#cherry boy 17
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what i actually wanted to talk about:
yln foreign released an ep called "#BIGYMOVEMENT" a while ago! and it's really nice and solid. a bit basic but i love basic trap so. fav song: i'm god sent; i like its hook. the only sad part is that it's short; 5 short songs. youtube link
roh yun ha and cherry boy 17 also released an album ("경리단 blockas") and i strongly recommend. 6 songs, 17 min, no features. this is what a collaboration sounds like! the way they switch mid-verse so flawlessly is super nice and makes regular collabs look artificial. you can tell they're really close. the synergy is amazing. the styles of the songs are also varied, like both of them bring their own styles into the thing and sometimes one dominates, sometimes the other. i can't find the full album, only single songs on yt. i can't even name a fav, they songs are all great! here's CU, the calm outro song.
some other ppl also released albums but i'm only listening to fleeky abng's akuma and kitsyojii's fly besides these two. still a lot of new music is not that exciting but i'm happy about these few songs! ^_^
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It's really weird when you know someone in a context different from how everybody else knows them so you look at them and you still kind of see that person they used to be
#this post is about the boy i dated my senior year who was so incredibly sweet tbh wouldnt be the person i am today if i hadnt met him#but he was so fucked up he had so many issues it was really hard so it didnt work out but i loved him and i think he loved me too#but hes in a moderately successful band now which i just found out about do i looked them up and theyre good#but its so weird because its like i know that when you were 17 you wanted to be an underwater welder#i helped you clean your room at your grandmas house because you were so sad you couldnt do it yourself#i ditched 5th period AP English to sit on the steps behind the auditorium and listen to you talk about whatever#you pushed me on the swings and we took the bus to the movie theater and you liked cherry wraps and you played me my favorite songs#i havent REALLY thought about that guy in years and we were only together MAYBE 6 months but its so weird what you remember about people#and especially how you remember how they made you feel because he made me feel so good like i was in control#all my previous relationships was me trying to desperately please someone who wouldnt do the same for me#and honestly a lot of my relationships since have been the same especially in college and with the one girl who honestly if she called me#today i would drop everything and go be with her again no questions because i cant get her out of my head#but stuff witj him was never ever like that it was so easy it was like breathing even though it ended messy i have 0 regrets#and its nice to know that things are going well for him because honestly he changed my life a little bit#the way i dont give a fuck now is something i learned from him#ill probably delete this later but you know
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경리단블락 (Gyeongnidan Block)
see me on top come here gyeongnidan block illowa play tonight she told me mayday waeiri nopa kkeoryeohae taeksi jocha I’m going to die ah ha ha ha neomunopa ah ha ha ha ya waeiri nopa neomu nopa never slow down eonje dochakhae mutji mara jullae nado eopseunikka Knowhow ㅎㅎㅎheoltteokgeoryeo dari mak ㄸㄸtteoreo jamkkamman stop Don’t run up ya jomman cheoncheonhi georeo jinjjaro deoneun mot georeo uri…
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 17: Alone
Summary: Your pack has left on their first deployment since you joined them, leaving you alone on base.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 6,866
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, ANGST, anxiety, fear, nightmares, PTSD, trauma, just super depressing overall.
A/N: I'm so ready for these next two chapters, you have no idea. Things are happening, things are gonna happen, it's just...so good. You'll see 🤭. They're pretty heavy chapters emotionally, but don't worry fluff will be coming very soon. I won't leave you hanging too much for too long.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
“We'll only be gone for a few days. A week at most. Dr. Keller will take you to and from meals and anywhere else you may need to go. If you need anything, contact Kate. We'll call when we can.”
He leaves you with a kiss to your forehead. You’re forced to stand there and watch his back as he boards the plane, the ramp closing and sealing you off from them. They all looked guilty, as if it was their fault they had to leave, as if they were suffering as much as you at the idea of parting, even just for a short period of time.
You don't sleep that night. You lay in your bed and stare at the ceiling until far too late when you decide to abandon it for John's room instead. You slip under the covers, disrupting the immaculately made bed as you surround yourself with his scent. You’re on edge, the barracks far too quiet, far too empty. Every little sound has you tensing, holding your breath. The door is locked, yet it’s not the same without your pack there to protect you. If you scream, no one will hear you now.
You manage to fall asleep at some point in the early hours, your mind plagued with horrible nightmares of monsters devouring and tearing you apart.
You wake with the sun, dragging your feet back to your room. You miss the quiet sounds of your boys getting ready in the morning after their workouts, taking extra care not to be too loud. Now you wish for it. You want them to be loud and wake you, because then they’d be here with you. The hallway feels too empty, the barracks too large. You’ve spent plenty of time alone in the barracks, but it’s never felt like this. They’re not just across base from you, they’re probably in an entirely different country.
You stare at their closed doors, all four of them feeling like voids knowing the rooms behind them are empty. Even Ghost’s closed door feels particularly empty.
You shuffle into your room, locking the door behind you as you get ready for the day. You’re not quite sure what you’re going to do, now that you don’t have them around. You suppose you could just go about your day as you usually do while they’re at training, except you won’t have their inevitable return to fetch you for meals to look forward to.
It’ll be days before you see them again.
If you see them again.
You force that thought back into the recesses of your mind. You won’t entertain it, not now while you’re still trying to process the fact that they’re gone. Even if it is a possibility.
You’re sitting on your bed when the knock comes, clutching your phone in your hand. You don’t want to be without it, in case they call. You don’t want to miss a chance to talk to them, especially if it’s your only chance. Or a call from Kate telling you something happened.
You open the door, Dr. Keller standing in the hallway with a small smile on her face. It doesn’t feel strange having her in this space, even with the rest of your pack gone. She’s been here before, and you trust her.
“How are you doing?” She asks as you step out of your room, closing the door behind you.
“I don’t know.” You say, letting out a sigh. “I couldn’t sleep last night.”
“I don’t blame you. Feels strange, being alone here, huh?”
You nod. “Yeah. It’s too quiet. Too empty.”
“I bet.” You follow her out of the barracks and into the cool morning air. “Let’s get some food in you and then you can take it easy for the rest of the day. I know this is a big adjustment, and it happened rather suddenly.”
“Was gonna happen eventually, though.” You say. “For the three months I was with the CIA, they drilled it into my head that their job would always take priority over everything else. Still sucks.”
“It does. Separation is hard for everyone in a pack, even if it’s short term. Add on the stress of their jobs and I can only imagine what it’s like.”
“I’m trying not to think about that.” You say.
“I think that’s the best thing you can do right now.” She squeezes your arm. “Come on, we’ll get the food to go and we’ll eat in my office. I usually do that anyway. It’s much quieter than the mess.”
You get your breakfast, following Dr. Keller to the medical center. You are silently glad you won’t have to eat in the mess without the protection of your pack. The stares from the others might have been your tipping point, and without Ghost to scare them off, you’re sure it would have only been worse.
“Make yourself at home.” Dr. Keller says, letting you into her office. “You can sit at the desk to eat, if that’s more comfortable. I don’t mind.”
You take her up on the offer, sitting in the chair across from hers at the desk. She moves some papers out of the way before taking a seat herself. It feels almost strange, being so informal in her office, but then again, she’s always been more laid back with the formality between the two of you.
“If there’s one thing I miss, it’s good diner food.” Dr. Keller says as the two of you begin to eat.
You stare down at your porridge for a moment, having gotten used to the change in food over the last almost nine weeks. “I miss a lot of things.”
“Would you ever want to go back and visit America?” Dr. Keller asks.
You shrug. “I don’t know.”
“I’m sure they’d take you, if you asked.” She smiles as you stare up at her in surprise. “I don’t think there’s much they wouldn’t do, if you asked. They care about you a lot.”
“I’m starting to realize that.” You say.
“Good. It’s reassuring to see such strong, natural bonds forming between all of you, despite how the situation came about. You’ve made a lot of good progress already, even with the few bumps in the road.”
It falls silent between the two of you as you eat, finishing your breakfast. Your stomach churns with anxiety, hand closing around the phone in your pocket as if it might ring at any moment. It makes you sick, the thought of what they might be doing, what might be happening right at this very moment.
“Can I ask you something?” You break the silence, needing to take your mind off your swirling thoughts.
“Of course.” She says, looking up from the papers she’d been looking through.
“Since I’m your only patient, what do you do all day?” You ask.
She smiles. “I do a lot of things. After our sessions I log the notes I take and read over them, I make sure your medical chart is up to date, I read through a lot of studies and journals on new research and methods that may be helpful, I talk to colleagues all over the world, including here on base, and I sometimes go around the medical center and sit in on meetings and classes to keep my skills sharp.”
“Do you ever feel like you’re wasting your skills here?”
She shakes her head. “No. Before I took this job, I was caring for sometimes over one hundred omegas at various institutes. It was a high stress environment with long hours. While it was fulfilling work, there’s a high turnover rate for Omega Specialists in that field for a reason. Being a private doctor is a bit of a relief after that, and truthfully, the pay is considerably better.” She folds her arms on her desk, leaning forward. “It’s no less fulfilling than working at institutes. It’s nice to have the time to put together the best care plan for you and your needs.”
“It is nice having an Omega Specialist to myself.” You say. “There were several at the institute, a lot of students doing their residency. They weren’t always...good at their jobs. A lot of them were just going through the motions, doing what the more experienced specialists told them to do.”
“Unfortunately that’s rather common with residents.” She says. “Most of them don’t make it past residency. Like a lot of specialities in medicine, it takes a certain kind of personality to succeed as an Omega Specialist. Not everyone has it in them. I wish more schools and programs would take notice earlier before they get to their residencies and steer them down a different path.” She smiles at you. “Now my question for you. Would you rather hang out in here today, or would you prefer to go back to the barracks? You won’t hurt my feelings either way, nor will you be a bother.”
You think about it for a moment. While your knee jerk answer is to go back to the barracks, what are you going to do? Sit alone in the silence and worry until it makes you sick? Sit in the rec room and watch TV alone and worry about your boys until the next meal time? As much as you want to be alone, you also don’t want to be alone.
“I’d...like to stay here, if that’s okay?” You finally say, making your decision.
“More than okay.” She smiles. “Make yourself at home, do whatever you’d like. Watch YouTube videos, dig into some books, take a nap. You won’t bother me in the slightest. You’re always welcome to hang out in here.”
You look over the titles on the bookshelf, picking one that looks interesting before settling on the couch. You spend the day with Dr. Keller, relaxing in her office and going to meals with her. It doesn’t calm the anxious thoughts by much, but at least the loneliness is abated a bit.
You return to the barracks after dinner, debating whether you should sit in the rec room or just go to your room. The rec room feels too open, too exposed without the safety of your pack, so instead you choose to retreat into your room, locking the door behind you.
You let out a sigh, your shoulders slumping as tears gather in your eyes. Another night without them, another night without the safety and comfort of their presence around you. Another night knowing they’re not on the other side of the wall, a knock or a yell away.
You fight the panic starting to bubble as you get ready for bed, your mind swirling with thoughts of something happening, someone breaking in, someone taking advantage of their absence to get to you. You know it’s an irrational fear. Most of the alphas on base ignore your existence, aside from the couple incidents you’ve had with them. The most they do is stare, though that’s to be expected as an omega.
What if they’re holding back something more sinister, though? What if the only thing stopping them is your pack? This would be their opportune moment.
You’re shaking, eyes wide in fear as you stare at yourself in the mirror. Sure, you’ve learned a few ways to defend yourself, but could you really utilize them? If the moment called for it, could you defend yourself enough to get away? Where would you go? Dr. Keller won’t be in her office all night. Could you run and seek protection from another medical professional that was still working? Could you find a different high ranking official on base and hope they’d help you? Could you go for the guards at the gate and hope they help you?
Or would it be safer to run for the woods? Try to lose whichever alpha decided to attack you and hope you don’t get lost in the trees? You would just have to survive the night, and Dr. Keller would notice you missing come morning. What would she do, though? Call Kate? It’s not like the guys could just come home and help you. Would Kate even tell them something happened and put them at risk of getting distracted? What if something happened to them because of you?
You turn the shower on as cold as it will go, stepping under the spray in your pajamas. You sink to the floor of the shower, letting the cold water snap you out of your panic and prevent you from distressing. No one’s coming through the door, no one’s going to try and hurt you.
Your teeth are chattering by the time you reach up to turn the water off. Violent shivers rock your body, your hands and feet numb. You take deep breaths, feeling more awake and aware than you have since yesterday.
The panic has dropped to almost nothing, your shaking now due to the fact you’re freezing. You strip out of your wet clothes, leaving them in the tub as you wrap a towel around yourself. You’re still shivering violently as you change into warmer pajamas, opting for one of John’s shirts and sweatpants.
You slip under the covers of your bed, piling every blanket you own on top of the covers before tucking yourself against your giant bear. You won’t sleep, but at least you’re not panicking anymore.
The days begin to blend together without the routine of your pack to keep you steady. Dr. Keller comes to get you at the same time as you expect for your breakfast, and then you spend all day with her, sitting in her office, keeping yourself occupied while you wait for an inevitable phone call. It will either be your pack calling to check on you, or it will be Kate with bad news.
You’re not sure which is worse. The anticipation of a call from your pack letting you know they’re all alright, or the dread that it will be Kate telling you something happened to them.
You’re still not sleeping well, the anxiety and the worry you might miss their call meshing with the nightmares that were already plaguing you before they left. You’re exhausted and strung out, the worry beginning to eat you alive. You’re constantly on edge, every little sound close to sending you spiraling.
Your thoughts have slowly shifted from missing your pack to ruminating about the fact they might not be coming back. It’s a risk you’re well aware of. The kinds of things they do put them at risk, every deployment carries the risk of one, or all of them, dying. One thing goes wrong, one small freak accident and your entire pack could be taken from you.
You’re not sure you’d survive that.
Most omegas don’t.
“Still nothing?” Dr. Keller asks as you sit there, staring at your phone for what must have been an hour at least.
You shake your head. “Nothing.”
“Sometimes no news is good news.” She says. “I know you’d prefer to have any news at all, though.”
“I can’t stop thinking...what if something bad has happened?” You say, fingers trembling from gripping your phone so hard.
“Kate promised she’d call if something happened, right?”
You nod. “Yeah.”
“She’s a woman of her word, I can say that much. I’m sure they’re fine. They’re very capable soldiers. They wouldn’t be in Spec Ops if they weren’t, much less on a highly specialized team.” Dr. Keller stands up, moving to the closet. “It’s still hard, not knowing where they are or what they’re doing. I remember when my brother told our parents he was enlisting. Our mother cried for a week straight.” She pulls a pillow and a blanket out of the closet. “I still don’t think she’s completely forgiven him. It’s hard for omegas when someone leaves the pack, even temporarily, especially if you can’t have constant reassurance that they’re alright.”
Your brows pinch in a frown at her words as she kneels on the floor beside the couch. “Your mom was an omega?”
She nods. “And dad was a beta. Wound up with two beta children, though I don’t think mom complained much about that. We grew up in a big pack with lots of people around us. I think mom would have been worse off if it had just been her and dad.” She sets the pillow on the couch, gently prying the phone from your fingers. “Come on, lay down.” She directs you.
You do as she says, laying down on the couch, resting your head on the pillow. She covers you with the blanket, tucking it up around your neck. “Is that why you’re so good at this job?”
She smiles, setting your phone on the arm of the couch above your head. “Maybe. I think it gave me more empathy for omegas and the struggles you face every day.” She gently squeezes your arm. “They’ll be alright. They’re probably just as worried about you, as you are them. But, you need to get some rest. You don’t have to sleep, just laying with your eyes closed will help.”
You tilt your head, glancing up at your phone. “What if I fall asleep and it rings?”
“Then I’ll make sure you get a chance to answer it.” She says, squeezing your arm again. “I promise. Get some rest.”
You let out a breath, not wanting to risk falling asleep, but you close your eyes anyway. It doesn’t stop the thoughts from coming on, the nightmarish images the anxiety feeds your brain flashing before your eyes. What if they’re lying dead somewhere right now? What if something’s happened to Kate and she can’t tell you? Would you ever find out? Would you ever know?
Despite the anxiety prickling through your body, the warmth of the blanket begins to lull you into a false sense of security. Perhaps it’s the sheer exhaustion from your lack of sleep over the last couple weeks, paired with the exhaustion from your constant worrying, but you find yourself slipping between sleep and consciousness as you lay there on Dr. Keller’s couch. You don’t mean to, but you can’t help it as you begin to drift off to sleep.
Screaming. It’s loud, piercing your ears. Something’s holding you, hands clutching at your form desperately. It hurts, nails biting into your skin, fingers gripping too hard, yet you don’t care.
“You won’t take her from me! I won’t let you!”
You’re crying, sobs wracking your body as you cling just as tightly to the form holding you.
Hands grab at you, squeezing and pulling, trying to free you from the constricting grip around you, but it won’t let go. You cling to it just as desperately, afraid of what will happen if you let go.
You know what will happen if you let go.
“She’s no daughter of mine.”
The words bite into you, slicing through your skin straight into your very soul, the prickling pain of your own flesh and blood rejecting you making your skin crawl. How could he just let you go like that? How could he turn against you so easily, over something you have no control over?
Pain erupts across your entire body. Something snaps, your ears ringing from more screams. You’re being pulled away from the safety of the hold around you, your body going cold as the warmth around you disappears. Hands close around you, fingers ripping into you as you're torn from your mother’s hold and into the unknown.
“Easy, easy.”
You’re gasping, breathing wheezing as tears choke you.
“Deep breaths. In and out, nice and slow.”
Your breath hitches, catching painfully in your chest.
“You’re alright, you’re safe.”
You force your eyes open, blinded by tears as something is tucked into your arms. You squeeze the bear against your chest, hiccuping as you fight for control over your emotions. You’re on the couch in Dr. Keller’s office still. You’re not at what was once your home, not stuck in the nightmare you’ve lived over and over.
Slowly breathing becomes easier, your sobs quieting to sniffles. The tears still spill down your cheeks, dampening the fur of the bear in your arms.
“You’re alright,” Dr. Keller says, rubbing your back gently.
You slowly push yourself up to sit, pulling your knees against your chest. You press your palms into your eyes, trying to get the tears to stop. Dr. Keller shifts her position, sitting next to you on the couch.
“How long have you been having nightmares?” She asks quietly, watching you as you try to calm yourself.
“Since my heat.” You say, voice rough from crying. You wrap your arms around the bear again, holding onto it tightly.
“You haven’t said anything about it.” She says gently, shifting slightly so she’s facing you.
“I didn’t want to.” You say quietly, shame burning through you. She’s not reprimanding you, yet you can’t help but feel like you’ve done something wrong. “I shouldn’t be having them, I mean...it’s not even that bad compared to...compared to what the others have gone through. The kinds of nightmares they have.”
“It might seem that way to you, but trauma is still trauma. It might not be the worst thing someone else has gone through, but it is the worst thing you’ve been through.”
Her words give you pause. You’ve never quite thought of it that way. The kinds of things your pack does, the things they’ve seen, the things they’ve done, are far worse than anything you’ve experienced. The things you’ve experienced may pale in comparison, but they’re your experiences. No one else’s.
“If you want to talk about them, that’s what I’m here for.” Dr. Keller says, leaving things open for you to decide what to do.
You don’t have to tell her. She won’t force you to do it. She won’t force you to do anything, to say anything you don’t want to. It might be nice, though, to let someone know, someone neutral, someone who won’t tell anyone else. It might be nice to finally put into words the things that are eating you, have been eating you.
You lay back down, curling up into a tight ball on the couch. You hug the bear close to your chest, letting it ground you. “My nightmares, they’re always about the day I left for the institute.” You start, taking a shaky breath. “I haven’t had them in years.”
“You were sent early after your presentation, right?” She asks.
“The day after.” You answer.
“Being sent to an institute can be traumatic when done within the normal time after presentation. I can’t even imagine what being sent that soon was like.” She lets out a breath. “Sometimes when we go through something traumatic, the brain and body hold onto it, because we don’t feel safe enough to process it in the moment. The brain can hold onto it for years, until we finally feel safe enough. Then the brain can start to try and heal from that trauma without us even realizing it.”
“You think that’s what’s happening?” You ask.
“It’s possible. Going through your heat successfully, being claimed, building close bonds with your pack, all could aid in helping you finally feel safe enough to process that trauma. Things usually feel worse as the brain works through the trauma, which could be why you’re having nightmares about that event suddenly.”
“Is there anything that will make them stop?” You ask.
“There’s some things we can do together that might help the process. I’m more than happy to help you with it, if that’s what you’d like to do. If you decide to, I think it will be a good idea to set up appointments at least twice a week, at least at first.”
“What are we gonna tell John?”
She gives you a look. “Well, I’d advise telling him the truth. I think you should tell your pack about your nightmares. They can at least offer you some comfort and understanding. Of course, that’s entirely up to you and what you want to do.”
You let out a sigh, getting comfortable on the couch again. Dr. Keller adjusts the blanket over you, squeezing your arm gently.
“Think about it.” She says. “We can talk about it more after they get back and things have settled back to normal again.”
You’re brushing your teeth when the call comes. You quickly spit into the sink, not even bothering to rinse your mouth before you’re answering, anxiety twisting your stomach into knots. You hadn’t even checked the screen to see who was calling. You’re just anxious to hear from someone after days of silence.
“Hello?”
There’s a beat of silence before the voice on the other side responds, the audio distant and slightly garbled, but you hardly notice.
“Hi, sweetheart.”
You fight back a sob, your inhale shaky as relief floods through you. “Alpha.” The title slips through your lips before you can even catch it, your body nearly vibrating at hearing John’s voice after so many days.
“I’m here. We’re all here.” He says, distant voices sounding in the background.
A smile tugs at your lips, happy tears blurring your eyes as you collapse on your bed. “Missed you.”
“I know, we’ve missed you too.”
You move to your bed, flopping down on the mattress in relief. “You alright? Is everyone alright?”
“We’re alright. Few bumps and bruises, but nothing we haven’t had before. How are you holding up?”
The urge to spill the truth to him is strong. You’ve been depressed and worried and there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by that you haven’t panicked about something. You’ve been having horrible nightmares and haven’t been sleeping. There’s an ache in your chest that won’t go away, and you’re afraid it might kill you if you don’t see them soon.
“I’m alright. Sad cause I miss you a lot.”
“I know, sweetheart.” There’s a sound on the other end, something you can’t make out and the line buzzes for a second. For a moment you’re worried you were disconnected, but John’s voice cuts through the noise again. “We’re finishing up here soon, and we’ll be home in a couple of days.”
You can’t help but sigh in relief at his words. They’re alright. They’re all safe, and they’re going to be home soon. You’re going to get to see them soon, touch them again, smell them again. “Hurry back.” You say, your voice shaky with emotion.
“We’ll try, sweet girl. We have to get going, but we’ll be back before you know it.”
Saying goodbye doesn't hurt as much as you expect it to. Maybe it’s the relief from hearing their voices, from knowing they’re really alright paired with the knowledge that they’ll be home soon. Two days doesn’t seem so far now that you know that’s all that stands between you and seeing your pack again.
You roll over in your bed, pressing your face into the pillows. Nothing smells like them anymore. Not their shirts that they scented before they left, not your pillows or stuffed animals. The couch in the rec room, and even John’s bed have started to smell more like you.
The first thing you’re going to do when they return is get a big whiff of each of them, even if you have to tackle Ghost to do it. You want to refresh their scents all over everything, roll around in them until they’re the only thing you can smell.
For the first time in days, you manage to sleep that night. It’s not much, but it’s a deep, nightmare-free sleep, aided by the relief from the constant anxiety that has plagued you.
You update Dr. Keller the next day on the news of your pack’s imminent return. You elect to spend the afternoon in the barracks instead of her office, the building suddenly not seeming quite so empty now that you know they’re coming home soon. You clean up John’s room, making his bed again after you’d made a mess of it trying to sleep. They’re all going to be tired when they return, and you want to help them in any way that you can. You pick up your room as well, even though you know you likely won’t be spending much time in it for a while. You’re going to latch yourself onto them and not let go until the ache in your chest has disappeared.
You bristle when the knock sounds at your door. You glance up from where you had been sorting the clothes you’d stolen from the guys from your own so you can get them to scent them again. You’re not expecting a knock yet. It’s too early to be Dr. Keller coming to get you for dinner, and she would have announced herself like she has been, if it was her.
That means someone else is in the barracks. Someone you don’t know.
Your mind races as you try to think of who it could be. You don’t know many others on base, and certainly no one that would enter the barracks just like that, unless it’s an emergency. Is there an emergency? You’re almost certain if there was an emergency on base, then there would be alarms going off or something. There’d be some sign that something was happening, but it’s quiet outside, or at least, there’s no noises you’re not expecting.
The knock comes again, louder and sharper. Whoever is on the other side is obviously not going to just go away. You debate calling Dr. Keller, telling her someone is outside your door, getting her to help you on this, but instead you grab your phone, holding it in your hand as you move towards the door.
You unlock it, holding your hand on the handle in case the person on the other side tries to force their way in. They don’t, so you open it slowly, just enough that you can see out. There’s a soldier outside your door. A woman. You don’t recognize her, but then again you don’t see many women on the base, and you don’t pay much attention to the other soldiers.
Maybe you need to start paying more attention.
She’s a beta, you can tell just by looking at her. She’s wearing scent blockers, keeping her scent from projecting into the barracks to erase the fact she was here.
She says your name, staring at you with hard set eyes. “General Shepherd is waiting for you.”
It takes you a moment to process what it is she’s saying. You’ve never met any of the higher ups on base. The person with the most authority you’ve met is John, but you know he’s only a Captain. There’s others above him, but you weren’t any concern of theirs, so you have never bothered to meet them. Even in your time with the CIA, the person with the most authority that you met seemed to be Kate. You hadn’t even been given names of anyone higher up than her.
Apparently something’s changed.
Something in the back of your mind begins to tingle. Something isn’t right about this. You should have called Dr. Keller, or even Kate. You shouldn’t have opened the door so recklessly.
“But, I’m not supposed to-” You begin, unsure of what to do now.
“It’s a direct order from your superior.” The woman cuts you off, her tone sharp and impatient.
You’re not a soldier. The only superior you have is John and he’s certainly not behind this.
You wouldn’t dare say that out loud. Not right now.
“Okay, okay.” You say, stepping back slightly from the door. “Let me just get some shoes on.”
You close the door, staring down at your phone. You debate calling Dr. Keller or even just sending a text, but you don’t put it past the woman outside to barge in if you don’t hurry. You can feel the panic rising, the thought of someone invading your space so carelessly making the back of your neck tingle. So instead you slip on a pair of shoes, shoes you know you can run in, before you open the door again.
She’s still standing in the hallway, stiffly at attention. Her gaze pierces into you, making your skin crawl. You close your door behind you, slipping your phone into your pocket. She doesn't say anything as she turns on her heel, walking down the hallway towards the door. You follow behind her, having to walk quickly to keep up with her. You’re reminded of your early days on the base when you would be escorted around by Ghost.
You’d take those times back over this right now.
Your palms start to sweat as you leave the barracks, dread starting to fill your stomach as you realize how much of a mistake you’ve made, leaving with this stranger. She could be taking you anywhere to see anyone. You’re not even sure General Shepherd is a real person.
The thought of being led blindly into a room of alphas like a lamb being led into a den of hungry wolves nearly makes you panic, your steps faltering just slightly as you debate running. You could make it to the medical center quickly from here if you sprint the entire way. Would she chase you if you took off running? Would you get in trouble? Would the guys get in trouble if you did?
You don’t want anyone to get in trouble.
Especially not with this being the first time you’ve been on your own. They’ve put a lot of trust in both you and Dr. Keller in their absence. If you get into trouble while they’re gone, that might change things. You could ruin everything you’ve built by misbehaving.
The woman leads you to a building you haven’t been in before, leading you down a clinical-looking hallway to a door. She pauses in front of it, turning to face you. You stare at her, still on edge. What if this is a test? What if they’re testing you to see if you’d just blindly leave with a stranger while they’re not there to protect you.
You’ve made a big mistake.
The woman holds out her hand, and you stare down at it dumbly. “Your phone.”
You continue to stare at her hand for a moment, trying to swallow the nervous panic rising within you. You don’t have much of a choice now but to obey. Your hands are shaking as you pass your phone over, the woman pocketing it before she opens the door.
It’s bright inside, the LED bulbs burning your eyes. You’re uncomfortable and uneasy, a dangerous mix for an omega, but the person inside doesn’t seem to care. He stands from his seat, towering over you. He screams alpha before his scent even hits you. You’re thrown back into the memories of your father, the way he carried himself, the way he stood. Back straight like a rod, hands clasped behind his back, face pressed into a stern line.
He’s in uniform, decorated with more patches and pins than you could put a name to. Army, you think, judging by the color of his jacket. It looks like General Shepherd is a real person after all.
You try not to flinch as the door clicks closed behind you, sealing you in this room with an unknown alpha. Though it’s only one, you still feel like the helpless lamb standing before a hungry wolf.
No one will hear you scream. No one will care.
“My name is General Shepherd.” He says, his voice gruff and laced with authority. “I am the acting commander of Task Force 141.”
You’re not sure if you should say anything, or even bother introducing yourself. He probably already knows you well, even though you’ve never met him before in your life.
“I was one of the driving forces behind the omega initiative, and I decided the 141 should be one of the first to participate. I also signed the approval for you to be assigned as their omega, did you know that?”
You shake your head. “N-No sir, the CIA didn’t give me any names.”
“Good.” His lips twitch in what you assume was supposed to be a smile. It doesn’t ease your nerves any. “They weren’t supposed to. I’m sure you’ve learned that confidentiality is everything in this line of work.”
“Yes, sir.” You try not to flinch under his gaze, piercing and probing. The back of your neck is tingling, every single instinct in your body screaming at you to run, to escape, to get somewhere safe.
“I came here today to ensure your pack was doing as they were instructed. I’m impressed with what I’ve seen so far. You’re getting along well with them?”
You nod again. “Yes, sir. There were some...bumps along the way, but we all get along fine now.”
“Good.” He closes the file on the table, taking a step closer to you. You fight the urge to take a step back, not wanting him to invade your space while you’re so vulnerable. “The success of this program is imperative to the future of the military and its functionality. You’re doing important work here with the Task Force.” His hand lifts, slowly pulling the collar of your shirt to the side so he can see your mating mark.
You fight the urge to lift your hands and wrap them around the back of your neck, the instinctual urge to protect yourself nearly winning out as he stares at your mark. Your heart is pounding in your chest, the fear-driven adrenaline making your fingers tremble. Half a second and he could scruff you, half a second and he could overpower you.
No one would know. No one would care.
“I’m satisfied with what I’m seeing so far. Of course, the true measure of success will be their efficiency in their current task.” He steps back away from you, moving back to the table. “How have you been adjusting to them being gone?”
“It’s been difficult,” You say, breathing for a second to collect yourself. “But I know separation can be a rough adjustment at first.”
His lips twitch again in a twisted smile. “You’re a smart girl. That’s why I chose you for this position. You’re doing good work. Your efforts will change the course of military history, hopefully for the better.”
Something about his words don’t sit right with you.
You’re trembling as you exit the room, led out by the woman that had brought you to the building. Your breaths are heavy as you try to keep a grip on the anxiety threatening to overtake you. Your hand is trembling uncontrollably as she give you your phone back, your knuckles going white as you clutch it to your chest. You’re sweating, the cool air chilling your skin as you step outside.
You barely remember the walk back to the barracks, numbly following the woman as she leads you back to your safe space. It doesn't feel so safe anymore, now that she’s breached it. She entered without permission, breaking that trust that’s so sacred to packs.
She doesn't even seem bothered by it.
She pauses outside the door to the barracks, staring down at you. You fight the urge to race inside and lock yourself in the safety of your room before she can change her mind and enter again, or take you somewhere worse. You stand your ground, meeting her gaze.
“Thank you for your cooperation.” She says, as monotone as she had been the first time she spoke to you.
You finally realize what it was that made her seem so off to you as you think over her words.
She’s American.
“Thank you for escorting me.” You say politely, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Have a safe trip home.”
You quickly enter the barracks, speed walking down the hall towards your room. You want to burrow under your covers and hide until the guys return and you can feel safe again. You pause in front of your door, staring down at the handle. The back of your neck is prickling again, anxiety burning hot in your veins. Your hands have begun shaking again, clinging to the phone still pressed against your chest. You fight the urge to hyperventilate as you stare at your door, half of your brain telling you to run and the other half stuck, staring in shock and disbelief.
Your door is ajar. Open just a crack, just enough to be noticeable by looking at it.
You always close your door. You always ensure it’s shut every time you leave the barracks, even when the guys are home. You remember shutting it before you followed the woman out of the barracks. You remember distinctly listening to the click of the handle as you pulled it shut behind you in the quiet of the barracks.
You stare at the gap, the line of the frame visible. It’s open. Your door is open.
Someone was inside your room.
NEXT ->
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mommypieck's kinktober 2023 .°୭̥ ୨୧
day 1: first time with jean ✯ cherry pop!!!
day 3: anal with armin ✯ dirty slut!!!
day 5: age gap with nanami ✯ my daddy!!!
day 7: face sitting with suguru ✯ juicy!!!
day 9: crying with eren ✯ oh so messy!!!
day 11: mommy kink with satoru ✯ needy boy!!!
day 13: mutual masturbation with yuuji ✯ touch me please!!!
day 15: on cam with bertholdt ✯ watch my cunt!!!
day 17: cow hybrid with geto ✯ fill me up with milk!!!
day 19: cuckholding with connie (ft onyankopon) ✯ best friend's dick!!!
day 20: threesome with gojo and geto ✯ porn star fucking!!!
day 21:toys with yuuta ✯ dick isn't enough!!!
day 23: being loud with erwin ✯ moan my name!!!
day 24: pegging with nanami ✯ daddy turns into my toy!!!
day 25: sensory deprivation with choso ✯ pussy delivery for you!!!
day 26: size kink with inumaki ✯ so mean and rough!!!
day 27: stripping with levi ✯ you pervert!!!
day 29: on a phone with yuuji ✯ *y/n attached 1 photo*!!!
day 30: panties with megumi ✯ sniff sniff!!!
day 31: glory hole with eren & jean ✯ who's pussy is this!!!
#aot x reader#aot smut#attack on titan smut#aot headcanons#attack on titan x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk headcanons#kinktober#kinktober 2023
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E-boys Ruined my Life: Toxic! Megumi Fushiguro x Fem Reader
Chapter 1: Love at First Sight
[series summary]: you had a crush on Megumi for so long, you hoped you would meet him again. But now, as you stand before him, you realize that Fushiguro Megumi is not the same kid as he was at fifteen- he was taller, broader and far more handsome than ever. And a whole lot meaner to you.
[synopsis]: Being friends with the IT GIRLS as a first year has a lot of perks; new friends, a popularity boost and crossing paths constantly with your high school crush after many years apart, Megumi Fushiguro. this is a heavily edited and revised chapter.
[cw]: DARK CONTENT, NSFW, aged up characters, classism - elitism, sexism/misogyny, unhealthy body image, violence, mentions of bullying and suicidal ideation, slut shaming, objectification, parasocial relationships, gaslighting, manipulation, sex between characters, brief mention of teenagers fooling around.
[r-18+] (not suitable for 17 and under)
[wc] 13.5k
[masterlist] [chapter 2] [taglist] [playlist] [main]
THERE’S just something so thrilling about having positive attention.
Each step you take down the campus quad has heads turning your way in awe. Decked in original pink juicy couture tracks, white Nike sneakers with pink highlights and your white hermes bag hanging off your arm, you strutted onwards with your head held up high. Everything about you screamed perfection, from your proper posture to your brand new hair-do, to your freshly microbladed brows, to your light ‘clean girl’ makeup that accented your best features, down to new manipedi you got.
Things you took care of no matter how much pain or discomfort you were in. And it was worth every hot wax pulled off your skin.
All eyes were on you, stopping in their tracks just to admire your beauty. You could hear whistles and compliments being thrown at you from all sides, but you pay no mind to them, instead scanning the surroundings until you spot a familiar blue haired girl sitting at the edge of the quad with the other girls. She notices you as well, breaking into a smile as she waves you over and you make your way to their spot excitedly, plopping yourself on the bench besides your friends.
The IT girls of Wilhelm Baldwin University; that’s what the school dubbed your group, made up of the most popular girls in the school.
“Honestly, you’re one of the only people who I’ve seen wear a tracksuit and still look hot with it.” the blue haired girl, Miwa, spoke, her eyes admiring your outfit. She was the sweetest girl you’ve ever met, coming from humble beginnings and doing everything she could to support her family as the sole breadwinner.
She started creating lifestyle and baking content on her tik tok as a way to pass time when she was bored, only for her to grow big overnight, appearing on shows, tours and other events. Now she settled to go to school, wanting an education and she makes lifestyle content about her chaotic days in university.
Everyone knew her as the nice girl of the group, always willing to let people down gently and helping people who asked. To outsiders Miwa was a saint. To the inner workings of your group, she could be a little misguided and thick headed at times. Despite all that, she’s your closest friend and the first ever person you met on college campus, long before you became popular.
“It’s juicy couture Miwa. Of course it’s gonna look good. Well on someone as hot as (name).” A blonde haired girl who was sitting across added.
Momo Nishimiya, a trust-fund baby whose parents practically own the legal world in the palm of their hands. With her father as a rather influential senator and her mother as the chief justice of the nation, Momo is set for life. You never let her five foot appearance fool you; just like her parents she was vicious, smart and could pull just the right strings to get people to do what she wanted.
Not even her dad was safe. The cherry red sports’ car sitting in the school’s parking lot is a testament of how convincing she could be.
You’re glad she was an ally and not an enemy.
“I’m just shocked that new money is finally wearing something original.” the girl with the short green hair sitting next to Momo says with a sly grin, her mocking tone grinding your gears.
Mai Zenin, the leader of the group and the bane of your fucking existence. Coming from a long line of generational wealth of the Zenin’s, Mai is the President of the biggest sorority in the nation, the Zeta house, a business major at the top of her class and an olympic gold medalist in the shooting range category.
It didn’t help that she was also gorgeous and her pores were effortlessly clear, because by god was she infuriating and you wished there was just something you could say to knock her down a peg.
Cocking her head sideways, Mai’s pink lips curled up into a smirk as she placed her chin on her propped up hand. “It is real Juicy Couture, right?”
“It is real.” You quip back in a sickly sweet voice, returning a strained smile and resisting the urge to just jump her. “I thought old money could recognize real from fake, guess you’re not that good at spotting the difference.”
And then there is the newest addition to the group, you, (name) (last name). From the generous nickname Mai gave you, you’re new money after your mother married your step-father, a highly controversial marriage to the media. Being the youngest and only freshman to ever join the group without being in Mai’s sorority, you’ve garnered attention within just months of entering the university.
You would think you would have done something noteworthy for the entire school to notice you; but no that’s not what happened.
You’re popular because you’re the hottest girl on campus.
No seriously.
There was a stupid ranking of the hottest freshman girl and you won. Not a sorority sister or some girl rushing for a sorority, nor a much more wealthy socialite who had years of money to keep looking hot. You assumed that with the world’s weird beauty standards you would barely be noticed, which was fine, but somehow the university decided they liked you and they liked the way you looked.
You went from being a homebody glued to your screen to being invited out by other girls to gatherings, getting free things on campus and being asked out every 3-7 business days.
And who was Mai to ignore the opportunity of a rising star?
Mai laughed at your clap back, her eyes sparkling with interest as she leaned back on the picnic chair. “Don’t be mad at me, I saved you from a scandal by giving you valid criticism. Imagine if the tabloids caught you wearing fake Vancleef, ‘(Last name) - Nanami caught wearing a dupe, is the mother-daughter duo still stuck with their penny pinching ways?’ Is that the kind of news you’d want following you around, new money?”
You gritted your teeth in frustration, recalling exactly how you got into that mess which heavily involved Mai Zenin. “You were the one who sent me to that store in the first place.”
“I was trying to teach you how to tell what’s a dupe and what’s not. And it’s paying off. You look so much better in original clothes.”
“Why you-”
“Ladies enough! Hearing about dupes makes my head hurt.” Momo cuts in, ending the argument before it could escalate any further. Both you and Mai instantly back down from the heated argument, still glaring down at each other. “And where is that pledge with our drinks? I’m really not in the mood to get through the day without my fix of espresso.”
“You’re just antsy cause you pulled an all-nighter with some project.” Mai teased her blonde friend, suddenly in a good mood again. “I told you to give that shit to some poor nerd who needs the money to do it for you.”
“I’d rather not. Most of them are so mediocre in their academic papers, it makes my skin crawl -”
You tune out the rest of their conversation, not wanting to hear the two girls talk about how poor people are dumb losers and how much better they are compared to people of lower class, picking up your phone and going straight to instagram. Mindlessly, you scrolled through your feed, only liking pictures of hot guys, your friends and food content, really nothing out of the ordinary with your feed.
Sometimes you wonder if this was going to be your college experience.
You had barely just entered school and already you were at the top of the food chain, which was good for you. Being the newest socialite, you knew it would be hard for anyone to respect you.
It was different for someone like Miwa, who made the money by herself. She had more respect from wealthy people, than you who by proxy inherited it by your mother marrying into money.
Your dumb luck has saved you from being known as the gold digger’s daughter and you’re grateful for it.
Anyone would kill to be in your position right now and yet, you feel like you’re wasting away. There are so many restrictions attached to the lifestyle you’re living, so many clubs you can’t join because you let Mai dictate what you can or can’t do.
“The Wilhelm Baldwin University Theatre is inviting you to our play production, Legally Blonde on 26th Nov 2024.”
You hover on the instagram post on your school’s official account, staring at it sadly as you think about your situation. Something twists in your heart at the e-poster, a solemn smile making its way to your face. A distant past where you would have jumped at the opportunity to be involved in the arts flashes back into your mind.
‘Perhaps there is truly a price for fame and popularity…’
“Hey, isn’t that the play by the University’s theatre club?”
You’re quickly snapped out of your thoughts by Miwa, but soon your shock turns to annoyance when you realise she was looking into your phone while you were distracted. Before you could reprimand her, Mai and Momo quickly shifted their attention to what she had said, clearly interested in the newest information, their faces twisted into ugly smirks.
“Those Juillard wannabees are hosting a play? That’s rich. What are they gonna do? Another shitty rendition of Romeo and Juliet?”
You internally cringe at Mai’s scornful tone but you couldn’t deny her words. Your school’s theatre program is rather underfunded, putting more money in your cheer team, football squad and fraternities. Only people either on scholarships or who are currently knee-deep in college debt make up the majority of the program's occupants.
Another difference between class divisions in this school.
Before you could say anything to change the topic, Momo snatches your phone from your hand and takes a good look at the poster. “They’re doing Legally Blonde?? These bottom feeders are literally cosplaying a socialite. Be for real”
The two girls burst into laughter, nearly knocking over your expensive iphone as if it’s the funniest thing on earth. Miwa bites her lip, a look of guilt crossing over her face the moment she sees your fists clenched underneath the table in annoyance. You’re quick to take slow deep breaths, counting from one - ten as the two older girls continued to berate the play between scornful laughter.
“Wait wait, let's check the casting…” Mai says between gasps, scrolling to see the people playing the characters. A feeling of dread washes down your body when you see her sneer at the first picture. “Hana Kurusu is the person they picked to be THE Elle Woods? THEY picked a girl who wears shoes from goodwill to play Elle woods? Who casted this?”
‘I’m pretty sure they don’t base their criteria for casting based on where you get shoes from’
“She’s not even close to being hot.” Momo adds, her tone tinged with pure disgust. “I can’t believe they picked her.”
“Maybe she’s a good actress.” Miwa says in a dead tone, trying to salvage the situation. The older girls look at Miwa as if she’s grown two heads, before sighing and shaking their heads like she’s an impetuous child. “Look, Miwa-chan, I know you’re a sweetheart but you know none of those theatre kids have any talent. They take in anyone, ANYONE. New money can agree with me on this one.”
All eyes turned to you, expectant of your answer. Anxiousness creeps onto your skin as the spotlight is put on you, all your anger dissipating as Mai’s gaze burns deep into your soul, waiting for you to agree with her. As much as you’re usually going toe to toe with Mai, you know your spot with the IT girls was still tentative. This is one of the arguments that could make or break you; while she loves being challenged, Mai will never forgive you if you show sympathy for any person she considers beneath her status.
On one hand, you could risk Mai genuinely hating you and making her your enemy by telling her the truth, that Hana truly has more talent than Mai ever will.
On the other hand…
You plucked your phone from Momo’s hand, taking a good look at the picture before throwing your phone aside dramatically, gagging in disgust. “Ewwww, that’s the girl that wears that ugly sweater from Costco three times a week. I hope her acting isn't as ugly as her fashion sense.”
Your comment breaks the tension, making the three girls - yes even Miwa - bark with laughter, nearly losing their minds at your reaction, sealing the deal. You settle into a small smile as the pledge brings your drinks to the table, placing your frappuccino in front of you. You carefully sip your drink, washing down the bitter taste of guilt with its sweetness.
‘Keep your friends close and wealthy friends with connections closer.’
ZENIN Megumi hated Trending Tuesdays on the T with a burning passion.
He hated a lot of things, to be fair, but this was at the top of the list of things he hated. It was like a dick measuring contest that some of his classmates did in high school, only on a much larger scale involving a bunch of grown adults who should be doing something better than watching the latest trend on a thinly veiled gossip blog masquerading as the school’s website.
The fraternity usually got louder during Trending Tuesdays, hollering about the newest girl they considered hot and who was not or what guy did the craziest thing. Usually on these kinds of days, Megumi would go up to his private room and smoke whilst blasting music or playing League of Legends, but now as the president of his fraternity, he has responsibilities. He has to be present, even if it killed him on the inside, at least to encourage this stupid bonding activity or whatever his vice-president, Yuuji Itadori told him.
“Aren’t you going to show the slightest interest in Trending Tuesdays?”
Speak of the devil.
Megumi turns his attention from the book he’s reading, “The Godfather” to Yuuji Itadori. The pink haired man had always been there for him since Megumi moved schools; even as he fell into deeper darkness as he spent more time with the Zenins, he and that crazy bitch Nobara stood beside him. Yuuji was the more fun one, much more cut out to be the president of the Fraternity in Megumi’s opinion, even though he’d say otherwise. He has been so invested in Trending Tuesdays as a tradition and perhaps that’s why he wants Megumi to be more involved this year.
“You want me to huddle over a phone with other guys to see what girl half of the fraternity will jerk off to tonight?” Megumi crosses his arms. He knows he’ll cave eventually because it’s Yuuji, but he’s not going to make it easy for him either. “Isn’t my presence while this madness is going on in the common room enough?”
“Come onnnn! Toge’s gonna put it on the TV anyways so you won’t have to rub shoulders with people” Yuuji groans childishly, making the dark haired man roll his eyes in response. Sometimes his friend can be so irritating whenever he wants him to do something, especially if it involves socialising with people. “We just have one more year before we graduate, aren’t you in the slightest curious about it?”
“No.”
“But it’s like a team bonding exercise! Besides, you might see a girl you’ll actually like in this school.”
Megumi almost wants to laugh at Yuuji’s statement. It’s just as ridiculous as the elders in the Zenin family who keep insisting for him to at least have a main girl so that the future of their bloodline is secure. Only that Yuuji thinks that Megumi is only sleeping with different girls cause he hasn’t found the right one yet.
At least the Zenin’s are not naïve to his real intentions.
“As long as it's not school sanctioned, I don’t care.”
His blunt tone deflates Yuuji’s cheerful mood once more and for a brief moment Megumi thinks he’s worn Yuuji down, returning to read his book in peace.
“PleasePleasePleasePleasePlease-”
Sick of Yuuji’s incessant nagging, the dark haired man barked out “I’m coming, I’m coming!” throwing the novel aside and storming off, Yuuji following behind with a shit eating grin.
THE second he enters the common room, the once chattering room goes silent.
Megumi isn’t new to his frat brothers fearing him. He is not a particularly friendly face with his usual grumpy expression and towering height, and he has the personality to match, quiet with a stern personality. It could be his policies that make them instantly shape up whenever he is around, scared that he’d lash out at them at any moment or expel them for the slightest mistake.
It’s not like their fears are unfounded though. But he only punishes annoyances and as long as they stay out of his way and his room, they’re safe.
They clear the way for him and Yuuji, letting them walk to the largest chair in the common room, greetings of “Good day President” “Good day vice-president” echoing throughout the room. Yuuji is the only one that responds, telling them to loosen up. “We’re just here for trending Tuesdays. No one’s gonna get in trouble today for being rowdy, right, Zenin?”
“We’ll see.”
A white haired male was already perched on their usual seat, brows pinched in concentration as he connected his phone's bluetooth to the television. The man raised his head, his sour expression quickly turning to shock when he saw Megumi standing in front of him. He looked from Megumi to Yuuji, discarding his phone to put a hand in front of his face, bending his fingers in and out, his lips mimicking Megumi’s usual grouchy frown.
“How the hell did you get Mr. Grumpy out of his room for Trending Tuesday? You didn’t offer him a free fuck like one of his whores, right?”
Megumi felt his eye twitch as Yuuji snorted at the comment. before rapidly signing back. “Fuck you, Toge.”
Toge rolled his eyes at Megumi in response, before moving aside so that he and Yuuji could sit and the common room goes back to their chattering as before when they realise Megumi wasn’t doing any official duties today.
Toge Inumaki was a senior majoring in robotics engineering, their fraternities treasurer, as well as a grade one menace to society.
People make the mistake of assuming he’s a quiet guy because he doesn’t say anything and think he’s this sort of mysterious and cool person who keeps to himself, not knowing that he’s mute, deaf in his right ear and partially deaf in his left, always donning his hearing aids. Toge doesn’t bother clearing up the rumours, rather taking glee in watching people try to get close to him to get him to ‘open up’, only to be horrified when they realise his disability and feel immense guilt right after.
Yuuji had tried talking him out of it, but he defended his actions with, “That’s what they get for treating me like a social experiment. They wanna be friends with the quiet rich kid to get favours.”
Megumi doesn’t blame him. Ever since meeting Toge, when he moved high schools, he knew that people either treat him as the introverted project they want to take on or the poor disabled kid who no one understands, but never a human being.
Sometimes, people would straight up not believe him that he can’t hear them without his aid because he’s “too cute to be disabled”.
Even his parents are weird around him, never once attempting to learn sign language themselves since it would be too ‘tasking’.
It hasn’t damped Toge’s sense of humour regardless. Anyone who knows Toge and knows sign language knows that the white haired man is a talkative with a filthy mouth. He’s a prankster and pledges are advised to avoid him, seeing as they’re the most susceptible to his rather cruel jokes.
Girls seem to like him though, if the irritating screams of pleasure that keeps everyone else up at night every time he has a study partner were anything to go by.
Toge goes straight to the school’s website, the T and the website comes up, a large TRENDING TUESDAY typed in cursive letters was at the top of the blog post. Realising that he was out of his element, Megumi turns to Yuuji to ask “So how does this work again?”
“Well, trending Tuesdays are all about who is or are the most influential students in school today. Whether it’s pranks, or the cutest couple or even someone that did something impressive today, it all depends on who had the most impact. They write a short blurb and say something about the person.” Yuuji doesn’t turn his attention away from the screen as he continues. “You’ve always been in the top three since you entered this school.”
“Is that so?”
Megumi shrugs nonchalantly, a small smile on his lips. Sure, he hates the T and thinks it’s a pointless program but being at the top without even trying feeds his large ego a little bit.
Toge scrolls up the page, ignoring the people at the hundredth place because they’re obviously irrelevant and gets to the top twenty. A picture of a girl with white hair in short bob wearing a white sweater and black pants in one picture, and a blonde wig in another wearing a hot pink suit in another comes up.
‘Hana Kurusu, the head of the theatre club is the first to spearhead a high end production of legally blonde. While we’re really happy for her, let’s not get our hopes up, this play is going to be garbage fire-’
Megumi quickly tunes out the rest of the post and the rest of the frat talking about how the musical will be dog shit, not really interested in anything about Hana. Sure, she’s a decent fuck and she does whatever he wants, including keeping her mouth shut about their arrangement but that didn’t mean he cared about her.
“Damn, they really ripped the theatre kids a new one. I don’t think they deserve that” Yuuji murmurs.
“The T didn’t lie, I tried giving theatre a chance for a hot girl who was super into it. I ended up taking off my hearing aids mid-performance because I didn’t pay to hear such shit acting”
“Toge!”
“It was a shame, she had really nice tits but she can’t sing or act for shit. Instant turn off. Why do something you’re shit at?”
Megumi nods in agreement, replying to Toge’s argument. “Only broke kids join theatre to be part of something. The fee is low and they think they’ll make it in Hollywood since they schooled here.”
The rest of the top 15 were uneventful, apart from Yuuji at number 6 who practically broke a school record in track and field, set up by the fastest runner in ‘08, Zenin Naoya - Megumi’s shitty cousin amongst the sea of shit family members he has.
As usual, Yuuji shrugs it off despite everyone screaming in shock and congratulating him, saying it's not a big deal. Maybe it’s because he’s a beast at almost every sport he touches that he’s so humble with his achievement. All his years of knowing Yuuji from high school, he has always remained humble and friendly, never letting his success get to his head.
He’s sure if Naoya ever finds out, he’d be pissed.
Good.
Finally they make it to the top five, the most anticipated people that everyone is always curious about. Usually, the top five is not just about achievements, it’s about looks, it’s about charisma, it about how much people thirst over them.
They encapsulate the true shallowness of the student body.
‘At number five, it’s Momo Nishimiya. Winning the debate nationals and making it as the head of the national model UN, there are big things awaiting the beauty with brains from the IT girls group. I’m sure I see another cherry red sports car in ms. Nishimiya’s future or another trip to the Bahamas as a celebration! Make sure to post those Bikini pics babe’
“Preferably the latter.” Some of the frat boys murmured, their voices dripping with lust that it’s nearly pathetic. “I’ve got to see her in a bikini again or I’ll kill myself.”
‘I hope you do, you’re actually annoying.’
Megumi doesn’t stop them from being nasty little perverts though. In his opinion, it's just the way boys talk, especially when they’re with their fellow guys.
It’s not like they mean any harm by being horny.
‘At number four, making it to the cover of Independent and a guest appearance on the Tonight Show, Mai Zenin. Well, are we really surprised to see ms. hot stuff, perfect ass at the top?
Running the school with an Iron fist, Mai, the leader of the IT girls has always maintained her relevance from the second she won an olympic gold medal in shooting range. A mixture of grace and smarts, there is always a spot for her in the top five.’
Megumi sighs the second he sees Mai’s magazine cover; wearing a rather sexualized version of a chesogam, she leans on a chair with her legs crossed, the long slit giving view of her long legs. Her smile is sultry, never reaching her eyes.
He has never seen her ever smile genuinely before in all the time he spent in the Zenin household. Not that he blames her, the way they treated women in that place was nothing to smile about.
The frat boys all but bark at her pictures, each hungry for something, shouting profainities about how much they want to fuck her. Itadori opens his mouth to say something, but Megumi clamps a hand over his shoulders and tells him to settle down. “Don’t worry, let them have their fun. It’s nothing serious.”
Normally Megumi would stop them, but he thinks they’re cute. They’re so cute thinking they even have a chance with Mai of all people. If there was something Megumi liked about Mai, it was that she had standards.
If she was going to be treated like shit, might as well be treated like shit wearing Louis Vuitton and Hermes.
He turns his attention to the next one on the list and his smile instantly drops the second he sees Maki at number 3. The T has a weird habit of pitting Maki and Mai against each other, and while Maki wouldn’t care about this shit, Mai does.
The Zenin’s had imprinted it that women must be in constant competition for affection because how much they are loved is how much they are valued. Maki thinks everything the Zenin says is bullshit, including that whole line about affection. Mai, however, is a different story. She has internalised that information so much that she spends so much time caring about her reputation to her detriment.
‘At the proud number three is our nationi8nal MMA champion, Maki Zenin! This week she defeated the previously undefeated title holder, Sena. I’m not usually into muscular women but goddamn does she look hot while beating in someone’s face with her fists. Step on me mommy-’
Uncomfortable with reading the rest of that sentence, Megumi quickly signs desperately with Yuuji laughing at him in the background. “Scroll up, scroll up.”
Luckily for him, Toge also seemed uncomfortable because the last thing he wants to see is someone thirsting over his best friend and scrolling away, landing on the number two name on the list.
‘And coming up to the number two is Zenin Megumi, the school’s resident mysterious hottie who happens to be recruiting new pledges for the Alpha Beta frat house.
How he divides his time between posing for the house of Gojo’s fashion line, shirtless and at the same time stays on top of his business class is some what a mystery, not that I’m complaining though cause FUCK HE’S HOT…’
Megumi groans in his hands as a picture of him posing shirtless with flared jeans, whilst manspreading comes on screen for the entire frat house to see.
The entire house grows quiet, before whispers of “is it okay to have a crush on our president- in a manly kind of way?” And “he looks so majestic, that’s our president! I need his gym routine-” start floating in the air, only making Megumi grow more annoyed, almost as if he’s not in the room with them.
Yuuji places a hand on his shoulder with a teasing smile, clearly enjoying watching Megumi suffer. “Don’t be shy. You should be proud of your-”
“Shut the fuck up and tell Toge to get that shit off the screen before I hear another person ask if it’s okay they get off to pictures of me.”
Amused, Yuuji turns to Toge, signing Megumi’s message to which he lets out a weird snort like laughter, before scrolling up to the moment everyone has been waiting for: The number one spot. He can hear some people drawing in a deep breath, waiting for the next person until the blurb flashes on the screen.
“At the number one spot; the stunning beauty of University that has gripped our hearts and our nether regions. Voted the sexiest girl on campus the second we saw her in the freshman group taking a tour, (Name) (Last name)-Nanami!
Dressed in a cute Juicy Couture that makes her ass look juusst right, (name) has taken the entire school and the socialite scene by storm.
By the way, happy belated eighteenth birthday princess. Now that you are legal, I can proudly say I and the majority of the guys in this school have jerked off to your birthday bikini pics with zero guilt. And also, thanks to you the juicy couture section in the mall not too far away and the goodwill a few blocks over is sold out. You’re an icon babe, keep being you.’
“FUCK YES IT’S HER AGAIN!”
“Please, please, please marry me (name), I’ll dump my girlfriend for you! Fuck I’ll set a car on fire for you-”
“I hope her nudes leak or something, that’s the only way I’ll see her naked because she’s way too good for me.”
Megumi doesn’t think too much of it, ignoring all the crazy things his fraternity brothers are saying. But someone else has an opposite opinion.
“Oh God, not her again.”
Megumi raises a brow, curious at Yuuji’s reaction. It was strange for the friendly man to sound so annoyed over someone, especially somebody so new to this school and seemingly beloved by the student body. Usually, he’s the one to have qualms about the person and Yuuji would have to talk him into being less suspicious about the person.
His friend had no malicious bone in his body. Or maybe there’s a side to Yuuji even he doesn’t know about.
“You don’t sound too happy.”
“No… that’s not what… you don’t know who she is, do you?” His pink haired friend only groans in response, increasingly getting more agitated for some reason. Megumi shakes his head negatively in response and Yuuji sighs. “Remember when my dad got married like last year? That’s my step-mom’s daughter … my step-sister.”
“Oh”
Back in December it was trending news that the owner of the best winery in the world, Nanami Kento was getting married to a deaf, single mother. The Zenin’s were pissed because Nanami chose ‘damaged goods’ over the barely legal teen they arranged so that they could partner with him. But since Megumi wasn’t interested in such a topic and he was just happy the elders were miserable that winter, he didn’t bother to look into it.
No wonder Yuuji looked more irritated with every passing moment. The pink haired boy always seemed to be concerned about his family members whenever the tabloids said something nasty about them and was fiercely protective of them. It could be why Yuuji doesn’t bring her around the fraternity house or barely mentions her, so that people won’t try to use him to get to her.
“She’s just eighteen Megs.” Yuuji’s grave tone rouses Megumi from his thoughts. Poor guy, it’s really bothering him, what’s going on with his sister. “It’s not been up to three months since she got here and the comments the T has made about her body are disgusting. She pretends like it doesn’t bother her but I’m sure that she hates it deep down.”
He can relate to Yuuji right now; back in high school he would overhear guys talking about how much they want to screw his sister.
Unlike Yuuji though, he wasn’t as patient.
“Don’t think too much about the T’s comments” Megumi reaches a comforting hand to Yuuji. Even though he’s sure the girl doesn’t give a damn about his friend, he has to ease the pink haired man’s nerves somehow. “Maybe she truly doesn’t think it’s too much of a big deal. She could be like that, you never know. Plus you know how the T is. They’re obsessed with the next hot thing and then they fall out of love with it.”
Besides, Megumi figures you’re just a shiny new thing that’s trending now. And the thing about trends is that when there’s nothing interesting or fantastic about them, they die out. ‘Yuuji has nothing to worry about’ he muses to himself. ‘You’re probably not that pretty to last long-’
The second Toge puts your picture on the screen, Megumi finds himself eating his words.
The admiration of your image by the other frat members becomes nothing but background noise as he stares at the t.v utterly transfixed. Your features were distinct in a way that could only be described as ethereal, breathtaking, exotic. You’re wearing cute juicy couture sweats, something he thinks looked utterly tacky and overdone by all the blond girls in this school and yet you make it look expensive, like you’re the only one he wants to see it on. Your lips are pulled into a pretty smile that lights up your eyes, only highlighting your best features like your cheeks and your nose.
He’s not one for looks, but by god you were one of the most gorgeous girls he’s ever set his eyes on.
“No wonder you keep hiding her from us.” Toge signs, also nearly astonished by how beautiful you look. “Your sister is fucking hot man.”
“Not you too, Toge, she’s barely eighteen, leave her alone-”
Megumi ignores the argument going on behind him, opting to keep looking at your picture. As much as he’s captivated by your beauty, there’s this nagging feeling at the back of his mind that there’s something familiar about you. He can’t shake off the coincidence that you have the same first and last name as someone he used to know and you look like the prettier version of that person.
‘It can’t be her.’ He denies it in his head. The girl that he knew all those years ago would never have been able to afford this university’s tuition without incurring a huge debt. She’d care too much about hurting her single mom’s finances. He keeps staring at the picture and notices you’re holding up your boba drink in one hand, revealing the bracelets on your wrist, which he didn’t pay attention to at first, until something purple and pink catches his eye.
‘That looks really cheap for her to be wearing- wait.’
He squints his eyes a little bit and sees the four letters written on the bracelet “GUMI” boldy.
His mouth groes dry instantly.
‘No fucking way.’
There was a distant past where he was much more free to do whatever he wanted and he didn’t have to worry about the responsibility of taking over the Zenin’s chain of businesses. There were many faceless people in that high school. There were people he brutally beat senseless and there were people who either feared or admired him from afar.
But you were the most memorable because you were a clingy little bitch.
While others avoided him like a plague, you were always beside him, offering to be his “friend” and following him around like fucking insect. You were a pimple-faced, annoying little tramp that he could barely stand.
He could have avoided your affection if he didn’t beat up your bullies that day. He should have never pitied you when he saw you crying in the boys bathroom. It would have saved him the headache of being stuck with you for almost two years in high school.
The only reason he tolerated you for as long as he did was because of Tsumiki. In hindsight, he blames his deceased sister for encouraging your borderline obsession with him because she thought it was cute. He wonders if romantically and mentally you’ve changed. If you’ve grown out of your childish crush on him and forgotten all about your “Gumi” and “Fushiguro-kun”, the things you used to call him with your shrill voice.
When he left that dreaded Academy, he made sure that no one called him “Gumi” ever. He resented that nickname, because it reminded him of you.
You looked happy, fitting right into a society that once rejected you with your pretty hair and manicured nails. Long gone was the wimp that hid behind him, that had to rely on food stamps on your worst days; now you’re a spoiled little brat, having the time of your life without inheriting the responsibility of being a wealthy socialite like he did.
It just made Megumi hate you even more. While he’s stuck with the Zenin clan and paying the price of wealth, you don’t have to do anything. You’re happy. How the hell is any of that fair to him?
Why do you get to be happy?
“You’re staring a bit too hard at the picture, Zenin. Don’t tell me you wanna fuck her too?”
He considers telling the pink haired man that he knew you and all about your pathetic crush on him for a brief moment, but quickly discarded that plan. Like Tsumiki, Yuuji would get the wrong idea and try to get them together.
Instead he rolled his eyes and said in the most bland voice he could muster.
“Not my type.”
Yuuji looks at the tips of Megumi’s ears, noticing them turn red before looking at the boy again with narrowed eyes.
“Sure.”
YOU hated dinners with your ‘family’.
Your step-dad, Nanami Kento was not much of a conversationalist and he ate in silence, except to ask to pass the water jug. Your mother was a try-hard, always asking how school is like for both you and Yuuji, like you’re teenagers attending high school and not university students. Yuuji was also a try hard, answering your mother’s questions like his life depended on it.
And you? You don’t want to be here.
You love your mother and would do anything for her. She sacrificed so much for you so that you’d have an education, working so many jobs and encouraging you. Sure, she was a bit harsh on you when it came to your academics and you used to hate it, but you understood back then that she was giving you a chance she never had. With your father a deadbeat and your family members a bunch of self-righteous losers, it was you and her against the world.
But trying to play house with a step-father you barely knew and a brother who would never speak to you on school grounds was tethering on the edge of your patience that you feel lucky that you only have to do this once a week.
Couple that with the stressful day you had in university from dealing with Mai, to the disgusting and perverted comment section on your trending tuesdays posts -that Mai told you to “get used to it” when you said you hated them and wanted it to stop, to nearly being late in submitting an assignment only to be told “looks can only get you so far” as if you’re not trying your hardest in school, you’re just about done with everything.
All you want to do is eat and sleep in your own bed.
The only good thing about your dinner is the unripe plantain, your favourite meal and you’re shocked the chefs made it after debating with your mother about making ethnic foods for her. Maybe your step-father had some choice words with them.
“So how’s school been for you baby girl?”
You internally groan at your mother’s question as your step-father and Yuuji turn their attention towards you. “It’s okay.” you sign back, before continuing with your food, hoping that your mother would get the message that you don’t want to talk about it.
As your luck could have it, your mother did not like the reply. “What do you mean, Okay?” she signs, her brows pinched together in irritation. “That’s not an answer (name).”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Oh come on baby (name), you’re in college, you should be having fun. I heard from some sources you’re very popular in your school which means you’ve got to have friends right? Why don’t you invite them over? Hell, you should have also met someone cute too that piques your interest or are you still pining over Gumi-”
There’s a tense atmosphere that cuts across the once awkward sphere of the table. Your step father stopped eating the second he saw the enraged look on your face, and his hands facing your mother trying to tell her to “stop-” only for her to aggressively shake her head in dismal, her next words pushing you over the edge. “No, Kento! She’s our child and I have to ask her what she’s been up to-”
“You really want to know what I’ve been up to, mom?” You start to sign, your hands trembling in anger. “You want to know how I’m doing in my business course where no one takes me seriously because I’m too pretty to be smart? Or you want to know how many ‘cute guys’ have threatened to assault me sexually or said something perverted about my body on a school post and how the school refused to take it down when I reported it? Or how I feel so out of place when you seem so well-adjusted with your husband and son, and your only solution is to throw a new black card at me and hope I’m obedient? You really want to know?”
The entire dining table grows silent at your outburst by the time you’re done, heavily breathing as tears threaten to prickle your eyes. Your mother’s features soften, clearly affected by your words and for a second you feel guilty for getting angry at her. Instead, you said out loud whilst tossing your cutlery aside “I’m going to my room. Don’t bother me.” and disappeared up the stairs despite your step father calling out your name until you made it to your room.
Flopping onto your canopy bed the second you enter your room, you’re quick to bury your head in your pillow and let out a guttural scream that you’ve been holding all day. At this point, you don’t care that you’re being rude, your life took a drastic turn the second you turned seventeen and you’ve just been pretending to be okay with it. After years of it just being you and her, these two men barged into your life. You had to up and move from the friends you had finally managed to make, from all your plans to attend a community college for music to an expensive overpriced university in a business course that you hate and from your home that had all your memories into a large mansion that makes you feel insignificant.
You were quickly shuffled into a lifestyle that made you stand out because you weren’t born into money. You had to mingle with people who reminded you of your bullies in high school and laugh with them like you’re not a step from having a mental breakdown, because you need to be significant, you need to network and fit in. You had to pretend you were fine because if you act out the media will drag your mother’s name in the mud.
And you’re all alone dealing with your feelings. Who were you going to tell how inauthentic you felt? How so out of place you felt despite your popularity and you just want to escape it all?
Mai would just tease you for being overdramatic. Momo would tell you that it is what it is as a female socialite and you should swallow it. Maybe Miwa might be sympathetic to your cause but then you remembered she’s supposed to be editing her posts for tiktok tomorrow, so there is no time for you.
There was only one person who would have truly understood and you haven’t seen him in five years.
Feeling nostalgic, you lean over your bed and retrieve a box from underneath. Carefully punching in the code, it opens with a quiet click revealing an old cream sweater kept in good condition, your high school’s logo stitched at the top, three pictures you got at a fair and your old iphone 4 that seems to still work, that all seem so reminiscent of a time so far away yet so close.
Long before you were the IT girl, before you were new money, the girl everyone wants and wants to be.
It was a time when things were so dark that you couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel because you were relentlessly bullied for not being fortunate enough to have money in a school where the rich eat the vulnerable. You had considered ending it all, to stop your mom from constantly coming to school to complain only to return feeling more powerless than ever.
And then he came into your life.
You take the sweater in your arms, gently pressing your nose against the fabric to inhale his scent, preserving it all these years just for comfort. It takes you back to when you were 13, huddled up in a bathroom stall while cradling your broken fingers. You hated life so much back then and you really wanted to die to the point you were googling how many acetamin pills it would take to kill you with your uninjured hand, the bottle containing them just a few feet away from your shaking body. You couldn’t play the harp that you loved because of them, you couldn’t take the emotional abuse and you couldn’t return home to break your mother’s heart by being a pathetic child.
You were planning to die in a boys bathroom stall, ready to swallow the pill when the door flew open. You instantly cowered in fear, spilling the entire bottle on the floor, your heart dropping to your stomach the second you set eyes on the school’s resident bully.
Fushiguro Megumi.
Back then you assumed he was going to laugh at you and then tell everyone what you tried to do. As much as you admired him from afar, you didn’t trust him. You couldn’t trust him. Maybe he was going to kick you aside and take a piss like one other guy had done when you were still barely conscious from earlier.
You didn’t expect him to notice your broken fingers. Or even ask you who did the bullying. And when he did, you had begged him not to get the teacher involved, to which he said. “Who said I’m telling anyone?” before disappearing. You were scared, wondering if he’d call them back to finish the job.
Instead, he dragged the bullies -male and female back to the bathroom for you to watch him beat them up and broke the arm of the guy who crushed your fingers. After he was done, he had taken your unbroken hand in his larger ones to help you up, warmth spreading into your shaking fingers as he steadied you, telling you to step on them.
“W-why?”
“Revenge. Catharsis. Fun.” he had said, his tone rueful. You looked at him with pure fear as he guided you to one the bullies, the girl who started it all. “B-but what if I get in trouble? Or they come for me and hurt me again-”
“Don’t be a square. I’m giving you a chance for payback, so be a good girl and take it.”
“B-but-”
“Do it. I’ll take the blame.”
And true to his word, he did take the blame for both your actions and was suspended for a day. When he came back, you clung onto him like glue, fearful you’d get hurt by those same bullies, but eventually giving way into your heart as you fell head over heels for him. The way he smiled when you said the dumbest stuff. The way his voice sounded, especially when he called your name. The way his hand swallows yours because of how big they were, his comforting scent, everything about Megumi was calming, comforting.
Even your first kiss with him was gentle, sparks flying as he cupped your face in his larger hands.
He could be a bit harsh on you and sometimes, he could say some mean things, he always made it up with some sweet gesture like buying your favourite strawberry drink or spending time with you while you practised the harp.
You loved him so much. You still love him so much. You can’t look at any man the way you looked at him, and you’ve tried. Mai has tried shoving you into a relationship with many guys to try and spice up your reputation but you couldn’t let them even hold your hand, let alone kiss them.
They’re not him. They’ll never be him.
Megumi was not the light at the end of your tunnel, but he took your broken hands in his and let you dance through the thick of the dark times of your life when no one else thought you deserved happiness.
You shed off your juicy couture jacket and shrug on his large sweater, collapsing into your bed with your arms wrapped around yourself. Any time you were upset with anything, you would call him and he’d either listen to you through your sobs or come over to your little house and sneak in with your favourite snacks to watch a movie with you and hold you tight whenever you said you wanted a hug. You wish he hadn’t disappeared when he moved away, that he had at least left you with a number for you to call or text or anything instead of upping and leaving cold turkey.
Tears rolled down your face as you tried to picture him comforting you, over everything that had happened. “Want me to fuck them up?” He’d ask in between murmurs and when you’d shake your head no, he’d click his tongue. He always loved solving problems with violence. “I should, for the way they’re talking to you. You shouldn’t let people take advantage of you.”
‘I miss you Megumi. I miss you so much-’
A knock on your door interrupts your thoughts and you’re quick to wipe away your tears with the back of your hand. Not wanting any pity from whoever was at the door -most likely your mother- you put on your best resting bitch face before storming towards it before yanking it open.
Your frown only deepens when you see your step-father at the door. “Did she put you up to this?” Your voice was cold and from how his brows creased in response, you could see he was hurt.
He shakes his head negatively in response, about to say something when you cut him off again. “The dad thing is not going to work, just leave me be.”
You close the door in his face, albeit rudely and flopped on your bed, curling yourself up into a tight ball and sobbing quietly until you fall asleep.
YOUR step-father’s solution to you being upset is to throw money at your face and tell you to ‘do something nice for yourself’.
Mid-class you had received a cash-app alert attached with a message for you to ‘cheer up with this and tell Yuuji to take you shopping.’ and while it annoyed you to no end that he assumed money made you happy, he wasn’t exactly wrong.
You also suspect that he wants you to open up to Yuuji about your problems, as you both are closer in age; which is a dumb plan in hindsight because you know you’re not going to say shit to someone you barely interact with. Step-brother or not.
The second class dismissed you were out of the door, your Hermes bag slung over your arm. Perhaps your step-dad was right about retail therapy, you needed something to blow off steam with after the depressing night you had; being forced to relive your entire day and then cry yourself to sleep thinking about how much you miss Megumi so much.
What you need is to turn off your brain and buy new things that would make you happy, like new trinkets to add to your room.
Feeling giddy, you pick up your phone and go to the IT girls group chat, ready to invite them to your shopping spree since you didn’t want to go on your shopping spree all alone.
“I should text the girls to see if they’ll hang out with me-”
You paused, stopping yourself in your tracks. You’re trying to have fun, not be silently judged and have pictures taken of your spree and uploaded on the internet for weirdos to oogle.
“I need time alone, but not alone alone” you say to yourself. “Yuuji’s the better option, at least he’ll keep to himself if he sees I’m not in the mood to talk.”
With that decision finalised, you found Yuuji’s contact - Yuuji 🏀- and quickly shot him a text that you needed a ride to the mall right now, if he’s free.
“With that done, I’ll get myself strawberry yoghurt to go-”
Your phone dings just as you’re about to tuck it in your bag and you see it’s Yuuji who had replied faster than you anticipated.
Yuuji 🏀 - I’ll be free in an hr, my class will soon be over
Yuuji 🏀- wait in my room at the frat house, I’ll pick you up there.
You frowned. Why the hell will you wait at a fraternity house? For all you know, they’re nothing but nasty, filthy little perverts. Frat bros have a bad reputation, being gross pieces of shit who have no personal boundaries and get away with anything. Mai always told you that they’re a slippery slope and the chances of you meeting a decent one is as good as pigs flying.
You🧋- Heck no. What if something happens to me there?
Yuuji 🏀 - Look, I need to pick you up and drop you off by 3pm before my next class starts and I don’t wanna waste any time
Yuuji 🏀 - besides my friends are there and they know you’re coming. No one will hurt you.
You 🧋- Fine. I’ll be there waiting. Not a minute late or I’ll rip your jlaw posters apart
Abandoning your plan of getting strawberry yoghurt with a secret promise you’d get it later at the mall, you decided to make your way to the Alpha Beta Frat house, much to your chagrin.
AFTER hitching a ride with the school’s shuttle system within five minutes, you find yourself standing in front of the famed Alpha-Beta house.
The four story building was imposing to say the least, but there wasn’t a challenge you’ve ever backed down from. You casually strolled through the path leading to the front door, grabbing the brass handle and slamming it as hard as possible on the door twice.
‘They ought to hear me that way.’
Sure enough, someone shuffled with the door a few seconds later and opened it, complaints on their lips as the gap widened.
“Who the fuck is knocking on the door like tha- oh-oh h-hey-”
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his sudden change of behaviour. You could recognize him from one of your electives, psychology 101 with professor Getou. He usually makes a fool of himself there as he is doing right now, practically drooling all over himself on the front porch like a mangy mutt.
As much as you’d like to watch him pant like a dog and laugh at him later, you couldn’t stand staying outside any longer.
“Where’s Yuuji Itadori’s room?” You ask curtly.
“Uh… the l-last floor, the door on the far end of the left… o-or was it r-right...”
‘Fucking moron’ you curse internally, before putting on a fake, thankful smile on your face and pushed past the awestruck man to get into the house. “Don’t worry, I’ll figure it out, myself.”
The house was neat, surprisingly, compared to the horrific stories you used to hear from Mai about how filthy fraternity houses are, especially the Alpha beta house under Todo’s rule. As you gingerly walk up the stairs, you notice how not a speck of dust nor a single graffitti lies on the wall, like everything had been polished and cleaned constantly.
Yuuji had made an off comment about the new president being a clean freak and would beat anyone up for leaving as much as wrapping paper on the floor without picking it up. “It runs in the Zenin’s I guess.” He had signed on a particular dinner night. “The last Zenin leader had done the exact same thing.”
As much as you hate the Zenin men and have never heard anything good about them, you have to be grateful that this one was dedicated to keeping the damn house clean. Even the frat bros look well dressed in their polo and shorts, and didn’t reek like beer or weed - although you caught some of them looking at you like a piece of meat.
‘At least they don’t try to talk to me. Must be out of respect for Yuuji.’
Eventually you make it to the top floor with two hallways stretching out on either side. You contemplated going to the left for a few seconds, but ultimately headed towards the right, figuring that Yuuji’s room could be there and if it wasn’t, you would just go the other way. You stop at the door at the end of the room, assuming that it’s the right one and open it without knocking.
The first thing that hit you was the fresh scent of jasmines and apricot, two flavours that you would never expect to be mixed together, but worked so well. You took in the surroundings of the large room next, admiring the rather dark academic route it took in terms of design with the large brown curtains hanging over the windows, the low level lighting hanging above your head. The closet was large and the doors were made out tempered, coloured glass, a rather brave choice but it seemed to contribute to the overall look of the room.
Seeing a couch with a coffee table at a corner, you decided to set your bag aside there while you admired the rest of the properties. You never took him for someone who’d have such a good taste for details, especially in terms of decor but he seemed to have exceeded your expectations of him. Even the floor is made up of mahogany wood board as opposed to the rest of the marble floors in the house.
You walk up to the medium sized reading table, admiring the hanging shelves over it stacked with books. The table was as clean as the rest of the room, each knick-knack and stationery arranged accordingly. Your eyes caught sight of the trophy case standing next to the closet in its own case and you walked up to it, admiring the sheer size. It was to be expected, since he had been on the varsity of his school team and was really good at sports. You take up one hand and trace a line over the case, carefully looking at the achievements.
“1st place at the Wimbledon championship, Male singles”
‘Interesting, I didn’t know Yuuji played tennis. I thought he mostly focused on basketball and track and field in school- oh, oh no-’
The second you read the next line your heart dropped to your stomach.
“Zenin Megumi”
Fuck, you were the wrong room. You should have known, the level organisation of this room and the lack of Jennifer Lawrence posters on the wall was too suspicious.
“I need to get out of this room as fast as possible-”
“What the hell are you doing in my room?”
As if things couldn’t get any worse.
Your body grew rigid at the sound of a male voice right behind you, too scared to turn around, sweating bullets despite the air conditioning of the room at being caught red handed like a fucking creep in some random guys room.
‘Oh god, how am I going to explain myself that it was an accident and I was going to Yuuji’s room?’
“I’m very sure I asked you a question. What the fuck are you doing in my room?”
Wait. That voice.
They say when you spend time away from someone, you usually forget a lot of things, like their scent, the sound of their voice, and even the way they look. But not you. You remember that voice as clear as a day. You know that Megumi Fushiguro’s voice deepened rather early, you know that bored, dead tone from anywhere, even in your grave.
The dots began to connect in your head as you matched the name to his voice.
‘It can’t be…’
You turn around, heart thumping loudly in your chest as you turn to look at the man standing behind you, glossy eyes taking in the features. The dark spiky hair that always seemed difficult to maintain, the blue eyes staring down at you, the slope of his nose, his lips, even his imposing height - being far taller than all those years ago.
“Megumi?”
Tears of joy blind you to the way his jaw tenses and without thinking, you engulf him in a warm hug, pressing your teary face into his broad chest.
“Oh, I’m so glad to see you. I’ve looked for you everywhere.” You blab, not realising how rigid he stood, not returning your hug. You assumed it’s because he’s not an affectionate person, and you’ve never minded it. “I missed you so much. I asked everyone that knew you and you were just gone-”
“Hey, Megs, have you seen my sister? I told her to wait for me in my room but I think she came into yours- oh, am I interrupting something?”
All it took was Yuuji coming into the room for you to be dragged back into reality, because Megumi is quick to place two hands on your shoulders, his grip nearly vice-like and pried you off himself before roughly shoving you towards your step brother. You let out a pained gasp as Yuuji catches you in time.
“Megumi what the fuck is your issue?”
You cannot see his facial expression, but you can feel his steely, unwelcoming gaze burning holes at the back of your head, making your heart drop further. “You’d do the same thing too if a random stranger hugged you out of nowhere.”
“She is not a stranger, she’s my sister and you don’t get to manhandle her the way you do to your other girls. Even if she’s in the wrong.”
“Well tell your step-sister to get her bag off my couch and take her out of here before I come back.” he snapped back.
You can’t believe your ears. Sure, you look different from how you did five years prior but was it so bad he couldn’t recognize you?
You’re brought out of your thoughts when the dark haired man walks past you both and without thinking you push Yuuji away, attempting to follow him. Your step-brother comes between you and the door, holding you by your forearms to prevent you from following Megumi.
“No, (name), stop. Just tell me what’s going on-”
You stay mute, evading Yuuji’s grasp and dash out of the door, following after Megumi. His legs were longer than yours and you had to speed up, nearly tripping on the stairs as you followed him into the common room, Yuuji not too far off. You reached him, grasping his wrist in a desperate attempt to get his attention. He freezes for a second but soon his shock turns to anger as he swivels his head to look at you.
“What the hell do you want?” He barked.
You flinch, remembering how frightening he could be when he lost his temper but push down your fear to look up at him, your gaze soft as you try to remind him that it's you. “G-gumi it's me!” You stutter out, trembling as you jumble through your words. “(Name) (last name)... w-we went to school together, you can recognize m-me right?”
It only seems like you’re making things worse, because he’s looking at you like he wants to wrap his hands around your throat and kill you for touching him. He yanks his hand away from you, his lips curled up in a sneer. “Keep following me around and you won’t be recognizable for long.”
No, no, this isn’t right. Sure Megumi was so hostile but not like this to you. He would never, ever threaten to put his hands on you, not even as a joke. This isn’t the Megumi you know, this cannot be the person you idolised, that you loved all those years.
This stranger is wearing Megumi’s face, saying things that your Gumi would never EVER say.
He walked away and you followed him down the stairs into the living room, ignoring the surprised stares of other frat members, watching you call after him desperately, “ ‘Gumi, Gumi! Wait, it’s me! I-i still have the bracelet we made together-” not caring how crazy you looked now. You need to understand why the hell Megumi was treating you like he’s never met you before, there has to be an explanation.
He doesn’t turn around or pay attention to your incessant cries, maintaining his ignorance. “Get lost. I don’t know you.” he says casually, almost as if he seems amused you’re embarrassing yourself. “Yuuji, get your crazy sister away from me.”
You feel lost, heart dropping to your feet at his words. Being reduced to nothing but a mere stranger after years of pining for him. Shame crawls up to your skin as you feel the entire house look at you like you’ve truly lost your mind for chasing after Megumi, humbling you completely. Yuuji catches up to you, a hand wrapped around your arm, trying to tug you away gently, but you’re rooted to the spot, unable to move.
‘T-there’s no way.’ Your head spins, trying to figure out what you did to offend him. Where did it all go wrong? Wasn’t this supposed to be the both of you reuniting? Rekindling your relationship? Even if he just acknowledged knowing you, you would have been satisfied. So why was he acting this way? ‘Does he truly not remember me? Or… is he… trying to pretend I don’t exist?’
There’s only one way to figure it out. There is one name that Megumi would answer to, no matter what.
“You say you don’t remember me, but we both know that’s not true.” You push Yuuji off again and tell him to stay out of it, taking a step forward with your back straight. It takes everything in you to keep your composure, not wanting to cry in front of these men. “Even after all these years, I can still tell it’s you. Have I changed so much you can’t recognize me?”
“Can you stop this madness-”
“Look me in eye and tell me that you don’t remember me Fushiguro-kun!”
The entire house goes silent. You’re breathing hard as Megumi abruptly stops in his tracks, slowly turning around to look at you. Your mouth goes dry when you see a flicker of fury in those blue eyes, before he masks it with a cold gaze.
“You really can’t take a hint, can you (name)? Years of maturing and you’re still so stupid.”
The way his tone is so even, without any hint of emotion feels like an ice bucket of water has been thrown on you.
“Is that all you have to say?” Your voice is trembling as you look at him incredulously. “After disappearing for five fucking years on me without a trace? All this time, I cried and waited for you! I thought something bad had happened to you-”
“How is that my problem?” He scoffed, now folding his arms across his chest, staring down at you like you’re the dirt beneath his feet and you instantly shrink underneath his gaze. “Don’t tell me you’re still obsessed with me? For five years? That’s really pathetic.”
Pathetic? How is it pathetic to be in love with someone who was supposed to love you back? Were you really pathetic to keep him in your heart all these years? “I-i don’t understand, y-you asked me to be your girlfriend right before you left! Y-you said you liked me-”
“We were in high school. I was a horny teenager and you were there. I said something nice so that I could mess around with you.” He groaned, uncaring that his words were hurting you. That he was admitting to just seeing you as a means to an end. “Don’t tell me all these years you believed the shit I said about liking you?”
‘This can’t be right.’ Your eyes are wide with shock, unable to comprehend the madness coming out from his mouth. Each word that he uttered takes apart your fragile heart piece by piece until there is almost nothing left, your frustration and anger rising with the entire situation. ‘No, no- this isn’t Gumi. He-he’d never do this to m-me-’
“I-i kept the bracelet we both made, to carry u-us with each other-”
“You mean the one with your nickname you gave to me? I threw it away the second I left for a new school.” He looks down at your wrist, a wry smile forming on his lips as he chuckles darkly. “Seems like you still wear yours.”
Your face felt hot as all eyes fell on you, embarrassment flooding your features. Megumi had practically made it known that you were nothing to him and he didn’t even consider you once when he left, in front of all of his frat members, while you pined after him like a desperate girl.
Thinking back to high school, it made sense now that he never loved you. He was always cold to you until you begged him. He refused to be seen with you in public but would make out with you in hidden corners of the school, then go back to pretending he doesn’t know you in front of his friends.
For years you had this idealised version of your Gumi in your head but now you realised you chose to believe in your own delusions.
You kept his sweater, his pictures, his gifts in a special box and his memories in your heart. You cried over him until you got ill when he disappeared and you even tried to run away from home to find him. You refused to date guys Mai would push your way because you were waiting for him.
You gave away five years of your happiness crying over someone that hates you.
You watch through teary eyes as Megumi leans close enough to you until his breath tickles your ears, whispering in a harsh voice, just for you to hear.
“Did you really think I’d like you now because you’re dressed like a skank? Wear all the fancy clothes you want, you’ll always be an insecure whiny brat who looks for affection everywhere but won’t find it.”
“You’re lying.” You spit back. You want to hurt him back, to make him feel the same way he’s made you feel; angry, humiliated. “There are tons of guys who will be lining up to fuck me the second I give the green light.”
“Exactly. They’ll want to fuck you, but they’ll never ever date you.”
Any form of self-worth or self-confidence you might have built up, came crashing down the second he said those words. You’re left standing there as he stood upright again, frozen at the way his words managed to unearth the insecurities you’ve tried your best to hide. You look at Megumi with tears in your eyes, defiant before taking a deep breath and composing yourself, blinking away tears.
Five years ago, if he had said these things to you, you would have cried. But you’re not a kid and you’d be damned if you shed tears for him in front of all the Alpha Beta boys and looked more pathetic than you already were.
“Yuuji, pass me my bag.”
Your step-brother holds it out for you, and without looking, you snatched it out of his hand. At least, he’s not trying to act like a good brother and getting in between your fight with Megumi. Maybe he knows it would make the situation worse.
You look at Megumi again, your once adoring gaze turned to that of anger and sadness. By God, he had become more handsome than ever, but it seems the Zenin’s have rottened him to the core. You look at his eyes again and see that his eyes are dull, like there is no life in them; like he’s dealing with perpetual sadness. He was always depressed in high school and you considered using the fact he used to cut the pain away too often to hurt him, but ultimately decided against it.
You were not going down that road. You still loved him more than you wanted to hurt him, even if it felt pathetic to do so like he said.
“You’re right.” You begin, a sad smile forming on your lips. “I’m pathetic. But at least I’m not as miserable as you are. Have a nice life, Zenin.”
With that, you walk past him with your head held up high and leave the frat house with a forced smile, ignoring the way your legs felt like jelly. It’s not until you enter a shuttle towards the Kappa sorority house that the crushing weight of humiliation and betrayal wears you down that you burst into tears.
Bonus:
‘Fuck, (name), keep squeezing me like that, Shiittt’
Megumi knows he’s a piece of shit. Ever since he entered the Zenin household and shed his Fushiguro last name, he’s been hitting one low to another, seemingly unaware of where the rock bottom is. He knows he’s done abhorrent, corrupt things that normal people would scrunch their nose in disgust. The Zenin’s are never afraid to get their hands dirty and he had to learn that at an early age if he had any chance of surviving that household.
But this was a new low, even for him.
Sweat dripped down his forehead, hair sticking to his forehead, glistening down his muscular body. His hips give timed thrusts, angled just right to send pleasurable waves through his body, hitting the right spot for the girl under him. Each movement elicits a soft moan from Hana, muffled by the position she was in; face down on his king sized bed with his hand pressing her face against the pillow, her torso held up by his arm around it whilst his cock pistoned in and out of her poor abused pussy.
On a normal day, it fed his large ego if she was crying out his name for everyone to hear it. He secretly prided himself in ruining a girl, making her cry for him and then tossing her aside. And they always crawl back, eager to do whatever he wants and give in to his selfish needs, no matter how shitty he treats them.
But today, he didn’t want to hear Hana say his name. He wished it was you.
And by god he hated it. He hated you so much.
If there was anything about you that never changed, it’s how you saw through him. Right in high school, you always knew when he was upset, even when he didn't say anything or act out; those times you would sit in silence and push your favourite strawberry yoghurt in his hands to make him feel better. Even in the midst of him tearing you apart, you had the audacity to call him miserable.
And he knows you’re right, but hearing it come out from your mouth hurts him, opening up a part of him that he buried in his heart.
How dare you make him feel vulnerable?
He wishes it was you he had in this position, but instead of pushing your head down, he’d grab you by your neck and make the entire house hear you cry. He’d fuck you like a slut, make you cum all over his cock so hard multiple times, until you couldn’t think about it. He wishes it’s your cunt he was fucking like a mad man, that was squeezing him like this so deliciously as he angled it to your g-spot, hearing your sharp in take of breath, trying to stave your orgasm off.
There’s a burning sensation at the back of his mind that aches for your body. He wants to be the one you’re the most vulnerable with, so that he can throw it back in your face. He wants to take his misery out on you.
“ ‘s too much, t’much- Gumi gonna cum-”
“Shut up” he snarled at her angrily. She called him that stupid name you always call him. No matter what he does, you keep haunting him everywhere he goes. “You’ll put me off if you talk. Just cum.”
And goodness, Hana has no self-worth as she cums hard, crying out his name over and over again. Megumi pretends it's your voice, that it’s you whining for him and it pushes him over the edge. He cums hard into the condom with a quiet groan, his body violently trembling as he rides his high, your face at the back of his mind until he’s spent.
He slowly removes his hand off her head and drags his cock out, letting her body fall limp onto his bed. He rolled over to face the ceiling in an attempt to catch his breath from having the best orgasm of his life.
Because he was thinking about you.
He knows it’s definitely not love. He doesn’t love anyone and he doesn’t care about anyone else beyond what he can gain. And he definitely enjoyed hurting you, making you cry. He enjoyed dragging you down to his level and he’s sure that’s not what someone who is in love does to the person they care about.
He is brought out of his thoughts when Hana rolls on her back, white hair splayed on his pillows, frowning like she’s dissatisfied with something he did.
Which is weird, he’s sure he made her cum.
Normally, he didn’t care and he would never ask, but today, he’s feeling a bit generous. "What’s up with you?” He asked. “You didn’t like it?”
There is a nervous pause, with her biting her lip anxiously, like she’s afraid of saying something that would offend him. It’s clear that whatever has been on her mind must be serious. Eventually, she takes a deep breath and starts talking.
“N-no, I liked today’s session, it’s just…” she mumbled, biting her lip nervously. Megumi raised a brow at her statement. “It’s just what? Spit it out.”
“You kept on calling me (name).”
‘Fuck.’
e-boys taglist: @officiallyjaehyuns @haikyuusboringassmanager @ilybbg @cockonoi @Rindou24689 @short-cxke @kokoch4n3l @GenAwi @reiners-milkbiddies @gh0stgirl333 @megumisdivinedogs @fushiqruo @kawaiikoalagarden @raven-nevra @ilovetwodmen @straightfromheaven @manchie55 @matchamilktea-05 @tenjikusstuff4 @Lovelyartistz @lik0 @iluv-ace @lovely-maryj @slvdsjjk @espresso1patronum @aegsland @madison777x
also available on wattpad under the name "Stupid Love"
#megumi smut#megumi fushiguro x female reader#megumi fushiguro#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi x reader#jjk smut#fushiguro megumi x reader angst#fushiguro megumi x reader smut#fushiguro megumi x reader#fushiguro smut#jujutsu kaisen megumi#jujutsu megumi#megumi x reader smut#megumi fushiguro x reader smut#fushiguro megumi smut#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen smut#tw. dark content
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SMUDGED LIPSTICK MASTERLIST!
𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: sakusa kiyoomi 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: rockstar!yn
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after a huge argument, they never spoke to each other again. it hurt, and she never really moved on, but that was years ago. they have careers to focus on now. him: a professional volleyball player, and her: the frontwoman of an alternative-rock band. as fate would have it, they meet again after years when he shows up at the bar that her band were performing in. but it's fine, right? she's moved on, right?
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: MINORS DNI, best friends to enemies to lovers!!!, you HATE him at the beginning, cursing, alcohol, drinking, smoking the #zaza, sexual jokes, implied sex but no actual smut, kissing, making out, romance stuff, yn is NOT perfect, probably spelling/grammar mistakes, probably out of character
yn's playlist -- sakusa's playlist -- yn style guide
𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬: yn and the virgins + ball fondlers
1: boy nipples
2: chivalry ✎
3: hot mysterious girl energy
4: a pattern ✎
5: no brainer
6: grow up
7: silent treatment ✎
8: reality check
9: realization
10: athlete privilege
11: fresh start ✎
12: the alpha
13: so casual ✎
14: feelings
15: cherry red ✎
16: liar
17: rumours
18: unknown number
19: a plan
20: dissipating fear ✎
bonus:
coming soon!
#sakusa kiyoomi#sakusa x reader#hq sakusa#haikyuu sakusa#msby sakusa#sakusa smau#kiyoomi sakusa x reader#haikyuu kiyoomi#kiyoomi x reader#hq kiyoomi#kiyoomi smau#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu smau#hq smau#hq x reader#hq x you#msby#haikyuu fic#smau#dividers by cafekitsune#sakusa x you#sakusa x y/n#kiyoomi sakusa smau#sakusa kiyoomi x you#sakusa kiyoomi x reader#sakusa kiyoomi smau#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu x you#haikyu x y/n#haikyu x you
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"Meanwhile in Zone 6, Party Poison, Jet Star, and Agent Cherri Cola were spotted dancing the night away with some of the lovely companion droids at Hyper-Thrust's. Careful boys, some of those Zone 6 droids started off as... Zone 1's."
They found an old camcorder and decided to have some fun! Not that the battery will last more than five minutes.
Anyways much love to @edenexxe , who requested an illustration of PP (GIVE ME ASKS PLEASE)!!
Please don't use my art for AI (although considering the amount of filters I hit this thing with, I doubt it would work anyways).
17 hours and 48 minutes, June 17-23
Tumblr absolutely crushed the quality, wow
I'm not very happy with the hair but it's alright 😭
^edited to sound less critical
#mcr#my chemical romance#party poison#jet star#killjoys#danger days#mcr fanart#gerard way#ray toro#artists on tumblr#boing-oposting#boingoart#i am coming off a 10 month art block.. so please be kind when some things look wonky 😭
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The Symphony Smut Series
A series of oneshots based on lyrics from my playlists and their songs
Day 1: Lana del Rey's Gods and Monsters;
In the land of gods and monsters I was an angel, looking to get fucked hard - Lee 'Know' Minho (Skz)
Day 2:Lana del rey's Brooklyn Baby
My boyfriends' in a band, he plays guitar while I sing Lou Reed - Heeseung and Jay (Enha)
Day 3: Doja Cat and Starbo3's D!ck
She came in like an addict - Kim Sunoo (Enha)
Day 4: Cat Peirce's You belong to me
Do what you please to me, I won't resist - Jake (Enha)
Day 5: Lancey Foxx's Lancey or Lancey
Took her to Paris, she took her panties off- Felix (Skz)
Day 6: Lana del Rey's Peppers
We write hit songs without trying like, all the time, all the time - Han Jisung (Skz)
Day 7: Julia Michaels' Heaven
they say all good boys go to heaven, but bad boys bring heaven to you - I.N/ Yang Jeongin (Skz)
Day 8: Lana del Rey's Cherry
My cherries and wine and all of my peaches are ruined - Heeseung (Enha)
Day 9: Flo Milli's Rodeo Ride
He love how I ride it, hop on a dick made him get excited - Changbin (Skz)
Day 10: Skz's Red Lights
I cannot breathe without you being right by my side - Seungmin (Skz)
Day 11:Charlie Puth's Dangerously
I love you dangerously - Sunghoon (Enha)
Day 12: Staind "Right Here"
But you always find a way to keep me right here waiting. - Hyunjin (Skz)
Day 13: Amaarae's Angels in Tibet
Louvre and Armani I like how you say it - Jay (Enha)
Day 14: Doja Cat's Agora Hills
Suck a little dick in the bathroom - Chan (Skz)
Day 15: Doja Cat's Agora Hills
Kissin I hope they caught us - Sunghoon (Enha)
Day 16: Todrick hall's Both
I can make you moist or i can make you fire - Minho and Chan (Skz)
Day 17: The Neighborhood's You get me so high
We should stick together, you're my best friend I love you forever - Jake (Enha)
Day 18: Amaarae's Angels in Tibet
Touch me where you need to, I can give you more - Minho (Skz)
Taglist: @ramenoil @mynameisniya150 @demigodmahash + whoever wants to be tagged, send an ask my way!
#smut#smut series#skz smut#stray kids smut#enha smut#Enhypen smut#bang chan smut#lee know smut#changbin smut#hyunjin smut#han smut#felix smut#seungmin smut#i.n smut#Heeseung smut#jay smut#jake smut#sunghoon smut#sunoo smut#skz smut drabble#skz smut fics#enhypen smut#enhypen smut reactions#enhypen smut imagines#smut fics#smur drsbbles#smut oneshots#kpop smut#smut kpop
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I, Sir Pentious’s, List of Things to Build:
1. Matching PJs for the Eggies
2. Warmachine that will DESTROY the Radio Demon and get the attention of the Vees!
3. New warmachine after RADIO DEMON!!! broke the last one (Include updated death ray??)
4. Parachute built into hat
5. Advanced technology to spy on the hotel to impress Vox An “I’m sorry cake.”
6. Nest for me and eggs
7. New coat for the radio demon?
8. Cannon to protect me from a flying cat, tall slutty spider, and a tiny… bug? Cannon to PROTECT the flying cat, tall slutty spider, tiny bug, and close female friends that share a room together.
9. Portable elevator. Stairs suck.
10. Device to prevent me from being thrown off a roof again.
11. Armor against dismembered arms. Also Niffty?
12. Gaydar? Whatever that is, I’m currently unsure.
13. Thing to kill a roomba with knives.
14. Device to open bottles for Husk
15. Quiet door opener/unlocker
16. Shield so Vagatha doesn’t stab me when I go into her room in the middle of the night.
17. Way to remove pornographic images from my brain.
18. SAFE bug killer for Niffty? So less knives
19. Way to remove Valentino from this plane of existence.
20. A safe, loving family for Charlotte.
21. Cookies for the king!!
22. Mechanical duck to get in the king’s favor!
23. Way to fix Father-Daughter relationship? (They did this themselves nevermind)
24. Protection from Radio Demon??
25. Device to get the cat and spider to talk about their feelings so I can stop third wheeling.
26. New wall? Make it indestructible.
27. Flowers Chocolates A bomb for Cherri??
28. Way to break demonic contracts for Angel (and also Husk??)
29. Hangover cure.
30. Prosthetic wings for Vagatha (nevermind she has her own sometimes? Would she want ones for when she doesn’t??)
31. Reinforcements for the building
32. Battle armor for the Eggies
33. Angel killing bullets, bombs, knives, teeth?? And cards??
34. General uniform
35. A moat
36. Poem for Cherri?
37. Angel suggested I added “the courage to actually ask Cherri out,” which I must say is sadly accurate.
38. New egg bois? Or way to resurrect the old ones??
39. Evil but still angelic clothing??
40. Way to communicate with Hell
41. Gift to show affection for Cherri and let her know I’m alive.
42. Way to show memories from Hell for Emily and Molly to see (a device may already exist??)
43. Family reunion for Angel (Anthony??) and Molly.
44. A way to get back home.
#he’s trying his best#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel memes#sir pentious#stupid hazbin hotel lists#chaggie#huskerdust#hazbin hotel found family#cherrisnake#sir repentious#egg bois#egg boiz#molly hazbin hotel#emily hazbin hotel
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풍각쟁이 리믹스 (피처링. 노윤하, 던밀스, 가오가이, 키츠요지, 오담률, 허성현) - 체리보이17 | [DF LIVE] CHERRY BOY 17
Cherry boy 17 - 풍각쟁이 Remix (feat. Roh Yunha, Don Mills, Kitsyojii, Kaogaii, Oh Damryul, Huh)
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( ✧ MY MASTERLIST! ✧ )
[ Will be updated in time, so be sure to check / refresh ] Some will not have links as they are not posted yet.
Want to know where else you can find me? Here.
Tips and tricks for baby writer's. Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10
HOUSE OF THE DRAGON.
"The only thing that could tear down the house of the dragon was itself.." [ Mix of HOTD and Modern AU ]
Aegon II Taragaryen - "The Upsurger King"
"Let the ravens fly that the realm may know the pretender is dead, and their true king is coming home to reclaim his father's throne."
The History Book on the Shelf. ( Complete )
Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5
Promise not to drop me? Only a fool would drop you. ( Complete )
Pt 1 Pt 2
Wanna wrap my hands around your neck. ( Complete )
Pt 1
Pt 2
Will you pray for me? ( Complete )
Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3
Like real people do. ( Complete )
Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3
Small council, cherry tarts and dragon dreams.
Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3
In the dark of the night.
Run rabbit, run run run.
A glimpse of us.
Oh, who is she?
From my blood, comes your ruin.
The worst guy to share a blunt with.
Money, Money, Money, must be funny in a rich man's world.
Aemond Targaryen - "The One Eyed"
"Do not mourn me, Mother. It was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon."
The Baratheon Curse. ( Complete )
Pt 1 Pt 2
Small council, cherry tarts and dragon dreams.
Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3
A game I couldn't lose.
Don't touch what is mine.
S-I-M-P
Either way what bliss.
I was gone for five fuckin' minutes.
Helaena Targaryen - "The Dragon Dreamer"
"It is our fate, I think, to crave always what is given to another. If one possesses a thing, the other will take it away."
Small council, cherry tarts and dragon dreams.
Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3
You have so much to do, and I have nothing ahead of me.
Alicent Hightower - "The Green Queen"
"The city is yours, Princess. But you will not hold it long. The rats play when the cat is gone, but my son Aemond will return with fire and blood.."
I hope the guilt kills you.
Jacaerys Velaryon - "The Lord Strong"
"For my mother, for my family, I will fight till my last breath.."
I don't want to be his Queen, I want to go home.
THE CONQUEROR REBORN. [ A HOTD FANFIC ]
"Twas' a tangled web Roselyn Hightower found herself in. Weaved so intimately with Aegon and Helaena Targaryen."
Chapter / Excerpts.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8
Book Info.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Edits.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11
12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21
THE PINK PONY CLUB. [ A HOTD x MODERN AU FANFIC ]
"In every other universe, Roselyn Hightower would find Helaena Targaryen and Aegon Targaryen. And in every other universe, it does not end well for them."
Chapter / Excerpts.
1 2 3 4
Book Info.
1 2 3 4 5
Edits.
1 2 3
DEAD FICS / I WILL NEVER WRITE FOR THESE FANDOM, CHARACTER'S, ETC. AGAIN.
Wednesday [ TV Show ]
Watch my heart burn. ( Complete & Discontinued )
Pt 1 Pt 2
House of the Dragon.
Burn. ( Complete & Discontinued )
Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3
By your side. ( Complete & Discontinued )
Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3
Six of Crows. [ TV Show ]
When your older. ( Complete & Discontinued )
Pt 1 Pt 2
Haven't I given enough?
Percy Jackson.
I just died in your arms. ( Complete & Discontinued )
Pt 1 Pt 2
Old enough to understand.
Close your eyes.
The Boys.
Doin' Time.
A leap of faith.
The other woman.
The Walking Dead.
5 stages of grief.
The Hobbit.
Never trust a spell.
----
Tell me if you see any errors and I'll fix them asap!
#house of the dragon#house of dragons x reader#house of the dragon x reader#hotd imagines#hotd x reader#aegon ii targaryen#hotd imagine#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon ii targaryen x reader#aemond x reader#aemond targaryen x reader#the boys#the hobbit#percy jackson x reader#six of crows x reader#the walking dead x reader#wednesday x reader#masterlist#masterpost
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People REALLY liked my Scottho post, which I thought might get maybe 17 notes if even that, so, uh, here’s a dabble based on literally one line towards the end of Etho’s 5th episode of Wild Life.
—————
“Best Decision I’ve Ever Made” -Etho
The rain lashed against the cobblestone roof above Scott’s head. For the sake of privacy and as a defense mechanism against Impulse and Cleo’s snoring, Pearl and Scott had put up cherry wood walls between the four color coordinated beds in the small base. Scott had thought about putting a window by his bed, but he figured it was best to keep his enemies from being able to see into his base in a death game. The blankets were heavy, and Scott was lying on his stomach, completely limp. His cerulean eyes drooped. Grian’s games were fun, but they were also exhausting. If he was being honest, his favorite part came after the games, when he was curling up in his bed with his cat and sleeping for hours and hours after a whole pot of pasta.
There was a knock on the door.
Scott’s shoulders had just settled into the mattress, but he shoved himself up from the bed. His chest was heaving just from pulling himself onto his knees on his bed, and he took a moment to decompress from that effort alone. Nobody else was going to answer the door. Scott is nothing if not selfless. He puts his weight onto his left hand, feeling it sink into the sheets, and swings his legs over the edge of the bed.
The teal haired man stumbled his way to the door of his room and leaned against the frame, running his hands through his bed head. If he was going to answer the door in the middle of the night, he may as well look the best he can manage to represent his team. Scott’s feet dragged themselves to the front of their base, shoulders sagging. Impulse’s snores were faint, but they were audible. Scott pulled his head up to look through the small window in the door. A black eye and a red eye looked back at him. The blue haired man shot upright.
“Etho?” Scott swung the door open towards himself. The poor man’s white hair dripped and sagged over his headband, covering it completely. Etho’s eyes were as sunken in as Scott’s, and they were almost hidden in the dark of the night. Water rushed down his skin, dappled with sun and age. The torches covering the base were like a bonfire outlining Etho’s lean frame. Scott was starting to think he had overdone it with the mob spawn-proofing.
“I know this-” Etho couldn’t finish his sentence, before Scott was dragging him inside by his dripping vest. Scott was too tired to notice how Etho’s eyes dropped to look at his lips, momentarily confused as to the blue boy’s intentions.
“What are you doing out here?” Scott slammed the door shut behind them and practically threw himself into his team’s storage. He fished out the thickest wool blankets they had. Cleo had prepared them for the team during the early days of the game, before they had walls and a roof over their heads to keep out the wind. They didn’t need such heavy blankets now that they were in a safe little abode, but Scott was a hoarder. This was exactly why. He wrapped them securely around Etho’s shoulders, and his hands brushed Etho’s neck. The white haired man was ice cold, but he wasn’t shaking. Scott knew cold like nobody else. Etho should be freezing. His teeth should be chattering, and his nose should be running. Maybe Scott would never understand how Etho had managed to reach such a point in his life that such conditions were normal to him.
“Bdubs stole my bed,” Etho shrugged, hugging the blankets closer to him, digging his fingers into the fabric. “You have- uh. Thank you,” Scott would not have been surprised if Etho was about to admit that he hadn’t seen a blanket in weeks. “I know that I was the one who said that we- uh, that we would keep it, keep this alliance on the downlow, but…”
Scott blew on his hands several times and pressed them against Etho’s masked jaw. It was tense. That must be why his teeth weren’t chattering. Etho stared at Scott. The tension in his shoulders, even under the thick wool, visibly relaxed, and his head dropped into Scott’s palms, which felt like a fireplace on Etho’s face. The stiffened joints in Etho’s neck audibly cracked, and Scott could practically feel the knots in Etho’s shoulders and upper back unraveling.
“You don’t have to apologize for wanting to be warm,” Scott murmured. Thumbs rubbed Etho’s cheekbones, which seemed to jut from his face. The blue haired boy made a mental note to feed this lanky man.
Part of Scott wanted to pull Etho’s head into his neck and cradle his shoulders, letting the man put all his, admittedly very minimal for such a tall survivalist of a man, weight on him. He pulled away instead. Scott pulled a towel out from the chest monster and draped it over Etho’s head. A surprised little “oh!” squeaked out of Etho’s throat, as Scott dug his hands into the towel and mussed Etho’s soaked hair, doing his best to dry it. Trying his best to keep his head still, Etho squeezed his eyes closed, as Scott bunched the towel in his hands on Etho’s scalp. The redstoner’s hair was pretty short. Scott didn’t have to try too hard to get it dry enough.
“Uh, do you have an extra, an extra bed?” Etho shuffled in place and rolled his shoulders. Scott did not have an extra bed, nor did he have the resources to make one. The G’s had yet to move their livestock, so shearing sheep would require a fifteen minute run to and from the island far from the rest of the bases in the rain and darkness.
“Yeah. It’s in that room,” Scott handed Etho a water bottle and nodded to his own room, pulling the blanket off of Etho. “You go ahead. I should set up a hook in here to dry this.”
Reluctantly, Etho pulled his mask down. Scott turned away respectfully, but he could hear Etho drinking. He sounded like he hadn’t had fresh water in a year, before he made his way to the ‘spare’ room. He stood in the doorway for a moment and looked back at Scott. The dry man did his best to ignore it, pretending everything was normal. Scott wrung the water out of the blanket in his hands and draped it over his shoulder, opening the chests to look for the materials for a tripwire hook. Etho’s eyes softened, and he crossed his arms, leaning against the wall.
“This is your room,” Etho stated. Scott huffed and half-heartedly picked through a chest for string.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Scott tried.
“I’m tired, Scott. I’m not clueless. The whole room is blue,” Etho argued. Scott threw the blanket onto the chests.
“We don’t have a fifth bed,” Scott mumbled, defeated, and looked up at the taller man. Etho shrugged nonchalantly. He hadn’t pulled his wet mask up. His lips had a scar running through them. It looked like it might have been from the same attack that scarred over his eye. Scott ignored that he was looking at Etho’s lips.
“So I’ll sleep on the blanket.”
“Absolutely not.” The blue haired boy sped over to Etho and practically tossed him onto the teal sheets. Scott closed the bedroom door behind him. “You’re not a stray fighting for scraps on the street anymore, sir. You’re my teammate, and no less.”
Scott tugged the blankets from under Etho and tossed them onto his frozen form. The warmth from when Scott was still under the sheets not too long ago seeped into Etho’s muscles. The older man had little time to react before Scott climbed in next to him, wrapping his arms around Etho’s neck and tucking Etho’s damp head under his chin. Etho didn’t know what to do with his cold hands. It seemed rude to press them against Scott’s warm shoulder blades. Scott’s neck felt scorching against Etho’s frozen nose. He doesn’t know when he had begun to let his body shiver.
“...If you insist,” Etho whispered. Scott’s hands ran through his damp hair. They felt like a mug of hot chocolate after a day in the snow. He felt like he was melting. “This is, like, the best decision I’ve ever made, I think.”
—————
Thanks for reading my little drabble!!🩵
#trafficblr#smajor#scott smajor#ethoslab#trafficshipping#scottho#wild life smp#i might make them kiss👀we’ll see#i wrote this in like an hour it just flowed out of me#i couldn’t stop or else i think i would’ve just died#they’re such an interesting pair i want more of them#drabble#scottho drabble#really tried to convey the weight of exhaustion with this one#the human body is heavy and we do not always have the strength or energy to hold it up
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WARNING
how can I believe sijageun lil chili We don’t stop, you say whata dilly Bop Like a G.O.D chai beolliji I delete like alli Mr. punggakjaengi You can’t see me ijen daeum seutebeul release Yeah You don’t want biseuthagimanhago jilliji So CHERRY BOY konseoteu haetdahamyeon maejin iraedo musihae? xxck your hiphap busim YEAH xxck you xxtch I made when you run away, we stay gihoe juuija meollihae you…
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Attempted Vehicular Manslaughter
BILLY HARGROVE X MALE READER
Summary: Max Mayfield hosts a pool party.
Content Warnings: Use of the F-slur, Use of Queer in a derogatory manner, Injuries, Verbal Abuse, Abusive Household Dynamics, Reader makes a 'if I wanna kms' joke
Other Pairings: Nancy Wheeler x Male Reader, Jonathan Byers x Male Reader, Max Mayfeild x Male Reader, Mike Wheeler x Male Reader
AUTHOR NOTE(S):
Oh brother we got a chatterbox
Had a dream about this ya'll
Readers a little sassy
Reader has a little brother
Reader has a bit of savior complex
Readers also kinda impulsive?
It's 3 am
_________________________________________
The grass was rough and patchy in the backyard, filled to the brim with wilted daisies and weeds crawling through the sprinklers. It was hardly worth a note of much consideration, as there had been nothing of great importance to discuss. There were many trees boarding the house. Pine or oak, maybe. And one dying cherry tree that was a stand alone in the yard. That was about the extent of anything substantial past the old silver fence that matched your shoes.
Nearest the house, under the shade, were several lawn chairs designated for the so-called "chaperones". The older brothers and sisters of the tweens. But really, it was nothing more than a cover-up.
Something to appease the parents' of the Hargrove house because Max knew it was odd to be friends with a group of kids the same age as her brother. Even her mother, who'd tried to remain impartial to any situation, narrowed her eyes and shifted her purse tighter when the suggestion of more than a couple 17 year old's parading around her house came.
Your mom was just happy you got along, let alone made some real friends outside the books, and encouraged the notion. More parental control, she reasoned. Less chances you were off with someone who intended on trouble.
Of course, all the shit about fighting monsters and being on the brink of death with these same friends wasn't factored in.
But no one besides them and the sheriff's deputy needed to know that.
The first time you had met the kids was, admittedly, what one would refer to as a kerfuffle. Riled up and trying to be dominant. Of course, because Billy was there, it spiraled even farther, and someone's head nearly got bashed into a rock.
That someone being you of obviously, after you'd been goaded into the fight and decided to step up. And boy, did Billy hate to lose. Hated being talked down to by a smaller kid who barely had pimples left on his face, let alone bulk.
You put up a good fight. You had a mean hit, especially the lick you gifted to Billy's chest, knocking the wind out of him when it connected. There was a bruise on his ribcage for days after and all the satisfaction he could possibly imagine at knowing it was from you.
But then he nearly killed you so, things turned sour rather quickly.
Which led to a rather impromptu welcome into the group of misfits, the lot of them. Unannounced and unexpected, you marched into the party after your small break down. Ready to be let in and accepted.
Finding out about the Upside Down was a mere accident.
You hadn't gone out of your way to befriend a group of children. Hadn't expected much in regards to friendship period even after getting your ass kicked by Billy Hargrove. Let alone a lifetime, one built from the shared experience of the horrors that lurk just underneath town, attached to one particular boy of the group.
But here you were. Standing in the backyard of Max's home like an idiot with the sun bearing down at your back. The late summer day nearly reached over 100 degrees as the clock neared the noon hour. Something you might have missed otherwise if it wasn't for the black analog watching you closely every time you renetered the house for a drink.
The main gaggle of kids swam and screamed every few seconds, trying to drag you into a half-baked game of Marco Polo that had the older Hawkins teens eyeing each other with concern.
You tapped the top of your can to ease the anxiety, looking around the edge of the yard again, past Max's mother, who waved awkwardly and would come around every so often, offering drinks or food to you, Nancy, and Jonathan.
"Nervous?" Jonathan prodded in his way, looking up from the half eaten sandwhich Will had taken two large bites from, making sure he had gotten his fill and packing it away when he received two big thumbs up from his little brother before he rentered the pool.
"Ah. " You leaned against the lawn chair, rolling your neck before looking over. "Expecting Billy to jump out from one of these corners, " you gesture towards the many hiding places you have spotted in the yard. "cause a scene. "
Nancy shifted uncomfortably, twisting her skirt slightly. "Not yet, at least. " She added while fidgeting with the button over the waist. "I thought he'd show up at least half-way through this thing. "
"Yeah, " you agreed, "thats why I'm–"
"On edge?" Jonathan filled in for you, a soft smile gracing his lips as Will looked over.
"Ready, he means. " Mike piped up, his hand was fully plunged into the cooler chest, blindly shifting around the ice as he looked over at the three.
Something in the tension held firm in the pit of your stomach, because the only times that this happened was whenever a confrontation was supposed to take place.
And judging from all the past events that had occurred, however mundane or fantastical they may be, this was probably going to end badly in more than just a couple of ways.
You'd managed to keep pretty calm in the past concerning Billy. Kept a level head about whatever shit he'd decided to cause that week. But something felt wrong today. That air in your gut had been hard to shake.
And the fact he had yet to make an appearance so far, did very little in easing you. And apparently everyone else involved.
"Don't know what his fucking problem is. " You curse, sitting up in the chair, "Never waits long to start shit."
In fact, you can almost pinpoint the time he entered the premises, an excuse to blame him for the sudden tightening in your gut and the goosebumps on your skin. Yet, he hadn't entered the backyard once since he got home. He stayed holed up in his room the entire day and that much was evident every time you, or Nancy, or Jonathan or one of the kids entered the house and heard the rock music blasting from his bedroom.
He hadn't even made a shadow to have showed his face.
For hours you waited.
Hours of worry and unease ate away at your gut while the rest of the party commenced unhindered.
And yet, it seemed all but for nothing in the grand scheme of things. Because as the sun started to lower from its zenith, you and the rest grew more tired and eventually, the temperature started to cool to a point where splashing around in the pool was no longer appropriate.
The kids came clamoring out, dripping in more chemicals than water, screaming and laughing in the process. It was getting near the five hour mark by then.
Your mind was heavy when you stood up to go inside, nearly tripping when your eyes clashed with the eldest person in the home, the both of you freezing awkwardly in the middle of the walk.
Both you and Max's mother were silent in each others presence. Stoic if there was ever a word for it.
Neil always seemed to be staring off into nothing, zoned out to some far away place only those who drowned themselves in alcohol and other momentary pleasures existed. They didn't interact, besides maybe the occasional conversation starter, or nod in passing whenever a person came too close for an inch of comfort. Not unusual in your opinion of strained marriages.
You began to speak, went to get yourself out of this weird positioning you've seemed to found yourself in. But Susan beat you to it.
"Can you do me a favor?" She beckoned before turning around and trotting off into the kitchen. Already assuming you would listen. You usually did. There weren't any hidden agendas for her actions and nothing against you personally.
She held some power that you wished wasn't. You would take just about any job that required you to be away from the current obstacles of your personal life. But as she turned back to look at you with that indescribable air and knowing nod, she had beaten you.
"Whats up?" You replied, voice more gravely then you meant it to be as you walked up behind her. She was sticking something into the microwave.
"Bye, Y/N/N. " Nancy had emerged from the Hargrove bathroom when she stood on her toes to place a friendly kiss on your cheek before joining Jonathan.
"See ya, Nance. " You say as the dark haired girl glided away, passing a wave to Jonathan and then they were out the front door.
The house was mostly empty now with nearly all the kids back home, and Dustin and Max tucked away in her room, waiting for Dustin's mother. There was enough silence now that you were itching to leave. The house had settled quiet, but you couldn't describe it as comfortable. There was a ribbed blanket across the couch that had obviously been sat on by its dishelved look.
The TV was on but the volume had been lowered so much that you were better off listening to Billy's faint music from down the hall for entertainment.
Water rushed from somewhere on the other side of the house and the distinct slam of a door being pulled shut gave you the visual to what you were hearing. Your little brother, most likely. You'd seen him dip down the hallway like he was about to shit himself the moment Nancy exited the bathroom.
You shifted around, placing your backside agaisnt the counter as you found new things to look at. Languidly, you watched, senses picking out different things around the house to latch on to. The light green walls, the ugly brown patterns on the carpet, the hum of the refrigerator that, strangely enough, harbored no family photos, just magnets with various corny sayings.
Your eyes lingered on the fridge.
Everything here was simple. Blank like a fresh canvas of dry paint. Apart from the dishes left in the sink and the few items of clothing to be picked up off the ground, it felt oddly wrong for an occupied residence.
"Y/N?"
A shift in the environment rippled over your skin and something felt charged but not in a fearful sort of way. You're pulled from your small internal worry by the same woman from before.
"Billy hasn't come from his room all day, mind taking this to him?"
Susan's got a glass plate in her hand, slightly extended our towards you. It's filled at every turn with food she'd transfered from the tupperware after the ding of the microwave you hadn't quite heard.
That same gut feeling crawled up your insides again, but you blamed the way your throat tightened on the anxiety. Why it was something now and not earlier, you can't be sure.
But, if there's one thing you learned from movies and popular tv shows, it's never to interrupt the motherfucker when he's listening to rock. But, here's your excuse. So, with a small nod and the plate in your hand, you try to shake it all away.
Because the worst that could happen is you get your ass beat again.
Stepping up to the wood slated door gave your lungs a run for their money. It was as if all the air had been sucked from the atmosphere and the pressure collapsed the walls around you. Only breathing through your nose you shook the fear away with a raised fist to the door, clenched the plate in your opposite hand.
Bass rattled through the floor and past the wooden door, you're graced with the faint sounds of the guitar on the stereo. There were bits of vocals in the background, a baritone voice that spoke. And perhaps that was part of the appeal. Your fingers danced on the metal that resided at the entrance. It felt cool on your skin.
You knocked again after a few seconds. Nothing sounded on the other side of the door but you were still unsure if Billy could hear you above the music. Maybe he'd turn it down once his father returned from whatever place he'd ventured off to in the night. But you didn't exactly have that time to be waiting around, despite your own fathers late tendencies.
You took a moment to think if you should just leave the plate on the floor, let him pick it up, and try to call a ride. You exhaled quickly, shifting your balance onto your other hip.
Before you even touched the doorknob with a single digit, the music turned down significantly and suddenly the atmosphere was more intense than you'd anticipated.
Which, was the new normal.
But, still.
Things felt off. The pressure in your bones caused your limbs to rise upward, to defend yourself, to at least put yourself in some position that wouldn't leave you open to attack.
For what?
You didn't know.
Because all Billy did was peer up at you from the crack in his door. Nothing significant yet his stare was nothing less than striking. Those blue things could put the oceans to shame, rivaling even the sky in its vivid colors. They were a mirror.
They shifted to the food, briefly. Then immediately returned back to you as the speaker could barely emit its sound.
You watched as the boy straightened, sighed and then opened the door wider, leaving the frame unguarded as he trailed off into his room.
The door held open but his gaze disappeared into the space on his mattress, and the music lowered a touch, no longer loud enough to break the door from its hinges but loud enough that Billy had to raise his voice over it to be properly heard.
You took a cautious step forward after staring at the boys backside, his attire didn't leave much to imagination but his half nude state was the least of your discernment seeing as one, you were fashioned the same way and two, Billy Hargrove was wordlessly inviting you into his room.
You thought maybe this was some kind of trick, a ploy to get you cornered, so your eyes danced over him in brief, consistent glances as you proceeded forward.
He was sitting by his window, a cigarette stuck between his two fingers as he silently stared off into the the darkness the world outside offered.
It was strange. Seemingly off guard as he propped the knee of one leg against the window, giving a free range to his left to lean. Hair swept over the shoulder to show part of his sharp jawline, which dimmed only with each intake of the deadly nicotine.
The room was bland save for a few posters, white walls, brown dresser pressed against a corner and a night stand tucked at the opposite. Clothes were tossed about, either on the floor or hung up half assed on something that you could only guess as a proper hanger.
His nightstand was covered in trash and empty beer cans and you thought of shoving them away before deciding to place the plate on his bed instead.
You spared him a last glance after the action, perplexed by the fact he was just so— quiet. Which, was certainly odd to everyone at least within half a mile from here. Usually the moment you entered his space, his bubble, he erupted like an animal defending its territory.
You decided not to push your luck. Because right now, it felt like the deadly cat across the African plains simply hadn't noticed you. And so your steps were as carefully placed as they had been when you entered. It was almost relaxing despite the looming feeling from the boys demeanor.
Billy felt a wave, a sort of ripple through the air as the presence of another remained in the room. He didn't bother to speak, only raised the unlit cigarette to his lips in a curious manner and took an unsteady puff, letting the wind carry the smoke out the screen. There was a storm, one he had sensed earlier but was hard to make out amongst the many things that had clouded his mind with anger.
Luckily, the only thing he could blame his outburst on earlier this morning was exhaustion, a clear sign of his lack of sleep from the night before which would easily explain his half dead posture and irritability that had pissed off nearly everyone around him.
Another explanation for his hideout in his room but one you couldn't quite understand.
You neared the exit when the floorboards creaked just as they had before and you almost wanted to freeze in your place. Like the cat would come pouncing now, mauling you to death.
"Not gonna make a show of it?" Came Billy's voice, it was low and calm but you caught the slight strain of it. As if he needed a clear of his throat to even be fully heard.
"A show of what?" You cast a glance over your shoulder, brows knit.
The blonde gestured with his lips, the subtle shift in his elbow drawing attention to the stick of tobacco. "I was waiting for some goddamn spectacle, L/N. "
"I don't know what you're talking about, Billy. " You sounded exasperated already and you stepped over a black shirt with a design you couldn't quite decipher from its crumpled up state. You made sure not to add anymore scratches to the ground and turned around, placing your back firmly against the door frame.
Billy's muscles became tense with the new body turned on him and he felt the wave again, the stirring of new energy entering the atmosphere.
But you had simply done so so that your back wasn't uncomfortably to him when you left.
"Whatever. " Was all Billy seemed to say before shutting you out, shoving that fucking piece of shit plate away from him. And in the split second your brain focused on how fast food was supposed to get cooled and not nearly three seconds after swallowing his cancer stick Billy must've caught the attention of the devil himself.
There was no denying the jagged yell, the shuffling in his voice like someone was gripping his head and holding it under water. You jumped away, eyes as wide as saucers as Billy's bedroom door flung open, smacking the adjacent wall with a loud slam that nearly cracked the plaster from the force.
And yet, his voice was a lot less louder than his grand entrance. "Hey, shit face. Why don't you make yourself useful instead of sitting around all day, having our guests, " he gestured to you, "bring you your own fucking food. "
You moved a step back, almost tripping on your own footing from your struggle to balance yourself without the solid sense of feeling. Your eyes darted frantically between the two people within your viewing distance, and you could barely make out Susan a few feet away who had her hand clasped on Max's shoulder.
She was ushering her daughter to their bedroom but Max refused, and the red head stood beside the door with a wary look.
"Get up. And give him a ride home. " Another gesture to you and when you looked towards the entrance of Billy's room again Neil was taking up the entire frame.
"That's really not–" You began but stopped as both of the parents turned to look at you with an appalled look. It was nothing personal but you doubted Billy even knew where you lived and the only time you ever rode with him was pervious to when he'd beat your ass.
"My dad–" You tried again.
"He won't answer the phone, much less pick you up. " Susan jumped in, though the hesitation on her voice made you doubt if that was her plan all along. "Your brother got a ride with the Henderson's. "
"Put on a shirt, stop acting like a balless queer, and go. " Again Neil thrust a drawn out, mocking tone, like his son couldn't comprehend basic sentences and he stepped out of the way to make room for your departure.
Billy's got a storm brewing in his expression and there was one moment where his eyes met yours and you were sure you'd drown in all the hate there was.
You didn't get a chance to argue about the amount of time it would take to get there and about how you would manage on your own. In fact, something in Max's eyes told you it'd be better not to. So you pressed your lips against each other as Billy grabbed his keys and pushed past you.
You watched Billy stalk past everyone, a gruff 'Yes, Sir' leaving his lips that you almost hadn't heard as he passed his father.
You exited the room shortly after, not sparing Susan or Neil a goodbye as you gingerly took your shirt from Max's hands.
She made a comment, something quietly spoken that not even your heightened hearing could make out over Billy's obnoxious slamming of the front door that he knew he would pay for later. You watched the young girl as she returned to her room.
Silence welcomed you when you first stepped into the driveway, stretching across the cement with a sense of uncomfortablity that didn't seem to fade as you entered the car and were met with a chilling quiet.
Billy didnt look at you as his ignition roared to life, nor did he speak to you as he pulled out the drive way. He stared ahead, chin down as he leaned just slightly forward, supporting an arm on the side door, palm rubbing soothing circles into his temple.
He was going 20 above the speed limit. You assumed you two were trying to get as far away from the house as you could. But, the further into the neighborhood you went, the lower the numbers on the radio dropped and the more the car filled with quiet music.
Hargrove was completely out of it, lost in some other space where you weren't welcome. And the car had filled with a tension you doubted he'd meant to cause, but given his current mood, you didn't think he could avoid it either.
Despite this, you chose to press yourself against the door with a turned head, the muscles in your body growing taut with discomfort the more you tried to make it seem as if you weren't even of existence in the passenger seat.
You wanted out of the car.
That much you could draw from your mind when you found that the speedometer was at 55 and increasing.
"Billy. " You tore your gaze from the meter, flickering over the silent boy who was intent on looking only at the road ahead.
No answer. His jaw was tightened and set. There were lines buried in the skin.
"Billy. " Your voice held a certain firmness that he didn't quite like.
Silence still and he tightened his grip on the leather, knuckles turning white. The streetlights were getting ready to cast those obnoxious eyes and like a perfect chain of events the little hairs of a certain song burst from the speakers.
His hand, fast with anger, whipped across the volume dial, ceasing the tune and replacing it with the rumble of the engine.
An inhale, then a single word. "What. "
Somehow you think that's the opposite of an answer. It's barely a question. With the tone of voice he held he shouldn't have phrased it that way because he clearly didn't want to know what you had to say, what you thought.
"Stop the car. I'll walk. " It was simple enough and on any normal occasion Billy might've done just that rather than wasting his gas on you. But tonight was different, and Billy, seemingly fueled by his own agitation, just blew past the stop sign and sent the speed at which the Camaro rolled up with you at dangerous levels.
The car vibrated lightly beneath you, air whistling as you tore through the neighborhood at an alarming rate.
"Oh for fucks sake. " It was a mutter to yourself because you hadn't exactly expected the boy to be cooperative but you didn't think you'd be forced to jump out of a moving car again. Yet, here you were; gripping the handle, poised like a god damn animal, eyeing the road as you built up your goddamned gallantry.
You didn't catch the surprise on Billy's face when he noticed you push the door open against the harsh winds.
Fuck it.
You fell with ease and with a soft oof! your limbs were somehow able to stand the blow rather than becoming mangled chunks of meat against the pavement. You could hear the car skidding to a stop five houses down as you took a moment to roll around in your own pain.
Your shirt had rode up on your torso, back pressed against the heated road as your skin made contact with the tar. You had a few scrapes along your spine, one over the delicate hip bone. And you were pretty sure the road had peeled the skin on your forearm all the way down to the elbow but hey, at least it wasn't your fucking face.
A few drops of blood gathered on a pebble directly to your right. Your nose gave a sharp twinge of pain.
"Dick. " You said that in regards to him, for every aspect of his personality. Because Billy Hargrove was what others considered a giant dick.
If you hadn't suspected it before you were sure when you heard the wheels start to turn again, the shift of a gear springing the Camaro back to life. And then footsteps, louder than the car itself, were slapping against the asphalt.
"Are you out of your fucking mind!?" You raised your head, eyes coming to focus on Billy's very fucking pissed form towering above you. Arms crossed defensively, face twisted with irritation as he glared down at you with something close to— well it looked a lot like anger but Billy only knew one of three emotions and that was definitely not concern.
"Fuck you. " You managed through a puddle of blood in your mouth that you promptly spit out, only having realized it was there the moment it began forming bubbles when you tried to speak.
Billy's voice stuttered in reply. "What the fuck is your problem? Do you want to fucking kill yourself or something?! "
"Better than death by fucking vehicular manslaughter on the account of Billy fucking Hargrove. " You muttered, hands pressing into the road to give you leverage when you attempt to stand up. Your body immediately yells a no to this action and you lay right back down on the road.
"What?" Billy is completely distraught in the sense that his brain has seemed to burst due the sheer incomprability of your actions.
"Oh I don't know, Billy, maybe the next time I feel like killing myself I'll call you and we'll go a hundred miles an hour off the fucking side of a cliff. "
The boys eyebrows were nearly touching his hairline as he stared at you.
"Watch me die like an old school movie where they're surrounded by bubbles and colors and shit. "
You spit the last remnants of blood from your mouth and Hargroves face ran red and blue. "Can you fucking shut the fuck up and get up already before anyone sees you. " He demanded, practically dancing around your form. Arms stretched out with a stance that reminded you very much of a gymnast.
"No. No. I think I'll lay here for a sec. " You roll onto your backside, a groan in your voice, arms folding over your body, posed like a corpse.
Billy stops in his antics and stares at you incredulously. "Are you serious?"
"Very serious, yes. " Your voice almost comes out like a sigh.
Billy reels, and if it wasn't for the fact your eyes were sealed shut now, you'd be able to see the absolute bewilderment of the teen as he stood there in the middle of the empty street. Arms half poised over you but not touching your form. As if he didn't know what do with you.
"...Get up. " He demands, standing straight again, his hands on his waist. This time he's not commanding you in that cold manner. There's a little rise to his voice like he's beginning to lose his patience, his forehead furrowing with anger.
You take another few moments to enjoy the silence. You swear you hear a cicada or something squeak from a window sill nearby and the air felt cooler than it has in weeks. Until it all becomes overbearing and your chest burns from a lack of oxygen. You didn't even realize you were holding your breath.
You open an eye to test the waters.
Billy's scowling now, a hand on his hip and the other resting across his forehead in disbelief. At you or the situation, you weren't entirely sure. Both you imagined. But there was a certain look on his face like he was ready to pull some kind of theatric, a reaction, throw a punch to knock some sense into you but ultimately decided against it.
"Where do you live?" He asked the question in such a manner that you couldn't help but be wary of his intentions.
"...Why?" You asked, the caution obvious in your voice. As he loomed over you like that... it wasn't doing a whole lot of trust building.
You almost hear the growl of frustration from his throat as he began rocking on the balls of his feet, hands swinging like he wasn't able to grab hold of something. "So we can fucking go. Before someone calls the fucking cops. "
You still hesitated.
"Before I fuck you up so hard they'll have to identify you by your fucking sperm. " Okay there were his threats. But they lacked the substance of his normal demeanor. He didn't seem overly angry like he typically did but still, his body gave some kind of look as though he couldn't quite will himself to control the way it trembled with adrenaline.
"Nice one, but you're not my type. " Another bite and a second of Billy looking absolutely befuddled as he tried to keep his voice down. His glare had weakened but only because he was taken off guard, and his cocky expression fell to a tight line.
You watched as he took a moment to look around the empty street. The lights weren't too bright so you couldn't make out that typical, telltale flush of his skin that you've grown accustomed to in his anger.
Your eyes flickered across his face, scanning every inch like a beacon. Curiously, you looked at him the same way he always did. Maybe you'd find some sort of answer hidden somewhere behind his icy blues.
The look on his face was strange. Pensive.
"Get up, Y/N. " An even voice this time. Calming maybe. And to think, all it took was a slightly gay comment in order to simmer the violent bastard.
You half wondered where the fag-bashing erratic moron went. Maybe he'd packed his bags and runaway. You could hope.
You did more than that infact, you put that right there on your bucket list, and with a frown, more for yourself than anything else, you looked away from the boy above you.
"Fine. Alright. " Your movements were stiff with pain as you moved to push yourself up by the palms of your hand, your arms trembling beneath the weight. The skin on your hand and forearm burned with a stinging sensation.
Billy watched at your pathetic attempts, a sneer or two on his face but he didn't seem to offer much help until it'd all get too pathetic and he had to reach out and aid you.
"Idiot. " His lip curled as his palm met yours, his fingers holding onto the back of your hand tight as possible.
You stumbled slightly upon becoming fully upright, teetering against Billy for a moment as you took a minute to regain your ground.
"Yeah, well whose fucking fault is that. " You've developed a lovely habit of hissing through your teeth with an unnecessary amount of spite. You're surprised Billy hasn't knocked you on your ass and left you for dead by now.
He scoffs, trying to put as much distance between the two of you while still having your arm linked through his, helping you along. To the ignorant eye, you suppose this would look platonic enough but anyone that knew the two of you well would certainly think otherwise.
Billy's all rigid limbs and stunted movements. Even when you'd finally started to walk on your own and your grip on his arm began to slack, he held firm with a grip like a vise.
And by the time you're at the passenger's side, he's shoving you into the seat and you nearly knock your head on the top of car.
You didn't bother giving a remark when he practically seethed through his teeth, slamming the door in your face. He strode around the car like a man on a mission.
"If you go more than 5 over the speed limit—" You felt the warning die on your tongue when you saw the look of pure anger etched onto Billy's face.
"You'll jump out. Yeah. " His hand came down on the shifter. "Got it. "
There was a part of your brain that you didn't recognize that was screaming in terror, completely and totally convinced you were going to die tonight at the hands of the ever brooding Billy Hargrove.
But much to your surprise, Billy maintains that 5 mile leway the entire drive home even when there's barely a car in the streets. He hadn't muttered a single word since throwing his angry body in the driver's seat.
Instead, he'd cranked up the music all the way as if it'd some how compensate for the lack of speed and conversation, not that there would be much to say anyway.
You hadn't bothered looking at him. He hadn't bothered looking at you. But somehow, in one way or another, the feeling as if you were watching each other was even more abundant in the silence.
Whatever hostility had remained from Billy's mood in the first half of the night had receded back into his depths for later. Though the occasional frown on his face never quite leaves no matter what, his eyes are softer now.
And by the time he's pulling into the dirt driveway of your home, the soft beams of amber and yellow from the streetlights dimly hitting half his face, there's no sign of anger or any real semblance of emotion. It's oddly quiet, and the only thing to really speak up was the steady rumble of the engine.
"Thanks. " You beckon quickly and with reluctantance as you awkwardly grabbed at the door handle, trying to turn as quickly as you could while still maintaining balance. Anything just to get out of his car and away from the guy.
"Y/N. " He voices and the moment you pull at the handle you come to find it's resistance. A dull tingle shoots up your spine and the hair on the back of your neck raises with tension.
You turn, facing the teen who kept an unconcerned façade. He was a calm still pond with blue eyes flickering like small waves in the face of a strong wind, and although most times they were ice and snow that held such a cold, unforgiving passion of arrogance, there were times they were the ripples of a breeze.
Now was one of those times.
"Don't go around pulling fucking stunts like that. "
That was definitely closer to a warning than anything else that had come from his lips the entirety of the night.
"This is coming from the guy who beat my ass into the concrete two months ago. " And at this point, you were too exhausted to be filled with spite for the boy.
His posture falters and not just figuratively. There's a shift to the way he's sitting but the flicker of his eyes remains. Even with you half turned, his stare remained. In fact, it seems to have gotten all the more intense.
"What's it to you anyway? " The way he tilted his head might have been endearing in another life. Now, it seemed to hold meaning, the way a predator stalks its prey with such observant behavior before sinking its teeth into its jugular.
His gaze on you could have bored into your brain, much like a drill for how quick your defenses seemed to start dissolving.
He'd always looked at you like this. Whether or not you caught his eyes on you was by chance.
In class, in the halls, it was all the same to him. He'd get one look and that was about all it took. He'd stare with the attention like an interrogation, as if trying to decode some secret behind your stature, trying to pick you apart bit by bit with those watchful baby blue's of his. And if there was no easy route to doing that he'd dig his little meat hooks into you until there was.
You were all he'd focus on. Not you in particular. More so the idea of you.
Whatever that meant.
Of course the only instance Billy looked at you without fail, hard looked at you like the blue was about to spill out of his eyes and swallow you up like a tsunami, was when he was a little tipsy or riled up with heat and fury. But like most of Billy's emotions, they were very intense. Too intense for something as simple as just a fucking stare. It almost gave you the illusion of a dangerous threat that made your skin buzz with goosebumps, your nerves rattling in their sockets.
He was doing the same now, except, the only difference was that he wasn't pissed faced or smoldering with alcohol this time. In the confines of his car, beneath the yellow white shine of the nearby street lights, he couldn't tear his gaze away even if you begged.
Billy was the sort of thing to stop you mid thought when you glance and feel your limbs freeze, suddenly petrified with all this uneasiness and sudden confusion as to why there was only one sort of definition to put on why you felt such things whenever his presence was met with a hundred paces of distance.
"I..." He starts but his voice falls flat. Something beyond frustration, something between anger and concern. The sort of look that told you he was working something out in his mind. Or he just couldn't find the proper word choice that didn't end in an f-bomb at the end of his sentence.
He's still staring, his eyes flickering back and forth between yours, like a candle wick in the night. Wavering. Stuttering. Inconsistent uncertainty.
Like he's just asking for guidance to fill his barren vocabulary, the words never existing like an undiscovered civilization in his brain, unable to conjure up the sort of speech that would get him what he wanted.
An abrupt sense of panic washed over you. You inhaled sharply and you didn't let the breath go until your next move was placed in front of you like a chess piece on the board and you couldn't take the time to think out any future moves on your part.
All of your attention was pulled to him, focused entirely. The way he moved, the way he breathed, it left a tingling feeling trailing behind him like some faint breeze of emotion.
Everything stilled, it was him and you. Him. And you.
And he's just looking at you like that. Mouth halfway opened and the noise of shallow heavy breaths were the only sounds falling from his lips while he's looking at you all wide-eyed, like some fresh-faced virgin whose never seen one in person before.
You cursed yourself. Cursed the wind. Cursed the ground. Cursed Billy and his stupid face. And every corner of his stupid car and everything else about him. You can curse the sun but that'd probably be a step too far. Especially the moment you met those watchful pools of sea foam.
Fucking Billy Hargrove and his stupid, fucking car and his even more stupid...
Lips.
Lips and teeth.
Teeth, pale pink lips.
Blue eyes, long lashes.
Stupid fucking curly hair.
The sort of curly where it always managed to get you by the tips, tangling its brambles in your fingers and refusing to let go.
Which is why the second Billy made a small noise– not even really a noise, it's a breath. A single exhale that hits your nose, hits you the way nothing has before, and it causes a wave of heat to wash over you, overtaking your senses.
You grab those curls, your fingers entwine them and his breath is alot heavier, alot hotter as his hands grip tightly onto your shirt, like he's a frightened child.
His lips are wet.
He's messy.
Sloppy.
Like he's never kissed before in his life. Lips that keep moving, and his tongue is too sensitive, too eager.
Every sharp inhale of breath reeks of sweat and chlorine.
There's no time to stop and make sense of the situation.
He's scrambling over the middle console, desperate hands gripping on your collar and in any other scenario, this would've been the step before he plummeted his fist into your face. But there's hardly anything suggesting that. At least not without the time to see the tiny trail of tears lining Billy's eyes, glossing his cheeks.
He tastes as he looks. Like liquid gold with his tongue rubbing against yours in a hot mass of burning motion. And any semblance of a rational train of thought was chucked out the window.
There was enough room in the front seat for a teenage boy and then some. Billy Hargrove was not such a teenage boy. There was barely enough room to shift and breathe and wriggle around in this half straddle.
You can faintly hear a heavy car pass over a mound in the road, an off balance tire or perhaps someone forgot to inflate it and the uneven troll on the road, not entirely deafening, but it's there. And Billy hears it and he jumps from you, leg grazing the shifter, head knocking into the top of the roof.
His ears are steaming red as he all but falls into the driver's seat, face flustered and hair slightly disheveled.
He's looking around like a wild animal caught in a trap and he can't escape, eyes flickering back and forth; from the gearshift all the way to the rear view mirror and then to your face.
Pupils shot open, dark and wide, and a hand coming up to press on his forehead, eyes squinting.
"Billy‐ " It's a start, but it doesn't stay long enough to be deemed a full sentence, not with his name lingering on your lips while you try to swallow down the heat in the pit of your stomach. Billy's looking at you, breathing heavy.
"Get out. " He mutters forcefully, the lock clicks open and when his hand comes up to rub across his face, it's shaking.
"Billy. " More insistent this time.
He looks a few shades redder than when he was before, his head snaps back to meet your stare, hair curling beneath his ears in a gentle mess, curls threatening to fall into his face.
"Get out!" His voice pitches, breaks into something close to a sob and Billy swings his arm wildly, fist connecting with the steering wheel and there's a loud honk as a warning before he shouts again. "Get the fuck out, you fucking faggot!" His voice reverberates across the entire neighborhood, shattering your ear drums in the process.
There's dogs barking from far away, probably due to the horn.
You hesitated but only for a moment before swinging the door open, just barely missing the opportunity to knock the shit out of your leg by the time Billy decided to slam down his foot on the pedal. The door shuts fast. The car speeds off before it has the chance.
You watched him drive away, with just as much intensity as the boy inside the car watched you in the rearview.
As your house began to shrink away into the distance, and the glare of the car grew smaller and smaller. You could hardly see those searing blue eyes the way you did in class. Though this time, instead of a look of hatred or scorn, it was one of fear and dread.
And maybe, just maybe, if there were more light shining on his face, it would reflect a thousand scenarios playing on his cheeks. Not that you would've been able to tell from all the way out here.
"Fuck. "
#stranger things#billy hargrove x male reader#billy hargrove#billy hargove x reader#will byers#jonathan byers#nancy wheeler#mike wheeler#max mayfeild#dustin henderson#angst#billy hargrove is gay
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