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marsdql · 1 day ago

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𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝔂 𝓶𝓪𝓭 𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 :‹

Pairing: Boyfriend!Heeseung × girlfriend!fem!reader

Synopsis: Another heated argument with you and your boyfriend Heeseung, making it your last straw. You thought it was the end for a while after leaving, until one day..

Genre/warnings: angst to fluff, toxic relationship, a lot of back and forth, idk ok.. | wc: 2k

𝙈𝙖𝙧’𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: This has been in my drafts for a while so I had to let it out. I’ve been writing SOOO MUCH HEESEUNG FICS ITS CRAZY omg. I promise diff are coming I’m js so brain dead on what to write and I don’t get requests..😁 Jake ff coming out Friday nov15 for his birthday tho!! anyway go enjoy :>

The argument started innocently enough. You were waiting for Heeseung at a party you’d been planning to attend together, but he never showed. You called, texted, and waited for hours, but he never responded. When you finally got home and found him there, acting as if nothing had happened, something inside you snapped.

“What’s wrong with you?” you demanded, slamming the door behind you. “I waited for you all night, Hee! Do you know how embarrassing it was, standing there by myself while everyone kept asking where you were?”

He looked up from his phone, barely acknowledging your presence. “I told you I wasn’t sure if I could make it.”

“You told me you wanted to be there,” you shot back, anger rising in your chest. “But you didn’t even call, Heeseung! You just left me there, like I didn’t matter at all.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips. “Why are you making this such a big deal? It was just one night.”

“Because this isn’t the first time!” Your voice shook as you threw your bag onto the couch, barely able to contain your frustration. “You keep doing this—promising me you’ll show up, then bailing like it’s nothing. Do you even care about this relationship anymore?”

“Here we go again,” he muttered under his breath, but loud enough for you to hear. “You’re always turning everything into a personal attack.”

You clenched your fists, trying to hold back tears of frustration. “Maybe if you actually made an effort, I wouldn’t feel like I have to ‘attack’ you. I’m so tired of being the only one fighting to keep us together.”

Heeseung scoffed, throwing his phone down on the table. “Oh, please. Don’t act like you’re some saint here. You’re always complaining, always finding something wrong with what I do or don’t do. It’s exhausting.”

“Exhausting?” The word stung, and you felt a pang of anger so sharp it made you shake. “So you’re saying I’m exhausting?”

“Yeah, maybe you are,” he snapped, meeting your gaze with a hard look you’d never seen from him before. “Maybe this whole thing is just… too much. You’re always so needy, always wanting more. Maybe I can’t give you what you want.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, the words hitting harder than he knew. “Needy?” you repeated, voice trembling. “I don’t think it’s needy to want the person I love to actually show up for me. But maybe you’re right—maybe I’m asking too much from someone who clearly doesn’t care.”

“Oh, don’t twist this around like I don’t care,” he shot back. “I have my own life, my own problems. Everything doesn’t revolve around you.”

“That’s not fair, and you know it,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “You’re the one who’s been pulling away, Heeseung. You’re the one who’s been acting like I’m some burden you have to carry. I’m just asking you to meet me halfway, but you can’t even do that, can you?”

Heeseung’s expression hardened, and for a moment, you saw something cold flicker in his eyes. “Maybe I don’t want to meet you halfway,” he said, each word cutting deeper than the last. “Maybe I’m tired of pretending like this is something it’s not.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart sinking as his words settled over you. “So… what, then? You’re tired of me?”

“Maybe I am,” he said, his tone bitter. “Maybe I’m tired of constantly being made to feel like I’m not enough, like no matter what I do, it’s never good enough for you.”

You felt your chest tighten, a tear slipping down your cheek despite your efforts to hold it back. “I just wanted you to try, Heeseung. To actually care enough to make an effort.”

“And I just wanted you to stop making me feel like a failure,” he shot back, his voice raising. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to constantly feel like you’re not measuring up? You keep pushing and pushing, and it’s like nothing I do will ever be enough for you.”

“Then why didn’t you say that?” you yelled, feeling your anger and heartbreak twisting together into something raw and painful. “Why did you let me keep believing that you wanted this, that you wanted us?”

“Because I thought I did,” he said, voice cracking as he looked away. “But lately… I don’t know. Maybe we’ve both just been holding on to something that isn’t there anymore.”

His words shattered something deep inside you, a pain so intense it felt almost physical. You took a shaky breath, struggling to find the right words. “So that’s it?” you whispered. “You’re just… giving up?”

Heeseung’s gaze softened, but he didn’t move toward you. “I’m just… tired of hurting you,” he said quietly. “And tired of feeling like I’m the problem. I can’t keep doing this.”

You looked away, unable to bear the sight of him standing there, so calm, as if he hadn’t just destroyed everything you’d built together. “Fine,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out. “If that’s how you feel… then maybe we shouldn’t keep doing this.”

For a moment, you thought he might say something, that he might reach out, try to fix the damage that had been done. But he didn’t move, didn’t say a word, just watched as you picked up your things and turned toward the door.

“Goodbye, Heeseung,” you said, your voice barely audible as you walked away, each step feeling heavier than the last.

As you closed the door behind you, you realized that you had been holding on to a version of him that no longer existed, a love that had withered in the space between unmet expectations and unspoken resentments. And the realization hurt more than anything he could have said, because now you knew that sometimes love simply isn’t enough.

Weeks had passed since that night, but the pain still sat heavy in your chest, a constant reminder of the words you both threw like daggers. You had told yourself it would get easier—that eventually, you’d stop replaying the fight over and over, picking apart every sentence, wondering if you could have said or done something differently.

But every time you closed your eyes, you could still see him standing there, looking at you with that mixture of anger and something else—something you couldn’t name.

Tonight, you found yourself sitting in a quiet café, stirring a mug of coffee you hadn’t touched. You’d come here hoping the change of scenery would help, but all it did was bring memories crashing back, drowning you in thoughts you had been trying so hard to escape. And then, as if fate had a cruel sense of humor, the doorbell chimed, and there he was.

Heeseung.

He hadn’t seen you yet, and you almost turned away, almost gathered your things to leave before he noticed. But some part of you—maybe it was the part that hadn’t stopped missing him, the part that still ached for him despite everything—stayed rooted in place.

As if sensing your presence, Heeseung looked up, his eyes widening slightly when they met yours. For a moment, neither of you moved, both frozen in the shared silence. Finally, he took a breath and walked over, his steps hesitant, as if he, too, was unsure of how this would go.

“Hey,” he said, his voice softer than you remembered, almost as if he were afraid of breaking something fragile.

“Hi,” you replied, your own voice barely above a whisper.

He sat down across from you, and for a moment, the two of you just sat in silence, both unsure of where to start. The tension was thick, memories of the fight still hanging heavily between you.

“I… I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

“I didn’t expect to see you, either,” you replied, your tone guarded.

Heeseung looked down at the table, then back up at you, his eyes searching yours. “I’ve been thinking about… that night. About the things we both said.”

A lump formed in your throat, and you swallowed hard, nodding slightly. “Me too,” you admitted, voice trembling.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said, his gaze never leaving yours. “I know that’s probably hard to believe after everything, but… I never wanted things to end up like that.”

“Then why did you let it get to that point?” you whispered, the hurt and confusion you’d been carrying pouring out before you could stop it. “Why didn’t you just talk to me, Heeseung? Why did you make me feel like I was the problem?”

He sighed, looking down at his hands. “Because… because I didn’t know how to tell you that I was struggling. I thought I was supposed to handle everything on my own, and I didn’t want to burden you with my issues. But in trying to protect you, I pushed you away, and that’s on me.”

His admission cracked something open inside you, and you felt a surge of conflicting emotions—relief, sadness, anger. “I would’ve been there for you, Heeseung. All I wanted was to be there for you.”

“I know,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I realize that now. I just… I guess I was scared. Scared of being vulnerable. Scared of letting you see the parts of me that I’ve always tried to hide.”

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, but you didn’t bother to wipe it away. “You didn’t have to be perfect for me, Heeseung. I never wanted that. I just wanted you.”

He reached out hesitantly, his hand hovering over yours, and for a moment, you thought he might pull back. But then, slowly, he took your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours, warm and familiar.

“I don’t know if I can fix what I broke,” he said quietly, his eyes full of regret. “But… if there’s still a part of you that wants to try, I’d do anything to make it right.”

You looked down at his hand, the memories of all the times you’d held each other, all the promises you’d once shared. Part of you wanted to say yes, to let yourself fall back into the warmth of him, to believe that maybe, just maybe, things could be different this time.

But another part of you remembered the pain—the nights spent wondering if you were enough, the feeling of constantly fighting to hold onto someone who kept slipping away.

“I don’t know if I can trust you again, Heeseung,” you said, voice breaking. “You hurt me so much. I don’t know if I can go through that again.”

His grip on your hand tightened slightly, desperation flashing in his eyes. “I know I messed up, and I know it might take a long time to earn back your trust. But if there’s even the smallest part of you that thinks we could make this work… I promise I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Silence settled between you, thick with emotion, as you weighed his words. You knew that forgiveness wouldn’t come easily, that the scars from that night would always be there, etched into your heart. But looking at him now, at the vulnerability in his eyes, you saw a glimpse of the Heeseung you’d fallen in love with—the one who had once made you feel like you were his whole world.

Taking a shaky breath, you met his gaze. “If we do this… it can’t be like before. We both have to be honest with each other, even when it’s hard. No more hiding, no more pretending.”

He nodded, a look of relief washing over his face. “I promise,” he said, his voice full of conviction. “No more hiding.”

Slowly, cautiously, you let yourself smile, a small glimmer of hope flickering in your chest. It would be a long road, full of challenges and doubts, but for the first time in a long time, you felt like maybe, just maybe, you could find your way back to each other.

And this time, you’d fight for each other—together.

Reblogs and feedback appreciated, thank u ! DIVIDER CREDITS: @anitalenia

[ marsdql ]

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joequiinn · 3 days ago

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The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | epilogue

[chap seventeen] | [all chapters here]

Story Summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

notes & tropes: fem reader, slooow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, dysfunctional family dynamics, idiots-to-lovers, smut & nsfw themes

a/n: Well, we've finally made it, everyone, and I'm feeling emotional about it. This epilogue is just a lil something I thought up while I was considering what the future would hold for Eddie and ice princess, and I love it dearly.

wc: 3.2k

Epilogue

September 1985

I want to be somewhere big and interesting. New York, L.A.… fuck, even Florida for all I care, I just want out of Hawkins, out of this town.” “Then I guess we’ll be those high school sweethearts that run off to L.A. together after graduation, huh?” “Oh, I’m sure.”

September 1987

Eddie should’ve been home by now. You’d memorized his work schedule within his first week of starting at VIP Records, so you knew his shift always ended at 6pm on Tuesdays - so where the hell was he? It was nearly 8:30, and you’d been getting more and more antsy as the minutes ticked by, worrying over what could possibly be delaying him like this.

So much had happened in the two years since you and Eddie began dating back in Hawkins - your world had changed so much that sometimes you felt like a completely different person. It started with some big things, like reintroducing Eddie to your parents and begging them to start fresh with him - though your father resolved to never show any warmth to your boyfriend, at least your mother was kinder.

You decide that you wouldn’t be going to college following graduation, instead wanting to take a year to work, which was yet another thing your father didn’t warm to. Somewhere amidst that decision and the subsequent string of arguments that followed, you found yourself spending more nights with Eddie and Wayne than you did with your own parents, until one day you realized you had informally moved into the Munson home. So, by the end of summer ‘86, you were out of your parents’ house and working full-time to save up for whatever may come next (and to pay rent, despite Wayne’s insistence that it was entirely unnecessary).

You weren’t sure who proposed the idea first, but you and Eddie had decided one day that you were going to move out to California. Initially, this was just some fantasy for the two of you, something to give you hope that you’d hightail it out of Hawkins one day, but over time that fantasy started to look more and more real until finally you agreed that maybe the idea wasn’t half bad at all.

So, you began to set aside more cash, began to look into neighborhoods and cities around Los Angeles, began to tell everyone that the two of you would be leaving town soon enough. No one really believed you at first - all your friends were in support of the idea, but they didn’t think it was particularly realistic. And when you mentioned it on one of the very rare occasions you saw your parents anymore, your father had the gall to laugh right in your face. That, of course, only bolstered your resolve to get the hell out of Indiana, and a lot of your freetime was slowly consumed with library visits to figure out how exactly to make this move happen.

You and Eddie finally made the leap a few months back, spending a couple weeks road tripping your way across the country, finally arriving in Los Angeles with only your most important earthly belongings and little else. Leaving Hawkins had been harder than you expected - leaving Wayne being the hardest - but you found California to be utterly refreshing, to fit you almost like a glove.

After living out of a hotel for a while, you found this cozy little apartment down in Long Beach, and you’d been content ever since; sure, it wasn’t perfect and the neighborhood wasn’t impressive, but it was your space, and that made it just right for you and Eddie. You both got jobs to hold you over for a while, you started visiting bars and venues, hell, you even found a stray cat that you quickly adopted without a second thought.

You’d been leaving the dollar theater after seeing a re-release of Labyrinth when the little calico found you - something about the film, and David Bowie, had totally mesmerized you when it came out the year prior, and Eddie was happy to take you to the special showing that night. So, when this cat approached you curiously and began weaving playfully between Eddie’s ankles, you were both immediately smitten. You named the cat Sir Didymus only to discover it was female a few weeks later, but it suited her rascally personality just fine, and thus her name stuck.

And now here you were, five months into your new California life and driving yourself crazy over where the hell Eddie was and why he was late to return home.

You called the record store and asked if maybe he was working late and forgot to mention it, but his coworker informed you that Eddie clocked out right on schedule; he mentioned that Eddie seemed eager to leave, but didn’t have any further information for you. On the one hand, it made you worry that something had happened, but on the other, you were annoyed that he had possibly made plans without telling you, as unlikely as that may be.

You’d tried to think of all the places in town that he could have gone to, but nothing seemed particularly viable - he wouldn’t have gone to a show without you, wouldn’t have gone to the store without you, wouldn’t have gone anywhere without you. Not unless he was keeping some kind of secret, but you couldn’t fathom what that might be.

Considering that today was your birthday, you had originally thought maybe he was making a special stop to get you flowers or a cake or a last minute gift; it was so like Eddie to do that, even after you insisted he didn’t need to get you anything at all. But once 7 o’clock hit, and then 7:30, and then 8pm, you began to doubt this original line of thought and assume the worst instead.

Decidedly, a few minutes past 8, you’d thrown on one of Eddie’s sweaters and your shoes, and made the short trek down to the convenience store on the corner - the two of you were in there practically every day, so maybe one of the employees had seen him. The familiar night clerks greeted you, but when you asked about Eddie’s whereabouts, they didn’t have a clue, which made your worries grow even more. As if to put your mind at ease, they gave you a free 6-pack and said they’d call you if they saw him.

You returned back to the apartment to Sir Didymus crying for dinner, which made you realize you forgot to set out food for her earlier. Cursing to yourself, you filled her bowl and began to pace nervously, trying to consider where the hell Eddie could be. Did you forget about a show that he had previously mentioned? Or was he hit by a fucking truck? Maybe he got caught up chatting with a customer like he was one to do, or maybe he got fucking mugged. All possibilities were on the table, and you hated each and every one of them for causing you such worry and distress.

Prying open a window, you crawled onto the fire escape and lit a cigarette, hands shaky with anxiety as you pressed it to your lips. The night was relatively quiet for your neighborhood, which wasn’t saying much - there were always cars cruising up and down the road, music blasting from a nearby bar, and people constantly arguing in alleyways and backyards. But the noise was soothing in its way, reminding you that the world was constantly in motion and that Eddie was probably just caught up in it all.

Sir Didymus came to sit beside you, meowing as if she, too, was wondering where the hell Eddie was and why he wasn’t back home. You considered throwing on some clothes to go searching for him, but aside from the bar and the convenience store, there was nowhere in the area that he would be; moments like these made you wish you two hadn’t sold your car, because it would’ve been really convenient to have right about now.

Each time you heard tires screeching or saw headlights shining down the road, you craned your neck to get a better look, but it was never Eddie. You’d already nervously polished off two cigarettes and were lighting up a third; Sir Didymus had retired to sleeping on the pile of blankets that she commandeered within a few days of moving in.

As you were caught up in your anxious thoughts, you thought you’d heard metal music from somewhere nearby, muffled and far off, but it caused your ears to perk; when you realized that it was specifically a Dio song playing, you immediately shot to your feet, clambering back through the window while dropping your cigarette into the ashtray.

Without bothering to slip on shoes, you rushed out onto the breezeway connecting all the little apartments in your complex, gripping the rails as you tried to find the source of the music, which was obviously louder from this side of the building. The street in front of your complex was crowded with cars, so if the music was Eddie’s, he must have had to park way down the block; eventually, the music stopped, and you became more anxious by the second.

When finally you spotted Eddie walking up the sidewalk towards the gate, you all but rushed down the stairs to meet him halfway; Eddie smiled largely, clearly not able to make out your concern under the flickering lights illuminating the path. A glare grew in your eyes as you realized he looked just fine; in fact, it seemed he stopped by the store, if the grocery bag in his hand was anything to go on. He held up his arms to greet you, but before he could get a word out, you hissed while jabbing him in the chest.

“Where the hell have you been?” Your eyes were alight with panicked concern, and you didn’t realize until that moment that you were on the verge of relieved tears. You swallowed, determined to hold them back, “It’s almost 9 o’clock, Eddie, I was worried out of my fucking mind.”

Eddie’s face fell, arms drooping at his sides; he didn’t expect you to have gotten so worked up over him not returning on time. He thought he could surprise you, that he could do something nice for your birthday, but the utter panic in your expression told him otherwise. He dipped his head down towards yours, hoping that he could sooth all the stress that had bubbled up inside you.

“I should’ve called--”

“No shit.”

Eddie clenched his jaw a little, taking a breath - he wasn’t about to get upset with you, he wouldn’t let himself, “Let’s go upstairs, okay?”

The impulsive side of you wanted to argue with him right here and now, wanted to grill him about why he didn’t come home and what he was doing. The more patient part of you, however, held back, shaky breaths heaving in your chest as you nodded with a twisted expression. You spun around on your heels and marched up the stairs, crossing your arms with a scowl; Sir Didymus sat just outside your open door, curiously waiting for you both.

Following just a step behind you, Eddie sighed to himself as he took in your rigid posture, realizing that he should’ve thought this through - after all, since your move to Long Beach, the two of you were essentially attached at the hip, doing absolutely any and everything together. Of course you would worry when he didn’t come home, when he didn’t call or give you a heads up - but, again, he’d just been hoping to surprise you, and hadn’t considered that a few hours would get you as stressed as you were now.

Back in the apartment, you took large strides towards the open window and retrieved your cigarette from the ashtray. To calm yourself down, you began to pace, watching as Eddie closed the door behind him and waited there a moment as if to collect his thoughts; when he turned to face you, you quickly looked away and took a deep drag.

“God, Eddie, I’m trying not to be mad, okay, I was just so worried and I thought maybe there was something you were keeping from me or that maybe you were in an accident or even dead in a fucking ditch, and I know it’s ridiculous to get so worked up over only a few hours but--”

“You can be mad.” He interrupted the inevitable rambling that was about to commence.

You had always struggled to express emotions considering the household you grew up in, so these past two years with Eddie had been a learning experience for you, which led to your feelings often spilling over when they became overwhelming. You shot him a confused look, still struggling to this day with the idea that it was okay to feel something; you bit your tongue so that you wouldn’t keep babbling, trying to collect your thoughts.

“I should’ve told you where I was,” Eddie started, walking the short distance from the front door to the kitchen, gently dropping the grocery bag atop the counter, “but I wanted to surprise you.”

You laughed smally, feeling stupid for getting so worried over seemingly nothing. Shaking your head, you took a deep drag from the cigarette and turned to face the window, eyes unfocused as you looked around. You dropped your head, beginning to feel more and more stupid the more that you thought about it; you could hear Eddie coming up slowly behind you.

“Get out of your head,” He instructed gently, to which you laughed again, “You’re probably already kicking yourself, am I right? As if you did something wrong?”

You narrowed your eyes at his reflection in the window - fuck, he knew you too well. Slowly, you turned to face him again, but you kept your gaze on the floor. Eddie took another couple steps closer, waiting for you to eventually look up at him.

“I’m sorry, princess.” He said simply, and the pet name nearly caused you to smile fondly; even after all this time, it stuck, and you figured it wasn’t going anywhere. You could tell in his voice that Eddie saw you resisting to grin, “I should’ve called, I just got caught up in the surprise.”

The corner of your mouth pulled up, and you looked at Eddie carefully through your lashes; his smile was gentle and sweet, eyes far more adoring than you thought you really deserved. Swallowing your trepidation, you asked smally, “What surprise?”

Eddie’s smile grew larger as he cocked his head, “Your dual birthday-anniversary surprise.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, relief slowly relaxing your shoulders as you took a final small inhale of the cigarette before tossing it out the window, “My birthday is not our real anniversary and you know it.”

You smiled fondly at the memory of meeting each other at that picnic table behind the football field, at the crazy fake dating scheme you had that ultimately led you to where you were now. It felt like a lifetime again that senior year happened, and yet it still felt as if it was only yesterday.

“So maybe we have two anniversaries.” Eddie teased fondly, his eyes taking you in as if you were still a breath of fresh air to him. Under those soft, adoring eyes, you could feel your ears growing hot even still.

You sighed affectionately with a shake of your head, crossing your arms as a gust of wind came up through the window; being near the beach, the air was always unexpectedly cold at night. As you took in the always pleasant sight of Eddie, you realized he had a bandage just above his collarbone, which caused your brow to furrow with concern as you looked between it and his face.

“What happened?” You asked, closing the gap between you two so you could worry over whatever the hell was on his neck; you wondered if maybe he nicked himself shaving, but the bandage seemed far too large for that. Did he hurt himself at work?

As you reached for the bandage, Eddie laughed, capturing your wrists in his hands before you could touch his neck. You met his eyes with confusion, to which he simply shook his head.

“That’s the surprise.”

Your expression deadpanned, “You getting hurt is the surprise? Geez, babe, how romantic.”

Eddie laughed again, fondly rolling his eyes, “Not hurt in the way that you think.”

Clearly enjoying your confusion, Eddie released your grip and reached for the bandage, hissing a little as he tried to gently peel it off. Your jaw dropped in both surprise and confusion at the injury beneath it, not prepared for what it would be.

It was a tattoo, though that wasn’t the surprising part, considering that Eddie was slowly becoming covered in them. No, what took you aback was that the tattoo was quite clearly your lips, done in a shade almost identical to the lipstick color you’d been trying just the day before. You stared dumbly at it, as if you couldn’t quite compute it, as if you didn’t quite think it was real.

When you finally managed to draw your gaze back up to Eddie’s face, he was smiling from ear-to-ear, eyes twinkling with clear delight at your stunned expression. You opened and closed your mouth a couple of times as you tried to find your voice again, eyes rapidly looking back and forth from the tattoo to his face and back again.

“You… got a tattoo for me?” Your tone was one of disbelief; saying it out loud made the moment more real, and suddenly your throat felt tight as if you could cry.

Eddie nodded with pride, “You like it?”

You stared at the replica of your lips, recalling the evening prior when you’d been testing out make-up samples that you’d gotten from work. Eddie always enjoyed watching you apply make-up, and of course lipstick was his favorite part; when he commented on a shade that he seemed particularly fond of, you leaned over and planted a loud, silly kiss at the base of his neck.

Considering that you crawled out of bed hours before him to get to your shift at the make-up counter, you didn’t see whether or not he’d ever cleaned the lipstick off; evidently, he must have worn it like a badge of pride all day until he could finally get down to the tattoo parlor and make it permanent.

Shaking yourself from your reverie, you looked at Eddie lovingly, your eyes a little more wet; god, you’d gotten so much more emotional since he entered your life, it was nearly ridiculous. Or maybe you’d just become more vulnerable, far less skilled at holding back when it was just the two of you alone.

You cupped his cheeks gently, being extra careful not to go near the fresh tattoo, “God, I love you.”

The smile he gave you was dazzling, mesmerizing even, “I love you, princess.”

You drew his lips down to yours, resting your forehead gently to his; Eddie hummed contently, whispering a tender “happy birthday” against your lips before kissing you fiercely.

addt. a/n: I'll try to keep this short and sweet. Thank you to everyone who has read this fic and watched it grow, to those that have been commenting and messaging with each update, and to all the incredibly fic writers I've met through this story! And, of course, a HUGE THANK YOU to my dear @eddiernunson for being so invested - you've helped me developed so many ideas, and it's truly warmed my heart to see someone else love the ice princess as much as I do <3 If anyone would like to be tagged in any future outings these two may have in store, please let me know!

@3rd-conchord @a-queen-blr @adelalaaa @adversary713 @avalon-wolf

@costellation-hunter @daisy-munson @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie

@dreamerjj @eddiernunson @feralgoblinbabe @frogtape @fromasgardandback

@fckyeahlames @graciehams @kellsck @kthomps914 @littlexdeaths

@lotrefcp @love-anonymous-writer @marrowfrog00 @maskofmirrors @mewchiili

@miaajaade @miss-celestial-being @mmmunson @moonisu @munsonssweets

@no-bueno-writer @nxrdamp @ollieolive @rach5ive @sapphire4082

@sav12321 @seatbacksandtraytables @sheneedsrocknroll92 @steeldaisies @stormgrl19

@teethvenom @tvserie-s-world @twihard28 @urlivingdeadgirl @v1per1ne

@wefracturedmotivation @welcometohellsock @whats-my-question @xxsxdghxstxx

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things #em

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blackknight-kai · 3 days ago

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Hello! I've been reading your works and I absolutely love it 💖💖 you're actually the first few people who got me into this fandom, and for that I'm eternally grateful ☺

As for the ask, is it ok if I ask general yan HCS of both monkeys? Maybe with fem reader? NSFW is fine. Thanks so much and have a good day! ❤

OOoOOooOOkay! So Ima give this my best shot! Keep in mind I do more ‘soft’ yandere mainly because I do like me a bit of romance with my darker stuff. I WILL add some darker things at the end though!! (I don’t delve into yan often so bare with me 🫶🫂 I’m learning)

Keep in mind before proceeding this isnt your typical HC everyone :)! It’s going to have some Non Con/stalking/whatever comes to my mind. I went with whatever direction my brain was going so I hope this came out okay!

Warning: Yandere ideas

Destined One

At first you didnt notice anything different about him compared to anyone else outside of the obvious physical traits and some personality traits. He’s reserved, quiet, and focused entirely on his goals. His determination and strength is something that awes you to this day. Something you do notice about him though is that hes observant. Always taking note of his surroundings and using his senses to keep himself aware of what going on. When you first started traveling with him he seemed to almost…ignore you a bit. As though you weren’t really a scratch on his so called journey and mission. But over time you start to notice him staring at you and watching you. It’s a little intense but you just chalk it up to him being him, maybe he’s curious about his companion finally?

- [ ] He hadnt really thought much of you when you first joined him. It honestly took him a bit of time to realize he’d grown a bit….attached to you. His eyes always following your every move and his ears always listening for you. Your scent? He has that memorized.

- [ ] DO is going to start off subtle about his attentions towards you. He’s not going to be rash, unless something pushes him to it.

- [ ] He’s ALWAYS watching you. Always knows where you are and what youre doing.

- [ ] His feelings for you go from zero to almost 100 - although he’s silent about it at first. You’re going to notice him staring or even sometimes getting things you needed for you before you even knew you needed it.

- [ ] DO doesnt do things in half measures. He’s focused. Which means once he’s turned his attentions on you, ALL of him is focused on you.

- [ ] DO knows it’s wrong, but cant stop himself from doing some of the more…inappropriate things with you. Such as watching you while you bathe or change.

- [ ] *Non Con - He’s going to end up touching you while you sleep. Be it an accident at first (yeah right) or he just doesn’t stop his urge to do so. But he’s going touch you because you’re too inviting to him. He won’t go so far as full on sex, but you will be caressed and eventually as he gains confidence you’ll find marks you’re not sure where they came from. He’s going to decide the very first night his hands slip under your clothes that you are his.

- [ ] No one else will EVER see you or touch you like he had. Ever.

- [ ] He’s going to be hyper attentive to you, lulling you into this sense of “Aw he cares for me and takes care of me”. While YES he does, it’s also to further his own goal in regards to you. The foods he brings? Not every time, but sometimes might have a little something in them that makes you a little…sleepy. Pliant. So he can run his hands under your clothes or leave little marks on you without you making a fuss. Your body will NOT be afraid of his touch, he’s going to make sure of it. Sex is still something he’s reserving for…claiming you fully. For now, he’s going to take his time getting your body just used to his hands and the way he makes you feel with them or his tail.

- [ ] He’s going to manhandle you, sit you where he wants you and if you fuss he’s stubborn and won’t budge about it, using his strength to hold you where he put you, to the point you let him have his way because it’s not worth arguing over.

- [ ] You dont realize it but he’s also been scenting the hell out of you, your clothes, and even your bed furs. To you, it just smells like a combination of you, the forest, and of him - which you dont think anything of because he carries stuff for you a lot.

- [ ] But him scenting that stuff? It’s a very loud claim especially since it’s not just him rubbing his face or neck on the items….no he’s rubbing those materials around his cock and balls. Getting his musk all over it.

- [ ] On you, he will be a bit more subtle with his scenting. Wrapping a tail around you or brushing his hand through your hair or against you as he walks by. But sometimes DO shoves his hand down his pants, coating his hand or even tail in his musk and then rubs it on you. You are HIS.

- [ ] He’s jealous as all hell too and will make it known by how he behaves towards others in regards to you. Does NOT like anyone even looking at you, it makes him want to carry you off to some makeshift nest and KEEP you there, to prevent wandering eyes.

- [ ] Speaking of, as soon as his journey ends thats exactly what he wants to do. If he doesnt have a place in mind he’s definitely going to make sure he finds one. It will be the nest for the two of you. He will make sure he gets you everything you need so you wont need to go out.

- [ ] Before that though, he’s going to do everything in his power to make sure you know that you’re his and he’s going to make sure you dont want anyone else.

- [ ] When his journey is over, immediately youre thrown over his shoulder. He’s carting you off to your permanent home, away from any dangers or the possibility of someone stealing you away from him.

- [ ] Here is where he’s a bit more…demanding and forceful. See, by this point he knows your body wants him, he’s smelled and felt how wet you get for his touch and he’s seen your eyes on him. You’ve been slowly pulled into his orbit once he has you in his chosen space he’s going to have all of you.

- [ ] He’s not going to just strip you and shove himself in, no. He still wants to make sure your body is willing. So he’s going to be more bold and more obvious about his touches.

- [ ] Bathing alone? Not anymore. Changing alone? Nope. Unless he’s gone doing something like gathering food or a quick patrol, your body is for his eyes. He will let you have some modesty but he’s going to slip his hands under your clothes when he pleases and feel your soft warm skin.

- [ ] You’re going to be awake when his tail or fingers forcefully slip between your legs, he’s going to pull orgasms out of you until your awake conscious learns to relax for his touch like your sleeping body and conscious do.

- [ ] You wont be allowed to leave, he will make sure a clone is around you at all times if he cant be and when youre sleeping he’s wrapped around you, his limbs like vices.

- [ ] Your skin will be marked with his bites and some claw marks, not deep enough to truly harm but enough to remind you of him when he’s out of sight.

- [ ] He will slowly get you addicted to his taste as well, slipping a pre or cum coated finger into your mouth as you orgasm so your brain learns that his taste means pleasure.

- [ ] When he takes you he’s going to be gentle but firm, he wants you to feel good but also wont let you resist him. He’s CLAIMING you now. His fangs will bite into you, this time with the purpose to scar his claim on you.

- [ ] After this, he’s going to make sure youre always ready for him, is not above using a clone to keep you spread open and wet for him via cock warming or a prefucking. You will be molded to the shape of his cock.

- [ ] He’s also going to slip inside you when you sleep, waking you as he ruts into you or touches your body.

- [ ] Your body WILL know that his touch means pleasure, but if you resist he’s going to make sure you remember your place. He will be rougher with you. Wanting you to submit.

- [ ] He will always pamper you after, cuddling you and cleaning you. But his cum will remain inside you until he’s ready to help you wash it out.

- [ ] He’s going to make sure you are so reliant on him, his touch, his presence, and all he does for you that you wont remember that his possessiveness isnt normal, that he’d stolen you away without asking and that he continues to lay his claim on you.

- [ ] No, youre lulled into a sense of belonging with him….youre his to care for, protect, and take.

- [ ] All in all and in general, Destined One is a quiet but firm yandere lover. Only when you really push back/push his dominance does he get too harsh with you. Depending on WHEN he finds you will depend on how quickly he steals you away. But he’s going to take care of you, you are HIS mate and mates are to be cared for, protected. He knows it’s not exactly normal to keep you the way he does, but something in him wont allow for you to even have the possibility to consider someone else. He’s going to show you that HE is the best for you. That HE knows the best for you. He may be jealous and possessive but he wont harm you so much so that you would be repulsed by his touch. No, he wants you pliant and giving in when he reaches for you, relaxing in his embrace or even seeking his touch out. If you take your pleasure with out him, he’s not going to let you sleep, it will get to the point you will end up passing out and he will keep going. He’s going to take you again when you wake. Your pleasure is for him to take and give.

Wukong:

Wukong is…very friendly to you. He also is a very good, if sometimes annoying, traveling companion or protector. So you really don’t notice anything out of the ordinary with him in the beginning. By the time you do it’s honestly too late for you. He’s lulled you into his intricate web and there’s no escape from him. Because he’s had his eyes on you and what Wukong wants, Wukong gets. He also knows there is no one else better than him for you.

- [ ] He knows almost immediately after meeting you that he wants you. It’s not a normal ‘want’ either. It’s the kind of greed he that claws at him from the inside desperate to get out and get a hold of you.

- [ ] Wukong will temper SOME of his more…greedy tendencies down. At first. But he has a way about him that is very demanding and commanding. Being the King and powerful being he is.

- [ ] He has a way of making you feel comfortable around him, as though you belong by his side. He’s going to make sure you see HIM as your protector and someone to go to for help or anything you need.

- [ ] Wukong will be outright flirtatious with you, but he wont be overtly forceful with his touches right away. He wants to get you warmed up to him and used to his ‘casual’ touches. Something he does NOT do for others but you dont need to know that.

- [ ] He definitely disguises himself when you go bathing, be it a fish in the water or a bug flying about. He wants his eyes on you at all times. Yes, this means he may brush against you often while in his forms of trickery.

- [ ] Would absolutely disguise himself as a woman in a bathhouse if you went to one and offer to help you bathe. (He will fish for compliments about himself if you mention him traveling with you)

- [ ] Wukong is going to be manipulative in a way you dont even realize. He’s mouthy and cunning so he’s going to use his words to steer you in whatever direction he wants things to go in.

- [ ] He’s also very opinionated and stubborn, sometimes using that to his advantage to get you to submit to him with some kind of benefit after, be it something he gets for you or he’s just all around more pleasant. He’s subtle about it all at first.

- [ ] Everything will be orchestrated to his needs/wants even if it LOOKS like it’s yours, because in his mind he knows what’s best FOR you.

- [ ] You’re going to wear clothes he finds for you (will probably take your preferences into consideration because he wants you happy but will definitely get things that suit his taste too), you will periodically have to share his clothes (because he dirty’s yours on purpose or ruins them).

- [ ] He wants you to rely on him for most things, getting you food to cook, personal effects/items, etc. Essentially hes going to be a sugar daddy LMFAO but in a way that he’s not necessarily giving you money, he just gets the thing for you while you wait for him because he wants you getting used to HIM taking care of you.

- [ ] *Non Con - Wukong will definitely slip things at times into your food or drink, wanting to make you think your having lovely dreams about him but in reality he has you in his lap, your legs spread wide open, one over each of his knees as he’s caressing your body or filling your hole with his tail or fingers. The wet sounds filling the air while youre out of it. Come morning there wont be a trace on you - besides the ever present lingering scent of his on your skin thanks to how touchy he is in general. Through this he explores your body, getting it needy for his touch.

- [ ] He’s also going to cum on you while you sleep or will rub his precum on the inside of your panties so when you wear them you dont even realize what he’s done as its mixed with your natural discharge of fluids that end up on your underwear throughout the day. But HIS precum and scent is pressed directly against your pussy all day.

- [ ] Depending on the situation - he may steal you away right away or he might wait and bide his time, getting you to be relaxed with him before he takes you away for himself.

- [ ] Either way, once he has you to himself he’s going to get more intense. He may not penetrate you right away but he’s going to make you crave him, until you finally beg him to bully his cock into your hole.

- [ ] He’s going to press against you all the time, rubbing his body on yours, striping you and bringing you to the edge of pleasure with his fingers, mouth, or tail until UH OH, you didnt beg him to claim you. Oops….cant orgasm because you clearly dont need him like you should. But that doesnt mean HE cant cum. So he’s going to do so and rub it into your skin or cuming against your mouth as he holds it open. Wukong wants to cum in your pussy but he holds back, instead cleaning his cock off with your panties and making you wear them all day. Showing ownership over you.

- [ ] As mentioned before, hes mouthy. He’s going to be good at using his words and voice to pick at things and make you question things. Including calling you out on your body’s reactions to him. He finds it amusing when you try to hide it. He’s going to dig into those things about you and make you squirm - get you worked up as he whispers filthy things to you. Things you might not even have thought about but now you are.

- [ ] All you’re going to know is him, what he can give you and what he does for you. He’s made sure of it. So by the time you finally beg him to stuff you full, finally fully submitting to him and giving up your stubborn pride, he’s not going to hesitate. He’s going to press you down, ass up face pressed to the floor or bed with his hand on the back of your neck as he holds you down. His cock is going to enter you in one thrust and he will be nice for just a moment to let you spasm around his shape. Wukong will coo at you and the second you even slightly relax hes going to pull back and thrust in hard. The way he takes you that first time is total dominance, you will know who you belong to and where you belong. His finger prints will be bruised into your skin and his bite mark on you as he fully claims you as HIS MATE.

- [ ] He’s going to take care of you after though dont worry, he will be gentle and kiss your body. But he’s going to make you orgasm no matter how sore or overstimulated you are - this second round will be softer. The part of him that loves you and wants to pamper you taking over.

- [ ] Wukong wont have any issue playing with you in front of his monkeys (adult ones), so if there’s a meeting going on expect his tail to wander where it shouldn’t, slipping inside you. Or he will have a clone who’s bullied his way between your legs under the table. He might even have you sit on his cock, keeping still as he deals with whatever monkey business is going on. No one will ever see an intimate part of you, he wants to keep that for himself. But they will hear you screaming his name and they will see his marks on you.

- [ ] Over all Wukong as a yandere is much more vocally and mentally manipulative. He is also raw power and strength not used to being denied. If youre too stubborn or push back he’s going to show you who is boss and why HIS way is best. He wont ever truly harm you, but youre going to know punishment / consequences for your actions if you displease him. You’re his mate, so he’s going to take care of you but it’s going to be in the way he deems best. If you fully give yourself over to him he will pamper the absolute fuck out of you while also probably pushing your boundaries here and there. Because he LIKES showing his ownership of you. Wukong wont mind you taking your own pleasure but for every orgasm you have (essentially taking them from him) he’s going to have some form of punishment lined out for you. Your body is going to know the feel of him and him alone, or him and his clones because he has zero problem with pushing you to your limits with his clones, wanting to see you cock drunk on him.

General Both:

- [ ] Regularly walks around with your juices on his chin or on the fur surrounding his cock.

- [ ] Good at after care but doesn’t hold back when he wants something

- [ ] Loves seeing his marks on your skin and presses against them regularly with his fingers to watch you squirm and remember how you got the marks.

- [ ] Not above using all the tricks in the book to get you.

- [ ] Will happily chase you down if you run - into predator/prey stuff.

- [ ] Sensitive to your returned (given willingly) affection.

Extra dark -

these are harsher so skip if you don’t like: Doing a “both” here because it’s easier. These are in general terms so different AUs/situations apply

- [ ] Very jealous & possessive. If someone shows interest in you…they aren’t gonna live long.

- [ ] Will manipulate the things around you without you knowing to get what he wants which is YOU. Be it people or events etc - will make himself look like a good option/only option you have. (If he has to clone into someone or kill someone / make them look bad he will do it)

- [ ] He thinks he knows what’s best for you so whatever he needs to do he will and you will learn that too.

- [ ] Will kill someone you may have been interested in/with/might be married off too.

- [ ] Will assert his dominance by fucking you/making you scream for him in front of someone who had eyes on you/dating you/married to you/getting married to you while a clone of his holds them captive- will kill them after he’s done showing the person who you belong to.

- [ ] Will have you cock warm him while he’s doing important things (WK kingly duties etc). Doesn’t care if others are in the room but they better not LOOK at you. That’s the rule.

- [ ] Will use you until he’s done - especially if you fight him. But he’s going to make sure you crave him and his touch/pleasure.

- [ ] Rough with you, you will have his marks on your body at all times be it scratch’s or bites and bruises. (Might make a special mark - maybe his initials)

- [ ] Going to keep you open and wet for him for when he needs you. Loves you cock drunk and mindless. Uses you as stress relief too after a hard day/fight

- [ ] Would absolutely baby trap you.

- [ ] If he wanted to really play with you, he’d capture you, fuck you, and release you with his cum still filling you (he’s going to be near by don’t worry). He will do this many times until all you can dream about is him/his touch. (Yes he could just keep you but he wants to mentally mess with you - make you crave the pleasure he forces on you)

- [ ] In that same category- will spike your food/drink and will fuck you into his shape. You’ll wake thinking you had some erotic dream but in reality he had genuinely claimed you.

- [ ] Will stalk the fuck out of you, you’ll catch him out of the corner of your eye because he WANTS you to. Wants to smell your fear a little because it excites him.

- [ ] Will make you walk around with his cum on your skin/In you - you WILL smell like his.

- [ ] Will get you anything you need but takes his payment from your body/pleasure. (Publicly too)

- [ ] You will wear the things he picks for you, some for his eyes only. Be it body jewelry or sexy items. When you’re in public you wear his favorite colors on you or the things he adorns you with.

- [ ] Fighting him is useless and only eggs him on - push him too much though and he WILL assert his power over you. You won’t be moving anywhere and will feel his ‘punishment’

- [ ] Mentally/emotionally will make it so you are so far gone on him and dependent on him you don’t even consider escaping anymore.

- [ ] Because while he’s dominant and forceful he adds enough sweetness to keep you addicted to him. Yes, he will take care of you and your basic needs and even provide good after care. You are his mate at the end of the day.

- [ ] You sleep with him every night - snug against his body. (If he hasn’t stolen you away he’s definitely sneaking into your bed)

- [ ] Regularly uses his clones not only to monitor you but to keep you ready for him. Might play punishment games if you cum while being touched by a clone.

- [ ] If someone tries to help you escape you’re going to be given their head as a trophy.

- [ ] If someone tries to take you from him, he’s going to level mountains.

- [ ] Might test you to see if you will try to escape….punishments as consequences.

- [ ] Will protect you with everything he has and any children you give him.

- [ ] Depending on the situation is suspicious if you returning affection - but if he sees it’s genuine he’s going to be smug as fuck and also very vulnerable about it but won’t show that.

#black myth wukong #sun wukong x reader #black myth wukong x reader #destined one x reader #bk kai writes #yandere stuff #I tried I’m still learning okay????#kinda vague since it’s not a full fic etc #I do have fic ideas for this 🫶

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garciaasfluffypen · 2 days ago

Text

stop embarassing me! (she knows everything you're saying)

pairing: jemily x reader word count: 3k warnings: jj and emily find it very hot that you can speak italian, illusions to sexy times at the end request from this ask a/n: everything y/n says that's in italian is translated at the bottom of the post! that being said, everything was written with a translator so please excuse any errors. also, enjoy the lore drop ;)

your italian grandmother was in town, and you were quite literally going to shit your dick.

you had cleaned your apartment top to bottom roughly five times since the news that your grandmother was coming in the off chance she asked to stay at the dingy little place. granted, you hadn’t been there full time in months, but she didn’t know that. while you had a strained relationship with your father, you were very close with your nonna. she had been there for you through all the battles you had to fight against your father as a teenager, including all the battles where he didn’t want you to take care of your siblings simply because of who you were as a person. while he saw your life through facebook, that was the only access he got to you after you turned eighteen. you only kept that line available simply so he could see how your siblings were doing. and that was it. he had created such a big fuss when you came out the month before your 18th birthday that you decided you’d cut him off as much as you could. he tried to alienate you from the rest of your family, for pete’s sake. he didn’t get to know shit about you anymore.

the joke was on him, though, seeing as the rest of your family was cool with the idea of you being queer. granted, you hadn’t dropped the bomb about being polyamorous, but you figured with how well your support system in DC was going, it would be okay. you had told your little brothers about a month prior, and all they wanted to know about emily and jj was if they were treating you right. and obviously, when they could come meet them. your older brother was in the army, so it took a little longer to get a hold of him, but he promised to stop by DC whenever he had leave next so he could meet them.

but this? this was your grandmother. it was absolutely terrifying to think of losing her. she was one of your only relatives left that could fight for you, and even though she was in her seventies you were worried about losing her. if anything, you were worried that she’d lose you first, but you didn’t want to think about that or else you’d start spiraling. you stayed alive for not only yourself and your siblings, but for her too. and you would probably cry if she said anything that even insinuated that she’d leave you. either way, you figured that you’d introduce her to them before dropping the polyamory bomb. it worked, since hotch said you could give her and your two brothers a tour of quantico this weekend and everyone except for you had been called in for a mandatory paperwork weekend.

you met up with your brothers and nonna outside quantico, slipping into the italian you had shoved into the back of your brain easily. considering it was easier to speak italian with your grandmother since your dad had never really learned it, it was something you just naturally did whenever you were around her. you weren’t sure how the team was going to react to it, but you’d cross that bridge when you got there. you got them all visitors patches and explained all your favorite parts of the building, showing them every little nook and cranny that you loved to hide in when you didn’t want to talk to people except emily and jj. making your way up to the bullpen, you felt a jolt of nervousness flow through your system. you didn’t know how your team was going to react to them at all. they had known bits and pieces about your older brother, but you hadn’t told them about your two younger brothers. that was a can of worms you weren’t sure you wanted to open around them yet.

“nonna, before we go meet my team, they can be… they can be a little excitable.”

your nonna shrugged. “nothing i can’t handle. i raised your aunts and uncles.” she paused. “and unfortunately, your father.”

“you bring up a very good point. and don’t mind anything derek says. he doesn’t really have a filter.”

“is he the one who likes football?” your youngest brother, colin, looked up to you.

“yep. i’m sure he’d love to talk to you about it, depending on how far into the paperwork he is. and let me… let me handle the introductions, please. at least the first ones.”

“of course, sweets.”

jj was one of the first people to realize you had stepped into the bullpen, seeing you walk in from where she was making her third cup of coffee in the kitchen. she was about to come say hi to you, but then she heard it. that beautiful, mid morning husk that you had whenever you woke up late mixed with… was that italian? she had to grab onto the counter to stop her knees from buckling as you talked to who she only could assume was your grandmother, since you had been talking about her all week leading up to today. she wasn’t sure who the two younger boys were with you, but she was sure she’d find out shortly. the keurig beeped, shaking her out of her thoughts as she turned around to grab her coffee, a stirrer going in seconds later.

she felt a wave of want go through her body, and she had to physically stop herself from going over to you and ravishing you then and there in front of everyone you had spent the past five years working next to. she knew it was hot when emily spoke in other languages, but hearing you speak so fluently and so carefree, with that giant smile on your face? it was one of the hottest things she had ever seen you do. granted, a lot of the things you did were hot, but this? this took the cake. jj took some cool water from the sink and rubbed it on her cheeks, knowing all too well that her cheeks were most likely a crimson red from just thinking about you speaking in another language to her. you didn’t know much about that aspect of jj and emily yet, considering you only been exploring everything for a few months. she knew so much about emily, yet she felt like she didn’t know anything about you sometimes.

“you done coffee-ing that stirrer?” luke leaned up against the counter, a smirk on his face as he watched jj. “you’ve been stirring for five minutes.”

“have i?” jj let the stirrer go, watching it go around in the cup.

“you seem distracted, are you okay?”

“i… yeah.”

while luke knew the general aspects of your relationship with her and emily, she didn’t want to delve too much into it while on the clock. he knew there was more she wasn’t saying, but knew not to push too much. but that didn’t stop him from joking around about how hard she was very clearly simping for you in the middle of the office.

“are you gonna stare and gawk at your girlfriend or are you going to say hi?”

“i will, i just…”

luke smiled. “i see. go to the bathroom for a sec, i’ll cover you.”

jj scrunched her face as luke started laughing. “ew. you pervert.” she jokingly punched him in the arm. “it’s just… they speak italian.”

“okay… doesn't emily speak italian?”

“that’s different. she’s not… she’s not them.”

meanwhile, you had started to make your rounds, slowly introducing your nonna to your team. she found everyone quite charming, and it relaxed you quite a bit knowing that they all made a good impression. even hotch came out of his office, introducing himself and engaging in the conversations. it was nice, introducing one of the most important people in your life to your found family. the next part, however, was telling your nonna about emily and jj. colin seemed to catch on very quickly when he caught jj staring, but didn’t want to say anything in case your nonna didn’t know, but he would definitely be facetime you tomorrow to talk about it. the longer you talked with your team, the more you realized you were subconsciously searching for jj the whole time. emily was at her desk, but jj was nowhere to be found. which was unlike her, unless she had taken a late lunch. which would also be unlike her.

“y/n!” penelope’s voice carried through the bullpen as she walked out of the round table room, smiling and bringing you in for a hug the second she got next to you. “i thought you weren’t coming in today? and ms ruthie! it’s so lovely to see you again!”

you visibly relaxed at her touch, “hotch said i could show my nonna and brothers around today.”

“it’s lovely to see you again too, penelope. did you dye your hair?”

“i did. just filled my roots in a little bit.” penelope chuckled. “nothing too crazy, don’t worry nonna.”

emily stood up, a smile on her face as she walked over to introduce herself. “you said she was italian, right?”

“yep!”

“ciao signora, piacere di conoscerti!”

“she speaks italian?” your grandmother looked over to you, excitement in her eyes. “che emozione.”

“i do, i lived in italy as a teen.” emily smiled. “prentiss. emily. emily prentiss.” she held her hand out.

“è una da tenersi stretta, ed è anche carina!” your grandma raised her eyebrows at you. “she speaks italian!”

you couldn’t help but blush. “nonna! mi metti in imbarazzo.”

“oh hush, i’m not embarrassing you!”

“considerando che lei sa italiano, lei sa esattamente quello che dici, nonna.”

your other brother, justin, piped in. “y/n has a point, nonna. if her coworker knows italian she’ll understand everything you’re saying. you’re not very slick with that.”

“oh it’s okay,” emily chuckled. “it’s quite amusing.”

“let me not be rude,” your grandma turned to the rest of the team. “i’m ruthie. i practically raised y/n since she was a baby.”

“dang, sweet thing, i didn’t know you came with another language!” derek chuckled.

“derek the next thing that comes out of your mouth better be appropriate for my seventy six year old italian grandmother to hear.”

“i was going to ask if your girls knew about that, is all.”

you rolled your eyes, knowing that not at all what derek was about to say. “no, they don’t, but they’ll be meeting nonna this weekend if everything goes to plan.”

“who am i meeting?”

“le luci della mia vita, le ragazze che ho frequentato.” you couldn’t help but sheepishly smile as you caught emily’s eye. “one of them is right here, actually.”

emily wasn’t sure if the blush on her face was any indication of how she was feeling, but good god it was sending her into orbit hearing you talk in italian. over the five years they had known you, the fact you knew italian this whole time was the most surprising. there were bits and pieces that they had been able to get out of you, but you were pretty secretive about your life before joining the bau. penelope knew most, if not all of your story since you two had been friends since high school, but that was all she knew. besides the fact that you turned her on so easily. that was a given. she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear as she watched you slowly try to explain to your nonna about how you were dating two girls, not just one. the way you took so much care in choosing your words, explaining everything as easily as you could… it was endearing.

she couldn’t take her eyes off of you, not until jj came to stand next to her, knuckles white as she seemingly held herself back. your face lit up as you saw jj, launching into another tangent to your nonna about how jj had been one of the first people to befriend you when you joined the team. within seconds, the two women started having a silent conversation with just their eyes. they both felt the same way, it seemed, and they were both going a bit feral over this new side of you. although emily did appear to be hiding it a bit better than jj was. emily nudged jj’s knee with her own, shooting her a smirk that could only be read by two people. you and jj. jj bit her lip, having to physically restrain herself once again as you seamlessly switched back into italian, your eyes lighting up as you explained the dynamics of the team to your nonna.

“so tell me again, who are you partnered with?”

“i go out in the field with either derek or matt.” you pointed to them individually. “matt’s role is unique, he also helps the IRT team so he comes and goes depending on if he’s needed internationally. we like to joke we split custody of him with the international team.”

“and the tall one?”

“reid? he’s the brains.” reid awkwardly waved from his desk. “he usually knows stuff that we don’t. kind of like how colin knows almost everything about football.”

“oh yes, that makes sense. and what about the lovely ladies?”

“well you know what pen does, tara and jj do a lot of the interviews with families, and i always say that emily’s job is to sit there and look pretty, but she usually goes out in the field and investigates with reid.”

“you all seem to be a well oiled machine,” ruthie started. “i’m glad you’re looking out for my y/n. they had a tough life growing up, it’s nice to know they’re supported here.”

“oh they’re a pleasure to work with,” rossi piped up. “a welcome addition to the team for sure.”

as your nonna conversed with the team, you couldn’t help but glance over to jj. you forgot how much she adored it when emily talked in italian, but hadn’t even considered the option of how she would react when she heard you speak italian. to you, emily appeared to be holding in her need for you relatively well. her cheeks were flushed, sure, but she was also in a turtleneck in the office where they blasted the heat the second it got below 60. jj on the other hand… jj looked like she needed a cold shower. you had to hold back a chuckle as you caught tara’s eyes, who also appeared to have clocked her reaction as well. jj’s jaw was slack as she stared at you, eyes filled with lust. while your grandmother was distracted, you took the moment to squeeze her hand lightly to see if she was okay. tara took the opportunity to close jj’s jaw for her, shooting you a small smile as she did so. emily had to hide a chuckle, covering her mouth with a hand as she nudged at the blonde. you locked eyes with jj, your eyebrows raising as she stared back at you, her gaze telling you everything you needed to know. you weren’t going to go all bratty on her here, since you hadn’t talked a whole lot about boundaries outside of the house, but you were tempted.

“i didn’t know you’d act this way, jayje. i would have done this way earlier if i had known.” you chuckled. “you got a thing for other languages?”

“only from you and em.”

you squeezed her hand, resisting the urge to kiss her. “i’ll make it up to you, i promise.”

tara, picking up on the mood shift between you two, suddenly stood up. “hey, i was gonna go grab a soda, do either of you want anything?”

“nah, i’m good. do you want anything?”

“i’m good too, thanks t.” you smiled at tara, waiting for her to leave before turning back to jj and emily. “i’m sorry i didn’t tell you guys sooner.”

“don’t be sorry, lovey, it never came up.” emily shrugged. “i will be using this information to my advantage, though.”

“what, so you can converse in secret in front of me?”

“mostly about christmas gifts, but yes.” you joined in on the joke, a sarcastic hint in your voice.

“your nonna is very sweet.”

“she is.” you smiled. “i’m sure she’ll love to talk about your time in italy this weekend when you guys come for dinner. she doesn’t know i’m not in the alexandria apartment anymore, i figured this would be the last hurrah before i ended the lease.” you shrugged. “if you guys don’t mind driving out there.”

“of course not, baby.” jj squeezed your hand. “are you coming home tonight, though? or are you staying at the apartment?”

you stared at jj for a second, your eyes narrowing. you crossed your arms in front of your chest before tapping your shoulder, eyebrows rising as if silently asking her are you in control? jj slightly nodded at you before tilting her head, waiting for your confirmation. you tapped your shoulder again in confirmation, making sure nobody in the vicinity besides emily had decoded your silent conversation.

“i’ll try. i’m not sure where my nonna is staying, but i’ll let you know.”

“i want you home by eleven.” jj’s eyes darkened, voice dropping slightly. “no later.”

before the conversation could take a turn, you felt a light hand on your back. turning to see justin, you smiled.

“what’s up?”

“nonna wants to know what the plan was, are we heading back to alexandria?”

“i uh… i was hoping to stay here, actually.” you tilted your head towards jj in silent explanation.

“does she know?”

“well, she understood the fact that emily and i were together, at least.” you chuckled as you caught your nonna talking to luke and tara. “not sure she picked up on jj’s obvious simping.”

“either way, it is a drive back to alexandra so if we want to go to dinner, we should go now.”

“you’re right, we should.” you turned back to emily and jj. “i’ll text you guys when i figure out where i’ll be tonight?”

jj narrowed her eyes at you with a devious smile on her face. “11pm, y/n. no later.”

with a chuckle, you stepped away, letting jj’s hand fall back to her side.

“i’ll do my best.” you smirked slightly. “we have dinner plans.”

translations:

nonna- grandmother

ciao signora, piacere di conoscerti- hello ma’am, nice to meet you!

che emozione.- how exciting

è una da tenersi stretta ed è anche carina! - she’s a keeper, she’s pretty too.

mi metti in imbarazzo- you’re embarrassing me

considerando che lei sa italiano, lei sa esattamente quello che dici, nonna.- considering she knows italian, she knows exactly what you're saying, grandma

le luci della mia vita, le ragazze che ho frequentato.- the lights of my life, the girls i've been dating

taglist: @jayden-prentiss @idkwhatever580 @multifandomlesbianic @softestqueeen @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

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ellecdc · 6 hours ago

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could I please please please request — “you don’t need to earn my affection, not now and not ever.” with remus, angst with comfort🥹

poor baby rem

Remus Lupin x fem!reader who loves him for no specific reason [850 words]

CW: angst, remus' self-loathing, hurt/comfort

Remus was rotten company, he was well aware. He probably wasn’t great company at the best of times, even less so laid out on a hospital bed.

Yet there you were, in a stiff hospital chair as though it was a luxurious wingback in the Gryffindor common room, feet propped up against the end of the bed so your legs were folded slightly at the knees, and a book in your lap. Here because Remus was and for no other reason.

The worst part was that Remus wasn’t even pretending to be asleep. He was splitting his time between staring at the side of your head as you read quietly - bothering absolutely no one yet Remus was so horribly aware of your presence - and glowering at anyone and everyone who walked by the foot of his bed.

This is how Remus spent his time. This is what a life with Remus was; full moons, healing balms, terrible moods, and glowering.

“Why are you here?” He asked then; voice hoarse and grating though he didn’t bother clearing his throat. He was rotten company.

You didn’t look over right away, your eyes drifting from the pages of your book as you tucked your finger to the place you were on and folded the book closed.

“Do you not want me here, Remus?” You asked, eyes still pointed at where your feet were resting on the hospital bed.

“That’s not what I said.” He countered darkly. “I asked why you’re here.”

“Because I want to be.” You answered simply.

“Why?”

“Remus-”

“Why would you want to be here?” He asked, gesturing vaguely to the sad, curtained walled room the two of you were sequestered in; you willingly and him not at all. “Why would you want to be here with me?”

“I always want to be with you.” You offered quickly, the end of Remus’ sentence barely left his tongue before you were arguing with him.

You were sitting up now; feet on the floor and leaning over the book still in your lap as though you were itching to be closer to him but not wanting to risk it.

“Why?”

“Because I love you, Rem-”

“Why!?” He wasn’t embarrassed by the way his voice echoed through the hospital wing, nor the way that the matron shushed him reproachfully. He was embarrassed at the speed of which you sat up straight, rearing back as though Remus had slapped you.

He was rotten company.

“What do you mean ‘why’, Remus?” You sounded gutted, utterly heartbroken. Remus was rotten.

“Why would you love me?” He whispered defeatedly.

The question seemed to boggle your mind, leaning back in your chair as you scrutinised Remus; a difficult arithmancy question, a troublesome potion, a crystal ball refusing to give you answers in divination.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Remus scoffed a humourless laugh, jamming his fingers in his eyes until he could see stars. “Why wouldn’t you!? Maybe- maybe because I’m not James sodding Potter with an endless amount of energy to chase you around like a witch ought to be. Or… or-or Sirius Black who can shower you an endless amount of compliments or flashy gifts. Or even-”

“Remus.” It wasn’t the venerating way in which you said his name that had him pausing, realising the way his breaths were leaving his lips in panicked little bursts, but the way in which your hand - warm, so warm - gently landed on his wrist now lying against the bed. “Stop.”

The next sound from Remus was a sob.

“I don’t know” you started slowly, punctuating your words with a gentle squeeze to his wrist, reminding him you were real and that he still existed “who told you that any of those things made someone more worthy of love. But it is simply not true.”

He shook his head but didn’t dare contradict you when your fingers circled Remus’ wrist with more fervency in warning.

“I am choosing to be here. I want to be here. And if you want me to list all of the reasons why I love you I will happily do so but Remus John Lupin, you listen now, and you listen good: you do not need to earn my affection. Not now, not ever.”

Remus let out a shuddering sigh as he tried to will his heart to return to his chest from where it migrated to his throat.

“Do you hear me?”

“I hear you.” He croaked, offering you the best (though the most watery) smile he could muster. “I hear you. I’m sorry. I love you.”

“I love you.” You promised again; expression a mixture of determined, somewhat frustrated, and dutifully in love. “For no specific reason either, alright?”

Remus smiled at you, easier this time. “Alright.”

“Go back to sleep.” You sighed, though you had a smile on your face. “I love you; but it’s even easier to love you when you’re well rested.”

“I love you.” He repeated as he settled back into his bed.

“I know, Rem.” You murmured. “I love you too.”

Remus was rotten company. You loved him anyway.

#marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #marauders #the marauders #the maruaders #marauder era #remus lupin fic #remus lupin hurt/comfort #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin blurb #Remus Lupin ficlet #remus lupin angst #ellecdc fics

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pomefioredove · 16 hours ago

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wait wait wait, your requests are open for noble bell for this weekend only? (if i got that right?!) sound perfect gimme 14 of em. anywhos if i did not getting the date wrong i have one! and if i i did please just let me shrivel up and die, thank you.

post college rollo and reader who live together as “roommates.” they’re 100% more than roommates and everyone can see it but them. rollo is probably some senator or something and insisted reader moves in with him cause he insists that since he’s making laws more just for magicless people there’s literally no where safer for them to be. just basically some domestic fluff with two people who act like they’re married and don’t even realize it. i personally think it would be way cuter to read from the perspective of a third party but if you’re willing to write this you can do it anyway anyhow and i’ll still be happy. thank you! <3

(if i got the weekend wrong i will absolutely die so please let me down gently, i am accoustic so i no no understand very basic things such as “this weekend” or “next saturday” if the day of the week is before a saturday)

oooh a bit of a future au... this is cute

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ and they were roommates

type of post: fic characters: rollo additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, kinda written from a 3rd perspective

Rollo Flamme's favoritism had never been a secret.

He might have been quiet, reserved, repressed beyond all reason, but there were some things even he couldn't hide behind his star-spotted handkerchief.

The very moment you arrived at Noble Bell College, you were his.

Rollo Flamme beheld you with a sort of reverence that could be called sacrilegious. That is to say, one had never seen idolatry until one had seen the way he looked at you, the way he touched you as if you were made out of porcelain, as if he could break you with an unclean hand and a breath.

His coldness and cordiality towards the others never changed.

For all your kindness, your smiles, your gentle touches upon his cheek that he would never have let anyone else give, you could not change him. And you did not try.

It was a tragedy in two parts.

Not that it mattered, of course. Not to you.

As far as you were concerned, the world began and end with each other. In a room full of people, mages and scholars and royalty, Rollo Flamme would still only look at you.

Nothing was confirmed. Your affection for one another was kept to lingering touches and burning glances across the long, morose hallways of Noble Bell.

If anyone had asked, and they certainly did, Rollo's handkerchief would come to sit over his mouth and he would remind them that gossip is unbecoming.

And to be decent, thank you.

Yet the rumors could never be smothered, and they lingered after Rollo's first graduation, and another, and to his seat on the Fleur City Council.

You lived with him.

You lived with him, in his family home.

And he would continue to deny anything romantic, giving the same excuse that he had since Noble Bell, that you simply had no one else to look after you, and it was his duty as a civil servant to see to your care.

Which was utter bullshit.

But, perhaps, bullshit that you both believed.

Outside of the council, it was rare to see him alone. When he went out, he went out with you. When he attended public events, you walked by his side. When he worked at home, you sat in his study, by the fireplace, as if you had always belonged there. With him.

Rollo would excuse himself from small talk and after-hour business like so:

"It's been lovely talking to you, Senator, but I'll be late for dinner,"

"Please, come by my office first thing tomorrow morning. I'm expected at home,"

"I'll have to be going, now. I have an excursion on the town tonight. With whom? Well, whom else?"

It became widely accepted, amongst his colleagues and the public, that Rollo Flamme was married. One might not have guessed, of course, from his cold demeanor, but rumors of the magicless alumni from Noble Bell that he so adored smoldered.

Rollo did not concern himself with the whispers or the knowing looks his colleagues gave each other, until a warm day in late March where a well-meaning secretary from another branch asked if he had any children.

"Children?" he had scoffed. "Why would you ask such a thing?"

The poor secretary looked like he had seen a ghost. "Well... you're married, aren't you?"

"Absolutely not. What gave you such an idea?"

And he seemed reluctant to answer.

Rollo had gone home that night with much on his mind. When you asked him if anything had happened at the council, he said "Nothing eventful".

To Rollo, who had lived in Fleur City, lonely yet not alone, for so many years without a kindling of friendship and not a thought on romance, he had never once questioned your relationship. You were his companion. His first, and last. That's all that matters.

Isn't it?

He could ask for nothing more than you. Your voice, your smile, your hands and warmth mingling with his. He was happy with you. Your friendship is enough for him.

Isn't it?

Despite what he tells himself, that night, when you sit close to him in front of the fire, reading a book he recommended simply because he recommended it, Rollo finds himself looking at you twice as much as usual.

He puts an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side, and you stay there, as if you had always belonged there. With him.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #rollo flamme x reader

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siolixz · 2 days ago

Text

♔Of Love and Loyalty♔

+18

Part 3: the end.

Pairings: Oz "The Penguin" Cobb x Reader

Reader takes Victor's place in this story. She has already been through enough by now and Oz's ruthless ambition finally meets the satisfaction of power. Hope you guys like it- I spent most of my day writing this and I apologize for any grammar mistakes. I'll fix them when I wake up. Please, remember that MY Oz has been changed a bit from the show Oz- in order to make a "x reader story" I gotta humanize him, while also keeping him at least half true to the masterpiece Lauren created. I have enjoyed writing this story sooo much. Everyone is 18+ and consenting.

Words: 6.2k

Enjoy and give feedback If you want :)

Warnings: mentions of violence, vulgar language, age-gap relationship, smut ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡° )

You don’t remember how you got here.

First you remember talking to Oz about something on the phone early in the morning after a delivery- then you remember going home to sleep and when you arrived- there was nothing.

What the fuck happened? There was a guy- he came towards you. Then you looked at him- then he; he punched you? So that’s why you have a splitting headache. Everything felt like a dream- were you dreaming right now?

Are you sleeping? Why is everything so dark?

You could hear voices, faint voices but they were there. Someone grabbed you by your arm and forced you upright. Now there was light everywhere and your eyes felt like they were on fire. Why is everything so fucking bright?

You blinked a few times and looked around the room; wow, how fancy. Where were you? The walls looked like they were carved and you only saw furniture like this when you looked at the TV. You saw a man there, a big guy; an enforcer, you thought, and in your dazed state you asked him “Where am I?” he looked at you and remained quiet. Great.

Your head was killing you. Jesus. Your hands and feet weren’t tied however- how odd.

You rapidly lifted your head when you heard the sharp sound of a pair of heels on the expensive floor, the door opened and- Oh, it’s her.

“Look who’s awake.” Sofia softly smiled at you, she’s gonna kill you probably. Why does she have a plate of food?

“I brought you breakfast- you’ve been gone quite a while you see.” She walked across from you and placed the plate down on the table.

“I bet you’re wondering what you are doing here.” she came over and sat next to you- crossing her legs and leaning back “You and I have a lot to talk about.”

She looked you up and down. You looked like the complete opposite of her, in your jeans and t-shirt, you were sure your face was smeared with blood too- where you got punched.

“Are you nervous?” she asked- her eyes were examining every inch of your face, trying to search for any signs of anxiety or sadness. You shook your head- “No.” you said.

She said your full name and gave a long description of your family- what they did, what jobs they had, she mentioned your sister too, your poor sweet sister- how dare she speak their names.

“When I saw you at Oz’s apartment or at the club, I didn’t get a good look at you. But I did see the way he looked at you.” a small smile danced on her lips “ like he would look away and you would be gone, like in a dream. How fascinating I thought. Some girls spend their whole lives wishing someone would look at them like that.” You listened to her and she came closer to you.

“You know, I really never noticed at the time- how young you are.” She once again looked you up and down, her voice became quieter

“Guess this is the same old tragic story, ‘orphaned street kid falls prey to some maniacs silver tongue’ . Yours won’t be any different, I can assure you. Maybe you believe it will- but it won’t.” She got up again and walked towards the table. She picked up a piece of toast and sat back down next to you.

“W-why am I here?” you asked her, your throat was sore and that stupid headache was still there.

“Why?” she looked surprised “Didn’t you figure it out by now? You’re our bargaining chip- you’re gonna help us. Greatly. Sal already has Oz, now all we need is to find a way to kill him.” There was an indescribable emptiness in your stomach at her words

“Of course after I make sure he feels the same sort of sadness he inflicted on me-that’s where you come into play. ”

You looked down at your feet, trying to find words to pronounce. This is what this sort of life brings you, death. Only death and pain.

“What ma-makes you think he’s gonna su-suffer as much as you?” you muttered- more to yourself really.

“The way he looks at you and sure- looks ain't enough, but the way he talked to me about you.” She exhaled loudly, like a schoolgirl talking about a crush, mocking you.

“Some people could only dream about that. You know, he talked about you at my brother’s funeral and the way he would compliment you before the deal at the club; but besides that-” her face got serious.

“-you’re the closest person to him. The only person who knows the in’s and out’s of the massive drug operation he built; his second in command, you have his ear and loyalty. You’re the last thing he has got left in this world, without you, he’s all alone.” she leaned back again.

“I almost feel sorry for you.”

You blinked, trying to make sense of her words- she continued, disgust laced in her words “You’re just a fucking kid.”

There was a silence that followed that only made the gravity of her words more apparent.

“He put this on you. It seems to me- like you had a pretty good life- before all this. You studied well, you had a lot of friends- it seemed like your life couldn’t get better. Then the floods came and you turned into a street rat. Now you think him saving you was what you needed- but no. He’s a manipulator and a liar and he will stop at nothing to achieve his goals.” She took another deep breath and squinted her eyes at you in judgment.

“I mean, don’t you ever think what your parents would say? Seeing you with a man like that?”

“Don’t talk about my parents-” she was pressing your buttons and you knew that lashing out at her was at the cost of your own life right now.

“What would your mother say? Huh? I bet she wanted her little girl to find herself a good man, with a nice job, but no.. she found herself a drug lord.” Sofia snickered, half in disgust and half in pity.

“You kn-know… Oz-“ you started and she cocked her head to the side

“He’s gonna kill Sal, just like-like he did his wife and son and th-then he’s coming straight for you.”

“You have a lot of faith in him.”

“Yes I do.” Yes you did. If there was one thing you knew about him is that he was unstoppable, one way or another- he was going to get his way and he was going to win in the end. He had to.

You lowered your tone and leaned closer to her “He’s always-always two steps ahead. He will come for you.” There was a twinge of something on her face, was it- was it fear?

She got up and left afterwards. Thank god. You didn’t want to see her again.

Some time passed; your stomach was rumbling but you didn’t eat the food she prepared, you had time to think- think about what she said.

What would your mom say? It almost brought tears to your eyes thinking about them.

Late at night before you would go to sleep, since you were young she would always come in and kiss your forehead. That was your ritual.

You smiled before it was quickly wiped from your face when you remembered what sort of life you had now. What would she think?

“My little girl” she would say “so brave” she’d probably be disappointed, so disappointed. Her and your dad too. They despised people like Oz, people shouldn’t murder and cheat their way to the top. He was the complete opposite of the man they were hoping you'd be with.

They loved Robert, always inviting him at home to eat together, he was a good boy, he listened and he studied well, it’s better he left Gotham.

They would probably be frightened by Oswald, afraid to even look at him. This man couldn’t look acceptable to the parents of a young girl like you in a million years, from the big scar on his face to his gold teeth and manner of talking.

They would rather hope for him to be your sugar daddy than you loving- loving him?

You knew at this point there was no going back, you loved him- you did. However wrong this was. You loved all of him and you were disgusting, both of you.

You blinked away the tears that were threatening to fall.

Was he gonna be sad you were nowhere to be seen or heard? Was he turning the place upside down when he saw you were gone? Was he for a split moment thinking you tried to leave, and this time, you were successful? Was he thinking all those nights and days spent by his side, next to him- over him and under him were all a facade when you stopped responding to his texts?

Someone called out your name.

“I’m doctor Julian Rush... I am a psychiatrist” He looked at Sofia who was also next to him then back at you “I’m here to help you.”

Dr. Julian Rush weirded you out, severely. He put you down on a sofa and started asking you things, about your family, about how you felt- he had this ginormous light that would flash red that only worsened your state of defiance. It induced this sort of feeling in you- seeing it.

It toyed with your emotions and feelings; it made you remember. You remembered everything.

You told them everything.

From your earliest memories in Gotham, to your latest. Riding your bike down the street as a kid, running with your friends to your favorite diner before it closed, family nights, the happiness you felt when walking in your home, even if your parents or sister sometimes annoyed you- you were so rich in their love and warmth- so happy.

You told them how you saw your apartment get swallowed up by the waves- how you tried to call; warn them, but to no avail.

At this point you were definitely crying your eyes out- holding yourself and trying to find some comfort.

Living in a FEMA camp was a nightmare, a nightmare that was never ending and it seemed to only become more like reality every damn day. You scraped by, you had to eat and live not just survive. So you joined some of the local boys there when they said they were going to find something to sell.

You never thought you would be stealing; you knew it was wrong and evil, but you did what you had to do. Life is cruel.

You tried to remember everything. Not wanting to lose even a bit of detail.

You had to be quick. Until he comes back. The first look at the Maserati waiting out there was like a piece of pie ready to be eaten- one of the boys went “wow” when he saw it and you were next to it like some hyenas soon enough.

At the first shot, you saw everyone scream and pick themselves up to run. You acted too slow that night, too busy with doing a good job to notice you were the one closest to him.

The first time you looked at Oswald, you thought he was the scariest man you’ve ever seen in your whole life- especially because it was night time and because he just tried to fucking kill you.

You told them how he made you do all those things. How lonely he was- how he touched you and looked at you sometimes. You told them you found kinship in one another, how you weren’t that lonely anymore and how utterly frightened he made you feel. Every.Damn.Day.

How you cried yourself to sleep all those nights, how you wanted to be better- be something more and this was the only way. This or death.

You told them about Robert too- how you hoped he had a better life, find someone who will love him and treasure him. How he tried to make you go with him and you tried to. By God you did, until he came back that night at the club. How he pushed a gun in your face and-and-

You blinked yourself out of it slowly, you knew you wanted out. This sick piece of shit was toying with you. With your emotions.

She brought you back in, reminded you about how he looked that night- what he said about you “you can remember, just tell us” the Doctor said.

His smell and all of him. A sick man, he was sick.

He wanted you all to himself and would kill you if that’s what it takes.

You remembered your mother’s words to you at every family gathering or dinner “She’ll find a good man, one who takes care of her. I know it. Maybe a doctor, let’s hope.” You heard everyone laugh; so clearly- like they were there with you.

It seemed like they were taunting you now. They expected so much more from you.

You felt better whenever he was around you, how he would talk and walk to his jokes and smile. He was everything to you now. Late at night you would talk about all the things you wanted to do or have. You told him about your biggest dream in the whole world:

“A pen-penthouse” you whispered next to him as you were looking down at your fingers from your place on the couch. Maybe he thought it was stupid, how could someone like you ever achieve that?

“Yeah?” he turned to you “That what you want?” he asked, a small smile was gracing his lips.

“Yes. No one is above you or beside you; the c-city skyline.” If you closed your eyes, you could picture it—clear as day.

“With b-big windows so I can look outside and great big rooms with high ceilings- like in the movies.”

Julian told you Oz took all of that from you. Your old life- if he cared, if he truly cared he would’ve let you go that night. The bastard.

Sofia told you he manipulated you, he molded you into the woman he wanted you to be, you’re just a kid. You should have no part in this.

It must’ve been hours since you haven’t eaten or drank anything.

You wanted to go back to Crown Point, have him tell you it’s all a bad dream “Let’s cook something, I’m starving-” he’d say and you two would chat until late at night. You slept the best with him in bed with you, even if he snored and it was hard to get him to turn over on the other side. You missed that.

They grabbed you again- taped your mouth shut and stabbed you with something tiny, like a needle; it felt like a pinch. You proceeded to drive into the city and they shoved you through the back door- and then you saw him.

Tied down to a chair with tape, a towel shoved in his mouth, he started yelling and struggling when he saw you- making a gesture towards Sofia- like he wanted to strangle her.

This felt like a movie, like something you weren’t experiencing yourself- more like something you were watching from afar. Was this it?

The last moments of your life; they got you two and now everything has gone to shit again.

Well you couldn’t say you weren’t close to getting what you wanted.

You looked at him as they sat you down on a chair, trying to remember everything you could about him. You felt like crying but no tears came out.

“So, now that everyone is gathered here-” Sofia started “-I wanted to bring some stuff to the surface. Shine some light regarding some things.” She walked around you and back towards Oz.

He looked at you then back at her; confused.

“Oz, while you were getting beaten blown up- me and your ‘Bonnie’ had a talk. It was a real eye opener, I would say.” she glanced back at you

“Do you wanna tell us why you decided to spare her life that night? Let’s have your side of the story.” Sofia took the towel out of his mouth-

“What the fuck is this shit? You’re a sicko- ya know that? Jesus Christ” He yelled while looking at you and her.

“-Oz, you wanna tell us, huh?-”

“Fuck you!”

“Alright. Well I already know everything. Your little girl here sang like a bird-”

“-Fuck did you do to her?”

“Nothing. We just had a conversation, girl to girl.” she gave him a smile “She told me everything.”

Oz looked at you, confusion clearly written on his face. You couldn’t even shake your head no- something was wrong. You could barely lift it. Did they give you something?

“You think she’s in love with you-” Sofia cocked her head to the side “-I’m here to tell you, she’s not. This whole thing that you two have- fear, fear ties her to you. It was all a lie. All of it.”

Oz looked at you again. Fuck you could barely lift your head, it looked like you were staring at the ground, not wanting to make eye contact with him, your vision became blurry too.

You tried to blink away the feeling of falling asleep, what was happening?

Oswald called out your name and you heard him yelling at you that he was going to get you out of here.

“You’ve ruined her life. Because you’re selfish and greedy and lonely. That night at the club- she wanted to leave- to escape, and you brought her back. You held a gun to her face and told her she’s not going anywhere-”

“Fuck you-”

“You know what Oswald? I think she would like an apology. Right here and now. An apology for the life she could’ve had.”

You don’t know how but you managed to lift your head and look him in the eyes. You tried to move your legs- tried to wake the fuck up.

“She wanted this.” He said.

Julian grabbed your hand and placed it on the table. “From which hand was the finger that you cut? The left or the right- It was the left.” Sofia said.

It must’ve been the pain that woke you up halfway from the episode you must’ve been having because your eyes fully opened when you realized that they were cutting your finger. Shit, shit, shi-

You heard Oz call out your name and throw profanities towards Sofia. “All you gotta do is apologize, Oswald.-”

“-She knew what she was getting herself into I-”

“-Say you’re sorry-”

“-I told you I ain't got-”

“-Just say you’re fucking sorry!”

The pain almost made your ears ring and you screamed into the tape that was on your mouth, trying your best to get away from the pain you were feeling.

“This is fucking insane!”

The pain stopped and you grabbed your hand, trying to get some relief.

“You would’ve let me cut it.” Sofia’s voice was filled with disgust “Rather than admit you made her life worse, you would’ve let me cut it…you’re fucking despicable.”

You saw Julian grabbing something from his suitcase and bringing it closer to your arm. It looked like- like a needle.

“I never realized it till now but this is almost like a high for you, isn’t it?” Sofia's voice was almost a whisper “Having someone so utterly dependent on you, her sole reason for existing is because you let her. You have her whole life in your hands… you’re a fucking bastard. What were you thinking huh? One day you were gonna make her Mrs Cobb and you two would live happily ever after?”

Julian managed to get the needle in your skin and you felt a warmth spread across your whole body. You looked at Oz and saw how hard he was struggling against his restraints and the look of fear on Sophia's face when he actually freed himself.

What was she thinking- binding a 250 pound man with duct tape on a chair as old as this restaurant? You heard the commotion and you tried to stand up but black dots started to appear in your vision-

“She fell and hit her head- “ you felt like you were dreaming but you could hear and feel certain things. Like when he put you in the back of the car or when he placed you on the hospital bed. Maybe you died.

“She’s gonna be alright, yeah?”

“We’ll do anything we can, sir.”

You thought you died and instead of the devils in hell torturing you for all the injustice you have done- there was nothing. Nothing. Just the sound of something beeping and the sound of voices sometimes, you could also smell- was this a hospital?

There was also yelling and a voice. You knew that voice.

“C’mon doll, open those big eyes for me. Please.” a hand brushing your hair back and one touching your hand.

“I did it. I’m the fucking king- all this shit ain’t gonna mean anything if you don’t wake up.” you heard him whisper.

“Please open your eyes, sweetheart. Please”

When you finally woke up, it must’ve been late in the afternoon. The sound of rain softly touching the window and the beeping of the monitor was the only sound in the sterile room.

You swallowed, trying to wet your throat.

Your eyes felt like they were opened for the first time or like when you want to take a short nap in the evening and you wake up at 12am, they felt like they were sewed shut and only now you could open them.

You looked around the room and saw that your hand was being held- There he is, you thought to yourself.

He was sitting on a chair, his head uncomfortably placed on his shoulder- ouch- that's gonna hurt later. You raised your right hand; placing it on your stomach and squeezed his with your left.

Once and then twice.

“O-oz, Oz.” your voice was hoarse like you yelled all night long, you squeezed his hand again- harder this time.

He finally lifted his head and looked at you. His eyes were so red and bloodshot; he must’ve been crying.

Oswald looked shocked and then relief flooded his face- his eyes lit up- “Hey-” he said, then kissed your forehead.

“-you’re finally awake.” He hugged you and you placed your arms around his neck, slowly- but you did.

“I did it.” his voice was muffled by the pillow and your neck “I showed all those sons of bitches.” You rubbed his back- not knowing what exactly he meant by that.

“I thought you weren’t gonna wake up.” he lifted his head and looked at you “They gave you something, pento- something. I thought-” He was getting choked up. This big strong bull of a man.

“Ye-yeah well, I was halfway to hell when I remembered I forg-forgot you here so…” you whispered.

He started laughing at that- touching your foreheads together; gold teeth gleaming.

After you left the hospital you told him you just wanted to sit and talk. So he drove you to a park, it was very secluded- you two sat on a bench overlooking the river.

He explained to you everything he had done, from throwing Sofia in Arkham to getting all the crime bosses murdered by their second in command and now having something to hold over a congressman- Oswald would be running in the upper circles as one of them, not a lieutenant or a cripple- one of them.

“What a smart man” you said while hugging the jacket you had on closer to you. Winter was already here. The city lights softly illuminating his face, he had the expression of a man who won it all- he was on top of the world.

“Fuck- ya' know, I couldn’t have done it without you.” He looked at you softly and with admiration

“You are really something special kid.” he smirked at you, leaning back a little- trying to take all of you in.

“Oz, you’re like fam-family to me.” You told him and saw as his expression shifted- something laid beneath his eyes- you couldn’t place a finger on what.

“You see - “ he grabbed your body and pulled you closer to him, his face mere inches from yours “You showed me, doll- you can be my greatest strength. But the thing about family is… they make you fight harder than you ever thought you could. They show you what you’re really capable of- even when you’re not seeing it.” he grabbed the side of your neck, gently brushing his thumb over your face.

He was hesitant, a man so full of words and phrases was left without any in this moment.

“It weakens you too and I think- I think all of this would not mean as much if you weren’t by my side.” He kissed you.

You never in a million years thought you were ever gonna drive a Maserati- now you were in a Rolls Royce.

A gorgeous purple color, something that once only showed his flamboyance now signals his power and influence over everything that moves in the underworld of Gotham, he was “the king” and you couldn’t be more proud of him and you. When the car rolled down the street people stopped and stared at it, talking among themselves and taking pictures.

He told you that night, after a very expensive dinner- he had a surprise for you “Somethin’ real special” he got.

You entered a very fancy apartment complex, the opulence of the place immediately striking you as the elevator whisked you up.

In the mirrored walls of the lift, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, catching a glimpse of the two of you.

“You two look like a match”, you remembered Roxy’s words from the club. You were both dressed in black—the most expensive dress you owned, a gift from him- and Oz, who looked as if he had stepped out of a Fred Astaire movie. So poised, so polished. People with your kind of money didn't even open their own car doors.

You’d asked him where you were going, and he only replied, "It's a surprise," with that familiar glinted smile of his.

Oz was a man who relished in the influence his newly acquired power gave him. He’d been rapidly reconstructing Crown Point, making a name for himself not just among Gotham's underground elite but also rubbing shoulders with the high society.

It wasn’t a stretch to imagine that one day he’d run for mayor- and you’d be right by his side.

The elevator doors slid open, and you stepped out into the apartment, breath catching in your throat.

It was... breathtaking.

The entire space was so grand, it felt almost unreal, as though the world had bent its will to cater to him. To you. You almost couldn’t take it all in at once.

The high ceilings stretched above you, the living room expansive and bathed in the soft glow of a fireplace, the crackling warmth spreading throughout the room. But it was the view that stole your breath. The floor-to-ceiling windows revealed all of Gotham, its lights twinkling below like a blanket of stars.

You moved toward the window, your feet almost moving on their own as you absorbed the beauty. The city spread out endlessly, like a maze of lights and possibilities, and here you were—at the top of it all.

The heat from the fireplace surrounded you, making the space feel so warm, so alive, and for a moment, everything outside of this apartment, faded away. This was your world now. You could hardly believe it, after everything that had happened.

After everything he’d done to get here.

Oz stood behind you, his presence so steady and unwavering. You could feel his eyes on your back, his gaze warm, yet calculating, as if he was still analyzing the moment.

"Ya' like it?" His voice was soft but full of that familiar edge- he wasn’t just asking about the apartment.

You could tell there was something deeper in his question, an unspoken desire to know if you truly liked the life he had built for you, for the two of you.

You turned to face him, the firelight catching his features, casting soft shadows across his face. His eyes were dark, intense, as though he was trying to read your every emotion.

You met his gaze, the warmth of the room matching the heat you felt in your chest.

This is it, you thought. The beginning of everything, everything you’d ever wanted. And somehow, it felt like the end of something else.

You took a step closer to him, and for a moment, you simply stood there, breathing in the air between you. You could feel the tension in the air, thick and heady.

“Of course” you proudly announced. You loved it- every inch of it.

Oz stepped forward, closing the distance with one smooth movement. His hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, the simple touch sending a shiver down your spine.

His voice was low, only for you to hear, “I made it happen for you... for us. All of it. Tell me, doll... you proud of me?” He came closer to you, grabbing your face.

“Of course,” you said. Excitement gripped you and you knew him asking that sort of question meant he was in need of some love and appreciation.

“You know-” you got out of his grip.

“-I actually want to see the master bedroom- maybe the sheets are purple too.” You laughed- the adrenaline you felt when his face changed to one of excitement as well turned you on and you left your shoes near the staircase that went upstairs- to the second floor of the massive penthouse.

The icy cold feel of the floor didn’t matter to you as you almost sprinted to one of the doors upstairs - you heard him climb the steps and your heart started pumping.

Even after all this time of making love to Oz, the electric rush that shot up your spine every time you saw that wild spark in his eyes- made you crazy. You quickly took your panties off and got on the gorgeous bed. The bedding was so comfortable- like a cloud.

The door opened and you saw him.

“You got some nerve, runnin’ away like that.” he said as he came close to the left side of the bed and grabbed the upper part of the dress, almost testing how easy it was to pull it off, you simply giggled at him.

How were you ever afraid of this man?

You rubbed your hand on his hard on and he gave you a shaky breath- still crazy about you.

"Wouldn't be the first time you tried to disappear." He paused, eyeing you intently, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips "Turn around."

He unzipped your dress and undressed you- gasping when he saw you weren’t wearing anything underneath. You got on your knees and helped get him undressed too- before he would always leave his clothes on, always preferring to have only you naked when you were with him. Things change.

He climbed on top of you and you welcomed him between your legs. This man- all of him, you loved him so much. He gave you the whole world. You both groaned when he entered you and set a very gentle pace while kissing your neck. You put your arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

“Tell me you’re proud of me.” He whispered in your ear

“I’m so proud of you- “ you gasped as he pressed himself even harder inside you “You’ve done so much for us-” he did it again, harder this time “And I love you” he started fucking you even harder, the feel of his greater thighs touching the underside of yours and the sound coming from your pussy were louder than your soft moans and his groans of pleasure. You squeezed his body with your legs.

“There’s-there’s-” the feeling of having him in you, while he pressed himself deeper and deeper, his body over yours as he was holding himself up on his forearms next to you- you’ll never get tired of it “There’s nothing-nothing standing in your way.”

He kissed you, putting his tongue in your mouth “You’re so beautiful, doll” He kissed all over your face as he said that and squeezed your breasts as he pounded into you. “So fucking beautiful” his eyebrows were furrowed and eyes closed, deep in thought about how you felt around him.

“Fuck- com’ here” he pulled himself out and got on his back, slowly touching the side of your body as you lowered down on his penis with your lips.

Oz wasn’t the sort of guy that enjoyed small kisses near his manhood and soft touches, if he wanted you to suck him- he wanted you to get to business.

He grabbed hold of your hair- not for dragging you up and down him but to help you. You climbed on his leg- to pleasure yourself while you’re at it, no?

Your lips enclosed around his head and as you bobbed your head up and down him you tried to breathe through your nose and help yourself with your hands. One cradling his balls and one on his penis, up and down.

His moans were like music to your ears as you pleasured him, whenever you would stop at his head and lick the underside of it, he would press himself even higher in your mouth.

“I love you, doll. I love you-” he would chant as you took him.

You rubbed yourself on his thigh as you sucked him, your legs were almost shaking.

“You take me so good- you’re such a good girl- my good girl.” This man and his words.

When you would get off of him to breathe, he would push your head down to lick his balls and then make you get up to suck him again. His grip on your hair was becoming even tighter, bringing you down on him until you almost choked and then back up again.

He would thrust up into your mouth as he got closer to his peak, chanting your name and how much he wanted to fuck you.

“I wanna fuck you so bad-” He pulled you on top of him and you gave him a giggle as you sat on top of his cock- only exciting him more.

“You wanna ride daddy baby?” it was a new nickname he enjoyed to give himself, you don’t know what changed in him, maybe the way people in society looked at you two, Oswald Cobb and his much younger woman. You nodded excitedly and grabbed his length from down below.

Fucking such a powerful man- he was the king, you should be proud of yourself.

He ran the Gotham underworld with an iron fist, everyone was afraid and respected him while also loving him too- he gave them jobs, he gave them a place to sleep- he took care of people.

“Oh, baby..” he pulled you out of your daydream as he grabbed your waist and dragged you up and down him “I wanna get you pregnant doll”

Your stomach twisted when you heard that-in a good way. You felt butterflies in your stomach and your pussy only got wetter. His eyebrows were furrowed and his groans were becoming even louder- you loved how loud he would get when he got close to cumming.

He grabbed your breast in his hand while the other held your waist- fingers gripping into the skin there and you grabbed his chest to steady yourself as you rocked yourself on him.

His fingers readjusted themselves on your body, gripping even harder this time- he would push himself into and his movements became erratic when near his climax. You smiled at Oz as you saw him gasp and hold you still.

As he held you in his big arms that night, you had a clear view of the city from the bedroom window- you couldn’t believe you were here.

After everything you had to go through- finally, maybe your parents wouldn’t be disgusted with you.

You had everything you ever needed here, with him, he was gonna keep you safe from now on.

Maybe your mom, dad and little sister were happy- their girl found herself a man who fought tooth and nail to get where he was now; his ambition never ending and his resilience like iron, he loved you, he was going to give you children and give you a life you only ever imagined in your wildest dreams.

Was he a bad man? Mayhaps, for some. His profession required him to be- but he was also sweet and kind and good. People weren’t black and white.

Your eyes were slowly closing with the soft snores of your soon to be husband lulling you to sleep.

Gotham winked at you from down below- reminding you it took you right where she wanted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's note: AHHHHH its been so much fun writing this- thank u for reading and I hope it was good. Thank you to @fat-bottom-demons because I don't think I would've been this quick in writing this big ass chapter without her nice words.

The Finale made me feel like I got punched in the throat lol. I hated Oz, like I didn't even look at the scene in order to reproduce it here in this chapter- something I usually do and poor Sofia, hope she wrecks his shit in the movie.

I wanted to keep Oz's nature of a manipulative and horrible man in this story as well- it's just that he CAN love and he can make himself vurnelable enough to love someone like he loves the reader- which he is also kinda obsessed with.

Maybe I will revisit this story- once we see what he's up to in the movie ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°)

#oz cobb #the penguin #the penguin tv #oswald cobb x reader #oz cobb x reader #the penguin hbo #oswald cobblepot #the penguin x reader #oz cobblepot #colin farrell penguin

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sodavizz · 21 hours ago

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— Christmas Won't Be The Same Without You.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Pairing: Daisuke x GN! Reader

Warnings: None, just fluff again :3

Wc: 1.3k+

Author's Note: Tadaa!! It's almost Christmas time baby! I'm super duper excited as it is already half of November!! Are you all ready to celebrate it, cause I sure am!

The snow was falling softly outside, coating the world in a blanket of white. The small town where Daisuke had grown up was quiet, the streets lined with festive lights and decorations. Inside his parents' house, however, there was nothing quiet about it. The living room was alive with the hum of Christmas music playing softly in the background, the scent of pine and cinnamon filling the air, and the soft crackle of a fire burning in the hearth. It was the perfect Christmas setting, and you were sharing it with Daisuke.

“Can you believe it?” Daisuke said, his voice full of excitement as he stood beside you in the entryway. His eyes sparkled with that familiar joy you adored. “Christmas at my parents’ house. I'm sure they're just as excited you are to meeting each other!”

You smiled at him, feeling a warmth spread through you as he took your hand, pulling you into the house. “I’m really happy to be here with you, Daisuke. This place feels so… cozy.”

His grin widened. “It’s definitely cozy. And my mom’s cooking is legendary, so get ready for some serious holiday feasting. You might not even have room for dessert by the end of the night.”

You laughed, feeling your stomach growl at the thought of what awaited. You’d heard a lot about Daisuke’s mom’s cooking, but this would be your first time tasting it. You could already smell the roast turkey and baked goods wafting from the kitchen.

The house was warm, full of life, and adorned with decorations that felt like they had been carefully placed with love. Christmas stockings hung from the mantle above the fireplace, each one bearing a name stitched in gold thread, and a grand tree stood in the corner, its branches weighed down with ornaments, tinsel, and fairy lights. The atmosphere was peaceful but bustling, with Daisuke’s parents—his mother in a festive red apron and his father pulling drinks from the fridge—filling the space with energy and laughter.

Daisuke led you to the living room where his family was already gathered. His parents, always warm and welcoming, greeted you with open arms.

“Ah, there you are, so you're the one my son keeps going on and on about!” His mother beamed as he mumbled something to her, seeming embarrassed she would expose him about that. She then stepped forward to give you a hug. “We’ve been waiting for you both. Everything’s ready for dinner, but we can always add more if you’re hungry before the big meal!”

“You must be starving after the drive!” his father added with a grin, holding out a glass of eggnog. “Don’t be shy, help yourself.”

You chuckled and accepted the drink, glancing over at Daisuke, who was practically glowing in his own way, standing close by with a proud smile.

“You must be excited to have us here,” you teased.

He nodded eagerly. “Are you kidding? I’ve been counting down the days to Christmas here with you and my family. I think I’ve spent almost every Christmas here since I was a kid, and this time it’s even better because you’re with me.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart skip a beat. There was something about being here, in the warmth of his family’s home, surrounded by love, that made everything feel like it was falling into place.

“I’m really happy to be here, too,” you said softly, meeting his gaze. “It feels so... right.”

Daisuke grinned and reached for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before turning to his parents. “I think it’s time for us to get the party started! We still need to do the Secret Santa exchange, and I’m pretty sure everyone’s excited for that.”

His mom laughed. “Oh yes, we can’t forget about that! We all got something special this year, so I hope everyone’s ready for a little holiday fun.”

Dinner was a true feast. The table was piled high with everything you could imagine—roast turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, stuffing, roasted vegetables, and an assortment of freshly baked rolls. In the center, a large cranberry sauce dish sat alongside platters of sweet potatoes and baked brussels sprouts. Daisuke’s mom had clearly outdone herself, and as you dug into your meal, you could tell that everyone was savoring each bite.

Between mouthfuls, you shared stories with Daisuke’s family, laughing and chatting about everything from your childhood traditions to more recent adventures. Daisuke’s dad was particularly fond of telling embarrassing stories about Daisuke when he was little, which had everyone in stitches. Daisuke, for his part, seemed unbothered by it all, even joining in with some of his own stories about his mischievous younger days.

But it wasn’t just the food or the laughter that made this night feel special—it was the way Daisuke kept glancing at you with that soft, affectionate look in his eyes, the way his hand would subtly brush against yours under the table, or how he’d pull you close during moments when no one was looking, as if to remind you that this was your time together.

After dinner, Daisuke insisted on taking you outside to see the backyard, which, as it turned out, had a stunning view of the town covered in snow. The Christmas lights from nearby houses reflected off the snow, creating a soft, magical glow that made the night feel like something out of a holiday movie.

“Come here,” Daisuke said, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and guiding you to the porch. “This is one of my favorite parts of Christmas—just looking out over the snow. My family used to come out here every Christmas Eve when I was younger and just… enjoy the peace.”

You stood with him, watching the snow fall gently, the cool air brushing against your skin. His presence beside you, his warmth, was enough to make everything feel even more magical.

“I never imagined I’d get to spend Christmas like this,” you murmured, leaning into him. “It’s been perfect.”

Daisuke smiled down at you, his fingers threading through yours as he pulled you a little closer. “I’ve been looking forward to this for so long, just to share it all with you. Christmas is better when you’re with the people you love, and that’s all I want for us.”

You leaned up to kiss him, the moment soft, gentle, and full of meaning. When you pulled away, Daisuke’s face was alight with happiness, his eyes sparkling.

“Merry Christmas, the most beautiful person I've ever seen,” he said softly.

You chuckled at his compliment as you stared deeply into his eyes in an, oh such affectionate way.

“Merry Christmas, Handsome,” you whispered back.

Later, as the evening drew on, everyone gathered around the tree for the Secret Santa exchange. You’d gotten Daisuke’s mom, and after some playful teasing, she opened the gift you’d picked out—a beautiful hand-knitted scarf, which she immediately wrapped around her neck with a delighted laugh. Then, Daisuke gave you your gift, a small box wrapped with care. When you opened it, you found a delicate silver bracelet with a charm that read together, a reminder of how far you’d come and how much you meant to each other.

You blinked back tears as you hugged him, your heart swelling with gratitude. “I love it, Daisuke. Thank you.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he said, his voice full of affection as he kissed your forehead. “This is just the beginning of our holiday together. I want to make this Christmas the best one yet.”

As the evening wound down, the two of you snuck off to a quiet corner of the living room, away from the laughter and chatter, to enjoy each other’s company in peace. With the soft glow of the Christmas tree lights surrounding you, Daisuke wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close.

“This is all I ever wanted,” he whispered, his voice full of love. “To be with you, here, now.”

And in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of his family, the love between you, and the gentle snowfall outside, you knew he was right. It didn’t matter where you were, as long as you were together.

“Merry Christmas, Daisuke,” you whispered, kissing him again.

“Merry Christmas,” he replied, smiling softly, his heart as full as yours.

#[★—sodavizz]#mouthwashing #daisuke x reader #daisuke mouthwashing x reader #mouthwashing daisuke #daisuke mouthwashing #can you guys tell whos my favortie hehe #i love this cutie stop

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rosieswriting · 1 day ago

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Wrapped up in you

Remus Lupin x reader

Summary: you look good and Remus is a love sick puppy

Note: pre established relationship. A bit of Jily English is not my first languaje!

Warnings: not +18 but suggestive content

Words: 1,9K

You looked good—really good. After what felt like ages of trying on clothes, nothing had felt quite right for the party at the Ravenclaw common room. But this… Merlin, you felt like the hottest person at Hogwarts

“Are you trying to kill poor Remus? Because with that outfit, you might actually do it” Lily teased, grinning as she looked you up and down. You rolled your eyes, though a satisfied smile played on your lips as you took one last look in the mirror.

Remus and you had started dating not so long ago, one month, two weeks and three days to be exactly. After years of crushing on your best friend, you had finally gotten together, thanks mostly to James and Lily who were desperate to have double dates with someone.

“You look good too, Lils” you replied smiling to the redhead “Pretty sure James is going to be drooling across the common room” you teased slightly.

She chuckled, giving you a playful nudge before opening the door. You followed her down the stairs to meet up with the Marauders in the common room, where the four of you had planned to head to the party together. As you descended, you could already hear their laughter echoing up the stairs. When you stepped into the common room, all four boys turned to look at you both.

“Lily Evans,” James announced, rising dramatically, “I vow to cherish you until the end of time because, somehow, you get even more beautiful every day.” He walked over to Lily, giving her a soft kiss.

Sirius came over with a teasing grin, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Didn’t know you could clean up this well.”

“Shut up,” you laughed, playfully nudging him off.

“I think you might’ve broken Moony” Peter said, smirking as he and Remus rose from the couch.

With a chuckle, you slipped out from Sirius’s arm and walked over to Remus, cheeks warming under his intense gaze. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again, like he couldn’t quite form words. You walked over, feeling the blush rise to your cheeks as he took in every detail—the way your hair framed your face, your lips, the curve of your smile. When you stopped in front of him, he wrapped his hands around your hips, giving a gentle squeeze as he took you in one more time.

“You’re…” he trailed off, his voice barely above a whisper as he finally managed to get out, “Merlin, you’re beautiful.”

Your eyes locked, and a shiver ran down your spine. “Thank you,” you murmured, a soft smile on your lips. The world faded for a moment, leaving just the two of you, wrapped in quiet admiration.

But Sirius, ever the charmer, had other plans. “Alright, lovebirds, are we going to crash this party, or are we just standing here staring all night?” he called, leaning against Peter with a grin.

You and Remus exchanged a chuckle, glancing at Lily and James, who were equally lost in each other. Everyone nodded, and with a shared laugh, you all began making your way out of the Gryffindor common room and toward Ravenclaw’s.

Peter and Sirius led the way, joking about how much they’d drink, while Lily and James giggled beside them, whispering in each other’s ears. You and Remus lingered behind, his hand in yours, his thumb lightly brushing over your knuckles. Every so often, you’d catch him looking over at you, his gaze warm and gentle.

“You’re quiet,” you murmured, giving his hand a light squeeze.

A flurry of thoughts raced through your mind. He’d called you beautiful, but… was he just being polite? Had he changed his mind about your outfit? Or maybe he had now realized that you actually looked bad? Had you tried to much? Was the outfit to much? Did he think you were too much? Did he-

Just as your thoughts started spiraling, he stopped, giving you a look so tender it silenced every worry. “You left me speechless, love,” he said softly, smiling in that way that made your heart stutter. “I still can’t believe we’re actually together.”

Your heart soared, and a wide smile spread across your face. This was what made you fall for him—those words, so simple yet so grounding.

“Well, you’d better believe it,” you said, a playful warmth in your tone. “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

“As if I’d ever let you,” he teased, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. As you stepped into the Ravenclaw common room, you realized you hadn’t even noticed the journey there, entirely wrapped up in each other.

The Ravenclaw common room was packed, wall to wall with seventh-years letting loose. Tables had been pushed to the corners, each stacked with bottles of Firewhisky, Butterbeer, and a random assortment of Muggle liquors someone must have smuggled in. The music pounded through the room, drawing most people to the makeshift dance floor in the center, while the more daring couples could be spotted snogging in shadowed corners. A few others leaned by the large windows, passing around enchanted cigarettes, smoke curling lazily into the air.

Sirius caught your eye from across the room, his brows raised in that mischievous way of his, and you knew exactly what he was going to say—and that you were going to say yes.

“Ready for some shots, my dearest friend?” he asked, grin wide and challenging.

“As always.” You gave him a mock salute and turned to Remus, who was watching the exchange with a knowing smile.

You wrapped your arms around Remus’ shoulders, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. There was a hint of something electric beneath it, that small thrill you always felt whenever you kissed him, no matter how many times you had. But you didn’t let it go too deep, not wanting to get lost in him when Sirius was already waiting.

“Careful, alright?” Remus murmured as you pulled back, his hand resting gently on your waist, his gaze warm but cautious.

“Yes,” you whispered with a reassuring smile, planting one last kiss on his cheek before turning back to Sirius. Remus chuckled softly, watching you go with a fond look.

The two of you weaved through the crowd, pausing here and there to greet friends and familiar faces, laughter and chatter filling the room around you. Ever since the start of the year, you and Sirius had developed a little ritual of sharing shots at every party. It had somehow strengthened your friendship, a unique bonding ritual that always left you laughing by the end of the night.

As you reached the table, Sirius uncorked a bottle of tequila with a flourish. “No jokes aside, you really do look stunning tonight,” he said, pouring two shots and giving you a genuine smile beneath all his teasing.

“Thanks, Siri,” you said, smiling back. “And I hate to boost your ego, but you’re looking pretty good yourself.”

“Oh, I know,” he smirked, flipping his hair back in a mock display of vanity. He handed you a shot glass, clinking it against yours before you both downed it in one swift gulp.

The tequila burned going down, and you both winced, making exaggerated faces of disgust. “Still awful, every time,” you laughed, shaking your head.

“Awful but worth it,” he shot back, pouring another round without waiting for you to protest. “To making terrible decisions we’ll laugh about tomorrow!”

“Cheers to that,” you replied, grinning as you took the second shot with him, already feeling the warmth of the alcohol spreading through you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Remus watching you with a soft smile, leaning casually against the wall with James and Lily. Every now and then, he’d shoot a glance your way, and you could feel the quiet affection in his gaze, even from across the room. Sirius followed your gaze and nudged your arm.

“You two are love-sick puppies” he teased, filling two cups with Butterbeer and passing one over to you with a smirk.

“We are not,” you said, shooting him a playful glare but gratefully accepting the drink. “We’re just… happy.”

Sirius chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Sure, happy. At least now the rest of us don’t have to suffer watching you two make eyes at each other from across the room, pretending it’s not obvious.”

You laughed, taking a sip. Sirius was right—after all the glances, lingering touches, and awkward silences, everyone else had caught on long before you had. You had probably been more transparent than you’d thought.

“Alright, alright, so maybe we were both a little clueless,” you admitted with a laugh. “But we’re here now, aren’t we?”

Sirius shrugged with a grin. “I suppose I’ll allow it. But really, you’ve got Remus so wrapped up, it’s a miracle he can think straight.”

You grinned and roll your eyes playfully. At some point both of you decided that one shot wasn’t enough. You left the cup on the table and start taking more shots.

“Finally!” James called, reaching out to pull you both into the mix with the rest of the students. How many shots had you have? You were not sure, but the party was going great.

Sirius threw you a wink and headed to join Peter, who was challenging some Ravenclaws to a drinking game, while you spotted Remus near the edge of the dance floor, looking a little shy but grinning at you. You stepped up to him with a smile, holding out your hand.

“Care to dance?” you asked, warmth in your voice.

Remus took your hand, pulling you close as the music picked up, and you swayed together, everything around you blurring into background noise. With his arms wrapped around you, it felt like there was no one else there. He looked down, brushing a few strands of hair from your face, his gaze soft.

“Stop looking at me like that” you slurred out, already drunk.

“I can´t when you look this hot, love” he muttered pulling you even closer to him and smirking. He had been smoking, you could smell the cigarettes when he talked.

You didn’t know what came over you. Maybe it was the alcohol coursing through your veins, or the confidence that had settled in after a few shots. Or maybe, it was just the way Remus looked at you—like you were the only person in the room, and Merlin, he was the most beautiful boy you’d ever seen. Whatever it was, you closed the small gap between you, pulling him into a kiss. This time, neither of you held back.

His hands tightened on your waist, fingers digging in like he was anchoring himself to you. You ran your hands through his hair, tugging him closer as the kiss deepened, turning messy and desperate.But you liked it. You liked him, you loved him.

After a breathless moment, you both pulled back, eyes glazed and cheeks flushed. Remus looked down at you, his lips parted as he tried to catch his breath, a dazed grin spreading across his face.

“Your dorm or mine?” you asked, breathlessly, voice filled with barely-contained excitement. There was no way you were staying at this party now.

“Mine,” he said without hesitation, his voice thick with the same intensity, his hand already tugging you towards the door. Neither of you spared a glance at your friends, who were far too drunk to notice your swift exit..

Don’t get him wrong—Remus absolutely adored your outfit. But he’d adore it even more once it was on the floor of his dorm.

#marauders era #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin #harry potter #james potter #sirius black #lily evans

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rothpie · 1 day ago

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❝INHERITANCE❞|part1

MASTERLIST -`✮´- Marriage of Convenience; JJ Maybank x Kook!Reader

Summary: The rebellious child of a noble family, the last hope, the one meant to carry on the family name. Your grandfather’s health was failing, and though you were expected to inherit everything, he had pulled away from you completely. Now, there was only one condition for you to receive his inheritance; to get your life in order, stop coming home late at night, give up drinking, and, of course his last wish—a marriage.

Warnings: kind of daddy issues, mentioning losing parent

selly's note: I'm so excited!!! hope you like it💗💗💗

Parties had always been intriguing. For some, they were an escape from life; for others, a lifestyle. They were places where you’d run into everyone you knew or didn’t know. You always hoped they’d play good music, and when you walked in, you loved that moment when most eyes turned your way. Feeling their gazes, being the center of attention, being talked about—that was power. You couldn’t live without attention. Sure, everyone enjoys a little of it, but you craved it every moment.

You loved dancing wildly, drinking, and letting loose at parties. It was one of those rare times you’d truly disconnect from everything. Laughing crazily with your friends, getting close with a guy—it thrilled you. It was as if the world were ending and you were going out with a bang. Live fast, die young, right?

You were meant to live each day like it was your last. You were here to enjoy life, and you had no intention of stopping—because you wouldn’t stop. Today could be your last day.

It wasn’t just a behavior; it was a way of life.

And you were in love with it.

The future could wait; you had more important things to do now—like being young.

You loved the label of “party monster.” Even while listening to The Weeknd, you couldn’t help but imagine yourself in the scene. You didn’t think you could live without partying—not at this point.

Most people didn’t matter much to you. Usually, you enjoyed drinking and hanging out with people your own age, soaking in the party vibes, watching people cannonball into pools, the beer pong games, seeing everyone try to drink from kegs. You loved being young.

No lie, you loved everything that came with youth—guys, the fun, the parties, sex, the yacht parties…

Even if you didn’t always prefer getting drunk, your body wasn’t exactly used to it. Strong drinks got you tipsy fast. Most times, you ended up having friends drop you off at home, or you’d wake up at some guy’s place you’d hooked up with. It didn’t matter. You never felt ashamed of one-night stands. Sex was just a part of life. And though you didn’t always like sneaking out quietly, you still did it.

Sticking around and getting emotional wasn’t your style. You hated the “What are we now?” question. You’d rather jump off a cliff than hear it.

Sometimes, though, you’d wake up at home, only to face your dad’s and grandfather’s disapproving stares. Most mornings, you’d stumble down to breakfast looking like a mess. Even after washing your face, your mascara and eyeliner would still smudge, the headache hitting hard—you looked fucked, no doubt.

But you were just a young girl who partied.

You might come home late, drink, be out most of the week, and practically treat the house like a hotel, but hey—at least you didn’t do drugs. That was an accomplishment, right?

You were just a girl.

Hanging out at the golf club didn’t interest you. You thought it was ridiculous, even though you were part of the Kook crowd. With so many things to do, golf? Really?

There was only one reason you’d stay out under the sun that long—tanning. Nothing else could keep you baking in the sun. Ever.

Most people at the golf club weren’t there for golf anyway. They’d wear their best outfits, spritz on perfume, do their makeup, and show up just to flaunt themselves. Some were hoping to score a date for the night, others looking for a potential spouse. The place was swarming with people trying to show off their wealth, a live version of a dating app. You hated it.

Waiting in line for a guy?

You wouldn’t even look at someone who wasn’t interested in you from the start. Your guy had to be loyal. Chasing other women while pursuing you? Eliminated. Eyeing three other girls in the same room as you? Out. Walking alongside you and your best friends on the same beach? All three of you would kick him to the ass.

You never needed it. Your family name was known, and everywhere you went, you stood out. You didn’t need to make yourself known or put in extra effort to catch people’s attention.

You were already valuable. The brightest jewel on the island. The shiniest diamond.

You were noticeable even on the path you walked.

Still, your love life wasn’t exactly successful. You weren’t sure if it was by choice or if the guys on the island were just idiots. Either way, you always knew most of them were after your family name—maybe to get into the company, or for the benefits it would bring to their own families. It was always a letdown.

Looking back, you were grateful. Those experiences taught you something, and you were now certain none of them were worth a second thought. Your exes were terrible. Thank goodness you hadn’t given any of them your virginity.

One had been worse than the others. But at least he was handsome—and muscular, tall… Too bad he’d left the island.

You were never treated as the “heir” they wanted. Before you were even born, they’d wished for a boy. They’d wanted you to be a son. It was insulting. But you just preferred to think of it as saying, 'Too bad, bitches—I’m a girl!'

Thank heavens.

As a kid, you always wanted a sibling. So did your parents, especially a son to carry on the family line. But when your parents plans conflicted with God’s plans, there’s no telling what might happen.

Before you could have a sibling, you lost your mother. She was in the same car as your dad, and he was the only one who survived. When he refused to remarry, you were left as the family’s only grandchild.

No, you weren’t a boy. But you were still the one they had to trust to carry on the family line. You’d take over the company someday; you’d be the boss. They’d always made that clear. They let you be a kid for a while, but the moment you hit adolescence, the serious talks started. Because of the family’s public image, they always expected you to be polite and courteous. You were, of course.

But over time, these expectations became stricter, and as you felt more pressure from your family, your need for freedom grew.

As much as you loved the party life, you’d take over the company one day. That ambition was in you—it was just a matter of time. And until then, you’d live it up.

Who said girls can’t carry on the family name?

You were living proof, like millions of women out there. You had plenty of time before taking over the company, and for now, you were enjoying the moment. Future you could deal with the future. Why would you worry now?

At this age, you and Jada and Aaliyah were way too busy partying.

It had taken days for you all to decide on a birthday dinner over a party, if we’re honest. It was Jada’s 20th. It was a big deal, and you’d discussed a lot of options. But finally, she decided on a quiet celebration with her closest friends instead of a big party.

The reason was simple.

Her family had just bought a new home, and they’d made it clear they wanted no parties for a while. Jada was on board with that anyway. She didn’t want people throwing up on her new couches or couples making out all over her place.

Besides, she realized you could manage with a small, private party of your own.

First, you’d talked about doing it on a yacht, but Jada didn’t want to risk throwing up on a boat after drinking, not to mention the fear of falling overboard while drunk. It was very much something that would happen to her. She couldn’t stay stable on anything that moved.

After a lot of back-and-forth, Aaliyah came up with the idea of a dinner. She told you both to leave the details to her and picked the spot. Jada was thrilled.

She felt like she was getting a surprise party—although she knew it’d be just the three of you and was fully aware of the plan, she still acted clueless. Even on the way there, she acted like she had no idea why or where you were going—as if it wasn’t her birthday.

But neither you nor Aaliyah broke character. You both played along as if you were headed to the yacht. It became a little game between you.

“Girl, I swear—kisses to the chef won’t cut it! I need to go back to the kitchen and fuck him. If a man cooks like this, I owe him at least ten kids,” Aaliyah said, cracking you both up. Thanks to her, you had the best seats with a full view at Figure Eight’s top restaurant—prime Instagram Story material.

As you took a sip of your white wine, Aaliyah cleared her throat. You turned to her, smiling.

“Girl, you’ve lost it. What if the chef is, like, 54?” Aaliyah scrunched her face, and you joined in, pulling a face as Jada raised an eyebrow. She seemed incredulous. She took another bite before saying anything.

“You two are fucking idiot. Hugh Jackman’s 56, and I’d get in his bed in a heartbeat. I’m ready to be his personal whore.”

She had a point. If the chef looked as good as Hugh Jackman in his fifties, maybe he deserved a look, especially considering guys your age were nothing to brag about.

But still—the idea of dating, let alone sleeping with, a guy old enough to be your dad? That made you feel pretty gross. Just thinking about it made you cringe.

It was nasty.

Unless, of course, it was Hugh Jackman. For him, you'd practically sign up to be his broodmare.

After Jada threw out her little example, the silence stretched, and she looked at both of you with a smug grin. She’d laid down her final word. Period.

Spending time with these girls? Honestly, the best.

Aaliyah, right beside you, let out a dramatic sigh, catching your and Jada’s attention. When she put her hand to her mouth and dropped her fork, the two of you exchanged puzzled, worried glances. Was something wrong? But just as you started to feel real concern, Aaliyah moved her hand and started talking. “I cannot believe I forgot to tell you!”

For a moment, you were seriously worried about her, but quickly you realized that what she’d forgotten was merely a juicy piece of gossip. Which, for the three of you, was life-or-death level serious. If it wasn’t something major, there’s no way she’d be reacting like this. You dropped your fork, grabbing your wine glass as you turned to her. Jada followed suit, shaking her head with a hint of annoyance. “Girl, you’d better mean this in a good way, or I’m throwing you over the railing. You just freaked us out.”

Aaliyah tucked her hair behind her ears, her face breaking into a huge grin. She knew she was holding gold. This might just be the gossip of the year.

After clearing her throat, she looked at the two of you with sparkling eyes. “First off, I heard this from my mom. The whole island doesn’t know yet, but soon enough, everyone will. So we’re like, one of the first. Do you realize how big this is?” Aaliyah took a deep breath, savoring your expectant stares. She was clearly pleased at how primed you both were.

If she held back any longer, you were about to discover telepathy.

“You guys know the Rodolp's, right? They have a son our age, Harry. Apparently, Mr. Rodolph has been coming home later and later, and eventually it came out—he’s cheating on Mrs. Rodolph.” Gossip-wise, you were unimpressed. Who cared about middle-aged infidelity? Cheating on your wife of forty years was just... gross.

“I can see it on your faces. Hold on. Apparently, the person he’s seeing is someone our age.” Now that was interesting.

You turned fully to her, a mischievous grin growing on your face. “Girl, you’d better give us more. I’m dying of suspense here.” Jada nodded in agreement, pointing to you as she puckered her lips. “Right on the money, babe.”

“Do you remember our last year? That term when we mostly had classes together? Biology class, with Liliana. Apparently, Mr. Rodolph is fooling around with Liliana from biology. And it gets even worse—Liliana and Harry are dating. The guy is cheating on both his wife and his son, with his son’s girlfriend.”

Aaliyah was a fucking queen.

You and Jada were on the verge of screaming. If you’d been at home, you two would’ve been shrieking your heads off, but since you were in a restaurant, you both had to clench your teeth to avoid an outburst. This scandal was going to be the talk of the town for months, and thank heavens it had come your way first.

“Damn… Double homicide.”

Leaning back with pride, Aaliyah pointed to herself, clearly reveling in her role. She looked like she’d just swept every major award.

Best Gossip in the Game.

That award was hers. She deserved it.

After that, things settled down a bit. You went back to eating as Aaliyah filled you in on the divorce proceedings, how Harry was firmly on his mom’s side, and any other spicy detail she had on the Rodolph's situation. Jada blew out her birthday candle, and you handed over your gifts—she was thrilled. With a designer bag in one hand and a diamond necklace around her neck, she struggled not to scream from excitement, kissing each of you about a thousand times.

The rest of the evening felt like the perfect girl’s night. You laughed, gossiped, had a blast—until the food was gone and the alcohol intake was way too high.

No one expected to get that drunk. You were pretty sure Aaliyah had promised to only have a little, yet you were positive she had polished off a bottle herself. Jada? She didn’t even pretend; she kept saying it was her birthday and she was entitled to it. She wasn’t wrong.

At one point, Jada even contemplated going into the kitchen to hunt down the chef. She nearly got up but couldn’t decide if she should carry her new bag or stick with her regular one. She added something about 22 or 52 looking no different in her eyes.

And you? Every moment with these girls was priceless. You were making new memories to look back on, imagining them as your kids’ honorary aunts, and then as their kids’ aunts too. Best friends for life.

None of you stopped drinking. You egged each other on, shot after shot, until you lost count.

At the end of the night—you were all completely hammered.

How you got home, who paid the bill, who drove? No clue. You opened your eyes the next morning in your own bed, with a throbbing headache. You felt as if you hadn’t had water in forty-eight hours, and your stomach was burning. You wanted to just lay down on the cool floor. Hangovers like this were the worst.

Sitting up, you reached for your phone. The group chat was lighting up with notifications. When you opened it, you saw that Jada and Aaliyah were already awake, talking about just how far things had gone last night. Jada was still going on about the chef. You’d really gone too far.

It was supposed to be a normal dinner, celebrating Jada’s 20th birthday. A night to hug each other, share some love, then go home—naturally, you’d gone way beyond that.

After reading about Aaliyah getting scolded by her mom, you set your phone back on the bed, unable to deal with more notifications with your throbbing head. You’d text them back later. As much as you loved the wild nights, you hated the mornings after.

To snap yourself out of it, you headed to the bathroom for a quick shower. You were sure you reeked of alcohol, which you absolutely despised. Smelling bad was practically the worst thing you could think of. You had to smell good, always. The shower didn’t take long, and after you got out, you brushed your teeth and went back to your room. You wrinkled your nose at the lingering smell of alcohol.

You opened the windows, threw on some casual workout clothes, and as you brushed your hair, you couldn’t help but think how much you loved being a girl. The self-care, the hair products, all the creams… how do guys even go without this stuff?

What the fuck do they even talk about? How do they survive missing out on all this?

You couldn’t. It was baffling.

Once you were done, you left your hair damp and headed out of your room.

As you were about to enter the living room, three men in suits caught your eye as they exited. Instead of finding your dad and grandfather seated as usual, you noticed your father standing by the window, gazing out over the view, while your grandfather was settled in an armchair, tapping a pen rapidly.

"Good morning," you said, hesitating slightly. Things were always tense in these situations—you were used to it. They didn’t approve of your lifestyle. They might even consider it… unbecoming. And you got it to an extent, but the tension was draining. You’d always hated it.

“More like good afternoon, dear.” Your grandfather’s voice was gentle, but you sensed the sarcasm. He wasn't pleased. Classic.

Just as you were about to respond, you saw your dad turn away from the window. He rubbed his face with his hands, his eyes settling on you with a look so intense it ignited a spark of dread in your gut.

What the fuck was going on?

“Would you like to sit down?” Your grandfather’s voice broke the gaze you held with your dad. You immediately took the seat across from him, catching a hint of a smile on his face. Yet it wasn’t warm. It was an unsettling grin, one that made you feel… uneasy.

You did not like this. Not a bit.

Your dad moved to stand between you and your grandfather, arms crossed. But now he wasn’t even looking at you.

“You never understood.” Your grandfather’s voice cut through, and your brow furrowed. You hated this strained atmosphere. You wanted to get up and leave. But you knew you wouldn’t.

"I’ve tried to help you understand; your father has tried. You’re twenty years old. What are you even living for?”

Okay, now you were officially starting to worry. Your grandfather’s tone, the whole approach—he seemed to be trying to soften the blow. And that, somehow, was even worse. Right now, you hated everything about this.

“You used to be a kid with straight As, despite those odd habits of yours. You didn’t want to go to college; we let it slide. You carry yourself with a confidence that can only come from knowing you’ll always be cushioned. No lie, it’s true.” His smirk widened as he placed the pen down on the coffee table and leaned back.

You’d rarely felt fear in your life. With your father and grandfather behind you, the family name erased any need to be afraid. Your last name was its own protection.

You’d always known that whatever happened, you’d come out fine. That’s why you’d never been scared.

But now? Now your body was nearly trembling. This wasn’t like the usual lecture about your carelessness, or how thoughtless you could be. It was always that same song and dance. But today, they’d taken it somewhere new.

You couldn’t help but be scared.

“So we expected, at the very least, that you’d learn from your mistakes. But it’s clear that’s not happening. You need something to wake you up—a push. And we’ve found one. Until you prove yourself, you won’t receive even a single percent of your inheritance.”

What?

Did he just—did he really just say you were cut off?

As if you didn’t carry the family name? As if you weren’t his grandchild? There was no one else in line for this inheritance. If he left it to your dad, it would still go to you eventually.

So, just because you were young, he was really taking away your rights? This was your birthright! What you did—it wasn’t some rebellion, wasn’t meant as a statement. You didn’t act this way because—

This was your birthright…

Your grandfather started coughing suddenly, his frail body rattling with each hack. Your father moved quickly to his side, and you got up as well. But he raised his hand to stop you both. A helper came to wheel him out of the room, his chair squeaking slightly on the floor. Watching him leave, you replayed his words in your mind, trying to make sense of it.

It was impossible. This was your birthright! How could he just strip it from you?

“You’ve gone too far,” your dad spoke, fixing you with a look that felt like a fireball about to explode. You wanted to lash out, to yell, to demand that this decision be taken back. But the words didn’t come.

“You came home last night like a disaster. Do you know how hard I had to fight to keep him from cutting off your credit cards?” He shook his head, his voice rough. “You’re going to fix this. You’re going to restore your image in his eyes, because right now, you are anything but the girl he wants you to be.” Your hands went to your wet hair, squeezing in frustration. You wished this was all a nightmare, that you were still sleeping.

“What do you want from me, Dad? Should I become some kind of church girl?” Your voice had risen without you realizing it, and you quickly quieted down. You hated feeling cornered, hated this situation, hated everyone—everything.

And those credit cards… if they were cut off, there’d be nothing left for you. And now, losing your future inheritance entirely? It was catastrophic. It wasn’t like you wanted your grandfather dead; you loved him, outdated as he was. But this felt so unfair… You hated every bit of it.

“If that’s what it takes, then yes!” Your dad’s voice snapped you back to reality, his tone so firm it reminded you of being ten years old, on the verge of crying because you hadn’t gotten your way. “Your grandfather is ready to leave the money to the government, do you understand? No—look at me. Let this sink in. Money, property, the company—everything. Fix this. He got married at twenty. It’s practically a miracle he hasn’t lost his mind with you staying out all night, bringing home God knows who. You’re going to fix this, understand?”

You found yourself nodding automatically.

The way he was using this inheritance as a punishment was disgusting. Leaving it all to the government—now that was a nightmare. You did not want that.

“Can’t you… Can’t you change his mind?” you asked, voice low. Your father gave you a look like you’d just spoken in a foreign language. He took a few quick steps forward, disbelief on his face. He was furious that you still seemed unwilling to accept this reality.

“Do I look like I haven’t tried?” His voice was hard, his expression angry. He was holding back to avoid drawing attention. Neither of you wanted this conversation getting back to your grandfather. “If you want the money, you’re going to stop spending your nights out like some fool. Yes, actually, a church girl wouldn’t be a bad idea. Hell, maybe even get married if you need to, I don’t know! Just make him happy! I’m not the one causing this mess!”

Your hands pressed against your head as you closed your eyes, feeling the weight of it all. You tried to think. Even if you did all of this, how did you know your grandfather would ever change his mind? Maybe he’d never truly approve…

When you opened your eyes to speak, you found an empty room.

Of course—your dad had left.

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jessjad · 12 hours ago

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Rightfully deceived

Chapter 4

Summary: When a marriage promise forces Y/N to step up for her younger sister, she gets something she always wanted. But when the truth comes out, her new husband Dean is not so happy about the mix-up. Will she loose it all? Or will she be surprised in the end?

Pairing: AU!Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3506

Warnings: arranged marriage, abbondanment, jealousy, unpleasent surprises and a little breakdown.

A/N: Okay, so... how do we say? Before it gets better... it gets worse. Right? All mistakes are mine! Enjoy!

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

Dean had been gone on a third business trip and this time he told Y/N that he would be gone for almost two weeks. Y/N had known that he was a busy man. After all, his reputation had preceded him. But somehow she had hoped for him to step back from it a little and spend the time with her. Turned out, she was wrong. It had really affected her, but she didn't want to show it to him.

So, she sad goodbye to him. Again. And it felt as if a piece of her heart had been broken off. A piece he did not see and that he just left lying on the ground for everyone else to walk over and step on it. She had expected resistance and irritation, but not such a cold shoulder. But Y/N just wanted to love him. Why did he not let her love him?

After Dean left Y/N started to to fully take over her position. Ellen had already included her in most things, letting Y/N decide how and what to do and everyone seemed to like the fresh air she brought with her.

She finally ordered that the men had to help carry the heavy objects. So not only did they have to carry the full pots out of the kitchen, but also the heavy tubs or washing vats for the laundry. And the men, surprisingly, didn't mind. On the contrary, they enjoyed the opportunity to flex their muscles. Sam had told her about it at some point. She tried not to change too much too quickly and received acceptance. From everyone except Cassie.

The young woman was still frosty towards her, but Y/N tried not to let it bother her to much. She would need to come around eventually. Or Dean would need to make an decision in the end. And none of them would want that. Hence Y/N always remained friendly and sometimes even tried to start a conversation with Cassie, but she always turned her down. However, she wouldn't let that deter her.

It's been almost two weeks again since Dean had left and Y/N missed him. But she started to feel more and more at home with each day. The castle was big, she had gotten lost a few times, but it exuded a cozy calm. The color of the carpets and curtains, the dark wood everywhere, it all reminded her of Dean somehow. The vast countryside, which seemed almost barren when the weather was good, also suited her husband. He also loved to ride horses and the landscape was perfect for that. It was as if his spirit was everywhere, influencing everything and giving life to everything around him. Even if he wasn't there. But maybe she was just lovesick by now.

"How are you holding up, pretty?"

Y/N snapped out of her thoughts a bit and looked over at Benny, who had just spoken to her. He took care of the horses. She stood at the horse pasture on the outside of the fence and watched Arrow and the other horses as they whiled away their time. She smiled at Benny. A friendship had developed between them.

"It get's better day by day and I actually start to love it here."

"That's good, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"But you obviously would like it more when Dean would be around, too." Benny grinned and Y/N's cheeks took on a deeper color.

"It was not fair to him, Benny. Not at all. And I understand that he's mad."

"But then why did he bring you here? If he would not at least like you, he could've just rejected you."

That was something she had told herself in the beginning too. Something she had hoped for herself. But with every passing day that hope faded.

"Maybe... he just felt pity for me."

"No, pretty. No." Benny came a little closer. "I don't believe that. That's not Dean. You see..."

Suddenly he stopped talking and his brows furrowed. She saw him look past her head and behind her and something in his eyes worried her. So Y/N turned around too, but she couldn't see anything unusual.

"What?" she turned her head back to Benny. "What did you see?"

It took a few seconds before Benny turned his attention back to Y/N.

"I... I don't know." He looked one last time at the spot he had in view, but there was nothing left to see. "But... it looked like someone was standing there... in the shadows."

An uneasy feeling spread through Y/N because she knew that Benny wouldn't joke with statements like that. So she looked behind her again and hoped it was just a mistake.

But by the end of the third week that Dean had been gone, this feeling had become her constant companion. At first she thought it was just her imagination, but after she saw for herself that someone was watching her, she realized that someone was targeting her.

In the meantime she had also told Benny about it, who hardly wanted to leave her side after her confession. At some point this alarmed Sam, who wanted to know what was going on. Even though he spent a lot of time with Millie, he never lost track of what was happening here.

So, the two men started to team up after they agreed on keeping this just between them. The only other person they told was Millie. She was still Y/N's maid and she knew that she could trust her friend. And while they tried to discreetly figure out who might be behind it, Y/N already had a strong suspicion. There was actually only one person left. Cassie.

She was currently in the kitchen, one of the few places where she felt safe, making herself some tea. Lost in thought, she didn't hear Ellen come into the kitchen and place her basket full of vegetables on the table.

"So..." Ellen made herself known and crossed her arms over her chest. "...what's going on here?"

Y/N slowly turned around, trying to look as ignorant as possible. "I do not know what you mean."

"Oh come on." Ellen snorted. "Sam and Benny rarely leave your side anymore and you're constantly looking around like you're looking for something."

That surprised Y/N and you could see it on her face. Was she really acting so conspicuously? Ellen released her arms again and came over to Y/N.

"Don't worry. The others have no idea about it. But I've been in charge here for years and I practically had to help raise Dean and Sam. The two rascals were always up to something. That's why my eyes are just a little sharper than the eyes of others." she smiled a little. "And my mind too. But don't let the men hear that."

After a nervous laugh, Y/N took a deep breath and then told Ellen everything. She knew that she could be trusted too. Besides, she probably knew the place best. She knew all the clan members and everyone trusted her. It wasn't a bad idea to have her on the observer team.

Ellen's eyes widened somewhat in shock. She would never have thought that someone here would do something like that. Y/N was about to tell the older woman her suspicions about Cassie, but it didn't come to that. Jo came running into the kitchen, a small smile on her face.

"Dean is back!" she came around to Y/N and her mother. "He just went in with his stuff and was asking for you."

The blonde young woman looked at Y/N beaming with joy and squeezed her shoulders excitedly. Of course she also noticed that Dean was rather dismissive and distant. She was now all the more happy for her friend and hoped that it meant something positive. Y/N let this affect her and, with her heart pounding slightly, made her way to her husband.

Dean was happy to finally be home again. The business trip had been strenuous and the negotiations had been long. But true to his reputation, he persevered and ultimately succeeded again. Yet another liquor deal that included him as the sole supplier. That also meant that there were more jobs and people were always looking for jobs.

As his castle slowly came into view, he could finally breathe deeply again. As much as he enjoyed traveling, he still preferred wearing things at home. His deputy, Castiel, had everything under control in Edinburgh and he could rely on him implicitly. That was quite a relief and he was grateful for it.

The sun was warm on his back and he had a small smile on his face. But the closer he got to the castle, the more the smile disappeared. At first he couldn't quite put his finger on it, but then he realized what was bothering him. His men carried washing vats and buckets of water to fill them. Instead of training or doing the manual work, they did women's work. What was going on here?

After stopping his horse in front of the castle, he dismounted and marched towards the entrance. Benny came running, but couldn't reach him. He was already in the entrance hall when Jo ran towards him. He asked for Y/N and Jo told him she would get her. He went upstairs to remove his coat and bag before going back outside to talk to Benny.

"How is everybody doing?" Dean asked and led his horse into the stable where Alex took him to rub him down.

"Everything is fine. We were just waiting for you to come home."Benny answered as he walked next to Dean. "This was the last business trip for this year, right?"

"Yes, it was." Dean came to a halt and looked serious at Benny. "What is going on here?"

Benny looked at Dean questioningly, whereupon he gestured to two of his men who were still carrying buckets of water while three maids were doing laundry.

"Oh! Yeah... Y/N has changed some things."

"Why?"

"Because... it just made sense."

And then Benny told Dean about the lamb stew incident and how there were other situations like that. But since Y/N changed that, nothing like that had happened again and the men found it a good change to exercise their muscles. And to impress the women, of course.

That surprised Dean. Especially that these changes were so well received. And even though he might not want to admit it, he saw the logic behind it and it definitely made sense.

Maybe his original annoyance wasn't appropriate after all if everyone agreed with it. And again Y/N brought drastic changes into his life. Even though he tried to stay away from it as much as possible.

"You brought a really good wife home, brother." Benny said and padded Dean's shoulder before he left him with a smile.

But that statement didn't help Dean in the slightest. The only reason he took Y/N with him in the first place was because of the way her father treated her. Even though he was still upset about the betrayal, he could still understand why Y/N had taken Helena's place. There was just too much attached to it and he even admired her courage a little bit. Still, it hadn't given Y/N's father the right to treat her like that. That too had scratched at long-forgotten memories and so he simply couldn't leave her behind. He just couldn't do it.

"Dean!" he heared a familiar voice call after him and he rolled his eyes a little.

Cassie came running down to him again, but this time he was prepared and could stop her before she could hug him again.

"Finally you're back. Have you seen what have been going on here?"

When Y/N came out of the kitchen, she saw Dean disappearing out the front door. She didn't want to keep him waiting and was already running after him when Millie caught her just in time.

"Y/N. Y/N!" the woman was calling out and Y/N stopped in her tracks.

"Yeah? What happened?" now a little alarmed she waited for her friend to speak.

"Dean is back. He just arrived ten minutes ago."

Relief spread through her that what her friend had wanted to say to her wasn't anything worse.

"Oh, I know. Jo just told me that he's back. And he was looking for me." she couldn't suppress a grin.

"Really?" Millie started to grin too. "Maybe the long distance worked some magic."

"I don't know. But I don't want to let him wait to long. It's the first time that he has ever asked for me..." and she tried not to get her hopes to high up.

She was already on her way out again when Millie stopped her again.

"Wait!" she came close to her, so that she could whisper. "Would it not be best to tell Dean... about the situation?"

Y/N had already thought of that. "I don't know yet. Let me first see why he was looking for me and then I will decide."

Millie nodded her head in agreement and Y/N made her way back to Dean. It didn't take long until she saw him, only he wasn't alone. Cassie was standing next to him again. Shouldn’t Y/N be the first to greet him back?

She slowed her pace and tried not to attract attention. The two of them talked and stood so close to each other again that Y/N's heart sank a little. And what she then heard didn't make it any better.

"She changes everything here. She messes everything up." Cassie insisted and took a step closer to Dean. "Why are you letting this happen? I would never do that."

"Cassie..."

"You could've married me. I would never do this." Cassie said and placed her hand lightly on his chest.

Dean didn't say anything to that. He didn't even try to free himself from her grasp and that really hit Y/N.

"And if you remember, Dean... I said I would take over the responsebility from Ellen. Since I was the only woman fitting for it here. Why did you have to take that away from me? From us?"

That was enough for Y/N. She didn't need to hear anything more. With quick steps she made her way back into the castle and without stopping ran up to the bedroom. Once there, she leaned against the door, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She had held herself together for so long that Cassie wouldn't let her lose her composure even now.

When she opened her eyes again, she noticed a small package on the bed. It was wrapped in dark green fabric and tied with a red bow. Had Dean brought her something from Edinburgh?

She walked towards the bed and carefully untied the bow. It was almost too pretty to unpack. She opened the fabric and lifted the lid of the box, curious to see what was hidden underneath. But as soon as she realized what it was, she wished she hadn't seen it.

On a bed of red, withered roses lay a severed head of a black cat. And it wasn't long before Y/N let out a bloodcurdling scream that could be heard throughout the castle.

When the scream itself reached Dean outside the castle, he suddenly broke away from Cassie and ran back inside. He already saw Millie in front of the stairs, who was just about to make her way up when she saw him.

"Y/N. That's Y/N!" was all she needed to say for Dean to sprint up the stairs.

"Stay here!" Dean ordered and Millie complyed.

He heard Y/N sobbing in the shared bedroom and was standing in the room just a few moments later. Y/N stood near the windows and was completely distraught. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she held a hand over her mouth to prevent any further loud noises. At first, Dean wasn't entirely sure what the problem was.

"What happened?" he asked in confusion.

With a shaking hand she pointed to the bed and then Dean also saw the small package. Weird. When he was upstairs to put his things down, it wasn't there yet. He took a few steps towards it, but immediately recognized what was inside. And if he was honest, he felt a little sick. But he still wondered what, or rather who, had put this there.

"That's... black magic." Y/N uttered in strangled words.

"What? No." Dean huffed. "That's not magic."

He didn't believe in magic and even though it was a really sick action that he wouldn't tolerate, Y/N had to calm down. He took the green cloth that lay next to the package and covered the inside.

"Then it's a threat. Which is addressed to me." Y/N said a little calmer, but still with emotion.

"Why would anyone threaten you?"

"Because you married me. That wasn't well received by everyone here."

Now Dean listened a little. "It sounds like you have some suspicions about who that might have been."

Y/N hesitated for a second. She actually didn't want to broach the subject like that, but they were now in a completely new situation. So she nodded.

"It was Cassie." she said in a firm voice.

"Oh, c'mon." Dean shook his head in disbelief. "Why would Cassie do something like that?"

"Because she wanted to marry you!" was he serious right now? "From the day you brought me here she avoided me. And she made it very clear to everyone else that she does not like me."

That made Dean a little amazed. "I know she's not necessarily easy, but she wouldn't be capable of something like that."

"You thought the same about Helena. And yet, here we are."

That left Dean a little speechless, but he didn't dwell on it.

"I don't know what's going on in your head, but it sure as hell wasn't Cassie." defended Dean the other woman again.

Dean didn't believe her. He simply sided with Cassie. That was enough. She couldn't take it anymore. For the last two months she had endured everything and never complained. His lack of interest in her and the fact that he constantly left her alone. She had endured it all, but now it was over.

"It was her! It could only have been her! I've been followed by someone lately and I..." but Dean did not really pay attention to her.

"But whoever it was, I won't tolerate that. Let's see what I can find out."

"You are not listening to me!" she almost screamed and now earned Dean's full attention.

"I try to talk to you, explain things to you and you don't listen to me! You just don't care! I tell you that it must have been Cassie because she's jealous of me and you don't believe me. Even though her behavior towards you should be proof enough."

"I do... listen..." Dean stumbled over his words, his mind trying to catch up.

And he did. He really listened to her, even if he didn't answer. At first, Dean had found it somewhat strange that Y/N had just started talking. But little by little he started to like it. Y/N talked a lot about herself. What she liked and what she didn't like. She also talked about her childhood and what memories she still carried with her. He had learned a lot about her and without meaning to, it had brought her closer to him.

"This situation isn't easy for me either. I'm giving my all here, trying to stay strong and not let myself get dragged down. I'm trying to find my way in a home that's completely unfamiliar to me, while my husband travels around the world and leaves me here alone." She let it all out.

"Hey, hey!" Dean interrupted. "I'm not just 'traveling around'. I'm making money. For all of us!"

Now Dean felt attacked. Of course it wasn't nice that he traveled so often, but it was necessary. This was how he made a living and, apart from that, he loved his work. So he wouldn't justify it.

"Do I look like I care about your money? No. I never have. But I did care about you! After the whole mess, I just wanted to make it up to you."

"But you can't! You're not Helena!" Dean replied angrily.

"I know that too! And yet you finally decided to take me with you." she fired back, causing Dean to fold his arms over his chest.

"Yeah, I should have thought about that for a minute."

But as soon as those words left his mouth, he regretted them. He didn't mean that. He saw Y/N's eyes fill with tears again and wanted to kick himself. Without another word, Y/N stormed past him to the door.

"Y/N..." he called after her, but it was useless.

The woman had already disappeared from the room without stopping or turning back.

A/N: Yeah, I'm... gonna leave it at that. See you next week! 🫣 Let me know what you think. Feedback is very much appreciated! 💜

@chriszgirl92 @elenasalvatore1 @laurensfangirlingsideblog @moonxlightsworld @muhahaha303

@stoneyggirl2 @ladysparkles78 @allthosepeopleilovetofangirlover @ninii-winchester @itsdesiree86

@foxyjwls007 @jtink27 @tommysaxes @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @aylacavebear

@suckitands33 @pillowjj @hobby27 @mischiefnevermanaged89-blog @winchesterwild78

@nikimisery @acid-spiderr @deangirl96 @lyarr24 @k-slla

@iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @stanzie @mochminnie @ettadear @globetrotter28

@leila22rogers @whimsyfinny @a-girl-who-loves-disney @goest-and-fuckest-thyself

@zepskies @star-girl-05 @tmb510 @louisianalady @deansimpalababy

@livsh20 @livya99 @whichwitchwanda @sydneyabcd @emotionsmgcbabe

@taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @deans-spinster-witch @strepsils123 @7leb-kakaw

#rightfully deceived #midevial!au #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #spn #supernatural #jensen ackles #scotish men #scotland

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phantomchick · 1 day ago

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The ending of Oshi no Ko vs The beginning (chapter 166 vs 10)

So as you can see, there's clear evidence of intentional parallels happening here. This is the aftermath of Ai's death that mirrors the aftermath of Aqua's. Aka already claimed to have the ending planned well in advance months ago so it's not a big surprise that even the ending panels of the first (not counting the prologue) and last chapters match.

And yet Oshi no Ko still falls flat despite fulfilling its promise of a revenge-tragedy.

I think the biggest problem it has is the way the last chapter tells us instead of shows us as chapter 10 did.

Yes chapter 10 also used narrative text boxes a lot, but I argue that the effect then was much more immersive.

With them being used with precision to move us through a time skip with only the most necessary information about the fall out for the characters, even the distance had the effect of doing characterisation work with Aqua describing in a narrative text box how the policemen hid the scene from Ruby but Aqua felt his mother's body going cold beneath him as they arrived - this use of the text boxes casual tone over child Aqua sitting in his dead mother's lap gave a sense of disassociation and shock to the scene.

Even the textboxes turning black to mirror Aqua's dark emotions concerning his revenge as the star in his eye turned black showed how much attention was being paid to their use.

Ruby.

Ruby felt much more real in chapter 10, her rant about the internet's callous response to Ai's murder felt real and emotionally charged. In comparison, for all she's the main subject of the last chapter, she feels like a 2d cut out of herself, barely in there for all we see her struggling through Akane's observant gaze.

She expresses her motivation to be an idol despite hardship by acknowledging that Aqua's right about idolwork being difficult and cruel but reminding him that despite the darkside of the entertainment industry, their mother 'shone' very brightly. The talk about how Ruby shines more the darker things get and how this is a good thing because it reaches out to people trapped in darkness of their own (just like her when she was a terminally ill cancer patient) is clearly meant to echo this idea.

Frankly it fails.

Ruby feels hollow.

To the point where we barely get any insight into Ruby's real feelings at all or any emotional connection with her in comparison, by 166 it's genuinely unclear whether or not she's lying even to the portrait of her dead family when she's 'alone' on her way out the door.

We don't see a conversation between her and her adoptive mother about Aqua, we don't see her talking to Akane at all. We see her grief and her success from a deified distance, just like the fans do. And it alienates us from the character.

Lies are love and she has two stars in her eyes. Just like her mother did.

I think this more than anything condemns the idol industry, she has to keep lying even to herself about her job being fun because otherwise what was all that pain and suffering and loss for?

Aqua died in a murder-suicide (shout out to Taiki for experiencing a loved one doing this twice, poor guy) to give his little sister success in a job that she has to get up at 5.30 for, devote her entire youth to and will have to quit in less than a decade. It has to matter, that she provides escapism for people who are suffering like she did, but it doesn't change the grim reality of her exploitation.

I think the lack of dialogue in the final chapter and the loss of voice for Ruby in the last few arcs mirrors the loss of agency she experiences as she becomes the ultimate idol, everyone's star.

But that doesn't change the fact that from a reader perspective it's just bad writing. Aka failed to carry his audience with him to the finish line and his messages about the idol industry were blurred by the rushed plot after the movie arc began.

If it weren't for Mengo's art hard carrying the clumsily executed story, I can honestly say that I don't think many would have read this manga all the way to the end.

#oshi no ko #spoilers #oshi no ko ending #thoughts #phantom babbles #hoshino ruby #ruby hoshino #oshi no ko meta #meta

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whosscruffylooking · 2 days ago

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Open Arms Chapter One

steve harrington x fem!reader word count : 6k Rewrite/Character Insert of Stranger Things ~1984~ This chapter takes place during Season 2 Episodes 1-5

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Another day in Hawkins. Another day of high school. Another day stuck in the same small, sleepy town you’ve known for as long as you can remember. It feels like nothing ever changes here, like every day just blurs into the next, predictable and quiet.

Every day, you wake up wishing for some kind of miracle, something that could shake things up, make life a little less ordinary. Something that could turn your world… Upside Down.

“Y/N!” your mom calls out from the kitchen, “Is Steve giving you a ride today?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Mom, seriously…when was the last time Steve drove me to school? He has a girlfriend to pick up now.”

Steve, your best friend since the first grade. To everyone else he was The Reigning King of Hawkins High. To you he was just the boy next door who reigns havoc on your life, makes everything a little more complicated whether you want it or not.

Your mom hums thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s time you found yourself a boyfriend.”

“I’m perfectly fine, thanks.”

She gives a little shrug. “I’m just saying, wouldn’t it be nice to be taken out on a date once in a while?”

“Mom,” you sigh, “please take your matchmaking somewhere else.”

She’s not wrong, though. You haven’t let yourself even think about dating anyone else since the last “almost” with Steve. Around a year ago, he’d done something reckless enough to mess up things with Nancy, and she seemed to be getting closer to Jonathan Byers. You had just gotten out of a relationship yourself.

It happens every time: he messes things up with a girl, or you’re fresh out of a breakup, and suddenly, like clockwork, you’re back in each other’s lives, circling each other. It’s as if you’re both bound to this endless cycle of almosts—falling together just to fall apart again. You know the game by heart, and you’re tired of it, tired of the late nights that never lead to anything real, the unspoken words that hang heavy in the air between you both. But still, you can’t seem to let go.

Nothing ever actually happens. You just end up crashing at each other’s houses, watching movies till you both fall asleep, or driving out to Lover’s Lake to stargaze and rant about your trainwreck love lives. But you both know what it is—and what it isn’t. The truth is, you’re bound by a history no one else could touch. Growing up together, you made the stupid decision of being a lot of each other’s firsts, and you’ve always been the one person who truly gets him. It’s a bond that runs deeper than most things in your life, yet it never seems to go anywhere beyond these stolen moments. And maybe that’s why it hurts the most—knowing he’s always right there but never fully yours.

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At school, you overhear the girls in the hallway whispering about the new guy in town. Though “guy” isn’t the word they use—they’re calling him a real man, with a muscle car to match and actual muscles to back it up. You’ve never been the type to shy away from guys, and you’ve certainly never had any trouble attracting attention. Still, something about the way they talk about him piques your curiosity, though you’d never admit it.

You notice the once-empty locker beside yours is finally in use, a few things tossed inside. You wonder briefly who claimed it. That curiosity doesn’t last long.

“Excuse me, gorgeous, but I think that’s my locker.”

You turn to find the living, breathing embodiment of the girls’ descriptions. Tall, sharp-jawed, with piercing blue eyes, and that effortless, cocky grin. You don’t even have to ask if it’s him.

“Oh—my bad,” you say, stepping aside.

“And what’s your name?” he asks, his smile unwavering.

Who does he remind you of?

“Y/N…” You try to pinpoint it, that nagging sense of familiarity.

He tosses his keys into the locker, eyes still fixed on yours, something almost playful in his gaze.

Then it hits you.

“I’m—”

“Knight Rider?” you say slyly, a smirk playing at your lips. He blushes just a little, caught off guard, and you savor the small victory.

“Well played,” he says, taking your hand into his for a confident but gentle shake.

“That’s just the beginning,” you respond, shutting your locker with a quiet click, eager to keep the mystery between you two alive.

“I hope so. I’m Billy by the way,” he replies, his voice softer now, still slightly in awe of you. There’s something in his eyes—a challenge. And you can tell, he’s baited.

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At lunch, you find yourself walking through the crowded cafeteria, scanning the room for a familiar face. As luck would have it, you bump into Nancy and Steve near the food line.

“Hey,” Steve greets, his voice laced with a hint of curiosity. “What did you think of the new guy? Total douche, right?”

You catch the look on his face, a mix of hope and something else you can’t quite place. It’s clear he’s fishing for your opinion, eager for you to agree with him.

You shrug, trying to keep your tone casual, though you can’t hide the small smirk tugging at your lips. “I mean…” Your voice comes out just a bit higher than usual, betraying your uncertainty. “He’s like the entire cast of The Outsiders wrapped up in one package.” You leave it at that, the playful jab hanging in the air between you three.

Nancy chuckles, gripping her tray closely as she looks between you and Steve. You take the opportunity to point at her, nodding toward Steve. “Looks like your girl might agree with me too.”

Nancy gasps and bursts into laughter. “I don’t know, I guess. He’s not really my type though.”

You smirk, not missing a beat. “That’s so funny, because I’m pretty sure I saw a David Hasselhoff photo in your locker just last week?”

Steve’s face falls slightly, and you catch the brief flash of disappointment in his eyes. “Oh please,” he says, his tone a bit too defensive, “he is not David Hasselhoff.”

“Knight Rider,” Nancy interjects, her eyes darting between you and Steve. You both freeze, caught off guard.

“What?” You ask, happy she sees the resemblance too.

Nancy looks back and forth between you two, realization dawning on her. “He has the car, the curls, and the mus—muscle car.”

You raise an eyebrow, teasing her. “You just said the car twice. Sure you didn’t mean another kind of muscle?”

Nancy giggles at your comment, but Steve pushes you playfully, though there’s a layer of something more in his touch—like he’s trying to keep things light but it doesn’t quite feel like it used to.

“Have I told you that I hate you?” Steve mutters under his breath, though it’s more playful than anything else.

You smile, your tone laced with the usual teasing. “All too often.”

But as you both lock eyes, something shifts. It’s not just a playful exchange anymore. The usual banter feels heavy now, the space between you both thick with unspoken words. Steve’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and you wonder if he’s feeling the same distance creeping between you two that you’ve been trying so hard to ignore. You quickly look away, forcing the feeling down as Nancy continues to laugh, unaware of the sudden tension lingering.

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You’re walking down the hall, a few steps ahead of Steve, the sounds of lockers slamming and voices all around you fading as the tension between you both hangs in the air. Every time you glance over your shoulder, his gaze is already on you—lingering, just a bit too long.

You both fall into an uneasy silence. It’s not the comfortable quiet you used to share, but something heavier. Something unspoken.

You stop for a moment, unsure of what to say. “I’ll see you in class,” you murmur, turning to leave.

But Steve’s voice stops you. “Hey,” he calls softly, his hand brushing yours as he steps into your path. His touch is warm, too warm for something so casual. His fingers linger for a split second before he pulls away, but the moment still sits between you, unresolved.

You look up, meeting his eyes. His usual cocky confidence is gone, replaced by something more vulnerable. It’s almost as if he’s waiting for you to say something, anything to break the silence.

“Steve…” You don’t know what you’re going to say. You want to say something that makes it all feel normal again, but the words feel stuck in your throat.

He opens his mouth, hesitates, then shuts it again. “Never mind.” The smile he forces doesn’t reach his eyes again. It’s strained, tight. And suddenly, you can’t look at him anymore.

Turning quickly, you walk past him, your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

From down the hall, Nancy watches the exchange, arms folded, leaning against the locker as she observes. There’s no jealousy in her gaze—she’s been there too. She knows the space between two people who care for each other but don’t know how to bridge it. She’s seen it with Jonathan, with the way they get tangled in unspoken words and moments that feel like too much, but too little at the same time. It’s just the way things go sometimes.

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*Flashback*

1 year ago

It’s a Friday afternoon, and the hallways of Hawkins High are quieter than usual. Most of the students have gone home, leaving the echoes of footsteps and lockers slamming shut. You and Steve are walking side by side, the familiar warmth of his presence at your side like it always has been—comforting, easy.

You laugh as Steve pulls an exaggerated face, trying to get you to laugh at his antics as he mimics one of the teachers. You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile spreading across your face.

“You’re such an idiot,” you tease, nudging him with your shoulder.

He bumps you back, almost knocking you into the lockers. “You love me for it,” he smirks, and there’s a hint of something else in his gaze, something unspoken that lingers between you, like a question neither of you has the courage to ask.

You roll your eyes again, but there’s no denying the way your heart skips. “Yeah, maybe,” you say, trying to brush it off. But you both know that maybe means something more.

You reach the end of the hallway, your steps slowing as the moment stretches, neither of you wanting to be the first to turn back, to end this rare, quiet time between just the two of you.

He glances over at you, his steps slowing, his voice quieter when he speaks again. “Hey, so… Bryan still around?”

You stop walking, surprised by the question, but it’s Steve, and it’s always been easy with him. “No,” you reply, shaking your head. “He’s out of the picture.”

Steve’s expression softens, a slight smile playing on his lips as if the weight of something between you two has been lifted. “Good. He never really seemed like the right guy for you.”

Your breath catches slightly at the unexpected warmth in his words, but you don’t let it show. “Yeah, well… sometimes you don’t really see things until it’s too late.”

Steve nods, looking down for a moment as if he’s trying to decide something. He looks back up at you, his usual carefree grin returning. “Well, if you’re not busy tonight, you wanna come over to my place? We can grab some takeout, watch movies… you know, normal hangout stuff.”

There’s something in his invitation that feels different this time, but you brush it off. It’s Steve. He always invites you over. You’ve done it a million times before—movies, pizza, talking about everything and nothing. It’s what you do.

“Yeah,” you agree, “sounds good.”

Steve’s eyes flicker down to your lips, then back to your eyes, his expression shifting. You feel your stomach flutter, the air between you thickening as the playful banter dies down.

You find yourself leaning in, just a bit, and you see Steve’s breath catch, the tip of his nose almost brushing yours.

But before you can get any closer, a loud bang from down the hall makes both of you snap apart like you’ve been caught.

You both step back, instantly awkward, eyes darting everywhere except at each other. The spell breaks, but the tension still lingers, heavy in the air. You glance at Steve, and his expression is unreadable—like he’s trying to hide something, or maybe it’s you who’s hiding it.

You break the silence first, a half-laugh escaping your lips. “Well… that was close.”

Steve rubs the back of his neck, looking embarrassed but also relieved. “Yeah, totally. We’re just—uh, messing around, right?”

You nod, trying to brush it off, but your heart is racing, and you know he feels it too. “Right. Just messing around.”

But neither of you says anything more. You both head in opposite directions down the hallway, still feeling the echo of what almost happened, both of you wondering if the other is thinking about it too.

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At last, it’s the day of the party. You’ve spent longer than you’d like to admit getting ready, but you’re finally happy with your look. Blue bell-bottom jeans, a tight orange top with a center zip that falls just below the line of modesty—it’s bold, but you feel good in it. Confident, even.

You arrive at the party, a mix of excitement and nerves swirling inside you. The music pulses through the house, and people are scattered, laughing and talking, their faces blurry in the haze of a dimly lit room. As much as you try to act like you don’t care, the anxiety creeps in. Funny how someone so confident can still feel out of place in a crowd.

You push through, trying to find your core group, but as you weave through the bodies, there’s really only one person you’re looking for. Steve. The one person who has always had a way of making you feel like you belong.

On your way through the crowd, you bump into Jonathan Byers. Another one of your longtime friends. You’ve all grown up together in Hawkins, so you’ve seen each other through the years—some friendships stronger than others, but still, it’s hard to forget those familiar faces.

“Jonathan!” you call out with a smile, pulling him into a quick hug. “Loving the look, very you.” You nod at his usual, low-key style—flannel and jeans. He’s always been the quiet, thoughtful one in the group, and you just want him to feel good about his understated vibe.

“I like… your shirt,” he says, his words trailing off awkwardly.

Well, at least your shirt is doing what you intended it to. Maybe just not with the target audience.

“Looking for Nancy?” you ask, hoping he’ll pick up the conversation.

“Yeah,” Jonathan responds, his hands shoved in his pockets. “I don’t really associate with anyone else here.”

You put on a mock-offended face, “Ouch.”

He immediately backpedals, realizing how it sounded. “I mean, you were gone for a while. We kinda lost touch.” His gaze drops a little, clearly uncomfortable, referring to the time when your parents separated again, and you spent some months with your mom in California. It had been a rough time for you, especially being away from Steve. You’re still not sure how you survived that.

“Well, I’m back now,” you say, brushing off the past. “Come on, join me. I’m on a mission to find Steve and Nancy.”

Jonathan nods, grateful for the company. “Alright, lead the way.”

And there he is, leaning against the wall by the kitchen, laughing at something someone said, a bottle of beer loosely held in his hand. He’s effortlessly cool as usual, but there’s something different tonight. Maybe it’s the way his eyes flicker over to Nancy every now and then, or the tightness in his posture that betrays the casual air he’s trying to maintain.

Nancy stands next to him, arms crossed, her jaw clenched in that familiar way when she’s upset—though it’s hard to say if it’s the alcohol or something else that’s fueling her frustration tonight. She’s leaning a little too heavily on the counter, her face flushed, the words she’s muttering barely audible over the noise of the party.

Steve’s smile is gone now, replaced by a more serious expression. He’s trying to keep things light, but it’s clear she’s not having it.

As you and Jonathan walk toward the kitchen, you spot Steve and Nancy in their little world, tucked away by the counter. You can hear the edge in Nancy’s voice, even from a distance, though you can’t make out the words. Jonathan follows your gaze, his brow furrowing. You can’t blame him for looking the way he does—he’s been around long enough to know the dance between Steve and Nancy.

“Is she okay?” you ask, your voice quiet, though it feels more like an automatic question than one you really expect an answer to. You’ve seen enough of this cycle to know the routine.

Jonathan glances over, shaking his head just slightly. “I don’t think so,” he says, a rare seriousness in his tone. “But you know Nancy. She’ll push through.”

You feel the knot in your stomach tighten as you watch Steve’s stance shift, his body leaning toward Nancy as if trying to reach her without crowding her, trying to give her space but also not let her slip too far away. There’s something fragile in the air, something more than just the tension between them. It’s like Steve’s holding on by a thread, and maybe Nancy is, too, but neither of them wants to admit it.

“You should probably go talk to them,” Jonathan says, glancing at you. He doesn’t know what to say either, but it’s obvious that Steve’s been trying to manage things on his own. You could step in—or let him handle it.

You glance at Jonathan again, silently debating what to do. Jonathan nudges you gently with his elbow. “You good?” he asks. You nod, taking a step forward, your voice hesitant but warm. “Hey, guys, what’s going on?” you ask, trying to break through the tension without adding to it.

Nancy shoots you a sharp look before turning away, but Steve doesn’t seem to mind. He’s got that defeated, yet resigned, look on his face as he exhales deeply. He’s trying to hide it, but the frustration is written all over him.

“Just the usual,” Steve says with a small, forced smile, looking at you.

Nancy, still with her arms crossed, shoots you a look that says more than her words do. It’s not that she’s mad at you; it’s just that she doesn’t want to be the center of attention right now. She’s not ready to have the conversation.

Jonathan stands by you, hands in his pockets, waiting for you to say something. You don’t know what the right thing is. The silence in the room is thick now.

“I’m gonna go get another drink,” Nancy slurs, her words trailing off as she pushes past Steve, who’s still trying to calm her down.

“Please don’t,” Steve says, his voice low and frustrated, but he’s too late. He sighs and chases after her, leaving you standing alone for the moment.

Not long after, a voice you’re starting to recognize from the past few days calls out from behind you.

“So if I’m Knight Rider, then who does that make you?” Billy’s voice is smooth, cocky, and unmistakable. He’s standing just a few feet away now, that grin still plastered on his face.

You turn to meet his gaze, letting a playful smile tug at the corners of your lips. You raise an eyebrow, a silent challenge in your eyes. “You’ll have to learn more about me to find out.”

He steps a little closer, eyes narrowing with amusement. “When?”

The question hangs in the air, and for a split second, you feel that old rush of excitement—the thrill of the unknown. Remembering your mom’s less-than-subtle hints this morning, you decide to play along.

“How about Wednesday night? We can go see the new Terminator movie. You look like someone who appreciates a little Arnold Schwarzenegger,” you say, testing the waters, letting a hint of flirtation slip into your voice.

Billy doesn’t hesitate, that confident grin of his widening. “It’s a date. I’ll pick you up. And…I’ve been to the gym Arnold works out in.”

You raise your hand to stop him, a slight smirk on your face. “Right…I’m sure you have. Also, I’ve seen how you drive your car. Maybe I’ll meet you there,” you tease, enjoying the playful banter.

He chuckles, stepping back, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint. “I’ll go nice and slow just for you.”

You can’t help but laugh at that, the tension between you both shifting into something lighter, something you haven’t felt in a while. But as you look past him, your eyes flicker briefly to Steve, catching him trying to pry the solo cup out of Nancy’s hand. Just as the music halts, that red solo cup and the red mystery punch within it spills all over Nancy’s white shirt.

Her face is in complete disbelief, she sways back and forth her reaction clearly slowed down by her alcohol intake.

“Screw you.”

Jonathan follows her quickly into the bathroom.

“You know,” Billy starts again, “Rumor has it that you and Harrington have quite the colorful history? Why is it that you two aren’t prom king and queen this year?”

Something in Billy’s tone instantly makes you second-guess your plans for Wednesday. His fading smirk tells you he’s noticed the flash of disdain on your face.

“What does it matter if you’re the one taking me on a date Wednesday?” you say, your voice edged with a warning. You’re feeling oddly protective over you and Harrington’s history, a past that’s none of Billy’s business.

Billy raises an eyebrow, caught off guard but intrigued. “Fair enough,” he replies, but the cocky glint in his eyes lingers, as if he’s still sizing up the situation.

Shortly after, you spot Steve storming out of the bathroom alone, Nancy nowhere in sight. His expression is tense as he heads straight for the drink station, a familiar frustration in his stride. You catch a glimpse of Jonathan making his way toward Nancy, so you turn to Billy with a polite excuse and make your way over to Steve.

“Hey, you don’t need to be drinking any more right now,” you say, noticing that Steve has downed two cups of punch in the short walk it took to reach him.

“I’ve got a pretty damn good reason to,” he mutters, his jaw tight as he opens a beer.

“Steve, you don’t have to tell me what happened, but at least think about the fact that you still have to drive home,” you warn, trying to keep your tone light.

He shrugs, avoiding your eyes. “You can drive me.”

“I never volunteered for that,” you reply, crossing your arms.

For a moment, he looks at you, really looks at you, and you can tell he’s realizing that things are different. You’re not just there to pick up his pieces anymore. You have your own life to live tonight—a party to enjoy, and maybe even boys to dance with. The weight of another round of Steve-and-Nancy drama? That’s not something you’re willing to carry this time.

“You’re right,” Steve says, setting the beer down with a sigh. “I’ll just go sit out on the porch and sober up a bit. Then I’ll head out. And I wanna make sure Nancy gets home safe.”

You give his arm a quick squeeze, silently admiring that, even in the middle of an argument, he’s still looking out for her. That is… until his gaze drifts to the front door, where he sees Jonathan helping a barely-standing Nancy out to his car.

Crap.

“Go sit on the porch. I’ll be right there,” you say quickly, hinting you’ll handle it. You rush outside to catch up with Jonathan. “You know how this looks, right?”

Jonathan gives a solemn nod. “She asked me.”

Nancy lifts her head slightly, her words slurred and muddled. “I don’t want… Steve to take me home. Not Steve. I want to see Barb’s parents. Take me to Barb’s house.”

You pause, taken aback. “Barb’s parents? Why do you want to see Barb’s parents right now?”

Jonathan stiffens, worry flickering in his eyes. “Uh, I really think I should get her home now. Maybe check on Steve too.”

Without another word, they’re off, leaving you standing in the night with a sense of unease. You know Barbara Holland was Nancy’s best friend, missing since last year. But why would she bring that up now? And why with such urgency?

You find Steve out back, leaning against the porch railing, eyes glazed with frustration and a hint of sadness.

“Steve…why would Nancy want to see Barb’s parents tonight?”

He shakes his head slowly, the alcohol clearly loosening his grip on restraint. “God, I wish I could tell you everything right now. It would make things so much easier. You’re my best friend. I tell you everything. But for the past year, I’ve been keeping so many secrets from you.”

A pit forms in your stomach. “What do you mean, Steve?”

He looks at you, eyes haunted, and whispers, “If I told you, you’d die.”

You laugh nervously, trying to shake the unease settling over you. “C’mon, it can’t be that serious.”

“There’s stuff going on around here that you have no clue about.” He reaches up, gently brushing a stray hair from your face, his fingers lingering a second longer than they should. Your heart skips, half hoping this is just the alcohol, half hoping it’s not. He always does this, walks that fine line.

His voice cracks slightly as he murmurs, “I just want to keep you safe.”

In that moment, you realize it’s not just words—it’s a plea, and you can feel the weight of something dark lurking just beyond his gaze, something he desperately wants to shield you from.

You give Steve a gentle pinch, trying to ground him. “I’m safe, Steve. I’m right here, see?”

But he only shakes his head, eyes dark with something close to dread. “Here is where it’s least safe. Those things… they’re out there.”

A chill runs down your spine. “What things, Steve?” You search his face, recognizing the unmistakable truth behind his words.

He just looks away, jaw clenched. Instinctively, your mind flashes back to last year, the disappearances of Will Byers and Barb. Then Nancy and Jonathan, vanishing for days without a word. Everyone assumed Jonathan had to hold things together while Joyce spiraled, refusing to believe her son was dead. There was even a funeral, and she still wouldn’t admit it. Then, against all logic, Will came back with no real explanation.

You remember Steve acting strangely after everything went down. He kept trying to make peace with Jonathan over the fight they got into outside the movie theater, but he dodged every question you asked about the night he went to Jonathan’s house, laughing nervously or changing the subject so fast it left you spinning. Then there was the night you found a bat in the trunk of his car—nails hammered into it like some kind of makeshift weapon. When you questioned him, he just shrugged it off, calling it a “guy thing,” and you let it go, though every instinct told you there was more to the story.

Whenever you pushed for answers, Steve would wave it off, teasing you about reading too many mysteries and spending too much time theorizing. But seeing the fear in his eyes now, the weight he’s carrying, it hits you like a punch: you were right to question everything. And he knows it, too.

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You drive Steve’s car back to his house, figuring you’ll pick up your mom’s in the morning. One night won’t matter.

Helping him up to his room, you can’t shake the strange coincidences piling up around Hawkins.

“I missed this,” he mumbles, settling onto his bed.

“What?”

“You… in my room,” he says softly, grabbing your hand. “Stay tonight. Don’t leave.”

“You have a girlfriend, Steve. I don’t stay over when you have a girlfriend.”

He sighs, eyes full of something almost desperate. “What kind of girlfriend says she isn’t really in love with you?”

You freeze. “I’m sorry—what?”

“She said we’re just… acting like we’re in love,” he says, voice rough with frustration and something else.

You can see it—the hurt he’s tried to bury, the way he’s tried so hard to be enough for someone. To finally feel wanted.

His arms slip around your waist, his head resting against your stomach, and you feel his shoulders shake. Silent tears he doesn’t want you to see.

“Hey, hey… She was drunk, okay? Everyone says stupid things when they’re drunk. Talk to her tomorrow. It’ll be fine.”

“She meant it,” he whispers, his voice breaking.

You gently push him back onto the bed, pulling the covers over him. “You’ve got a long day tomorrow, Steve. Get some rest, and we’ll figure out the Nancy thing together.”

You hate to leave him like this, but you know it’s the right thing to do. So, once again, you walk away, leaving your best friend alone with his heartbreak and the last traces of alcohol on his breath. Another turn in the endless cycle that is your friendship—always there for him, even as it pulls you back into the same, unbroken loop.

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The next day, Billy and Steve square off on the basketball court, the air thick with tension. Billy’s been taunting him non-stop, poking at Steve’s so-called “King Steve” reputation like it’s a worn-out joke. But Steve keeps his cool, mostly.

Until Billy casually drops your name.

“So tell me, Harrington,” Billy sneers with a smirk, “what made you go for the Wheeler girl over Y/N?”

Steve feels the muscles in his jaw clench, but he doesn’t take the bait. He knows better than to react. But Billy’s not done. He moves closer, a low chuckle escaping as he continues, “I mean, the King and the Princess of Hawkins High—cute match and all. But damn, man, have you seen the hips on her? Perfect for holding onto. Word is you already took her for a test drive, too. So I gotta wonder… why didn’t you ever claim her? Or maybe you just weren’t man enough?”

Steve’s control snaps. He shoves Billy hard, fire in his eyes as he stands inches from him, fists clenched. “Say one more thing about her. I dare you.”

Billy laughs, clearly enjoying himself, but there’s an edge to Steve’s stance, a fierce protectiveness that makes even Billy pause. Steve glares, his voice low and dangerous. “Y/N’s worth more than someone like you will ever know. So keep her name out of your mouth, or you’ll regret it.”

Right on cue, Nancy’s soft voice cuts through the tension. “Steve?” She stands just a few feet away, looking pale and uneasy, clearly having seen the entire thing unfold.

Billy smirks, throwing a last taunt over his shoulder. “Good luck, Harrington.” He saunters off, leaving Steve standing there, fists still clenched, his heart pounding.

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“Y/N!” your mom calls from downstairs. “Steve is here!”

Steve coming through the front door? That’s unusual—he’s always climbed the vines up to your window. You quickly spray a bit of perfume, fix your hair, then catch yourself in the mirror. Why are you even putting in effort for him?

When you come down, your mom throws you an excited smile, her back to Steve so he can’t see. She’s still holding onto that hope she’s had since first grade that you and Steve would end up together.

And then there he is, standing in the entryway with a bouquet of sunflowers—your favorite. Your heart stumbles as you take in every inch of him. For a brief second, you let yourself imagine you’re the only girl he brings flowers to. But realistically, he’s probably just coming from Nancy’s or on his way there next.

He hands you the flowers, his gaze lingering. “Thank you for everything.”

“It’s no big deal,” you say, trying to steady your voice.

“Well, I should get going,” he says, and your heart sinks. That’s it?

“But, uh, make sure to open your window. There’s a nice breeze out tonight,” he adds with a wink. You bite back a smile, catching on.

You say your goodbyes and dash up the stairs, ignoring your mom’s questions as Steve leaves. You open your window, sitting on your bed, waiting for him like you have a hundred times before. Somehow, after all these years, the excitement still feels brand new.

“Miss me?” He slips through the window, quietly so your mom doesn’t hear, and makes himself at home. He turns on your record player, the soft hum of music filling the room, then joins you on the bed.

He stares down at his hands. “I’m sorry for the position I put you in last night. It wasn’t fair, and you deserve better.”

You try to catch his gaze, but he’s clearly embarrassed. “That’s what best friends are for,” you say, hoping to ease his guilt.

You bite your tongue, unsure whether to bring up what he shared last night—but you’ve never hidden things from each other, and you don’t want to start now. “You told me about Nancy… how she said it felt like you were just acting in love.”

He sighs, defeated. “Yeah. I confronted her about it today. Asked if she could say she loved me, and she couldn’t.”

Your heart aches for him. “I’m sorry, Steve. Maybe she’s just… having a moment. A lot’s happened this year.”

The silence hangs between you for a moment, heavy with unsaid words.

“I’m gonna bring her flowers after this. I don’t think it’ll change anything, but she deserves an apology for everything I put her through,” he finally says, breaking the quiet. You smile, resting your hand on his knee. “I think that’s a good idea.”

He looks down at your hand on his knee, his fingers hovering for a moment before he covers it with his own. His expression softens, a hint of something he quickly tries to hide, but you can see it—a sadness mixed with a reluctant acceptance, like he knows exactly what all of this means.

He lets out a quiet sigh, staring at your intertwined hands. There’s a heaviness in his eyes. Like even if things with Nancy are ending, there’s something between you and him that’s never quite let go.

His fingers tighten around yours, just for a second, before he releases your hand and gives you a small, bittersweet smile.

“You should go,” you whisper. You don’t want him to. But he needs to.

He reluctantly resigns himself.

“Can I come pick you up in an hour? Maybe we can go to the movies or something?”

You know you should say no, but you can’t. “If you and Nancy aren’t making out and making up within the next hour then yes, we can go to a movie.”

He stares at you, and you can’t quite read him. You avert your gaze.

“It’s so funny,” he speaks almost as if he can’t believe himself, “No matter what…or who…I always need you.”

And with that he’s out the window and on his way to try and win back another woman.

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#strange things imagine #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington angst #steve harrington #slow burn #angst #steve harrington fic #stranger things fic #billy hargrove #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #Open Arms AU

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3amfanfiction · 1 month ago

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Simon Finds a Toy pt 2

Serial killer Simon takes you with him on his outings. How does that go? Cw: Stockholm Syndrome, period play, blood First

You watched at first.

Simon was beautiful in his brutality. You knew something was wrong with you for thinking it but it was the truth. The control he had over his body and the environment was truly astonishing. It was as if nothing could go amiss when he was watching.

It turned you on.

You weren't going to do anything about it of course. That was crossing a line. But you couldn't help how your body responded to him. It was just human nature. No one would be able to blame you.

Not that you spoke to anyone else. That was a step too far for Simon apparently. While he trusted you to leave the cabin with him, he got downright antsy if you began talking with people.

It didn't bother you as much as you would expect it to, having gotten used to only talking to Simon and Dog. The cabin had been a lonely place, isolating. Some days you wondered if being there warped who you were or if it only allowed it to flourish.

You're not sure you want to know the answer either way.

You watched as Simon worked his way through an office building. It was late, the sun having set long ago and the temperature was frigid in the evening air. You shivered from your place tucked into a little leeway near the back exit, tucking your hands further into your sleeves.

You heard the occasional low scream through the walls. Faint, only noticeable because you were actively looking for it.

That was a while ago though. It had been quiet for the last little bit which is why it surprised you so much when the door you were standing near burst open—slamming back against the wall before bouncing back, a man stumbling out in a panic before collapsing on the little concrete landing pad. You didn't say anything as he laid there and breathed, little sobs breaking through his panting as he tried to gather himself. There was blood copiously covering him and it looks like Simon has been toying with him for a while if the knife marks are anything to go by.

After a few short moments he gathered himself enough to lift his head, pushing himself to his knees slowly, clearly in pain. You must have made some sort of noise because his head whipped around towards you as he threw himself backwards, hands coming up in front of his face in protection.

Please, please no more.

You don't say anything, you can't say anything, can only watch this grown man begin to cry where he's huddled against the building, the sounds echoing softly in the night air.

He realized quickly that you weren't the monster that had been chasing him and switches gears abruptly—begging you to call the police, to help him, to get out of here. He cycles through them all rapid-fire, not giving you a chance to respond before the door slammed open again, this time much more controlled.

You saw Simon standing there, covered in thick canvas and looming like the specter he fashioned himself after. His white mask splattered with blood only increased his frightening demeanor.

The man who had been pressed to the brickwork of the building yelped and dove for you, grabbing your hand as if to tug you with him as you ran. It was kind of sweet how he was worried about leaving you behind.

You didn't say anything as Simon walks over and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, twisting a tight fist into the fabric to more easily corral him. You stood still as he began to walk back inside, dragging the whimpering man behind him. You didn't flinch as the man looked at you with a betrayed gaze.

As the door slammed you heard the quiet wind blowing through the trees again, crickets beginning to chirp after a few moments more.

\\\

You weren't talkative on the way back to the cabin.

You didn't feel particularly bad, which is what made you feel kind of bad. You didn't even want to help when that man made it outside. It was the same thing as a car passing you on the freeway. Something that was there but didn't elicit any sort of response. He was a non-entity.

Even when he grabbed you, trying to save the both of you, he didn't endear himself to you beyond a thought. You were more excited to see Simon walking through the door—looming, menacing—than the thought of the man getting away.

Isn't it a human concept to want to keep those around you safe? What does that make you then?

Simon let you stew in peace.

\\\

You didn't go with him next time or the time after that, instead choosing to stay home with Dog. He was lonely without the both of you, you told Simon, it's not fair to leave him alone for that long.

So you stayed. And you thought. And you tried to figure out what type of person you were. Did it really matter though? Deciding your placement on a scale of how 'good' you were wasn't going to change your actions. You let him die and you felt nothing about it.

Honestly, you still felt nothing about it.

\\\

Dog has two new tricks learned by the time Simon got back—stay and fetch. Well, there's about a 50% success rate on both of them so you're not quite sure if you can claim them as tricks learned just yet. But you were optimistic.

He didn't say anything when he walked in the house. Simply came over to kiss you dirty before going to wash up. You licked your lips and nearly trailed after him before you stopped yourself.

You could at least wait until the blood is gone.

\\\

"My period is ridiculously heavy this month. I don't think I've bled this badly in years," you said miserably, thunking your head down on the table. "The cramps hurt so much," whining to Simon, unable to do anything else.

He didn't say anything as he continued to clean and sharpen his hunting knives. The now familiar smell filling your brain and turning it hazy and warm. It would be a perfect day if your insides weren't trying to become your outsides in such demand. You rocked your head to the side so you could watch him, admiring how the streaming sunlight was bouncing off his face.

He was covered liberally in scars but you never found you minded much. Not even in the beginning—he'd always been handsome in your eyes. You watched, eyes at half mast while he rasp rasp rasped the blades against the whetstone, shining where it had been doused in oil. His strong fingers and thick wrists led up to his delicious forearms. Watching the tendons flex and move while he worked the blade against the stone had you shifting in your seat, prior complaints forgotten.

As he set down a completed knife and reached for the next, you found yourself blurting out, "I want to fuck your face."

Silence.

Why did you say that? Why did you say that? You were on your period, even if you wanted to you couldn't, plus you'd never said something like that bef—

"Okay."

What?

Simon put the knife back onto the towel it had been waiting on, ready to be picked back up later. He closed the oil tin and began to push away from the table before you were able to get your thoughts in line again.

"No!"

You backtracked when he looked at you, eyebrow raised, "I mean, no we can't do that. I'm bleeding right now, I don't even know why I said it."

"It doesn't bother me."

It doesn't bother me It doesn't bother me It doesn't bother me

It kept repeating in your mind, a circling echo as you mechanically removed blankets and laid out towels on the bed. Simon was stripping off his shirt but leaving his pants on, unbuttoned over his hips. He gestured impatiently when he caught you staring, prompting you to finish pulling off your bottoms. The pad you were using plopped heavily to the floor, already saturated even though you'd replaced it less than an hour ago. You ended up pulling your top off too after a moment, feeling a bit like Winnie the Pooh with a shirt on but no pants.

With a careful crawl you made your way to the center of the bed, already feeling a trail of blood making it's way down your thigh almost to the halfway point. A gasp and a clench when Simon swats at your butt as you moved past him caused the trail to gain several inches quickly.

A final shuffle and you made it to the towels, spinning around to lay on your back, watching Simon through your spread knees. Without any further delay he planted himself flat on his front, face hovering right above your cunt.

He didn't do anything but stare at it at first—watching the blood pool in the slit, filling it until the lips couldn't contain it any more before it spilled down to be collected by the towel. You're embarrassed to admit it but him just laying there looking at you is enough to begin feeling warm, the involuntary twitching of your cunt the last straw before he slid two of his fingers in to the base in one smooth movement.

You yowled at the sudden stretch.

There was practically no drag with how much you were bleeding but the stretch was still shocking. The wet squelching immediately filled the air, Simon thrusting his fingers in deeply before dragging them out, rubbing firmly along your walls as if he was trying to scoop the blood out.

You quickly began to pant, fisting the sheets below you as you struggled to keep still. Your little aborted thrusts were mostly ignored other than the grumbled, lay still. You were mostly successful until you felt as his rough fingers grazed a sensitive spot inside causing you to arch up and away involuntarily. With a snarl, Simon had you pinned down with his free arm across your pelvis—not letting you go anywhere.

Oh! That's . . . oh.

With a shocked gasp you finished, covering Simon's hand and forearm with bloody liquid, contractions doing the work of pushing out any back-pooling of blood. With a throaty groan Simon dove in—mouth first into your cunt.

"Simon!" you yelped, only just finishing the aftershocks of your orgasm. "Be gentle, please!"

If he heard you he didn't bother acknowledging it—simply continued feasting on your bloody cunt. You looked down to see something out of a murder scene. Blood was smeared all along his cheeks almost to his ears with how it was transferring to your thighs and back onto him. You were sure you'd be finding blood in his hair once this was over.

His mouth and nose were the worst of it with vivid red so thick you couldn't see the skin in some parts. He moved up to focus on your clit, his eyes glancing up at you and you jerked when you saw pools of black—his pupils completely eclipsing the iris.

He looked crazed, like the killer he was, an insane murderer who wanted to bathe in blood.

He looked as if he were smothered in decadence.

You noticed him humping the bed right before his fingers found their way inside you again, playing you like a fiddle. He was well versed in all your buttons and he quickly brought you back up to another peak.

As your breath grew shorter and whines started to fall from your lips he groaned into your folds, his rocking hips developing a frantic pace.

He came from dry humping the bed while eating you out. Your cramps having abated along with the itch under your skin. You could stay here for ages—keep him between your legs, worshiping at your center. Nothing to be done but splay out and take the pleasure as it came.

—you could ask.

You didn't get the chance before he's diving back in, ignoring your squeal at the overwhelming sensation so soon after your orgasm. He pinned you down again as you squirm, muttering about, never get to play in it, they're always screaming, tastes so good coming from you, want your cum mixed in with it.

When Simon pulled away, you looked down to check on him. You saw him holding a bloody clot, rolling it back and forth along his fingers, squishing and manipulating it—playing with this piece that had just been inside of you.

You were coming to the realization this was going to be an every month type of thing. Maybe playing in blood wasn't so bad.

\\\

Simon didn't ask you to come with him, he simply made it clear that you were welcome.

A second bag is sitting on the table, waiting to be filled, to be used. Simon ignored it and you as he stood there packing his own. He's going to the other side of the country for this outing and would be gone for close to a week.

You watched his bag fill up, items being tucked away and placed in pockets while the second bag sat there empty and flat.

He didn't say anything when you stood next to him and packed your jacket.

It was a completely uneventful trip for you.

\\\

You'd fallen into the swing of waiting by the back door, just in case, but Simon was good about keeping everyone where they should be. It seemed after the first one he was a little hesitant about leaving you alone with one of his victims. Were you a victim too? Or were you a participant at this point?

It's warmer now—not quite the full weight of summer heat but close to it. You were staring at the closed door, wondering what you would see if you opened it and walked inside. Did you even want to see anything? What did you think you'd get out of it? Maybe you were trying to punish yourself.

You already knew what Simon did. Seeing it wouldn't change anything . . . would it? You imagined how he looked when he was in complete control and your will wavers with the dangling reward. Maybe a little peek wouldn't hurt.

You hadn't taken more than two steps before the door burst open and oh, you were doing this again weren't you?

This time it was a young woman that stumbled out. She's pretty, you noticed offhandedly, even with her torn leggings, bloody nose and mascara tear-tracked face. She saw you and immediately jerked back, smart enough to know anyone standing outside a murder building probably had something to do with the murders.

Her expression wavered as you just stood there looking at her, not saying anything. More tears spilled over her lash line as she stared back, not giving an inch.

She took one step towards freedom and you yelled.

I guess that answers the participant question.

|||

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#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #thank you as always pricegouge for looking this over and helping me make it the best it could be!#idk what i would do without you 😭#everyone loves a reader who ends up giving in right?#bc i know i do

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tonycries · 6 months ago

Text

Hope They Catch Us - G.S.

Synopsis. When you’re on-screen, it’s always a rivalry to see who’s best - you just never thought that it would be the same struggle in bed.

Pairing. Actor! Gojo Satoru x Co-Star! Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rivals-to-lovers, co-stars to lovers, unprotected, oral (fem receiving) slight exhíbitionism (stuff with cameras), marking, praise, Satoru is actually down BAD, cúmplay, tabloids, lowkey fluffy at the end, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.5k

A/N. YA GIRL IS BACKKKK ;D Also happy belated three months to this blog hehehe.

Lights, Camera, Drama: Gojo Satoru and Leading Lady’s Off-Screen Feud to SINK Box Office Darling?

“They’ll Kill Each Other!” Insider Source Spills All on the Royal Rivalry Between Hollywood’s Hottest Bachelor and Bachelorette.

Enemies of The Century or Publicity Stunt? Recent Cast Outings Sets Fans Speculating!

---

You hated him. Oh, how you hated him. All because of a red-hot rivalry that had sparked ever since the two of you took the industry by storm. And everyone from Hollywood’s bigshots to your adoring fans knew that no matter where Gojo Satoru goes, you were sure to never be within a ten-mile radius.

Well, usually.

“I…shit- I’m in love with you.”

Because avoiding Gojo like a plague really isn’t saying much when said plague was currently sitting right next to you. Eyes boring into yours, signature smirk plastered on his face while he rattles off a disgustingly sweet confession - all on the set of your latest movie.

Somehow, in a cruel twist of fate, your co-star.

And to add insult to injury, this wasn’t just any movie - it was only set to be the biggest romance film of the summer. So not only did you hate to tolerate Gojo, you had to pretend to be in love with him.

Perfect. Great. Wonderful. If only the check wasn’t as tempting as it was, you think he would’ve successfully driven you to an aneurysm already. Especially considering that the scene tomorrow was-

“CUT!”

That snaps you out of your little reverie, bringing you back to the still very ongoing film shooting. You risk a glance at the disgruntled director, cheeks aching from the sappy fake smile you had to hold for this scene.

“Something wrong?” you bat your lashes deceivingly innocently. You knew exactly what was wrong. And one look at Gojo - dressed to the nines and huffing sulkily at being interrupted in the middle of his monologue - told you that he did as well.

“It just doesn’t feel real.” The director shuffles his script, voice dropping to a sigh at your confused gazes. “The spark, it doesn't feel real.”

“What?” you silently thank your years of acting for keeping your voice steady. You squirm in your seat the longer the silence stretches. This cozy little café they rented out too tight, Gojo’s fingers intertwined with yours too hot. Too soft.

“C’mon. You are in the perfect romantic set-up.” the other man gestures wearily at the café, at the dim-lighting and the proximity of your seats. “So why do you two look like you want to just- strangle each other?”

“Ooo kinky~”

It’s the first time Gojo’s spoken up since the scene was ended early and honestly that was enough to have you fulfilling the director’s suspicions.

“That.” you give him a pointed stare. “That is probably why.”

And that just draws out such an infuriatingly light chuckle from Gojo, as he sprawls all over his chair with the audacity of someone that owned this entire set. “Lighten up. You’ve told us, n’ in the next take I’ll fix it. Easy peasy.”

If only it was that “easy peasy”. The director was anything but satisfied, running a hand through his hair frustratedly. “It’s not just me, even the public is worried whether your ‘feud’ will get in the way of such intimate scenes. You-” he jabs a finger your way. “-better pretend like you want to kiss him senseless and you-” whirling now to Gojo. “-better act like you’ve wanted nothing more for years- Not to mention tomorrow’s sex scene-”

Ah, right. The sex scene.

How could you forget? It might not be a walk in the park to giggle and make heart-eyes at Gojo, but to actually pretend to have sex with him? All on camera? Curse whoever wrote this damn script. You could’ve almost laughed at the universe’s absolutely awful sense of humor if it hadn’t been for your paycheck - and the next words that tumble out of Gojo’s pretty mouth.

“We’ll ace it, you just watch.”

You hurriedly snap your eyes to meet Gojo’s, sending him a look that says “behave”, in a way that very much makes him not want to. Twinkling with such dangerous mischief that makes your stomach flip as he hums, “Or- I’ll ace it.”

God, was it a battle to remain professional. The only thing stopping you from snapping back being the way he squeezes your hand mockingly reassuringly - to which you send him a death grip back, of course.

“Oh? Care to elaborate, Mr. Gojo?” the director asks, eyes flitting between the two of you. And you can’t even laugh at the rest of the staff for almost toppling out of their seats in an attempt to hear his answer - because you are, too. Mind whirling as you lean closer, wondering just what nonsense would come out of Gojo’s mouth.

“Well, you could say…” he trails off suspensefully, like the smug bastard he is. Looking right in your eyes as he flashes an unfairly pretty smile your way. “I’m irresistible like that.”

Exactly the type of nonsense that would come out of Gojo Satoru, of course. And one glance at the director told you he was thinking the same thing. He was going to be the death of you. You can’t help but breathe out shrilly, “You fucking-”

“My apologies, director, but our leads have a scheduled interview soon. Rest assured, we will be early on set for filming tomorrow.”

You were definitely giving Nanami a raise after this.

Because if looks could kill then Gojo would be six feet under and you’d be dancing on his grace already - and you let him know. A little over twenty times, actually, as the both of you are hastily escorted away from the set for an “emergency interview”.

It was a flimsy excuse, you both knew, but Nanami hadn’t exactly felt like cleaning up a crime scene today. Instead, settling for a swift escape, the director calling out after you two to “Look like you’re gonna rip the clothes off each other tomorrow.”

Rip the clothes off each other, huh?

With the way things were going, you couldn’t be surprised if you ripped him a new-

“C’mon, sweetheart~” Gojo gets out through giggles, that familiar cackle echoing in the narrow hallway leading to your trailer. “Y’know I was just having a little fun with that ol’ man.”

He saunters unhurriedly behind your brisk pace, easily blocking the way you swing the door shut in his face. Letting it shut with such infuriatingly smooth nonchalance.

“Fun?” you scoff, jabbing an accusing finger right in the middle of his sculpted chest.“Do you even realize the mess you could’ve made?”

“Easy there, m’not insured for these pecs just yet.” Gojo clasps your hands together. Some strange little part of your skin burning at the touch in- anger? Something else? But you don’t think too hard about it, because he’s plowing on, “Besides, a little teasing never hurt anyone.”

Such a shame he was so pretty with the stupidest mouth.

“A little teasing? You practically declared to everyone in that room that we’re gonna fuck this up.” you move to pull him down by the collar instead, clearly unimpressed.

But oh you shouldn’t have done that - because he’s so close now. Too close. Hot breath fanning your face, looking so smug as he murmurs unrepentantly, “Do you?” Chuckling lightly at your little head tilt, “Do you think we’ll fuck it up?”

You clench your jaw, trying to keep it all together. “...No.”

“Exactly. We’re good then.” he winks.

“No. We’re not fucking ‘good’.” you grit out. Wondering exactly how difficult it might be to bother the director into completely recasting the male lead for the movie. Looking up at that million dollar smile and- yeah, it would be very difficult. “You’re so insufferable. I don’t know why they cast you.”

“My good looks? My charisma? The way I’m the-” he trails off with a sigh at your glare. “Well, you’re not exactly a ray of sunshine, sweetheart.”

“At least I can act and-.”

He whines dramatically, cutting off your rant. “Me too!”

This conversation was so ridiculous - but, hey, the great Gojo Satoru always did bring out the worst parts of you.

“Nuh uh.”

“Yuh uh.”

“Then why are you so stiff when acting like you’re in love with me?”

Somehow, that makes Gojo shut up. Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water - gasping out a strangled little, “B-because- well-” And if you didn’t know any better you’d say that was a light blush dusting his ears.

Only for a split-second, though, because he’s grabbing you gently by your shoulders, more seriously than you’d ever seen him. “Fine. Listen, we both want the same thing right? To have pretend-sex and ace this film to win like five Oscars?”

And maybe at the heat of his newfound proximity, maybe at the way he was looking at you so goddamn intensely - you feel something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach. Swallowing thickly, you manage to get out, “I’ll be the one winning the Oscars...but yes.”

Gojo’s gaze roams all over you - from the quirk of your eyebrow to the dress hugging you so sinfully tight. “Then we’ll do it. Ace the scene.”

Traitorously, a shiver runs down your spine. And because the universe loves to play jokes on you, Gojo notices - of course, he does. Eyes lighting up with amusement and something you really didn’t want to decipher as you blink up questioningly, “How?”

“Method acting, silly.” he rolls his eyes, as if he wasn’t implying something that wasn’t seen in even the cheesiest of romcoms. “Think of it as running lines.”

If there was ever a moment where your life flashed behind your eyes then this just might be it.

“You-” you gulp, so hot all over. “You better shut the fuck up and pray your face is insured because-”

At this, Gojo throws his head back and laughs - loud and boisterous. And usually you’d have a thing or two to say about keeping his voice down so as not to let anyone outside hear, but shit you were mesmerized. Damn, a weird little part of you kind of understood why directors loved him onscreen.

“Feisty,” he muses. “But how can I shut the fuck up when they’re second-guessing the two best actors in the game?”

“The best? Me, maybe.” you lean in closer, mouth as bitchy as ever - even when you’re so obviously crumbling bit by bit under his gaze. And he knew that. “But not you.”

“Well, only way to find out is with tomorrow’s scene, right, sweetheart?”

He drove you mad - everything from his heady cologne, to the way that overpriced button-up clung to him like second skin. But, don’t pull away - how could you? Not when he inches closer ever-so-slightly. Not when he lets those overpriced glasses slide down his nose, eyes locked so heavily on you.

Fighting to keep your words steady, “There’s nothing special about that scene, just fake moan in front of the camera, right? We don’t need any…‘method acting’.”

Gojo only raises a brow in amusement, lips curling into a grin that really makes you too aware of his little dimple by the corner. “Then why…” His eyes flicker down from his hands, searing on your shoulders, to yours - still grabbing his collar, just grazing the soft skin of his neck. Not pulling away. “...can’t you let go of me, sweetheart?”

And then you’re kissing him - or maybe he’s kissing you, you really don’t give a fuck. The only thing running through your mind being that shit this was Gojo bane-of-your-existence Satoru, and he tasted so…sweet. Like those cheap lollipops he often snuck on-set. Strawberry, you think.

But you don’t get to confirm, because suddenly he’s pulling away mere millimeters. Whispering hotly, absolutely dripping with something dangerous, “Sooo, is that a ‘yes’ to running lines?”

“Ugh, shut up.” your lips ghost his. “And just fucking kiss me.”

And, well, Gojo doesn’t have to be asked twice. Because it only takes a split second for his lips to find yours again.

Yeah, definitely strawberry lollipops.

You hadn’t filmed any of the kissing scenes just yet, but damn you didn’t expect him to be so hot and messy - like he was drunk off of you. Licking at the seam of your candied lips, groaning softly like he wanted more more more-

“Sh-shit, Goj-”

“Call me ‘Satoru’ when we’re fucking.” he cuts you off. “Or, my bad. When we’re ‘running lines’.”

Shameless. Though, you guess you weren’t any better - not as you press yourself closer running your hands all over his sinfully thin shirt, feeling every bump and curve of his abs. “You talk too much, Toru.” you hiss, muffled against his lips.

Oh that cute lil’ nickname had all the blood rushing to Satoru’s cock, you were so unfair.

“You little minx.” Like a little punishment, he’s biting down on your bottom lip, tugging lightly at your surprised squeal. “You’re gonna regret that.”

“Hmm, I doubt it.”

And then your back is hitting the couch before you can react, bouncing lightly at the sheer force. And you’re so swept up in him - the way he hovers over you, arms looping around your waist, his knee wedging between your legs - that it almost hurts for you to pull away.

“Patience.” you huff out a laugh at Satoru’s disappointed whine, eyeing those pretty pink lips mere inches away from you. You just wanted them on yours. So badly. But no, there was something more important you had to do right now. “Jus’ thought we should record our little rehearsal, whaddaya think?”

“Record it?”

“Record it.”

“Record it, hmmm?” he’s whispering, more to himself than you. Fumbling with the zipper of your dress. “So you’re sayin’ we tape it, let the camera see how pretty you look all fallin’ apart f’me.” Kissing down your neck, letting the flimsy fabric fall down, “N’ then we improve for the pretend sex. Shut all those snobby directors up by giving them the best fucking sex scene they’ve ever seen.”

“Y-yes?” you mutter, as he starts tweaking your hardened nipples through your bra, clearly having way too much fun with this. “Unless-”

“Fine by me.”

The fabric hits the floor before you even realize what’s happening. Head spinning too much from the idea of being fucked on camera - by Satoru of all people, it takes you a second to realize that this bastard fucking ripped your dress off.

“You probably broke-”

“I’ll buy you a new one.” muffled, as he kisses down your navel, blindly fumbling with his phone.

“It was expensive.”

With an impatient sigh, Satoru sets the camera up on the coffee table beside the couch. “Five new ones.” Angling it just right to perfectly capture you - in all your disheveled, horny glory, and Satoru, smugly seating himself between your thighs.

“Ready?” he asks, finger hovering over that damn red button.

Well, it’s just for rehearsal, right? Right?

“Do it.” you manage to get out, voice getting stuck in your throat at the faint ding! that rings throughout the heady room. “For my Oscars?”

“For my Oscars. N’the camera’s gonna know.”

And whatever retort on the tip of your tongue dies when he rocks his hip against yours, grinding his cock against your soaked panties. Rock-hard and so damp with precum already - so big that any and all rational thinking flies out the window.

Which is probably why you’re letting out such a pretty gasp, ‘S-Satoru, I want-“

“What?” And Satoru only flashes you a devilish grin, hands spreading your legs as far as they’d go on the couch. “This?”

He licks a long, long stripe up your inner thigh, all the way till he just meets the hem of your drenched panties. Teasing. So hot and depraved in the way he breathes in your scent.

“Oh fuck, sweetheart.” Satoru grunts, looking down in awe at the damp fabric, so flimsy and see-through with your sweet juices. You slick beading through so sloppily, just a hint of the state you were in. “You don’t know how you drive me mad.”

Rip!

He’s so fucking starved that he’s just tearing your poor panties clean off. Throwing them behind him to God-knows-where before spreading your swollen folds with his thumb, showing off just how wet you were for him.

“You’re a tease.”

“And you’re fucking addictive. Look how fuckin’ wet you are. For who, huh?” he slurs, breath hot against your cunt. Circling your entrance just barely with his fingertip, teasing you like he was addicted to those frustrated moans coming out of your pretty lips.

“S’for you-” you whine, “All for you, Satoru.”

“Exactly what I wanted to hear.”

And that’s all that needs to be said before he’s burying himself nose-deep. Drunk off your pussy as he licks long, languid movements. And it wasn’t enough - never might be, actually, because only one taste and Satoru was like a man possessed.

Bullying his tongue between your folds, just dipping into your sloppy hole in a way that had your slick smearing all over his pretty face. Letting out such deep groans that had you clenching around his hot tongue.

Shit, if you knew that this was the way to shut up the great Gojo Satoru then you would’ve done it a lot sooner. Because for one in his life, Satoru’s too entranced with something else to run his mouth, so fucking satisfied between your thighs.

“Fuck- hah- think I like you better w-when hngh- you’re like this, Toru.” you purr, breath hitching as he bullies his tongue between your folds.

Maybe you were an idiot - maybe you were a genius, because that only sets him off more.

And suddenly Satoru’s pulling your body closer onto his hot mouth, like you were weighless. Pushing himself so impossibly closer while he makes out deeper with your wet cunt.

“Ah! Hngh- Satoru-” you keen, tugging at his soft locks. As delirious as Satoru was pussydrunk. Drinking in all your cute lil’ whines of his name, angling your hips to lick all over like he couldn’t decide between fucking your sloppy hole or toying with your poor, ravaged clit.

“Mhm?” he murmurs, the vibrations making you squeal. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as lets your sweet juices slide down his throat. “Ya like this?” Stretching you out on his tongue, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Over and over- “Like when I tonguefuck your pretty pussy?”

“Ngh- love it- s’good. Ah fillin’ me up s’good.” you squeal, bucking your hips desperately into his pretty face, broken little whimpers leaving you at each rough push of Satoru’s tongue.

And oh Satoru thinks he wouldn’t mind being on his knees every day if it meant he got to taste you like this. “Tell the camera too, sweetheart. Practice how you’ll come around my tongue.”

Those words send a jolt up your spine - or maybe it was the way Satoru was sucking harshly on your clit. “F-fuck off.”

“Mhmmm, n’ this is why I’m the better actor..”

Ugh, this fucker. And with that you fight to turn your head - looking right in the camera. Feeling so fucking lewd as you let out such pornographic moans.

“Yeah- feel s’good.” you whimper, “Wanted this for so long, ever since I first saw- ngh- you-”

And shit were you so fucking evil - at least warn a guy! Because that has Satoru’s heart lurching, almost jumping up from between your legs before it hits him with a pang - ah, right, you were just quoting your character’s lines. Of course.

Well, two can play that game.

“Yeah?” he mutters into your folds. Two fingers plunging knuckle-deep in your pussy, massaging your plushy walls. Roaming around for that one spot he knows will have you falling apart so deliciously. “Can’t believe I waited s’fucking long. Y’know how hard it was to hold back? With you wearing all those slutty skirts f’me?”

Your body is jerking violently, both at his - practiced - words, and the way he was devouring you like you were his favorite meal. His favorite taste.

So eager and in-character with the way he was setting such a dizzying pace on your poor cunt. Slick trailing down from his fingers, all the way to his wrist. So sloppy and- Pressing down. Hard. “Found it.”

And you can only sit there and take it, such cute little whines of Satoru’s name leaving you as he leaves no mercy. Jaw grinding deeper and deeper, maddening. Aching as he rolls and swirls his tongue against your clit over and over. And you were so-

“Close?” Satoru’s grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Truthfully, he didn’t even have to ask - if the way you were trembling and squeezing so fucking tightly around him was anything to go by. “Go on darling. scream my name. Show off f’the camera like you do best.”

“Sh-shit. Toru- fuck yes-” you’ve got an iron-tight grip on his hair now, pulling and angling him as you pleased for more. Barely able to let out those strained lil’ moans, definitely not with the way he’s dragging your sloppy pussy all over his face. Fingers cramping up from how rough he was going - but still not stopping.

“Go on. Cum f’me.”

And then you are. Letting out such a teary, strangled moan of Satoru’s name as you cum all over his face.

And it’s not just for the camera either - because this orgasm is probably the best one you’ve had in a while. So hard that you don’t even realize you’re arching and rocking your hips into Satoru, white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. Using him.

And he doesn’t stop you. Why would he? You were so pretty falling apart all because of him. He wishes he could see this more often…

“S-Satoru.” you mewl, overstimulated. Jolting with each flick of his tongue, trying to close your legs but you can’t - he won’t let you. Greedily lapping up all your sweet juices, everything that you give him.

“Nope.” he drawls, finally pulling away, delicate strings of your slick snapping as he does. Looking so fucking drunk off of you that it makes your cunt quiver exhaustedly. “C’mon now, sweetheart, you were s’pposed to say my character’s name. S’how the scene goes.”

Oh. Shit, you got too caught up. But one look at Satoru - eyes half-lidded, hair disheveled, your juices glistening all over the bottom half of his face so prettily - tells you he was much the same.

“Well…” you huff, voice shot. “According to the script you were supposed to stuff that-” pointedly eyeing the achingly hard cock straining his pants, “-in my mouth first before eating me out. So here we are.”

With a chuckle, he rises slowly. “Touché.” Looking you straight in the eyes - and probably into your very soul - as he pops his fingers into his mouth. One by one. Groaning at the taste of your sweet sweet juices while he sucks them clean. “But I don’t think I’d last one second with those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.”

And it almost makes you want to tease him for it - one of Hollywood’s biggest It Boys but you can’t handle a lil’ blowjob? But all of that gets stuck in your throat as Satoru starts peeling off his shirt ever-so-slowly.

Shit, you think. All mouthwatering curves and dips, all the way from his toned, milky shoulders down, down, down to those neat tufts of white peeking out from the hem of his underwear. Sculpted like he was handcrafted so meticulously - a fucking masterpiece, you had to admit.

One that made you wish you took a longer look at all those shirtless magazine covers instead of throwing them out. One that had your thighs squeezing in such anticipation.

And Satoru seemed to be admiring you just the same, eyes locked on your pussy, the way it glistens and clenches around nothing - so ready for him. Distinctly aware of how pathetically needy you were being in front of the blinking camera, you crane your head to glance at it. Was it really capturing-

“Now now, first rule is to never look at the camera during this scene.” Only for Satoru to squish your cheeks together, forcing you into an embarrassing little pout as he turns you back to face him. “Look at me.”

And oh you can’t not look at him.

Especially when he tugs his pants down, just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, so fucking long and pretty. Smearing glossy precum all over his abs, flushed your favorite shade of pink, rock-hard and so so angry. Shit, he was so hard it looked like it hurt.

“Satoru…” you breathe, legs wrapping around his slutty waist to pull him closer. Only needier despite that little nagging voice wondering how the fuck you’d take his sheer size.

“Sweetheart?”

“I remember he didn’t do a lot of waiting in the script.”

And God were you right - but Satoru doesn’t think he could’ve kept this act of restraint up any longer even if you weren’t. Too impatient, too starved, his sanity dancing away from him with each second his fat cock wasn’t stuffed inside your pretty cunt.

“Mhm.” he purrs, one hand reaching down to drag his fat head up and down your slit. Heavy balls squeezing painfully at the way your lip wobbles in frustration. Up and down up and up and- “You’re right.”

And then it’s like something snaps.

Because it only takes a split-second for Satoru to start splitting you apart on his massive cock. Big fat tears pricking at your eyes at the feeling that he was pushing all the way into your lungs.

“Sh-shit, s’fuckin’ tight-” he lets out a low grunt at the slight resistance, taking everything in him to not just fuck into your snug pussy and use you like his little plaything. “You gotta hah- relax, pretty girl.”

You needed to relax more - to breathe maybe, just something. You weren’t even in the right state to wonder whether that little nickname was in the script - and God was Satoru thankful for that. Because all you can think of is how you never imagined what the bane of your existence would look with his cock stuffed in your dripping cunt - but now that you’ve seen it, you think you’ll imagine it for many lonely nights to come.

“Hey, now. Don’t get camera-shy just yet.” Satoru gives your ass a playful smack. “After all, this is only the best- part-”

Each word is punctuated with shallow, mindless little thrust to fit himself inside your dripping pussy. Such cute lil’ whines leaving your swollen lips that he really can’t help but tease you a bit. Leering down at your fucked-out face with a smirk, “Or- my bad. Forgot such a scene would be hard for a rookie.”

Oh, did he know how to press your buttons just right.

Because immediately, you’re blinking away the delirious haze in your eyes, voice so adorably shaky - but determined - as you grit out, “Bring it on, you B-list wonder.”

That’s all that has to be said before he’s finally bottoming out inside you, mercilessly. Inch by fucking inch. You gasp as his twitching balls smack your ass so lewdly, feeling his veins beat in such a slutty lil’ thump! thump! thump! against your heavenly walls.

“T-Toru- big- ngh- too fuckin’ big. M’gonna break mpf-” his lips claim yours. Partially because it’s been way too long since he’s kissed your pretty lips, and partially because Satoru might just cum right then and there if he let you run your mouth.

So he lets his hips do the talking instead.

Cooing into your mouth at each little ah! ah! ah! every time he stuffed you full of his dick, quick, experimental thrusts to try and find that one spot he knows will have you falling apart so prettily.

“Sounds so beautiful, sweetheart.” rocking his hips faster into yours. So hard you were sure he’d leave marks. “No camera in the world can pick up how fuckin’ perfect ya are. Can’t ngh- pick up those cockdrunk lil’ heart eyes.” Angling your chin just so that your sinful expression is caught on camera, “Shit do ya even know you’re doing those? Might just make me lose it for real tomorrow. Might just make me sneak you off to the dressing rooms n’-” Manicured fingers digging into your hips while he fucks you in jagged, purposeful strokes. Hitting that one spot. Hard. “Fuck you all over again.”

You flinch as he uses you like some object. Dangerously liking it more and more as he smugly hits that magical spot over and over-

And it was so sloppy - so filthy with the way Satoru still had remnants of your slick all over his lips, matching the way you were soaking his cock. Fingers moving down to draw erratic little patterns on your clit, making it even messier.

Close - too close.

So, so desperate and debauched.

“C’mon. Show the camera. Tell the camera how much you love it.”

“Ngh- f-fuck you.”

“Oh? Who’s fucking who now?” he’s laughing at your absolutely wrecked state. You can feel Satoru twitch inside you as you mumble out such delirious little praises to the camera - were they coherent sentences? You’ll never know, because the next words that fall from his lips have your mind reeling.

“God, m’addicted to you, my girl.”

“That’s not- ah- in the script, Toru.” you hiss. Close.

“I know. And neither is that.” he leaves such uncharacteristically gentle kisses down your neck. Miles away from the relentless place on your poor, abused pussy, fucking you deeper and rougher every time despite already bottoming out. “Does it have to be?”

“Th-that doesn’t ngh- make sense.” you gasp into his open mouth.

“Doesn’t have to.”

Maybe it’s the way Satoru’s panting those words against your lips. Or maybe it’s the way he’s looking right in your eyes while he says them - like it would kill him to pull away. Maybe even that fleeting little kiss he leaves against your lips.

Because before you know it, you’re cumming and cumming so hard that you wonder whether you’d make it out alive. The only thing you can do is throw your head back and take it, thighs quivering, Satoru’s names spilling from your lips in such broken little whines while he thrusts so sloppy. Once. Twice.

“Ah- this is gonna have me fallin’, huh?” And then he’s letting out such a low, muffled moan of your name, filling you up with rope after rope of his cum.

What?

It’s so messy - his cum overfilling your poor pussy, spilling out and coating his twitching balls. Shit, you can’t even worry about whether it would stain that overpriced couch below you. Not when Satoru’s whispering out sweet- lines from the script?

“Fuckin’ beautiful underneath me. Always was.” Hips still fucking into you - not even thinking at this point. “Always will be. Such a vision onscreen, sweetheart.” So thick and hot, and dribbling all the way down your legs with every movement.

And then Satoru’s lips are finding yours again, tasting so unfairly sweet while he drinks in all your cute breathless gasps. “Such a vision f’me.”

Those weren’t from the script either.

Something soft. Something scary. Something that has you looping your legs tighter around his waist, letting him collapse onto you. Pulling him closer, in fact, because now that you know the weight of his body on yours, it just felt so right.

It takes a moment of silence for you two to catch your breaths, the still rolling camera being the last thing on your minds. Neither willing to speak first, because shit Satoru might’ve gone to countless red carpets and film sets but this - you are what strips him away from all the glamor and fame. Until he was just, well, embarrassingly Satoru.

The Satoru that was now shifting shyly in your arms, trying to get up. “Uh- Hell of a way to run lines, huh? Better check the camera n’ see where to impro-”

He might be one of the biggest actors in modern Hollywood, but Satoru didn’t fool you - not one bit. So without a word, you’re tugging him back to rest against you. Heart lurching just a little bit as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. Like a little hideaway - from the camera, from the world, hell, maybe even from you.

“Y’know,” he flinches ever-so-slightly at your teasing tone, giving you a playful bite. “I have one area of suggestion and it might just be that you’re too good at ‘running lines’.”

“...Good enough to win those five Oscars?”

“No.”

“Then guess I better prove it to ya, huh? Is the camera still on, sweetheart?”

Just then, some weird little part of you thinks that, hell, maybe you don’t hate Gojo Satoru after all.

Not anymore, at least.

---

The Enemies-To-Lovers Trope of The Century?! Hollywood’s Biggest Rivals Sport Matching Hickeys (And Smiles) On-Set of Upcoming Film.

Oops! Gojo Satoru's Phone Wallpaper Accidentally Exposed: Surprise, Surprise It’s His Leading Lady! More on Page 6.

“No Comment. Though, I Have Moved Trailers. Twice.” Anonymous Manager Speaks on Latest Movie Rumors.

Director Is All Smiles As He Raves About Upcoming Romance Movie. “Hell, If I Didn’t Know Any Better I’d Say They Were Really-”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

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