#getting kids from your arch nemesis

[gaddaboutgriffon]

Yes! The comedy route doesn’t get explored enough.

Now the gossip columnist are having a field day hounding Superman, Lex, justice league members and even Lois. Speculations are flying as to whether this is a secret love affair? Have all of Lex’s schemes really been a desperate bid for attention and the villain plots are all Superman will respond to? Kon is 16 has all the fighting been the result of a messy divorce? This is the high profile relationship scandal that legendary careers are made on! No gossip writer in their right mind is going to pass it up.

Superman is wanting the days that it was just Lois chasing him for an interview. But he can use making sure new kid is ok as an excuse to quickly retreat. Lex is hating every second of this. He is not sure if being in jail would be better.

Batman and Green Arrow are the only league members showing Superman any sort of sympathy. But that is because they have had to deal with these gossip hounds in their civilian IDs enough to know some of the writers by name. They get it. Everyone else though is having fun making it worse.

He'd been flying above Metropolis.

Like a good ghost! Doing nothing but relax! Enjoying the weather, really.

It was so cool, Superman came up to him, they talked even! Superman was very, very, uncomfortable when Danny mentioned he was kinda dead.

It was really awesome.

Yeah, the keypoint being was.

Now? Now he is in Superman's arms, very much alive after being hit by a stray beam from Lex Luthors newest invention, quite literally hit from the sky when he didn't expect it and out of f reflex turned back human.

"I'm... alive?" He jokes weakly, smiling awkwardly at Superman's stare.

Danny considered this awkward.

Clark was processing the fact Lex Luthor somehow managed to bring back someone from death, his hands now full of said miracle and—

Shit, does the kid even have family left? What's he going to tell Lois!?

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC John Constantine's How To: Ghost Kids (pt.2)

[<- part 1]

"Oh, yeah," John jerks his head up like he just remembered the fact people are supposed to have names at all. He gestures to the kids, pointing to each of them as he introduces, "Daniel, Daniel, and Danielle."

This time, all three kids flip him off simultaneously. Bruce clears his throat, trying to figure out if Constantine is messing with him and, if so, in which parts. Since, so far, everything the man has said sounds like a poor attempt at pulling his leg.

"I don't think they like those," he cautiously says, and the kids whip their heads at him, nodding furiously. Bruce can't help but be just a little enamored with the way they behave.

"Of, sod off, at this point I don't care what they like," John straightens up with a dismissive, albeit weak, wave of his hands, and rubs his face, "They are menaces. Sometimes by accident, but mostly on purpose. Their grandfather thought it would be easier to handle them if they were not teenagers, and while I agreed with his reasoning at the time, I-" he glances at the kids, who all have displeased grimaces of various levels on their faces, "I have been made to reconsider. I swear that ancient bitch is laughing his ass off wherever he is now."

The kids suddenly grin. They are not very friendly, nor polite smiles - if anything, they look a bit nightmarish. An old grandfather's clock in his study makes a very loud ticking noise.

"See?" John whips his head to look at said clock, the expression on his face bordering on insane. His eye twitches.

If Bruce doesn't do anything now, he might become one of the very few people who managed to witness John Constantine, the Laughing Magician, have a meltdown. So he sighs and decides to solve the problems one at a time.

Which means that no matter how alarmed or suspicious he is, his first move would not be to interrogate either the man or the kids.

"You can sleep in one of the guest rooms, I trust you can find it on your own," he tells John, almost softly, as he catches the girl from slipping away from his lap, "Is there anything I need to know about children before you fall unconscious?"

John slumps with relief, so obviously that Bruce almost smiles. Hardships of raising - or, watching, for that matter - kids, he understands.

"Yes," he breathes out with an air of exhilaration and turns to the kids again, pointing to the middle child, "Danny is the original. He is from this dimension and timeline, that is. Dan," he turns his finger to the older boy, "is in the wrong timeline, he's Danny's future evil self redeemed into older bratty brother. Dani," he switches to the girl, "is Danny's clone, made by his arch-nemesis of a godfather. If she starts melting at any point, wake me up immediately. If any of them start floating, sprouting tentacles, speaking to walls in static, or glowing, don't."

Bruce looks down to the kids. So, definitely metas, that would explain the government trying to get them... Or, no, it wouldn't because he is fairly certain no government is going to blatantly ignore the Meta Protection Acts.

"Don't let them raise the dead, and if you give them food, make sure it doesn't have a face. If you find more than three of them, it means one of them has duplicated, don't worry, they will absorb it back later. Absolutely don't let them touch any guns," Constantine is backing down to the door as he speaks, his gaze flickering from the kids to Bruce and back every second. Like he is leaving a ticking bomb in Bruce's lap, and not three children. "Danny is, comparatively, the most responsible one, the other two are up for any dubious trouble they can get to at any moment. Oh, and their memories are wonky because of de-aging, they remember some things but not others, so if they say something particularly disturbing, it's most likely some random piece of knowledge they managed to keep."

Bruce raises an eyebrow. He did get the part about the kids being, well, abnormal in the matters of their origins, but the disjointed set of rules and advices doesn't help as much as Constantine probably thinks it does.

"Allergies, preferences, ages they were before?" He tries to get at least some more info down before John disappears through the door. Actually, maybe he should send someone to handcuff the man to the bed lest he disappears completely.

"None, but don't let them eat cutlery. Danny likes space, Dani has a thing for exploring, and Dan likes violence." The older kid stirs in Bruce's lap and says something in the direction of Constantine. No sound comes out, but the man seems to get what he's trying to say anyway, "Okay, yes, that was rude of me, sorry. Dan likes... exercise," he ends up with, and that placate the boy enough to slump down and cross his arms. John sighs, "They were seventeen, fourteen, and twenty respectively. Now," he snaps his fingers, and suddenly Bruce can hear the girl - Dani - humming a tune under her breath. So, he lifted the silence spell, it seems.

"Good fucking luck," John wishes to Bruce, earnestly, and all but vanishes away.

Bruce sighs and looks down to the kids.

"Are you hungry?" He tries, and all eyes are on him at once, attentive and unblinking.

"Fruitloops," Danny says, and while Bruce is positive that's the name for a cereal, he gets a feeling that's not what the kid meant.

[dreamsteddie]

Companion piece to my Stobin childhood friends au post because try as I might to resist it, the Steddie brain rot will take over.

Robin and Steve are thick as thieves from that first day of preschool. Their matching friendship bracelets don't fit anymore and have found homes in their "secret friendship treasure chest" which is a shoe box covered in construction paper decorations that lives under Robin's bed so Steve's parents don't throw away any of his "trash" again. They've started a tradition of making a new one for each other at the start of every year so everyone remembers they're best friends, though.

Halfway through first grade (Robin got to start school a year early like the Buckleys hoped) things are going great for Robin. She gets to bring books home from the library and their teacher complimented her drawing of a robin and she helped Steve pass his spelling test last week, so as far as she's concerned this is the best year ever.

Right up until Eddie Munson transfers to their school.

At first, Robin doesn't know that Eddie will be her arch-nemesis. When he's introduced to the class, all she really thinks about him is that he looks a little funny but seems nice. He's got really big eyes and he's taller than most of the other kids with long, gangly limbs. His hair is shaved down to his head, but there are other boys in class who are the same. He gets placed at the table group to the left of them in the chair closest to Steve's.

She very quickly forgets about him as the day continues as normal. Robin thinks math block is boring, she'd much rather read her books or play with Steve at recess but her parents said knowing your shapes is important, so she pays extra special attention. That's why she doesn't catch the little wave Steve, ever the social butterfly, gives to the boy across the way or the way Eddie's eyes go even bigger and a soft blush steals across his cheeks.

What she does notice is when Eddie comes up to them in the last few precious minutes of recess slightly sweaty and out of breath holding a little white daisy.

"Hi! I'm Eddie, I'm new!" he says, shouting really, looking directly at Steve.

"Oh, hi Eddie! I'm Steve, this is my bestest friend, Robin." Steve replies.

"Like the bird?" Eddie asks.

"Yeah! They're orange."

"And I hate orange!" Robin buts in, not willing to be left out of the conversation

"Yeah, it's really sad. They should be blue, that's Robin's favorite color." Steve says, real disappointment creeping into his voice. "Who's that for?" he asks, pointing to the forgotten daisy.

"Oh! It's for you! I was out all recess looking for the best one in the field. They kind of match your shirt!' Eddie says proudly, referencing Steve's polo with the yellow body and white sleeves. It's one of his favorites.

"Really? That's so nice, thank you!" Steve exclaims as he takes the little flower into his hands.

Robin's mom says that sometimes when you want to be someone's friend, it's good to start by giving them something nice. Robin's mom says that she should try and make more friends, maybe some girls instead of just Steve, but when Robin tries to talk to the other girls in class, she gets nervous and clams up. She thinks she might be allergic to them. Plus, why would she need more friends when she has Steve, who is worth at least three normal friends.

Steve gets along with everyone, he lends people erasers and pencils and shares his blocks with the other kids when he's allowed to bring them out of his cubby, but no one is his best friend like Robin is.

No one has ever given Steve flowers before, though. That feels like an extra special kind of gift that someone would give if they wanted to be really good friends, and Robin doesn't want that. Steve is her best friend, he doesn't need another one.

"Steve, we gotta go get in line before all the other kids! We don't want to be last!" she blurts out, grabbing Steve by the hand and dragging him across the asphalt to where the teachers are getting ready to call everyone to get in line before Eddie can catch up.

Once they've got their places, she looks back at Steve behind her to see he's turned around. She peaks her head around him and sees him smiling wide at an equally smiley Eddie who's about 5 kids behind them, each of them waving happily at each other.

Oh yeah, Robin is going to have to keep an eye on him.

[hysteria-things]

can you do another story like closer it was so good im obsessed.

MAKE UP OR MAKE OUT?

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chris x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: stopping by to give your enemy a piece of your mind doesn’t go as planned.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SUGGESTIVE, swearing, making out, ass grabbing lol

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 525

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this isn’t really like closer but also kind of is? possibly?

i was going to add onto this to make it longer and i can probably make a part two (hint hint: sub!chris, perhaps😉)

❝it’s like i’m powerful with a little bit of tender

an emotional sexual bender

mess me up, yeah, but no one does it better

there’s nothin’ better.❞

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❦ ⋆⁺₊⋆

how the fuck did this happen? is the only thought rushing through your brain at this very moment. along with the plump pair of lips moving in sync with yours.

minutes ago you were standing on your arch nemesis's doorstep, having a screaming match about whatever it was that ticked both of you off. now you're inside of his home, pushed up against the door by his weight with his tongue down your throat; the muscle intertwining sloppily with yours. chris's body is hot against your own, causing your cheeks to flush.

brunette strands of hair feel soft between your fingers, the tips of them tugging and pulling at the rest under his hood. legs starting to give out from being on your tippy toes for a long period, chris pulls away slightly. “jump.” he whispers against your lips.

obeying his order, he grips onto your ass and massages it as your legs wrap around his waist. you whimper, this new angle making the bulge poking through his jeans rub gently against your bud. your hands roam down his neck to his chest, bunching into fists at the collar of his hoodie to pull him impossibly closer.

fogginess starts to form in your head, bliss rushing to your veins. it's getting harder to breathe, the two of you panting loudly. lewd and wet sounds fill the empty house, that alone making you needier. he bites your bottom lip before pulling away to where your noses touch.

his mouth is swollen and red, your pink lipstick smeared around it. yours doesn’t look any better. “i can't stand you.” you complain.

all he does is let out a hum, looking at your mouth and leaning into where he needs you most yet again. you're like a magnet to him. “i'm not kidding.” you continue. “god, i hate you so much.”

“good.”

diving back in, he kisses you harder than before. jesus, what's wrong with you? making out with chris was not on the agenda for today, or any day for that matter.

gasping and moaning softly into his mouth, your phone starts to ring. you take it out of your pocket and answer it without looking.

you pull back to talk. “yeah, what?”

not bothering to listen to what the voice on the other end has to say, you get in a few more kisses before pulling away abruptly. “right now?” you say into the phone, pushing the boy away so you can get back on your feet. “fine. i'll be back soon.”

clearing your throat, you try to make yourself look presentable by straightening out your clothes, wiping your mouth, and fixing your hair. “i have to go.”

a mixture of shock and confusion overcomes chris's face. “you're going to leave me like this?”

glancing down, you see the raging boner between his legs. “yup.” you nod with a smile.

grabbing your bag you've thrown on the floor in the fit of rage you had when you first got here, you walk out the door and down the steps to your car without turning back. “fuck you, y/l/n!”

“maybe next time! if you're lucky!”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @stars4matt @freshsturns @sturnlcvr @tpvmz @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @bernardsbendystraws

[rafesbunny]

oops- r.c and jj 🎀

where r is sleeping with both jj and rafe and they find out

you had been sleeping around with rafe for a few months now, it was fun, exciting and it was a bonus that he would sometimes buy you gifts. although you were “just fuck buddies” you two would act like a couple, no one knew about this arrangement except the two of you, it did upset you a little bit that you couldn’t show him off. but who cares!? you were young and wanted to have fun. plus he was very easy on the eyes, so there were no complaints on your end. you know who else was extremely hot? jj maybank. so it was just fantastic that you also had the pleasures of messing around with him. your situation with the blonde was exactly the same as the one with the kook prince. there was just a little problem though, they had yet to find out about each others involvement in your life. it wasn’t your fault! it wasn’t exactly an easy conversation to have, what did people want you to say? “oh by the way i’m also fucking your arch nemesis!” so you thought it was easiest to keep it all a secret, what they didn’t know can’t hurt them. however it wouldn’t be long until they did find out.

it was the annual bonfire party, where kooks and pogues all come together to get drunk and have fun, forgetting about their differences. you were technically a kook but you didn’t believe in all that and heavily disagreed with the feud. you were friends with people from both classes, everyone on the island loved you. you were kildares sweetheart. you were bubbly and friendly and also ditsy and a bit naive. these traits only escalated when you were drinking. it was a few hours into the party, and being the animal you were you’d already had three cans of cider, four glasses of some carton cocktails and nearly a quarter bottle of vodka,to say you were waisted was an understatement. so jj took you under his wing and sat you down on a log, nursing you back to at least being able to say your own name again.

you could now semi form a full sentence, so decided you were ready to go out and mingle. jj stood opposite you, hands on your waist, “okay sweets, if you wanna go back out there do it. but just know i’m going to be by your side the whole time, okay babe?” he said gently rubbing your sides. and as you were about to turn around to go back to the other a strong familiar hand landed on your shoulder, and a voice you knew all too well spoke, “he bothering you babe?” rafe moved to stand between you and jj but you lightly shove him so he’s next to you instead, “rafe no- he was just looking after me”. jjs face showed he was nothing but confused, “babe? just a word of advice buddy, never call a girl that again if you don’t know them” with a faux brotherly hand on rafes chest, really pushing the boundaries. rafe just chuckled in amusement at jjs lack of knowledge, “thats my girl, pogue. go back to your own side of the island, okay?” jj looked at you before looking back to rafe, “nah she’s mine” now it was rafes turn to be confused. they just started at each other in silence trying to process what the other had just said, the only sounds that could be heard was the crashing of waves and distant conversations and music from the party. and also your drunken giggles. “something funny kid?” rafe questioned. “yeah something you wanna say, girlie?” jj also asked. their tone was intimidating but your giggles continued. as they stood on either side of you, you put a hand on both their chests and confessed, “you’re both my boyfriends, sillies!” with a big grin, while drunkenly and happily walking away back to the party, while rafe and jj continued to stand in silence figuring out what to do next.

[heliads]

Hey babe, if you're still taking requests, can I request something for Harry Hook from descendants? It takes place in an AU where basically all the kids are "chosen" to be parts of fairytales. (Think Ever After High mixed with School for Good and Evil). This world is complete with everything you see in disney movies with epic fights and songs. Heroes get love ballads and villains get traditional villain songs. Reader and Harry are friends (with feelings) on the isle and get chosen for a story, and are both super excited because they think they'll both be villains together. So imagine their surprise when they get their first song together and it sounds an awful lot like a love song.

This AU has been living in my head for a long time tbh but I have no writing skills T-T. Feel free to ignore it this is not your style or I accidentally sent this after requests closed.

'one story leads to another' - harry hook

masterlist

On the Isle of the Lost, a story is everything. Receiving a good story catapults a promising villain into a fantastic life of infamy, but a lackluster story seals your fate forever to menial satisfaction alone. Henchmen, not gods. Lackeys and thugs, never the criminal boss in charge.

Then again, a worse fate still could befall you. Many would-be villains go their whole lives without receiving a story. They’re not meant for everyone, at all, even if they mean the difference between a true life or a false existence. You can’t fathom training your whole life just to go without, but it’s the reality for many on your island. Even the deck swabbers get to go on exciting adventures with the great pirates of the sea, and even the lowliest prison guard will still live in a cursed palace.

The story controls your life, both literally and figuratively. Once you’re given a story, you’ll have no choice but to follow it out, even if it ends with your death. Then again, a story isn’t over in a matter of days. It’ll shape your life for decades. Even if the main plot is over, you’ll still be someone, and maybe you’ll feature in other people’s stories, too. There’s no way to make it without a story.

That’s why you’ve been throwing yourself into the pursuit of becoming the main character of your own story. You’ve perfected the arts of all things villain– sword fights that always end with you pulling a secret dagger out of a sleeve to tip the scales in your favor, maniacal laughter, elaborate plotting. You could scheme in your sleep or double-cross a traitor with your hands tied behind your back. Although it’s been a long time in the making, everyone on the Isle can admit that you’re the best of the best, and that a story surely has to be coming your way.

The problem, then, is attracting one. Although no rules are set in stone, there are expectations for how one’s story will come about. There will be an inciting event, of course, and then the songs will begin to appear in your head, the footwork and movements placed in your memories without a second thought. You’ll know you’re in the story, and then your life will change forever.

You’ve already seen one play out with some of your closest friends. Mal, one of your best friends since you were kids, got to live out her nefarious dreams, although even she didn’t see the twist coming in her story. Then again, becoming queen of Auradon is certainly a fine trophy for the child of a villain, even if a true marriage of love isn’t quite the way anyone expected her to steal the crown.

Mal has assured you many times over that your story will be coming too, it has to. There’s no way the magic would skip over you, not when you’ve dedicated so much of your life to being the perfect villain for any role. You can lie and cheat and maim with the best of them, surely you’re shaping up to be the arch nemesis in some hero’s grand journey? Your story will be coming your way. Surely. Surely.

And then, all of a sudden, it does. You feel it like a puppet knows its strings. All of a sudden, you have a purpose that you didn’t before. Your feet carry you out of the training yard and out into the sprawling mess of streets that makes up the Isle of the Lost. Your heart soars, and you take to the roofline, staring out at the world before you. It’s yours, all yours, and you know it’s true, so you sing it. The words come to you in a flash, perfect rhymes curling around your tongue as if they’d been there all your life. 

This is what it feels like to be in a story, then. It feels right, more right than anything you’ve known before. Easier than breathing. Simpler than hoping that something like this would come your way, and at last, it has. Nothing could make your flinty heart more proud.

The song ends, and you can hear a ghost of a distant chorus fading out as you make your way back to the ground once more. Your stroll is casual, but the steps are definitely in a specific direction. The last notes fade from the air, your feet stop firmly in place, and you realize that you’re not facing down a potential heist or daring escape but the end of the dock leading into the sea. Directly in front of you lies a pirate ship. 

At first, you’re thrilled– an adventure on the high seas would be fantastic. You’re friends with many of the pirates, even if you haven’t yet gotten a chance to test your fortitude against seasickness before. You cast your mind back to the words you’d just sung, trying to remember if you’d chorused anything about an exciting voyage ahead, or maybe the possibility of sunken treasure.

Instead, your heart sinks as you realize you were talking about exploring what was right in front of you. More specifically, someone right in front of you. And, as you stare with no small amount of trepidation at the pirate ship in front of you, you discover that someone else seems to be in a similar situation as you. Someone who’s just stopped singing a very similar song, who’s standing directly opposite you as if placed there by some immortal hand. Someone you know already.

Someone like Harry Hook.

A belated understanding is beginning to nestle itself between your ribs like a knife in the heart. No, this can’t be. You refuse to believe it. Still, when Harry is the first one to make a move, and walks briskly down the gangplank to stand in front of you, and says in an increasingly cavalier tone, “So, you’ve got your story started too, haven’t you?”

“Harry,” you say weakly. “I didn’t realize that you’d also gotten a song.”

“More than a song,” he says grimly. “I’ve got the whole story.”

You stare at him. “You know how it’s going to end?”

Harry had been doing his best to keep his gaze firmly pinioned on a nearby wall, but his eyes flicker briefly, traitorously, over to you when you pose the question. They snap back immediately, though. For a pirate, he’s never been the best liar, although he tends to make up for it with excellent swordsmanship. “No one knows how their story is going to end until they follow it through.”

You narrow your eyes crossly at him. “But you have a guess, don’t you? Spit it out, Hook. I don’t have all day.”

“Actually,” Harry contradicts, seeming to take great joy in the opportunity to be bothersome, “you do have all day. You’re a part of a story now, love. Your whole life is going to be wherever the wind takes you.”

You roll your eyes. “Thanks, Harry. Very helpful. Don’t try to dodge the question, though. You know how this is going to end, right?”

He sighs. “I have an inkling. Very vague. Probably untrustworthy.”

“All pirates are untrustworthy,” you remind him.

He grins broadly, sharklike. “And all children of villains are saints like you, of course.” He groans at your exasperated expression. “Fine, fine. Although I’d suggest you get better at pretending you like playing my little games if you’d like to keep this up.”

Your eyes widen. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve guessed it already, haven’t you?” Harry says testily. “Think about the songs, Y/N. The melody. That wasn’t a villainous monologue, not even your basic pledge for debauchery and ruin. That was a love song.”

You shake your head frantically. “No, Harry. That was so not right. What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well,” Harry says slowly, “I ‘spose it means we’re meant to fall in love.”

You draw back so quickly that you think you’ve insulted him. “No. Absolutely not. No offense, Harry, but I don’t want to fall in love with you.”

“I’ll try not to let it go to my head,” he says dryly.

You wave a hand dismissively. “It’s not about you, I swear. It’s just– this was supposed to be my story, you know? My whole life. I was supposed to have a glorious adventure, or engage in fantastic battles, but I get one chance at a story and it’s about falling in love? No way. I won’t accept this.”

“You’re acting like I enjoy this too,” Harry retorts. “Quite the contrary, sweetheart. You’re not the only one who’s been dreaming about their story for ages. How do you reckon I’m meant to tell my father that I got a love story? He’d laugh at me so hard he’d probably stop getting scared of that crocodile once and for all. I’m just as unhappy with this as you are, but I’m willing to do something about it.”

You eye him cautiously. “Like what?”

“Let’s play along,” he suggests, and when you look like you’re going to snap at him, he raises his hands defensively and adds hastily, “I know, I know, but hear me out, will you? The faster we get things going, the sooner this ends. You know as well as I do that characters from other stories can take part in other ones, too. ‘Sides, maybe this one isn’t just a love story. Maybe we do travel somewhere exciting, we just don’t know it yet. You don’t have to fall in love with me, alright? We can pretend. We’ll sing our songs, then do whatever we want with our hearts. Me, I’m planning to show my strength by carving mine out of my chest and wearing it as a necklace. It would make a pretty pendant, I wager. Plus, all the crew would be awestruck over it.”

You can’t help but laugh at his words. “Harry, if you cut your heart out, you’d die. If you want a necklace like that, use one of your enemies’ organs.”

He nods appreciatively. “That might work better, I think.” Then, eyeing you apprehensively, “So, does that mean you’re willing to do it? To play along with our story?”

You sigh. “I think it does. It’s not like we have any choice, do we?”

Harry pulls a face. “A girl is cosmically destined to fall in love with me, and in the heat of the moment of her confession, she says it’s because she doesn’t have any choice. Be still, my heart.”

This makes you smile. “You know it’s not personal, Harry. We’ve been friends for ages, I should hope you know when I’m teasing.”

“And I should hope the same,” he says with mock solemnity, although his faux stony demeanor cracks with a wide grin within moments.

You hold out your hand for him to shake. “To falling in love?”

“To falling in love,” he says, and shakes it. So the story begins.

You’re not going to say that it’s difficult, pretending to be in love with Harry Hook. You’ve never had an issue with his company; he’s one of your oldest friends, all of the villain kids on or around the Isle of the Lost have come in contact with each other before, and you and Harry just so happened to cross paths more than a few times. In fact, you’d go so far as to say that if you were forced to sing love songs with any of the villainous children on this island, Harry would be your preferred choice.

And– the problem with that, see, is that it makes this whole thing sound like something it isn’t. You’re not in love with Harry, even if your story seems designed to make you think otherwise. You know how you felt about him before the story began, and a couple of ditties about finding something special in a person you previously overlooked isn’t going to change anything. Harry is your friend. Nothing more than a potential ally.

But then the story takes you two away from the island for a spell, the two of you co-captaining a small sailing vessel by yourselves in search of a magical talisman that would have the power to make every one of your days enchanting. You had assumed it would be a talisman of some sort, that is; yet when the two of you arrived at the hiding place of this supposed treasure and split up to each pursue one length of a split crossroads, your paths looped around so you came face to face with each other again. 

No artifacts, no charms. Just Harry almost stumbling into you, having to wrap one arm around your waist so you don’t fall, his chest rising and falling rapidly as if he’d been running in an attempt to beat your time. You’d chastise him for it were it not for the fact that you were sprinting, too. You wait for Harry to let you go, but he doesn’t, and instead leans closer, so close you can feel his breath hot on your cheek, and then–

You pull away quickly. Harry looks at you like a wounded dog, which makes you feel sick to your stomach. “No,” you say through gritted teeth. “This isn’t– this isn’t us. It’s the story.”

“Is it really just the story?” Harry asks you.

“Yes,” you say, refusing to consider any other option for a second. “You didn’t love me before it started. The magic is messing with our minds. This isn’t real, Harry.”

He starts slowly walking towards you, and afraid you’ll make a mistake you’ll regret once the story ends, you back up in turn, up until the point when your back hits a wall and you can go no further. Harry, however, has nothing in his way but you, and there is nothing to stop him from closing the gap between you once again.

“Tell me it’s not real,” he says lowly.

“It’s not real,” you repeat.

His hand rises to your chin, tilting it up so you have to look in his eyes. He drinks in the sight of you like he’s been marooned alone for days, like salt water has been his only benediction for as long as he can remember. “Tell me,” he says again.

“It’s not,” you insist, but your conviction is gone, drifted away from you on uncertain tides. “It’s the magic. Not us.”

“Not us?” He asks, and kisses you. Slowly, terribly slowly, he kisses you, and in between silently begging him to move faster, do more, you think about all the times you’ve been under a spell in the past, and how this feels nothing like that. Not at all. Whenever you’re under an enchantment, some small part of you knows it’s wrong, giving you just enough hope that you might be able to fight free.

When you kiss Harry, though, you don’t want him to stop. Not at all. Every single particle in your body is beating along to the same erratic pulse through your veins, the one that leans into his touch, reaching for the front of his salt-stained shirt to pull him ever closer to you. If this is your story, you don’t ever want it to end. If there is a writer out there somewhere, feverishly scribbling out your chapters, you hope they never cease, that every one of their movements until the day they die and then past that will bring you more moments with Harry, moments just like this one in which you never have to let him go.

“It’s not just the story,” you tell him amidst ragged breaths when he finally breaks away.

“No?” Harry asks, one brow quirked. Usually, he’d never pass up the chance to gloat, but he looks sorely disheveled, and he can’t take his eyes off of your kissed lips long enough to give him the chance to revel in his victory like he normally would.

Just in case, though, you distract him from the triumph by kissing him again. Somewhere in the surrounding uncharted territory, the waves crash against the shore, the seabirds wheel and sing on the marine breezes, and you find the magic in the one boy who has always been there for you, and always will be, even after your story ends. That is the magic of love, you suppose. Adventures come to a close. Battles are won, heists are accomplished, but what you and Harry share will go on forever. A fitting legacy for the best two villains who ever lived.

[shogunish]

𝗹𝗮𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗿𝘆 𝗱𝗮𝘆.

pairing. pervy roommate! gojo x f! reader

genre. (implied) friends to lovers, smut

warnings. panty sniffing, gojo jacks off with reader's panties, hair-pulling, pet names (doll, love), loss of virginity, rough sex, unprotected sex, big dick gojo, choking, gojo and reader are in their late teens ok (18 - 19), fingering

words. 6k

summary. satoru always hated laundry day, but now he's quite fond of it. after all, he gets to see all your cute panties and steal a pair for his personal use.

note. i want to use his cum as a face mask and this is the result 👩🏻‍🦯

comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! <3

"Satoru, you're–"

"Handsome, intelligent, charming and funny." A smirk graces Satoru's features and he probably would've flipped his hair if it was any longer. He sends you a cheeky wink as he leans against the kitchen counter, as full of himself as ever as he strikes a pose that would make any girl swoon for him. "Yeah, I know."

Well, any girl but you.

Sometimes, you wonder why you agreed to be Satoru's roommate. Maybe it was the fact that Jujutsu dorms cost so much that you couldn't handle the finances on your own and like the snake in Adam and Eve's garden, Satoru seduced you into this hilarious arrangement.

"I've got the money," he said.

"It'll be fun," he said.

A sigh slips your lips and if it weren't for the laundry basket in your hands, you would've put your palm to your head. This man is the sole cause of all your headaches. "You're doing the laundry today."

And with an echoing smack, you drop the laundry basket in front of his feet with your infamous are-you-kidding-me look.

"Again?!" Satoru pouts as he begrudgingly picks up the basket of dirty laundry and glares at the clothes like they're his sworn enemy, his arch nemesis. "I did them like two weeks ago, right? This counts as roommate abuse, I'm certain!" Is that a whine you hear in his voice?

Crossing your arms over one another, you pop your hip to the side and raise a fine eyebrow at your stupidly handsome roommate. "And I did them last week. It's your turn now, Satoru," your voice is stern as you bend over slightly in an accusing way. "While I signed up to deal with your chaotic ass, you signed up to do the laundry every two weeks!"

The daggers your eyes throw at Satoru make him think twice about dishing out another smart comment, but he can't help it. He thinks you're cute when you glare at him like this, hands on your hips and the hint of your cleavage blessing his Six Eyes. It's the only reason why he winds you up like this.

"Whoa there! If you keep glowering like this, you'll get wrinkles!," Satoru snickers as he dashes into the bathroom before you could cuss him out or toss another piece of laundry at his head. For some reason, you had once managed to toss a pair of his dirty boxers at his head from around the damn corner.

Satoru swears up and down that you put cursed energy into your throw, but you deny all accusations like you're a saint.

"No idea what you're talking about," you smiled.

"Maybe it got possessed by the laundry curse," you said.

He still calls bullshit on your claims.

Satoru finds himself sitting on the cool tiles of the bathroom. It's a little small with the laundry basket by his side, but he'll survive..right?

A bored look settles down on his face as he glances at the laundry, sighs in agony and grabs two articles of clothing, one being white, the other being a bright baby blue. In the back of his head, he can hear you nagging him about something..something seemingly important.

What was it again..?

Ah, right.

"Remember to separate the whites from the colored ones," Satoru mocks you in a high-pitched voice as he disregards your advice with purpose and stuffs your baby blue summer dress into the washing machine along with his snow white dress shirt.

Honestly, what could go wrong? The laundry coming out fresh and clean? Boohoo, what a bummer. It'd be a shame if the two of you had good-smelling clothing. How scary.

Pettily, Satoru tosses the laundry into the washing machine piece after piece. As he reaches the bottom of the laundry basket, interest gleams in his eyes as he spots the couple of bras and panties you hid underneath all the clothing and his underwear (which he always boldly and responsibly puts in the laundry!).

After several months of living together, Satoru has seen your underwear more times than he can count and he wonders why you're still so embarrassed about it. He's seen all your granny panties.

A pair of simple, dark purple panties catch his attention. Nimble fingers are quick to pick them up and Satoru regards them with..intrigue. They're plain and it's obvious you haven't gotten laid yet, but there's a cute little bow at the front. These must be new, he concludes.

Your nude feet are still parading around the kitchen as you diligently clean the space just like the two of you agreed on and it'd take a while for you to finish your part of the deal. Nevertheless, Satoru quietly shuts the door just in case..

"These are cute..," he muses to himself and stretches the fabric with his two index fingers. Lips pursed in thought, brilliant blue eyes scrutinize the panties with a certain glint like he's assessing, judging them over the rim of his pitch black sunglasses.

This is a good pair of panties, but nowhere as cute as the ones with the floral patterns; those are Satoru's personal favorites that are still hidden in his nightstand's drawer. He swears he's no pervert, but he can't help himself!

You're nothing but sweet to Satoru, always offering him the last slice of pizza and taking care of him when he's sick. A cute red hue dusts your cheeks whenever he teases you and oh, the way you stumble over your words when he compliments you! You get so awkward, it's cute.

What does Shoko call you? Ah right, a girlfailure.

Luckily for you, Satoru is very much into the girlfailure he shares the dorm with, although he hides it well behind an exterior of teasing, banter and his natural charm.

Once Satoru is done inspecting your panties, he brings the fabric to his nose and inhales your scent, feeling a little ball of heat form in the pit of his stomach. He gulps down the lump in his throat. There's no scent sweeter than that of your pussy when you got your own panties wet. It's obvious on that little wet patch darkening the fabric a tad bit.

Oh, how adorable you have to be when your little cunt gets excited, soaks your panties and you can't do anything about it.

"Hmm..," Satoru hums in thought before stuffing that certain pair of panties into his pockets. "I'll keep these for research purposes."

It's late at night when Satoru tosses and turns in his bed. It's not the summer heat that makes it hard to fall asleep, but the thought of you. The way you'd show off your legs in those little shorts, your cleavage blessing his glimmering eyes from underneath the top and the way you are..you around him.

All of it gets to him in ways that he could never say out loud or else you'd kick him out in an instant.

"This sucks," Satoru groans and tosses an arm over his eyes, rolling around in self-pity. Who would've guessed that he'd fall for the cute new classmate who has as much of an attitude as he does? Maybe if you weren't like this, he wouldn't be lying on his back, fighting back a raging boner as he thinks about your sweet smile.

Satoru tries ignoring it. He thinks of Yaga's cursed corpses, Shoko calling him a loser for staring at you like a love-struck puppy and the way you felt in his arms when he had to save you from a curse.

He sighs in agony. Enough is enough!

Satoru hooks his fingers into the elastics of his sweatpants and boxers, pulling them down in one swift motion. A wet smack bounces off the walls as his cock springs free and slaps against his abdomen, twitching and throbbing. Satoru groans.

The tip is flushed a pretty shade of red and pre-cum oozes from the slit, pooling on his heated skin. His cock is curved upwards and certainly doesn't lack in thickness or length. A pretty vein runs across the sensitive skin, starting from the base and going all the way up to the flushed tip.

Shit..," Satoru cusses softly and briefly leans his head back against the headboard with a dull thud. Just thinking about you wearing those cute panties, pushing them to the side and sheathing his cock in your tight hole is enough to get him this hard, to get him this eager to fuck you.

But he can't.

You'd likely slap the living daylights out of him.

Satoru wraps your used panties around his hand like he's done many, many times before before he fists his cock. One drag up and another one going down. The soft fabric of your panties rub him just the right way, drawing a deep groan from the depth of his chest.

"Fuck, [Name]..," he breathes out and gradually begins rubbing his cock at a steady pace. "You'll be the death of me.."

Satoru can no longer help himself. His Adam's apple bobs as he gulps, thinking of your cute smile. The way you call out his name, come crawling to him when you need comfort and not to mention you accidentally flashed him your panties when you were up against a curse.

But that's not all. He can only imagine sinking himself into your cunt, stretching you out and making you cry as he fucks you into the mattress. Certainly, he'd leave your greedy pussy leaking of his cum and wanting more until he'd overstimulate himself.

Satoru moves his fist faster and tightens his grip around his cock. Pre-cum stains the dark fabric of your panties that slide along his length so effortlessly, like you've chosen that specific pair just for him to use.

"Crap, just a bit more..," he mumbles, voice thick with a mix of longing and lust alike.

One tight drag upwards, he uses his thumb to massage the swollen head of his cock, squeezing some more pre-cum out. The white essence stains his fist, your used panties and trickles down the length of his cock until the drops pool at his heavy balls.

Would you let him use your hand like that?

Scratch that, why would he cum over your delicate hand when he could fuck your mouth, have tears streaming down your cheeks and cum down your little throat?

Yeah, that seems much better.

"Fuck, yeah.. Just like that.." Satoru's abs twitch in anticipation and his cock twitches in his hands as he gradually speeds up. The scent of your panties invades his nose, making him delirious and clouding his mind. All he can think about is cumming in your pretty panties.

His hips buck up into his fists and he quickly wraps the crotch of your panties around the tip. He's so close he can taste it. "Ah.. Ngh.. Fuck.. Yes, yes, yes!"

The movement of Satoru's fist is messy, almost needy as he finally cums with your name on his tongue. "Ah fuuck, [Name].."

Pearly white cum stains the fabric of your panties and soaks them as Satoru rubs himself through his orgasm, milking himself of every last drop. Groans and moans generously spill from his lips as he thinks of you, your perfect lips wrapped around his tip and swallowing his cum like a good girl.

Sweat trickles down his temple as he comes down from his high, soft huffs escaping his lips. Pulling the panties away from the head of his cock, Satoru stares at the pool of cum like he's entranced.

He wonders if you'd wear those with his cum on them, his seed sticking to your pretty pussy all damn day.

"Shit.." Satoru wants to discard the panties, let them join the laundry basket so you wouldn't notice but when his brilliant blue eyes flutter open, they suddenly meet your gaze.

Your eyes are wide, lips parted and your tongue slides out to wet them. A glimmer of shock swims in your eyes and a hue of red dusts the apples of your cheeks.

All you wanted was to seek out his company since you had trouble sleeping, but when you opened the door just a tiny bit, you suddenly watch Satoru shamelessly jacking himself off with your newest pair of panties. As embarrassed as you are, you cannot deny the throb between your legs or the wetness pooling there.

He looked..pretty when he came.

Satoru groans. "Instead of watching, you could help a guy out, you know?"

"Excuse me..?" Your ears must be deceiving you just like your eyes. Certainly, this has to be a very realistic dream in which you catch Satoru jacking off, but you'd wake up soon, right? You'd wake up and keep this dream to yourself to save yourself from Satoru's onslaught of teasing words.

Clicking his tongue, Satoru sits up on his bed and pets the spot beside him. "You can't sleep, right? C'mere, I'll help you out."

Yes, this definitely has to be a fever dream of yours.

Against your better judgment, you sit down right next to your roommate who still has your panties - which are stained with his cum - in his fist. The mattress dips with your weight and you shyly fold your hands in your lap. You can't bring yourself to look Satoru in the eyes. Not when his cock is out in the open and standing at attention again.

"Look at me," Satoru demands and for a brief second, you do look at him only to bashfully avoid your gaze again. He thinks nothing of it. Grabbing your chin, he makes you look at him and your lips part in shock once more. "What's wrong, hm? You're usually not so..shy," he teases in low, raspy tones.

In the dim light of the little lamp on his nightstand, being dipped in soft orange hues, your eyes glimmer. Words don't come to you easily, your throat feels tight. How the hell are you supposed to react?

"This is..weird," you manage to squeak out and squeeze your eyes shut for a moment.

Satoru looks at you and then down at himself. He must admit that it is quite the entertaining situation with his dick whipped out, but with the way you're not pushing him away, he knows he's got you on the hook. All you need is a little bit of..coaxing.

"It's only weird if you want it to be." Satoru leans in until his lips are on your ear, whispering right into it. His hot breath sends a pleasant tingle down your spine and his lips press a gentle kiss to the shell of your ear. The kissing sound is soft, yet so wet.

"Satoru, you're–"

"Shh, just relax..," he whispers into your ear. Cupping your jaw lovingly, slow kisses travel from your ear to your cheek and end up on your lips. His kiss is firm, slow, yet there's a certain amount of desire laced into it like he wants you to drown in the pleasure along with him.

You hold Satoru's gaze through half-lidded eyes as your lips move in perfect sync; the result of having worked together for several years now. A firework of butterflies goes off within your tummy, sparking a fire and setting the blood within your veins ablaze. You can't fight it anymore.

Not when he kisses you like he loves you.

When Satoru sneaks his tongue past your lips and draws a soft moan from you, he smiles into the kiss. He finally has you where he's been wanting you for so long. You melt into his strong arms and paw at his chest like you want something more from him, but all he does is chuckle at your silent plea.

Breaking the kiss, a thin string of saliva connects your lips to his and your breath comes out in short huffs. Satoru smiles as he sees the hazy look on your face. "That's a good girl," he praises. "In the end, you're just my girl, aren't you?" He's oh-so-gentle when he strokes your cheeks and you swear..you're falling for him. Hard.

You nod your head. "Yes. I'm..your girl."

"Come here." Satoru cups your jaw and pulls you into another kiss, this time sneaking his tongue past your lips. He draws a surprised gasp from your lips, but he pays it little to no mind as you melt into the kiss. Freely, he explores your mouth and shoves his tongue in just a bit deeper.

Your fingers bury themselves in his hair as you let your back down onto the mattress, pulling Satoru down with you. He gets comfortable between your legs and uses one hand to caress the skin of your upper thigh. Oh, you're so soft compared to his calloused hands.

He trails kisses from your jaw down to your neck where he playfully nibbles at the sensitive skin. Frisky lips suckle your skin between his teeth, sucking pretty hues of purple and blue into your skin. Your hands grasp his tee, a pleasured hiss slips your lips. "S-Satoru.."

Satoru smiles. You sound so cute.

But he doesn't stop there. No. Calloused hands grip your waist and Satoru trails his kisses and bites lower towards your collarbone and furrows his brows when he comes into contact with the sorry excuse of a top you're wearing. It irritates him, but he knows just the way to solve it.

"Off with it." With one swift motion, he pulls your top up and off, tossing it into some corner of his room. Sitting up on his knees, brilliant blue eyes drink your body in.

Those rosy cheeks and shimmering eyes, the curve of your collarbone and your perky little tits begging for his attention. Your waist feels just right in his large hands.

Satoru can't help but smirk. "You're a pretty little thing, aren't you?," he muses more to himself than you and before you can say anything, he dips his head low and greedily. sucks your nipple into his mouth.

Arching your back off the mattress, you moan his name in broken syllables. White strands of hair tickle your skin, but that's not even the most distracting thing. It's the way he grabs your tits, gropes them and swirls his tongue around your nipples.

"A-ah, Satoru!" Your hands fly into his hair, tugging at the roots, but Satoru pays you no mind. In fact, he groans in appreciation. "Slow down!," you beg but he skillfully ignores your pleas like always.

"Are they sensitive?" Satoru pulls away from your nipple with a wet pop and smirks as it glistens in his saliva. "They look sensitive." Grabbing a new handful of your tits, he squeezes them harder until you whine, kiss-swollen lips parted and all. You curl your toes and dumbly nod your head. "Of course they are.."

Wrapping his strong arms around your waist, Satoru leans in until his lips brush against the conch of your ear. He gives it a slow, tantalizing lick. "You're so responsive and sensitive. I can't wait to hear you when I sink my cock into you," he whispers into your ear, voice rough and thick with primal lust.

"Then do it," you whine and buck your hips up into his. Your clothed pussy grinds into his cock in delicious ways. You can feel his size through the material and briefly wonder how he's supposed to fit. "Just fuck me already, Toru.."

Your begging catches Satoru off-guard. He blinks at you once, twice before his lips crack into a mischievous smile. "My, my, you're so impatient and demanding for a virgin." It feels like he's mocking you as he's pulling his tee off, revealing his toned abs to your greedy little hands. "I've gotta prep you a bit, doll. Or else you'll whine about how it's too big."

With blazing, fond eyes, Satoru watches you as your hands appreciatively wander from his toned stomach all the way up to his muscled chest. Your gentle touch is enough to leave a burning path behind that makes his muscles twitch underneath the tips of your fingers.

"I would never..," you mumble absent-mindedly, soft palms stroking his flexing biceps all the way down to his forearms. You've seen Satoru shirtless countless times and yet, you never quite realized just how..built he really is. It's about damn time you appreciate him, right?

"Oh baby.. Yes, you would.." Satoru grabs your hand and presses a kiss to the center of your palm before guiding it to the elastic of his shorts and boxers, encouraging you to pull them off completely.

You take a steady breath through your nose and hold his gaze while pulling off the rest of his clothes, tossing them away like he did earlier. For a moment, you don't dare to look any lower than his mesmerizing eyes. It felt..indecent, but isn't that the fun part?

"There we go," Satoru snickers once the remaining clothes are off your body and on his bedroom floor. He's shameless as he grabs your knees and forces your legs open to stare at your leaking cunt. The lips are glossy and sticky with arousal. If he looks closely, he can see your tight walls fluttering around nothing. "Fuck..gonna loosen you up a bit first, okay? It'll feel good, trust me."

"Y-yes.." You nod your head, voice barely above a whisper.

Satoru kneels in-between your legs and uses his fingers to spread your pussy lips open. Long fingers massage your messy lips to get you used to the feeling, steadily rubbing them up and down before his fingers go to brush your clit.

"Ah!" You curl in on yourself, your thighs want to squeeze shut but are stopped by Satoru's slim waist. "Satoru, that's–!"

"Good, isn't it?" He finishes your sentence with a smug expression on his face and cocks his head to the side as he watches you squirm. His thumb teases your clit in slow circles, playfully flicking the nub a few times until you're moaning his name. Oh, Satoru's having way too much fun touching you like this.

"Yes, yes! O-oh!" Your eyes go wide as Satoru lathers his fingers in your essence and glides his middle finger down to your entrance, slowly sliding it into your tight cunt. "It feels..funny.."

Satoru laughs. It's loud and melodious and makes you blush deeply. "Don't worry. You'll feel good in a moment. Just relax and enjoy it, doll."

Gently, Satoru curves his finger upwards and thrusts it in and out of your cunt. The initial uncertainness on your face morphs into pleasure and your head drops back into the pillows. Soft moans and sighs spill from your lips, your legs fall open. Pleasure begins to cloud your mind.

"Good girl," he praises you and lowers himself on top of you to press a kiss to your cheek. "All you have to do is take my fingers one by..," Satoru trails off and eases his ring finger into your cunt, gently rubbing that sweet spot within you. "..one."

"Ngh..ah..oh god.." You dig your fingers into the sheets below and arch your back, pressing your tits flush against his hard chest. With twitching thighs, you grind your hips into Satoru's skilled fingers and moan your praises right into his ear. "More.. Need more.."

"You're still a bit too tight for my cock, love," Satoru chuckles as he picks up the pace, fingerling your little pussy in scissoring motions. "I don't wanna see you cry about it..yet."

Each time he drills his fingers into you, his skin smacks against yours, making your hole squelch embarrassingly loud. Moans and whimpers spill from your lips as Satoru effortlessly pokes that sweet spot that you could never reach. Excitedly, your walls flutter around his fingers, sucking them in deeper and welcoming his index finger.

The stretch burns in delicious ways as he spreads his fingers a bit, making sure to spread you a bit before he'd fuck you.

"There we go," Satoru murmurs once you can take all three of his fingers and your juices drip onto the sheets. The smile gracing his lips almost seems to be one of pride. "Think you can take me yet, doll?"

Hastily, you nod your head. "Yes, please! I want you so bad, Toru.."

Satisfied with your answer, Satoru slowly pulls his fingers from your pussy, a thin string of arousal following the tips of his fingers. Your juices are webbed between his fingers and he can't help but admire it for a moment before licking his fingers clean.

"Mhh..I can't wait to put my mouth on you next time," Satoru muses as your taste clouds his taste buds. But where's the fun when he's the only one tasting your juices? With a smirk, he pries your lips open and slides his fingers into your mouth. "Go on. Taste yourself."

A soft expression falls over your face as you wrap your tongue around Satoru's fingers and suck on them. The taste of your cunt has you flushing from your chest up. This is filthy, something you've never even thought of doing, but with Satoru..you'd nearly do everything he demands of you. And so you eagerly suck his fingers clean with a little moan.

Once he's certain you've done your job right, Satoru pulls his fingers out of your mouth and absent-mindedly wipes them dry on the sheets. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulls your body flush to his and pushes you into the mattress with his weight. His breath fans across your cheeks.

"This might sting a bit, doll. But you'll get used to it, yeah?," he assures you. Although he appears so composed and level-headed, one glance towards his cock is enough to let you know that he's just as impatient as you are.

Your eyes fall back to his and you wrap your arms around his neck. "It's okay..I can take it."

Satoru smiles and locks your lips with his as he swiftly thrusts his hips against yours, sheathing his cock within your tight walls. It's a messy kiss; you whine into his mouth as he stretches your cunt out and slowly goes deeper, deeper, deeper. Your nails are buried in his scalp, pulling at his hair and your breath comes out in pathetic huffs.

Once he's balls deep in your pussy, Satoru breaks the excuse of a kiss and rests his forehead on your own, composing himself. A steady huff slips his lips as he tries his best to keep still. "Fuck.. I loosened you up and you're still so fucking tight," he groans.

Satoru's words send a shiver down your spine and your walls seem to suck him in a bit deeper. "Shit.. You're b-big..," you say, voice a bit high-pitched but sugary sweet.

He laughs, gently. That's the sort of ego boost someone like Gojo Satoru definitely doesn't need. "I told you it'd be a tight fit."

Large palms caress your thighs and hips while he's peppering kisses up and down your neck. "Tell me when I can move, doll.."

For a moment, you bask in the attention Satoru so generously provides you with. Little kisses, gentle caresses and sweet nothings whispered in your ear. The pain of the stretch slowly ebbs away and you nod your head. "Move, Toru..," you mumble with a desperate edge. "Please move.."

You don't have to tell him twice. Satoru pulls his hips back until only the tip remains and slowly thrusts back into your cunt with a deep grunt. Dull fingernails bury themselves into the skin of your hips as he sets a slow pace and draws moan after sweet moan from your lips.

Your toes curl. Satoru's cock presses into all the right spots that you could never reach on your own. He wipes all worries and every possible thought from your mind. You throw your head back into the pillows and arch your back, tits bouncing with each thrust he delivers to your freshly popped cunt. "Ah..mh..fuck yes.."

Your moans increase in volume and pitch; he picks up the pace and buries his face in the crook of your neck where he bites into the skin to muffle his own noises, claiming you as his. "Crap..so tight..so wet.." A few curses fall from Satoru's lips.

Pushing you further into the mattress, Satoru grabs your wrists and pins them up above your head; you don't even seem to notice. He finishes each thrust with a roll of his hips and groans whenever your gummy walls flutter around him, needing him to stay right where he is.

Suddenly, your eyes go wide and a little scream is torn from your throat. "Ah! Toru! Right there!"

"Right here?," Satoru rolls his hips into yours again, placing his large palm on your lower abdomen, only to draw the very same reaction from you. You rapidly nod your head, lip bitten between your teeth. He smirks. "So that's the spot, huh.."

Satoru interlaces your fingers together and begins abusing that spot for good measure. His cock drills into your poor pussy over and over again as you moan and squirm underneath him. Around his waist, your thighs shake. Your juices drip down your ass and his balls, making each smack just a tad bit louder, filthier. His groans mix with your moans and little babbles.

The way you look at him through half-lidded eyes, taking his pounding like you're made for him specifically and offering your body for his pleasure. It's all too much for Satoru.

"Shit..can't make love to you when you're looking at me like this." Letting go of your hands, Satoru swipes his sweaty strands of hair back and briefly pulls out of you. Calloused palms grip your waist and easily flip you flat on your stomach.

A squeak of surprise slips your lips as your face is suddenly in the pillows and the way you look at him over your shoulder is probably awkward, too. "Toru..?," you ask through heavy pants.

Hands still on your waist, Satoru uses his strength to push you into the mattress, to keep you from squirming. "Hold still. I need to fuck you, doll."

There's no need to question what exactly he means by that when his cock bullies its way into your small cunt again. This time, you cry his name into the pillows and lightly kick your legs as he drills right into that spot that makes you see stars.

Satoru is no longer gentle with you as he fucks into you over and over again, shamelessly using your body like he's dreamed of for so long now. All the cute noises you make only fuel him more until he's pounding you into the mattress.

Eyes rolling into the back of your skull, all you can do is moan his name loud enough for everyone to hear. Any bit of decency or shame is wiped clean from your mind as Satoru drills his cock into you with precision.

"Still such a tight little pussy..," Satoru laughs, his balls slapping against your clit repeatedly. "Do you like it that much when I use you like this? Tell me."

A rough hand grips the roots of your hair on the top of your head as Satoru leans over your body, pressing his front flush to your back as he continues to pound away at your pussy. His mouth is right at your ear, groaning into it. "C'mon, use your big words like you always do, doll."

Tears gather at your eyes and they're quick to run down your cheeks. You can hardly think straight, much less form a coherent sentence with the way he's treating you. It takes you a moment to pull yourself together before your voice comes out as a broken moan paired with sobs. "I love it, Toru! Don't stop, please.. Please, please don't stop.. Feels too good.."

Satoru groans at your words and rewards you with a particularly sharp thrust. The hand in your hair slides down around your throat, choking you lightly as he catches your lips in a sloppy, heated kiss.

Your eyes roll back again as Satoru easily dominates your tongue. The slippery muscles slide against each other, getting all tangled up and making saliva slip from the corner of your mouth. "Fuck, you're so pretty," he grunts into your mouth, his lips finding yours a few times like he needs more of your taste.

"Toru..," you whine, lips swollen from all the kissing and glossy with his saliva. "I'm gonna.. Ah! Oh God!"

"I know baby," Satoru hushes you softly. By the way your cunt clenches around him sporadically, your shaking thighs and those hot tears rolling down your cheeks, he can tell you're close. "Let it go. I've got you."

Your orgasm comes crashing down on you with one skilled roll of Satoru's hips. A yell of his name tears through your throat as you cum all over his cock, making a mess of his lap and the sheets below. He keeps you in check as you squirm and sob and he whispers sweet praises into your ear that go in one ear and out the other. He helps you ride the waves of your high.

"Fuck, gonna fill this sweet pussy up..," Satoru groans and thrusts into your abused cunt a few more times before he buries his face in your neck, groaning your name loudly as he squirts thick ropes of cum right inside. His hips come to a halt as he grinds his essence deeper into you until it seeps out from where he's plugging your hole so deliciously.

For a while, you bask in Satoru's weight collapsing on top of you as he holds you impossibly closer and caresses your lower stomach with sweaty palms. Lazily, he peppers sweet kisses along your neck and pushes your sweaty hair away from his path so he can nuzzle into you all he wants. Snowy strands of hair tickle your face.

"That was..," you start, still out of breath.

"..amazing," Satoru finishes for you with a chuckle.

Not long after, Satoru is kind enough to pull out of you and clean up the mess he's caused. Every once in a while, he claims that it's mainly you who caused the mess since you were, quote "dripping wet", but he's just teasing you, changing not only the sheets but cleaning you up with a damp cloth as well.

Satoru slides right underneath the covers with you and lets you rest your head on his chest while holding you close to his body. Although the room smells like sex, the two of you savor the post-orgasm glow and just..hold each other.

"You know, you're quite the pervert for watching me jack off," Satoru breaks the silence and draws a faux offended gasp from you. Playfully, you smack his chest and he snickers. You always give him such perfect reactions.

"It's you who's the pervert! You jacked off with my panties!" It explains why all your panties disappear for a while only to suddenly spawn from the washing machine.

Satoru rolls his eyes. "Duh? How could I help myself when they're so cute? It's your fault, obviously."

The both of you banter back and forth for a while, mixed with laughter and giggles that fill the room. Despite the fact that Satoru is a panty stealer, the moment is quite sweet. You're glad that you can still laugh with him like this after having done..unspeakable things.

Once the laughter dies down and your eyes grow heavy, you feel like you should confess one more thing before drifting off to dreamland in Satoru's arms. Your voice is quiet and soft as you speak. "I've..used a pair of your boxers.."

Satoru tightens his arm around you and takes a breath through his nose. "Have you touched yourself in them?"

Silence follows, speaking volumes about the deeds you have committed.

"..Can I sniff them?"

"You pervert!"

"Objection! You're just as messed up as I am!"

feel free to send me your jjk thirsts/thoughts and i'll write a lil' something <3

[queeniecamps]

Camp of 2002!

Since we know nothing about the other campers from when David and Jasper were kids, I took it upon myself to give them some pizazz! (With some additional help from @jinjuomo, @cherryanimates, and @chettyspagetti for helping me develop them further from my initial concepts!)

We don’t have any names settled yet, but personality wise-

Horse rider: The only girl at camp (besides counselor Darla), but she’s super cool! She knows a lot of cool moves and tricks to use on the horses at camp, and probably calls everybody Partner. She speaks specifically in western slang, and she’s quite close to Darla, being the only other girl at camp.

Canoeing/“yacht” kid: spoiled and flamboyant rich kid, he’s the youngest kid of the president of the local yacht club. He got grounded for probably wrecking his very own yacht, so he was dumped at camp for the summer as a punishment. He thinks he’s better than everyone else (he’s not), and is very often being knocked down a peg by everyone else.

First aid kid: a fairly cautious kid, he’s often getting injured in one way or another but, luckily, both of his parents are doctors! Wanting to follow in his parents footsteps, he takes on first aid camp to begin his medical journey. If he’s not worried about his own health, it’s everybody else’s.

Archer: very ambitious and very competitive, this kid has decided everything is a competition and needs to win, no matter what. First to breakfast? He’s gotta win. First to swim all the way across lake lilac? It was never a competition to begin with, but he’s gotta win! If he’s not the best at something, he gives up entirely on it to focus on the next major thing. He personally saw Jasper as his arch nemesis, then he saw David when he became the best camper. (Side note: as an adult, one of his siblings got married and had kids before he could, so he never had kids of his own or got married, but at like the 15th camp Campbell reunion he came to camp, saw space kid as a personal challenge, and wound up lowkey kidding/adopting him?? But he doesn’t see him as his kid, but he sees him as his roommate?? It took 2 weeks for the counselors to realize he was missing LOL)

Bug catcher: sweet lil guy! Autistic, kind of a menace, knows a lot about bugs and Pokémon. He had a crush on Davey before he dropped the bad boy persona, he’s only into bad boys lolll. If you mess with him, he will absolutely flip his demeanor and put a buncha bugs he found in your cot, so don’t make him angry.

[thisfeelslike-iykyk]

hiiii i have a request <33 maybe percy x daughter of dionysus reader?

drunk on love ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

percy jackson x daughter of dionysus!reader backtrack: “adventure player”, yao chen inspiration: you!

it wasn’t often that demigods at camp half-blood got to relax. you were usually all busy training and dying. but with all the chaos that had been happening recently, you thought you all deserved a break. besides, with the war brewing, you never knew when the last time you ever saw your friends would be. and it sucked to think about that, but it was reality.

so that’s why you and a few other campers were out here, in the middle of the forest, at night. nobody asked how you got the wine, or why it was even there. let’s just say you called in a couple favors with some hermes kids.

you reminded everyone to keep it down. the harpies usually patrolled the beach area, so the forest was generally safe, but you couldn’t take too many chances. to be completely honest, the party was kind of a ruse to get closer to your boyfriend. the two of you couldn’t be too comfortable with each other during the day, under the watchful eye of your dad, dionysus. you weren’t ashamed of percy, and all the campers--and chiron, you were pretty sure--knew you were together. but you weren’t willing to take a chance on your dad.

percy was looking fine as hell, and it was effortless too. his hair was messed up just a little, his smile practically lighting up the whole forest. he met your gaze from all the way across the clearing and smirked a little. you grinned and sent him a sly wink, raising a plastic cup to your lips and taking a sip of the red wine inside. some stray wine dripped from your lips, which you caught with your thumb and sucked off. not breaking eye contact, you quirked an eyebrow at your boyfriend, a little smirk on your face.

percy shook his head, running his hands through his hair. he made his way over to you, alcohol-free because he was responsible like that. (that was such a lie. you figured he just didn’t like alcohol because of his old stepdad and arch nemesis.)

“you’re killing me over here, [name],” percy said with a grin as he reached you. you grinned as he pushed you up against the nearest tree, hands going to your waist immediately. you wrapped your arms around him to hug him close to you, the near empty cup still clutched in your hands.

percy wasted no time in pressing his lips against yours. he tasted faintly of sea salt--he always did--and blue raspberry jolly ranchers. he was your most favorite flavor. you returned his kiss hungrily as his hand slipped under your shirt, gently rubbing circles on your warm skin.

if it was up to you, you would spend all day kissing your boyfriend. unfortunately, that wasn’t up to you. “perce, my dad could see,” you whispered, unconnecting your lips and forcing yourself to keep a clear mind.

“you’re not worried about him finding out about this whole party in general?” he returned in a low voice, tugging your hair teasingly.

“compared to him seeing you and I together? not really, actually.” dionysus would probably have a good laugh seeing this gathering. “he’d probably be proud of me. about the party.” you downed the rest of your wine in one gulp, savoring the taste. of course, being the daughter of the wine god had its perks, one being you could outdrink anybody.

“he hates me enough anyway,” percy muttered. “I swear, babe, you think we’re being all discreet, but he definitely knows. and I don’t have a problem with that, but he definitely knows. you should see the way he looks at me. I might get murdered in my sleep one of these days.”

“don’t say that,” you protested, rolling your eyes. “you’re too important to kill.”

“hmm,” he hummed dismissively, pressing his lips to yours again. “wanna get out of here?” he mumbled against your mouth.

“you know I do.” you held on to your cup--the dryads would never forgive you if you littered--and took percy’s hand in yours. the music and lights of the makeshift party were quickly left behind as percy led you to his cabin. there was always something eerie and lonely about poseidon’s cabin, but you were not about to bring your boyfriend into your cabin; castor and pollux were busy drinking at the party, but they could come back any time.

come dawn, you'd have to sneak out of cabin three. you couldn't risk being seen in percy's cabin--besides being against camp rules, that would cause such a scandal. but for now, you were okay with being a rulebreaker. and who could blame you? you were simply drunk on love.

I’m sorry this took so long to get out! I’ve been bombarded with schoolwork and am sick on top of that. also guys please don’t drink underage

divider by @saradika-graphics

taglist: @loveinalocket, @raysmayhem-72, @stars-tonight, @toooster

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

✨️1K Followers Celebration Day 7: Stray Kids bias wrecker - Jisung✨️

The Heat

AN: We have reached the end of my milestone celebration! Thank you to all of you, new and old, for your support. You have no idea how much it all means to me <3 Time to end this celebration off with my other other arch nemesis lol.

Synopsis: When your roommate brings home a bag of strange cookies, you two don't think much of it. Assuming whoever sold them to him was lying about them containing an aphrodisiac. You both quickly come to realise that you were very, very incorrect.

Heads up: Han Jisung x Fem! Reader, Roommates AU, dub-con elements (because Reader and Jisung are under the influence of an aphrodisiac, but they do genuinely want each other), mentions of masturbation, dirty talk, nipple play (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex, Reader cries a little, Jisung cums pretty quickly, mentions of multiple orgasms, unrealistic sex (Jisung cums more than once and remains hard), hypersensitivity, some usage of a petname for Reader and a barely there praise kink (f. receiving).

Word count: 3658

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

"You'll never guess what I found!" Your roommate yells, all but slamming the front door open in his excitement.

"Hello to you too, Jisung," you respond dryly but, your curiosity is piqued. Angling yourself to get a better view of the brown paper bag in his grasp from your position on the couch.

"Sorry, hi. I'm just really hyped," he responds sheepishly, plopping down beside you, "but look!"

You're not sure what you were expecting, but a bag filled with cookies certainly wasn't it. "Uh, they look good?" You offer, not really understanding what makes these cookies in particular so special. The little pink hearts on them are very cute, you'll give them that much.

"No, no listen. These aren't just any old cookies. Minho and I stumbled across this kind of weird looking bakery, and the lady who runs it said these cookies are mixed with some really potent aphrodisiacs,"

Yeah, this is not how you anticipated your Saturday to unfold at all.

"So... you bought them from an apparently really shady bakery and just trusted what that lady said?"

Your words take a few seconds to register in his mind. Big eyes blinking at you owlishly. If he hadn't just admitted to something so stupid, you'd reach over to squish his cheeks because of how endearing he looks right now.

"Well, when you put it like that..."

It takes a great deal of effort on your part not to drag your hand down your face.

"Minho should really stop enabling all of your impulsive purchases and ideas,"

"To be fair, he was the one who dragged me into the bakery. I just happened to stumble across these," he says, motioning to the bag now staring at the two of you on your coffee table.

"My point still stands. Why did you buy so many anyway? Why not just get a few if you just wanted to test them out?"

"They were running a special," he mutters.

"I didn't realise you were this naive. I have some magic beans to sell you if you're interested," you tease, grinning as the tips of his ears redden.

"Ha ha ha. Very funny. They weren't that pricey anyway so, luckily I didn't spend much," he reaches for the bag, fishing out a cookie.

"Woah hey, what're you doing?"

"Eating the cookies I bought? Like you said, I'm sure they're a scam, so I might as well eat them since I spent money on them," he responds with a shrug. Your anxiety building watching him take his first bite.

"Oh, they're pretty good, actually. Want one?" He asks, turning his big brown eyes onto you. Now, how are you supposed to say no when he looks at you with those eyes?

"If these are poisoned or something, I swear I'm going to haunt you," you respond, and your roommate takes that as a green light.

"We'll both be ghosts then. I don't think ghosts can haunt each other," he says with a laugh, the brushes of his fingers against yours feeling like electricity as he hands you a cookie.

You choose to essentially shove the cookie in your mouth to avoid dealing with that particular can of worms. Jisung was right. They are delicious. Flavours of strawberry with faint hints of chocolate caressing your taste buds. Maybe they were worth turning into a ghost for if the worst comes to pass, you think.

"See? They're good, right?"

"Yeah, I can't even lie. That's one of the best cookies I've ever had. If we survive this, you should show this oddball bakery to me,"

"Oh," and you immediately regret admitting to him that you actually liked it, "how the tables have turned. What was that you were saying earlier about reckless purchases?"

Rolling your eyes, you stand up in order to get ready for bed. Jisung's smugness more than enough motivation to finally get your ass off the couch.

"Goodnight Jisung," you say, waving him off.

"Goodnight," you don't even need to turn around to see the smirk stretched across his face. You can hear it clear as day.

Everything feels like it's on fire when you wake up the following morning.

You're absolutely drenched in sweat and your throat is beyond dry. Perhaps the oddest realisation of all is that you're wet. As in, obscenely so. Your thighs are smeared in it and you're almost certain it's leaked all the way onto your bedsheets.

What the hell?

It takes you some very long minutes to blink your bleary eyes open. Your muddled mind working a mile a minute to try and make sense of all of this. Last night hadn't been that hot so, there should be no reason why you're this sweaty. Plus, from what you can remember at the very least, you hadn't touched yourself before turning in for the night. So why in the world are you this wet? And more than that, why does it hurt so much more than usual?

'What is going on?' Is that question that echoes through your skull as you join the world of the conscious. You're due for a shower and a change of sheets, you think. You feel pretty disgusting at the moment, and a shower might just be what you need to help calm you down. An ice cold one.

On perhaps the strangest morning you've experienced to date, you don't expect to bump into a shirtless Jisung with a towel wrapped around his slim waist.

You've seen your roommate without a shirt more times than you can count at this point. However, it's never made you feel like this before.

The throbbing gets worse. So, so much worse. Warmth flooding your face when you feel yourself gush onto the fresh pair of sleeping shorts you'd just changed into. Jisung is an attractive man. A very, very attractive man. You've had no qualms with admitting that in the most private parts of your mind and on nights when images of him between your thighs are the only thoughts that can push you off of the proverbial edge.

But it's never been like this.

"Morning," he says gruffly. God, that just made it worse. If you weren't too lost in your own spiral, you'd notice his blown out pupils and the glassy quality to his eyes. How they shamelessly rake over your body. How he has to adjust his hold on his towel so you don't notice how hard he is. How hard he's been for what feels like hours now.

"Morning," you squeak back in response once your higher order functions return to you. Practically slamming the bathroom door in his face and, sagging against it once you're alone.

What is wrong with you?

Taking a shower was minimally successful. At least you're no longer drenched in various body fluids, but you still feel as though there's molten lava coursing through your veins. Everything is just so hot.

Touching yourself while you were in there didn't help either. If anything, it only added fuel to the inferno that seems hell bent on swallowing you whole from the inside out. Maybe you're just in desperate need of a good fuck. It has been longer than you care to admit since you last slept with someone. That Changbin guy was nice and ridiculously attractive. Perhaps you should give him a call.

You're disrupted from your thoughts when you hear a tentative knock at your bedroom door. Jisung. Oh no, you're not sure if you can handle looking at him right now, let alone being in the same room with him. Your mind has been replaying the encounter from this morning over and over again. Even that hadn't helped you cum in a satisfactory way. Which is insane because thinking about him works 11 times out of 10. You must really need to be fucked.

However, you're not a child. You're not going to avoid your roommate and your friend just because you're a little (okay, maybe it's more than a little) more sexually frustrated than usual. You're more mature than that.

"Come in," you say, cringing at the hoarseness in your voice.

To your relief (and mild disappointment), Jisung has a shirt on. Though, the way the tank top leaves his broad shoulders and biceps completely uncovered isn't helping the to soothe the squirming of your insides.

Jisung looks exactly how you feel: like a total wreck. His hair is in dissary and sticking to his damp forehead and his cheeks are flushed with an appealing dust of pink. You wonder if this is what he'd look like underneath you.

"What's up?" You croak, looking at your bedroom door as though it's the most interesting object you've ever seen. He may have a shirt on, but you're not sure you can handle looking at him for too long right now. For both of your sakes.

"Does it feel hot as fuck for you today too? I don't know what's been going on, but I already took two showers today, and I still feel like I might pass out from heat stroke," he says, making himself comfortable on your bed. While not out of the oddinary, having him so close to you is sending your barely coherent mind into panic. The desire to straddle his incredibly welcoming looking lap clawing at your insides.

"Yeah, it does feel a lot hotter than usual today. Maybe there's a ventilation issue or something in our place? Because I checked the weather and it the temperature for the day is on the cooler side, funnily enough," you respond, wiping some excess sweat off of your forehead. So, you're not the only one who seems to feel...off, weird even today. Whatever is happening appears to be affecting Jisung too.

"Really? That's so weird. I thought maybe there was a heat wave or something. I don't know how much more of this I can take," he sighs, throwing himself down. The bottom of his tank top exposing a sliver of his toned abdomen. Fuck.

Before your mind can assault you with fantasies of covering his abs in your wetness, that's when it hits you. Those damn cookies. They have to be the reason you're like this and that you suspect Jisung is experiencing something very similar.

"Jisung, I think I know why we're feeling so hot right now," you rush out, fingers absentmindedly toying with your blanket.

"Really? Well, I'm all ears," he responds, turning to give you all of his attention.

Fuck, how did you not realise it sooner? Jisung's eyes are almost black with how dilated his pupils are. Desire flashing like a neon sign on his face.

You really can't afford to soak through another pair of shorts right now. Focus.

"I think the cookies - I think the cookies weren't a scam," you mutter, hugging your legs to your chest. Your face is so warm that you're surprised the heat from it isn't radiating off of you.

He just keeps looking at you. You know the moment your words sink in because his face quickly shifts from a pretty, pink flush to an almost scarlet red. His mouth opening and closing as he grapples with what to even say to you.

"What? What makes you think that?" It's his turn to squeak and avoid your gaze. Seemingly fascinated with your ceiling.

"What else could it be? We both had them yesterday, and now we're sweating buckets and -" You cut yourself off. Jisung doesn't need to know you've been wet all day. You should probably keep that part to yourself.

However, the universe is determined to make you suffer, "And what?" He asks, meeting your eyes briefly before turning away. His teeth toying with his bottom lip.

"It-It's fine. Don't worry about it, but, um just trust me. I really think those cookies are the reason we're like this," You stutter out, studiously ignoring the lecherous thoughts creeping back into your mind.

Jisung doesn't say anything at first. Just laying there before sitting up once more, his hand ruffling his hair, "I wasn't kidding when I said I don't know much of this I can take. I feel like I'm losing my mind."

That you can relate to. Intimately.

"The solution is pretty obvious," you joke in an attempt to lighten the thick tension in the air. It almost makes it difficult to even breathe properly.

Your words have the opposite effect, however. Startled, fiery brown eyes meeting your own. Jisung looks like he's seriously considering it, and you're not sure whether your stomach knots itself in hope or anxiety.

"Jisung, I was-"

"Do you want to?"

Now it's your turn to stare at him in stunned silence. Probably looking like an absolute buffoon gaping at him. Is he joking? Is this his way of getting back at you?

"Wha-What?" Comes your brilliant response.

"Do you want to?" He repeats, both looking and sounding deathly serious.

"You don't have to do this, you know. If you don't want to. We can j-"

"I want to," he interrupts again, his cheeks darkening, but he doesn't falter in his words.

Your very hot, very kind, very funny roommate is offering himself on a silver platter. Even if you weren't so wet you could die, you'd be an idiot to say no.

"Okay," you whisper, meeting his eyes head on. Your heart thundering against your chest as you watch him shift closer to you. Barely any space left between the two of you. You're not sure who moves first, and it ultimately doesn't matter because after months of fantasising about it, Jisung's mouth is finally on yours.

Maybe it's the cookies, but your first kiss isn't gentle or slow or sweet. It's fierce and messy and desperate from the very beginning. Your hands not sure where they want to settle themselves. Alternating between pulling on his hair, pulling the most delicious whimpers from him or steadying yourself on his muscular shoulders while you two fall deeper into each other.

The gasp that leaves your mouth when Jisung nestles himself between your thighs is loud and throaty. He's hard. So hard and so hot that you can feel the heat radiating from him even through your respective clothing. Jisung wastes no time in covering your throat and jaw in sloppy, uncoordinated kisses while he shallowly grinds his erection against you. Greedily searching for any semblance of relief he can possibly find.

"Ji-Jisung," you moan, arching into his touch when one of his hands gives your breast an experimental squeeze. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he groans against your neck between licks and nips, thumbing at your already hard nipple through your shirt.

"Re-Really?" You manage to ask through the fog. "Really," he responds, impatiently shoving your shirt up and taking one of your nipples into his mouth. To say you were unprepared for the sensation of being enveloped in his wet, warm mouth would be putting it lightly. You're so much more sensitive than usual. It might be the cookies, or it might just be Jisung. Probably a dangerous mixture of the two.

You've never cum just from having your breasts played with but, there's a first time for everything if the increasing wetness staining your shorts and inner thighs is any indication. Jisung, for his part, is content to spend hours with your tits in his face and in his mouth. Licking, sucking and fondling to his heart's content while he desperately humps your thigh. The dream, really.

He's about to whine when you tug him off of you, but he's shut up by your tongue being shoved down his throat. Your hands frantically pushing his tank top up and off of him until his bare torso is free for you to explore. Smiling into him when he whimpers at the way your nails rake across his skin. A pitchy 'fuck' greeting your ears when you accidentally brush one of his nipples. Oh. Interesting.

Kissing and touching him is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, Jisung is fantastic with his mouth, and his firm chest is incredibly fun to explore. Figuring out which places garner you groans or whimpers or whines. Which ones make him grind into harder. Which leads to the other hand. You're so soaked and painfully empty, and kissing him isn't helping to soothe any of those flames.

"Jisung," you mutter against his mouth, your hands ghosting over the waistband of his sweats. Delighting in the way he shudders above you and his abdominal muscles jump under your barely there touches.

"Ye-Yeah?"

"I want you to fuck me, please," you whine into his ear, lightly biting down on his lobe, "it hurts."

Jisung exhales a very long sigh against your throat, "You're going to kill me."

A breathless laugh bubbles out of you when he pulls away to shove his sweats down. Any trace of humour vanishes quickly when his cock smacks against his toned stomach. He's so hard that it looks painful, flushed an angry shade of red, and glistening with pre-cum. You can't help but stare. Your walls clamping down harshly around nothing.

"I thought you wanted to get fucked?" He asks with an arrogant grin on his stupidly handsome face.

"Shut up," you respond, lifting your hips and letting your shorts join the heap of clothing on your bedroom floor. It's your turn to feel a little smug when Jisung's eyes zero in on your pussy. You don't think you've ever been this wet in your entire life, and you're too far gone to have any semblance of self-consciousness or embarrassment.

Jisung returns to his position between your thighs before you can fire out any quips, his cock nudging your entrance causing your head to spin and a soft moan to slip from you. "Stop teasing," you whine, wrapping your legs around his waist and clinging to his broad back.

"So-Sorry," is all the warning you receive before he very gradually starts sinking into you. god, it's never felt like this. Ever. With anyone else. Tears accumulate in your eyes, and a few roll down your face with every inch he pushes into you.

"Are you okay?" He asks lowly, kissing your cheek repeatedly and halting his movements.

"Yeah. Yes, Ji, I'm fine. Please don't stop," you practically moan, clawing into his back when he mumbles a curse and continues.

You can barely think, let alone breathe when he's fully sheathed inside of you. His cock pulsing inside of you violently and Jisung quivering above you, hushed moans of your name and whimpers being pressed into your shoulder. A whine hitting your ears when you squirm a little and tighten your hold around his waist.

"Wait, fuck. Wait, don't move," he moans, his hands grounding himself with his hold on your pillowy thighs. You struggle to comprehend his words. Everything is so muddled and overwhelming, and he just feels so fucking good, and he hasn't even moved yet.

At first, you assume Jisung's increase in sounds of pleasure and throbbing inside of you is just because he's as overwhelmed as you are. Every single nerve feeling like it's engulfed in flames. However, when his strained apologies register, you realise he came. Hot spurts of his cum flooding your eager pussy and open-mouthed kisses being pressed into your shoulder between apologies.

"Ji-Jisung,"

"I'm fuck I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to. It just happened. Fuck you must think I'm so pathetic-"

"Jisung, stop. It-It's okay. That was really hot actually," you mutter, and you mean it. If anything, you're flattered that you managed to make him cum so fast.

"What? Really?" He asks, blinking down at him. His pretty eyes beyond fucked out and sweat dotting his face. God, he's so pretty. Your pussy clenching involuntarily.

"Yea- Wait, are you still hard?" You ask, only realising now that he's still nestled deeply inside of you despite the cum that's gradually starting to dribble out of you.

He looks as shocked as you. Seemingly not realising that his own cock hadn't softened in the slightest. "Holy shit," he breathes, thrusting into you experimentally, drawing a whimper and your nails biting into his back in reaction.

"Remind me to go back to that bakery," he utters into your throat. Giving you little time to adjust before picking up his pace considerably. Between your wetness and his cum, he fucks into you easily. Your combined noises of pleasure echoing throughout your bedroom while you two lose yourselves in one another.

You've been teetering on the edge for what feels like ages. All it takes is for Jisung to find your sweet spot for your eyes to roll into the back of your head and your back to arch into him. Your lovely, lovely roommate fucking you through it all and exploiting your newly discovered weakness.

"That's it, baby," he groans into your ear, his hands holding you firmly in place and making you take each and every thrust he gives you, "You're taking me so well. You're doing so good."

Those words are going to be replaying in your mind for the rest of your life.

Your mind is utterly blank as the most intense orgasm you've ever experienced wreaks your body. Your thighs shaking violently, and your hands holding onto Jisung for dear life while you tighten around him. Fuck. Fuck. You're so full, and it's so much, but not enough at the same time.

"More, please. Jisung, please. I want more," you cry out, not caring in the slightest about the pathetic, desperate edge to your voice. All you're capable of thinking about is cumming on his cock over and over again and, him filling you with his cum until it's still leaking out of you days later.

"I've got you, baby," he whispers, the pet name he's grown a fondness for causing butterflies to arise in your stomach.

"We're far from being finished."

[reputationmunson]

hi mads! how r you? i was wondering if i may request a enemies to lovers with fake dating between reader and steve? where she's shy and kinda nice with everyone but somehow doesn't get along with him... and suddenly they have a situation and have to pretend to be dating... btw, love your writing!

i’m doing well and i hope you are too :) thank you for the request and i’m so happy you enjoy my writing that means so much to me! i hope you like this and i hope it's okay i'm making it multiple parts!

-

Crossing Lines | S.H x fem!reader

Part One | part two | part three | part 4

summary: Steve isn’t your biggest fan (understatement of the year), so why does he ask you to be his fake girlfriend for a wedding?

content: enemies to (eventual) lovers, fake dating, mentions of drinking, swearing, a guy at the bar is kind of creepy, mentions of reader and eddie having a past fling, use of y/n (not too often)

word count: 3.7K

a/n: this is a little shorter than I anticipated, but I’m going to try and make future parts longer.

_

There’s something strange about having an “enemy”. Especially when that enemy is Steve Harrington. You don’t exactly consider him an arch nemesis, but there’s really no other way you can describe your relationship with him. You aren’t friends with him by any means, not anymore, despite your several attempts at kindness.

Cupcakes you made him got thrown in the trash, smiles you’ve given him had been reciprocated with glares, and every time you spoke was the perfect time for him to roll his eyes.

No matter how many times you try to pinpoint a moment in your life where you might’ve offended him or done something to make him have such a great dislike for you, there’s nothing you can come up with.

You never had many interactions with Steve in high school, which isn’t very surprising. You always tried to stay in the background with your nose buried in a book and he was the complete opposite of that.

You admit you had a teeny tiny crush on him in high school, much like the other girls. How could you not? He was so charismatic and carried himself with confidence. You weren’t as immune to the Harrington charm as much as you liked to pretend you were.

It wasn’t until he became friends with Robin a few years ago that you had your first real conversation with him. She’s been your best friend since you were six and if she was convinced he changed, then you were willing to give him a chance.

He seemed like a completely different person than the boy you used to pass in the halls as he talked about how wasted he got the night before with his herd of wannabe Steves.

He was friendly and also a little bit of a clutz. Sort of awkward, as well. He was still handsome, though. A lot more handsome. His eyes were kinder and his hair as lovely as ever. You always wondered how it managed to still look so soft after that much product usage.

After the first two months of what seemed to be a friendship, he flipped the switch. His words to you became grumbles and he always kept a distance from you, like he’d go into anaphylactic shock if any part of him accidentally brushed yours.

It drove you mad. The one thing in life you always tried to do was treat everyone with kindness no matter what and he made it nearly impossible. You had more friends in your life now than you thought imaginable and it was nearly perfect, but all you seemed to be focused on is how much Steve hates you.

From Steve’s point of view, he would never outright say that he hates you. It’s more of an annoyance. Your shared friend group constantly raves about how great and delightful you are. The kids, who aren’t kids anymore but always will be to Steve, idolize you. Everyone thinks you walk around with rainbows and sprinkles shooting out of every single one of your orifices.

You and your delicious baked goods that you make in celebration every time someone so much finds a lucky penny on the ground. You and your stupid perfume that makes you smell like a damn bouquet of flowers. Your dumb dimples and eyes that some might claim light up a room every time you smile. Don’t even get him started on the short, nonsensical pleated skirts you wear.

You’ll probably be wearing one of those skirts tonight when you all go out for drinks later and he dreads it, terribly. Definitely not because he’s attracted to you, no, that’s insane, but because of all the guys that are going to swoon over you and he’ll have to be responsible for making sure none of those creeps try to touch you.

Robin made it very clear to him early on that you are off limits. She told him he wasn’t ready for a girl like you. You’re different from the girls he takes on dates and sleeps with. You aren’t a ‘hit it and quit it’ kind of gal, as she put it. . She said you’re a hopeless romantic, spending the rest of your life with one person, the type of love they write songs about, kind of gal. Steve wants to settle down one day, but he also isn’t ready for that yet.

Apparently, Robin forgot to give Eddie the same speech because Steve caught the two of you in a hot and heavy makeout sesh at a party awhile ago. Steve put all of the puzzle pieces together that you and Eddie were secretly hooking up. It wasn’t hard to figure out with all the glances, giggles, and body language. Plus, the sexual tension was so obvious.

No one else knew, neither of you even know that Steve’s aware anything ever happened.

Yes, you and Eddie were hooking up. Past tense. It was nice at first, way more than nice. You’d never done the whole no strings attached thing and you felt comfortable with him, but then you both quickly realized that it would end in complete disaster and called off the agreement. Surprisingly, there was no awkwardness after, but you did miss him sometimes.

It was gratifying to be out of your comfort zone, but you needed more. You wanted a love that felt like an easy Sunday morning everyday, but as long as you were confined to Hawkins, you doubt that you’d ever find it.

-

The bar was absolutely packed tonight, crawling with regulars, college kids back for the summer, and high school students with fake ids. There was a bachelor party sitting in the corner shouting obscenities and catcalling any girl that walked by them.

It was overwhelming. Usually this place, even on its busiest night, is still manageable to walk to.

Your walk to the table where your friends are sat feels like you’re climbing mount everest.

“y/n! you’re here!” Robin hops out of her seat at the high top table and throws her arms around you, squeezing you a little too tight. You can smell the tequila on her breath and her cheeks are flushed. That, combined with her affection for you, alerts you she’s one drink away from being hammered.

Everyone else happily greets you, apart from Steve who gives you a tight lipped smile and takes a drink of his beer so he doesn’t have to say hi because god forbid he speaks one of the shortest words in the english language to you.

“I’m gonna go grab a drink. Does anyone need anything?” you ask. ���I’ll go get your drink. It’s a madhouse in here, what do ya want?” Eddie offers and you lay your hand on his shoulder, making Steve subtly roll his eyes so no one notices. “That’s sweet, Eds, thank you. I’ll have a vodka cran please”

“He’s, like, so in love with you” Robin says and you laugh. Steve laughs too, but not out of being humored like you are. “He’s not in love with me. He’s just nice, unlike most of the guys in here” you say the last part a bit louder and look at Steve when you say it. His eyes roll again and you think that must be the only thing he’s good at because he does it all the time.

“Your beverage, madam” Eddie says as he hands you your drink and sets down a tray of tequila shots for the table. “Do we really need more shots, Eddie?” Steve groans. “Tapping out already, Harrington? I guess we shouldn’t be surprised” you tease and he scoffs. ���Oh, that’s just rich coming from you”

“heyheyhey, can you two have your lovers quarrel another time? We’re all here to have a good time, okay?” Robin reminds you and you give her a sorry smile. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Let’s not waste this tequila!” you exclaim

You all cheers your shot glasses and when you lick the salt of your hand, Steve’s eyes can’t leave you. He’s still staring when you put the lime in your mouth afterwards, you close your eyes in satisfaction and suck out all the juices. He hopes he never has to watch you take another shot again.

When your eyes open, you see Steve staring at you and he immediately looks away and pretends to be occupied by whatever the bachelor party to his left is doing. His mind drifts to the wedding he has to go to next weekend. One of his cousins on his fathers side of the family is getting married and he’s dreading it. Being surrounded by his snooty, rich family members who are all CEO’s of some business and they’re all married to or engaged to the ‘perfect woman’ that they undoubtedly cheat on while away on ‘business’ trips.

Speaking of business, they can’t keep their noses out of Steve’s life. When are you going to get a ‘real’ job?, when are you gonna settle down and have kids?, are you still living in that tiny apartment?. So no, he isn’t exactly looking forward to telling his family he’s a single loser who practically lives in a shoebox.

“Steve? Are you okay?” your voice brings him back from his thoughts. “Yep. perfectly fine”

“Ya sure? You seem distracted” he hates that you care. Eighty percent of the time, you’re still so nice to him, apart from a few jabs every now and then, despite his coldness towards you. “Just thinking, so you don’t have to pretend that you care.”

“Okay…I’m gonna go to the bathroom” you say before leaving the table.

“Why are you such a dick to her? She’s the nicest one out of all of us.” Eddie’s tone is sharp as he defends you. “I’m just stressed about this wedding I have to go to and my entire family is going to be there and I’m the only one without a date so that’s just another thing they’re going to criticize me for” Steve sighs and looks down at his drink.

“How about that girl you went out with last month? Trisha?” Nancy suggests and Steve scrunches his nose. “No can do. I realized I slept with her roommate after the first date” he cringes at the memory of walking into her apartment and seeing a familiar face sitting on the couch.

“You could borrow nance? She’d just have to take off the engagement ring” Jonathan jokes and the table laughs. Steve considers it for a half of a second, but realizes his parents already know about her engagement to jonathan. “Nice job, Steve. You let the only decent girl who liked you get away and now she’s with that byers boy” he recalls his dad saying in a snarky tone.

“I have the perfect idea!” Robin exclaims and everyone waits for her to continue “you should ask y/n to be your date!”

“That’s a terrible idea, Robin. Why would I do that?” It isn’t a terrible idea. His family would be over the mood to see him with a girl like you. You’re kind, funny, smart and gorgeous, but he’d never admit those things to anyone, least of all you. But the thought of spending a whole weekend with you seems like torture.

“Actually, that could work. You need to get over this weird hatred you have for her and this could be some good bonding! Maybe you’ll finally realize how great she is” Nancy states. “I know you all worship the ground she works on, but that isn’t good enough reason to ask her to pretend to be my girlfriend”

“Just think about it, okay?” Nancy says, kindly and he half-heartedly nods. The conversation ceases as you arrive back at the table and everyone stares at you. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“No. Nothing. We just missed you” You know Robin is acting weird about something, but you let it go. “um, okay. I missed you guys too for the whole five minutes I was gone. I'm gonna go get another drink.” you tell them before making your way to the bar.

“Hey, beautiful. Wanna take a shot with us?” One of the men from the bachelor party asks as you walk by their table. “No thanks. Have a good night, guys” you walk away and hope they leave you alone.

One of the guys gets up to follow you. Steve’s keeping an eye on you and moves to get up when he sees the guy following you. “I’ll be right back, guys”

“C’mon, baby, let me buy you a drink” Steve hears him say to you as you’re standing at the bar. You look uncomfortable and with the bar packed, you barely have a way to escape. “I already said no. Just go back to your friends”

When he moves closer, Steve steps in between the two of you. “She said no, man. Just leave her alone, alright?”

“you her boyfriend?” he slurs and Steve can’t believe the words that come out of his mouth “yeah, i am. so, fuck off, okay?” your eyes widen when Steve says he’s your boyfriend.

“Alright, alright.” the guy puts his hand up in defense “she’s all yours, buddy”

“are you okay? you’re not gonna cry or anything are you?” he asks when he turns around to face you. “No, I'm fine. You didn’t have to do that. Thank you” you smile at him sweetly.

“It’s whatever. Don’t let it get to your head” And just like that the Steve you know is back. “Can you tell everyone that I went outside for some air?” you ask and he nods then you go your separate ways. He watches the door to make sure you get outside alright.

“So, hypothetically” Steve starts once he returns to the table “How would I go about asking her to be my fake girlfriend?”

“Just be honest about it. Oh! and offer to pay for everything!” Robin says. Her advice could not be more vague. “I still think this is a terrible idea, but I literally have no other options, so when this goes to shit just remember it was all of your fault” he tells them before turning around and bearing the crowd to get outside.

When he walks out the door and into the fresh air, he sees you standing up against the brick exterior of the building. “Don’t tell me you came out here to check on me. Thought you said I shouldn’t let anything go to my head?” you raise your eyebrows at him.

“You are not making this any easier” He puts his hands on his hips and throws his head back, letting out a sigh. “Making what any easier?”

“I have a proposition for you”

“I don’t do prostitution, Steve”

“It’s not- would you just let me talk?” he groans and you make a zipping motion over your lips and throw away the invisible key. “Okay, you owe me a favor after what I did for you, right?- don’t make that face you totally do- anyways, I have a wedding to go next weekend and my family is always harping on me about having a girlfriend and I was thinking-”

“you want me to be your girlfriend?” you ask in a skeptical tone.

“What did I say about letting me talk? and no not girlfriend, fake girlfriend. Just for three days”

“You can barely stand to be around me and you want me to be your pretend girlfriend?”

“Look, I know it’s weird, but we don't have to worry about feelings or some shit like that being a problem because there’s no way that would happen” he explains. “What do I get out of it?”

“A super fancy hotel and all expenses paid. You’ll even get to pretend that you’re dating someone as hot as I am” he smirks and you huff out a humorless laugh. “You’ll pay for everything?” he nods “you’ll drive, too? I hate driving” he nods again “and you’ll be nice to me?”

“Ugh, fine, okay. I will be so nice to you that you’ll puke. Is that a yes?”

“Sure, why not. Can I talk in a British accent and pretend to be part of the royal family? ya know, to fit in with the rich people?”

“Absolutely not”

“Why are you no fun, Stevie?” you whine. “Stevie?” his brows furrow. “yeah, i’m thinking that as your new girlfriend, my nickname for you is Stevie”

“Fake girlfriend” he reminds you “Stevie, you’re so uptight.” you pout at him and he hates himself for his eyes lingering on your lips.

“So, what time should I come over tomorrow?” you ask like you’ve already been invited to his apartment. “What?”

“We need to hang out so you can get used to not acting like I don’t have the plague. Plus, we need to get to know each other” you state. “Fine. Come over tomorrow night and we’ll go over everything”

“Looking forward to it, Stevie”

_

You knock on Steve’s door at 8 p.m. sharp with a bottle of wine in hand because let’s face it, you’re both going to need it. “Hi, Steviekins” you greet as he opens the door. “That’s worse than Stevie”

“You love Stevie and you know it”

“Just come inside” he grumbles. “I ordered a pizza if you want a slice. It’s in the kitchen”

Once the wine is poured and you sit on the couch to eat, you pull out your notebook and two pens from your bag. “Are we writing each other love notes or something?”

“No, doofus. We’re taking notes on each other. Our likes, dislikes, details about our relationship” you tear out a piece of paper and give him a pen. Even your pens and notebook were nauseatingly adorable. “If I knew this was going to be like school I would’ve asked Robin”

“ha!” you laugh loudly “she would punch you if you tried to hold her hand or do anything that was even remotely romantic” you point out “and you’re not going to punch me?”

“I’d like to say no, but I’d hate to be a liar”

You and Steve practically chug your wine and pour a second glass before playing your own version of twenty questions.

“What’s your favorite color?” you ask to start. “My favorite color? you really think my family is going to question you on shit like that?” he responds and you glare at him. “Okay, fine. um, blue, I guess”

“That’s so basic”

“Then what’s yours?”

“all of them” you reply. “all of them? really?” he snidely remarks. “yes, moving on”

You learn an abundant amount of things about each other, much against Steve’s will. You know each other's favorite candies, movies, songs, all the way to childhood memories and discussing scars you have and how you got them.

Then you moved on to the details of your relationship. Friends first, fell in love, you know the deal. You’ve “been together” for five months. Long enough that it’s somewhat serious, short enough for it to make sense that you haven’t met his parents yet.

The bottle of wine is almost gone and Steve’s cheeks are flushed and his eyes are a bit glossy. If he wasn’t the bane of your existence, you might even think he looks pretty.

“Can I ask you a question? and not one about your favorite food or anything like that” you ask in a soft voice and you seem a little nervous. “Sure, go ahead.”

“Why did you ask me to do this? i’m like the last person you should’ve asked”

“That’s actually why I asked. If I asked a girl that has any romantic interest in me at all, then it might get confusing, ya know? With you, once these three days are over we can go back to normal. There’s no risk of us falling for each other”

“Oh, I guess that makes sense. I have an observation, by the way. You always speak of love like it’s a terrible thing. Why is that”

“Holy shit that’s a loaded question. Um, well the first time I was in love was in high school and we all know how that turned out. Haven’t been in a serious relationship since so I guess it’s hard for me to believe that it’s as great as everyone says it is” he sighs. He’s never drinking wine again. If it makes him this vulnerable with you he can’t imagine what it would be like if someone else was sitting here.

“Do you still love her? Nancy?” you wonder. “No, I don’t. I have love for her, but just as a friend. What about you?”

“No, I’m not in love with Nancy. She’s pretty and all, but can’t say i’m in love with her”

“Shut up, you know what I mean. You’re always raving about some dumb romance novel, yet I’ve never seen you with a boyfriend.” he says and you sigh “There’s not much to tell. Hopeless romantic with standards that are too high”

There’s a hint of sadness in your voice and you clear your throat before speaking up again. “So, I think that’s enough for tonight. I know way more about you than I ever wanted to”

“Right back at ya. I’ll walk you to the door”

“It’s a short distance, I’ll manage”

“Hey, I gotta start working on being chivalrous as your fake boyfriend. Can you stop being stubborn for one second?”

He walks you ten steps to the door and even opens it for you. “Same time tomorrow night? unless you're busy” you say, halfway out the door. “What could we possibly have left to learn about each other?”

“We still have to work on acting like we’re in love. You might have to put your arm around me this weekend. Oh, the horrors!” you gasp dramatically and he suppresses a laugh because he refuses to let you think you have the ability to make him laugh.

“Tomorrow's fine. But if something comes up and you have to skip that would totally be okay”

“You’re such an ass” you whine. “Not as much as you are” he retorts.

You flip him off as you walk away and he does the same.

He can’t wait for next weekend to be over so he can go back to pretending like you barely even exist.

-

part two coming soon to a screen near you ;)

-

[stubz]

"Maverick is here."

"Hi Maverick! Want some coffee?" the human groaned.

"Only if it's Irish..."

"Heh, if only."

The two humans tried but couldn't help the shift of tone when talking about the youngling. Couldn't help the sighs or forced enthusiasm when it came to Maverick.

Maverick, age 6, species Ewelsjay, and the unknowing arch nemesis of Kim and Max.

.

"Maverick get down from there!" the man shouted up to the child dangling from the fire sprinklers.

"But it's fun!" giggled the child.

"They're not for climbing! Get down now!"

"No I'm no-!" the sprinkler snapped.

"I told him," he growled running towards the crying youngling. "a million times I told him don't climb the sprinklers! They're not for climbing! But did he listen? Nooooo."

..

"Maverick! What happened!?"

"Mr. Aurum, Maverick climbed the fire sprinklers and fell when they broke. Luckily it wasn't that high and he landed on the mats, he only has a bruise and scrapped knee."

"And you let him??"

"..No. I did not. We have told Maverick multiple times not to climb them because of this very reason."

"Oh Mavy. You need to listen your teachers. I'll have a talk with him."

"See you tomorrow then."

...

"And he looked at me as if I let his kid climb the sprinklers!!" he took a swig of his Irish coffee.

"Tell me about it...the guy acts as if it's always our fault. One time he told me it was my job that his kid puts his bag in his locker. His 6 year old kid...he's 6 years old! I tell him and sometimes he does it but most of the time he looks me in the eyes and says you do it."

"Exactly! We're not servants!"

"Gah please let them move or switch schools!"

....

"All right kids, foods ready so line up."

"But before you grab a plate let us tell you what's just for the humans today. The kitchen made an accident today and put in too much of a spice that can be dangerous for other species, it's the blue pot. Okay? Only humans can eat that."

"Human kids, only have a little to start with because its spicy. If you like it then you can have more later."

The kids nodded and started to serve themselves, only the humans taking food from the blue pot.

When they ate the adults chuckled and smiled watching their fellow humans eat the spicy curry. Some kids loved it for the spice or flavor while others chugged their milk. They're non-human friends laughed or gasped.

"Human Kim, can I try some?"

"Sorry Maverick but not today. It's not safe for some of you kids. We'll have this again on Friday though and we'll make sure it's safe for the rest of you kids."

"Aw. Okay." the human cracked a small smile and ruffled his golden hair.

"How about you try some of this? It from the same place on earth."

"It's green!"

.....

"Excuse me, Max and Kim? Maverick told me something very concerning yesterday."

"Oh, what was it?"

He told me that yesterday there was a dish just for the humans. That no one but humans were allowed to eat it." the Ewelsjay glared at them.

'Here we go' they both thought.

"Mr. Aurum the kitchen made a mistake when making one of the dishes yesterday and put in too much of a spice that is dangerous to most species. So to not waste the food and keep the others safe we only allowed the human children to eat it.

This was a simple mistake and Kim has talked to the kitchen already and made arrangements to make the dish again on Friday."

"Really? 'Too much spice' is what stopped my child from eating? Unbelievable."

"...listen-"

"Sir, this type of spice is one that can be rather harmful to younglings, even adults, and since we couldn't quite call everyone's parents asking for permission we decided to play it safe." the human placed a hand on her co-workers back. Trying her best to calm her friend. Even though she too wanted to rip Aurum a new one.

"I'll be the judge of that. Tell me, what's the name of the dish and how exactly the kitchen made it."

"Mr. Aurum I don't think-"

"Goat curry and it has many different variations but this recipe had 1 seeded scotch bonnet pepper."

And with that the Ewelsjay left with his son.

"Are you sure that was a good idea?"

"No but I don't care. Besides as much as an a-hole he is there's no way he'll let Maverick eat it before he tries it first."

"Ooo the perfect crime."

*the next day*

"Teachers teachers teachers!"

"Yes Maverick?"

"My Dad tried the goat carry and his face turned bright orange! He took one bite and then screamed for water but it didn't help."

"Yeah water doesn't do much. Rookie mistake."

"Yeah but then I remembered what teacher Kim said about milk and gave him that and it helped!"

"So how's your Dad now?"

"He's stuck in the bathroom still drinking milk." he said so matter of factly making the humans snort.

"A-and now do you see why we didn't want you eating it?" asked Max trying his best not to laugh.

"Yeah...I guess I should be listening to you two. You are my teachers."

"Glad to hear that. Now go to put your stuff away and play."

"Okay!" once he was out of earshot the two finally allowed themselves to laugh till they cried.

Maverick was a handful most times but moments like these reminded the two that he was a kid. And kids learn from those around them. Hopeful Mr. Aurum would learn what his son did today, listen to the teachers.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Vlad. Just... Vlad.

I like writing Vlad as a bad guy - he is convenient when evil. Need an antagonist? Here's a solid choice. I also like writing Vlad as redeemed - he has the potential to be good and nice and even caring. He's not an evil by core character, he's just in great need of therapy.

But my absolute favorite way of writing Vlad is the slightly condescending absent parent who doesn't like kids but still cares about them.

He won't do great with actual babies, yes, he is not sweet, he doesn't smile a lot, and he views kids as nuisances most of the time. But at the same time, he doesn't brush them off when they come to him. Jazz wants to go to an Ivy League college? Yeah, okay, he'll pay for it no questions asked. Because student loans are a bitch and Jazz is smart and she is his now. They don't get along, they barely talk, but she is his. Danny is mad at something about Infinite Realms business and snaps at him for no reason? Vlad is never one to back down from a fight, and by the end of it Danny is not so fuming anymore, and Vlad got to test his new ectoblast. Dani is back from her travels and decides to unload all her new bizarre stories on him? He is not interested, but he'll listen because otherwise she is going to start pouting and roll her eyes, and he doesn't want to deal with that. Dan asks if he could go hunt some ghost vultures for sport on his grounds? Danny might get mad later, but that's none of Vlad's concerns, and, besides, those vultures were starting to get annoying lately.

He's just... not a good parent and not a good person. He is mostly decent.

But the thing is, all the ex-Fenton kids don't need a good parent in terms of 'friendly, sweet and nice', they've had Jack and Maddie, they know the friendliness doesn't really mean shit. What they need is an adult that will back them up with no reprimand and then fuck off right after.

And Vlad is perfect in that sense.

What's funny about this is that when Phantoms/Masters meet Waynes/Bats, the latter ones are a bit thrown off by this dynamic. Like, what do you mean your adoptive father is your former arch-nemesis? What do you mean he didn't really stop doing his evil schemes? Surely he can't be good! Meanwhile, Danny just shrugs.

On the other hand, what do you mean your father won't allow you to do what you want? What do you mean he acts on your behalf? Does he not trust you with your own decisions? And Batkids are just 'he means well'. Yeah, well, Vlad also means well (most times), but he doesn't ground anyone? If Bruce means well, then why do you all act like you're annoyed with him?..

[coveholdenmyluv]

Mean Girls - Eren Jaeger

synopsis. Eren's the new kid at Trost Academy and being fresh meat in his senior year isn't easy. Especially so when the only friends he's made yet have managed to convince him to help them mess with "The Plastics". The problem?

He's got the biggest crush on their queen bee, Y/N.

series masterlist.

chapter warnings. Foul language, rich ppl, mentions of vomit, mentions of shitting your pants (what even are these warnings LMAO), laxatives, mentions of giving a character laxatives, hitch is a bitch (I love her I’m sorry I made her like this), drama drama drama, a lot of menstrual product talk (these characters are very comfortable talking abt these things!)

chapter synopsis. From a brawl at the supermarket to a meeting with the Queen bee’s arch nemesis, our trio’s plan preparations seem to be coming together! Though, will learning some lore regarding our resident plastics impede on Eren’s drive? Perhaps the future isn’t looking so bright for our revenge seekers…

chapter 2. Fuck with the Plastics: start

"Bag secured, over." Mikasa spoke in her usual monotone voice.

"And... you're completely sure that this will only make her a bit gassy, right 'kasa?" Armin spoke next, the shake in his voice painfully obvious even through the speaker of Eren's phone. With no answer, he tries again, "Guys? Hello?"

Silence.

"You're supposed to say 'over', Armin!"

"Oh! Over."

"Alright, mine is secured too... over?" Eren announced as he slipped his arm through the plastic bag, doing his best to be inconspicuous, though the hood over his head isn't helping his case. His attire was mostly to calm his troubled conscience.

The three way call had one purpose and a very important one at that.

Phase one of 'Fuck with The Plastics'.

"Good boy," Mikasa purred and Eren swore he could hear the mischievous grin his reply had caused to form on her face. "Now Armin, relax. All this is gonna do is make her tummy a bit upset, a little gas here and there never hurt anyone. She'll get the humiliation she made Eren bear... only much much worse because of her status, plus ruin her chances of winning this highly anticipated game and possibly her entire athletic career. Over."

"Please, stop repeating what could go wrong. I'm getting nauseous again..." Eren groans into the speaker.

"Mikasa, you say that now but, what if she's allergic to it or something? Ohmylanta, what if she dies?!" Armin screeches and Eren fears he may begin to wail soon. "I don't wanna go to jail guys! I can't go back!"

"Geez Louise, Armin." Eren winces as he pulls the phone away from his ear. "My ears are bleeding."

"Oh wait Eren, now that you reminded me, can you get me some pads from the store? My cycle is pretty heavy today." Mikasa asks.

"Uh, T-M-I Mikasa..." Armin mutters as he glances around the student aid center. His portion of contribution to the trio's master plan is arguably the least interesting, though the boy didn't seem to mind. All he was put in charge of was attaining their tickets for the game, which they receive free of charge with their student ID's.

"Mikasa, I'm literally already walking out of the store." Eren says exasperatedly, though his pace has already begun to falter in preparation for his U-turn.

"Well then, go back? If I bleed out all over the bleachers, it's your jacket I'm using to wipe it clean. The ball is in your court."

"Oh my gosh, fine!" Eren relents. "What size?"

"XXL."

Silence reigns over the three, and Eren swears everyone in the supermarket had audibly halted all movements along with them.

"Mikasa, you know damn well..." Armin begins.

"Armin! Shut the hell up, the length helps with my leakage so mind your own business!"

"Zayum, okay geez."

"Wings or no wings?" Eren asks, already having made his way back into the multiple isles freshly restocked.

"Wings, please. I want to be ready for anything." The girl answers ominously.

"I don't even want to know what that means. I'll head back to the academy after I'm done with this, where do you guys want to meet?"

"The restrooms near the cafeteria are right beside the doors that lead to a path straight to the stadium. We can meet there." Armin suggests, already beginning to make his way towards the meeting spot.

"Okay. Actually, since I'm here, do you guys want any snacks for the game?" Eren asks while he grabs a box of fruit roll ups and a bag of hot Cheetos for himself. "How long does a soccer game last?"

"A little under an hour and thirty minutes, and that's if they don't go into over time which they probably will, considering who they're playing against." Mikasa answers, "Oh, and I'll take an oat meal crème pie and a red Gatorade. But! The one with the twistable cap that you can suck on."

"We'll see how long this one will last with what we have planned, though." Armin mutters into the speaker anxiously, "Anyway, I'll take some Skittles, baby Gerber puffs, Teddy Grahams, Hubba Bubba, strawberry Hello Pandas, Scooby-Doo snacks, Gushers, Pirate's Booty-"

Eren hangs up before the other boy could finish, deciding it wasn't worth his weekly allowance.

He had already arrived at the feminine hygiene products aisle by the time Armin had sent him the remaining 27 items on his wishlist for tonight, which Eren promptly ignored. The wall that held most of the menstrual supplies was expanse and slightly intimidating to the teenage boy's eyes, though that was not to say he was taken off guard. Having a close relationship with your mother desensitizes you to a large amount of aspects of womanhood that most immature boys his age would either cringe at or ridicule.

He knows the brand his mother uses is best for absorbing, but they're not the best at being discreet. He wonders which Mikasa would prefer, though he decides that coverage and preventing leakage must have been her priority considering her earlier words. Deciding upon the trustworthy brand he had always picked up on late night pad runs with his mom, he notices how it seems to be the only brand that has yet to be restocked. The one in his hand being the very last one in XXL.

As he turns to leave the isle, a high pitched voice, practically whining curse words, catches his attention. Before he instinctively turns his head towards the sound, he internally prays for there to be no reenactment of his first encounter with Armin, knowing he couldn't bear to handle another stereotypical bully, much less work up the courage to stand up to them once more. 

"They don't have that one today, I swear I've looked everywhere!" The, now visible, person speaks into the cell phone clutched to his ear. "I don't know? Does everyone suddenly use the biggest size available? I know you do not need double X."

It seems to be a young boy, perhaps only a few years younger than Eren himself, with messily styled H/C hair and a few piercings adorning his delicate face.

"The one with the purple flowers on the box or the navy blue one with the stars?" The young boy asks, his impatience slowly making its way into his features.

Wait, purple flowers?

Eren's gaze moves back toward the box in his hands and his eyes trace those exact purple flowers printed and plastered smack dab in the center. Though, he knows there are tons of other brands that use matching floral patterns, perhaps this boy was looking for the one with the green background instead of the pink one Eren held.

"The one with the pink box, right?" The boy asks.

Well, perhaps he was searching for the 7 hour wear edition instead of the 8 hour one Eren got for Mikasa. Surely that was the case-

"8 hour version? Do you need to charge it or something, why is there a time limit?"

Certainly he couldn't be looking for the same size, not many people would be as paranoid as Mikasa due to leakage-

"Mm, XXL? Oh, cause of leakage, got it."

Run, that's what Eren needs to do. He knows how far passionate boyfriends would go for their lovers, especially ones as young as the boy he is sharing the aisle with. Kids his age will either pay romantic relationships no heed or take them far too seriously.

Though, before he could pivot in the other direction, the boy ends the call and turns to presumably search for the pink floral box in the size XXL. Coincidentally, the exact box Eren plans to buy.

The last box.

Green meets E/C.

His heart drops to his ass and his arm hastily shields the prized object behind his back as visible sweat forms on his forehead. Though, truly his efforts were all for naught.

Silence follows as the two teenagers hold eye contact, one accompanied with worry creases near his brows and the other with an unamused pout to his lips.

"Those are the last double X they have in stock, aren't they?"

"...Perchance..."

The H/C boy sighs and holds his hands up in surrender. "Look, dude. I come in peace, it's fine. What do I look like to you? Someone who would go batshit over menstrual products?" Eren shakes his head hastily, to which the younger boy agrees. Of course, what was Eren thinking? Incriminating a person who looked to be no older than the age of 15 was not cool on his part.

"You're right, My bad."

Letting any past thoughts flee his mind, Eren resumes his standstill with the stranger, neither seemingly knowing what to do next...

...before the stranger juts a finger behind Eren and exclaims, "Hey, look over there, it's TSwift!"

"What?! Where?!"

Eren was tackled to the ground and landed with a coherent 'oof', the assailant clambering on top of his chest and tugging at his arms to loosen the tight grip on the box that remains in his hands.

"That was a low blow, you psycho! I haven't seen her since I was in fifth grade!" Eren whines as he tries to free himself. Deciding that his actions were amounting to nothing, he thrusts the box away from his body and above his head, the cardboard sliding across the tiled floor of the supermarket.

"Morality is non-existent when it comes to the last box of pads, pretty boy!" The younger boy grits as he abandons Eren's body in favor of stumbling to his feet to reach the box.

As the boy steps over his head, Eren grabs onto one of his leather boots, causing him to plummet with his fingers outstretched only inches away from the prize. Eren flips himself onto his stomach and scrambles over the other boy, laying a palm atop his face to thwart his vision. In retaliation, though not after a sharp squawk, the boy chomps on the fingers overlaid his mouth, causing the brunet to cry out in pain.

"Give up!" The boy demands, "I don't care if I have to bite every one of your fingers off, I'll be leaving with that box!" He declares and delivers a torturous blow to Eren's crotch, causing him to wheeze and topple over in pain. "Aha!" The boy proclaims as he nears his victory, emitting a cry of premature success.

Though, before his slender fingers are able to reach the jackpot, his worst fear is born into existence.

"My Prada boots!" He squeals in agony and fear as Eren holds the cherished shoe above his head triumphantly and a pained smirk creases onto his face. "Don't you dare you monster, they're monolith!"

"You rich people are all the same," Eren scoffs as he throws the boot aways behind him, not sparing a glance in the direction as the boy abandons the box in favor of running over to his beloved shoe. Eren limps over to the pink box and swipes it up with an exhausted sigh escaping his lips. "I win." He states in a cocky tone, taking pride over the brawl he emerged victorious from, already preening at the amount of bragging rights he had just earned himself. "Mikasa, you owe me big time- ack!"

Not without a war cry, the unrelenting stranger rams a shopping cart into Eren's body, forcing the brunet back onto the ground and causing the box to slip out of his grasp and slide onto the floor once again.

"Never mess with my Prada boots again," He heaves and delicately steps over to the abandoned box, taking it into his hold and placing a kiss atop the the printed flowers. "Auggie, you're awesome." He then turns to face Eren and boldly upturns his pierced nose at the sight of the older boy sprawled on the floor. "You put up a good fight, unfortunately for you I reign superio-"

"I didn't hear a bell!" Eren shouts as he springs up and tackles the shorter boy, resulting in the two wrestling on the ground once again, just as they had originally started. Scratching, kicking, and biting their way across the floor, though noticeably making zero progress towards the box they both sought out.

An awkward cough acts as the bucket of cold water that halts their movements, both boys craning their heads in the direction of the sound alike deers in headlights.

An employee that hauled a cart filled to the brim with pink cardboard boxes and printed purple flowers decorating their surfaces stood before their tangled ball of limbs, gifting them a critical stare. Leisurely, and hesitatingly so, she tucks the prized boxes where they belong, before scurrying away with her haul of products stacked into her squeaky cart.

An air of silence follows the departure of the poor retail worker, both boys remaining stunned by the sudden appearance. Though, after realizing what a compromising position they had been caught in, the unraveling of their limbs went unspoken as they stood simultaneously.

Another awkward cough, though this one originating from the brunet, filled the vacant space between the two. Eren grabs ahold of one of the boxes that was recently stocked, his head hanging low in embarrassment. "So..." He utters hesitatingly.

The younger boy clears his throat, "M sry." He mutters.

"What?"

"I said I'm sorry! ...I know that Tswift joke was wrong of me."

Eren sighs in resignation, now realizing how idiotic his actions were, especially considering the fact that he seemed to be the older of the two. "It's fine. I guess we were both signed up for errand boy today, huh?"

The stranger shook his head, "Yeah but, to be honest, this is my first time going on a pad run for my sister. I wasn't 'old enough' a few years ago, and even then we don't usually do our own shopping. Our butler handles all of that."

"Oh..." It was stupid of Eren to forget that most people in his city were lathered in riches, but he did. His recent encounter with this new boy only furthered his forgetfulness, because what sort of opulent teenage boy was willing to engage in a full out brawl for a box of pads? "Well, either way. I'm guessing these aren't for you?"

"Nah, they're for my sister's friends. But, she can get pretty impatient real quickly and I'm not in the mood to deal with teenage Godzilla. She'd probably run me over with her convertible."

The mental image of Godzilla driving a convertible, only to then run over an edgy teen made Eren chuckle, "I get it, this size seems to be in high demand."

"My sister says that it's because of leakage, whatever the hell that means. I don't even think I want to know."

Eren smiled sympathetically, little brother ignorance was something he knew about all too well. "So, why are you here instead of your butler? I think I would have stood a better chance against him if I'm being honest."

The boy shrugs nonchalantly, "She says it's an emergency. Those girls can get pretty scary when in a state of panic. For being older than me, you'd think they'd be better at dealing with stress."

"I understand completely." Eren huffed in exhaustion, "My friends and I are dealing with these real popular kids at our school, we've got an ulterior motive of course, but we've seen a fair share of their antics and I can tell we'll have our hands full. At least the pay off will be worth it. We have a whole plan and everything."

The boy cackled a laugh that shook his whole body and clapped a palm onto the older boy's shoulder, "You don't say? What's such a good prize worth dealing with what seems to be a bunch of rich maggots eating away at your soul?" He asked.

"Well, it has to do with this girl..." Eren begun to attempt to elucidate the entire situation to this stranger but in the end only arrived with stutters, before he decided that the effort of reliving his trauma was not worth it. He sighed, "It's a long story."

Unexpectedly, a highly pitched rendition of 'I'm Just a Kid' began to chime in the stranger's pants, causing him to wince and groan in annoyance. "A story that I can't stay for, unfortunately." He muttered before slipping the device out of his pocket. "It's Godzilla." He confirmed his suspicions but made no moves to accept the call. Instead, he offered a jeweled hand towards the brunet.

This hand wasn't like the one that was offered to him earlier today. Instead of diamonds and gold, silver and various colored stones wrapped around this boy's digits, crowning them with luxury and status.

"My name's Augustine, but you can call me August." He paired with a friendly grin, bringing attention to the silver lip ring hung on his bottom lip.

For some reason, this boy struck something within Eren. He didn't know what it was, but there was a sense of reminiscence flooding his senses when he stared at his smile. The reminiscence that creeps up on you when you look at your sibling and recognize that the shirt they have on is in fact not theirs but yours.

He can't put his finger on it... but August reminded him of someone.

Nonetheless, he excepted his dressed hand with his own bare one. "Eren, it's just Eren."

"Alright, just Eren. I have to go, but hopefully I'll see you around!" August called out as he scampered down the aisle before Eren could have gotten another word of parting out.

What a nice guy, Eren hopes to see him again.

After grabbing the snacks that his newest friends had ordered, promptly ignoring 25 items on Armin's list, he pays the nice woman working the register and makes his departure. By the time he steps back on the pavement, the sun has begun its decent, painting the concrete buildings and vibrant trees in a golden hue.

Trost truly is a beautiful district — the architecture alone places it on a superior level when compared to many other extravagant districts out there.

Eren himself has never lived the kind of life that his new friends or acquaintances were born into. Although having a successful doctor for a dad, it was never an aspect that had ever brought upon wealth for the Jeager family. His mom rapidly rising in her fashion designer career is what has brought him to such a district as this one. Mrs. Jaeger is well on her way to being known for her individuality, and he couldn't be filled with more pride.

Having to leave his old school was pretty easy for him, he had never had many friends there anyway. Sure there were the few he could greet in the hallways, but none that had ever willingly stricken a genuine conversation with him, much less an interesting one. Though, that's not to say the experience of moving out of the blue in your senior year was something he was excited about either, that wouldn't be a nice time for anyone.

It was just his luck that he'd already made a fool out of himself on his very first day. In front of his crush to boot.

Y/N Ackerman.

He wouldn't lie to himself and proclaim that he has no feelings towards the girl. He quite literally puked on her because the amount of emotions she made him feel at a single glance proved to be overbearing to his body. Though, a portion of himself finds itself conflicted. Actually, scratch that - multiple portions of himself find themselves conflicted. As if the little people in his head are arguing against each other, and he isn't sure which side he should be on.

On one hand, the purple person that he decides to name Armeen is arguing that he should hate the girl. Mikasa said that Y/N had surely made it her goal to embarrass Eren in an attempt to solidify her superiority against him and that she was a vicious person with the ugliest soul she had ever seen. 

On another, the red person, Mika Mika, proclaimed that he already hates her. Armin and Mikasa have informed him of her vile friends, the people she willingly surrounds herself with. She condones their actions by mere association. Not to mention the absolute joke she had made of him, which was sure to have cost him a year's worth of ill-repute. Hell, probably even the rest of his soon to be miserable life.

But then, as if he had grown a sudden third hand, there appeared a pink person. This one unnamed, whispered details the other two would surely never approve of. How could she be a vicious person, when she had went out of her own way to not only invite him, but his only friends, to her highly anticipated game AND her own home, knowing that everyone in their grade had heard the abrupt invitation? She was willingly attempting to help him fix his image. How could the person those little people in his head describe as ruthless and callous, ever make his insides light on fire, as if he was a skewered rotisserie chicken on a white Sunday morning? How could the devil herself bring upon him feelings only talked about in movies?

Manipulation.

Gaslighting someone to their wits' end by batting her fluffy lashes. It's an old tactic really, but one that would never die out, nor could it. Eren isn't stupid, he knows the truth of the situation. How dire a messy set up like this could have affected her reputation as well, he gets it. Understands that measures need to be taken to prevail through such a trying time. When you're at the top, tiptoeing a razors edge, everyone at the bottom has a clear shot to shoot you down. Those mean comments and accusations of prejudice are just the paint strokes crafting a precise target onto her back.

But, to bring him and his friends into her little scheme?

To escape that threat, you need to move, and to move, you need stepping stones. Eren won't let himself or his friends be used as stepping stones.

That's exactly the reason why the three of them have developed a plan to knock her off of her prodigious throne. No longer will they allow the Queen Bee of Trost Academy to continue her reign of exploitation.

Instead, she will... shit her pants?

Well, that's the best they could come up with, so it'll have to do.

It was simple in nature really, Eren simply needed to buy her a drink, one that Mikasa claims has always been her favorite pick to drink before a game, though Eren still questions how she even had that information, and then he will offer that said drink to her as a peace offering.

A seemingly innocent gesture, except it's not. Mikasa was in charge of acquiring laxatives which they would infuse into the refreshment, which Y/N would drink and whatever happened next would be left up to fate. Though, Armin had elucidated three paths that which this plan could take.

Probability 1: She'd harbor a stomach ache, forcing her to be benched due to her poor performance, effectively eliminating the captain of Trost's varsity soccer team. Ruining her image, their chances of winning their vital game of the year, and her life.

Probability 2: She'd fart up a storm, or worse, ruining her image of the ideal senior of the year, their chances of winning their vital game of the year, and her life.

Probability 3: She'd pull an Eren and projectile vomit all over her teammates and opponents. Ruining her stellar image, their chances of winning their vital game of the year, and her life.

The third was preferred for their goal of seeking revenge, but they wouldn't complain if either of the other two played out perfectly.

"Finally, Eren! You took so long, we started to wonder if you had gotten lost on the way here." Armin says as the boy approaches their meeting spot.

"I did, three times. There is no need for this school to be so damn huge."

"Well, you're here now so..." Mikasa surreptitiously looks over her shoulder and then Eren's, "You got the goods?" She asks.

"Stop acting shifty Mikasa, you're making me nervy." Eren rebukes, eyes glancing from side to side in paranoia.

"Do you have it or not." She exasperatedly asks. He timidly ushers the plastic bag her way, his back moving to obstruct the exchange from any prying eyes. "Good boy, keep me covered and I'll crush these bad boys and then pour them in."

"Hurry 'Kasa, I don't wanna go to jail!" Armin's nerves get the best of him, and just as Mikasa began to pour the laxatives into the energy drink, his trembling palms latch onto her shoulders and begin to shake her back and forth. Unfortunately, the forcible motions cause her hand to slip and pour more than what was necessary for what they had planned. "Oops..." He breathes.

Eren's jaw drops at the amount, "Holy shit, are you- are you sure that's okay?" A dramatic gasp forcibly rasps his throat, "She's not actually gonna die, right?!"

"Uhm... no... I don't think so."

"What do you mean, you don't think so?!" He screeches.

"Ohmygosh,we'regoingtojailI'mnotbuiltforthatimgonnadie-"

"Armin, chill." Mikasa grits, before twisting the cap of the bottle and giving it a good shake. "She'll be fine, we're not going to jail. All that'll change is the addition of one more possibility, which is shitting her pants for real."

"I thought we were only joking about that? You mean she'll actually shart herself?" Eren asks.

"Yeah," Mikasa declares with no amount of remorse in her irises, simply tilting her head to face him head on, smirk standing proud on her lips. "Even better than we planned, right? Give the bitch the humiliation she deserves."

After a moment of maintaining arduous eye contact with the ravenette, Eren relents, throwing his head back to stare at the ceiling instead and interlocking both hands in his shaggy hair. "You're crazy. Like deadass, you belong in a mental hospital."

"Okay but, wait. The bottle is already open, no one who has a right mind would accept an already opened drink from someone she met yesterday." Armin points out, ever the observer.

"Well, she's gonna have to in order for this plan to work..." Mikasa mumbles, lips pursing in thought. "Oh, Eren! Why don't you be a doll and offer to open it for her, that way she wouldn't even notice it has already been open." She announces with a proud nod, clearly impressed with her solution.

Eren however, isn't as impressed. If anything, the pit in his stomach twists and turns even tighter, bringing forth creases onto the surface of his skin as his face lightly scrunches in disgust. Playing a direct hand in the demise of anyone's athletic career can be catastrophic to the psyche, though he doubts Mikasa's is being affected much if at all.

"Fine."

"Good boy-"

"Stop calling me that!"

"Anyway, we should get going now. Or else, we'd be late. The game starts in 20 minutes, and the walk there is about five, give or take. Though, the introductions take up a good 10 to 15." She ignores the boy.

"Plus, we still need to find seats. Hopefully we won't have to sit on the opposing team's side, or else we'd be royally fucked." Armin adds as they exit the school building.

The pathway that leads them directly towards the stadium is beautiful and cleanly. The school itself is exceptionally cared for, with vibrant green bushes that looked as if they were clipped with the utmost precision. Marbled vases for various other plants and polished benches littered across the lawn oozed a luxurious aura.

"Who are they playing against?" Eren asks.

"I think it's Stohess Prep." Armin answers.

"Oh, that means drama~" Mikasa adds, "10 bucks Levi chokes out Coach Nile?"

"Mm, nah. 20 bucks it's Ymir and Hitch." Armin replies, pointer finger prodding at the fat of his cheek in thought.

"Oh, I forgot about those two. 30 Y/N is forced to step in either way."

"40 bucks she joins."

"50 that they recreate that one Euphoria scene from season 2."

"60 someone yells plus ultra."

"70 bucks Y/N gets hit by a bus and dies."

"..."

"..."

"Okay, you need an exorcist." Armin quips.

"I've been wondering, why do you hate her so much? There's gotta be history you're not telling me." Eren asks the girl.

It was true, he can feel the animosity she seemingly reigns in 24/7 and he wonders if it was at all reciprocated. Though, he has the feeling that it's heavily one sided.

"Mikasa and Y/N-"

"Armin, shut it." The girl grits before her friend could have thought to utter the remainder of his statement.

Eren groans, "Armin, don't shut it. Open it. Open it wide."

"Don't word it like that, Eren..."

"I just don't see the point," Mikasa admits, though her face was telling to how difficult the situation seems to be for her, "What's in the past should be left there, why open up that can of worms?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but it's pretty damn obvious that those worms have been out for a while now. You don't think I've noticed how personal this seems to be for you?" Eren rebuts.

"Oh, and I'm not supposed to notice how personal this is for you? As in, more than just some revenge brought upon by petty high school humiliation?" She challenges, and her piercing gaze bore into Eren's own. "You've made your little crush pretty obvious, the addition of this information might change more than you think it would, Eren."

"Who I have a crush on is none of your business. Besides, yeah, I'll admit I'm not blind, I can tell Y/N is an attractive girl. You can't blame me for admitting so, but a silly little school crush is just a silly little school crush at the end of the day. I don't get how your past with her had anything to do with something as minuscule as that."

Mikasa's arms crossed before her chest in frustration, and she kept her head forward, not relenting at unsealing her lips. Though, Armin, being placed in the middle of both teens, hates being a quiet middleman.

"Y/N and Mikasa are cousins." He blurts.

Eren's jaw drops, "What?!" His fingers thread through his hair once again, this time gripping at the roots because what the actual fuck. "You're fucking with me, right?"

Armin shakes his head vehemently, "Deadass. They even have the same last name! You'd have never guessed, right?"

"Well, not really. Like, at all."

"Trust me, I wish it wasn't true either." Mikasa sighs.

Eren's arms flail before him defensively, "No! It's not that I wish it weren't true, it's just that it's hard to believe considering how you guys are like polar opposites. I mean she's so... y'know-" He awkwardly shrugs his shoulders, expecting the action to speak the words he couldn't find in himself to utter out loud. "And you're... y'know..."

Armin coughs, "Emo."

"I'm not emo! As a matter of fact, I'm not even a goth, contrary to popular belief. I'm just edgy, how hard is it to look up, people?!"

"...what's the difference?"

"Oh, shut up, Armin! That's why your balls haven't dropped!"

"You promised you wouldn't bring that up anymore!"

"Armin, your balls haven't dropped?"

"Oh, look! We're here!"

As Eren looked before them, he was met with the front of an impressive industrialized soccer stadium. The words 'Home of the Scouts' were engraved above the entrance in proud bold letters. He notices that they are currently standing in the middle of the massive parking lot, containing multiple first class busses bearing the titles 'Stohess Stallions'.

Guessing that those belong to the opposing team, and that team was no where to be found, Eren concludes that both teams must be inside already. Which begs the question, how late is this trio?

"You're in the way."

Eren nearly jumps out of his skin at the sudden stern voice, and the freight was not limited to himself. Armin squeaks and hides behind his two friends, using them as human shields, though Mikasa simply whips around with a nasty scowl at her face because, who would have the audacity?

Oh, that's who.

"Hitch." She grits.

Coming face to face with a group of girls clad in forest green shorts and jersey's, though their matching team jackets obscured the latter, was intimidating, to say the least. The one standing with the most pride, right at the front and center, wore a smug smirk on her face that her short and wavy dirty blonde hair framed beautifully.

"Well, well, well, would you look at who we have here." She drawls with a laugh. "This is such an interesting trio you guys have going on."

"Mikasa who is this, and why did she come up to us like an anime villain?" Eren whispers towards the ravenette.

"Just our luck." The girl mutters under her breath, not at all a just answer in Eren's eyes, but he was not about to voice his thoughts.

The stranger eyeballs Eren in a way that a certain Ackerman did just a few hours earlier in the day, though this time it did not have him weak in the knees, instead an eerie shiver ran down the length of his spine and caused him to gulp down a yelp.

"Come lookin' for a barf bag, new kid?" She decides to single him out directly, "You know, it's almost funny. I always have the same reaction you did when I see Ackerman as well! I don't blame you, hell, I'd even praise you if it wasn't so disgustingly embarrassing." She jests. "You are new aren't ya? Man, the balls you must have to pull that stunt on your very first day. Oh, the look on her face was enough to have me in tears, I've got to tell you."

"It wasn't on purpose." He mumbles with an eye roll.

"Oh, be careful Hitch. You'll make him mad and we just had our jerseys dry cleaned." Comes a voice from beside her, one of her teammates presumably. This draws out many more chuckles from the group of girls, causing Eren's cheeks to heat up from the jab at his poor stomach.

That voice, low but smooth, causes both Armin and Mikasa to stiffen, as if they had recognized it.

"No way..." Armin mutters, his eyes widening in surprise as the owner of the voice made herself visible.

Another blonde, though this one a paler tone, with glacial blue eyes and a sloped nose emerged from the group, a large bag slung over her shoulders and purple cleats hanging from her fingers.

She had an aura about her, one familiar to Eren. One that wrapped itself around every throat and forced the people around her to pay her heed.

"You're right, Annie. Coach would bench us if we happened to sully them and he can't afford to bench his star players." Hitch agrees, though her eyes are not on her apparent teammate. Instead, they seemed to be inspecting Armin and Mikasa's faces, clearly amused by their starstruck expressions.

"Kasa, do something..." Armin whispers.

"What do you want me to do, hex her?"

"Mikasa, long time no see." Annie continues. It seems that the two know each other, perhaps they are old friends? What a heartwarming reunion. "How's it feel living in your cousins shadow?"

Or, perhaps not.

Mikasa's eyes darken and she begins to fumble in her bag for a pair of scissors, "I quite like the shadows, it gives me a place to properly plan your downfall. Maybe even your murder."

Hitch gasps and feigns a frightened expression, "Oh shiver me timbers, small emos are so scary."

"I'll show you scary cunt-"

"Hey hey hey! What's going on here?" Connie unexpectedly appears from behind the trio, his arms making their way around their shoulders. "You guys will be late if you keep loitering around."

"You could never be Bokuto." One of the girls murmur.

"Oh, Connie, I'm so glad you're here. Bend down a little will you? I feel like I have something stuck in my teeth." Hitch jests as she rubs a finger across her pearly whites.

"Aha, funny." Connie grits, "Hey, how's Marlowe by the way? I imagine he's better since he left you for, who was it again?" He asks with a false pensive look.

"Her mom." Armin declares with a proud grin.

The girl clenches her jaw and scowls, "Fuck you, Connie. Isn't yours chilling upside down on a roof?"

"Wrong AU, hitch."

"At least my hair doesn't make me look like I call corporate." Connie retorts.

"Yeah, well at least-"

"Hitch, we don't have time for this." Annie interrupts, holding her wrist out and allowing her teammate to glance at her watch... is that a Rolex? "We still need to warmup."

Eren doesn't think he has ever seen Connie's eyes darken as much as they did then, shooting daggers at the blonde on par with the ones Mikasa fires at her cousin. "You finally decide to talk, Annie?" He calls the girl out.

Without even sparing him a glance, she states a monotone, "I have nothing to say to you." And walks away from the group in pursuit for the entrance.

Following her departure, Hitch scowls at the fact that she too should follow. "Whatever, I'll save my energy for your little friends on the field. You better watch your captain, it'd be a shame if she forgets her place and mysteriously finds herself on her knees where she belongs."

"Don't dish out what you can't take." Connie asserts.

The girl simply rolls her eyes, "Let's go." She says and takes her leave, taking her army of followers along with her.

"Saweetie did it better!" Armin yells after her, to which Mikasa agrees and waves her hand daintily at the group.

"Man, you are having the worst of luck today, aren't you, Eren?" Connie says with a guffaw.

Eren groans and holds his head in his hands. "Trust me, I know."

"I'm surprised you held your own, Connie. Considering that was literally Annie... and she's with Stohess." Mikasa says.

The boy sighs, "Yeah, I know. Fortunately, Reiner found out yesterday, so we weren't as blind sided. Though, we still haven't told the team, and that's been a topic of discourse amongst a couple of our friends." He answers, and the pained expression on his face almost forces Eren to feel sorry for him.

Almost.

Shaking his head lightly to disperse his frown, he instead returns his attention towards the brunet once again. "Anyway, don't worry about Hitch. She's always like that. It's petty school rivalry shit that we used to have with Marley till they shut that school down. Now Stohess thinks they need to step up and claim the spot as our rivals." He explains, though Eren laughs at the ridiculousness of his joke.

They're in high school, clearly it wouldn't actually be that serious, right?

Why is Eren the only one laughing?

"No literally, look." Connie says and juts a finger towards the busses they had spotted earlier. Eren hadn't spotted it before, but right under the school name seemed to be the words, 'Trost Academy rivals! Fuck Marley and Fuck Trost!'

"Oh..." Eren utters breathily, "We're too old for this shit."

"Anyway, we should really get going or else we won't find good seats." Armin ushers his friends with his hands.

"Oh!" Connie exclaims with a newfound grin, one that Eren thinks fits him better than his previous frown. "Don't worry about your seats, you can come chill with us. We've already saved some for you guys."

Armin gasps dramatically and his eyes nearly bulge out of his skull. "Y-you mean, your VIP section? We get to sit in VIP?!" He screeches. Even Mikasa seems taken aback, her jaw slack and her brows hiding behind her bangs, though she didn't dare voice it.

"Yup! Though I had no idea it was called that, Sasha is gonna freak when I tell her!" The teen buzzes with anticipation. "I'll lead the way, come on."

As they begin to follow him, Eren leans into Armin's ear to ask, "Why are they called the VIP seats?"

Armin sputters, "Why else, Eren? They're the best seats in the stadium. The plastics are the only ones to ever use the space, but today we're making history."

"We haven't even told you about the rest of their clique." Mikasa adds.

"The rest? There're more than the eight we've talked about?"

"Oh Eren... there are levels to this shit, okay? Not to mention, lore." Armin says whilst his fingers wiggle before Eren's face to build suspense.

"For instance, remember Annie from earlier? The blondie with blue eyes and a tongue as sharp as a dagger?" Mikasa asks.

"Yeah?"

"Well, she might not act like it, but she's a retired plastic."

"What? You mean she attended Trost at one point? Also, you can retire? Why would she retire?"

"She didn't just attend Trost, she was a founding member of the plastics. A true OG. She helped run our halls. In fact, I'd go as far to say that she was once closer to Y/N than Jean has ever been." Armin said.

"Then, what would make her willingly give that up?"

"Something so simple and obvious, yet achingly torturous that you wouldn't help but sympathize with her. Especially someone like you, wearing your heart on your sleeve like that." Mikasa lightly jabs at her friend.

"Just tell me, 'kasa. I'm not as soft hearted as you think I am." Eren grumbles.

"Unrequited love."

Eren's breath catches in his throat at her words, for he couldn't believe what she was implying. "W-what? You're telling me..."

"Yup," Armin decides to finish his sentence, "We're not sure which way it went or how exactly it went down, but...

One of those girls loved the other far deeper than just mere friendship."

Taglist: @idreamitski @str4wberrylover @jesus-son-of-god @hoejosblindfold @caycaysblogg @simpingmyassoff @youatemylollipop @enouche @longestline [comment to be added, dm to be removed!]

A/N: im sorry this took so long, its shorter than the last but twice as long as my first draft 😟

[hysteria-things]

I need a 3rd part with Nate soooo bad

SINFUL DESIRES (part three)

read part one here

read part two here

read part four here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: nate x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’re going on a date this weekend! oh, and the date is your arch nemesis… so you say.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FLUFF, swearing, friendly banter

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 704

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: second anon i kid you not i wrote this in the afternoon and had it in my drafts to post later and when i saw that in my inbox i was gobsmacked LMAO

ANYWAY thank you sm and here is the awaited part three💕

the mirror placed on the wall next to your front door has your reflection on it as you fix up your hair and lipgloss.

you still cannot fathom that you’re going on a date with nathan doe.

well, he didn’t want to admit that it was a date. he said — and quote — “we should go get something to eat this weekend. dress fancy, too!”

the ringing of the doorbell echoes through the foyer, and you give one last peek at yourself before opening the door.

nate’s dressed in a white dress shirt, black dress pants, and shoes. he has a small bouquet of tulips in his hand, your favorite flowers ever since you were little.

he remembered.

his eyes scan your body that’s hugged with a sage green dress that has some poof to it, daisies embroidered on it. the sleeves are off the shoulders, and gold jewelry decorates your ears and neck. “well, well, well. look who came to their enemy’s doorstep holding presents. how thoughtful.”

“oh, shut up. i’m here to pick you up for our date.”

his hand never left your thigh as he drove to the restaurant, and you hate to admit that the feeling made you blush.

he opens the door for you, and you step out to admire the exterior. the lights around it are dim and the colors of the building are warm earthy colors. it’s definitely an italian restaurant. also your favorite ever since you were a kid.

he remembered that, too.

the hostess brings you guys to the table, and you get settled as the both of you look through the menus.

“you look very beautiful tonight,” he says, peeking at you from above the menu since they're bigger than your heads.

you hide your smile with a lip bite. “thank you. you look handsome.”

he chuckles, tapping your foot from under the table. the waiter comes over, places your orders, and takes the menus.

nate leans on the table to admire you, smiling as you start talking. “do you know what we should do after this?”

“what should we do, pretty?”

man. that nickname’s starting to grow on you.

you grin. “we should go to barnes and noble. i need more books.”

“you don’t need more books.” he rolls his eyes. “nerd alert.”

he lets out a sound of pain when you kick him under the table. “nate, please? for me?” you give him puppy dog eyes along with a fake pout.

he crosses his arms. “we’re not going to fucking barnes and noble.”

you went to barnes and noble. you drag nate behind you by the pinky, smiling when the whiff of books hits you.

you go over to the young adult section, skimming through them to find a book that’ll interest you.

he’s leaning against the bookshelf, staring in awe. he doesn’t understand how one can love books so much, but it’s okay because it’s you.

when you find a book you like, you go over to the counter. “hello!” you greet, placing the object on the counter.

the cashier scans it, tapping a few buttons on the screen in front of her. “that’ll be $21.00.”

you go to reach for your card, but hear a BEEP and look up, seeing nate’s card inserted into the machine. “you already paid for dinner.” you say lowly.

he nudges you with his arm, taking out his card. “do you have a pen by chance?” he asks the woman, using his hand to portray a writing motion.

she gives one to him, and he moves you so you’re behind him. he starts to write something in your book, and you jump to try to look over his shoulder. it’s no use.

“na—”

“thank you.” he smiles, giving the pen back and grabbing your book. “let’s go.”

when you guys get comfortable in the car, you sigh. “what’d you write in it?”

he stares deep into your eyes, taking the book off of his lap and handing it to you without saying another word.

you hesitantly open it, and a small message written in blue pen is revealed on the inside cover.

y/n,

will you officially be my girlfriend?

circle one:

yes or yes

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @idkhowtosleep @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts

[perseephoneee]

caroling [ficmas 2024] [elijah mikaelson x f!reader]

↳ masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ ficmas 2024

@wholoveseggs : Hiii darling!! I have a request for ficmas!! Elijah Mikaelson (duh!) with either caroling (hilarious) or hot cocoa ☕💕

warnings: caroling

author's note: lissa my beloved i hope i did elijah justice <3 this fic took me like four buffy episodes and die hard to write :p

playlist:

christmas (baby please come home) -- darlene love

that's christmas to me -- pentatonix

snow song -- adrianne lanker

The holidays were one of your favorite times of the year, full of community and lightness in times of darkness. Even with Mystic Falls becoming a frozen wasteland, you enjoyed going downtown and seeing all the decorations and bright lights adorning the streets. 

Your job as a librarian was also enriched by the season. Although Mystic Falls library was small and not often used, you did your best with the other staff to create a welcoming environment. This included hosting a book drive, lots of community craft events, and caroling. 

You loved to sing since you were tiny but hated caroling season in Mystic Falls. It was a community-wide thing, and it was also a competition to raise money for the Mystic Falls Foodbank. Except that Nancy Springborg won every single year. And loved to rub it in your face. 

The caroling groups involved many of the students in the various elementary and middle schools, especially the foster kids, who usually didn't receive much during the holiday season. All the kids were assigned to the different caroling hosts, and somehow, even with the random assignments, Nancy managed to have the best-sounding group with the best choreography to win the stupid competition. 

Not that you were bitter. 

"If you hate caroling so much, why do you continue to sign up?" Arielle, your co-worker, asked you as she cut more snowflake decorations. You both were assistant librarians hoping to work your way up the ladder. Currently, that meant doing the menial work of holiday decorations. The backroom was too small to work in, so you were both at the front desk.

"I don't hate caroling; I hate the caroling competition. It's stupid and doesn't achieve anything," you scoffed, aggressively snipping the paper. 

"Except money for the food bank."

"Don't argue semantics with me."

"It's supposed to be fun, and the kids look forward to it," Arielle grinned, pushing her glasses up her nose. You ripped your snowflake out of anger and let out a noise of frustration.

"It'd be fun if Nancy lost. She's such a bitch."

"Who's a bitch?"

You looked up to see Elijah Mikaelson, fingers tapping the counter as he looked at you with a half smile. You had never heard him say a swear word before, and it took your brain a few seconds to compute.

"Nancy Springborg. Y/N's arch nemesis," Arielle responded for you, finishing her snowflake. She sent you a knowing glance as you opened and closed your mouth like a fish. 

"Archnemesis? My, I didn't take you for the vengeful sort," Elijah tutted. 

"That would require you to know more about me," you replied, rolling your chair over to the counter. "Can I get something for you today, Mr. Mikaelson?"

"Elijah. And yes, I have a few archival books on loan that I'd like to pick up."

Elijah had been dutifully working on recording the town's history. He had managed to add a lot more information than was previously recorded. It was almost like he had lived through it.

"I can grab them. Be right back," Arielle nodded, leaving you alone with Elijah. In addition to recording Mystic Fall's history, he had also been coming in at least once a week and had become a subject of infatuation. Arielle wished you would just ask him out, but that would require bravery, which you were sorely lacking. So, instead, you pined from afar and whined when you had one too many to drink. 

"What makes this Nancy Springborg your archnemesis?" Elijah asked.

"She always wins the godsdamn caroling competition and has to be an asshole about it. I always get second," you frowned, twiddling your fingers. "I know it's for the kids…but I really just hate her smug expression."

Elijah chuckled. "I know people like that."

"How do you handle it?" you questioned.

"You, my dear, are too kind for how I deal with it."

You furrowed your brows in curiosity, but Arielle came back right at that second with two heavy tomes that left a satisfying smack on the counter. You scanned the books out to his library card, watching him not even stress a muscle as he put both under his arm. 

"Have a lovely day, Y/N. Arielle," Elijah nodded, heading out the door as your gaze followed him wistfully. You could almost hear Arielle shaking her head from behind you. You swiveled in your chair. 

"Laugh it up, fuzzball," you chimed, returning to your snowflakes as Arielle laughed.

The assignments for the caroling groups came out after your shift. You were already at home, the sky dark at five p.m. It was a frozen dinner night, and you were nursing a cup of green tea while you looked at who you got this year and went through your emails. You had a few new kids and a couple you've had before. One of them, Olive, was a girl you got every year. Her Mom was a widow who worked night shifts and often couldn't do much for Christmas. Still, her Mom gave you cookies every Christmas as a thank you. 

You were debating putting on a holiday movie when your doorbell rang. You weren't expecting any guests but went to check anyway. Surprise crossed your face as you saw Elijah outside. You opened your door. 

"How do you know where I live?" you inquired, leaning against the door frame.

"Arielle told me," Elijah smiled. "May I come in?"

"Uh, yeah. Come in," you said, moving out of the way. He entered, taking a glance

around your apartment. It wasn't very organized; you had books spilling everywhere. But it was clean; you weren't unhygienic. You shrugged.

"I have a librarian's salary, can't afford much."

"I think it's lovely," Elijah nodded, looking appreciatively at all the titles on your shelf. You shifted awkwardly. 

"What can I do for you, Mr. M– Elijah," you caught yourself, crossing your arms. 

"I used to sing when I was a young boy," he spoke, turning towards you. "My Mother would bring me to all the different houses with my siblings. As I got older, I stopped singing and got into playing piano. I still enjoy a choral piece or two." You maneuvered your way to the kitchen, pouring Elijah a cup of tea. He nodded appreciatively. "I was hoping I could help you with the caroling competition."

"I'm sure you have better things to do than participate in a caroling contest," you rolled your eyes, leaning against the kitchen counter. 

"Anything one desires is worth doing," Elijah sipped his tea, nodding appreciatively. "Rose?"

"Cherry blossom. Got it for springtime, but I am still working through it."

"It's good," Elijah put his cup down. "So, caroling?"

"I hope you're not expecting some fancy choir. It's me and a bunch of children."

"Then I'll be in good company."

Was Elijah flirting with you? Maybe not by traditional standards, but he sounded interested. You weren't used to anything like this and didn't want to look too hard into it. 

"It's a week of rehearsals for one night of caroling; we start Monday," you raised your brow, almost in a challenge. Elijah grinned.

"I look forward to it." His gaze caught on the television. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything."

"I was going to put on a movie, that's all." You shifted your weight as you debated your question. "Do you want to stay? I got delicious frozen food."

"It would be my honor," Elijah replied, removing his jacket and hanging it near your front door. He was dressed in the same suit from earlier, and you realized you had never seen him in anything other than the finest. In comparison, you were in loose lounge pants and a T-shirt. "What are we watching?"

"The best Christmas movie ever– Die Hard," you grinned, going to your pantry to find your popcorn.

"Is Die Hard a Christmas movie?" Elijah questioned, causing you to stop in your tracks. 

"Don't ask stupid questions," you tutted. "Let me introduce you to the wonder of John McClane saving Christmas."

Elijah ended up enjoying the movie, although he had many questions throughout. You had to pause several times to tell him to trust the process. He also participated in your frozen dinner buffet, which was entertaining since he dressed like he was going to a Michelin-star restaurant. He ended up leaving hours later. When you closed the door, it took you about thirty seconds before you descended into a giggling mess and called Arielle. 

Monday couldn't come fast enough. Rehearsals were scheduled for after school at the library, and you had already set out snacks and refreshments when Elijah showed up. He was still dressed to impress. You spun around with a snack tray in your hands. 

"Cheese cube, Mr. Mikaelson?"

"You really know how to impress a man," Elijah chuckled, picking up one of the cheeses. Somehow, he made eating cheese seductive. You turned away, swallowing. "Am I too early?"

"Not at all; children are just too late." Even as you said it, though, your usual favorite, Olive, showed up. She bounded through the door, her braided pigtails bouncing behind her. 

"Hi, Miss!" she squealed, going to give you a hug, which you returned greedily. 

"Hey girlie, how's sixth grade treating you?"

"It's really cool because I get a locker now, and I have more than one teacher, and I like my classes," Olive rambled, dropping her backpack onto the floor. You raised a brow, and she picked it up and put it to the side. 

"I'm glad school is going well."

"Yeah, but I'm still excited to go home. Although this time, I'm excited to sing."

"It's not caroling without you, Ollie," you grinned. Olive finally noticed Elijah and peered at him expectedly. 

"Who's this?"

"This is Mr. Mikaelson. He's going to help us out this year so we can beat Nancy."

"Oh good! I want her to perish. That's a new word I learned in class. Perish."

You rolled your eyes. Elijah crouched down to her height, narrowing his eyes.

"That's quite a big word for a small girl like yourself."

"I'm a big girl," Olive huffed, crossing her arms. Elijah acted disinterested, hiding his smile. "Miss! Tell Mr. Mikaelson I'm a big girl."

"That's a battle you'll have to fight yourself," you grinned as Olive returned to chastising Elijah. The other kids soon showed up: Graham, Norman, Sarah, Maddy, and James, and you guys got to work practicing your song. You decided to do "That's Christmas To Me" this year, as it was a completely choral piece with many parts for each kid. Nancy always chose a piece she could do a solo in, and somehow, she still won. Completely defeating the spirit of Christmas. Your practice ended well, and Elijah ended up walking you home since it was dark already. 

"Thanks for helping out," you shrugged, looking over at him. 

"My pleasure," he smiled. "You have a lovely voice."

"Eh, it's fine. I stay on key."

"I would love to hear you sing more without many youngsters overlapping."

"'Youngsters?' What are you, 80?"

You both laughed over that. You arrived at your door before he could respond. You stood there awkwardly, looking at your boots. 

"Perhaps you can entertain me one of these evenings with a solo performance?" Elijah postured, stepping closer to you. There was a doormat worth of distance between you and him. You had trouble meeting his eyes. 

"Perhaps," you gulped. "Good night, Elijah."

"Good night, Y/N," Elijah nodded, stepping away and leaving you to your home. 

The rest of the rehearsals went virtually the same. 

Many of the kids liked Elijah, although Olive still found enjoyment in teasing him. You guys sounded a lot tighter than your groups usually did, and by the time the caroling day came along, you felt semi-confident. 

No group took the same route; otherwise, citizens would be exhausted from hearing music all night. Instead, every group met at city hall and got an assigned route, and a judge accompanied them. Part of you thought that maybe Nancy was sleeping with the judges, and that's how she won. Except that the judges were all elderly women and a gay man, so unless they were attracted to the Devil, it was likely not the case. 

You were waiting inside the foyer of city hall, nursing a cup of hot tea from the refreshment table, when the Devil approached. 

"Y/N, don't you look, darling," Nancy crooned, coming to stand in front of you. Her blonde hair was perfectly curled, and she wore a sweater dress with an expensive-looking brooch. You narrowed your eyes. 

"Hi, Nancy," you groaned, forcing on a smile. 

"I think it's cute how you do this every year," Nancy smiled, touching your arm lightly. She glanced around, finding something more interesting. "Good luck."

"You too," you grimaced, sticking your tongue out as she turned away. Elijah decided at that moment to show up and hid his grin at your behavior. 

"She seems pleasant," Elijah chimed, hands in his trouser pockets. You were still scowling. 

"If you like people with sticks up their ass, sure," you added, downing your tea in one gulp and throwing the cup out. Elijah bit his lip to hide his laughter. You pretended not to notice. "Are the kids here yet?"

"They're around the corner getting hot chocolate."

"That's good…good," you trailed off, staring after where Nancy walked off. Elijah came to stand in front of you. 

"Worry does not serve you, my dear," Elijah murmured. "Tonight will be great, and it is because of you and your resilience." His eyes were molten pools of understanding, and you felt that if you stared into them, it might give you the answers to all of your questions in life. It was the first time you truly looked in his eyes, as most of the time, you were too afraid to. 

"Okay," you mumbled. You gave yourself a shake, blowing out your lips. "We got this. Let's rally the troops."

It took you about two houses to get your rhythm and for the kids to remember the pitch. You're pretty sure some of the moms tipped you more because of Elijah charming them, but you weren't going to complain. Still, you were a hundred shy of your goal by the end of your route, and you saw Nancy's group parading down the street, already overflowing with cash. 

"This is bullshit," Olive swore, glaring at Nancy's group.

"Language," both you and Elijah said at the same time. 

"Why do they have matching outfits?" Graham asked, speaking loudly with his ear muffs. 

"Because Ms. Springborg has too much time on her hands," Elijah sighed. Sarah and Maddy both giggled, elbowing each other. You were pretty sure they thought Elijah was cute, and you couldn't disagree. James, a quiet boy with glasses, tugged on Elijah's sleeve. 

"A-Are we going to do the thing?" he murmured, voice small. Your brows furrowed. 

"What thing?" you inquired as the other kids piped up. Elijah shushed them and turned to you. 

"We had an idea if you would consider it," Elijah postured.

"When did you guys come up with an idea?"

"When you weren't around," Elijah smirked. "We practiced another song; what if we tried it at the last house?"

"B-But I don't know the song."

"Yes, you do; I've heard you sing it when you work," Elijah whispered the song to you, and even as nerves gripped your stomach, you agreed to do it. The kids looked excited enough to convince you it was the right thing to do. 

You went up to the last house, palms sweaty, as Elijah climbed the steps to knock on the door. It appeared to be a Christmas party, which meant a lot more people than you wanted to perform in front of. A middle-aged woman answered the door.

"Good evening, ma'am. What a lovely home you have," Elijah smiled. "We hope you will give us the pleasure of listening to our song this evening." He tacked on some more compliments for good measure, and you could already see the woman swooning. Elijah came back down a moment later, nodding that it was time to start. You sucked in a breath. Elijah counted down for the kids as they started singing. 

"Christmas,"

"The snow's coming down," you sang. Your voice was shaky but loud enough to carry on. Elijah and the kids kept up the backing vocals as you sang the lead. "I'm watching it fall; lots of people around; baby, please come home."

The rest of the party guests came out on the porch, and a couple of other houses also came to see. Your hands were shaking, and all you wanted to do was shove them into your pockets. Olive came up to your left, grabbing your hand in support. Elijah came to your right to take your other hand until all of you were in one happy, hand-holding circle. 

"They're singing 'Deck the Halls.'

But it's not like Christmas at all

'Cause I remember when you were here

And all the fun we had last year,"

As you sang, you couldn't keep your eyes off Elijah for more than a few seconds. He couldn't keep his eyes off you, either. 

The song finished before you realized, and your group enveloped you in a hug as applause broke out from the houses. You saw Nancy down the street, scowling at you as everyone pitched in their money for your performance. Just as the kids let you go, you also turned around to hug Elijah. Some part of your brain thought it was also totally normal to kiss him. You pulled away almost immediately, cheeks burning. 

"Did we win? Did we win?" Olive chirped, grabbing your sleeve and distracting you. You laughed, completely forgetting about the competition the second you started singing. 

"Who cares? I'm just happy I got to see Nancy look that unhappy," you shrugged, waving to Nancy as she stormed away in a huff.

"I'm happy I finally got to hear you sing," Elijah whispered to you. You jumped, spinning around to face him. "The kiss was an added bonus."

"I-I didn't mean to, I'm sorry–"

Elijah kissed you, cutting you off. His hands wrapped around your waist, his lips a firm reminder of everything you loved about the holiday season. His arms stayed around you even as he pulled away. "I should've done that sooner."

"Yeah, we were all waiting," Olive said, rolling her eyes. "Norman bet me a Hershey bar on it."

"Did not!" Norman retorted, and he and Olive broke down into semantics. Elijah pulled you back to him, eyes crinkled in amusement from the two kids. 

"Hi," you whispered. 

"Hello," Elijah brushed your hair away from your face. "Can I kiss you again?"

You nodded, letting him pull you back in, feeling like you won the caroling competition already.