bubbline route taken in Obsidian: together again, just working through their shit together with to to grow

yeah tbh i did wish they were given room to work things out in their relationship in a relatively normal, non-catastrophic way. i mean, they obviously had their issues, mainly due to miscommunication, but i still stand by the fact that what truly ruined their lives were situations that were outside their control (simon getting cursed and the apocalypse happening). for all that they were/are obsessed with each other or whatever, we can't really ignore the fact that 'letting go' of one another means, on their case, moving on with their lives while knowing that their partner is suffering under a magical curse, like, right now, at this exact moment. i'd say it's a bit hard to just shrug that off, so it's no wonder that they were never able to 'get over' each other

[vrystalius]

Hello! I have another request🥺👉🏻👈🏻! How about one of the hashiras (or all of them saperated) + kagaya (platonic) x ubuyashiki daughter reader? In which reader is kagaya daughter and they are in love with her but haven't told her yet because her health is getting worse from the curse how would they react to finding her passed out on the floor with blood coming out of her mouth?

Wilting Wisteria

Ubyashiki’s daughter dies before the hashira who fell for her could confess. How will they react?

(So, Kagaya is around 40ish in this AU and the daughter is around 20. His sickness progresses extremely slowly, meaning he’s sick but alive. The daughter’s sickness progressed faster for some unknown reason, leading her to an early death. Also, the hashira’s crushes are seperate <3)

Pairing: Sanemi, Kyojuro, Giyu, Kagaya (familial) x fem!reader

Sanemi Shinazugawa

He can’t get the image out of his head. You, just laying in your futon, looking peacefully asleep. It looked like you’re going to wake up just in time to have your daily hang-out with the wind hashira. The day before, Sanemi promised you to make some ohagi, his favourite dish. He worked on that dessert all evening before heading out for his patrolling, making sure that every single ohagi ball looks perfect. Sanemi has been noticing that your condition has been worsening, and he was extremely worried. Much to his own dismay, he has been starting to grow attached to you and your enchanting aura.

You’re calming him with your mere presence, similar to his master, but… he can’t put in words what exactly he’s feeling, Sanemi just feels so safe and secure around you. Sometimes you encourage him to speak up about the things he experiences while out on missions and how he feels about them. Sanemi would lay down on the tatami beside you, and just talk. You make him open up, confront the things he’s seen. Sometimes he fantasises about him resting his head on your chest with your sickly coloured hand running through his hair. He would hold you close by your waist, gripping onto your robes as strong as he can, never wanting to let go. Sanemi should probably open up about these feelings to you… That what he planned on doing after eating the ohagi.

But now, it’s all gone. Those feelings were just replaced with anger and grief. He should have told you sooner, Sanemi should have noticed the signs that your time was approaching.

It doesn’t matter anymore. He never should’ve let himself get attached anyway.

Kyojuro Rengoku

Kyojuro tried visiting you as much he can, encouraging you to eat. You have to eat at least two meals a day, and he will make sure that you are eating those meals! Especially since you are so sick, you need those important nutrients! He always brings you either homemade food, a bento box Senjuro made for you or bring take-out from the village nearby. Kyojuro excitedly watches while you eat your meal, him sitting nearby and munching down on his own bento box. But perhaps that’s not the only reason he comes to visit.

He feels guilty when be thinks about how much he want to see you again. Is he hogging your attention for himself when he wants to see you just because? He likes being around you so much. Your smile brightens up his whole day and week, making him forget about his duties for a moment. A single genuine laugh of yours makes him feel like he archived some kind of life goal, making him beam in pride. Would it be selfish of him to want to court you?

Kyojuro still remembers the sight before him clearly. You reminded him of his mother, how she succumbed to a sickness. And now you’re gone as well, forever out of reach. The other hashira noticed how gloomy Kyojuro has gotten. Normally, no matter what, he always sees the good things in life. But perhaps not today. Or tomorrow. Or the next week and month. Kyojuro needs time and should probably stay away from Sake for now. He wouldn’t want to follow his father’s footsteps this far.

Giyu Tomioka

He had never the guts to talk to you much. His missions and his insecurities prevented him from visiting you much. Besides, why would you want to hang out with the (in his eyes) weakest hashira? So he didn’t even bother trying.

Yet, Giyu felt something for you. He gets nauseous and nervous around you, even though his face remains indifferent. He wants to reach out and touch your discoloured hand evey time your near. How will your skin feel like? Is your body warm or cold? If you’re cold, he wouldn’t mind warming you up. Giyu sometimes fantasises about what could be, what if he would get courage and confess to you. You’d probably reject him, but if you didn’t, how will your lips feel like on his? Would he be your first kiss? You’d be his first. But now it’s too late anyway.

Giyu was one of the last ones to receive the news about your death. He reacted with expressing his condolences, before quickly disappearing in his estate. Giyu stopped leaving his bed, only getting up for missions and meetings he has to attend. The thought of training was clouded by his grief for you. Why even bother getting up at all.

Kagaya Ubuyashiki (familial)

His girl, his sunshine. You’re gone now, succumbed to the same illness that has been plaguing his family for centuries. Kagaya was the first who discovered his body. Before getting Amane or any Kakushi to get help handling your body, Kagaya wanted to say his last goodbies. He pulled your head onto his lap, placing his hand on your beautiful eyes. He took the time to take in all of your features, tracing and caressing them with his slim fingers.

Kagaya had a soft smile on his face while small, salty tears slowly rolled down his face. You look so much like your mother, so beautiful despite the purple discolouration and sicker body. When you still had your eyesight, did you ever look in the mirror and saw yourself for who you truly were? An intelligent, gorgeous, ambitious young woman, or just a sick, bedridden burden to others?

Your death reminded Kagaya that his time is running out as well. If he wants Muzan to fall within his generation, he has to work harder, faster, be multiple steps ahead of that man. He promises you that the demon king will succumb to mortality soon. You will be Kagaya’s greatest motivator and reminder to continue to fight.

💠

Why would you hurt me this way? Why would you do this to me? Angst with no comfort? 😞 You are truly cruel.

Jk, I really loved writing this!! Your requests and kind words always brighten my day! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this!

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <3

[twizzie-lairs]

My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 5)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Quick Notes:

This is when both reader/you and Alastor are both alive. (... we'll probably end up in hell later on btw so stay tuned...)

Reader is an artist/painter.

Part 5:

It was almost pure bliss.

Except many months later, you found out a secret of his one day.

He was an exceptional chef, you were always in awe of how he cooked such magnificent dishes every day.

But one day, you peeked out into the forest through the window in the living room and saw Alastor standing alone, covered in blood. Your first instinct was to run outside, so you did just that.

You rush to his side and ask if he's okay, and what had happened to make him covered in such copious amounts of blood.

He blinks a few times before oddly turning his head to you, breaking out of his stupor, "Oh my dearest (y/n), do not fret so. For I am only acquiring our dinner for tonight!"

You look down at what he is holding in his hands. Your hand shot up to cover your mouth. A leg. A human leg. Your eyes then trail to the ground where you see a bloody human body, mangled beyond recognition. "This is.. dinner?"

A large grin appears on Alastor's face, "Quite right! This one should be enough to last us through the week!"

He looks at your face with an almost vicious look to his eyes, awaiting your response anxiously, not that he would let that show, anyways.

All you can manage is "Oh. Okay." Before you walk back inside the house without another word.

It's no exaggeration to say that your brain chemistry was permanently altered from that moment onward.

The situation felt so strange and bizarre, you didn't know what to think. Part of you knew that was he's been doing is extremely horrible and corrupt. It almost made you empty the contents of your stomach, it didn't feel real.

It didn't feel real, but suddenly some of Alastor's behaviors started to make sense. His picky taste for food...He never let you help with cooking, you had chalked it up to him being more of a perfectionist, but now... you know its more than that. He was hiding the fact that he was butchering and preparing human flesh, right in your very home, all this time.

But.. for some reason... all you could think about was how dedicated he was to providing a comfortable life for you, because he truly loved you. Everything he did every day showed you that you mattered and that you deserved only the best.

"But I still love him with all my heart... maybe I'm just as messed up..." Was a sentence your mind kept repeating to itself for quite some time.

Your appetite shrinks after the initial shock for a few days, but you were never one to skip meals or have your appetite be gone completely, even if you were sick. In this instance, you weren't sure if it was a blessing or a curse in this case.

The meals he made for you had never made you sick in the past, so your body was already used to eating his cooking, and he made such amazing food, carefully crafted with such love and attention to detail, you couldn't help but keep eating his delicious cooking, no matter how bizarre and immoral it was.

"I think I really am just as messed up..." The thought crossed your mind again, but thoughts were interrupted by a rare occurrence, a kiss on the cheek from Alastor as he set your plate down in front of you.

The fact that you never stopped eating his cooking and always thanked him for his food and hard work, even after knowing where the main ingredient comes from, solidified the fact that you were the one. You loved him even after seeing him all bloody, holding a dismembered corpse, and telling you it was dinner. It was this pivotal moment that he knew, that you were the one to be his beloved forever.

In the coming weeks, things went back to "normal". You were settling into the new normal, as Alastor didn't hide the meal prep like he used to, and seeing him bloody and bringing in mysterious cuts of meat into the house became a normal sight to you.

One night when you were going to see Mimzy, Alastor informed you that he was unable to escort you that night. You were a little disappointed, but he assured you it was okay for you to go, it was just that he had plans that he wouldn't divulge any information on, no matter how much you pressed him.

Little did you know, but that night, Alastor was out on the town shopping for the perfect ring to propose to you with.

-> Part 6

[buttercandy16]

Betrayal

PAIRING: Agatha Harkness x Reader

SUMMARY: The reader is heartbroken and finds comfort in the arms of her best friend.

Or who betrayed who...

WARNING(s): Cheating, manipulation, and a whole lot of SMUT.

A/N: My fixation for this woman is just unhealthy and I'm loving it. Enjoy!

Y/N POV

"The day we met was the day I was no longer a man of my own because from that very moment I surrendered myself to you and you alone, my Y/N. " 

Those were the exact words that my beloved husband said to me during our wedding vows. The words that made me feel like I was the luckiest woman alive… not until now.

Greg looks so handsome when he smiles, the way his eyes disappear with such mirth. Especially right now as he dances, swaying his body to the rhythm of the music. He's not really a fan of dancing but he tried it for me because he knew how much I love dancing, it made me feel special. But now as I watch him do exactly what I had originally thought he'd only do for me, with another woman nestled intimately between his arms made me realize that I wasn't as special as I thought I was. 

The way he dances is so much better than how he used to as if he's been doing this for some time now. I originally thought the reason why he's been coming home late was due to his busy work schedule because that's exactly what he's been telling me, I guess I was wrong.

My husband is no longer mine alone…

Tears silently streamed down my cheeks unnoticed as I willed myself to turn away from the scene that turned my world upside down…

The moment I went inside my car that's when all hell broke loose. I screamed and screamed until my throat felt raw and scratched while banging my fists against the wheel. 

Cursing his name for the lies, cursing him for the promises, and cursing him for causing me the most excruciating pain I have ever felt in my life.

My heart feels like it has been punctured a million times over by tiny pins. It stings at first, but now it feels as if they’ve left me numb, not even slightly painful, just numb. 

How could he do this to me? How could he cheat on me and throw years of marriage into the dust as if it meant nothing?! I gave him everything, I fully surrendered myself to him without reserve as I thought he would do the same to me… oh how wrong I was… 

I cried even harder just thinking of his betrayal but I was also starting to panic as I felt my chest constrict, making it difficult for me to breathe.

Damn asthma…

I looked through my bag for my inhaler, but it was not there. The panic and lack of air drove me to start gasping, breathing as if the oxygen had been sucked from the air around me.

I clumsily grabbed my phone and dialed the first person I could think of at this dire moment. 

After the final ring, I immediately spoke before the woman on the other line had the chance with labored breaths.

"A-agatha… I need you, please."

"Y/N? What's going on? Where are you? Are you hurt?" Despite the buzzing in my head and wheezing from my chest I can still hear the urgency and worry in her voice as she spewed one question over another. 

"Ha-hades Den… please hu-hurry. Can't breathe." I stuttered through the desperate sobs that left my lips, alerting the woman in the other line even more.

"Hades Den? The dance studio? I'll be there as fast as I can, just be somewhere safe and stay on the line with me." Agatha instructed but I could barely hear anything she was saying as I struggled to control my breathing. With my hands cold and shaking I accidentally let go of my phone making it fall next to the pedals.

"Sweetheart? Hey, I'm on the road right now. Hello? Are you still there? Y/N? Please answer me, you're gonna give me a heart attack!"

Already my thoughts were becoming jumbled like I was in a nightmare. Without uttering another sound the side of my face met the tinted window as darkness overtook my vision and my eyes closed.

_=_=_

Not really knowing how long I was out when I was suddenly jolted from my position when the door opened and I fell into the arms of my best friend who without a doubt caught me safely in her arms.

"Oh my God! Y/N!! What happened to you?!" Agatha asked worriedly.

I clung to Agatha’s arms as she helped me out of my car. She held an inhaler to my lips and I immediately took a puff, holding it in for a count of four before slowly expelling the air that tasted of chemicals. It was kinda bitter really, but after so long with asthma, I had come to associate it with easier breathing and so in a weird sort of way I liked it. Agatha put the cap back on the inhaler and jammed it deep into her pocket.

"Ho-how did you know I needed that?" I asked.

"We've known each other since we were teens, sweetheart, I'm fully aware whenever my best friend is having an asthma attack."

One of her hands kept me balanced while the other one cradled the side of my face trying to get a glimpse of my eyes.

The moment our eyes met I could see my reflection in her beautiful blue orbs, and I looked exactly like how I felt…  like shit… making me release another stream of tears down my cheeks.

"Sweetheart, please tell me. What happened?" she worriedly asked again while wiping my tears off with her thumb.

I couldn't really tell her at the moment, I just wanted to get out of here.

"Take me away, please" I softly begged, my voice barely a whisper but I knew she heard me as understanding can be seen in her eyes. 

She gently guided me towards the passenger seat of her car and put my seatbelt on me before settling on the driver's seat.

"I'll call someone to drive your car home," she informed me, I softly nodded in response. I leaned my head to the side of the window with my eyes closed as Agatha drove off away from the studio, away from my cheating husband.

_-_-_ 

"Y/N, wake up. We're here."

I woke up to Agatha's face close to mine as she gently shook me awake.

I was a little bit startled by how close her face was to mine, it was so close that I could feel her breath gently caress my cheek.

"U-um… okay," I gulped nervously, she only smiled before getting out of the car.

Surveying my surroundings, that's when I realized that she brought me to her house.

Agatha opened the door for me and gently took my hand in hers to assist me, leading me inside her humble abode.

Once inside the house, I was met with silence. Too quiet for what I was used to.

"Where’s Nicky?" I asked curiously as I sat down on the sofa while she disappeared to the kitchen.

"Nicky is having a sleepover with his friends. I also gave the staff some days off so it's just us here," she explained, coming back to me with a tray of water and alcohol.

"Alcohol?"

"I have a feeling we're gonna be needing it" she smiled mischievously before turning serious.

"So… are you gonna tell me what happened or should I play the guessing game?" she asked while pouring me a glass of expensive scotch.

"Greg." uttering his name leaves a bitter taste on my tongue. Much more bitter than the alcohol that I'm currently pouring down my throat.

"What's wrong with your husband?" Agatha asked while taking a sip from her glass.

"He's cheating on me."

Shock and disbelief painted Agatha’s face, while I tried my best to keep my tears from falling.

"You're kidding."

"I can assure you I'm not, I saw it with my own two eyes."

As Agatha sat there in shock, she laid it on heavy. "I told you he was no good! He is nothing but a cheating bastard!" After a breath, she continued, "He was never good enough for you anyway." Agatha’'s words rang true as my world started to fall apart.

Finally, I looked up with tears in my eyes asking, "What do I do? Leave him?"

Agatha doesn't even hesitate, "Hell yes! He doesn't deserve someone special like you."

I just sat and listened to whatever Agatha has to say as well as getting a little too deep with the alcohol consumption.

"You see, sweetheart, men like Greg are like damn leeches that suck the life from anything they come in contact with. He doesn't deserve an angel like you." she said with such seriousness which actually made me giggle a bit despite everything, probably because I'm getting really tipsy. I'm also starting to believe every word that comes out from her luscious red lips… 

Wait, What the hell am I thinking?!

I shook my head trying to get these… Um...weird thoughts about my best friend's kissable lips and what they probably taste like.

Arghh!!  What the hell brain?!

"Hey, are you alright?" Agatha looked at me as if I've grown two heads on the spot, which made me blush out of embarrassment. 

"Ye-yeah… Sorry… I'm getting a little too tipsy." I mumbled before getting up from the spot, which was a bad move since I lost my balance and fell backward into Agatha's lap.

"Well, this is comfortable" Agatha smirked as she wrapped her arms securely around my waist which only brought more blood flowing through my cheeks.

"A-agatha what are you doing?" I asked while trying to get her hands off me but failed miserably. She only laughed at my attempts and I was starting to get irritated not until I felt her warm lips softly pressed against my nape.

I went completely rigid from the contact, breath hitching, and my mind running wild with what the hell is going on.

"Is something wrong?" Agatha asks with a grin plastered on her face.

"N-nothing." I stuttered back to her.

Oh god, what do I do?!

"Are you sure? You seem a little flustered. Especially when you were eyeing my lips minutes ago" she asks before pausing, "It's as if you have been thinking of doing something with them."

"Agatha, I... I can explain." I tried to argue, yet I had no argument in my head.

"No need to, I understand. I've wondered for a very long time how your lips would taste as well," she whispered next to my ear. Her breath tickles my now sensitive skin.

Before I could react I felt Agatha's hand on my arm, I almost jumped out of my skin.

"Why don't we stop this little game," Agatha says, bringing her hand to my chin and making me look into her burning blue eyes, "And just… Give… In."

Oh my god! What should I do? This is so wrong.

"That's enough Agatha. I don’t want that and you won't speak to me like this any longer. I’m not like you… I’m not into women and married.”

"We both know that’s a lie,” Agatha whispered, and I watched as my best friend's hands moved to the buttons of my shirt. I could only watch her playing with it, slowly unbuttoning it one by one. "I think you do want it… In fact, I think you're deeply curious about it. You know I can treat you better, and make you feel even better than any man could."

"Aggie..." I went to protest.

"Shhhh." She whispers to interrupt me.

Frozen in my place, I was helpless to simply watch as my childhood best friend now fully unbuttoned my shirt. Her soft, slender hands move to the inside and effortlessly start to push the shirt to the side, exposing just a little of my bare skin.

"Give in, pet. Let your curiosity run wild" Agatha whispers.

My gaze meets her's, her soft lips smiling back at me as I feel soft fingertips running against my skin.

That's when I decided to surrender myself to this gorgeous woman holding me.

In a smooth and quick motion, Agatha pushes the shirt and it falls over. Only being held up by my arms, yet now my front body was fully on show. Wearing just a lace push-up bra, I remained still as Agatha's fingertips continued to explore my body.

 "Do you like it when I touch your body like this?"

Oh god, please help me.

"Y-yes." I stuttered back, closing my eyes as goosebumps appeared all over my body.

Knowing that I was losing control of myself.

She smoothly moved her head forward, her soft, delicious lips ever so slightly brushing against my ear as she whispers in the most seductive of tones.

"Does it feel good baby?"

"I...I....I..." I stuttered back, not being able to speak.

Closing my eyes and feeling Agatha’s warm breath on my ear makes my legs feel like jelly. I can already tell that my warmth is absolutely soaked.

Her hands explored my back and found their way to my bra strap.

"Cat got your tongue?" She whispers into my ear, her tongue slightly leaving her mouth and licking my ear lobe.

I gasped out loud.

My bra strap was unhooked. Pulling her head back, Agatha’s face was filled with joy as she kept a hold of the bra and pulled it back and off my body.

My body, no longer fighting any of Agatha's advancements allowing her to remove my bra, now sitting with my breasts on show.

With a slow movement, Agatha cups my right breast. Slowly playing with it, she flicks her thumb over the nipple over and over.

"Ooohh." I accidentally moan, my legs feeling weak beneath me.

"Do you like that?" Agatha whispers.

"Y-yes," I whispered back.

She continued to play with my nipple in her hand, knowing that I will soon be too far gone to turn back.

"What about this?"

My eyes were wide open in shock and a gasp escaped my lips as Agatha swiftly laid me on my back on the sofa while she hovered over my flushed body. She didn't waste any time and moved her head forward, her soft, plump lips landing around my nipple. Her wet tongue comes out and flicks it, running around in small circles.

I can't stop myself from letting out soft moans, my nipples have always been my weak point. As I looked down at Agatha’s soft dark hair, feeling her tongue playing with my nipple my legs begin to squirm.

She sucks on my nipple and nibbles down on it with her teeth.

"Oooohh." I moaned louder.

"Aggie, this is wrong." I panted out weakly.

"Yet, here we are," Agatha says, giving one last lick before pulling her mouth away. Keeping her hand on my breast, I feel like she had me lying here forever. "Why are you fighting this?" She asks.

Her hand pulls away from my breast. Just when I thought it might be over, Agatha’s hand returns softly to my pants-covered thigh. Instinctively, I slightly opened it and allowed my best friend's hand to run between them, ever so slowly getting closer and closer to my center.

Finally reaching it, she popped off the button and inserted her hand inside my pants, gave my warmth a slow rub from outside my underwear, and whispered.

"Why are you so wet?"

"I.... don't know." I tried to think of an answer but my mind is somewhere else.

"Hmmm… I think you do know. It's because you want this… need this…" Agatha pushed my underwear to one side; she easily slid one finger knuckle deep inside of my drenched warmth.

"Oooohhh." I moaned, biting down on my lip.

"Am I right, baby?." Agatha whispers, arching her finger inside my warmth, rubbing against my G-spot.

"Ooooh god." I moaned louder, closing my eyes and allowing myself to be fingered right here in my best friend's living room.

My head is a mess, the pure pleasure coming from Agatha's finger just increases when she easily pushes a second finger inside and perfectly hits my G-spot.

"Answer me, Y/N," Agatha demanded.

"Yyyyeesss." I moaned out in pure ecstasy.

"Yes, what?" She asks with a smile, knowing she had me where she wanted me.

"Yes, I want it," I said firmly, opening my eyes and staring at her beautiful face.

This spurred her to increase the pace of her fingering.

"Yes!" I moaned over and over, my G-spot getting hit by her amazing fingers.

"Good," Agatha says firmly and pulls her fingers out of my warmth, "Let's take this to the bedroom."

I know I should stop this, deep down I know this is wrong and that this can only end badly. But right now, I was no longer thinking with reason.

"Okay," I whispered.

She grabbed my hand and led me to her bedroom.

Finally, in the room, she shuts the door before sitting on the bed.

"Take off your underwear," Agatha commanded.

Not speaking, I bent over and pushed my underwear off. Now standing completely naked, by choice, in front of my best friend.

"Come sit next to me."

Sitting down, we stared at each other. For a moment, thinking of what is about to happen made my body almost shaking with excitement.

Agatha’s hand appeared on my thigh and once again instinctively I opened them. Her fingertip moves to my swollen clit.

"Oh god..." I gasped. Looking her dead in the eyes as she slowly massages my clit, sending so much pleasure throughout my body.

As my breathing gets heavier and heavier, my legs begin to twitch from every flick of Agatha's finger.

Not being able to control myself any longer, I moved my head forward and captured Agatha's lips with mine. Savoring her cherry-flavored chapstick.

As our kiss deepens, her fingers move faster on my clit making my legs twitch from pleasure.

My hand started to explore Agatha's body, caressing with such gentleness and sensuality. Landing my hand on her thigh, I gripped it tightly as I could feel myself nearing my release but before it reached that point, Agatha suddenly pulled her hand away from my aching warmth, making me whine in frustration.

Stopping the kiss, I stared at her in confusion. But before I could say anything she placed her fingers on my mouth and pushed it in, making me taste my arousal. It was divine…

With the combination of alcohol and pure lust burning through my system, I began to suck on her fingers as if they were a lolly whilst staring into her eyes, making her groan in approval.

The moment my mouth left her fingers, Agatha stood up and undressed with such speed I could barely process how she did it, but here she is now completely bare for me to see and worship.

I was still sitting on the edge of the bed when Agatha gently straddled me, our naked chests deliciously pressing against each other.

She grabbed my head and held it just inches away from hers, staring at each other's eyes.

"Touch me," She ordered.

Not having to be told twice, my hand goes to her smooth warmth which is just as wet as her own. With ease, I pushed my index finger inside and started to rub it against Agatha's G-spot.

"Ohhh yes!" She moans loudly. She looks down at herself fingering me whilst I fingered her. Looking back up we moaned in unison.

"Oh fuck yes!" Agatha moans out, pushing in to kiss me hard as the two of us finger each other.

This continues for a few minutes, each of our moans growing louder and louder.

"Lie down on your back baby," Agatha instructed as she pulled away from me. I was so close to my release but didn't mind it one bit for I was more than excited about what was to come next.

Lying down flat, I watched as she parted my legs and began kissing slowly up to the insides of my thighs.

She went closer and closer to my warmth until it was staring directly at her.

I turned red as a tomato as I saw how Agatha looked at my warmth, she was looking at it as if she wanted to devour it.

"Beautiful," she whispered and slowly moved forward.

Her tongue pushed inside of me and tasted my nectar. With her eyes closed, she explored my warmth. I can feel her running her tongue up and down my soft lips. In and out of my hole before finally reaching my throbbing clit.

"Mmmmm yes!" I moaned when Agatha's tongue first flicked my clit.

The way she was looking at me right now made everything so much hotter, and with it, a moan left my lips.

Agatha moaned back before getting her tongue back onto my sensitive clit.

"Don't stop,”

I slowly started to grind my warmth back and forth on Agatha's eager tongue.

My legs were spread wide, accepting the finger fucking in my warmth as the sound of my juices filled the room.

"Mmmmmm! A-aggie… I'm close.”

"You want to cum all over my face, baby? You want to cum on your best friend's face?" Agatha moaned but didn't even give me a chance to reply when her hands gripped my thigh firmly and in one quick motion slid her fingers knuckle deep into my tight, dripping warmth.

"AGATHAA!!!" I screamed out in pure pleasure and arched my back as my warmth flooded over Agatha's face. An earth-shattering orgasm wrecked my body over and over again.

As my body carries on shaking as my orgasm slowly dies down, Agatha, still hooked on my delicious warmth, carries on licking me, lapping up every drop of cum as she can while continuously she fingers my overstimulated warmth.

"Agatha, stop." I panted out, feeling too sensitive after cumming.

"Just one more, baby. Give me one more." She coos, with her words I screamed as my second orgasm was ripped from me. This time squirting all over my best friend's face and soaking the silk sheets that she shares with her wife. The taste of my sweet release on her tongue, and the magnificent sight of me squirting was too much for Agatha, making her cum hard with a primal moan.

After cleaning my warmth with her tongue she sits to the side and just stares at me with a beautiful smile on her face, looking quite proud of herself. I can see my juice dripping from her chin and some still glossing her lips which she seductively licks with her tongue, while her eyes are devouring mine.

What a sight…

She starts to slide her fingers around my lips. The fingers that were just in my warmth.

"Mmmm." I moaned as I happily took them into my mouth before her fingers were replaced with her soft lips.

Our lips parted before staring deeply into each other's eyes. All I could see in her eyes was pure admiration, desire, and…love?

"You're mine now, sweet thing, and I will not let anyone come in between us… never again." She whispered before gathering me into her arms with my head resting on her chest.

Her words ring inside my head, but I find myself loving the idea of being with Agatha, not quite processing the last part of her declaration which I gladly dismissed. All I can think about is that she wants me to be hers, and that made me feel like the whole damn zoo was having a party inside my tummy.

"Yours" I softly whispered with a bright smile on my face.

For a few minutes, we just both laid there basking in each other's warmth in silence. The smell and taste of my release filled our senses, and the room itself. It was the last thing my mind processed before letting sleep take me into the arms of my new lover.

_=_=_

It was a little before 11 pm when I pulled into the garage of my mansion, a mansion I share with my cheating husband. Thinking about it should've still made me feel bad, but that wasn't the case anymore. Because all I can ever think about the moment I left Agatha's home was her touches, kisses, and sweet words that she constantly whispered in my ears.

I came in the door a bit tired from the earlier activities but with a glowing smile still etched on my face. I set my bag and jacket on the kitchen table before I saw Greg eagerly enter the living room and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw me. "Wow, honey, you...you look glowing."

I just smiled a wicked little before answering in a slightly snarky tone. "Oh, thanks, honey."

If only you knew how I got this glow…

"Where have you been? I've been calling your phone non-stop but you weren't answering. I was so worried." Greg said, his voice raw with worry.

Getting fucked by my best friend in a much better way than you'd ever could… no biggie. I wish I could say these words out loud but I did my best to refrain from doing so, instead, I went into acting mode.

"Oh, I'm so sorry hon. I forgot my phone in my car. I was with Agatha the whole time, and well, we got busy…so busy that the time completely slipped my mind." I explained with my most convincing voice.

You cheating bastard don't deserve a single damn explanation from me, but I'll play your game, Greg… just for the kick of it.

"Well, I'm just glad you're home safe and sound. By the way, I have a surprise for you. I know I've been really busy lately, but I want to make it up to you tomorrow night."

"Oh, that's nice," I answered, not overly excited but still kept on indulging him.

"And to celebrate the anniversary of our marriage, maybe even a bigger surprise for you. I learned to dance." Greg happily announced, I on the other hand am confused as hell.

Shit, I didn't even realize the date for tomorrow is our anniversary. At that moment, Greg stepped toward me, pulled me in, and waltzed with me a few steps. While we danced, he said, "I have been taking lessons twice a week. I know I am no expert dancer, but I wanted to do this for you. I even have reservations for us."

I continued moving with Greg, my eyes wide and in shock as my mind started to spin. I suddenly stopped and just stood there. All I could think was 'this can't be. There is no way it was just dancing. He was cheating on me. He had to be cheating on me.' I had tears streaming down my face as I thought of what I had done earlier.

"Honey, I also took the liberty of buying the dress you saw last week when we went to the mall. I know it's a big surprise but we have all night to dance the night away." I was in shock as I continued to stare at him. And all I could ask is, "How?"

"Well, it wasn't easy. About two months ago, I was talking with Agatha, and I was saying how I wanted to do something big like learn to dance. She said she knew someone who offers dance lessons. So, for a week during lunch, we would work on a few basics in my office. Then, we progressed to going out dancing every Tuesday and Thursday at Hades Den, the dance studio. I invited my dance instructor and her fiancé to join us. I thought I owed them a nice night out after how helpful they have been. I'm so glad Agatha managed to keep it from you, I made her swear not to, so the surprise won't be spoiled. I was quite shocked since we both know she can't even keep a secret." Greg chuckled.

Hearing Agatha's name was enough to snap me out of my trance, "A-agtha knew?"

"Oh, she more than knew. She knows all about the entire plan. Sometimes she'd go to Hades den to make sure I'm progressing. Your best friend really wants the best for you, she's a gem. You're so lucky to have her in your life, in our life."

My mind started racing, and my breathing was getting shallower with every second that passed by. Greg saw this and immediately ran to my bag and grabbed my inhaler.

No… no… this can't be true…this can't be true. It doesn't make any sense… why would Agatha keep this… Agatha lied… she lied… and then she seduced me… we fucked… Greg never cheated… Agatha knew… we fucked… Greg didn't cheat… But I did… I cheated… I'm the cheater and not Greg… I cheated…

My mind was in jumbles as Greg placed the inhaler on my lips asking me to open my mouth… but I don't think I want to… I wanna drown in this asthma and just die on the spot.

Tears streamed down my cheeks as the feeling of guilt and betrayal started to eat me whole. My husband's worried voice feels like a faraway echo, as my mind is consumed by one question.

Agatha… What did you make me do?

_=_=_

Please don’t forget to like, repost, comment, and follow!! It helps boost motivation, lol.

[bangchansgirlsblog]

Sweet Angel 👼

Part one:

Has to re-write this

-🩷

**

The clock was ticking. Her heart was pounding as she sat outside the principals office. She said a small prayer because she knew the trouble she was in. She knew this was going to be a good day.

“Y/n. The principal is ready to see you,” Candice, the school receptionist, called for her. She gulped and looked over at the lady. She was tall and had a mini skirt on. Her blouse was see through but no body complained because quite frankly everyone enjoyed the view. She was a hottie after all.

“Goodluck,” Candice said before Y/n could even step into the office. She needed it in order to stay calm and stay collective.

Her shaky hands opened the wooden doors and the smell of fresh books and coffee filled her nostrils as she took a step inside.

“Y/n, please take a sit,” His voice was loud but not scary loud more like loud for no reason loud. Y/n never liked the way he yelled. It was always hours of a lecture that she didn’t give two shits about because she knew she was going to get into trouble again but get away with it anyway.

“Goodafternoon Mr.Zang,” she smiled politely before taking a sit and looking straight at him. It was almost like she was taunting him, making him look like some type of clown.

“Alright let’s cut the crap young lady. We’ve called your brothers in,” her whole body went cold. Her breathing picked up its pace and her shaking hands were very visible now.

“You called my brothers?” She asked in disbelief, “but sir-“

“I don’t want to hear it Y/n, we’ve been going through a roller coaster with you and I think it’s time I set my foot down,” He was signing a piece of paper. The room was dark and mostly made of wood. It was a typical principal study and that creeped her out even more.

She was scared. She was terrified because if Chan was on his way he was definitely pissed off. She was definitely going to be in big trouble and she was definitely going to get killed. She was on her second strike. She had already been kicked out of a school before this and if she got suspended again in this school that meant she was one step away from getting expelled again. That alone would put Chan and all the boys in a coma.

Fuck.

She let out a sigh. This wasn't good at all. At all.

She looked up at the clock again to calculate how much time she had to live. 20 minutes. She had 20 minutes to live and she would spend it in this sad room. Not how she expected her last moments to be.

Her stomach was churning and suddenly the lunch she had eaten wasn’t such a good idea because of the nauseous feeling that came over her. The nerves were eating her alive and at a point she thought she was dreaming.

Her short prayers were interrupted by the doors opening. Had it been 20 minutes already?!

"I'm so sorry I'm late," She heard Chan's voice fill the room. She looked over at the door and gulped when she saw him come in with leeknow glaring at her. A lump in her throat started to form.

Leeknow was the scariest out of them all. He was the only man that scared the shit out of her (after Chan ofcourse) she just knew if it was the two of them (Chan and leeknow) it wasn’t a good thing because the both of them together was like losing a finger while cooking your favorite meal…does that make sense?

"It's okay Mr.Bahng, welcome. Please have a sit." Mr.Zang said pointing at both empty sits right next to Y/n. She made sure to scoot a bit further so she wouldn’t be at punching reach from Chan. (She was just taking safety precautions)

"So what seems to be the matter? what did she do this time and how much will it cost me?" Chan chuckled and she knew straight away that that chuckle wasn't real. It wasn't real at all.

"Im sorry we have to go through this again but today we caught Y/n- well you'll see by yourself," he pointed the tv remote at the tv that sat on the opposite side of the room. It was cctv footage. Y/n cursed herself for not knowing that this man was keeping cameras on her 24/7. She felt dumb. The video tape played and showed Y/n with a bottle of vodka passing it around with her friends. They were behind school in the alleyway between the gym and main hall.

Shit.

She gulped again and looked at the floor not daring to look at Chan or leeknow. Her throat was dry at this point. She could hear a frustrated sigh and a 'you better start praying' from Chan.

"Now Ofcourse we don't tolerate any of this behavior," Mr.Zang turned off the tv and sat back in his chair.

"I understand that sir," Chan replied,

"We will have to put her on suspension for 3 days but I do have a question," he looked back and forth between Leeknow and Chan with a worried look on his face.

"Yes Mr.Zang, what is it?" Leeknow asked.

"Who is at home with Y/n? Is it just you guys?" He questioned the boys while adjusting his glasses.

"No sir, she has a nanny that takes care of her sir. It's me and my other brothers that are in charge of her sir,"

"And what about parents?..." he trailed off. Her heart slightly jumped at the thought of her mum and dad. All she could feel was numbness everytime they had to talk about them.

"We don't have any of that sir, her mum and dad died a while back so I was given custody over her sir," Chan replied politely. He too didn’t like to talk about the death of her parents. It ruined his whole mood because he knew it was a soft spot for his little sister.

“Oh I see because Y/n has been acting out lately and with the grades and her attitude she might not make it past 12th grade,"

She glanced over at Chan who was massaging his temples and trying to stay cool while leeknow sat with his hands crossed and his eyebrows furrowed.

"I understand that sir, I'll make sure she gets on her game,"

"Alright I think that's it, young lady I hope you take this time to reflect on your behavior," he pointed at her. God! She hated Mr.Zang. His pin black hair and beady eyes always creeped her out. Even his golden tooth that always seemed to be glowing no matter what. Ugh.

"Trust me she will be reflecting a lot," leeknow said before shaking Mr.Zang’s hand.

They handed them the peace of document for her suspension so they could sign it and once they had finished she got out of her chair and grabbed her bag from the floor and started following behind her two older brothers. They both were talking to eachother whispering back and forth as she walk quietly behind them. The school corridors were quiet and she was glad because if word got out that  2/8 of straykids were in school, that would be hell for her.

The car was parked outside with the driver in the front seat and when they got into the car and all the doors closed Chan started yelling. Yelling really loud. Her body was trembling at this point.

"What the fuck Y/n?!" He started off. she kept quiet and looked at the ground not daring to look him in the eye. "Oh! So now she can't talk huh?! Now she can't talk!"

"This is so disappointing! Yah! Do you know how embarrassing this is?! Getting called out of rehearsal?!" Leeknow added on.

"I can't even look at you right now! You're so stupid! Why can't you think before you act huh?! Why can't you do things without getting into trouble?!" Chan yelled while bawling up his hands in a fist.

"I'm sorry-" she softly said but she was interrupted by his sharp laugh,

"She's sorry! She's sorry she says! You know what I'm sorry for?! You're grounded for life. Locked up in that house for internal life!" Chan scoffed, "No tv, No phone, No tablet, No computer..oh and you know what else? No more free tickets for your friends! You will stay in that house until I see straight A's again understood?!"

“Yes Chan," She nodded her head,

“Also I’m taking you out of the trainee program. Your not debuting anymore-“

“Chan, please don’t. Please Chan that’s the only thing I have-“ tears started to build up in her eyes. Her heart was shattered. Chan knew how important that was for her. He knew how much she was looking forward to being in a girl group.

“I don’t want to hear it. This conversation is over,”

His face was red and he looked scary but she couldn't help it. Why would he do that? He knew that was my most valuable thing going on in her life.

“Chan I’ll-“

"I don't care! I don't fucking care right now! Just stay quiet and don't even talk to me, don't look at me if you can please don't even breathe the same air as me,"

She looked at him with so much hurt but obeyed his wishes. Her heart was heavy but she couldn't blame him. She deserved it.

She kept quiet and continued to look at the floor as they arrived home. Leeknow was trying to calm Chan down as she got out the car and walked into the house. Tears fell from her eyes at a constant speed.

"Hey, what's the matter?" Han asked, he was sat in the living room with one of his friends but he still chose to leave them and come up to her.

"Y/n? You reek of alchohol, where have you been?" He pulled her into a hug. Concern was written all over his face.

“Don’t touch me,” she tried to remove herself from his grip but it was too tight,

“Talk to me please,” he begged.

"I thought I said I don't want to see your face!" Chan's voice boomed in the room. She got out of Han's grip and quickly run up the stairs sobbing.

"Wait- what happened?" Han asked Chan who was now huffing and puffing.

"She's on Suspension,"

"Again?" Han asked confused, "what did she do this time?"

"Bottles of alcohol in her bag," leeknow explained while rubbing his eyes, tired as usual.

"Where does she even get that?"

"I don't know but I'm starting to get worried about her. I think this is her last strike. What are we gonna do?" Leeknow shook his head.

Chan was fed up and it was so clear, "I don't know but right now I don't want to deal with her crap."

"Chan don't say that, you don't mean it," Han said frowning.

"No I do! Han she has been causing hell! I don't know what to do anymore! I might just have to ship her off to boarding school! I can't be dealing with work stress and her stress! I've tried everything, literally everything but she won't change," he snapped at Han.

“Dont yell at me, I don’t mean any harm,” Han frowned feeling abit attacked, “Chan just give her time, she's just a teenager and she just lost her parents,"

"Who's just a teenager?" Felix asked entering the room from the kitchen.

"Felix back me up here, Chan wants to send Y/nnie to boarding-"

"What?! Why? You can't do that Chan?!"

"I didn't say I would and she got suspended Lix, " he run his fingers through his hair before he started to pace back and forth

"Maybe we can put her in classes? To distract her from being bad?" Han suggested.

"Yeah that's a good idea! That way we can monitor her there too. We can even pick her up after practice," Felix agreed

"We'll see but for now she's grounded for life."

[rc-writes]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐥𝐚𝐰 || 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙨 | 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢 | 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙤𝙣𝙚 | 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙗𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙙

pairings: jj maybank x reader

warnings: mentions of jj getting in a fight & he gets a black eye, slight use of cursing

a/n: hey, guess who's still alive!! i've been meaning to make a part two to this for over a year now but could not come up with a good enough storyline and it ended up going on my never ending to do lists :/ fortunately however season 4 seems to have jump started the gears in my brain because i thought up the entire outline for this in like two minutes the other night lol. anyways, i hope this follow up does part one justice!

When the midday bell rang signaling for everyone to either go to lunch or go home, you all but practically ran out of the building. Your attempt at trying to find JJ at school before first period and during class changes had failed and due to the strict deadline for the mural of two weeks you didn't have time to look around for him before you left. You hoped he might skip lunch or even the rest of the day to meet you at the restaurant.

Your hope slowly shattered piece by piece as the hours went by and the blonde boy hadn't shown. His previous attempt at painting a chicken still on the wall being a stark reminder of his absence. You hadn't had the heart to paint over it yet, leaving it for him to maybe continue tweaking it.

This situation then repeated day after day for a whole week.

You searching the halls of Kildare County High School before school and during changeovers, even deciding to spend a few extra minutes during lunch one day to maybe spot him somewhere. You thinking maybe, just maybe you'd turn the corner by the restaurant and he'd be there standing, waiting for you. And each day you found no trace of him.

Maybe because you only went half of the day and maybe you two just had wildly different classes on different sides of the building made for you two to keep missing each other. Maybe you had walked past him a million times and just hadn't spotted him in the crowd of students walking to and from classes. Maybe considering when you first met him, he was in the middle of skipping school so maybe he just wasn't there to begin with. Though this didn't explain why he was never there at the resultant.

By the fourth day of you coming up empty you had decided to ask around to see who his friends were. The only reason as to why you hadn't before was because it felt too desperate, but now you were bordering on being desperate.

Upon finding out he spent most of his time hanging out with the same three people, you spent another day staying a few minutes after your dismissal time to look for them at lunch. Soon enough you found one of them, a taller guy with curly hair that you hadn't forgotten the name of, but he only said he hadn't seen JJ around. Which you would have believed if it wasn't for him pausing for a long moment and adding in one too many 'uh's that left you to believe he was lying.

Now you felt like shit. Here you were thinking you had made friends with this cute, funny guy who actually seemed to care about your work, but it seemed like he had ditched you after only talking for a day. And it was one thing to get ghosted, another to have his friends also seemingly lying about his whereabouts.

Safe to say you had spent the fourth day wallowing in your own self-pity as you continued working on the mural, still refusing to paint over his contribution.

The truth was that JJ was also wallowing in his own self-pity from not that far away.

A few feet away actually.

In the public library across the street.

As he pretended to read some history book he found on a random shelf.

While instead of reading he spent the entire time he was there just watching you paint from the window.

Man, he felt like such a creep spying at you from afar through the half-tinted library windows, but it was to make sure you were safe from the assholes who wouldn't know great talent even if it slapped them in the face.

The reason for all of this was that he did actually show up the day after you guys' first meeting. He even made it a point to show up extra early so he could admire what you had painted after he had left the day before and surprise you when you arrived. But this exact time ended being the same time some group of guys showed up just to tag the wall.

At first JJ walked directly up to them to kindly explain that the mural was actually the work of someone who put in a lot of time and effort into it, but then things got a bit heated when the guys continued to pull out cans of spray paint. Saying something about how they were getting back at the fancy restaurant stealing customers from family business on the other side of the island. They didn't care if it was actual art made by the same people they claim to be helping as long as it meant hurting the people with money too.

Long story short JJ ended up with a black eye and a busted lip, but it was all worth it to him because the guys decided they no longer cared about the wall. It was all worth it up until he spotted you turning the corner down the street and he realized he did not want you to see him all beat up and so he quickly went off down the other side of the block.

He couldn't let you see him looking like this on the second time you two ever saw each other. What if you took one look at him and just automatically assumed the worst? What if you just saw him as just another asshole who got into fights every other day just for the hell of it? Yes, he had gotten into many in the past like just now, but it was all because someone he cared about was going to get hurt otherwise.

Oh god now that he thought about it, in just one day you had become someone he cared about and now he was definitely not going to confront you with this information on day two of knowing each other. What if you thought that was way too forward and pushed him away?

Something in his mind told him you didn't seem like the person to just make assumptions and turn him away without any explanation. That even if you thought it was too weird, you would probably just kindly reject him. But the mere thought of that being a wrong assumption was too much to handle and so he just decided to avoid you completely.

He had to admit that the idea sounded pretty stupid, but he didn't know what else to do. He wasn't good with feelings stuff or new people. Maybe you didn't even have a good time the day before and didn't care he was there again this time.

And so JJ had his own routine he stuck to for the week. Diving into the nearest classroom when he saw you walking in his direction at school, even if that meant accidentally interrupting a class or two almost on a daily basis. Pleading again and again to his friends to not tell you where he was if you asked, even though they continued to tell him he was being over dramatic. That you'd most likely understand what happened. Going to the library across the street every day after school and then leaving once he saw that you had left.

This was the same routine he continued to repeat on the fifth day since you had met. After pretending to browse the library for the hundredth time he saw that you had left and began to make his way across the street to admire your work up close.

Unknowingly to him however was that you had made it just around the corner before realizing you left one of your paintbrushes on the sidewalk and turned back around to go get it. Good bigger brushes were expensive and hard to come by so there was no way you were just going to leave it there.

Once you turned back around the corner you couldn't believe you were staring at JJ just standing there in front of the wall. His messy hair was shielding you from seeing his face, but you could recognize him anywhere. He really did leave such an impression on you in just the hour or two you talked a few days ago.

"JJ?" You called out as you walked closer to him.

JJ just about jumped out of his skin when he heard your voice. He definitely thought you were long gone by now. Instinctively he turned towards you and then quickly turned back around so you couldn't see his face.

The next minute or two was you two practically spinning in circles as you tried to face him directly and he tried his damn best to make sure you didn't. Eventually you moved fast enough to get in front of him and saw the reason for his avoidance.

You couldn't help but gasp softly when you saw the half-healed bruise across his eye. "JJ what happened?" You instinctively began to reach for his face, but he softly blocked you with his hands.

"It's fine, I'm fine. I've had worse," He tried to fake a smile, but it faded as quickly as it appeared when he saw a new flash of worry come across your face. Shit why did he say that?

"I- bad wording, sorry." He added quickly. "I just mean it's fine, nothing I can't handle."

You shook your head slightly, not having it for his attempt at brushing this off. "JJ just tell me what happened."

He just stared into your eyes for a moment. Man were they pretty and also dangerous. He'd swear that he would have admitted to whatever you wanted him to if you kept looking at him like that.

Eventually he sighed, running his hand through his hair as he closed his eyes briefly and then opened them again when he decided to just tell you the truth.

JJ then explained what had happened with the taggers in a rollercoaster of emotions. One moment he'd pretend to reenact a moment dramatically before realizing that might worry you more, so he'd then cut the explanation short and brush it off as if it was nothing.

You would have laughed at his back and forth if it wasn't for the genuine worry that had overtaken you. As he explained the whole ordeal you couldn't help but feel bad that you had automatically assumed the worst of him. That his avoidance of you was all because he was just some asshole, when in reality it was really the complete opposite.

"You tried to take on four guys by yourself for me?" You questioned once he finished telling the story. He nodded, a thin smile on his face. "JJ that is incredibly stupid but also incredibly sweet in an odd way."

"I couldn't just let them ruin all your hard work." He shrugged it off as if it was something just anyone would do.

You couldn't help the smile that spread across your face, shaking your head in disbelief that anyone cared enough to literally fight for you.

"Just next time call for backup or something, so you don't get hurt again." You gestured to his bruised eye.

It was at this moment you yourself realized how much you began to care about him already. It seemed to just be incredibly easy and right to get attached to him so quickly. Though your moping around all week should have been your first sign to this.

"I'll try, but I make no promises." JJ flashed a stupid grin at you that even though you hadn't known him long you could just tell it was a signature move for him. You couldn't help but playfully shove at his shoulder, the both of you laughing.

"Alright now to make up for avoiding me for a week I must demand that you be here one o'clock sharp tomorrow to continue helping me get this painting done." You spoke in an exaggerated fake drill sergeant voice as you pointed to the half-finished mural.

JJ quickly responded in character, raising his hand up in a salute. It was clear as day that he was holding back a grin, the corners of his mouth twitching. "Aye, aye capt'n! Will do!"

You couldn't help but laugh more. "Pretty sure that's how you'd respond to a pirate not a commander."

"No, I'm pretty sure it can be both."

"Yeah, okay Maybank. Sure." You nodded, laughing.

You couldn't believe you made it a whole week without ever talking to him. Hell, you didn't know how you've gone your whole life without him in it. Come to think of it, you weren't sure if you've laughed this much just in the last month alone before you met him.

The one thing you did know, however, was that you were determined to have him stick around for the rest of it, whether he liked it or not. Though something in the way he looked at you made it not very hard to see that he definitely would like to.

[santaasi]

SHADOWS

pairing: jj maybank x routledge!fem!reader

summary: when emotions take over and shadows are swallowed up, all you need is to find a person who will become your light (based on shadows by sabrina carpenter)

warnings: angst, a little bit of fluff, use of y/n, english is not my first language

word count: 2.3k

a/n: the action takes place after the finale of the first season of obx

We all got nightmares in our dreams

We look for someone to believe in us

And show us the way

And make it okay

The world can be dangerous

EVERYONE IN KILDARE KNEW WHO JJ MAYBANK WAS. A flighty, self-confident blonde, a girls man, the life of all parties, and the honored prince of pogues. You could always buy the best weed from him at the best price, and repair the car as soon as possible. He appears in the police station more often than at home, and all parents pray only that their child does not fall under his charm. JJ Maybank was a walking problem, but despite that he had a heart of gold.

As a child, his mother told him that life consists of white and black stripes, like a zebra. But for some reason, JJ's own life was like a big and long black tunnel, in which fireflies sometimes appeared, illuminating his life. John B, Kiara and Pope were the only bright spots in his life, the most important people who, no matter what, stayed by his side.

But it was only for John B, that JJ was ready to do anything, because their bond had always been stronger than just friendship. They were brothers who had been going through all the problems together since childhood. John B. was by JJ's side when his mother left the family when he was seven. John B. was there when JJ's drunk father beat him almost to death when he returned home one night. John B. was there to treat his wounds, and allocated a separate room for him in the chateau so that JJ would not have to return home. John B. was the one who always believed in JJ, who knew that despite all the words of the people around Maybank, he would not become like his father.

That's why the loss of John B in the storm two weeks ago was another blow to JJ's gut from a life that proved to him over and over again that JJ Maybank was not made for happiness.

There's something so rare in your veins

Not a single thing I would change

And oh, if you only knew how I see you

Would you come alive again, alive again?

But despite how much JJ Maybank treasured his friendship with John B., he couldn't do anything about his feelings for his friend's younger sister, who, like a little sun, always lit his way in this pitch darkness of his life.

Y/N Routledge has always been her brother's most precious treasure. After their father disappeared, John B. devoted himself to his sister, protecting her from everything, promising that he would always be by her side. And now, seven months after Big John disappeared, John B. wasn't with her either. She was left all alone in this big world, which seemed ready to swallow her completely.

The first week after John B. went missing, JJ heard Y/N crying quietly at night, suppressing her screams, burying her face in the pillow. He could hear the sound of her bare feet on the wooden floor and the slam of the screen door when she woke up at the middle of the night from nightmares and went out on the porch to get some fresh air. Every night, Maybank cursed the thin walls of the chateau and John B. for causing her so much pain by leaving. But no matter how much JJ wanted to help her, he was too deeply drawn into the swamp of his own feelings, from which he could not get out in any way.

Y/N wasn't blind to what was going on with her brother's best friend either. She knew how much shit JJ had to go through in his entire life, how many loved ones he had to lose, and she understood that losing John B was another blow for him. She felt how he blamed himself for what had happened, heard how he wakes up at nights from nightmares, asking John B. and Sarah not to go into the storm, saw how only a pitiful shadow remained of the former JJ and it broke her heart.

The girl always admired the strength of JJ's spirit, despite all the shit that happened in his life, he stayed afloat. He raised his head and walked confidently and straight on. He supported his friends, was ready to do anything for them, even go to prison for a case that he did not commit, as long as his friends, his only family remained unharmed.

And JJ Maybank was always there for her. When her heart was broken for the first time, he was there, holding her tightly to his chest, whispering soothing words in her ear. When she was fighting with John B., JJ was always on her side, listening to her outrage. JJ Maybank went to parties with her, dancing with her until the sunrise, sat with her on rainy evenings at the chateau, watching romcoms that he hated, brought her her favorite sweets when she was sick, taught her surfing and listened to all the gossip from her work during their mini spa days at the chateau with such interest, as if Y/N told him about the beginning of the universe. JJ Maybank was always there for the younger Rotledge and it was just impossible for her not to fall in love with him.

She loved her brother's best friend even when he was a complete mess. When he cried on her shoulder after another fight with Luke. When he got drunk and she had to carry him to the chateau. When he was angry at her for getting into all these dangerous things with all the other pogues.

Y/N Routledge loved JJ Maybank in every shape and condition. And she would never change even the slightest detail about him, because for her, JJ Maybank was perfect for who he is.

Y/N was also hurt by the loss of her brother, and she, like no one else, could understand all of JJ's pain, but unlike him, she had the strength to live and move on. She didn't blame herself for what had happened, realizing that John B. had always been too stubborn to listen to anyone, but JJ… He was devouring himself from the inside out. He dug out the grave himself and buried himself with his head. The darkness that had been accumulating in him for so long was finally winning. And Y/N was scared. She didn't want to lose him either. She couldn't lose him.

I need you to understand

Y/N stood in front of the door to JJ’s room, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other, doubting the correctness of her actions. They haven't spoken since the day John B disappeared, although they've been living under the same roof all this time, but they were functioning on their own.

After hearing another sob from behind the door, the girl finally opened it, going inside.

It was very dark and cold here, but after getting used to the darkness for a couple of seconds, Y/N began to distinguish silhouettes.

The room was a complete mess: all the clothes from the wardrobe were spread out on the floor, along with books, notebook sheets, rumpled bed linen and glass fragments that glittered in the moonlight. The lamp fell from the bedside table and was lying in the corner.

JJ was sitting at the foot of the bed, his head buried between his knees, and his hands were clutching the strands of his blonde hair in fists. His body was trembling. Even without seeing his face, Y/N could tell with certainty that JJ was trying his best to cope with the hysteria that was punishing him.

"Hey, J, are you okay?" the girl asked softly, quietly approaching the guy and kneeling next to him.

Startled, JJ mmediately raised his head, staring at the girl in shock, as if he had seen a ghost. There were wet marks on his cheeks, and his eyes were swollen and red from crying. More than anything, Y/N wanted to hold him close and comfort him, to convince him that everything would be fine.

"Angel?" JJ asked hoarsely, not believing his eyes. The sound of her soft and gentle voice sent a wave of goosebumps through his body. Her voice. It had been so long since he had heard her voice. "Did I wake you up? I'm sorry... I-I didn't mean to... I-" JJ stumbled through his words, frowning and averting his gaze from the girl.

"Hey, hey, hey... calm down, J," the girl whispered softly, covering his palm with her hand. "I understand, okay? Everything is fine," the girl said soothingly, trying to smile.

I don't mind your shadows

'Cause they disappear in the light

JJ's gaze ran over her face, going over every detail of her appearance that he has memorized over all these years by heart. She looked the same as always, but her gaze seemed to have lost the spark that made his heart beat faster every time. But now all he could see there was emptiness and sadness, which even her slight smile couldn't hide.

All these two weeks, living under the same roof with her, JJ avoided her gaze, afraid to see this look. The look of loss. The loss of a brother that JJ felt responsible for. The lucky charm for all problems in the world is JJ Maybank. And JJ hated himself for it.

He caused her so much pain, coming to her to heal his wounds after fights with his father or kooks, or when he brought girls to the chateau, knowing full well about her feelings for him... Because he's afraid to admit to her that he's experiencing the same thing. JJ Maybank destroyed not only her life, but also the lives of all the people around him. And he thinks that it would be better for everyone if he just didn't exist.

Y/N noticed how his jaw clenched, and his gaze fixed on the wall became colder and felt a wave of goosebumps pass through her body when he abruptly got up from the floor early. Routledge Jr. could always understand her brother's best friend even without words. This situation was no exception. She understood that JJ's inner demons were devouring him from the inside out.

"Don't do this, Jay. Don't do this to yourself," Y/N whispered softly, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to burst, but her voice trembled treacherously.

"I'm the problem, angel," JJ said without turning to the girl still sitting on the floor. "I am the main cause of your troubles! Wherever I go, I only make things worse! I... didn't save John B.... I'm hurting you... I..."

"Don't do this to me, Jay!" the girl repeated more forcefully, jumping to her feet, wiping away tears.

"I don't care about your shadows! I'm not afraid of them!" Y/N said sobbing, clutching his hand. "I'm here! I'm always there for you! I'll be your light if you need me. But don't leave me… I-I love you."

And listen to me, it's okay to be afraid

Just walk like you're never alone

"I didn't stop your brother, Y/N," the guy continued to insist, whispering, feeling tears accumulate in his eyes again. "He’s not here! And it’s my fucking fault!"

Y/N's hands cupped his cheeks, pressing his forehead to hers, closing her eyes and trying to calm her breath. JJ's hands rested on her waist, pressing her against his body, wanting to feel such a missing and dear warmth to his heart. JJ could feel her thumbs wiping away the tears rolling down his cheek.

"Listen to me, J. It's not your fault," Dana whispered softly.

"It's not your fault that John B is a stubborn bastard who always does everything the way he wants," the girl chuckled softly, feeling tears begin to roll down her cheeks too. She missed her brother like crazy, and she would do anything to have him here with her right now. But here and now, there was no John B., it was just her and JJ, who was damn bad at handling his emotions. So, Maybank and his mental state were more important to her than grief for her brother right now.

"You know you wouldn't have stopped him, so stop blaming yourself," Y/N sniffed, opening her eyes to meet his blue gaze. "It's not your fault."

The guy nodded slowly, holding her closer to him, burying his nose in her neck, inhaling soft vanilla scent of her hair. Y/N felt his body shaking in her arms, as he desperately clung to her, trying not to let himself completely collapse.

"I'm so scared that they won't come back, angel," the guy whispered softly into her neck. "I'm so scared that he won’t come back…"

"Me too, but it's okay," the girl whispered with a lump in her throat, running a soothing hand through his hair. "Everything will be okay… He will return… It’s- It‘s John B, he always returns"

There was silence in the room, broken only by their ragged breathing and the patter of raindrops on the window. JJ lifted his head, gently brushing away the strands of hair stuck to Y/N's cheeks, giving her a soft smile. JJ kissed her gently on the forehead before pulling her to his chest, hugging her tightly. His chin rested on top of her head.

"But we'll get through this together, as we always have. Like we've done it hundreds of times," Y/N said in a barely audible voice, forcing not only JJ, but also herself to believe that someday, everything will come to its senses again.

That someday John B and Sarah will come back and everything will be as before. That maybe someday her father will be found too and she will have a family again. That the black shadows that consumed JJ's life would be replaced by the sun's rays that would illuminate his path. That someday their life will really become like a zebra, and not like a black tunnel from which there is no way out.

But for now, all they could do was hold on to each other tightly, not letting themselves drown in the shadows of grief and loss.

And Y/N Routledge knew for sure that with JJ Maybank by her side, she could survive anything.

And all these voices in our head

Well, they keep screaming louder and louder

But they won't pull us under

thankx for reading <з

this is my first work on Tumblr, so I hope you enjoyed it. feedback always appreciated :з

– your santi ✨

masterlist

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Butterfly I

a/n I'm clawing my way into this fandom since salt and pepper god took over my brain! Be gentle with me since it's my first time writing for this man! Happy reading! 🤍

summery: When Joel thinks that his life is over his little butterfly sends him a new reason to stay alive. The only problem is that he doesn't know how to love but when you are the meaning of love itself how can he not fall.

Part II can be found on my blog

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World had ended twenty years ago for Joel. Even more so, he was sure that he had died alongside Sarah. If he had a chance, he would have gladly been buried by his little girl. He didn't have a reason to be alive. Well, there was Tommy, but at that moment even that didn't seem like enough to keep him going. The moment Joel failed to do his first and most important job—protect the ones he loved—changed him without a chance of going back.

The morals had to die soon as well, and Joel had learned it the hard way. He tried to fight and protect the innocent at first. To stupidly ensure that everyone had been taken care of in the same amounts. Well, that resulted in him getting beaten multiple times. He didn't fight it at first. The physical pain numbed the emotional scars. But then something snapped in him, and he longed for the first blow. Then the second. Third. With a realization that this was how his sorry life was going be for the rest of his pointless existence. To fear less, Joel needed to become someone people feared, and he did just that.

Until, after one of his deals, he ended up running into you. Completely by accident as he tried to get away from the people he just had business with. Joel bumped into you, knocking you to the ground and causing you to hit your head on the pavement. "Shit, fuck", the male kneeled beside you cursing. You just laid there, and for a split second, Joel was convinced that you had died, until you let out a growl as you moved your hand to gently touch your pounding head. He debated whether he should just leave you there or take you back to his place. The first option was less complicated and demanded fewer efforts from him, but when he saw your eyes as you tried to look around, seeking to find who had caused such a collision, that's when he knew he couldn't just walk away like that.

Then a smile crept onto your face, followed by a light chuckle, and something inside Joel twisted again. He hadn't heard the sound of laughter in years. "Dang, for a moment I saw white horses running around", you laughed out loud, covering your eyes with your hands. Even more, concern washed over Joel. Had you hit your head that hard? He couldn't afford to get you medication or even a doctor for that. So he did the next best thing - assisted you in getting up and walking you to his place.

Everything after that was made up of Joel trying to hurt you so you would leave him and go your way. He desperately wanted to push you out of his life because he was afraid to admit that Sarah would have loved you. That she would have been nagging him constantly to bring you around. Imagining how life would have been with you before the outbreak. How would it have felt to come home to you making dinner? Hearing you and Sarah laughing together. Joel knew—he knew without even needing to think about it much—that his daughter would have loved you. He wished she had had the opportunity to experience your motherly love. The effortless, endless love that poured from within you. And finally, have a truly normal family built on love.

After all, Joel was convinced that Sarah had sent you to him herself. As if it was her way of making sure, even from heaven, which Joel barely believed in, that her father lived. Not just used up air and wasted his days away but found something to live for. You angrily bandaged Joel's arm one evening after yet another deal had ended poorly, leaving the man with a nasty cut on his forearm. Well, if he could even call that anger. Joel doubted you had that emotion implanted in your brain. You had pushed up your sleeves, not wanting the ends of them to get damp as you moved back and forth between a bowl of warm water and a cloth to clean the blood off his skin. That was the first time Joel saw the ink on your body. A butterfly, and then another one just above the first one.

Joel thought he imagined it at first. He knew he must have looked like a lunatic to you when he gripped your left hand firmly before pushing the material of your sleeve even further up. Three butterflies. All inching further up and up. Butterflies. Sarah loved them; she was Joel's little butterfly. The butterfly that got crushed by the brutality of this world.

"Joel," you carefully mumbled as his fingers traced the tattoos. A flicker of what was behind the mask flashed in his eyes. You knew that he was a broken man. People talked, and even if half of what they were saying was true, it was a lot to go through. Especially alone. Especially after losing the main purpose of your world. "This… when did you get this?", his words came out harsh, as if you should have felt guilty, "Not long before the outbreak. It just…", you giggled to yourself, "Feels silly now that they symbolize growth, a new beginning, and shit". However, it didn't seem stupid to Joel even if he had yanked the cloth out of your hand, pushing you out of the bathroom. Emotions took control of him. He couldn't love you. Couldn't stand you. But the way you kept knocking at the door, concern in your voice as you pleaded with him to let you in, only proved what he already knew. You two had found someone to hold onto. As scary as it may sound.

When Ellie first met you, she couldn't believe that you two were even here and had somehow mutually agreed on something. It seemed impossible to her. You were the polar opposite in her eyes. From the moment in the hallway when Joel had yanked her against the wall, you had warned the male as you leaned over to the girl. Ellie backed away at first, but it's like you had a magical touch, and not even a blink later, she was clinging to you as if you were the last straw for her survival. Joel had only grumbled more at the sight of that. "Get your hands off her," he said, motioning with the gun for the girl to move away, but all you did was tilt your head to the side, giving him one of those looks. "Joel…" you warned him, before turning your attention to the girl, "I'm Y/N, and that's Joel. He's always grumpy. It comes with age, so don't pay too much attention to him." For a moment, Ellie got scared that the gun might now end up being pointed at you, but the male only tightened his jaw before lowering the weapon. And that didn't change when you crossed the wall. You were there talking with her, making sure that she was okay, ensuring that Ellie's desire to communicate was satisfied, while Joel just frowned.

"Here you are", Joel's voice brought you out of your thoughts, and you smiled at him softly. You had just made your way to the safe house. Days of traveling rubbed off on all of you, so you were more than happy to indulge in some peace. "Was wondering where you crept away", even if Joel was 99 percent sure that he was going to find you here once he didn't find you in the dining room. It only took one look outside to know you'd be on the patio. Curled up on the bench watching the sunset. Any time you came by Bill's and Frank's, you always spent your evenings there.

"Missed the view," you mumble, resting your chin on your knees, "Or maybe the fact that there is nothing to fear here." Joel moved to sit next to you. His own eyes admired the view. He stopped doing stuff like this. Before the outbreak, it was work, work, work to keep a roof over everyone's heads, bring food, and give Sarah the best life that she deserved. After… well, moments like this felt almost forbidden. Not to mention that letting your guard down could get you killed. "Come here," Joel said, nudging your shoulder and wrapping his arm around you. Interactions like that between the two of you were rear but not completely foreign. You two had shared the bed numerous times. Joel had offered you a warm embrace when he saw that the world was close to crushing you. But you had never talked about who you two were or if you were anything more than a bed warmer for one another. "You do know that I would do anything to protect you?", Joel spoke out under his breath, bringing you even closer to him. Your heart skipped a beat as you moved your palm to cup his jaw, leaving a couple of kisses there as you nodded.

"Do you think they were happy when they…", you couldn't bring yourself to finish your sentence as the lump in your throat grew bigger. Joel hummed, "They had each other. That's all Bill and Frank needed". You moved to rest your head on Joel's shoulder. Breathing in both the scent of him and the brisk evening breeze. "Do you ever dream about finding the love they had?", the question was silly, truly, and you knew it. You and your existential questions had pissed Joel off more than once, but for some reason, you never stopped asking them. And for some reason, even through gritted teeth, Joel always answered them. The silence fell between you two for a moment. Joel hesitated to give you an answer. The truth was that the ten years you'd spent by his side had been surreal for him. Even if he constantly pushed you away, no matter the arguments you two would have, he always came back to you. Always. And you never walked away. You were always there waiting for him, even when he quite literally told you to get lost. When you were apart, all Joel could think of, was you. Nothing else mattered. He didn't matter. It was you who swirled around his mind. "Well," the male trailed off, "I've already…" But the door on the patio shot open as Ellie walked out, still looking down at the drawing on the shirt you had found for her.

"Hey, did you know that wild berry soup smells like strawberries?", she beamed till her eyes fell on the two of you. Her face instantly shifted since she had never seen you two this close. Well, she assumed that you might be together, but since she didn't see any grown-up interactions being exchanged, she just pushed that thought to the side. "Shit man, you are together. I was talking shit about him to you," Ellie practically cried out as she raised her hands above her head, making you let out a laugh against Joel's shoulder. "We're not dating, bug", "She talked shite about me?" you and Joel said at the same time. The fact that he had gotten visibly offended by it made you let out another chuckle before you tapped his chest a couple of times.

"Girls have to stick together," you shrugged, and Ellie quickly gave Joel the middle finger. "Okay, enough, you two. Go insane, pick something for dinner, and I'll be right behind you," you said, throwing the blanket you had with at the girl, as ushered Ellie inside. You brushed your hand over Joel's chest as you walked towards the door. Joel's brain screamed at him to catch your hand. To make you stop so he could tell you the words he was meaning to say before Ellie walked in, but he didn't. Only tightening his jaw as his lips thinned into a tight line. He was a fool. A true fool who never truly learned to express himself. If only he could, maybe he would be able to call you his.

Joel's gaze immediately shifted to the window that peaked into the inside of the house once the sound of something falling echoed through the air. You and Ellie were on different sides of the island. The girl had one of those smirks that usually led nowhere good on her face. Then the sound of laughter shot through the space as you took off running to grab hold of whatever Ellie was holding in her hands. The girl squealed as you both ran in circles. "Give me the spaghetti hoops, you little thief!", you yelled, but that only made Ellie laugh more. "I'll tell Joel", you tried to threaten her, but she only let out a huff, "You wouldn't snitch", Ellie narrowed her eyes at you. You quickly hopped onto the island and slid to the other side, taking hold of both of Ellie's hands but losing your balance as you two tumbled to the ground. Joel practically ran inside at the sight of that, the worst scenarios already running wild. He couldn't let you get hurt. Neither of you could get hurt.

Joel rounded the corner, his heart already beating fast. And here you were. Ellie was nearly on top of you as you, as you two stared at each other, both still confused at what had just happened. And then there it was again. The laughter. The whole-hearted laughter drenched Joel's heart dry. Your arms wrapped around Ellie as she giggled away, pressing her cheek against your chest. Joel picked up the can of spaghetti hoops that had rolled off and were long forgotten. "Oh no, daddy is here, and he is mad," Ellie shrieked playfully, not lifting her head away from you. "Don't call me that shit," Joel warned her before slamming the can against the counter. He quickly turned around, running a hand over his face. Your expression clouded as well. Carefully, you helped Ellie stand up. Her eyes were looking at you as if she were silently asking if she had overstepped a boundary, but you just gave her a quick wink before pointing to the pot. In a couple of steps, you reached Joel as your hands ran down his back. His muscles tensed under your touch, but the moment you pressed a kiss in between his shoulder blades, Joel let out a sigh. "How about you take a shower while we heat up the food? Clear your mind and all that?", you continued to draw patterns on his skin. Joel didn't say anything as he stepped away from you and over to the stairs.

"Is he mad with me?", Ellie's voice made you turn to her. Her big eyes watched you as you shook your head. "He… well, Joel struggles with his emotions. He cares a lot, but that ends up overwhelming him, and then this happens," you said softly, Ellie nodded her head as if agreeing with you. You nudged her shoulder gently and asked, "Want to make the whole feast tonight? Get the canned sausages out." The shower was indeed all that Joel needed. The hot water took that extra weight of tension off his shoulders, and the fresh set of clothes made him feel like a new man. He was excellent at ignoring his basic needs, but with you, there was no need to worry about that because you always reminded him about all the little things. Things to made him feel better.

Ellie was delivering joke after joke while you all ate. Her energy was surprisingly high, considering that the last couple of days had been rough. "I'm telling you, he just knows all the jokes", she grumbled when Joel hit the right answer to her fifth joke, defeating the purpose of her performance. Joel's hand had slipped under the table, casually resting on your thigh, and you occasionally gave it a little squeeze as if to ensure him that you were here with him. "Okay, can I try?", you weren't much of a jokester, but everyone knew a joke or two. Ellie nodded her head eagerly. You cleared your throat, "What do you call a fish with a bow tie?" You questioned the two of them, trying not to break into a smile. Ellie shrugged her shoulders. "SoFISHticated," Ellie just gaped at you, but Joel snorted under his breath. Your eyes fall on him in an instant. He shook his head, trying to keep the smile off his face. "You laughed, you fucker," Ellie said, pointing her fork at Joel. "I didn't," Joel argued back, "Yes, you fucking did. Y/N tell him", "Yeah, Joel, I consider that a laugh", you moved your hand to gently rub the back of his neck, and his eyes met yours. He got lost in the depths of them just a bit before another laugh escaped his lips. You bit your lip as you watched him, realizing how much you had missed the sound of that. Since the only time you heard it was when the two of you got shitface drunk, and he fell while trying to take his pants off.

"You can fucking laugh. Dude, you're normal," Ellie beamed, watching Joel chuckle. "Eat your noodles before I take them away," Joel warned, reaching over and scooping some of the spaghetti hoops from Ellie's plate, making her protest straight away. She leaned across the table to do the same, but Joel brushes her spoon away easily. "No playing with the food, you two," you gently warn them, even though you enjoyed watching them interact, especially Joel letting her in. They instantly settle back down, even if they continue to watch one another from the corner of their eyes.

Yeah, this was the closest to home that Joel had gotten in over twenty years. Now all he needed to do was own up to his feelings. Admit to himself that the scary feelings won't disappear. But he was going to be equally scared with you or without your officially being a part of his life. And he had promised Sarah, his little butterfly, that he wasn't going to let this go to waste. And that the three butterflies on your hand were possibly you, Joel, and Ellie; that you were all fated to meet. Maybe you two were sent here to change his life. Teach Joel how to fly again.

[d3wdropz]

DIVINITY: PROLOGUE ~ SUKUNA X READER

a/n okay I'm very excited about this!

I'm planning on splitting up the story into a prologue, fight, smut, then epilogue. I love build-up and world building, not just the smutty stuff, so be prepared for more of a plot w/ porn set up- plans may change though and upload schedule will be chaotic so be prepared

hope you all enjoy!

pairing: True Form! Sukuna x Curse! Fem! Reader

word count: 2.9k

summary: Sukuna is feared and respected, a self-proclaimed "natural calamity". Shrouded in power and mystery, not much is known about him, other than the fact that if you bore him you'll likely face a gruesome demise.

Now where does that leave you? A powerful and new "natural calamity" as Sukuna would say.

content warning: no smut, fem! reader, canon-typical violence, descriptions of violence, blood, death, swearing, kind of anti-hero/villainous reader, canon! sukuna , slightly non-canon setting

credit to @cafekitsune for all the amazing dividers!!!

The Heian Era- a time that would later be recognized as the 'Golden Age of Jujutsu'. A period full of strong sorcerers- and curses.

Yet, no matter their strength, no one stood a chance against the reigning king: Ryomen Sukuna. The very mention of his name sent fear into those who heard it. While he stayed on top of the food chain, there was nothing to be done.

If a village wanted a chance at survival, they had expectations to uphold.

First: respect and fear the King of Curses. Even if he's miles away, when he is spoken of, it should be with care and respect. No one is sure if it's true, but there are tales of villagers speaking of Lord Sukuna in a lowly manner- only for them to be cut in-half before they could finish.

Second: his arrival should be met with offerings and praise. Not to feed his ego, but to give him a reason not to burn a town to the ground. If, for some terrible reason, a village has Sukuna housed within it, he is to be treated like a God. Anything less would mean the death of hundreds, such an easy act that Sukuna would do it with his eyes closed.

The third, and final, rule: everyone is beneath him. No one is allowed to look him in the eye, talk to him, or even breath too close to him. Weaklings are expected to know their place. If they forget, Lord Sukuna happily reminds them of his strength by crushing their windpipe with one of his four hands.

No village has ever really strayed from these rules after they were made- not if they wanted to live. Due to this, Sukuna's arrivals come with a sort of schedule: an invitation made in hopes of gaining his favor, offering and celebration preparation, the 'festivities', and finally, his departure.

The latest, pitiful town Sukuna has found himself in is in their third stage. He's seated comfortably on a pedestal of sorts, with Uraume close by. If Sukuna were to be honest, he finds these kind of events boring and tacky. He can't help but sneer when he looks into a sea of sad, lowly, humans giving him hollow praise to stay alive.

As Sukuna sits in his head, he thinks that maybe he endures this because there's nothing better to do. Pillaging and bloodshed isn't fun if don't give yourself the chance to relax, ready yourself for the next venture.

Another perk of being invited to these celebrations: hearing gossip. It's no surprise that Sukuna is not a very social man, and Uraume is no better when they spend all of their time with him. So these short instances give him a chance to hear the latest news.

It's not like he would be ignorant to anything if he truly wanted to know. He just finds more excitement in finding things out when villagers whisper their gossip to one another- it also gives him something to do.

Lucky for him, the townspeople are bustling with news. Their voices are full of fear and concern. They try to hide it, try to keep Sukuna's attention on the various gifts they offer him. It's not enough, sadly, and he's becoming intrigued.

This distress isn't being caused by him, from what he can hear and tell. None of them have verified or given a name to what is on their minds, so Sukuna decides to wait it out.

Night falls by the time Sukuna finally knows what's going on. By now, the offerings have been made, the praises have been given, and this meant it was time for him to take his leave. Both him and Uraume can see the sweat bead on the elder's heads as Sukuna remains seated.

Uraume is confused as well, but is wise enough to not question or make a fuss- Sukuna does as he pleases, sometimes with no rhyme or reason. Their job is to serve him, and right now that meant refilling his cup.

Just as he's about to call it a night, fed up with waiting for something interesting to happen, Sukuna hears it. Some young, quiet girl was speaking with her friend as they cleaned up. Their conversation was of some new curse- 'if you could call her that' as they said- was causing chaos in a neighboring village.

As Sukuna continued to listen, the girl shared more. She informed her friend that the curse seemed to appear out of nowhere, one that no one recognized. The rumors are that she looks human, beautiful even! But she's really a cold-hearted monster. When her companion scoffs and claims this to be false, that if this were true more people would know about it, the girl argues back. She explains that this has all happened within the span of a day or two.

Sukuna quirks his brow, slightly surprised by this news. He didn't sense any new cursed energy, at least to the extent that this girl is speaking of. If some curse were to be close by with this much power, he would know. But, it would bring some much-needed entertainment if this rumor were to be true.

Just as Sukuna was about to rise from his seated position, he felt something shift. It was as if a balance inside of him tilted. He tensed up and looked to the source, sensing it's placement. Uraume turned to the direction, having picked up on the intrusion as well.

Within seconds, a shriek was heard. It was quickly cut off by the sound of clatters. The shift Sukuna felt morphed into a detection of cursed energy just as the scream died.

As if the yell was some kind of alarm, the village quickly fell into disarray as people ran away. Families held each other tight as they rushed to the center of town, right where Sukuna was seated.

He watched as their determined faces fell, filling with fear and despair as they were met with the sight of the King of Curses. It was easy to see that the villagers were now stuck between two deadly curses, having to chose which death they'd prefer.

Without hesitation, Uraume calmly creates a rush of ice that destroys all of the obstacles between them and the curse that's entered the village- leaving behind a small pile of dead bodies. It was a simple and effective move, the opponent is caught off-guard and usually frozen in the ice. Oftentimes Uraume freezes the curse until they're veins are frozen solid, an easy victory.

So Uraume is left shocked when they watch the ice fly back towards them. It's wasn't too fast, they're able to create a wall that protects both them and Sukuna. They try to analyze the curse, but it's hard to see them through the ice.

Before Uraume could speak, a joyful laugh rang through the silent village. To any human, it sounded innocent and childish. But Sukuna and his attendent knew better, they sensed the power oozing from the curse, the malice behind that laugh.

With his interest peaked, Sukuna stood up, towering over the wall of ice after he cuts it away. He's left intrigued for the second time that night when he sees a woman standing before him, now only about 300 feet away.

She looks to be about 20, but appearances can't be trusted when dealing with immortal cursed spirits. Her body is adorned in a loosely fitting, silk robe. It's large and ill-fitted on her, falling off one shoulder, showing off soft skin. There are unmistakable dots and splashes of blood that stain the front of the pristine and bright fabric.

Her laughter dies down as she wipes away a tear. When she looks up, her eyes lock onto one pair of Sukuna's. An amused smile spreads on her face as she stands tall.

"Well, I knew there was something interesting here. I could feel it," she spoke carelessly, twirling a strand of hair and cocking her head to the side, "I didn't think it would be this fun."

By now, the rest of the villagers have snuck away. This left an empty town, with only the sounds of fire crackling and the curses to fill the night.

Sukuna can hear Uraume sneer, disgusted by the disrespect coming from this uncivilized curse, "Have some decorum." Their voice is full of malice, as they ready for another attack.

Deciding to take this chance to observe the curse in front of him, Sukuna doesn't stop Uraume from using Frost Calm. He watches as the cold air quickly makes it way to their adversary. Both curses are left confused as the blast is halted just inches away from the woman's face.

The smile is quickly replaced by a glare and disgusted look. She glances at them, giving the Frost Calm in front of her little thought, "I didn't come here to fight some insignificant, little snowflake."

With that, she sent the attack right back at Uraume. This time, it was different. It was faster, more concentrated, and dripping with an immense amount of cursed energy. Left with no time to react, the smaller curse is sent flying backwards and into some buildings. Their impact is made worse as the ice encases them.

"Compared to the sheer amount of cursed energy you exude, that little pebble was nothing," the woman takes a few steps forward. Only now does Sukuna notice just how unproperly done her robe is. As soon as the binding at her waist ends, there's a large slit that reveals her legs, just short enough to hide her more intimate parts. Even with a lack of shoes, her feet and legs seem to be clean- in fact everything about her seems to be unblemished except for the blood. It leaves the Cursed King confused, but he easily drops it.

If Sukuna wasn't busy observing her and trying to figure out what exactly her cursed technique was, he would find her attire humorous and immature. It reminded him of Yorozu, her naked introduction still recent. A quick thought crosses his mind: is it some new trend for female curses to walk around half-naked? He knows he has no room to speak but at least he wears proper pants.

Coming out of his thoughts, Sukuna lifts his head and smirks ever-so slightly, "You're one to talk, woman."

Anyone could tell that this lady is a talker, and she returns his smile with a mischievous one of her own. "I wouldn't know, I'm new here," she stretches, raising her arms above her head, "All I know is that when I sense something strong- like you- I find it-" her eyes seem to shimmer as she stares into his own crimson ones, "and I take it."

With a little more time to stare into her eyes, Sukuna was able to detect what that excited gleam was: hunger. Some part of him felt a shiver run down his spin when she licked her lips and lowered her arms, "The stronger they are, the better they taste."

This leaves Sukuna chuckling under his breath, willing to humor her, "Aw, so that's it," in an instant, Sukuna is right in front of the woman, towering over her, "you're a dumb little thing that just came to life, hungry for power."

She held her ground, staring up at him confidently with a sort of excitement in her eyes, "I wouldn't say I'm dumb," in retaliation to his attempt at intimidation, she quickly pokes his chest. It was a gentle movement, something he wouldn't have even noticed. If it wasn't for the shocking strength he felt as he was forced to lean back. "but you would be right about the other thing, I just came to be about three days ago."

For any other curse, they would have been sent flying a few meters back. If she were to have used that move on a human, their chest would have been shot open from the force. This interested her even more as she took a simple hop back, only for her to fly high into the air. She then sat herself on a nearby roof, leaning her head on her knees.

"You're the most interesting thing I've found, none of the others could talk, or lasted that move," she grinned down at Sukuna.

Both of them knew this was just banter. The fighting hasn't quite commenced yet. They seemed too invested in the other, neither ready to kill and miss out on this opportunity to chat.

Sukuna glances up at her, crossing a pair of his arms, "Is that meant to impress me, woman?"

She only gives him a cheeky smile, "Not at all, I can tell that you're powerful, feared. Something like that would do nothing to sway you from fighting me." She closes her eyes thoughtfully, "I am curious as to who you are, you'll be the first thing I've ever cared enough to remember the name of. The first. . . 'curse'- if what the humans call me is true- that makes me need to try out my abilities."

His excitement only intensifies- this woman is something else. Sukuna can tell that this battle will be one for him to remember. It won't be simple, one-sided, and consist of him using his cleave to destroy his enemy in a second. He'll really get to go all out, get to have fun.

A rumble reverberates in his chest, a chuckle, "I'm your king, woman." Sukuna slicks his hair back out from his vision, smirking at and teasing the younger curse which only grows as she furrows her brows in anger.

She raises her hand lazily, keeping it level to her head, "You're getting annoying." The woman thinks for a second, before a smile graced her face, as if a light-bulb went off. She stands up from her seated position and jumps to the ground.

Out of annoyance, and some respect for her confidence, Sukuna averts his eyes from her figure as the wind blows her robe about. It doesn't reveal much, and Sukuna might be a tyrant, but he still likes to think of himself as a chivalrous adversary.

When she's on the ground again, she walks right up to him again. Her hands a clasped in front of her, joyfully. In any other circumstance, she would be a puddle of blood for getting this close to the King of Curses. But, Sukuna must admit that her presence has provided him entertainment for the night. So he allows it.

"I know! If I beat you, you'll tell me your name. If you win, I'll tell you mine. I'd love to continue this conversation, as you're the most fascinating thing I've come across in my short life. But- I'm itching to have a little fun." Sukuna listens to her ramble, rolling his eyes at her proposition.

Now, Sukuna can't help but find this plain hilarious. This stupid, little curse is making a simple bet and placing her life on the line. He could almost smack her on the back of her head from how absurd it sounds- but, if he were to agree, he'd get to truly see her abilities.

With a lop-sided grin, Sukuna extends his hand, imbuing it with cursed energy in preparation for the binding vow. He watches as confusion washes onto her face as she stares at his hand.

"What are you doing?" her voice is laced with frustration and bewilderment.

His brows raise before he lets out an exasperated sigh, "I forgot you're new- this" he nods his head to his hand "is a binding vow. It's a promise made with cursed energy that requires us to fulfill it. In this instance, it makes you're silly deal something that must be upheld."

She nods in understanding, taking an extra second to study his hand. She then shakes it, both of them taking a second to feel the difference in hand sizes. Hers is dwarfed within his, practically invisible when held in Sukuna's. This brief touch is also a chance for them to feel the others cursed energy on a closer level, more personal.

From what Sukuna could pick up on, before he dropped her hand, was that this wouldn't be an easy fight. He's both put on edge and roused by the amount of cursed energy coursing through her veins. What makes it even better is that she's completely unaware of the power she's holding.

He can't wait to be the person that forces her to unlock it.

The two take a few simple steps back. Sukuna grips his kamutoke in one hand, readying for battle. The woman, on the other hand, stands gleefully in place. She has no weapon, isn't readying any chants or dances, hell- she doesn't even look serious.

Even with her immature behavior, the female curse looks her enemy in the eyes with an intensity Sukuna's only seen in few. She puts her hands on her hips and tilts her head, "Ready?"

Sukuna nods with content, watching from the corner of his eye as Uraume finally begins to make their way over again. The look he shoots them is enough for the servant to realize this wasn't something for them to interfere in. Instead, they stand in the background, ready to jump in whenever their master needed.

As both curses begin to emit immense amounts of cursed energy in preparation for the fight, Uraume can't help but notice a new emotion reflect in Sukuna's gaze. It's something they've never seen him express before, though most ordinary people usually experience it many times. It leaves them confused and wondering what the hell conspired while they were incapacitated.

The thing that's left Uraume stumped, that's making it's first appearance in the Cursed King's eyes, is admiration.

Admiration for the curse that's about to battle with him to the death.

final notes okay! wow- i'm sorry this took so long! i'm happy to get this ball rolling though, be prepared for some fighting and more explanation in the next part!

oh- also i hope sukuna isn't too ooc in this- it's hard to get that guy down!

hope you enjoyed!

[queenshelby]

An Illicit Affair

Part 26: Hurt

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

An hour later...

An hour later, when Lucy arrived at the Hospital for her shift, she was met by one of the other doctors who informed her about the accident. Lucy's heart sank as the details of the incident came flooding in. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"The car drove off, and they haven't been able to identify the driver yet," the doctor told her. "We've done everything we can for her, but her injuries are severe. She lost a lot of blood, and she went into shock. We're trying to stabilize her, but it's not going to be easy."

Lucy's mind raced as she made her way to the trauma unit. "Where is she?" Lucy demanded, her voice sharp and urgent. She had not been on shift when the accident happened, but instead was given the news as soon as she arrived at the cancer ward. She couldn't believe that you, her best friend, had been hit by a car and the thought of it made her stomach twist with anxiety and fear.

"She's in surgery right now," the doctor replied gently. "We contacted her parents and her local next of kin who arrived a few minutes ago," the doctor went on to say and Lucy nodded curtly, her thoughts racing. 

"And her parents?" Lucy asked , concern lacing her voice.

"They are on their way from Liverpool,"  the doctor responded, his voice heavy with empathy. "It will take them a while to get here. In the meantime, we'll do everything we can to keep her alive."

Lucy nodded, her throat tightening with emotion. She couldn't lose you, not like this. Not after everything you had been through already. She knew that your life had not been an easy one, but you had always faced your challenges with strength and resilience.

And now, here you were, lying on a hospital bed, fighting for your life.

"I need to see her. I can't work today. I need to be with her. I am sorry," Lucy  interjected, her voice filled with urgency and emotion. "I'll stay with her until her parents arrive," Lucy promised, although the doctor looked dubious.

"Are you sure? I can arrange for a counselor to come and speak with you if you need to talk," the doctor offered kindly, and Lucy nodded.

"Thank you, but I just need to be there for my friend right now," Lucy replied, wiping away a stray tear that had escaped from her eye.

After making her way to the ER, she checked in with one of the nurses who informed Lucy that you were still in surgery. The doctor attending was one of the best  in the hospital, which only slightly helped to alleviate her worry as she sat in the waiting room, her thoughts consumed by you and the what ifs that tormented her.

"Lucy, how are you?" a familiar voice soon said, causing Lucy to look up from where she was sitting. To her suprise, it was Max who had approached her.

"Max," Lucy replied, taken aback. She hadn't expected to see him here, especially given the circumstances. "What are you doing here?" she asked, surprise making her voice barely above a whisper.

"The hospital called me," he told her quickly and with a lack of concern for your wellbeing. "Apparently I am listed as her next of kin," Max then said, sounding surprised.

Lucy's heart clenched, but she took a deep breath and stood up, choosing to focus on Max for the moment. "No, no, no," she shook her head. "You have no reason to be here, but your dad does. Did you call him?" Lucy asked, thinking that Cillian should be here rather than Max.  The situation was dire, and the only person that should be by your side was someone who you truly cared for, not someone who was holding a grudge against you.

Max shook his head. "No, I haven't called him. I haven't spoken to him much since that day when I found out about...you know," Max said stiffly, avoiding the subject of your affair with his father altogether. "Fuck, why do you even know about it? Jesus Christ!" Max cursed, running a hand through his short, spiky hair.

"I know about it because Y/N is my best friend," Lucy explained, her voice gentle yet firm. "And look," Lucy sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I know things are tense between you and your father right now, but this isn't the time for petty squabbles. You need to call him!"  Lucy insisted, trying to keep her voice level and calm, despite the panic that was building inside her. "This is serious, Max. Your dad needs to know what's happened to Y/N. He needs to be here for her," she said, her voice growing more urgent.

Max looked at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "I don't think so. Fuck him!"  Max finally retorted, his voice low and angry. "He doesn't deserve to know anything about Y/N! Not after what he's done! Do you have any idea what it's like to find out that the two people you love in very different ways have been screwing behind your back? Do you know the pain and the betrayal I felt in that moment?" Max demanded, his voice rising as he spoke.

Lucy sighed heavily, her frustration mounting. "Of course, I know how much this hurts you, Max. But this is not about you right now and if you did actually love Y/N, then you would put aside your grudge and make sure that she has your father by her side right now!"  Lucy snapped, suddenly losing her temper, not caring about Max's personal feelings.

Max opened his mouth to argue but stopped when he noticed the look on Lucy's face. He saw the anger and frustration in her eyes, but he also saw something else - a deep and abiding concern for you.

"If you are so worried about it all, then why don't you call him?"  Max finally said, his tone challenging.

"I don't have his fucking number you eejit!"  Lucy exclaimed, throwing her hands up in frustration. She knew she was being harsh, but she couldn't help it. The thought of you lying in a hospital bed, alone and without the people you loved, was too much to bear and, just as the argument reached a breaking point, the attending doctor came out of the operating room.

His expression was serious, his brow furrowed with concern. Lucy's heart rate quickened as she waited for him to speak.

"We've done everything we can for now," the doctor said, his tone measured and calm. "One of her kidneys was badly damaged and we had to remove it. Her leg was also shattered in several places, and she will need further surgery to attend these fractures. The damage done to her right leg may be permanent. She also experienced extensive blood loss and a rather severe concussion.  All that said, she's in stable condition now and will likely survive, but she remains unconscious, and we cannot yet determine the long-term effects of her injuries."

Lucy's heart clenched, panic shooting through her at the doctor's words. You, her closest friend, had been through so much already and she couldn't bear the thought of you facing even more hardship. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, her vision becoming blurry with emotion.

"We need her next of kin to sign off on the procedures to her right leg while she remains unconscious. There are several options, all of which have risks involved," the doctor explained , his gaze flicking to Max, who still looked shell-shocked by what the doctor had told you both.

Lucy turned to Max, her eyes imploring him. There was no way he could or should be making a decision like this.

"Her parents are on their way. They should be about two or three hours away, depending on traffic and, although Y/N isn't exactly close to them..." Lucy began to say to the doctor in a wavering voice, but the doctor was quick to interrupt her. 

"I am afraid that we cannot wait that long. She will lose her leg if we do and then the only choice still available to her would be amputation," the doctor informed you in a grave tone and Lucy couldn't help but feel a fresh wave of despair wash over her. "Despite, she listed you as her next of kin," the doctor then said to Max, looking at him expectantly just before Lucy interrupted. "You are Maximillian Murphy, right?" he asked, causing Max to nod. 

"Yes, and she listed him by mistake!" she interjected. "He is not her next of kin. It should be her partner, not him. He cannot make this decision for her," Lucy asserted with a firm tone, turning to Max.

"Please, Max. You need to call your dad and get him here. Y/N wouldn't want you making these decisions for her," Lucy continued, her voice insistent.

Max looked at Lucy for a long moment, his gaze unwavering. "I can't do that, Lucy. You know I can't," he said, his voice low.

"Why not?" Lucy demanded, throwing her hands up in frustration. "Surely you can put your differences aside for one moment for the sake of a person's life?" she argued again, causing the doctor to look at them with confusion as yet another argument broke out.

"Listen, I am going to call her parents and see if we can come to an agreement over the phone. I will do my best to explain the situation and options to them," the doctor said, seeing that Max's authority to make decision had just been disputed by another staff member.

"No," Lucy objected. "That's not necessary," she then added, raising more confusion. "I can make the decisions," Lucy then offered quickly but the doctor shook his head.

"No Lucy, you can't. It's the next of kin who has the right to make and dispute medical decisions, failing which the parents and siblings can decide," the doctor interjected, explaining the law to her, but Lucy couldn't care less at this point.

"Why can't her parents decide?" Max  asked, rubbing his temples as the stress of the situation began to settle in.

"Because there is a reason Y/N did not nominate a family member to be her next of kin. They are religious and their particular religion does not approve of certain life-saving medical procedures," Lucy continued, her voice pleading and full of emotion. 

"Please, just call your dad, Max. I know things are strained, but Y/N needs him here right now. He has the maturity and intellect to make an informed decision for her and, besides, he would be the one carrying the burden of making that decision too which is a burden you do not want to have," Lucy said, trying to appeal to Max's sense of logic and reason.

Tags:

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[a-998h]

Could I request one about Golden Wind (All live) that Male!Silly!Reader for some reason (script for fun) has Diavolo's stand?

Reader using KC to get candy from display cases or just skip classes he found boring

Reader: Oh, what a wonderful day with this obsessive spirit!

*Giorno and the gang watching the 10 seconds pass out of nowhere* He's is alive!?

Reader is the complete opposite of Diavolo in appearance and personality, being someone extroverted, who loves to talk about his own life and being a loving person that everyone wants to be around but having the most discreet appearance possible

Reader hears telephones sounds but he never answers. He loves nature or anything cute, often making KC "borrow" plushs from stores to put in his room

Bonus if Reader, when he sleeps, ends up dreaming about Diavolo cursing him for using "their" stand in such a childish way. For Reader Diavolo is just another obsessive spirit that this time appears when he sleeps. (This bonus part is additional ^-^ don't feel pressured to do the whole request. I'm glad to hear you're improving)

(Sorry if any part is confusing, English is not my native language 😓)

TW: MENTIONS OF ALCOHOLISM, AND 100% PLATONIC YANDERE DOPPIO AND DIAVOLO!

Before Giorno, but after Trish Doppio was walking the streets of Italy. Doppio walked past one of Passione's clubs. He passed by, but heard someone crying. Looking over, he saw you dragging your parent home. The bleeding heart he was, he felt so bad for you.

Everytime Doppio talked or saw you, your similar determination to Diavolo was clear. Diavolo, looking through Doppio's eyes, saw you as a good kid. Things would go your way as you now had two new mafia dad's. You never knew about them or that they were there.

You got older and Diavolo trusted you in the care of Team Bucciarati, until they decided to betray him. When Team Bucciarati stood against him, he made plans to get you back from the traitors. Sending Unità Speciale, he brought you to what he thought of as your rightful home. Doppio was your main caretaker, keeping you happy.

Team Bucciarati promised to find you, thinking that you were in danger. Diavolo didn't care, he would kill them and you would be his forever.

This failed, and the fused pair were killed. Not willing to let his kingdom go, Diavolo and Doppio only had one shot to stay with you and give Passione a chance are rebirth. Golden Arrow pendant in hand, Diavolo's final action is putting King Crimson into it, leaving a piece of him with you.

Now, you don't know this. You're just happy with your new family, your "obsessive spirit" friend, and the man who visits your dreams.

The others started noticing strange things happening around you. It start with that Saturday Trish took you to the mall with her.

It was a normal shopping trip for the two of you. Soon, you saw a small candy you loved. But you didn't have enough for it. Trish saw you out of the corner of her eye an then... 10 seconds were gone.

Similar events happened with the others, they were scared and on edge.

Giorno used security because he thought, maybe, just maybe, Diavolo survived. They knew about his obsession with you, so they got scared Diavolo would come back to steal you back. This paranoia made them even more protective of you, but you somehow remained oblivious to the whole situation.

Though, sometimes at night a man with pink and green poka dot hair would say stuff like, "Candy, Candy?! You wasted power on something so childish!" Or "You'll be ruler of Passione, if you use King Crimson the right way!"

While the living family of yours loves your silliness, it drives Diavolo mad. To Diavolo, you're supposed to be using King Crimson to bring back the kingdom of Passione but instead you waste that power of "frivolous" things, like candy and stuffed animals.

[gynnnicsworld]

For you, what is the season in which you knew that sterek were a real thing? For me it was throughout S3A. Or at least there was something really important going on between them...

I mean, I've been a shipper of them since the first meeting but where I definitely took sterek as my banner was during S3A.

I really love the theme of parallels between Stiles and Jennifer because it basically confirms sterek for us. And there's so much to explore there, I really don't understand why 3A doesn't get enough recognition.

3B is probably everyone's favorite season, I'm pretty sure of that, or a favorite, but 3A needs to be thoroughly analyzed 👁️

The thing is that in 3A there are so many themes that we can explore, like the absurdly obvious parallels between Jennifer and Stiles😩.I'll never really be able to get over the fact that they used the whole Stiles/Derek dynamic with Jennifer/Derek, and that Jennifer seemed to fear Stiles?

Because it's really interesting how Jennifer avoided being around Stiles or prevented Stiles and Derek from being in the same place when she was there.I think there were only two times when Stiles and Derek were in the same room when she was there, the first during Boyd's death and she stayed away, while Stiles went to give his support to Derek and Jennifer was just "shocked"... And the other time was when Derek chose to believe Stiles over her.

I have to organize my thoughts but I really want to talk about this, because I have the energy right now. So sorry if this is a bit messy 😔

Okay, it's pretty much a fact that Jennifer was using this nervous, clumsy demeanor, and she was actually imitating Stiles' entire personality with Derek. But why? Because Jennifer's goal was to bewitch Derek, to have him somehow at her mercy and control, and to do that she had to get under Derek's skin.

And let's get something straight, even if Derek didn't know it and wasn't yet aware of the fact that Stiles is his anchor, Stiles was already under Derek's skin (for whatever reason). So Jennifer had to follow this line, Stiles was already something important to Derek and if she wants to get closer to Derek the best way to do it is to give him something that he is familiar with and something he's already comfortable with and somehow has his guard down.

And what is that? (In case it's not clear; Stiles) she presented herself to Derek with this behavior that he was already familiar with. even the part of the Stls/Drk relationship where they are both always arguing or fighting or Derek is intimidating to Stiles, even that Jennifer imitated. (if you don't believe me you can go see for yourself, from the first meeting between Jennifer and Derek there was this dynamic like the one Drk/stils have)

Okay moving on, the personality theft that Jennifer did to Stiles wasn't enough (haha) so similar parallel events also happened, remember that time where Derek went to Stiles for help? I mean the one in the car, where Derek told Stiles he was going to rip out his throat? Something similar happens between Jennifer and Derek. [Except the throat part, we all know that's something unique and special between Derek and Stiles 😌 that not even a curse can imitate.]

Okay, more things happen, but Jennifer actually already put Derek under some kind of spell, that makes him do whatever she says, like she made him not inform Scott that he was still alive... Why do I mention this? Because this fucking matters, let's say things between them keep moving forward, etc. And Derek is increasingly under her control, or well under her spell, until the day Stiles and Scott tell him that Jennifer is the darach...

And I really want us to think about this, because I don't remember it ever happening that Derek breaks his spell...or well something happens...Which I personally take as the reason why Jennifer didn't want Derek and Stiles to be in the same place while she is, because Stiles is the one who was able to break the influence that she has on Derek.

Let's remember this moment where Stiles asks her where his dad is , and Stiles has his eyes full of tears and revealing sadness, worry and vulnerability. And Jennifer mocks him by saying how the hell would she know that, it's not like she can go out and murder people on her lunch break (or something like that). And she tells Derek that he can't believe them.

Then we have this shot of Derek looking at Scott and Stiles, but it's obvious who Derek has his gaze focused on...And Boom! Right there Derek believes Stiles (and Scott).

And Jennifer stops pretending, etc etc.

For me that was the moment where any influence Jennifer may have had on Derek ended and she knew it.

I really love that season because basically all Jennifer did until the end was play a personality type like Stiles, and Derek fell for that 😩...I can only say that whatever Derek felt for Stiles, it was already tremendously strong.

Well I lost my train of thought, so I'll end here, but please share your thoughts and opinions with me here 🤍 Stiles and Derek really liked each other too much and the fools didn't even realize 😭

[amiserableseriesofevents]

Hi! If you have no other clegan requests, then I would like this:

"good. now you know what it's like."

(prompt list by @novelbear  - reactions to making someone cry)

Hello dear! I haven't forgotten about you, I just had to sort out and post Chapter 14 of Such stuff before diving into this 🥰 I hope you'll enjoy the angst 😗

1.9k of Angst, Emotional Hurt/No Comfort below the cut

Major Gale Cleven marries his longtime sweetheart, Marjorie Spencer, less than a month after his return to the US after the war. The bride is splendid and radiant and the groom looks as handsome as ever in his uniform — no one needs to know that it doesn't feel right anymore on his body, that the belt's been latched two holes tighter than before the war, that he still feels cold even if it's summer and he's dressed in wool.

Major John Egan, Cleven's best friend, is absolutely charming in his role of best man. He flirts with bridesmaids and old ladies alike, dances dutifully with all the bride's friends that ask him, he laughs, and drinks only a few glasses of whiskey to celebrate — no one needs to know that his hands keep shaking whenever he tries to stay still, that there's a flask tucked into his breast pocket filled with nasty liquor that makes his eyes water every time he takes a sip from it, that his heart is bleeding in his chest for the same exact reason he should be celebrating today.

The bride asks him for a toast, at some point. John forces himself to ignore the spark of worry in the blue depth of the groom's eyes as he stands, clears his throat and raises a glass.

He tells the wedding party tales about the groom. How he once landed a plane with all four engines busted. How he once danced with a dog while completely sober at a party. How he never used to drink anything stronger than a ginger beer but had to take care of drunk comrades too many times to count — and he knows that pretty well, him being the drunk comrade Gale would always take care of. How he is the best man sweet Marge could possibly wish for cause he never gave up on the thought of being reunited with her, not even in the darkest of times.

(What he doesn't say: how the groom had kissed him the night after that nightmare of a flight to Algeria, a kiss with blood and desperation in their mouths, a kiss that had made John feel alive for the first time in months.

How him dancing with Meatball was actually a weird way for Gale to apologize to John for having refused his invitation to go to London together, because he knew what John wanted to do and he wasn't ready to give that to him yet — nevermind all the other kisses they'd shared in abandoned haylofts and dark corner, nevermind all those times they'd found comfort in each other's bodies, nevermind that John had almost sunk on his knees and begged him to go, right there, in front of everyone.

How John had almost drunk himself to death the day Buck went down, and when that didn't kill him he'd driven a jeep drunk out of his mind and then tried to stay on his burning plane to be blown out of the sky and go back to the man he loved.

How his Buck never gave up on the thought of marrying Marge, not even in the darkest days of a bleak German winter, but that didn't stop him to find comfort once again in Bucky's arms, in his mouth, along the sharp lines of his body, between his shaky legs.

How he knows with excruciating precision every sound the groom will make tonight during his wedding night, every whimper and moan, every shaky breath, every whispered curse and breathy laugh.)

John tries to leave the wedding without even saying goodbye but Gale knows him too well. He catches up with him in the parking lot, thanks him wearily for his beautiful toast.

“I forgot to add one thing,” John tells him, because now he really doesn't have anything left to lose. “That I love you, more than anything in the world.”

Gale doesn't say anything back to him, maybe he hopes the sadness in his eyes will be enough.

It's not. John leaves, and doesn't look back.

—

The happy marriage between Gale and Marjorie Cleven crumbles apart in less than one year.

They'll say it was because of the war, that Gale didn't come back as he was before and they couldn't work out anymore.

They'll say it was because of the children, Marge wanted them but Gale never seemed sure enough to actually try, fearing he'd unlock something ugly buried deep inside him, the venom of his father dripping through.

They'll never tell the truth: Gale is in love with someone else. Marge doesn't know who — she had a hunch, but Gale refused to listen to her trying to talk about that, said she wouldn't understand because she wasn't there, she doesn't know. Still, she rightfully refuses to play second fiddle in her own wedding; she gives him the ring back, packs a suitcase and goes home to her parents.

Gale goes home too; not to Casper, Wyoming, nor in South Dakota. He drives a whole day and a whole night to Manitowoc, Wisconsin. To the only place he's ever truly felt at home: with John.

He doesn't have an address so he asks around town if anyone knows where Major Egan lives. A nice lady points him to where the the Egans are staying; Gale doesn't think too much of that weird plural, he figures John's still with his mom and sister as he thinks about what to do after.

He rings the doorbell, practicing in his mind what he's going to tell John once he sees him again.

It's a blonde woman that opens the door, tall and with piercing blue eyes but not the same shade of John's — not his sister, Gale's mind provides.

She looks equally surprised to see him. “Can I help you, Sir?” She asks.

Gale goes through the motions. “Good morning, Ma'am. I'm sorry to disturb you, I'm looking for Major John Egan. We served together, I was passing by and wanted to say hello.”

The woman smiles at his words, almost relieved. “Of course! Any friend of Bucky is welcome here. Bucky! There's someone at the door for you.”

“If it's the pastor I swear I'm going to tell him-” John's familiar voice echoes through the narrow entryway behind the woman as he walks to the door, adjusting his tie, but the words die on his lips as he sees Gale staring right back at him. “Buck,” he says, voice full of wonder and for a second Gale still thinks it's going to be ok. Then the curve of John's mouth sharpens, the surprise sours in his eyes.

“Buck Cleven, what are you doing here?” He asks him, tone wrong, posture tense.

“I was passing through and thought about stopping by,” Gale says, glad now more than ever to have left his duffle bag in the car. “How are you? It's been a while.”

“It sure has,” John says. “I've been good, thank you Buck.” Then his gaze shifts to the woman, like he's just now noticing her here. “Oh, what a disgrace I am! I forgot to properly introduce you two. Jo, this is Buck, one of my best pals from the war. Buck, this is Jo. My wife.”

Those two words lodge themselves into Gale's heart.

“Oh. I didn't know you got married, congratulations", he tells John, voice strangled, hands fisted at his sides.

“Yeah, it's been a short engagement but what can I say, when you know you know, right Buck?”

Gale nods. “Right. Well, I better go now, I don't want to make you late for work. Jo, it's been a pleasure to meet you,” he says, and retreats to his car. He hears hushed voices behind him and tries to walk faster, but the door closes and John reaches him just before he can open the door to his car.

“Buck,” John says again, harsher this time. “Buck, look at me.”

Gale exhales and turns. “What?” He asks, chin raised in defiance.

“Why are you here?”

“Marge left. We couldn't make it work, the war changed too many things. It changed me, too much,” Gale says then he adds, “She knew.”

“She knew what?”

“That I'm in love with someone else. That I'm in love with you,” Gale spits out, cheeks getting hotter and hotter by the minute. It's getting harder to breathe and to keep the stinging in his eyes at bay; he fails, John's face in front of him suddenly blurry.

“Are you crying?” John asks. When Gale doesn't answer, he talks again. “Good. Now you know what it's like.”

“Did you marry her just to spite me?” Gale asks, outraged. “Were you just waiting for me to cave?”

“No, Buck. I married her because she's a nice woman, she treats me well, and she doesn't really care if I had someone else before or during the war.”

“She fucking looks like me.”

“That's a plus,” John admits. “She's also a pilot, so. And she's my wife, and we've been talking about building a family.”

“And what about me?”

“What?”

“What about the fact that I fucking love you?” Gale almost shouts, remembering at the last second that they're not alone in the world — there's also Bucky's wife, apparently, and their neighbors. The words come out of him in a strangled whisper, more tears now running freely down his cheeks.

John laughs. “You know, I could do exactly what you did when I told you that at your wedding. But I know what that felt like, so I won't. I'm going to tell you things exactly how they are: I loved you, I loved you so much. You broke my heart and moved on, and I had to move on too. I have a wife, I love her. I love you less, but I still love you. There's no place in my life for you, not now, not like this.”

Gale feels like he's breathing molten led, not air. “And what am I supposed to do?” He asks.

There's sadness in John's eyes now, and something too akin to love not to make Gale's heart ache. “I don't know, Buck. You'll have to figure it out. It's better this way, I promise.”

“But I love you,” Gale tries again. This time, John yields and hugs him.

“I love you too,” he murmurs in Gale's ear. “But we cannot make it work. I am so sorry, Buck, so fucking sorry.”

It's not your fault, Gale thinks. It's mine.

He extricates himself from John's hold. “There's nothing to be sorry about,” he mumbles. “I'll be fine. And if you ever need me for something, anything, you just have to call, ok? Anything, I mean it.”

(What he doesn't say: if you ever get tired of her, if you ever want to pick things back up from where we left them, if you ever feel lonely or bored one day, call me and I'll be there, waiting for you, atoning the sin of having let you go.)

John's always read him like an open book. “Thank you, Buck. I'll see ya,” he says, and goes back to his house — to his wife.

But Gale reads him perfectly too, and he knows one thing for sure: sooner or later, he'll be back.

Now it's his turn to sit and wait.

[astroyongie]

For the angst blurb! Seonghwa please ?🫶🏻

-> warnings: seonghwa x reader, established relationship, mentions of addiction (benzos), angst, cursing, mentions of suicide

"I don’t know what you are talking about." Seonghwa said as he heard you yapping for the 10th time that day. 

Tiredness painted his face, the soft purple tainted his under eye and his lips were shattered. Seonghwa’s black hair fell over his eyes, as he ignored the piece of paper that you had slid in front of him. 

-30 dollars on monday, -86 on tuesday and -274 yesterday. All from your bank account. He knew he was fucked, when he saw the paper from the bank. Money he had stolen from you, in order to feed his own addiction. He scratched his covered arm, anxiety raising.  

“What did you do with the money?” you asked, rage flicking inside your iris. 

“Fuck” he cursed out, running his fingers through his hair, sighing loudly. His eyes were half lidded, and he was too high to even have this conversion with you right now. But there was no reason to lie to you.

“You know i need those pills, babe”

“You need to pay me back, Seonghwa'' Your voice was strong yet it dripped with sadness and frustration. Seonghwa groaned again, scratching his arm. “This money was supposed to pay for my tuition!”

“I will pay you back”

“Yeah? When? when you are dead and six feet underground from an overdose?”

Seonghwa stayed quiet at your statement, the words feeling like a whiplash of cold water across his heated face. He sighed again, looking down at his fingers. He wished he could stop his leg from trembling but he couldn’t. 

"Sometimes it feels like you don't even care about how I feel." Seonghwa blurred out and your laugh at his words made him grimace. 

“Don’t try to guilt trip me into this” you warned him as you got closer this time, your hands slamming against to the table next to him. “You are spending my money by taking drugs. At least take responsibility for your actions. Face the consequences of that”

This time Seonghwa looked up at you, a frown on his face and anger slowly flicking inside of him. He didn’t needed you to tell him about how wrong it was. He knew it. He was the one suffering from it. You trying to act mighty was only icking his brain.

“Money, money! Is that all that matters to you?” he spat looking at you “what about me? about my health? My life? my fucking life, y/n? don't you care about it?”

“Of course I care about you!” you tried to defend yourself. 

“Yeah? it doesnt fucking look like it” Seonghwa said as he stood up from the table, making you take a step back. “you always are present when it comes to demanding your money back, but strangely you are never by my side when it comes to helping me stay sober”

“Don’t say shit!” you yelled, coming at his face, your own tears swelling at the corner of your eyes. “I was there holding your hair when you were throwing your guts out. I was there crying when you got knocked out after taking that tablet of benzos. I was–!”

“Why didn’t you let me go to rehab?” 

Seonghwa’s voice was soft, lower. Your eyes widened at the accusation and you felt your chest tightened inside your ribcage. 4 months ago, Seonghwa almost died from an overdose, thankfully you had found him and been there to save his ass. Everyone including his friend Hongjoong had told you to just take him to the rehab. Truth be told, you didn't. Because you were selfish, because you didn't think he would make it out alive there, where he would be left by himself. or perhaps it was you, who couldn't imagine one second of your life without him. 

At your silence, he chuckled. “That’s what I thought. Y/n, let me help you out, yeah?” he murmured, cupping your face with his big hands. your tears dampened his skin but he didnt care. you noticed how his pupils were blown and how at peace he looked despite the argument unfolding. “I am taking them benzos because if i don’t I will just unalive myself. So stop bitching. And leave me alone”

You wanted to slap him across the face, to yell at him, to curse him out for being so reckless with his life. He wasn't only destroying himself. He was destroying you. your love, your heart. Couldn’t he see how much this was hurting you?

Seonghwa was high. Most of the time during your relationship. So when he saw you sob between his hands, he leaned down and kissed your forehead. 

“I am sorry, baby” he murmured against your skin. “You can’t save a man that doesn't want to be saved.”

[vampynights]

CLYDE (ELECTRICK CHILDREN) — hanging on the telephone

✰summary: clyde’s not the conventional type to bring home and your parents make that abundantly clear. still, he’s desperate to keep you in his life somehow. do you choose between the approval and love of the people who keep a roof over your head, or the boy who made you feel alive for the first time ever?

✰warnings: cursing, smoking and weed usage (i’ve never actually smoked so bear with me), mentions of drinking, lots of tension, pretty slowburn (this is kinda an understatement, it took around 6,000 words to get to the lovers part), angst with comfort, unhealthy relationships with parents, afab reader, reader uses she/her pronouns 

✰a/n: this is not only the first fic (or oneshot) i’ve written in a while but also my first ever clyde fic so please excuse any mistakes!!! i’m open to any requests for clyde seeing as there isn’t enough fanfiction of him out there. 

✰words: 14.3k (it's a long one so strap in.)

————————————

Meeting Clyde was an accident but to her, it was almost a blessing. 

Y/N didn’t intend on letting it go as far as it did. He was just the weird stoner kid she met at a music venue. If you asked her, she’d tell you the story of how they met was as cliché as it could get. Girl bumps into boy with a drink, boy shrugs it off and promptly begins flirting with her, and they hit it off almost immediately. She’d never been to something like that before and it was obvious but Clyde was nice enough to make sure she didn’t feel too out of place (or bump into any more people.) 

By the end of the night, the two were walking around the streets of Las Vegas, talking endlessly about everything and anything that popped into their minds. Both of them knew that by bringing up a random story or question, they were simply procrastinating saying goodbye to one another, yet neither of them bothered to point it out or put an end to it. 

“Okay so- wait. You’ve never gone, like, fucking rogue on your parents for not even a day? What, do you just stay at home and shit?” Clyde is inebriated and exasperated, running a hand through his hair with one hand while the other raises to his mouth and grabs the cigarette in between his lips. He blows out the smoke and Y/N lets her gaze linger on the sight for a few seconds before looking at the street ahead, shaking her head. 

“I mean…yeah? I’m not really the type to disobey my parents for no reason. I didn’t feel any need to.” She looks down and kicks a pebble in front of her. She can feel Clyde staring at her but she refuses to make eye contact, weirdly embarrassed by her admission. 

“Yet here you are walking around with a random guy at night, real fucking smart. Were you even allowed to go to that venue?” He asks, laughing as he raises the cigarettes to his lips again. 

“Nope,” she replies, emphasizing the ‘P’. She shoves her hands into the pockets of her jacket and looks around. It’s surprisingly vacant, though she assumes it’s because they’ve unknowingly departed from the busier streets and are now walking around aimlessly. 

“Well aren’t you just a little rebel-“ he begins to tease her though is cut off by a harsh shove, making him laugh and stumble to the side. She playfully glares at him and flips him off. 

“Shut the fuck up?” She giggled. “I bet you’re probably a fucking nuisance to your parents.” Though it’s a rather mean statement, Clyde knows she’s only joking through the smile that spreads across her face. He smiles back and for a split second Y/N swears she feels her heart skip. 

“Well actually,” he raises the cigarette to his lips again, “I don’t live with them anymore. Well, technically I don’t.” 

Y/N feels a tinge of guilt for even bringing up the subject of his parents after hearing that, though Clyde is quick to notice the way her smile falters and he quickly adds to his sentence.

“Not that I really give a shit though, I like being on my own a lot better than staying over there. It’s suffocating,” he says through the cigarette in between his lips. 

“How come?”

“I don’t know, they’re like…not supportive of who I am and shit?” Clyde shrugs and runs a hand through his hair. Y/N feels as though he’s excluding a large majority of the story though drops it. She instead chooses to focus on how they’re approaching her neighborhood. She sighs, disappointed at the prospect of having to leave Clyde. He glances over at her from the corner of his eye at the sound and then directs his attention to where hers is, staring at a street sign in front of them. 

“Is uh- is this where you live?” He asks her, holding the cigarette between his fingers before flicking it and throwing it on the ground, stepping on it with his shoe to put it out. Y/N nods and then turns to face him. They’re both silent for a few seconds, staring at each other awkwardly as they try to formulate a proper goodbye. 

“This was…fun,” she eventually speaks, her lips pursing together into a tight smile. Clyde nods and smiles as well, though he is a lot more relaxed.

“Can I get your number?” He blurts out. Her eyes widen only slightly before she quickly begins digging into her bag, pulling out a pink flip phone with small bedazzled jewels on it. She holds it out for Clyde to take and he laughs at the sight, grabbing it and inspecting it.

“Cute,” is all he says as he flips it open and begins putting his number into her phone. He pulls out his own and puts her number into his, Y/N staring in awkward silence.

He shuts both phones and hands hers back, beginning to walk backward and away from her. “I’ll call you!” He shouts out to her, waving goodbye. She waves back, standing in place and watching him leave. Looking back down at her phone, she can’t help but grin wildly and laugh to herself as she walks back home, a blush spread across her cheeks the whole time.

———

It takes Clyde two days to call her. In those two days she did nothing but think of him. The way he pat her shoulder after she profusely apologized for spilling her drink on him, the way he whispered into her ear whenever someone he knew walked past and he had a strong opinion on them he just needed to share, and the way he asked her to walk with him before the band they were watching even finished performing all snuck their way into her mind throughout the day. 

What was in the forefront of her mind however was his smile. The smile he gave her as he offered to be her ‘guide’, the smile he gave her when she told him her name and the smile he gave her as they said goodbye. If there was anything she learned about him after the night they spent together, it was that he would very easily become her new favorite person. 

She was in her bedroom when he called, flipping through a fashion magazine while lying on her bed. Laying on her stomach with her legs swinging in the air, she mindlessly stared at the model on the page in front of her, though her mind was anywhere but on the skirt she was showcasing. Coincidentally enough, she was thinking about Clyde when the loud ringing alarmed her out of her thoughts. 

She jumped and got up, racing towards her phone on the dresser and picking it up to see the caller's I.D. Her heart raced as she read the name and she purposefully waited for the phone to ring for just a couple more seconds before picking it up to avoid looking eager. 

“Hello?” She could hear Clyde’s voice clearly through the speaker and her heart raced. It had only been two days since they met yet it felt like an eternity since she had heard his voice.

“Hi,” she breathed out, subconsciously checking herself out in the mirror and fixing her hair as if Clyde could see her. 

“What are you doing?” He asks and she can hear muffled music in the background as if he were listening to a live band in a different room. 

“Uhm nothing really…just doing some light reading…” she glances over at the magazine on her bed and paces her room. 

“Light reading? What the fuck is that?” He laughs on the other end and Y/N bites her lip to try and control the smile on her face. Sighing, she sits down on her bed and flips another page of the magazine absentmindedly. 

“Doesn’t matter. What are you doing? Sounds like you’re at a venue or something again.” She runs a finger down the page. 

“Close but not really. I’m uh watching some friends practice…they’re in a band and shit. They’re actually kinda good but y’know music is subjective and all that bullshit so maybe you won’t agree,” he mumbled into the phone, and she laughed in response. Laying down on her back, she stared up at her ceiling and tapped her fingers on her stomach. 

“Right…I’m sure they’re good. Well if they’re anything like the bands we heard the other night, they were amazing.” 

Clyde chuckles and clears his throat. “Yeah no they were great…they’re actually playing again at the same venue next week…if you wanna go check it out.” 

“The same venue only a week later? Wouldn’t they wanna broaden where they play and stuff?” Y/N furrows her eyebrows and rolls over on her side.

“Well they’re small bands and a shit ton of people usually go over there so…either way, it’s better for us cause it’s closer. So are you in or nah?” 

Y/N takes a moment to think. She was dying to see him again though the prospect of going against her parent's rule of sneaking out at night wasn’t one she was intending to break more than just once a month. Still, she found herself abandoning all logic and agreeing. “Yeah, sure. What day?” She tries to sound casual though a bit of excitement shines through her tone. 

“Next Wednesday at 11 pm. Don’t worry, I won’t keep you out long like last time,” he laughs, “unless you want me to.” 

Her heart skips at his words and she can practically hear his smirk over the phone. “We’ll see.” She’s trying her best to play it cool despite the tremor in her hands. 

“Cool.” 

And with that, they’re left in awkward silence for a few seconds. Y/N thinks of what to say and though she really, really doesn’t want to come off as desperate, she can’t help but ask the question that’s been nagging her ever since the day before. 

“How come it took you two days to call?” 

There’s a brief pause on Clyde’s end that makes her panic. Did she freak him out? Was she being overbearing? Was two days a reasonable amount of time to wait before calling someone and she was just clingy? His laughing cut off her train of thought. 

“Missed me?” He asked teasingly. She felt her cheeks grow warm from embarrassment but he spoke before she could defend herself. “I’m gonna be honest I just got kinda busy. Trust me when I say I wanted to call you, though.” 

Y/N smiles widely, not bothering to push it back. The confirmation that he had also been thinking about her, maybe not as much as she was thinking of him, but that she was on his mind at all overjoyed her. She twirled a strand of her hair around her finger and closed her eyes. 

“I’ll believe you. For now.” 

He snickered at her last statement and opened his mouth to reply before a voice other than his could be heard from the phone. She couldn’t tell whose voice it was, though the person seemed agitated with him. She stared at her nails as she waited for Clyde to speak to her.

“Listen, I gotta go but I’ll call you again soon, alright? And if not, I’ll see you on Wednesday. Kay?”

She was disappointed at the fact that their call had to be cut short though nodded to his words before remembering he couldn’t see her. “Uh- yeah! See you.” 

They exchanged a quick goodbye before hanging up the phone. Y/N flipped hers shut and set it down on top of her chest, her hands resting on her stomach as she smiled up at her ceiling. She knew it’d be a long week before Wednesday came.

—------------

She didn’t understand what part of her behavior may have changed throughout the week, though to her parents, it was fairly obvious that she was a little too happy. The next Monday Y/N could sense something was off the moment she stepped foot into the dining room. The atmosphere was tense almost, and what made things worse was Y/N couldn’t pinpoint why. Did they somehow know about her secret rendezvous? Maybe she was too loud on the phone the night before? Or perhaps they knew she snuck out the other night. They wouldn’t have waited this long to confront her, however. 

As she approached her seat at the dinner table, she cautiously stared up at her father through her eyelashes and pulled out her chair. Her father was too busy setting the table to notice. 

“Y/N! Can you come help me set the plates?” Her mother called out to her from the kitchen, startling her. She let go of the chair and began to walk towards the kitchen, taking one last glance at her father before directing her attention to her mother. She paced around the kitchen grabbing plates from cabinets, forks and knives from the drawers on the counters, and began transferring the food from the pots and pans onto the plates. Y/N walked over slowly and grabbed a plate, taking hold of a large spoon and scooping out some of the rice in the container to pour it onto the plate. The air felt a little lighter in there, and they both did their tasks in mutual silence for a minute before her mother began speaking. 

“You seem happy lately. Anything new?” It was an innocent question. Her mother was usually the type to inquire about her life so this wasn’t completely out of the ordinary. The guilt from sneaking out three nights ago plagued Y/N’s mind, however, and what once was a warm and comforting inquiry of how she was doing now became a terrifying interrogation. Y/N tried her best to remain calm and continued to fill the plate with food, setting it down and reaching over the counter to wash a spoon in her hands. 

“Nothing new, just happy that it’s summer,” she replied cooly, mentally applauding herself for responding without a shake in her voice. Her mother hummed in response and left the kitchen with a plate in her hands, walking out to the dining room. Y/N turned the sink off and sighed under her breath, looking down and gripping the counter with her hands. She was definitely not made for the lifestyle of sneaking out against her parent's permission. She ran a hand through her hair and took a deep breath, grabbing her plate and walking out to the dining room. 

Her father was seated already, flipping through a newspaper while her mother set a plate down in front of him. Y/N fought back the urge to roll her eyes at his inability to make his own plate and placed her plate down on the table. She silently walked back into the kitchen and looked in the fridge for something to drink. Her family wasn’t the type to drink anything deemed ‘unhealthy’, meaning the only things available to drink were water and homemade juices. She’d rather drink her own piss than ingest an entire cup of her mother's kale juice, so she instead opted for a water bottle. She’d kill to drink some soda, however. 

As she walked back to the table she found her mother and father already seated, staring at her expectantly. It was uncanny, almost, the way they both looked over in her direction at the same time and smiled. She froze for a split second and smiled back (though it came off as more of a grimace), her teeth in full display before she continued to walk back to her seat. She sat down and smoothed out her pants before looking down at her food and closing her eyes. Before every meal, they were expected to pray. 

‘Oh heavenly father,” her father began, sighing deeply as he intertwined his hands in front of his plate, “we thank you for the opportunity to be blessed with the food in front of us and we are grateful for the roof over our heads and for each other. Thank you for my wonderful wife who prepared this delicious meal, and thank you for my truehearted daughter who continues to stay on the right path, the path that you have created for her.” His prayer continued, though Y/N tuned out. 

The guilt was eating at her. Her father sat just inches away praising her for her obedience and loyalty to god, when just three nights before she was out on the streets with a boy who she knew very well both her parents and God wouldn’t approve of. Not that she really gave a damn about God anyway. He was always something her parents believed in and pressured her to believe in as well. Her doubt of his existence didn’t make her guilt any better, though. Even though she knew deep down she didn’t fully believe in him, she didn’t completely deny him either. And if he did exist as her parents insisted, was she just a horrible person and daughter for doubting that? She already felt like a horrible daughter for sneaking out the way she did. For years her parents publicly and privately praised her for being the “most well behaved child they’d ever seen.” They had confidence in her that she’d always do the right thing, and made it abundantly clear that if she were to ever, ever, disobey them she’d be betraying their trust completely. She was too caught up in her thoughts and failed to notice both of her parents staring at her worriedly. 

“Y/N?” Her mother reached out and grabbed her arm, gently shaking her. Y/N snapped back into reality and blinked, staring down at her food and then looking at her parents. “Are you okay sweetheart?” Her mother asked. Y/N could only nod and grab her fork, stabbing into the meat on her plate and shoving it into her mouth.

—--------------

Wednesday night, Y/N found herself pacing her room in an attempt to relieve the anxiety that surrounded her like a dark cloud. She’d gotten past the first two stages of her plan: she kissed both her parents goodnight and waited for them to fall asleep before hiding out in her room like a hermit. She placed a bunch of pillows under her blanket strategically to look like a body (something she’d learned from the corny sitcoms she was allowed to watch. She found it ridiculous though did it anyways,) and began getting ready. She didn’t own a lot of clothing that would be deemed ‘appropriate’ for the occasion and ended up wearing a loose black dress that stopped just short of her knees. She put on a leather jacket that she stole from a friend who had a lot more freedom to wear whatever they wanted, and some dark brown eyeshadow to try and give herself a more ‘edgy’ look. She assumed that’s what Clyde would be into based on the appearances of the girls he hung around with. 

It was a struggle to get out of her house without making any noise. She had to take off her shoes while she walked down the stairs and past her parents’ room to avoid any creaking in the floors, and it took her almost three minutes to unlock and open the door without making any noise. By the time she stepped out of her house, it was 10:55 pm and she had to be at the venue by 11, though her house was about a ten-minute walk from there. She was now not only incredibly nauseous from the fact that she was sneaking out in the first place but also that she had only 5 minutes to get there on time. Maybe he wouldn’t be there on time? He seemed like the type of guy who was never actually on time for stuff, so maybe, just maybe, she’d get there before him. Right? 

Wrong.

By the time she did get to the venue, sweaty and out of breath, she could see him standing against a wall with his arms crossed, smoking a cigarette. She didn’t understand why he smoked so much but decided now was definitely not the right time to ask any questions like that. She nervously walked up to him, trying to get a good look at his face underneath the colorful lights above them to gauge his mood and decide whether or not it was smart to actually go say hi or if she should just walk away and never talk to him again. It was hard to actually pinpoint his mood however, seeing as he remained rather stoic as he stared out at the street in front of him. He must have sensed her presence before he glanced over from the corner of his eye, and his eyebrow twitched just slightly. He pulled the cigarette away from his mouth and threw it on the ground, stepping over it before cooly walking over to her. She stayed frozen in place.

“Took you long enough. Was starting to think you wouldn’t show,” he mumbled, shoving his hands in the pockets of his navy blue hoodie as he walked towards her. Y/N laughed quietly, looking down at her shoes to avoid his gaze. 

“Sorry. Turns out sneaking out of your house with the intention of meeting up with someone is a lot harder than just sneaking out in general,” she was about to explain herself in further detail, feeling as if she needed to or else he’d get mad before he laughed and place an arm around her shoulder casually. Her eyebrows rose and she stiffened under his touch though didn’t make an effort to shove him off or anything. He was warm. She smiled softly as he began to lead her into the venue, rambling about how the bands already started but they weren’t missing out on much. 

—--------------------

That was a month ago. Every day since then, they have been in contact somehow, whether it was exchanging phone calls or texts, or meeting up with each other. They started hanging out more during the day as well, with Y/N lying and saying she was visiting her friends from church. The guilt of lying to her parents and disobeying them grew every day, though her affection towards Clyde was growing at an even more rapid rate. The guilt was worth it if it meant she got to see him one more time. One day, they were in his…room? She still didn’t know what to call it, she just knew that’s where he stayed most of the time. They both sat on his bed with their hands in the air, in the middle of a game of ‘Never Have I Ever’. Y/N was obviously winning with only three fingers down, meanwhile, Clyde had eight of them. 

“Okay sooo…” she began before smirking mischievously. Clyde sighed and rolled his eyes, a small smile on his face as well. 

“Ah shit you’re about to kill me, aren’t you?” He asked, giggling as Y/N placed a finger over his lips and shushed him. 

“Shhshhhshhh….never have I ever smoked.” 

Clyde narrowed his eyebrows at her. “Gotta be more specific. Like weed or cigs or-”

“Just put the finger down, Clyde, we both know you’ve inhaled any smoke you can think of naming,” Y/N laughs and grabs Clyde’s hand, forcing a ninth finger down as Clyde scoffed. 

‘I’m asking you, dumbass. What haven’t you smoked?” He asks, causing Y/N to go silent and stare. Clyde stares back. It shouldn’t have been a surprise. Over the past month, the two had gotten close enough to have a basic understanding of each other and their families, and Clyde knew damn well that she wasn’t experienced with any of that. In response to her silence, he chuckles and gets up, walking towards a book bag in the corner of the room. Y/N watches him wordlessly, having a growing suspicion of what he is going to pull out. She’s proven right when he turns around with a large smirk on his face, a tiny ziplock baggie in his hand with weed in it. Y/N scoffs and rests her back on the wall, her knees going up to her chest. 

“Wanna try? You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I just notice how you’ve been eyeing my shit whenever I smoke,” says as he approaches the bed, going to the bedside table next to it and digging through it. She couldn’t find the courage to correct him and tell him that the reasoning behind her staring when he smoked was because she thought he was attractive, not because she wanted to try it though. She stared as he went through the drawer, thinking through the pros and cons of what would happen if she smoked with him.

She did have a bit of a curiosity when it came to smoking and drinking, though her parents always told her it was a sin to do either. Though she was already sinning by being in this room with Clyde, she figured there’d be no harm in trying. He made a small ‘aha’ noise once he found whatever it was he was looking for and sat down in the bed in front of her, setting the items down. Aside from the baggie of weed, there were what Y/N understood to be cigar papers (from what Clyde had described it to look like in one of their previous conversations). Clyde picks it up and waves it around in front of her face. 

“Let’s see if you’ve been paying attention to anything I’ve said in the past,” he mumbled, setting it down and taking the weed out of the baggie. “What’s that? Do you know?” He nods towards the cigar papers. Y/N hesitated to answer, afraid of being wrong and embarrassing herself, though when she looked at Clyde’s face she saw nothing but a warm fondness in his eyes that made her whole body warm up. She knew he wouldn’t actually judge her, maybe tease and poke fun at her, but no real judgment would ever be made. 

“Uhm…cigar papers?” She answered, wincing a bit at the end of her response. Clyde’s smile eases her anxieties, however, and he laughs as he begins to pack the weed into the papers. 

“Shit, you have been listening! Good job.” 

The praise goes straight to her stomach as she feels it twist and turn. She was falling deep, a little too deep. She smiles in return and watches his movements. The two are silent for a few minutes, comfortable just enjoying each other's company. Once Clyde finishes, he holds up the blunt and rotates it in front of Y/N’s face. 

“Okay, serious talk now. You seriously don’t gotta do it if you don’t want to. I know your family have your own fucking reservations and shit about this type of shit,” he warns her, his tone genuinely rather stern. Y/N smiles at his concern. 

“Clyde, seriously, it’s fine. I wanna try. Plus, I’m not too concerned about anything bad happening, I mean, you smoke this stuff all the time, right?” Clyde nods and searches his pockets for his lighter. When he can’t find it, he begins lifting the blankets and pillows to find it around his bed.

“Yeah but this is your first time and well…shit get’s weird on your first time. I got you though. I won’t let anything happen to you.” 

Y/N’s almost glad he's preoccupied searching for his lighter so he can’t see her face after he says that. Little does she know he’s glad his lighter was hidden somewhere under his covers so he didn’t have to look her in the eyes and accidentally show off the blush that sneaked its way up to his cheeks. Once he finds it he chuckles to himself and glances over at Y/N, who is nervously staring at him. 

“Alright, you ready?” 

—---------------------------

It wasn’t a surprise that Y/N was high out of her mind from only a couple of hits. Clyde watched amused as she lay on his bed, staring up at his ceiling and rambling about god knows what. If he’s being honest, he stopped tuning in ten minutes into her rant and gave up trying to make sense of what she was saying. He was having just as much fun watching her fall into deep relaxation. He’d always found her to be on edge constantly, even when it was just the two of them in a secluded area, so to see her openly say what was on her mind with no hesitation was a sight to behold. And he was beholding it alright. 

As he listened to her rant he sat up and reached over to the bedside table and grabbed a water bottle, holding it out so she could take a sip. She whined and pushed it away, making him laugh and grab her hand. “C’mon dude you gotta drink something. You’ve gone through like three bags of chips, isn’t your mouth like hella salty?” He asks her, motioning towards the chips.

She looks over and stares in amazement at all the empty chip bags in front of her. “Holy shit…” she mumbled, clearly not fully present. “I ate all of those?” 

“Yeah, now open your mouth.” He grabs her chin and forces her mouth open despite her protests, placing the bottle up to her lips and tipping it slightly so it doesn’t all flow out. She drinks and he watches with an inexplicable expression on his face. He couldn’t believe that people like her still existed in the world, somehow so pure yet the slightest bit tainted. She was hopeful for a better world but not delusional, she was detached from the world he lived in yet kept an open mind and wanted to know more about it, and she was beautiful. Not just in a physical sense, but beautiful in the way she spoke. Gorgeous in the way she laughed and alluring in the way she presented herself. 

He slowly moved the bottle away from her lips and watched as she wiped her mouth, his eyes flickering down to her lips and staying there for a few seconds. They always looked so inviting. 

“Y’know, Clyde,” she began speaking and he looked away from her lips and up into her eyes. “I always thought you were really cool,” she huffed out, laying her head down on his lap. He tensed and looked down, his breathing growing shallow. There was a large pause in between her sentences. She closed her eyes and Clyde could only stare in silence. He hesitantly reached his hand down to her hair, hovering above it to see if she was okay with him touching her head. She didn’t make any indication for him to move, so he began to gently comb his fingers through her hair. The two sat like that for a while before Y/N continued her point from earlier. 

“You are really cool…” she lifted herself off his lap and instead moved closer to him, their bodies inches away. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what she was trying to do.

She glanced down at his lips and Clyde subconsciously licked them. She moved even closer. 

“I think I like you.” 

That confession alone was enough to make him stop breathing for a couple of seconds. Sure, there had been a couple of signs out there that seemed to hint towards her having an attraction to him. That was all it was though. An attraction. He’d always been doubtful of the idea of her ever gaining any actual feelings for him, he was far too damaged to be hers. He’d only ever entertained the idea of them being together at night when he was up late at night and needed something to soothe him to sleep. So to hear her say something like that, he just couldn’t believe it. She was high. It had to be because of that. He refused to believe any other reason. 

She began to lean in and Clyde could feel the overwhelming urge to allow her to kiss him wash over him. He couldn’t allow that to happen, however. Not while she was not in the right state of mind. He put a hand on her shoulder and stopped her movements, making her furrow her eyebrows and pout at him. The sight alone was testing him. 

“C’mon. You’re high, you don’t know what you’re saying,” he mumbled, watching as her pout developed into a frown. 

“What? But I thought-” 

“Just go to sleep or something, I don’t know Y/N,” he sighed out, running a hand through his hair. Y/N shrugged and laid her head back down on his lap, yawning and closing her eyes. He couldn’t bring himself to look down, knowing that if he did, he’d regret not kissing her.

—-------------

Things were tense after that. He drove her home after ensuring she was fairly sober, making sure she left after ingesting a fair amount of fast food. He could still see the wide smile that plastered itself onto her face when he presented her with an extra large cup of soda. That night he didn't sleep, though that was fairly common for him. This time, however, he refused to lull himself to sleep with daydreams of them together, afraid that he’d get overwhelmed. They didn’t see each other for another week after that, which after spending almost the entire month together, obviously aroused suspicion from Y/N. She couldn’t recall much of what happened that day, knowing that she got high and did go on a tangent about baby whales, though everything else was a blur. She first assured Clyde was busy. After all, he had been acting semi-normal when he bought her food and dropped her off, and a day later the two talked on the phone for about ten minutes. But then he changed. He texted her less and when he did text her, it was fairly short replies with no warmth or jokes like usual. She’d begun to get the feeling that she did something wrong but had no idea what it was. 

After two days with no contact on the phone, she grew extremely worried. Not only for his sake but also for their relationship. Did she say- or do- something while high? She decided that night she was going to check on him. 

After sneaking out and lying to her parents about what she was doing for a little over a month, she began to grow increasingly good at deceiving them. Of course, it never felt good, and she found herself actually praying for forgiveness some nights, though she was far too addicted to the rush she got from doing so to ever stop. That night, like most, she kissed her parents goodnight and waited until around 10 p.m. to sneak out. She didn’t bother texting Clyde to let him know she was visiting, not wanting to risk him running away to avoid her. 

When she arrived at the building he usually stayed at, she went straight to his usual spot, though was unable to find him. She frowned. It wasn’t uncommon for him to be out at night, the issue was he had more than just one or two spots he went to hang out, and she really didn’t feel like walking around the streets of Las Vegas at night in search of him. She decided to suck it up, though, knowing that her relationship -or lack thereof- with Clyde was more important than preserving her energy. 

She stopped by Johnny’s room to see if he was there, pushing the door open slightly and clearing her throat over the loud video game sound effects and music coming from his T.V. making him glance over and nod in her direction. 

“Yo,” he spoke absentmindedly, his fingers harshly clicking the buttons of the video game controller in his hands. Y/N smiled at him though he wasn’t paying attention. 

“Have you seen Clyde?” she asked, her hand gripping onto the door. 

Johnny takes a second to answer, his eyebrows furrowing though Y/N can’t tell if it’s because he’s too focused on the game or if it’s because he’s actually trying to think of when the last time he saw Clyde was. Y/N raises her eyebrows expectantly, and Johnny pauses his game and looks at her. “He went to the park with Snow, said he needed to clear his mind or something,” he says while scratching his head. Y/N can tell he wants to say more and stays in her place by the door. 

He continues. “Not that it’s any of my business but uh…did you and Clyde get into some argument or something? I didn’t wanna eavesdrop but when they were leaving I heard her mention something about girls and then your name and…well I don’t know I just haven’t seen you around this week so I just assumed.” He shrugged and leaned over to grab a beer bottle on a tiny wooden table, chugging the liquid down. Y/N smiled. She remembered her first impression of him wasn’t the best, thinking he was a bit of a dick and standoffish, though he eventually came around. She sighed and patted the side of the door, getting ready to make her departure. 

“Ya know Johnny that is a GREAT question. I’m about to go find out,” she replied simply before waving goodbye and rushing off. Johnny stared after her and shrugged before returning to his video game. 

Y/N wasn’t too worried about Clyde hanging out with Snow this late at night alone. She’d interacted with Snow several amount of times before and she was a very sweet girl, although a bit ditzy whenever she was intoxicated (which was a little too often.) She gave Y/N a safe space to talk about being a girl and made it obvious that Clyde was her friend and nothing more. She of course became aware of Y/N’s feelings for Clyde before Y/n herself was even aware of them, and took any chance she got to push the two together. Overall she was the cute blonde girl who at first glance looked like a mean girl but would actually end up being your best friend. 

What concerned her was the fact that her name was mentioned in their conversation, meaning Clyde was talking about her despite not reaching out to her at all. She had to have done something wrong. As she walked towards the local park she did nothing but think through the countless number of possible ways she could have fucked up. She had eight minutes to think through exactly what she was going to say when she saw him. Was she going to be angry? Demand why he didn’t talk to her for days? Or maybe she’d take a softer approach. 

Eight minutes was not enough time to make any decision. By the time she got to the park, she was less than ready, staring at the figures sitting on a bench a few feet away. She could easily tell it was Clyde and Snow based on the shape of his hair, and she felt her palms get clammy as she walked towards them. Clearly, she didn’t think that through. 

“Clyde.” Was all she said as she approached the two. They both turned, though Clyde was a lot quicker, and Snow smiled widely when she saw Y/N. 

“See, what’d I say,” she whispered over to Clyde, patting his shoulder before getting up and smiling warmly at her friend. Y/N couldn’t be upset with her, she was far too cute, so she smiled back. Snow leaned in and gave Y/N a quick hug, patting her back before walking away without another word. It was silent after that. 

Clyde turned back around and stared down at the ground, Y/N walking to the front of the bench and sitting down next to him. She left little room for him to run away. Whatever it was, they were going to confront it tonight. Y/N was the first to speak after gathering her thoughts.

“Did I do something wrong?” She asked, her voice breaking. She didn’t intend to get emotional so early in the conversation but she couldn’t help it. Aside from the fact that she harbored feelings for him, his friendship meant a lot to her. He was the first friend she’d made who she felt completely comfortable around. He introduced her to a whole new world that she didn’t know existed, and she knew that world meant nothing without him. He was ingrained into her. 

Clyde looked up quickly and stared at her, his eyes wide and bloodshot. When she turned to look at him she couldn’t help but feel pity. He’d obviously been lacking sleep. “Jesus Clyde, what’s happened?” She asked, leaning in and cupping his face in her hands. He twitched underneath her touch but said nothing. Y/N inspected his face for a sign, anything that would tell her what was wrong, but she found nothing. That was until she looked into his eyes. 

She couldn’t tell what it was, but the intensity of his eyes made it so that she couldn’t look away even if she wanted to. She didn’t need to hear any words to understand that he was in some weird internal battle with himself. 

“You told me you liked me.” Clyde finally breaks his silence. His voice was so quiet, she could almost barely hear it. She’d never heard him so vulnerable before. 

“What?”

“When you were high you told me you liked me and tried to kiss me.” Y/N was at a loss for words. She should have known she’d say something so stupid in a moment of vulnerability. She let go of his face and opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out, so Clyde continued. “I can’t be with you, Y/N. And if I can’t be with you then I don’t know what else to do with myself.”

She was confused now. What did he mean by ‘he couldn’t be with her?’ Was that because he didn’t feel the same way? Then why add that last part? She searched for the words in her brain though all that could come out was a weak “What?”

“Y/N,” he breathed in and looked away, as if he felt guilty, “I like you. But I can’t let myself ruin you.” 

She should have felt overjoyed. She just got confirmation that her crush liked her back, this should have been a happy moment, but instead, she just felt nauseous. The pit in her stomach that had been lingering there for about a week was intensifying. 

“What the fuck does that even mean?” She spat out. Ruin her? How could he ever ruin her? “Clyde, I don’t know what you’re talking about and to be honest, I don’t care. You couldn’t ever ruin me-“ 

“Y/N, you’re Christian.” Y/N stared in disbelief, ready to ridicule him for bringing up such an irrelevant fact before he continued. “You’re Christian and you’re- you’re fucking amazing. You’re like a rainbow at the end of a storm, and I know that it’s fucking cliché and corny, and you can make fun of me all you want, but I don’t know how else to describe it. You don’t smoke, you don’t drink, and you hadn’t had a soda in years before I bought you one for fucks sake! You’re in your own sweet, innocent little world, and I took you away from that. I don’t wanna take you away from more.”

His confession left her speechless. She understood what he was trying to say, having had the same thoughts before. They WERE different, though she didn’t have to carry the burden of thinking she was ‘tainting’ him the way he did with her. He was the opposite of everything her parents wanted for her. Disobeyed his parents, he smoked and occasionally drank, he definitely didn’t hold any religious beliefs that they would agree with, and the list went on longer than she’d like it to. 

She looked down at her hands which rested on top of her knees. She’d hate to admit he was right. They both sat in silence for a while, seemingly contemplating what they should do. She felt weird. As if he was somehow misconstructing the truth. She didn’t doubt that he felt bad about changing her, though something was telling her that wasn’t the full story. If he really did feel so bad, why did he let her keep hanging around him? Why not cut contact earlier? He was leaving something out. 

“Tell me the truth, Clyde,” she sighed out. Clyde frowned and turned to look at her. 

“That is the truth.” 

“No, it’s not. I don’t know if you’re lying to me or something but there’s no way the only reason is cause you feel guilty.”  Clyde bit the inside of his cheek. 

“I’m not good for you,” he began and Y/N rolled her eyes, sitting back on the bench and crossing her arms. He ignored her and continued, “I’m a dumbass, Y/N. I don’t think you understand just how-“ he sighs, exasperated. “I can’t give you anything. I don’t have a lot of money to fucking buy you jewelry like some other guy can, shit I don’t even have like a real home to live in! Shit, dude, I’m like…the worst guy you could date.” 

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. Clyde was obviously confused by her random change in mood, though Y/N couldn’t stop herself. As she threw her head back her laughter died down to just giggles. “So this is all about you not being good enough for me?” She turned towards him. 

He sniffled, wiping his face with the sleeve of his jacket and avoiding her gaze.”So what? You think it’s fucking stupid?” He asks, laughing a bit to mask his hurt. She wordlessly grabbed his hands and removed them from his face, forcing him to maintain eye contact. Cupping his cheeks once again, she wipes away the few stray tears that managed to fall and smiles at him. Without warning, she leans in and kisses him. 

The kiss is soft as if she were worried about breaking him, and Clyde has no idea how to respond. He keeps his hands by his side and closes his eyes, relishing the feeling of her lips against his. He knows his are cracked and probably dry but she doesn’t care. As he goes to lift his hands to grab her face, she pulls away, confusing him. He finds it adorable how her face is obviously flushed despite being the one to initiate the kiss.

“Clyde, I don’t give a damn if you don’t have any money,” she breaks the silence. He says nothing and just continues to admire her. “I don’t care if you don’t have a proper home, or proper parents, or a proper attitude. I like you because you’re fun. You’re fun and you’re sweet and you’ve shown me that life doesn’t have to be lived by the rules only. And holy shit did my life suck before I met you.” Clyde laughs quietly. 

She presses her forehead against his and he shuts his eyes, smiling. It was pure silence around the two and if they focused hard enough, it felt like they were the only two in the world. 

————————-

Two months pass by without an issue. Y/N continues to visit Clyde in secret and once in a while he stops by her house, but only when her parents are asleep. The two share a few kisses in her dark room, talk about whatever came up, kiss some more until he eventually wound up on top of her, and then say goodbye. He promised her that he’d never pressure her into doing anything she wasn’t ready for, and though she trusted him with her entire life, she knew she wasn’t ready to take a step like that. 

It was a rainy Saturday night when Y/N made her first mistake. 

The two were hanging out in Clyde’s room, Johnny, Snow, and Lola joining them. The other three were obviously intoxicated and trying to play a game of Monopoly while Clyde and Y/N sat in the corner of the room, Y/N’s legs over Johnny’s lap while he drew something in his notebook. Y/N painted her nails with a dark purple polish Lola let her borrow. 

“What are you drawing?” She asked, leaning forward a bit to try and get a glimpse. Clyde smirked and pushed back, swatting her hands away as well. 

“Mind your business,” he laughed. Y/N rolled her eyes and set the polish aside, removing her legs from his lap. Clyde looked away from his drawing to stare at her questioningly before she maneuvered herself to sit next to him. He shut his notebook and threw it to the side, wrapping an arm around her as she put her head on his shoulder. They watched the other three argue about fake money and properties. 

“Man fuck you, Lola! That was supposed to be my station??” Johnny spat out while Lola laughed and flipped him off. 

“Yes? Well, it’s mine now. Too bad,” she hummed happily, flipping her brown hair over her shoulder as Snow passed her a large bottle of alcohol. 

“Hope your ass lands in prison…” he grumbled, making Clyde snicker under his breath. Y/N smirked and reached out to grab Clyde’s hand, subconsciously playing with his fingers. He looked down at their hands and then at her. 

“Ready to go home?” He asked. She hummed in thought and glanced over at a clock nearby. 

“In like…five minutes. I’ve got church tomorrow morning so I gotta be up early,” she whined and threw her head back, Clyde raising his hand so that the back of her head didn’t hit the wall. Snow, who apparently has been watching them and listening in on their conversation, sucks her teeth. 

“Why don’t you just tell them you don’t wanna go?” She asks, laying down. Clyde rolled his eyes and scoffed. 

“Yeah, bright idea, she’ll just tell her vehemently Christian parents that she doesn’t want to go church. That definitely won’t be suspicious,” he remarks. Y/N glares at him. 

“Don’t be a dick, Clyde,” she whispers. Looking over at Snow, she smiles softly. “He’s got a point though. They’ll get all weird and assume I’m doing something behind their backs which… I am but…” she shrugs. 

Snow passes over another bottle of alcohol to Clyde which he declines. “Gotta drive her home,” he mumbles as an excuse. Johnny laughs. 

“Look at you being a good little boyfriend,” he teases and Clyde side-eyes him. He gets up, extending his hand out for Y/N to take, and helping her get up when she does. He then walks over to Johnny, smacking him on the back of the head while simultaneously grabbing his keys from the table nearby. 

“It’s called making sure we don’t fucking die on the road.” He scoffed. Y/N bent over to hug Snow and Lola before ruffling Johnny’s hair, waving goodbye to everyone as they walked towards the door. 

“See you guys later!” She exclaimed while following Clyde out of the room. They walked down the hallway in comfortable silence until they went down the stairs and reached the front doors. It was pouring rain outside and Y/N grimaced at the idea of getting soaked. Clyde sighed and searched around for an umbrella he could borrow, but he came to no luck. He then shrugs off his jacket and hands it to Y/N who smiles gratefully in response. She puts it on and puts the hood over her head to protect her hair, and the two interlock hands before counting down to three. 

“Ready? One, two, three-!” Clyde counted out, gripping her hand tightly as they ran out into the pouring rain, giggling as they crossed the street to where his van was parked. Clyde hurries to unlock the doors, Y/N laughing at how his hair was sticking to his face. They rushed inside and drove off. Clyde drops her off a couple of streets away from her house just in case anyone were to see her, they wouldn’t see her being dropped off by a rusty van. 

As the vehicle comes to a stop, Clyde turns to face her but she quickly smashes her lips against his. His hands immediately go to cup her face, and she runs a hand through his hair as their kiss grows rougher. He pulls away first after a couple of seconds, breathing heavily and laughing. 

“You gotta go-” he’s interrupted by her kissing him again. He makes a small “hmph” sound as their lips touch, and this time she tries to pull him closer by his collar. His hand travels down her face to her neck and he wraps his fingers around her neck loosely. She whines against his lips and he has to remind himself that they are inside his van in the middle of a Christian neighborhood. This time Y/N pulls away, giggling as she gives him one last kiss on the cheek before opening the door and rushing out, shouting out a quick goodbye and thank you.

Clyde doesn’t even have time to utter a response as she’s gone by the time he really comes to his senses. He shakes his head while laughing and drives off.

—--------------------

Y/N is asleep for longer than she should have been, seemingly sleeping through her alarms and her mothers shouts for her to get up. She barges in through the door, obviously annoyed, and huffs out another “Get up”, yanking the blankets off of Y/N. Y/N groans and turns over, shielding her face from the sun shining through her windows. 

“Get up, Y/N! What has gotten into you? Do you not remember we have service this morning? You have twenty minutes to get ready, hurry. Since you seem to be incapable of getting up on your own I’ll have to pick your dress for you as well, since you want to be a child.” Y/N can barely understand her mother, still too groggy to even respond. She sits up on her bed and rubs her eyes, yawning, and stretches her arms in the air, as her mother goes through her closet in search of something she can wear to Church. She mutters to herself, commenting about each dress she sees as she frantically goes through her closet before going awfully silent for a few seconds. Y/N takes notice of this and furrows her eyebrows, scooting towards the front of her bed. 

“Mom? What’s wrong-?” She herself goes quiet when her mother pulls out Clyde’s jacket that was stashed in the back of the closet and holds it up for her to see. Suddenly the atmosphere of the room is tense, and Y/N feels as though she can’t breathe. She watches as her mother wrinkles her nose at the smell, holding the jacket up by her fingertips. It’s already very apparent that it’s a males jacket, though Y/N’s plan on lying and telling her mother it’s a jacket one of her friends let her borrow from Church immediately goes to shit when her mother scoffs. 

“This smells like rain and cologne…Y/N where did you get this? And why is it wet? You didn’t leave the house yesterday.” Y/N can feel her throat closing in. The room feels as though it’s closing in on her as she and her mother lock eyes in a silent battle, one that Y/N is losing horribly. This tension is luckily diffused the moment her father calls out to her mother, and she turns to look towards the door. She glances back at Y/N once again and then leaves the room in a hurry, the jacket in her hands. Y/N watches her leave in silence before groaning and covering her face with her hands, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes.

She didn’t know if it was some sick joke or if the universe was just against her, but that day’s sermon was about disobeying one's parents and straying from the word of God. 

—--------------------

The jacket incident wasn’t brought up again. She didn’t understand if her mother just forgot about it or decided that it wasn’t worth arguing over, either way, Y/N was glad. She called Clyde the next day when her parents were out of the house and told him what happened, telling him that she’d take a break from sneaking out and visiting him. She couldn’t risk raising suspicion on her. Clyde was obviously upset though understood that she was just taking necessary precautions and told her to stay safe and let him know if she ever needed any help. For the remainder of the week, she didn’t call or text him and made sure to be on her best behavior. This, of course, did not go unnoticed by her mother. 

After a couple more days, Y’N assumed she was sort of in the clear to at least contact him again. She texted him an update and asked how he and the others were doing, leading to him sending her an onslaught of messages complaining about how he missed her and “couldn’t stand dealing with the others without her around.” She then reminded him he was friends with them way before he met her, and he just ignored her and asked when he’d see her again. 

CLYDE

Y/N: i’m scared, don’t want her 2 notice anything weird

CLYDE: It’ll be fine, it’s been days hasn’t it?

Y/N: yeah but…

CLYDE: Just come over for like a hour or two.

The others wanna see you too. 

Y/N sighs. She can’t deny his offer, no matter how many warning signs are going off in her head. She missed him, she missed being around him, she missed his lips, and she missed her friends. Just an hour or two wouldn’t hurt, right? She types back. 

Y/N: fine, but just for two hours and then i gotta be right back home. 

CLYDE: Awesome. I’ll pick you up at 11.

—--------------------

That was her second mistake. 

Surprisingly enough, it wasn’t the actual act of sneaking out that got her caught. No, it was the fact that her mother got the inkling to just check her phone the next morning while she slept. She should have known something was going to go wrong considering how smoothly the night before went. She did her usual routine of kissing her parents goodnight, waiting till they slept, and sneaking out of the house at exactly 11 on the dot. The moment she stepped foot out of her house she ran towards the street he usually dropped her off at and sure enough his van was parked. 

She ran inside and almost immediately after settling herself down on her seat, Clyde smashed his lips against hers. It took her by surprise though she had no issue with it and leaned into the kiss, placing a hand on his shoulder. The kiss was rougher and noisier than any of their previous ones, with their lips making a smacking sound every time they moved. They eventually pulled away when Clyde’s hand slipped around the back of her neck, and they took a minute to catch their breath. 

“Good to see you too,” she joked, giggling as she wiped her mouth, Clyde only nodded and laughed breathlessly, turning on the engine and driving off. They didn’t do much that night, simply going to his room and making up for lost time (this of course included talking about their days while interrupting each other with kisses that led to her being on his lap and leaving one or two bruises on his neck). Eventually, Snow and Johnny stopped by. Snow was probably more ecstatic to see her than everyone else, having almost crushed her with a hug that lasted exactly two minutes, and the four played games and talked about what she’d missed. 

Clyde drove her home two hours later, as promised, and the two departed with yet another passionate kiss. They agreed to meet again the following night at the same time, feeling as if only one night a week wasn’t enough. When she got back home everything was as it should be. Everyone was in bed and her pillows were still placed in the exact positions she had arranged them to be under her blanket. She was happy and secure when she went to bed, which is exactly why she panicked the next morning when she couldn’t find her phone. 

She’d searched everywhere, her entire room turned upside down as she tried desperately to find her phone. It wasn’t underneath her pillow where she put it before she went to sleep, it wasn’t in any of her drawers or on top of her dresser or bedside table, and it wasn’t in her closet. It wasn’t under her bed or in her jewelry boxes, and as she continued to search, that unmistakable feeling of dread settled upon her. She knew she took it with her up to her room, she specifically remembers policing it underneath her pillow before falling asleep, so why couldn’t she find it? There was only one answer and the thought alone made her nauseous. 

She couldn’t bring herself to go downstairs. She knew she had to eventually, but a part of her wanted to stay locked inside her room until she died. She might as well die now in peace, seeing as the moment she walks down those stairs, she is sealing her fate. Was her room always this stuffy? Why did it feel so dark? It was only ten in the morning. Y/N took a moment to sit down on her bed and try to catch her breath. It was no use, however, and she could feel herself hyperventilating. She’d done so much over the past couple of months and she’d gotten so used to going unnoticed that the prospect of getting caught wasn’t really in her mind much at all anymore. Clearly, she had gotten too cocky. 

She knew she had to go downstairs. There was no use in prolonging the inevitable. As she made her way out of her room -extremely slowly-, she took notice of just how quiet it was. Her house was never a noisy one, seeing as it was just the three of them, though she added context of her parents waiting for her downstairs to confront her seemed to emphasize the silence. She trudged down the stairs, feeling lightheaded. She had to grip onto the railing tighter than usual to ensure she wouldn’t fall. Her footsteps were too loud. The lights were too bright. Somehow everything that she encountered every day overwhelmed her. As she approached the dining room she felt her mouth go dry. 

There both her father and mother sat in chairs right next to each other, holding hands. They looked glum. Y/N’s eyes drifted towards the objects on the table in front of them. Sure enough, it was her phone and Clyde’s jacket. She was beyond fucked and there was absolutely no way out of this. She didn’t even bother moving towards them, instead staying frozen in her place. She couldn’t move even if she wanted to. She was quite literally paralyzed by fear. 

“Take a seat.” Her father never had a ‘warm’ tone to his voice, yet she’d never heard him be so cold and demanding. When she looked over at her mother she took note of how she refused to make eye contact with her. She was always the softer of the two. Y/N refused to take pity on her, however. She was the one who brought this situation to life. Despite that small little voice in her head telling her not to, Y/N walked towards the table and took a seat in front of the two, her face stoic. If she was going to go through this, she needed to seem as unbothered as possible. 

“Do you understand what you have done?” Her father didn’t wait to begin berating her. Y/N continued to stay silent, her eyes fixated on Clyde’s jacket. Oddly enough the sight alone gave her a sense of comfort, knowing that it belonged to the boy who was there to support her no matter what and always keep her safe. This of course didn’t apply to the current situation. Only God knew what was about to happen to her.

“You’ve completely broken any ounce of trust your mother and I have spent years building up. We have not raised you this way.” Somehow the lack of yelling and anger in his voice made this all the more terrifying. He was angry, his words didn’t conceal that at all, and when she looked up into his eyes, she couldn’t help but feel like she’d dug her own grave. They were washed over with this darkness that she couldn’t explain. She felt disgusted to be on the receiving end of his stare. “No daughter of mine will behave this way.” 

She didn’t know what came over her. Perhaps she was momentarily possessed by some spirit that was like her outspoken alter-ego, or maybe she just had gone insane after months of being riddled with this guilt for disobeying her parents, but she opened her mouth to speak without any second thought. “What way?”

Her father scoffed and her mother pleaded with her through her gaze to take back what she said. While she certainly wasn’t intending to say that, now that it had left her mouth she needed to own up to it. She didn’t falter under her father's strict gaze. Her mother was the one to speak up.

“What he means is-” 

“Quiet.” Her father is quick to shut her down. She shuts up. “You’re whoring yourself out to some stranger boy on the streets? Is that seriously how you intend to live your life? Do you not feel ashamed? Dirty?” 

Y/N couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. She knew her father wouldn’t be happy, she wasn;t expecting him to throw rose petals and give her his blessing, but to go as far as accusing his onw daughter of being a whore? She couldn’t stop the tears that welled up in her eyes, though the rest of her face maintained neutral. 

“Well? Speak!” He raised his voice for the first time and Y/N flinched. What was she supposed to say? Admit to his demeaning allegations? 

“If you want me to call myself a whore then you might as well just leave now because you’re not getting a single confession from me.” 

She definitely pissed him off with that one. He clenched his jaw and looked off to the side, taking in a deep breath as he tried to compose himself. He grabbed her phone and held it up so she could see, making her frown. 

“You will never contact that boy again. Do you understand?” 

Y/N would be stupid to assume this was the end. She nodded along to his words however to appease him. He stayed silent and hardened his gaze, making her realize he wanted a verbal response. 

“Yes sir.”

He laughed. “I don’t think you understand. But you will soon.”

Before she could question what he meant he took her phone and threw it across the dining room, the impact making a loud noise as it hit the wall and fell to the floor. Both Y/N and her mother visibly flinched at the noise, and for the first time, she was genuinely afraid of something happening to her physically. Her father stood up and walked out of the room, not bothering to give her one last glance. She stared down at the table, her tears falling freely at this point. Her mother offered out her hand, though Y/N swatted it away and got up and stormed off as well.

—---------------

Clyde knew something was wrong when she didn’t show up at that night. He didn’t know what happened or why, but he was concerned. There wasn’t anything he could do, however, seeing as he couldn’t just walk up to her front door and knock and ask why she flaked out. He tried his best not to let his mind wander and assumed she’d just fallen asleep earlier. Or at least that’s what he tried to tell himself until the next day when he didn’t hear from her at all. 

Now things were getting concerning. If she really had fallen asleep, she’d just text or call him and apologize. Her lack of contact made him wonder if something did happen to her and if something did happen, what could he do? He left her two text messages that day, both asking if she was alright. He decided to just wait, one wrong move and he’d be getting her in a world of trouble. His messages were never returned. 

Another day went by without contact and though he didn’t show it outwardly, he was absolutely freaking the fuck out. It was unusual for her to go radio silent with absolutely zero warning, and after not showing up the other night, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander. What if she’d gotten caught? What was he supposed to do? Go to her house and demand she give him an explanation? Threaten to fight her parents? Throw rocks at her window to get her attention and then convince her to leave her home and run away with him? 

Being the romantic that he was, he naturally chose the last option. He drove to her house the next day at around 12 am, stopping his van a few streets away like he normally would in case anyone was nosy enough to even look at the front of her house. He walked in the cold night with a pocket full of tiny pebbles, mentally going through what he was going to say to her. He knew that despite her feelings for him, she loved and respected her parents, so it wouldn’t be easy to convince her to leave. That and he knew how rough life was when you didn’t have the support of a parent or loved one to fall back on. He was okay living like that but he didn’t want that to be her reality as well. She deserved better than that, even if it was a couple of assholes with old fashion traditions.

Once he arrived at her window he threw the first pebble, getting no response. That’s fine, she probably didn’t hear it. He threw another one and again: no response. He threw another one, and another one, and eventually, he’d thrown every pebble in his pocket. Making a mental note to carry more the next time, he debated yelling out her name though decided against it. He couldn’t risk her parents hearing him. He walked away, dejected and ready to return the next day to try again. 

He decided to take his chances and call her again the next day, just in case she was asleep the night before and just didn’t hear him. He knew the call was going through but didn’t understand why she wasn’t picking up, and to be quite honest, it was starting to piss him off. His anger wasn’t directed towards her of course, no, he was mad at her parents. Why couldn’t they just let her be happy? When his call went to voicemail he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Leave a message after the beep,” the robotic voice spoke and Clyde had to suppress everything in him that was telling him to just throw his phone at the wall. After hearing the beep he shook his head and looked around his room. 

“Hey, Y/N. I don’t know what the fuck happened -I mean I have an idea but- I need you to call me back okay? I don’t care if it’s to tell me that you can’t see me anymore, I don’t care if it’s your stupid fucking parents telling me I’m a piece of shit who isn’t good enough for their daughter, I really don’t give a shit. I just want to know you’re okay. Call me back when you get this. Bye.” 

—-----------------

She did NOT in fact call him back. He visited her house again the next night and brough two pockets full of pebbles, taking his sweet time throwing them at her window just like the other night. Still, no answer. He could have sworn he’d seen her light flash off when he was approaching her window though he wasn’t sure if he was just going crazy. He was getting frustrated. How else was he supposed to feel? When he got back to his room that night, he completely ignored Snow and Lola who tried to cheer him up with some alcohol and instead went straight to bed, though he of course didn’t sleep at all that night. 

The next day he called her again. The call went to voicemail again, and he cursed at the stupidity of leaving a message she probably wasn’t going to hear or respond to. Yet he still left one. 

“Hey, uhm I don’t know what is going on over there but you need to call me back dude. This isn’t fucking funny okay?” His voice was sounding uncharacteristically desperate. He needed to remind himself that it wasn’t that serious. Or at least that’s what he needed to believe to keep himself calm. “Call me and tell your parents to go fuck themselves while you’re at it, okay? Stay safe, bye.” 

—-----------------

He knew she wasn’t going to be responding to any of his phone calls, yet for every day that passed by, he left a new one. 

“I don’t know what to do, Y/N. It’s not like I can just show uo to your fuckin’ house and, like, demand your parents to let you see me. I mean, I could but, what the fuck is that gonna do? Come on Y/N just…fuck.” 

—--------------

“At least I know you’re not playing some stupid fucking prank on me now. There’s no way you’d be able to keep it going this far. I don’t even know if you’re listening to these. Or your parents. Is anyone fucking there? Are they doing some weird punishment thing where they force you to listen to each of these messages and fucking laugh at me or something? That’d be fucked up. Call me back sometime in the near future. Preferably before I die.”

—-------------

“Snow is on my ass right now because of you, did you know that? She’s pissed at me. Thinks I’m not doing enough to see you. I don’t know what the fuck she wants me to but she’s been complaining about how she misses you. Everyone’s kinda on edge right now. Would be really cool if you’d, I don’t know, pop up out of nowhere. We miss you.” 

—-----------

“Y’know I look like a dumbass making all these phone calls and leaving all these fucking voicemails knowing they aren’t going to anyone. There’s a part of me that wishes you’d just pick up randomly and we’d just talk normally as if nothing happened… that’s so stupid what the fuck am I saying? Fucking corny….I gotta go. Miss you.” 

—----------

“Uhm. I know I was always awkward about it in person and shit but… I really like you, you know? I hope you do. Even if I’m not there to say it. Just…remember that for me okay? I like you. I trust you. To me, that means a lot more than love. But I do love you. I hate saying it cause it’s fucking stupid and you can’t count on anyone ever so what’s the point of saying it, yknow? And maybe it’s stupid to even think I love you because we really only knew each other for a couple of months but…whatever. Bye.”

—----------

“So what? You’re gonna give up on her? That’s your fucking GIRLFRIEND, Clyde.” Snow smacked the side of Clyde’s head making him groan and divert his eyes from her. He wasn’t giving up, or at least he refused to look at it that way. He’d decided to give up calling. He refused to be held captive by the idea, the fantasy, of her coming back and answering the phone one day. He lifted the blunt to his lips and took a deep breath in, trying his best to ignore her scolding. 

“Clyde what if something seriously bad happened at her place? Think about her point of view, for fucks sake. Stop feeling bad for yourself and maybe think about how bad this is is for HER. She has to live in a house with those people.” Clyde would never admit Snow had a point. He refused to ever give her the satisfaction of being right, though he’d be stupid to ignore her words and continue wallowing in his self pity. He let her say her peace and without a word handed her the blunt, getting up and grabbing his keys, before walking out the door. She called out to him though he wasn’t listening. 

—-------------

Y/N was beyond fucked. She’d spent the past 12 days in isolation in their guest room, only allowed to leave to use the bathroom. She was no longer allowed to eat with her parents at the dinner table, though she didn’t complain, grateful that she didn’t have to see the pathetic excuse of a man she had to call her father. It was lonely, being stuck in her room with no other way out. She knew her phone had survived being thrown by her father though her mother told her he’d confiscated it and planned on never returning it. She didn’t care anymore. Speaking of her mother, she refused to speak with her. She didn’t give a damn if she was more compassionate than her father. She’d shown him the messages and she’d presented the jacket to him, so her predicament was just as much her mothers fault as it was her fathers.

She couldn’t begin to explain how lonely she felt. This wasn’t living. She never knew what living was until she met Clyde. He’d taught her that life was more than just Sunday morning Church services, bible verses to abide by, doing chores around the house, going to school, and sleeping. There was going out at night and meeting new people, listening to music that actually spoke to your soul instead of reiterating tired biblical lessons, eating the foods that actually made you happy and crave for more, and loving so hard that you’d rather spend your entire life in isolation with that other person than breathe without them. Y/N knew that without Clyde, she wasn’t herself, not because she depended on him to live, but because he ingrained himself into her. 

She had a roof over her head, she had food and water and she had clothes, but she had no real substance to her life. And she’d rather be disowned by her family for the rest of her life than continue to live this way.

—----------------

Smoking just wasn’t cutting it out for Clyde at the moment. He’d driven off to a park pretty far from where he lived so he wouldn’t encounter anyone he knew. He needed time to himself. Standing outside his van, he rested against it and crossed his arms while smoking a cigarette, ignoring the ‘NO SMOKING’ sign just a few inches away from him. He wasn’t known for his ability to abide by rules. Snow’s words replayed in his mind constantly. She was annoying. She was annoying, and persistent, but she was right. Hitting the back of his head on his van, he threw his cigarette down on the ground and stepped on it. 

“Godamnit…” he sighed out and ran a hand through his hair. He paced. Was he really going to just let her stay in that toxic environment? Who’s to say his plan would even work though? He’ll never know unless he tries. But if he does try and fail, it’d be a waste of time. 

“Fuck!” He hissed out, smacking his van once, and then twice, before smacking it one final time and backing away. Catching his breath, he backed away and pushed his hair back before getting back in and starting the van.

—--------------

This was not thought out at all, Clyde realizes as he stands in front of her front door. He was either about to get his ass beat or take home the girl of his dreams. Either way, he was shitting his pants. He rang the doorbell and looked down at the ground, muttering under his breath “This is so fucking stupid.” 

He could hear footsteps behind the door and straightened his posture, watching the doorknob jiggle before the door swung open. Clyde studied the man in front of him and the man did the same with him, though his eyes narrowed almost immediately.

“You’ve got some nerve showing up here, boy.” The man, who Clyde assumed was her father, snarled at him. Clyde’s face contorted in disgust at his words. 

“Jesus, could you sound any more like a weird Southern creep? Sorry, is saying Jesus offensive to you people? I don’t give a shit actually- anyways, ya kind of left me with no choice here but to make sure my girlfriend was still alive…” Clyde rambled, though he knew he was only making his case worse when he saw her father clench his fist in the corner of his eye. 

“What are you trying to say? Are you accusing me of murdering my daughter?” Her father scoffed and it took Clyde everything in him to not laugh in his face. 

“It was more of a… never mind.” He shook his head. “Just let me talk to her man, I’ll leave you alone after that.” 

This time it was her father's turn to laugh, though Clyde remained as stoic as he could possibly be with the anger that was slowly bubbling up inside of him. He could see someone moving around in the background and glanced over, seeing her mother. He raised his eyebrows at her and she quickly scurried away after being noticed. He directed his attention back to the man in front of him. 

—---------------

Y/N could hear two voices outside the room and though the other sounded so familiar, she refused to believe it was actually him. There was no way he’d really come for her, and as she lay on her back on the bed provided, she stared up at the ceiling and wondered what would she do if it really were him. Just as she closed her eyes to sleep, the doorknob began to rattle, startling her. There wasn’t reason for anyone to open the door for her at this hour, and she hadn’t asked to use the bathroom. 

She sat up straight and stared at the door as it slowly opened, her mother in clear view. Before Y/N could even ask what was happening, she heard the one voice she swore she’d never hear again, and her heart soared. If she was being fully honest, she didn’t care much for her mother doing this final favor for her, though she gave her a grateful smile nonetheless as she jumped up out of the bed and ran out the door. She didn’t hesitate to run straight to the front door, pausing behind her father. 

“Listen asshole, you’re really testing my patience here-” 

“Watch your language, the lord is watching.” 

“Who gives a damn! Just let me see her-” Clyde stopped completely when he saw her step out from behind her father. His eyes widened and her father turned around to see what he was looking at, growing furious at the sight of his daughter who should have been locked away in a room. 

“You let her out?” He asked her mother, his voice low and Y/N backed away out of fear. Clyde looked over at her and then back at the man, his breath quickening. Things were about to get ugly fast, and they needed to leave. He motioned over for Y/N to walk over, and as she tried to discreetly make her way toward him while her father was distracted, the older man looked over and grabbed her wrist to prevent her from moving any further. Despite her struggles and protests, he wouldn’t let go, tightening his grip on her. She looked over at Clyde for help and he did the only thing he could think of. 

His hand was going to hurt like a bitch after this.

Punching her father square in the jaw, he let go of her and she ran towards Clyde. He groaned and grabbed his jaw, watching as the two fled hand in hand. “Know that you can never come back to this house ever again! No daughter of mine will be another man's slut!” He yelled out to them. They both couldn't be bothered to listen, giggling as they ran, the cold air hitting their faces. Once they were finally out of sight Clyde pulled her in, his hand cupping the back of her neck as the two crashed their lips against one another. Giggling in between kisses they struggled to pull apart, lips stuck in a dance with each other, and that’s how they intended to stay for as long as they lived. 

--------------------------

a/n: holy shit this was long. to be honest, i lost a lot of motivation towards the end which is why it isn’t the best, but i really did try my best! i hope you all enjoyed<33

[keouil]

desire tastes different if god bore you hungry

“gojo can’t say no to her,” yaga comments. “ever notice that?” 4k. gojo/shoko. fluff. also on ao3.

Getou is the first to notice.

They’re walking back to school from a midnight konbini run, pale moonlight streaming in through the gaps in the trees. This late into a school night Yaga would have usually schooled them a hundred ways into obedience and called them out for breaking curfew again, but evidently being thrust into premature guardianship of a panda who was a Panda meant he had significantly less time babysitting other minors. That, and the fact they let Shoko stand guard outside the faculty building.

“Uh,” Getou stares unsurely at the mounting pile of food crammed in the single eco bag they brought. “Weren’t we just going to get ice cream..?”

Gojo, already sucking on a lollipop, also looks down at the bag nestled under his arm. “We have ice cream.”

“You bought out an entire shelf of deserts,” Getou points out.

“I wasn’t sure which one was the best,” Gojo counters right back.

Getou keeps a steady gaze on him, noting the moonlight dancing on his eyes and the usual spring in his step. That was nothing new, his inability to stay still. What is, however, is maybe:

“Are you sure it’s not just because you freaked out hearing her scream?”

Gojo falters in his step a little. “Tch,” he clicks his tongue. “Like you didn’t.”

“I’m used to girls and their hormonal mood swings,” Getou recounts, taking the other half of the bag and slinging it under his fingers. They walked with it hanging between them. “You forget—you’re the only one of us who grew up in a freaky clan compound isolated from modern society.”

“Well,” Gojo gestures around them, grinning. “I’m learning, aren’t I?” 

“I’m pretty sure leaping to your feet the moment Shoko yelled at us to get her food or she’ll skin us alive and proceeding to buy out an entire shop’s worth of parfaits is exactly the kind of thing only clan kids do,” Getou retorts, too amused for his own good. “I doubt that’s real world training at all.”

Gojo shoves him, maybe a little playfully, maybe a little not. “What would you have done then?” he declares. “If you know so much about everything?”

“First of all,” Getou starts, tugging back his side of the bag that was now dangerously nearing overflow levels. Really, Gojo and his temper. “I would have actually waited for her to finish talking.”

Gojo blinks. “I waited,” he says, confident. “She wanted ice cream.”

Getou flicks his forehead with his free hand. “She wasn’t done talking, you idiot!” he says. “You heard her complaining about period cravings and teleported us the fuck out within the next second!”

Not a single strand of comprehension makes its way to Gojo’s face. 

“I feel like you’re getting to a point here that I’m not seeing.”

Getou abruptly stops a few steps away from the red torii gates.

“I’m saying,” he elaborates, patience paper-thin but enduring. “To not panic right away, Satoru. You did the same thing at target practice last week. Pretty sure Yaga is still annoyed you called him back to school in the middle of a meeting for no reason.”

“The blood thing?” Gojo looks even more confused.

Getou counts to three in his head. “No,” he breathes out, evenly. “I’m talking about you accidentally hitting Shoko’s arm with your cursed pen and flipping out in the clinic. She has RCT, you fool, she could have managed just fine. You throwing a tantrum just made things worse for everyone.”

Gojo blinks once, twice. “She was bleeding.”

“Of a fucking kiddie scratch by a Mongol pen,” Getou rolls his eyes, tugging his half of the bag just to irk him. “That didn’t even need RCT to begin with. A simple band-aid would have done the trick.”

“You didn’t think to tell me when all this was happening?” Gojo tugs the bag right back, glaring at him accusingly.

Getou rolls his eyes again. “You wouldn’t even let me carry her.” 

“Please,” Gojo scoffs, guiding them back up the stairs. “You think she did? I practically had to hold her down kicking and screaming.”

“What is it then?” Getou prods. “You scared of her or something?”

“Aren’t you?” Gojo hisses right back.

Getou thinks on it. “I probably should,” he concedes. “But she likes me too much.”

“Shoko hates everyone and will use us as human shields for Utahime the second she can,” Gojo insists. “And you know it.”

“Even so,” Getou shrugs.

Gojo huffs, annoyed. “Exactly,” he grits out. “Even so.” 

They find Shoko back in Getou’s room. She was sprawled out in his bed, hair fanning out over the covers, and reading the latest issue of Naruto. His mini-fridge had been totally ran through, granola bars haphazardly half-opened and half-eaten that is almost laughably a picture of someone convincing themselves they like protein bars out of necessity and giving up halfway. Getou would have to do another grocery run that week, with Shoko assaulting half his fridge and rendering most of the contents useless.

“Did you get mango like I asked?” is the first thing she says, not even bothering to look up from her book. 

“Mango, vanilla, pomegranate, strawberry,” Getou lists off, placing the carton by her head. “The whole damn forest if you will.”

“I hate strawberry,” Shoko says tonelessly. Gojo was already plopped down next to her, skimming the manga. “Get rid of it.”

“It’s for me,” Gojo offers, reaching out to still her flipping hands. “Wait, slow down, Shoko, I wasn't finished with the page yet.”

Shoko abruptly turns to her side, completely blocking his view.

“Kakashi dies.”

Getou barely manages to hold Gojo down from stabbing her in the eye with a plastic fork.

-

“Anyone want my tomato?”

Getou’s chopsticks are already making their way over to grab it from Shoko’s plate, when another pair beats him to it.

“Oi,” Getou scowls, side-eyeing him from the corner of his eye.

Gojo doesn’t even hide the shit-eating grin on his face, the corners of his mouth caked with nori flakes. “Too slow!” he slurs, furikake flying everywhere. 

Getou makes a face before shoving a wad of napkins his way. He looks over at Shoko’s lunch again, frowning. “What have you even been eating these past few days?”

Shoko doesn’t hide her disdain as she frowns down at her food. “Protein,” she grumbles, poking at a piece of steamed chicken. Getou flicks her chopsticks with his to make her stop. Shoko glares up at him before continuing, more woefully, “For stamina building or whatever.”

“What do you need muscle for?” Gojo muffles, still scarfing down the rest of his karaage. 

Getou considers her a moment. “You’re training, then?”

Shoko makes a loose shrug of approval, still looking pitifully down her lunch. “Not as intense as you guys do,” she says. “I already told Yaga I want to be a non-combatant. But he still wants me as limber as possible just in case.”

Getou and Gojo share a look.

It’s true they’d been deployed on more and more missions as a two-man cell, but Shoko was never too far from the area and was always strategically located to be called on for back-up if and when situations called for it. She’d always been on the petite side, and they had in fact checked themselves, one bored April afternoon: light as a feather, if the almost weightless way Getou could carry her in one arm or Gojo could transport them both easily was any indication.

“I can cook for you?” Getou offers instead. “I know some protein-rich recipes that don’t taste as bland.”

Shoko trusts his cooking, he knows; they all do. When you make a living out of eating and digesting curses, it helps to find a few ways to season around the bile. So it doesn’t really come as a surprise when Shoko gives him just the briefest hint of a smile, a wordless thanks.

“I don’t suppose either of you eat lentil?” Shoko looks at them hopefully, the closest to pleading they’d ever gotten from her. Getou feels Gojo stiffen, almost imperceptibly, at his side.

Getou looks over her soup, remorseful. “Ah, sorry, Shoko,” he starts. “We’re—”

A hand shoots out from beside him to drag the bowl away. By the time he turns his head, Gojo is already finishing the last drop of the lentil soup that clearly didn’t look as savory as he was savoring it. 

“Done!” Gojo yells out triumphantly, grinning from ear to ear. 

Getou raises a brow. Gojo kicks his foot from under the table.

Shoko mumbles her thanks before standing up, dragging her tray with her. “I need to get seconds,” she says, irately. “You guys want anything?”

Getou waves her off at the same time Gojo calls out, “Milk yoghurt!”

It doesn’t take five seconds for the red spots to start appearing on Gojo’s neck, hot and fiery and angry. Getou smacks him on the head when he’s sure Shoko isn’t looking. 

“Idiot,” he hisses. “You’re allergic to lentil. We both are.”

“I know,” Gojo woefully rubs the spot on his neck, but still, that same sliver of triumph sneaks its way through the lopsided grin he gives him not a moment after. “But unlike you, I have RCT.”

-

Shoko is the one who gets the message.

“He texted you?” Gojo asks, a little breathless, a little unmoored. “Suguru did? Are you sure?”

It’s a testament to how much they’re both knee deep in their anger but recognize enough not to lash it out on each other when, instead of recoiling, Shoko just takes a breath, and says calmly: “Yes. A few minutes ago.”

Gojo was going to feel personally wronged, she knows. He was going to start doubting the gravity of everything he’d ever known if the near life-shattering mission they just did in Okinawa was going to be dismissed as simply as opting to text her instead of him. 

She doubts Getou meant it that way, but she also knows Gojo’s not going to see it that way now that they’ve become so unhealthily codependent. He might even be a little mad at her. She knows this to be true in her bones, because had the situation been reversed, she’d be a little mad at him too.

Yaga coughs to break the tension. 

“Where is he?” asks Yaga, eyebrow raised.

Shoko directs her attention to him, feeling the ground beneath her settle just a fraction at his composure. “Shinjuku,” she reveals. “Somewhere by Omoide Yokocho.”

Gojo is still trying to wrap his mind around it, the wheels in his head going a mile a minute. Shoko recognizes the disorientation, has long past worked through hers because she knows Gojo will need a minute for this, if not, forever.

“I’ll go,” Shoko declares.

That breaks Gojo out of it. “I’ll go with you.”

Shoko doesn’t say anything. She expected at least this much, and nods balefully.

Yaga looks back and forth between them, the line of his stare assessing and maybe a little pitying. They normally wouldn’t even ask for permission and bolted to carthage burning right then and there, but that was before. When you have a classmate who turns into a mass murderer in less than the time it takes for a season to change, it makes sense they would need guidance this time around. 

"You can go," Yaga finally decides, nodding at Gojo. "But Shoko stays."

"The fuck she does," Shoko finds herself blurting out at the same time Gojo says, "No."

“Listen here you two,” Yaga levels them both with a look. “There have been enough casualties this term. There have been enough sacrifices for a year. We will not be adding any more than is necessary.”

Shoko looks affronted. “Do—” she starts. “We’re not going to—we’re just going to talk.”

Yaga looks over at Gojo, mouth set in a grim line. Yes, he eyes him knowingly, Some talk.

“He’s a special grade criminal, Shoko,” Yaga turns to her, to his benefit softens his tone as much as he can. “And as of right now I can’t afford anyone of a lesser rank—let alone a non-combatant—dealing with him. Not when you’re the only RCT user we have on active duty.”

“Gojo can use RCT!” Shoko pleads, clutching tighter to her phone. Yaga hears a jingle of a keychain attached to it, grimaces slightly when he sees the exact same pair on Gojo’s, and doesn’t have to look to confirm, Getou’s. “It's not like we’re not going to war. We just want to talk to him," she stops. "I want to talk to him.”

“Gojo, like you, is a sorcerer who is bound to the regulations of this school first,” Yaga lets his eyes flicker towards him, chiding if not burning. “Isn’t that right?”

Gojo says nothing, just staring at the panda charm sloshing against Shoko’s phone.

"Satoru." Yaga calls out, finality in his tone.

Gojo blinks, about to reply, when:

"Gojo." Shoko says, and really, that's all it takes.

He's going to give in, Yaga swears bitterly, He always gives in. 

In the three years he’s taught them, he's never seen Gojo even summon so much as a shake of his head to any of her requests. Half of it’s to do with how codependent they all unexpectedly become, the secular and often isolating nature of being jujutsu students in training. Even Getou spoiled her. But he’s never been able to tell her no and wouldn't start now. 

Especially now.

Quick like lightning Gojo is already next to her, wrapping an arm around her side, bowing his head low to whisper a gentle but firm reminder to hold on. He lifts his gaze to Yaga's, a wordless apology playing out on his face.

They’re gone by the time Yaga blinks.

-

“Say that again?”

Shoko clicks her tongue at him, reprimanding, but not without its usual malice. “Sweden,” she repeats. “I’m going to Sweden.”

“Whatever the hell for?” Gojo gently moves her out of the way, taking charge of the grocery cart. They’re in Daimaru on a Saturday night, and being anything less than swift would have any of the hundred obaa-sans crawling through the grocery chain call them out for being entitled, disrespectful millennials. “I thought you found a post-doc program in Hyogo?”

“I did,” Shoko falls into step easily next to him. “And that same professor recommended a molecular neuroscience program in Sweden. They do specialized research on cell anatomy there, you know, research that I can’t access easily here in Japan.”

Gojo looks over the fruit aisle. “Sure about that?” he asks. “I can call some people—”

“No need,” Shoko waves him off easily, plucking a few strawberries off the wagon and placing them in the cart. “I already checked with Yaga. He has some contacts there that can set me up, and maybe someone to teach me advanced RCT too.”

“I can teach you,” blurts Gojo without thinking, zeroing on the fact she wasn’t even looking over the mangoes, nevermind this grocery trip was supposed to be for the whole dorm. “I know RCT.”

“You know as much as you need to know to heal yourself,” Shoko points out breezily, coming up next to him to give him a knowing look. “And I need to know as much of everything to heal everyone. It’s not the same, Gojo.”

Gojo looks away first. Shoving a pack of mangoes to the cart, asks gruffly, “How long?”

Shoko eyes the mangoes but doesn’t say anything. Gojo’s not sure what he’d do if she took them out, maybe burn the whole department down? He was growing more temperamental these days, growing out of that teenage jailbait skin and skinning himself thin into the kind of body that took care of other people. That other people now looked to for caring.

“Two years,” replies Shoko. 

Gojo skids to a stop. “Two years?”

“That’s what I said.”

“You’re leaving me for two years?”

He can feel the beginnings of a laugh play out in her lungs, amusement dancing in her features. “Since when were you so clingy?”

“Since always and you know it,” Gojo wheels the cart forward again, stopping just when he’s right next to her. He looks on, trying to gauge how serious she was considering they're maybe a week from the first day of April and had taken it upon themselves to be as mean with their practical jokes knowing there was no one else left to understand. “I have always been clingy and you know this so you really can’t leave me alone with Yaga for two years unsupervised, Shoko, or else we might end up just really killing each other. Or I’ll let him. Sensei chain of command and all that shit.”

“Ijichi is still here,” Shoko trails off, adding a few milk cartons to the pile. Morinaga, his favorite. He really might just burn the whole block down. “And Meimei and Utahime and even Nanami, if you play nice.”

They reach the rice corner where Shoko vainly tries heaving a full load to their pile alone, lean but slim arms straining to even get the bag upright. Gojo looks on in amusement for five seconds, before finally giving in and gently moving her aside.

“I’ll visit every summer,” Gojo looks down at her after they’ve managed to lodge it in. “And every winter and spring and fall.”

“Please don’t.”

“You can’t stop me.”

“No, but Yaga can.”

“He can’t stop me.”

“Missions will.”

“No, they won’t.”

“Then,” Shoko turns to him just as they’re about to round a corner, her gaze softening. “Megumi and Tsumiki will.”

And goddamn her, Gojo thinks, How can he say no to that?

-

“How many are we supposed to get?”

“I think three.”

“Why are you holding seven then?”

Megumi blinks, looking down at the edofurin strings wrapped around his fingers. “Ah,” he says. “Gojo likes the charmed ones. You can’t get this in Tokyo.”

They’re on the last day of an excursion mission in Himeji, the sound of izakaya stalls setting up and out of towners wheeling in their luggage across the small night market accompanying their last minute shopping. They had a list of souvenirs from the second years to purchase—Nishitomo crab crackers for Inumaki, the local kanzashi for Maki, a whetstone from Fushimi Inari for Yuuta, the representative animal plushies for Panda—that they only had time to shop for now.

Gojo also repeatedly gushed about the furin wind chimes he fleetingly saw the last time he was there, but also made it aggravatingly clear he was afforded no time whatsoever to go back and would my lovely sweet students mind getting a few for their lovely sweet sensei?

Yuji was quick to list down his preferred designs on the spot. Nobara pretended not to hear him. Megumi didn’t even need to listen to his passionate speech about the furin history and why he wanted this and that, having long catalogued exactly the kind of print he was eyeing: orange petals and golden brown tree bark. The color of changing autumn leaves. 

“Okay,” replies Nobara hesitantly, still looking over the hanging tassels dangling off his arm. “Just seems like a lot, don’t you think?”

“It’s a superstition thing,” Megumi shares, tailing them in the artisan shop. “You hang furin on your office for goodluck. These charmed ones from Himeji chase the bad spirits away, like the Inari.”

Yuji and Nobara, this time, look over at him weirdly in uniform fashion.

Megumi flushes. “Or something, I don’t know!” he grumbles. “He doesn’t shut up about it ever! You’re bound to pick up on things!”

Nobara takes a closer look at the design. “These are November furin,” she notes. “Isn’t he born in December?”

“These aren’t for Gojo,” mumbles Megumi some more, growing more annoyed at being a glorified errand boy. “He wants to get this for Ieiri-san. She’d never buy it for herself, any way.”

“Shoko?” asks Yuji, bringing a basket over to their growing items and carefully untangling the threads. “Why?”

“Look at the price,” Megumi takes particular care in depositing the glass balls, because Gojo would know. He tugs the basket closer to him when he notices Nobara making grabby hands for it, but not before the price tag dangles in their line of vision just enough to see the staggering number.

Predictably, Yuji and Nobara gasp in horror.

“A ball of glass costs this much?!”

“This is almost my entire savings!”

Megumi waves them off easily, already making his way to the self-checkout. “They’re charmed by Shinto priests who used to be sorcerers,” he explains. “It makes sense.”

“I think growing up under Gojo’s black card has significantly altered your sense of price economics,” Nobara trails after him, still looking at the basket, but now with a little more glint in her eye that practically spelled out money. Megumi tucks it further into him. “A wind bell cannot seriously cost this much. It’s a fucking wind bell, Fushiguro.”

“A charmed wind bell,” Megumi emphasizes, depositing the basket carefully into the counter. “And when have you ever known Gojo to spare no expense?”

“For himself?” Yuji comes up at his side, also still a little shaken. “Almost always and in disgusting levels of hedonism. For other people? For this much?” he gestures at the price tag, wincing at the amount of 0s. “Never.”

“He pays for my tuition,” Megumi finds himself saying.

“You’re basically his son,” Yuji parrots back unyielding.

Megumi looks downright offended. “I,” he croaks out. “Am not.”

“Am too,” shoots Nobara, plucking off the wallet Megumi was halfway through rummaging. She zeroes in on the shiny black plastic and tugs it out, open mirth in her eyes. “And how nice for Daddy to give us endless shopping money.”

Megumi yanks it out of her hands. “This is only for emergency purposes.”

Nobara looks back and forth between him and what were essentially strips of paper tied to a transparent ball. “And this is an emergency?”

This time, the well-knowing smirk Megumi gives them clues them in on exactly how alike he’d unconsciously adapted some of Gojo’s more annoying quirks.

“With Ieiri-san?” he cocks a brow, wicked. “It might as well be a matter of life and death.”

-

“Gojo can’t say no to her,” Yaga comments. “Ever notice that?”

They’re at Yuji’s official homecoming party after being, for all intents and legal purposes, declared dead for the better part of 3 months. Cake is being munched on gleefully by the second years, Nobara threatening to make him a snowman out of icing if Yuji didn’t stop pestering her for all the latest gossip he missed out on in the jujutsu grapevine. Panda was stealthily trying to get more than the assigned 2 slices per person, Yuuta side-eyeing him in the moments he wasn’t busy hanging off Maki’s every word.

Megumi was somewhere between Gojo and Shoko, looking three lifetimes done with whatever conversation they were having. 

More than once Yaga saw him attempt to open his mouth, only to be silenced harshly by Gojo through a dismissive hiss, or as amicably by Shoko through a well-placed hand on his shoulder. Last Yaga passed them, he thinks he overheard Gojo say something about buying him an entirely new set of uniforms after he damaged some of it during the exchange. 

Absolutely not, Shoko seethed. The one he has right now is fine. People are dying and starving and you’re already on thin ice with your spending. Your spoiled charge will live, Gojo.

“Sorry, what?” Nanami asks, looking up from the newspaper he brought into the party because apparently being a jujutsu sorcerer didn’t divorce the corporate slave in him who always wanted to be updated on current affairs. “What’s this about Gojo?”

Yaga eyes his former students again, still verbally sparring. “How many times have you asked Gojo to formalize the severance pay for retired sorcerers?”

“Since before I even accepted his offer,” Nanami huffs, straightening his newspaper. “I made him promise to fulfill it during my interview.”

“And?” Yaga prods. “What’s the progress?”

It doesn’t take Nanami a beat to answer. “Nonexistent.”

Yaga chuckles, picking up a flask that was absolutely apple juice, ignoring Panda’s judging stare from across the room.

“Bring it up with Shoko,” he suggests. “She should know a thing or two from her experience interning in Sweden. Or better yet, wait for her to bring it up with Gojo.”

Nanami doesn’t look convinced. “Does she have that much admin pull?”

“Not with the admin,” Yaga looks on at Shoko dragging Megumi to the buffet table, handing him a plate that she starts unceremoniously piling with mountains of food. Gojo follows laboriously behind them, shoulders dejected and resigned.

Ah, Yaga thought, I thought so.

“But I think you'll find life has a way of working out in her favor no matter what happens.”

-

By the end of that week, Nanami walks into his office with a stack of papers neatly folded and labelled at his desk.

Tokyo Jujutsu Prefectural Highschool Severance Package Information Packet, the contents all formally printed and alphabetized. It even had a reference index and annotated tabs; such thoroughness and attention to detail he knows Gojo not only actively dislikes but also avoids. This is the work of someone with a more clinical routine, used to the feel and flow of paper and corporate bureaucracy.

And sure enough, when he flips through the proposal packet he devised, eyes glazing over the usual signatures—Yaga, Gagukanji, Utahime, etc.—stops short when he notes the signature next to Gojo’s under co-signee. 

Apparently all it took was Shoko barging into his office with a What’s this I hear about you not compensating retired sorcerers properly? for him to spring into action. But Nanami thinks amusedly, sinking further into his chair and remembering the instinctive way Gojo always buckled at even the slightest hint of discomfort from her, that it wasn’t so much as him acting out of principle; but maybe for something else entirely.

Something that went completely beyond it.