#getting matching couples things but gaslighting you into thinking it was your idea

[zushimart]

Insecure jealous scara keeps on infecting my brain -🐛

before-healing scara is actually a nightmare of a partner because of his trust issues and, by extension, his intense jealousy. and not the cute kind, but like.. genuinely atrocious behavior like silent treatment, phone checking, cheating accusations, etc. like oh my god. horrific. healing scara is able to identify those unhealthy thought patterns, be like “woah, i’m fucking crazy,” and move on without making it your problem. but now his jealousy is more external to the relationship than internal and therefore very cutesy. like, if someone gets a little too flirty with you at a party, giving u heart eyes and shit.. he’ll pull you off to the side and make you give him your jacket and keep your arm around him the rest of the night. his beef with random girls and guys is insane, not because he doesn’t trust you, but because he doesn’t trust THEM. he’d make those stupid tweets and tiktoks that are like “having a pretty partner is so fucking hard everyone wants them” as if he isn’t crafted by a god himself lol. when he starts feeling a bit icky (worried you’ll wake up and realize you want someone better, etc.), he’ll suck it up and go straight to you for old fashioned reassurance in the form of proper emotional vulnerability. trading “i love you”’s till his body is body’s warm and fuzzy like he’s drunk.. letting you list off every reason you love him, whispering by his ear with your arms wrapped around his waist as he turns pinker and pinker and pinker.. flicking your forehead and keeping his face down because he’s too embarrassed to look you in the eye. nothing tooo worry about silly scara

[erwinsvow]

you and john progress quickly in your relationship.

warnings: basically john is controlling and wants a housewife whether you want to be one or not, possessive/toxic behavior, elements of gaslighting, age gap, mentions of sex

john price leans too heavily on the crazy side of possessive—and at the same time, he likes to see you perfectly taken care of, but by no one if not him. you think stupidly that you'd be a fool not to be interested—a handsome, older man similar to the ones you and your friends are always fantasizing about after complaining about boys your age. he checks off every box, a bit too well, actually.

he communicates, openly and often, not just single word texts but rather long phone calls and drop-ins at the small florist shop where you work. plans are always made in person—you think he's just old-fashioned but there's something about seeing your eyes light up when he lays out the order of the date night he's put together for the two of you. it's sweet—like no one has ever put this much thought into something for you. it's always dinner at some place that would probably cost half your rent, a sweet treat after since you're so fond of it but you feel greedy ordering dessert at the restaurant, dancing or a walk or browsing through a bookstore together or something else that's not just going back home. it's so well thought out, so attuned to your taste. you almost forget you've just met john a couple of weeks ago, that he was just a cute customer buying flowers from you a few dates ago.

your friends spur him on—you can't tell if it's something akin to jealousy or not. the very idea makes your face burn—you've never been someone that others are jealous of, but maybe now you are, and that's all because of john. and he doesn't let up—keeps it going wonderfully, still planning dates and picking you up and bringing you some small yet expensive jewelry after the first month claiming that it reminded him of you. you don't think it's something that he would just stumble across at a store but you accept it anyways, start wearing the ring on your right hand. you think you should feel alarmed when he presents matching earrings a little bit later, but you don't. you start wearing them daily, let your friends catch a glimpse when you move your hair behind your ear.

you've become perfectly pliant to john price and his antics, eager for his validation, eager to see him again. the way he talks about things makes you think he knows everything there is to know in the world, so you believe him wholeheartedly. like when your landlord says the complex is being bought out. your little one bed, one bath is perfect for you but you certainly don't want to buy an apartment right now. but it's okay—because john is there to help. he answers the phone when you're sobbing into the receiver, comes over and comforts you. he shushes you when you blubber about moving and work and finding a new place and murmurs against your ear, moving your hair aside to look at the earrings he'd gotten you.

"sweet girl, why're you cryin', hm? you'll just come live with me until s'all sorted, alright?"

and, well, john knows best, so you listen. a few short weeks later, you're moved into his place, which is so much nicer than your own. your books and photo frames and knick-knacks blend in perfectly with his belongings. it's a little further from work, but how can you give up waking up next to john each day and curling up next to him, severely fucked out, each night?

the commute is getting annoying—you grumble about it one night over the dinner table. john meets your eyes and runs a hand over his beard and says—

"why don't you just quit, love?"

and you don't really have an answer. you love the shop, love getting paid to be around flowers all day. but is it really worth dragging yourself back and forth across the city every day, especially when you don't even pay rent anymore? you tried, insisted, even, but john says something about how he's not your landlord and you're not his tenant, saying something else about how the missus doesn't pay rent, and you're left with a burning face wondering how many other times he's referred to you as that. it's not like you need the money, you don't think you've paid for anything other than coffee and bagels since you moved in.

you tell him you'll think about it, but then the decision is made for you. the little old lady who owns the store says she needs to downsize, and well, she had to make a tough choice. it's fine—you're hardly upset. your coworkers both have young kids, are both there every day of the week, they definitely need it more than you. so for the first time in a while, you head home early, picking up some stuff for dinner and finding it way too easy to swipe john's credit card to pay for it. you get dinner ready and then get yourself ready, waiting for john to come home to tell him about what happened, hoping he's not too upset that you're pretty much a leech now.

you and john end up tangled in the sheets a little later—you hum while he rubs your back and you think briefly that you'll have to wash these sheets tomorrow since you two have made a mess. his touch is hot, he's like a furnace, but you can't pull away, clutching to his warmth and gripping his arm with your hand. the only time he even looks concerned, or maybe upset? angry? is when you mention that you can start looking for a new place to work nearby home. he says something you only half-hear in your sleepy state, something about 'don't worry your head, love. i can take care of my girl.'

and well, who are you to argue with that?

(when you wake up, the ring he'd gotten you what seems like forever ago, is on your left hand now. on your left ring finger. but that's crazy, you swear you always put it on your right hand. it fits nicely enough there, so you leave it.)

[vixezn]

Hello!! Okay so I saw your ur Yan! Wally x Medic! Reader and I AINT EVEN GONNA LIE I REALLY AND I MEAN REALLY LIKED IT🫶

AND I was also a bit curious if you’d be comfortable doing Wally x Classic Lolita! Reader? (Romantic!) (Also if you decided to make him a Yandere tbh I don’t mind!)

Anyway, you have a wonderful day, lovely afternoon, awesome night, and a SPECTACULAR MONTH🫶

(Btw make sure you’re taking care of yourself and staying hydrated with water!!)

HIIII ANON, I love this idea (when I saw this, I jumped right on it!), this slowly gets more dark as you read, FYI!! (btw, YOU have a great month TOO 🫶)

🎀 - Wally loves the fact that you have a fine taste in clothing styles!

🎀 - He loves talking to you for hours upon hours, all about different ideas of what outfits you could wear next! 

🎀 - (Of course, the ideas he loves the most are the ones related to his styles but don’t tell him I said that!)

🎀 - Whenever you show up in a different outfit, whether it’s an adorable purple dress, separating at the front, showcasing the layers of lacy white cloth underneath it, or a soft green suit with baggy sleeves and pants that encloses at the ends in white, he loves it!

🎀 - He just has to paint you constantly, you just keep switching outfits! And he doesn’t mind it, just a new addition to his endless collection!

🎀 - He loves watching you from afar, looking at all the details in your outfit! Of course, if you even notice, he’ll just gaslight you into thinking that you were just imagining things! Cant have his love main subject of painting go running off, now can he?

🎀 - Whenever you and him talk about your outfits, he wishes that you would think of an outfit or two for him! And you could match with him! Oh how adorable you both would be, looking like a couple! A special couple, all his, only his.

🎀 - And if you do surprise him with an outfit of his own, he would be totally in love with it! Oh, all the colors that fit just right to his theme! He just has to wear it when he goes on picnics with you!

🎀 - As time goes on, his painting collection has gone too big to fit inside his cupboard. He has to make a room for it all! That way, he could see all your beauty! All lined up in endless rows and columns!

🎀 - Sooner or later, he feels just right at home to paint there, too! He just gets a spurge of information when he paints in his room, it’s just so special!

🎀 - Of course, he wouldn’t let anyone into the room, not even you! The love of his life His best friend! 

🎀 - His excuse if you ever find out? Your outfits are simply too beautiful to not be painted! Of course, the main reason is because it’s just.. you, his darling.

🎀 - If you accept the excuse, great! You can pose for him when he does paint you, And his collection would grow greatly! More amazing outfits, more amazing paintings!

🎀 - But if you were creeped out and didn’t.. well.. that would be a problem. But all problems have solutions, don’t they?

[olderthannetfic]

so it’s better to just propose scenarios that are romantic or sexual rather than say explicitly “I’d really like Alice and Bob as a couple!” My friend said to add something like “but obviously I’m fine with whatever!” at the end but that sounds like it might be the “gen out” you mentioned? (I don’t think it’s an issue for the one particular fandom I’m requesting where I want shippy stuff, but still want to make sure I get the phrasing right)

I think clarity is always good. It's totally fair game to explicitly say that you do/don't ship the characters you requested.

Getting the phrasing right is impossible. At its peak, yuletide had like two thousand participants: They're never going to all agree on the correct way to do things.

(Among other things, some writers like a very minimal set of details that just say whether you ship the characters and a tiny bit about what fic genres you like. Other writers like me strongly prefer multiple detailed prompts.)

But yes, I would leave out weasel words like "Obviously, I'm fine with whatever."

Are you fine with Alice turning into a velociraptor and graphically disemboweling Bob, then eating his innards?

Are you fine with fic about Bob gaslighting Alice until she commits suicide and getting away with it?

Alice and Bob finding Jesus and pumping out 12 babies while lecturing about fundie values?

Lolrandom "I wrote this on a sugar high" fic from 2002?

Squashy rotting corpse necrophilia fic?

No one is actually fine with every type of fic. It's as dumb as people on kink sites saying they'll do "anything".

To my eye, those kinds of statements just add meaningless padding to your letter. They're wishy-washy and infantilizing of your writer, in my opinion. The way to not sound like a demanding dick is... to not sound like a demanding dick.

Upbeat letters listing off a bunch of things you're excited about make it sound like you're okay with multiple options (even if they're all shippy ones) and like you have a good attitude. That's more reassuring than going "I pinky swear I won't be mad if you don't write what I want".

The "out" I've seen people use that does read as more genuine to me is something like:

"If you have a cool plot idea that isn't like the above, I'd rather you ran with that than tried to match my letter exactly"

or

"These prompts should give a general sense of what I like, but don't feel like you have to stick to their specifics".

I’m thinking of doing Yuletide this year but I’m used to shipping centric exchanges rather than requesting based on characters. Can you still request ships in your request if that’s what you really want for a particular fandom, or do you have to be open to gen? (Also how does matching work with such rare fandoms?)

--

You should be aware that your writer is allowed to write gen even if you only request shippy scenarios.

Some fools will talk about "gen outs" as though it's polite to your writer to give them bullshit options to make them feel better about not being able to write what you want. I've been doing Yuletide since 2003, and this is a relatively recent (and stupid) thing. Ask for what you actually want. If that's a particular ship, just provide a variety if ideas for how you'd like to see them together. Don't be like "DNW: gen", but do make your real tastes clear.

As a writer, I'd rather know what you want most, and then I'll be in charge of figuring out if I can write it for you.

As a recipient, I've basically always gotten a ship I asked for unless it was incest not everyone in the fandom shipped or something. I've gotten a fair amount of porn I asked for, though not always, as you'd expect. (There's a pretty big gap between "Please don't break up my ship" and "You have to write my ship fucking exactly like this", after all.) I usually say I like casefic and other plotty things that also aren't fair to demand, and I've gotten them pretty regularly too.

Be positive. Only provide prompts you're genuinely excited about. That's usually inspiring to people even if they don't like exactly what you like.

Just be okay with the fact that your writer might choose to take things in a different direction.

[rafescoke]

Maybank ; Rafe Cameron (Part 2)

Part #2

Read part #1 here

masterlist

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Sometimes both sides are in the wrong.

Warnings: More angst, mentions of substance, gaslighting!

A/N: you know the drill. . . send requests!

(Y/N) isn’t one to feel jealous easily.

When she dated a certain boy from her school a few years ago, she wasn’t even phased when she had found him kissing another girl at a party.

She simply didn’t care.

But the aching feeling in her when she saw her current boyfriend sniffing a line on the back of a random girl with the perfect house and the perfect clothes and the-

“(Y/N), do you want to come down to the beach with us?”

(Y/N) finally looks up from her novel in which she wasn’t even reading in the first place. Her mind was somewhere else, and her thoughts weren’t put in the context of the book.

“No. I’m not feeling well.”

JJ sighs, fixing his cap backwards and placing himself beside her. He looks over her lap, reading the first few lines of the book his sister’s reading and sighs. 

“I never read, so I do not understand how this whole novel thing works. But I’m pretty sure reading about getting over a breakup won’t do you any good.”

(Y/N) rolls her eyes, snapping her book with a shut. The last thing she ever wants is for JJ to lecture her. She had enough bawling her eyes the past 2 weeks. 

“What time are you supposed to go again? Go.”

She’s grateful, of course, for JJ. He was there for her the whole 2 weeks when she didn’t feel like eating or taking a shower or anything that involved getting out of the bed.

But she feels better now, her hair perfectly up in a hairdo and the red color of her cheeks returning.

She’s not sad anymore.

The feeling evolves into anger.

Of course, (Y/N).

You’re nothing but a pogue.

If there’s one thing Obx is famous for, that will be the annual bonfire. It’s an excuse for every teenager on the island to let loose and to free themselves after a year of studying.

For (Y/N), it’s just another party for Rafe to ignore her.

But she’s not coming down to the beach with him a few distance away, hell, she doesn’t even know if he’s coming.

“What the fuck! You told me you’re not coming,” JJ laughs, giving his sister a side hug. “You look good. You don’t look pale anymore.”

“I’m gonna be sick if you keep saying nice things to me,” (Y/N) rolls her eyes, though her insides are beaming. JJ has always been her number one supporter, and she loves her brother with all her heart.

“Just don’t go to the other side of the beach, okay? All your friends are here.”

And we’re back to him protecting her.

She gets it, really, but she doesn’t feel like a night full of JJ and his friends becoming some sort of bodyguards to her.

The last thing she ever wants is for Rafe to think she’s still weak.

“J, I know.”

He holds both of his hands up, “I’m just saying. I’m by the fire if you ever need me, okay?”

It’s funny how the boy who cried to her over his scraped knee is the same boy who’s trying his best to protect her. Growing up in a dysfunctional family, all (Y/N) and JJ has is each other. 

(Y/N) walks to the music booth, getting so tired over the same artist being played over and over again. She doesn’t feel like listening to Drake all while trying to forget a certain brunette boy from the back of her head.

“Hey, can I get something different? Play the Euphoria soundtrack if you must. Anything other than the songs you’re playing.”

The DJ looks up to her and gives out the widest grin. (Y/N) tries to look away from the charming smile, but her eyes are glued to a pair of blue ones.

“Not a fan of Drake?”

“Nah.”

“Why? Trying to move on from an ex?”

She gulps, “No. Just have a good taste in music.”

The guy licks his teeth, “Touche. The name’s Nate.”

(Y/N) gives him a small grin, “Hm. Can we change the song now?”

Nate raises a brow because god; no one has ever disregard him. 

There’s something about the girl.

“Is Party In The USA good enough for you, princess?”

Her breath hitches. The last time someone has ever called her princess was probably a few weeks ago. 

This is not helping her to get over him.

“Whatever. You’re the DJ, right?” she answers, turning on her heels. “Oh wait, Nate?”

He smiles at her again, and (Y/N) has the urge to slap the smug look off his face.

“Don’t call me princess. You’re not my boyfriend.”

For the past 40 minutes, no Drake song has been playing. The crowd begins filling the empty space in the middle to dance with each other, and (Y/N) has to look away from the couple getting close and leaving kisses down each other’s necks.

She makes her way down to the drinks counter to get herself a beer because she really doesn’t feel like watching another friend of hers kissing their partners while sober. She decides that if she has to stay for another hour of people making out with each other, it’s better if she’s intoxicated.

“Hey.”

(Y/N) turns her back, expecting to see a drunk friend of hers, but the sight of the same DJ from before greets her.

She rolls her eyes, “I’m not asking you to change the music.”

“I know, I guess I started off wrong just now. Let me reintroduce myself. You deserve to know the real me.”

(Y/N) laughs, because this whole thing sounds like something out of a corny Netflix movie. He’s cute, sure, but she’s just not interested.

He removes the beanie he’s been wearing all night, revealing a blonde buzz cut underneath. (Y/N) tries not to stare.

Okay. Screw cute. He’s handsome. 

“Hi, I’m Nate. I’m from New York, and I just moved here.”

She smiles, finally, because he fits the exact image she has of every male teenager in New York. Blonde buzz cut, an unbuttoned blue shirt with a peak of his toned body underneath, and a pair of red shorts. 

A new kook.

“Nate, your kind and I don’t match. You’re a kook.”

He scrunches his face, “They’ve been telling me that shit since the first week I’ve been here-” he steps closer, and (Y/N) can smell his expensive cologne. It’s not the same one she favors on Rafe, but it’s close. “-don’t tell me you believe that stuff.”

Oh.

She grins, “I’m not rich, Nate.”

“So?”

Oh.

“The name’s (Y/N),” she smiles, extending her hand. Nate beams, because finally, after a whole night of watching her from his booth, she finally expresses the most beautiful smile there is. 

“(Y/N), I feel like we’re going to get closer soon.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“I’m not a Drake’s fan either.”

. . .

(Y/N)’s hesitant. 

She doesn’t believe him in one bit, not even when he flashes her the most charming smile ever. 

But he’s not afraid to show her off. She went on a date with him a few nights ago, and she distanced herself from him upon the entrance of the restaurant.

“What the fuck are you doing? C’mere.”

(Y/N) looked up to him, “You don’t have to stay near with me.”

Nate turned to her with a confused expression. “Why? I’m buying you dinner, remember?”

He held her hands in his, and she let him.

Nate pokes her side and suppresses a giggle when she yelps from the sudden touch. He fails, however, when she falls from his bed onto the floor. 

“You’re too ticklish,” he says and helps her up to her feet. Her eyes wander to the band posters on his wall again, being so amazed and surprised by this boy’s taste in music and movies.

“I don’t even listen to half of the bands you listen to,” she says finally, pulling herself down to the empty space beside him. “Do you know who’s Ariana Grande?”

Nate rolls his eyes, “Ha-ha. No. I don’t. Is she the one who sang Despacito or something?”

(Y/N) laughs and her heart suddenly soars. She feels at ease, and there’s lightness in the air, even when they’re in public.

(Y/N) stands up, taking the full room into view again, and walks to the shelf full of pictures of Nate and his family. There’s a picture of him in a soccer jersey, a picture of him playing the drums and then an electric guitar, and-

“Oh my god, is this your girlfriend?” (Y/N) exclaims, picking up a photo frame with a beautiful brunette girl smiling back at her. “She’s so pretty.”

“(Y/N), put it back,” Nate rolls his eyes, standing up from the comfort of his bed and walking towards her. (Y/N) laughs, liking the way his eyebrows scrunch in distress and hides the photo frame behind her.

“(Y/N). . . I’m not playing.”

“No one is playing, Nate,” she laughs, taking a few steps back as he motions forward. “I can’t believe you have a sweetheart back in NYC, Nate.”

“(Y/N), put it back.”

(Y/N) pulls a confused expression, “Put what back?” she brings the frame forward, and expressed a fake sigh. “Oh, this? I was just checking this out-” Nate charges for her and she squeals, running towards the end of his room and watching as he runs in her direction. She panics, looking around for a place to hide, and as her eyes meet his bed, Nate has the same idea in his head.

He pushes her over his bed so she topples over, the frame still in her hands. She yelps, leaving the frame alone and using both of her hands to push his chest away. 

Nate hovers over her, being so close he can smell her sweet scent now, and she looks so good under his yellow lights and in his bed and that goddamn smirk on her face-

“Is she your girlfriend, Nate?”

“None of your concern, princess,” he answers. Her eyes snap down to the cross dangling from his neck, and he can’t do this anymore; not when she looks so pretty under his gaze.

(Y/N) can feel the sudden change in the air now, and the chasing game they’ve been playing suddenly doesn’t look like a chasing game.

He’s like a predator waiting to attack. 

(Y/N)’s eyes look up to him again. “Is she your girlfriend?”

And he connects his lips with her. She gasps from the sudden touch, but after a few seconds, he can feel her kissing him back. 

And for once, she feels okay again. She wraps her arms around him, pulling him close to her and letting his warmth engulfing her.

She feels at peace.

“Rafe,” she whispers, letting the blonde boy trails down to her neck.

Nate pulls away, his lips sore and red after their brief makeout session.

Chest heaving, he steps away. “Rafe?”

(Y/N) sits up, groaning and fixing her hair. “God, I’m so stupid. I don’t mean that, Nate, I’m sorry. Please, don’t go.”

Nate pulls a disgusted face, and it’s the same look Rafe had put in the party a few weeks ago to her and she can feel herself losing again. 

“I’m going out. You can stay here if you want.”

“Nate-”

The door closes behind him, and (Y/N) groans. 

Way to go, (Y/N).

. . .

She hates how bad she feels for Nate.

He has been nothing but a total sweetheart to her, and there she was; moaning another guy’s name and letting him walked out of his own home.

So that’s the core reason as to why she’s standing outside of his house at 10 p.m. on a Friday, letting the heavy rain soaks her whole outfit because of course she would forget to bring an umbrella.

She knocks again, with her fists this time, because she’s certain he hadn’t heard her. For a moment, she’s afraid his father or mother would open the door but after remembering how they’re going to be away for a business trip, she sighs in relief. 

The door opens midway of her banging on the door, revealing a shirtless Nate with nothing but green sweatpants complimenting his legs.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing here?” he groans, tugging her arms in and closing the door after her. (Y/N) attacks him in a tight hug, slightly shivering from the cold rain outside, and after a few seconds, Nate hugs her back.

“You’re okay?”

“Can we talk in your room?”

“Uh, I don’t-”

(Y/N) doesn’t let him give any excuse and she pulls him into the living room, but before she can reach the space, he pulls her to a halt.

“Hey, we can’t go there, I’m kinda, um, doing something. What’s wrong?”

She sighs, “Nate, I’m so sorry, okay? I didn’t mean it when I called you someone else’s name and that’s the stupidest thing I ever did but please don’t go, okay? You’re all I have.”

Nate laughs, “God, you’re really worried about that? I get it, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.”

“It is, really. But tell me one thing, though-” he pulls her arms, and pins her against the wall. (Y/N) smiles, staring into his blue orbs. “Is this Rafe more handsome than me?”

“Hey man, we really can’t wait-” a voice starts from the direction of the living room, and before (Y/N) can move away, the voice rings again. “Ah. Of course.”

Oh my god.

She misses him too much. His hair is messier than ever, his eyes bloodshot and his nose red. (Y/N) wonders how many lines he did, but judging from the distant look in his eyes, she’s guessing a lot.

“Rafe,” she whispers, getting closer to the boy she missed and letting his smell engulf her. 

“Rafe?” Nate quirks a brow because this isn’t making any sense. Why would she called his friend the name-

Of course.

Rafael is Rafe.

So this is the guy.

His childhood friend is ‘the Rafe’ of the girl he’s starting to fall for.

After so many hours of trying to find the Rafe she accidentally called him, he hadn’t thought of his own childhood friend to be the guy all along.

Growing up, he have been told to call him Rafael up until the day he moved to New York. 

He can’t believe it.

“Rafe,” she calls again, this time following Rafe out to the living room. “Rafe, listen to me.”

“You moved on too fast.”

“I haven’t moved on, Rafe, fuck, I swear I haven’t,” she expresses. “Please. Listen to me.”

“You were mad at me for doing a line from some bitch’s back and you’re, you’re o-out here, under my own fucking friend’s arms and- did y’all fucked?”

“What?” she gasps, “God, Rafe, no. No. I will never fuck anyone other than you.”

“Yeah?” Rafe raises a brow and lets out a shrill laugh. “God, I don’t even know if I can trust you.”

“You can, Rafe,” she steps forward, trying to reach his face with her cold fingers. The anger she felt before suddenly dissipates into the thin air because god, she did not realize how much she has been missing this boy more than anything in the world.

Her everything.

Rafe flinches away, “Stop. Do you know how miserable I am the past few weeks without you?”

“Don’t turn this on me now, Rafe.” “And you’re out here with fucking Nate Hamilton. Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Rafe, it’s not like that,” Nate suddenly steps in, and (Y/N) gives him a warning look not to say anything more. He ignores her, “Are we not going to talk about how you disregard her just because of her status on this fucking island?”

“God, always with your equality shit,” Rafe groans. “You guys deserve each other. I can’t believe you will ever do this to me, Nate.”

What hurt Rafe more isn’t the fact that she was all pinned under his arms, but it was because Nate knew about their relationship. Rafe had told him everything about her ever since they first started dating, and he hadn’t just lost her tonight.

He lost his childhood friend too.

“I’m leaving,” he says, rubbing his nose and sniffing. Rafe isn’t sure how many lines he has done, but his mind is getting lighter and lighter and the lights are turning blurry. 

He can’t stand being in the same room as them. He will fucking drive if he has to.

(Y/N) bites her lips, trying to stop herself from bursting into tears. So they know each other? Why won’t Rafe ever tell her about him? Is this still her fault? She wasn’t even cheating on him. They’re not together.

Right?

Are they together?

“Hey, you’re okay?”

(Y/N) pulls her hands away, stepping away from the blonde boy and walking towards the exit. She has to leave this house as soon as possible. The once comforting bright color of the wall seems so dull and suffocating now, and she longs for the familiar blue paint of Rafe’s room.

She wants Rafe. 

No one else.

Just him.

“Just me?” Rafe smiled. “Hey, hey, I got a surprise for you.”

“Rafe, I hate surprises,” (Y/N) groaned, throwing her head back against the headrest. “You bought me a dress before!”

“Look-” he smiled, showing her a gold ring in a small velvet box. “It’s a ring.”

“Oh my god, it looks like yours!” (Y/N) exclaimed, clutching his hand with the ring and comparing the color. 

“Of course it’s the same ring. You’re my wife, I’m not going to buy you a different kind.”

“Wife?”

“What? Am I not your husband?”

(Y/N) wishes for nothing but Rafe. 

She presses on his contact again, turning her phone downside and moving the speaker nearer to her lips.

“Rafe, please call me back. I miss you, and we can fix this, okay? I didn’t know about Nate and I was so, so stupid. I can never replace you, Rafe. You’re mine, remember? Please. Call me back. I miss you.”

She sighs, setting her phone down on her lap and watches as the rain patters down her front windscreen heavily.

Love is a hell of a drug.

-

@okayshoto @joselyn001 @onceuponateenagetrash @dyingsleeping @iwannabeapogue @meaganjm @rafesobxs @flossy2929 @unfortunatekiwitrash @scottybitch @asimpwriter @amaya124 @tommy-tommo @thatshithurted8 @fallincindy @marvelwhor3 @rafeswh0ree @kookap @supernaturallydc-blog @blank-velvet @alaniskauany @kiiim8 @witchywrter @kaitlyn2907 @heyimflo @overcookedpastasause @tsukkiswifeey @spidey-d00d @anonymousobxfan @gotmeinloveagain @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @lexi-writes @classydragonthingknight @belongtoyou-u @badbussylol @savannah-elliott @angelreyesgirl100 @haterpenny @beehappyyy @alwaysclassyeagle @maybankslut @kayleea122 @clearbolts @lovelyxtom @christianaevans @jemimah-b99 @opierdalacz @dangerdolns @wildflowerliv @classygirlything21 @pogueslandia @alwaysclassyeagle @rottenstyx @wxn-drlst

[ratmonky]

Deceitful Curse

Word Count: 10K

Warnings: non-con, stalking, obsession, mild blood, chikan, gaslighting, manipulation, humiliation, degradation, misogyny, exhibitionism

AO3 Link

As promised, this will be a gift fic for my lovely friend @lyrrotting​ , I promise I will write your four armed Sukuna fic soon to make up for this shitty fic lol <3 

It was said that most people had an angel sitting on their right shoulder and a devil sitting on their left shoulder, the two bickered into the person’s ears about many things. While the devil would try to tempt the person, the angel would become the sound of conscience.

However, Yuuji only had the King of Curses whispering in his ear and he himself had to be the voice of conscience within his own mind.

Certainly, there would be a time he would be tempted to listen.

~~~

Life was good, Yuuji had already graduated over a year ago and gotten his sorcerer license to work until his inevitable execution.

Life was good, everyone had moved on with their lives. Inumaki had gotten a girlfriend, Fushiguro had a girlfriend and from what he heard, Maki and Kugisaki were dating each other.

Life was good, they were all happy.

Life was good, everyone else was happy.

~~~

There was a new coffee shop that had opened just two blocks down from where he lived. Naturally, Yuuji wanted to check it out for the sole purpose of seeing how big the place was. When he invited his friends over to his place and if they ever stayed the night, he wanted to have a place he could take them to for a brunch or a cup of coffee.

Unfortunately for him, the place was small. There were barely a dozen tables and nobody seemingly wanted to sit at the cramped coffee shop when they could walk to the nearby park to enjoy their coffee.

The place was crowded due to rush hour so he returned a couple of hours later to finally order something.

As soon as he walked inside, the sugary smell of the sweets and the strong aroma of the coffee surrounded him.

“Welcome!” said a cheerful voice. It was you, beaming at him with the brightest smile he had ever seen on anyone. It looked too genuine to be a fake service worker's smile.

He hesitantly walked up to the counter with a blush coloring his cheeks from the intensity of your smile that was aimed towards him. “Hi,” he said before lifting his eyes up to the menu displays. “Ah.” He had no idea what to get. “Takeaway, I think, and ahh… Um…”

As if you noticed his struggle, you started talking. “If you like sweets I’d recommend my special summer drink. If you like coffee, I can give you the best brew in the whole city. It isn't strong but the aroma actually tastes like fresh coffee beans, I roast them fresh every day.” You were so bright, still smiling. Didn’t your cheeks hurt? How could anyone be this sweet? “Or I can choose a drink for you! Trust me, I’ll make it count!”

He understood none of the things you were saying but he felt like he could trust you to choose a drink for him, so he nodded approvingly.

Clapping your hands together, you walked behind the coffee machine and disappeared from his view. “You live around here?”

Yuuji was caught off guard and didn’t realize you were talking to him for a while until you repeated your question. “Ah, yes! I live around the corner.”

“I’ll do my best to impress you so you’ll buy coffee from here every day.” Your tone wasn’t flirty. It was friendly and inviting, actually welcoming.

“That’s a good business tactic,” he said, matching your tone. “But I’m not that easy to impress.”

“Isn’t my prices enough to impress you? They’re rather cheap for the service you get and I’m not even talking about the quality of my products.” You reappeared with a plastic coffee mug, it had ice and apparently black coffee in it. You poured some sort of golden cream over the coffee on the counter where he could see it.

Like hypnotized, Yuuji watched with his mouth wide open as the two colors mixed in a gradient effect in his drink before you put a lid on it.

“Was that good enough?” you asked, proudly. “To impress you I mean.”

“Y-yeah.” He reached and took the drink you set on the counter. He was carefully examining the colors in awe when he abruptly realized that he hadn’t even paid yet. Hastily he dug his hand in his pocket and took out his wallet, “I’ll come here more often I think if I like the drink of course.”

“Hmm, you’ll like it so I’m not worried.” You smiled as he paid with his credit card. “See you later…” Furrowing your burrows, you looked at him so he would fill in.

“Itadori,” he introduced himself, blushing. “Yuuji Itadori.”

“(name),” you said, offering a cute smile. “Have a nice day, Itadori.”

“Y-you too.” He waved awkwardly and you did the same with a giggle. It was clear that he was a little overwhelmed.

By the time Yuuji exited the shop, he hadn’t realized how hard he was blushing or how he had forgotten to even try his drink. Then he blushed even harder realizing how embarrassing he acted back in the shop but he shook his head to get over those thoughts.

Decidedly, he took a sip from his coffee and immediately understood why you were so confident that he would be back to buy more.

~~~

The next day, it wasn’t exactly the incredible coffee you had sold him yesterday that brought him here.

It was you.

He was trying to convince himself that wasn’t the case though.

However, Sukuna knew the truth.

~~~

“Being single sucks!” Yuuji complained with a whine after slamming his empty glass on the table.

“You should try those dating apps if you really want a girlfriend,” Fushiguro replied and flicked the ash off his cigarette on the ashtray.

“I agree, Itadori, if you really are determined to be in a relationship then you should try meeting new people.” Yuuta fanned the smoke Fushiguro blew towards him away using his hand with a forced smile.

Inumaki nodded in agreement, continuing to munch on the salted crackers and avoiding drinking.

“It’s easy for all of you with pretty girlfriends to say!” Panda cried, “It’s only me and Itadori who’s single.” He wrapped his big arms around Yuuji and started rocking back and forth.

“You can always book a flight to China to meet with a female Panda?” Yuuji said in a confused tone, “Or the zoo?”

Panda froze and loosened his arms around Yuuji before pushing him away from himself. “That was rude.”

“Huh?” Yuuji raised a brow, still confused.

“His type is more… humane, I think.” Yuuta scratched at his cheeks and raised his brows, hoping that Panda would deny what he just said but he didn’t.

“Wait.” Yuuji’s eyes widened, “So, you’re telling me that it would actually work between you and a human, or is it-”

“Itadori,” Fushiguro said to stop Yuuji from delving deeper into the uncomfortable topic. “Leave Panda’s love life alone.”

“Hmm, why did you bring up the topic of wanting to get a girlfriend?” Yuuta asked, humming thoughtfully. “Do you have someone you like?”

“Deja vu,” Panda mumbled under his breath, nobody heard him.

As soon as the question was asked to him, Yuuji thought of one single person; you. The image of your smile and your cheerful voice. It was just a simple crush, the two of you were total strangers. Yet, he was still thinking about you right now and couldn’t get you out of his mind.

He suppressed all of those thoughts and noticed how everyone was looking at him, waiting for his answer.

“No, I don’t,” Yuuji replied.

~~~

Unlike Sukuna, Yuuji was an inexperienced young man. He was a celibate too. Which meant that to him, sexual desires had to come after love. The feelings of love and affection were important when it came to sex. Having sex was an act of love and a form of affection, to prove to the person he was involved with that he was devoting himself to them.

Pathetic.

The kid had already grown up to be an adult but still had the mentality of a child.

Sukuna knew he could help.

~~~

“You’re coming here more often now,” Sukuna pointed out. “Is it because you know the server likes you?”

“No, she doesn’t like me,” Yuuji deadpanned. He pouted cutely seconds later and watched you walk over to his table holding a tray with his drink on it with a bright smile. “I’m here only because this place makes the best coffee.”

“Here you go,” you chirped, putting Yuuji’s drink on the table. Your friendly smile and gorgeous eyes wandered on his face for a moment longer than usual. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thank you.” He was blushing.

You flashed him another stunning smile before turning around on your heels.

“She’s into you,” Sukuna declared.

Yuuji ignored Sukuna’s words and stared after you as you walked back to the counter to take another order. His eyes couldn’t leave the way your hips moved with each step you took.

Sukuna’s lips on Yuuji’s hand grinned before disappearing.

~~~

“The girl looks like her,” Sukuna said.

“Will you be quiet?” Yuuji groaned and slapped his cheek so he would go away.

It was silent, he smiled to himself. Finally, he had some privacy.

The porn actress spread her legs and Yuuji wrapped his left hand around his cock after licking his palm as he was holding his phone with his right. He slid his fist up along his length and squeezed tightly towards the tip. The pressure felt the best when he applied it to the sensitive tip.

Loud moans coming from the actress filled his apartment since he hadn’t bothered to put on headphones. Not that he needed them when he was living alone but it was a habit now. So, he lowered the volume.

However, there was another reason why he didn’t need to hear the moans of the actress.

“She doesn’t sound like her, does she?” Sukuna made fun of him.

Yuuji ignored him and didn’t bother to tell him that it wasn’t the case. He just needed to cum and go to bed, that was it. He was too used to Sukuna interrupting his self-care time at this point and if the King of Curses didn’t mind watching a guy jerk off to some cheap porn, so be it. They were sharing Yuuji’s body and mind. Or not?

Yuuji focused on the video as the girl bent over and started fingering herself in an awkward position. His hand around his cock started moving to match the way her fingers went in and out of her cunt.

She really looked like you.

Wasn’t that why he had chosen this video?

Nevermind. Forget about it.

He had read or heard somewhere that masturbating with the non-dominant hand could give more pleasure. It was something he had done when he was only a teenager to try it out but now he liked to use his left hand.

It felt different, sometimes his hand went numb and it felt like someone else was touching him. You were touching him.

You.

This had to be how a handjob felt, if you ever gave him a handjob it would definitely feel like this.

Yuuji dropped the phone and closed his eyes, only focusing on his fantasies about you while jerking himself off. His hand moved faster while his hips were desperately thrusting up as if to mimic fucking you.

You would tease him, wouldn’t you? Stare at him with a grin, edge him and even slow down just to make him whine.

Or perhaps you would get rid of your clothes hurriedly to ease yourself down on his cock. Were you a virgin? You would be his first, he would want you to be your first too.

Were you the type to whimper or moan during sex?

Where would you place your hands?

Would you move your hips?

Which position would make you lose yourself?

He would want to be on top, so he could watch your face and kiss you.

What kind of face would you make?

Would you be blushing and moaning?

The image of your eyes overflowing with tears while your face was being stained with the same tears and your ruined makeup appeared within his mind.

Yuuji abruptly came harder than he ever had in his whole life and his seed landed on his stomach, his orgasm left his legs shaking in pleasure.

~~~

He didn’t go to the coffee shop the day after from embarrassment.

~~~

“You weren’t here yesterday,” you remarked while making his drink. “I was sure you were going to be here after I made you my new drink on the menu.”

“Ahh, I was just busy and didn’t have time to swing by.” It was a simple lie and it wasn’t like he could ever tell you that he was scared of himself after he came to his fantasy of seeing you cry. “I didn’t think you’d miss me this much.”

“Well, you’re my only loyal customer,” you pouted and put his drink on the counter. Nobody else was in the shop, another coffee place had opened just around the corner. “You always drink my special brew coffee too. It’s like an honor to me that you like my coffee.”

“It’s the best coffee I’ve ever had,” his reply was instantaneous and honest. “I like this place, I can tell how much love you put into making your drinks and it feels cozy here.”

You were grinning, “Mm, tell me more. Praise me more. What else?”

He started smirking but his blush ruined the smug face he was making. “Never mind, you’re weirding me out.”

“Hey! I was just asking you what else you like about my place! What’s weird about wanting to know how I can make this place better?” you feigned anger.

He wanted to tell you that he was only coming here for you. Wait, no. He came here for the coffee. Nothing else.

“What about making new drinks every week? They’d sell more and you’d get to try out new things?” he said after careful thinking.

“That’s actually a good idea, thank you, Itadori!”

Ahh, the way you said his name… Yuuji wanted to hear you say his name again and again. Over and over again.

“It’s nothing,” he replied, rubbing his neck nervously with his hand. “I’m just trying to help.”

~~~

It started with small words of encouragement.

“That woman likes you, I can tell from the way she smiles at you. Talk to her more and befriend her.”

“It’s not like you to say nice things,” Yuuji said, averting his gaze from yours in embarrassment when you looked his way. He hoped you hadn’t caught him looking. “Besides, she’s just a server. It’s her job to attract customers with a smile and sweet talk.”

“Every server needs a master,” Sukuna spoke through Yuuji’s hand. Nobody could see him since the guy had his hand pressed against his ear. “She doesn’t look at you the same way she looks at the other peasants here.”

Yuuji didn’t say anything.

~~~

His finger hovered over the follow button.

”That’s her?” Sukuna asked, his ancient soul was getting used to the technology he saw his vessel was using. “Those are her pictures?”

“Yeah.” Yuuji gulped, nodding languidly. It would be weird if he followed you, right? He had found your account by chance. Not because he found the account of your coffee shop and then scrolled through the following list to find a friend of yours and then searched through their following list to find your name to eventually find your account. Only by chance.

“She looks different in the pictures.” Sukuna was right. You were smiling as usual but you weren’t wearing your cafe uniform. You were wearing normal clothes. Clothes that revealed more of your skin, your shoulders, legs, thighs, and in some pictures your cleavage. There was a smug look on your face when you were looking at the camera as if you knew whoever was looking at these pictures was admiring your beauty.

“Yeah, she does.” He was now looking at a picture of you in a dress that fit you just right, showing your curves he hadn’t noticed in your uniform.

“She’s beautiful.” Sukuna could sense the intensity of his vessel’s stare at your picture.

“Yeah.”

“I’d save that picture if I were you.” Sukuna grinned.

Yuuji took a screenshot.

~~~

“You should be more assertive if you want her to consider you as a man,” Sukuna said as Yuuji was walking towards the coffee shop. “Women like confident men.”

“You come from the ancient times, this is the new age. Women are equal with men and I want her to feel-”

“Women want men. Not boys. Definitely not brats like you.” Sukuna disappeared when his vessel entered the coffee shop.

Yuuji sighed in a dismissive manner, “Whatever you say.”

~~~

Women want men.

~~~

“What do women like in a man?” Yuuji asked.

The happy laughter of the guys died out as soon as he asked that and the loud chatter of the other people inside the bar couldn’t fill the dead silence Yuuji created.

They were all looking at each other around the table now. Nobody wanted to talk.

“I guess they like guys who are assertive,” Yuuta responded when no one else did. “Megumi, why don’t you say something? What does your girlfriend like about you?”

Fushiguro was inanimate as he stubbed out his cigarette on the ashtray and took a long moment to consider what he was going to say. “She said that likes that I’m possessive and get jealous when she talks to other guys.”

“Hmm, possessive and jealous...” Yuuta nodded and then turned to Inumaki. “And your girlfriend liked that she can depend on you, right?”

“Salmon.”

“There you have it,” Yuuta concluded. “They like possessive guys who they can depend on!”

“What about you, Okkotsu?” Yuuji asked. “What does your girlfriend like about you?”

The person in question looked a little lost and taken aback that he was being asked. He had to take a deep breath to keep his facial expressions normal. “She likes that I take control.”

“How?” Yuuji was desperate.

“Isn’t that a bit invasive question, Itadori?” Fushiguro warned in a soft tone.

“It’s not invasive at all!” Yuuta forced a laugh and spoke in the same joking manner. “It means that I was a little pushy and bold, I think?”

Both Fushiguro and Inumaki started agreeing.

“I see.” Yuuji realized that Sukuna was right.

~~~

“Isn’t that her picture?”

Yuuji ignored him and continued rubbing his cock.

His hand started moving faster, his eyes were trained on the picture of you, eyes roaming on your body and imagining how it would feel to run his hands along your curves.

“She looks like she’d love taking it from her ass.”

“Shut up, she’s not like that!” he immediately protested. His cheeks were bright red from shame. He had never done it to the pictures of the people he had met. Only celebrities. It didn’t feel right.

“She’s a woman. I know what women want and like.” Sukuna was confident. “I know exactly what she wants, unlike you.”

Yuuji tried blocking out the curse’s voice in his head and tightened his grip as well as his pace. He was imagining you again, eyes full of tears and you were twisting your body to push him weakly away with your tiny hands as he took you from behind.

Thanks to that fantasy, he came in an instant.

~~~

Yuuji was a good guy.

He was sacrificing his life to save others every day and he was going to be executed for the sake of saving humanity from the curses.

He could never be the bad guy.

~~~

“Welcome,” you chirped as soon as he walked through the door. “The usual?”

Yuuji awkwardly smiled and bowed his head to greet you. “Y-yeah.”

“Had a good day?” Turning around, you walked away from the counter to reach the coffee machine, disappearing from his view.

Yuuji made his way towards the counter and tried recalling how his day had been. He had exorcised a couple of curses and even got the opportunity to catch up with Fushiguro and his girlfriend when they ran into each other downtown. To put it simply, his day had been the worst. “It was a good day, how was yours?”

Dumb.

You were only making small talk because he was a regular here, nothing more. He knew people who worked in small coffee shops like this were always friendly to attract customers, to give a sense of home to people who come here for a drink or the tasty sweets. It was a marketing strategy.

“My day was tiring. I took your advice and put a new drink on the menu but apparently, it’s really good because everyone wanted to try it. However, the thing is… it’s so hard to make it!!” You appeared in front of him again with his drink and pointed behind you, at the menu displays. “I ran out of strawberries twice and had to call to ask my friend to go buy some from the store for me.”

“Woah, that sounds really exhausting!” he said in a tone to match your own while you were making a cutesy pouting face. “Hmm.” There was a momentary pause as he took his coffee from you and grinned. “I changed my mind, I also want to try this incredibly hard-to-make drink too.”

Your shoulders slacked and you gave an exaggerated sigh. “I thought you of all people would pity me…”

“I’m known for being ruthless,” he joked, chuckling. The smile on his face was genuine and he couldn’t stop smiling, it was as if he could never be in a bad mood around you. “But yes, I was joking. No need to call a friend to buy more strawberries or anything.”

You pointed a finger at him with mock threat and anger. “Don’t make fun of me or I won’t serve you again.”

“That’s better than threatening to spit in my coffee.” He tilted his head and shrugged.

“You said it as if I don’t do it all the time.” You raised a brow.

Both of you laughed but once the joke died out, there was an awkward silence.

“Anyway,” you said, gesturing towards one of the tables you clearly had wiped and cleaned because you were getting ready to close the place. “You can take a seat there if you wanna, I sadly have to finish up cleaning.”

When he looked around he could see that there was a mop you were planning to use. He didn’t want to disturb you any longer. It would be weird if he sat down when you were desperately trying to close the shop for the night.

It was rude and you were only being polite to him.

“I’ll drink this on the way home,” Yuuji replied with a nervous grin, and the tension from your shoulders visibly relaxed.

“Have a good evening!” you chirped after him as he turned around his heels.

“You too!” He exited the shop.

“Coward,” Sukuna spat.

“Please, be quiet.” Not again. Not this devil again.

“You could’ve fucked her against that counter. She was all over you, begging for you to make a move.” There was an undeniable smile in his voice.

“Be quiet, will you?” No. You were just an innocent girl. Someone who was nice to him because he came to buy coffee. He was just a customer.

“You, brat, are going to die as a celibate if you keep this up. Have you ever stick it inside a woman before? Do you have any idea of how heavenly a woman’s warmth is? The way they squirm and moan under you as they give you the look of an angel’s and beg for you to take it slow, cling onto you with tiny little hands-”

“Shut up!” Yuuji slammed the coffee on the concrete ground, his chest heaving in anger and frustration.

Some passersby stared at him and walked further away from where he was standing.

Sukuna disappeared with a smile.

Yuuji took a deep breath to calm himself.

~~~

The bells over the wooden door chimed, announcing his arrival.

“Hi!” you quickly yelled and appeared by the counter, your smile widened when you realized it was Yuuji. “The usual?”

“You don’t need to ask,” he replied, eyes softening and shoulders relaxing. He felt like himself in here, he felt at home.

“Did you have a good day?” you asked before disappearing behind the coffee machine.

“It was a bad day until I came here,” he said lumberingly, his cheeks flushed from nervousness. He was terrible at flirting.

You laughed, he couldn’t see your reaction but you sounded happy when you spoke. “Ahh, I’m glad I’m able to make you happy! It brings me joy when I manage to help others have a good day in one way or another!”

So kind and selfless.

The two of you were a perfect match.

Seconds later you were standing in front of him with his drink on top of the counter. “I hope you’ll have a great rest of the night, Itadori! I’m glad my coffee was able to help you feel better.”

He opened his mouth to say that it wasn’t the coffee that made him happy but he closed it when he realized how weird it would sound. “Thank you.”

~~~

“I like you and I think we should hang out sometime,” he said, smiling awkwardly. Seconds of silence passed and he slapped a hand on his face in embarrassment. After taking a deep breath he tried again. “Do you wanna go out for dinner this weekend?”

“You are acting like a brat,” Sukuna mocked. “Go up to her and tell her you to want to make her yours like a real man.”

Yuuji ignored him while staring at his reflection in the mirror and groaned. He hated when Sukuna said things that made sense.

His clothes were ironed and his hair was slicked back with the hair gel he had bought in a rush.

“You look pathetic.” Brutally honest, Sukuna’s voice had a tone of embarrassment in it. He was ashamed of living inside him.

“I look good.” Yuuji wasn’t going to let him ruin this moment. He was going to prove to everyone else that he could get the girl if he acted like himself. There was no need to be pretending something he wasn’t when it came to you. He knew you would want him to be honest.

“She’s going to reject you, brat. Don’t ridicule yourself and take my advice.”

“What’s your advice?” Yuuji scoffed, “Manhandle her?”

“You’re feeling the instinct of mating and lust,” Sukuna said. “You want to fuck her, you don’t want to make love to her or whatever the humans call it.”

“What?” Yuuji forced a smile on his face and laughed hysterically, “Are you even hearing what you’re saying?”

“Love isn’t real. Obsession, lust, and devotion are real though. You want to breed her. Don’t mix up libido with what peasants would call love.”

There was a grim pause.

“I like her,” Yuuji said. “She’s pretty and she seems like a nice person. Her smile is cute and-”

“Do whatever you want, brat,” Sukuna yawned, getting ready to disappear from Yuuji’s cheek. “Try not to throw a tantrum when you get rejected.”

“You were the one who told me to go up to her and make her mine?” Frustrated, Yuuji rolled his eyes in irritation.

“Making some woman yours doesn’t mean to woo her or make love to her. Are all brats the same as you? Don’t you know that women are pleasure dolls for men? They live to please men.” Sukuna was getting serious, he raised his voice with each sentence. “Women are like fish, they don’t have feelings.”

“That’s not true.” Yuuji’s voice got a little weaker than he had intended to. “You’re wrong.” It didn’t sound like he was denying what Sukuna had said and trying to convince himself that wasn’t the truth instead.

Sukuna disappeared from his cheek with a malicious grin.

Shaking his head to gather his thoughts, Yuuji quickly walked out of his room and exited his apartment.

It took him twenty minutes to get to the coffee shop when it usually took him barely ten minutes. He had gotten flowers for you. Not really sure which ones to get, he had chosen one of the pink and red bouquets on display. He was nervous and sweating. He had to wipe his palms down on his jeans to keep them dry way too many times, he had stopped counting after the seventh time.

He stood outside of the cafe, trembling in excitement. There weren't any windows at your coffee shop thus he couldn’t see if there were any customers inside. He could only hope that it would be just the two of you alone since there was something very special he needed to tell you.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

He grabbed the handle and opened the door. You were behind the counter, looking down at your phone. As soon as the bells over the door chimed you put it away and smiled, “Welcome!”

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

Yuuji’s grip tightened around the bouquet he was holding, his cheeks started burning in nervousness.

“Woahh, you’re going on a date?” you asked while he walked up to the counter, your voice was as cheerful as ever. “I couldn’t recognize you, should I give you the usual?”

“Uhh, no.” He paused. When both of you stared at each other he realized how awkward and confusing his answer was. “Um, it’s not a date but I’m gonna ask the girl I like out.” His face was turning beet red.

“Aww, that’s so adorable! She’s so lucky, you’ve even bought her flowers, so cutee!!” You pressed a hand over your chest, feigning being hurt. “Ahh, my heart can’t handle it.”

“Y-yeah.” He blushed harder, shifting his weight on his feet nervously. “She’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.”

“You better treat her right then and I hope she’ll say yes.” You didn't miss the eyes on you and continued smiling in discomfort. “The usual?” you asked once it started getting a little too quiet and he nodded.

The uncomfortable silence started making Yuuji reconsider what to say or if he should say them at all. You put his coffee on the counter before he could take his time thinking.

“Is that all?” you asked as you were putting his order’s total into the cash register.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

“N-no,” he replied in a quiet voice while reluctantly taking out his wallet to pay for his coffee.

“I hope you have a lovely night, Itadori. Go get the girl!” you cheered him on with a cute smile.

“Actually,” he started, looking at you with his flushed cheeks and fidgeting with his fingers. “Ahh, (name), I wanted to tell you something.”

“Hmm, what is it?” You were smiling, watching him in confusion.

Yuuji decided that he shouldn’t beat around the bush at this moment because he wanted to seem confident. He knew if he didn’t spit it out now or else he would never say it. He had to get to the point and dive in ahead without any hesitation.

“I like you.”

Lifting the bouquet, he held it up towards you as you looked at him and then at the bouquet repeatedly with wide eyes but you didn’t seem shocked.

You opened your mouth to say something but closed it again.

“I mean, you’re such a nice person and I found myself always looking forward to seeing you. I think about you all the time and I can’t get you out of my head. I used to hate it here, it’s a large city with too many people… but then you took over this shop, and now I… don’t hate it that much.”

He was saying all that with a puffed chest and a big goofy grin on his face, his cheeks were blushing as he tried not to look nervous. However, when he saw the way your smile curled down to a frown as he kept on talking, it felt like someone poured iced water down his head.

Yuuji couldn’t breathe.

“Um, that’s flattering,” you said, forcing a smile on your face and taking the bouquet from him. “Were these for me?”

“Y-yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

You nodded languidly, noticing that you were the girl he wanted to ask out. “I… I don’t know what to say. Thank you, I really appreciate it.” You couldn’t find the words that wouldn’t hurt him.

Gradually, he noticed how uncomfortable you looked and his smile disappeared from his face.

“I’m sorry but I’m not looking for a relationship, I’m really busy with working and taking care of this cafe but I appreciate your feelings.” You averted your gaze from him for a moment, a scoff left your lips. Were you laughing at him? “I apologize if my affable demeanor gave you the wrong idea but sadly I can’t return your feelings.”

He looked down to his feet to pull himself together, an icy shiver ran through him as he spoke. “Thank you for being honest with me.”

So childish.

“Of course,” you said, forcing a chuckle.

“I hope we can still be friends, I wouldn’t wanna lose you.” Yuuji was desperate, he couldn’t imagine a life without you.

“Of course!” you repeated with a louder forced chuckle. “I don’t want this to ruin our friendship!”

“Me neither.” He couldn’t lift his head or move, his body had turned to stone.

The pauses started to grow longer and eerily quiet. You were the one who spoke next.

“Thank you so much, Itadori, I’m flattered by your confession and I hope we can be close friends!” Pressing the bouquet on your chest and hugging it with both arms, you used a soft tone to talk to him. “I need to close down and catch the train home, I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah…” Yuuji turned around and walked out of the cafe without saying anything else, leaving the coffee he had paid for on the counter.

“I told you, didn’t I, brat?” Sukuna mocked, voice full of mischief as he appeared on his vessel’s cheek.

“Leave me alone,” Yuuji hissed. He was walking away from the coffee shop, not going home though, not yet. He needed to calm down.

“Women want to be ordered around, brat. They want men to take control. If you act like a brat, they won’t see you as a man.”

Yuuji’s breath hitched upon hearing Sukuna’s words. His knees started feeling weaker than they ever could but he had to stand proud, assert his dominance over the King of Curses and collect himself.

It wasn’t fair! It wasn’t fair that he was in this situation, it wasn’t fair that he was rejected, it wasn’t fair that he was cursed to live in despair. He was eventually going to get executed and he hadn’t had a youth where he fulfilled any of his dreams. He had wanted only one thing, to feel happy with one person and that childish wish must have been too much to ask. Not only he got rejected but now he had Sukuna making fun of him.

“You must be a man and make her yours.”

“She told me she didn’t want a relationship.” Yuuji couldn’t deal with him anymore. “We’re friends.”

“Do you want a woman for yourself or not, brat?” Sukuna sighed in irritation before humming thoughtfully. “I’ll help you,” he offered generously, “I’ll help you make her yours.”

“Leave me alone, Sukuna.” Yuuji was getting angrier, and soon he started to tremble in rage.

“Let me help you to get a taste of a woman, brat.”

“She rejected me-”

“She’s just playing hard to get. A woman like her wants to be chased. She didn’t tell you to get lost because she wants you to keep coming back to her so you’ll continue to give her your attention. That girl would spread her legs for anyone who gives her attention if she wasn’t a prude. She’s a virgin, that must be why she’s acting like this. I can smell it, the blood that’s yet to bleed once her innocence is taken. You need to take it, brat.”

“You want me to rape her, is that it?” Yuuji spat, he had never thought he would say those words out loud.

“I never said that, brat.” Sukuna let out a chuckle, lying. “Let me show you what I mean.”

“I’m not letting you take over my body,” he replied coldly.

“I don’t want to take over your body, that woman is yours,” Sukuna assured.

“Then, what do you want me to do?” Yuuji asked.

Sukuna grinned viciously, “Let's go back to where she works first.”

~~~

“Itadori-”

The door closed after him with a soft click.

You let out a frustrated sigh and pressed the bouquet against your chest, hugging them tightly.

That hadn’t gone well at all.

Your eyes landed on the coffee he forgot to take with him on the counter. “I’m the worst,” mumbling, you put the flowers on the counter to prepare the cafe for closing.

You took the paper coffee mug and poured it out, the dark liquid went down the sink as you watched, hypnotized and lost in your thoughts.

That guy… He wasn’t like any other you met. He was adorable and matched your energy like no other person ever had. You enjoyed being around Itadori and you were glad he felt the same but… he knew you for less than two weeks. He was clearly confused, he had made a friend who he managed to click instantly and mistook his feelings for love.

Nonetheless, you felt terrible. It was never easy to reject someone, especially when you were so busy trying to manage the coffee shop of your dreams you finally got to open.

Itadori had to understand that. He would understand, right?

Oh, he had looked so excited and nervous. He had even slicked his messy hair back and brought flowers…

You hoped he would get over it quickly or at least, he would come to the shop tomorrow so you could comfort him. The two of you needed to talk a little more, you needed for him to know that you didn’t want to break his heart. You felt the need to apologize, ahh, so stupid. You hadn’t even done anything wrong.

It hurt though.

It still hurt.

You hated making other people feel bad. You wanted to be the reason behind their smiles and laughter, not tears.

Packing your stuff and turning off the lights, you left the shop. The door was locked two times as usual before you hurried down the street towards the subway.  

The station was packed more than usual and you immediately regretted not listening to your friend’s advice on renting that one apartment down the block. But complaining right now wasn’t going to get you home.

You hopped on the train and shielded the bouquet with your arms wrapped around it as you tried not to get crushed by the swarm of people getting on the train. Once the doors closed, you had successfully managed to find a place by the train door with a little space so you could avoid getting the bouquet crushed.

Facing the doors, you stared out the small window, it was dark but every second or another a light would zoom in and out. You weren’t sure if they were there for navigating or not but you found yourself too focused on the lights as the sudden brake of the train made you stumble forward.

When you regained your balance to stand up straight, there was someone behind you. They were a little too close but it was nothing out of the ordinary, you always found yourself being pressed against other people during rush hours in the subway.

At the next stop, the doors on the opposite side opened and another swarm of people filled the train. Now, the person behind you was trapping you between their body and the door that was in front of you.

You were showing extra carefulness to not let the bouquet get crushed, you wanted to take it home in one piece without anything happening to it. These flowers were beautiful, they smelled amazing too. You wanted to cherish them even if you hadn’t managed to cherish Itadori’s feelings.

As you were inspecting the bouquet you saw a small card that was attached to one of the flowers. You checked it and realized what it was.

It was Itadori’s phone number and a cute little heart drawn next to it with a small message.

‘I’d love to hear more of your voice and complaints about work in private!!’

You didn’t realize you were smiling at the note until something brought you out of your trance.

A voice to be exact.

“Your lover got them to you?” A husky voice asked.

Lifting your head, you stared at the small window. From the almost transparent reflection on the window, you could see that the guy behind you had talked. You couldn’t see his face from his hoodie covering his features but you could tell that he was talking to you.

“Um, not really,” you replied. It wasn’t abnormal to you that other people made small talk to you, you talked to strangers more than anyone else every day. You always overshared anyway. “They are from a close friend.”

“He must love you.” There was an undeniable smile in his voice.

You forced a chuckle, looking down in front of you. “Y-yeah.”

When the train braked abruptly, he got closer. “Touch her-” It was a whisper from the same guy, you were unable to make out the words clearly but you decided to ignore him for the rest of the ride. You needed to get off in twenty minutes and were too tired to act friendly.

That was when you felt the back of his hand brushing against your ass.

You froze, before you could call it an accident and blame it on the crowded train, he pressed the back of his hand more purposefully on the soft flesh.

Fear paralyzed your body and you found yourself at a loss of words. You didn’t know what to do, you wanted to move away but you were trapped between him and the door.

“You’re not gonna ask for help?” he asked, leaning forward to mock you.

It was too humiliating and you were unable to think of anything. Somehow, you shook your head to tell him to stop because your voice wouldn’t come out. You pressed the bouquet harder against your chest in panic, praying to whoever was listening that the guy would stop.

You heard him say something but every other voice was muffled now, it was as if your ears were filled with cotton.

The only thing you did was to hope that you could muster up the courage to push him away and get out on the next stop.

Why was this happening to you?

Why?

“See, I told you.” Sukuna scoffed as Yuuji’s entire face was beet red. “She’s not even gonna ask for help because she wants you to continue.”

Yuuji saw your blushed cheeks in the reflection in the window, you were breathing heavily and standing still.

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

When Sukuna convinced him to follow you into the subway train and let him do the talking, he was conflicted because he wasn’t sure what the King of Curses wanted to prove but now, he knew.

“Women live to be conquered by men,” Sukuna concluded, “Do you understand it now or should I elaborate more?”

Yuuji was quiet.

“She’ll bend down and beg for you to fuck her right now if you continue touching her.”

You wouldn’t.

Right?

Using his whole hand, Yuuji groped your ass while trembling from dismay but he couldn’t forethought the way you reacted being anything other than screaming for help or pushing him away.

Instead of fighting back or doing anything he had thought you would, you mewled and stayed exactly where you were.

They were all right.

Fushiguro, Inumaki and Yuuta. They were all right.

Sukuna was more than right. He had been trying to help him but Yuuji was too blind to see it.

“Check her cunt, I bet she’s soaking wet.” Sukuna had said to mock his vessel. He didn’t expect for him to move his hand between your legs and under your skirt to press his fingers against your clothed pussy. Neither did you.

Letting out a squeal, you hunched forward, pressing your legs together in panic as his digits moved along your clothed slit that was completely damp.

He started rubbing his fingers between your folds, your juices soaked your panties and made sloppy sounds each time he moved his digits.

“I can hear it from here, did you wet yourself, or are you this wet for me?” Sukuna laughed audibly.

You shook your head, slouching further down and trying to move away from Yuuji’s hands.

“Women aren’t good liars,” Sukuna said as Yuuji slouched forward with you and pressed himself against your ass. “You’re aching to have a cock inside you, no?”

“Please,” you begged. You wanted him to stop.

“Oh, look, she’s asking so politely to be filled with a cock.” Sukuna made fun of your misery while watching the brat finally grow into a man.

Yuuji was sure Sukuna had taken over his body because he would never hump the girl he liked as he was fingering her over her clothes in a train. In public, he reminded himself, in a train and in public where nobody seemed to care.

His hands were moving on their own, he hooked a finger under the elastic edge of your panties to pull them to the side.

“W-wait, please,” you whispered in a weak voice, finally using a hand to grab his wrist to try to pull him away from your pussy. You weren’t strong or convincing enough though.

Yuuji slipped his fingers inside you and grinded his growing erection against your ass, earning a surprised moan out of you.

The hand that was grabbing his wrist immediately went to cover your mouth to suppress your voice as he started humping you to deliberately mimic fucking you.

“Please, stop…” Your voice was fainter than a whisper behind your hand.

“You say that but you’re pitifully trembling in anticipation.” His lips were brushing against the shell of your ear but it was as if he wasn’t using his mouth to talk.

“I’m not…” You pressed your legs together and trapped his hand between your thighs while he twirled his digits around inside you.  

“Lying isn’t cute, you know.” There was a smile in his deep voice, “Come on try harder to lie and make me believe you don’t want it.” He dragged his tongue along the shell of your ear, earning a surprised but muffled moan from you.

Yuuji brought his other hand up to cup your breast over your shirt, his cock was painfully hard against his jeans, and the knowledge of him touching his crush was too much for him to handle. He could cum in his pants if he wasn’t careful enough. Sukuna was saying the most vulgar things to you but instead of pushing him away, you were staying exactly where you were. It was fascinating to see how much you were begging to be touched.

It disturbed him a little, would you let any stranger touch you like this? Would you be this wet for anyone?

Yuuji didn’t want to know the answer but Sukuna did.

“Come on, be honest. Would you be this keen to be fucked by any man or is it because it’s me?” Sukuna asked, he was barely holding himself to switch with the brat, he loved corrupting innocent souls like you. He loved seeing the painful and pathetic cries they would let out as their faces were stained with tears.

You shook your head rapidly as his fingers inside you curled to rub a sweet spot you didn’t know existed.

“So, does that mean you wouldn’t want to be fucked by anyone but me?” Sukuna laughed while Yuuji let out a low groan, grinding harder against your ass, humping you roughly.

“N-nooo,” you were sobbing now, tears started running down your cheeks.

“Good girl… You’re finally being honest. You hear that? She would never want to be fucked by anyone but me.”

“T-that’s not what I meant…”

It was fun to tease girls like you. Sukuna could feel your fear and took incredible joy from hearing your voice crack. “Now, that’s cute… I wanna hear you cry out my name in your cute voice too.”

Yuuji groaned, shaking his head as if Sukuna was going to listen to him.

“S-Sukuna,” he mocked your crying. “Come on, say it just like that and beg for me to fuck you.”

Your body was shaking in fear, your cries only spurred him on and you didn’t know what to do. “P-please stop, S-Sukuna.” The way you whimpered his name, there was no way Sukuna could hold back.

“You better take her innocence before I do it myself, brat.” Sukuna was a man of his word, he had promised the brat to not touch you but if he didn’t man up and fucked you here, he would have no choice but to do it himself. He would never let a girl’s innocence go to waste. The blood of purity was something holy for curses like him. It was the nectar of the gods from the most ancient times, something that could only be attained by the perfect innocent virgins.

“Don’t you dare,” Yuuji spat, speaking for the first time. “She’s mine.”

You didn’t hear him though. His fingers were thrusting in and out of you vigorously while he was humping you and fondling your tit. Your walls clenched around his digits as he moved his hand on your chest between your bodies to impatiently pull the front of his pants down.

Realizing what was about to happen when he finally pulled his cock free and hiked your skirt up, you stared at your reflection on the window, crying and begging him to stop.

Yuuji froze momentarily, pulling his fingers out of you. He could see your expression in the window but you couldn’t see his face. He was stunned by seeing your cheeks wet with tears and mascara running down to ruin more of your makeup, it was… it was purely so erotic and better than his fantasies.

He slammed his hips forward and buried the entire length of his cock in your pussy.

Your virgin walls squeezed tightly around him and the sharp pain of your hymen being torn made fresh tears run down your cheeks. Your hand covering your mouth went to the door in front of you to keep your balance because of the ferocity of his thrust. Your lips parted to scream in pain but his fingers being shoved inside your mouth stopped you.

You tasted your bitter juices on his fingers as he twirled them around your tongue, catching the muscle between his knuckles.

Yuuji felt lightheaded by the fact that he was actually having sex with his crush, on top of all that, you were both each others’ first. He knew he was going to cherish this memory forever and even though he would have liked to do it in a bed with the lights off, this was fine too.

It didn’t matter where he was as long as he had his cock inside of you.

With a moan, he staggeringly pulled his hips back to abruptly slam into your pussy. The blood of your innocence acted as a lubricant, made it easier for him to slip inside, and made a sloppy sound each time he thrust inside.

You could feel his entire weight settle on your back while he nuzzled against the side of your neck before he shakily licked the sensitive skin to get a taste of you. Instinctively, you tried moving your head away from his mouth but his fingers in your mouth prevented you. To put it simply, you were trapped and were at his mercy.

He picked up a discreet but still desperate pace to fuck you, he was still cautious of the two of you being in public but he was still delirious to be having sex with you. Sex. Did it always feel this good? Were you feeling good too? You wanted it, he knew you did because you told Sukuna you wanted it.

Slamming his hips forward, he knocked the air out of your lungs, you gasped on his fingers, drooling all over yourself from having your mouth forcefully kept open by his long digits.

Yuuji was hopeless to mark his territory, to mark you as his. He wanted everyone to know that you belonged to someone when they looked at you. You were his and only his.

His cock grew bigger inside you at the thought of him owning you. He started fucking you frantically, no longer bothering if the people around had noticed or not. Your cunt tightened around his cock and you felt his teeth sink into the sensitive flesh of your neck. He bit hard, hard enough to draw blood and leave you trembling in numbing pain.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as the tip of his cock hit a sweet spot and your legs shook uncontrollably under you, they were struggling to carry your weight.

His teeth sank deeper into your flesh and you dropped the bouquet you were holding against your chest to involuntarily arch your back instead. He chewed on your skin as he felt your virgin walls pulsate around his cock, you were begging to be filled with his seed, weren’t you?

Women were nothing but a bunch of breeding holes anyway. They all acted like innocent angels when deep down they all were whores. Pleasure toys for men. They lived to please men, didn’t they?

You lived to please Yuuji, didn’t you?

Yuuji pulled his hand out from your mouth and stopped biting you. He licked the blood from your neck to focus on fucking you with frenzied thrusts instead. All of his inexperience and desperation were behind his thrusts, along with his entire weight, forcing you to take the very shape of his cock and never forget the girth of it.

Continuing to peppering small kisses on your neck, he started angling his hips just right to hit the spot that made your knees unbuckle. One, two, three thrusts, and your legs were a shaking mess. You moaned in response before he wrapped an arm around you to keep you up on your feet.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” Sukuna spoke suddenly, startling both of you. “You shouldn’t hold back anymore.”

Yuuji wasn't sure which one of you he was talking to but he kept on nodding and moving his hips.

“Nobody else is going to hear you, give me an honest answer,” Sukuna was chuckling. “How does it feel?”

How does it feel to be fucked?

How does it feel to be fucked on a train?

How does it feel to be fucked in public?

How does it feel to have your innocence taken away?

How does it feel to indulge the darker parts of your mind?

Yuuji’s hips stuttered when your walls clenched around him tightly as you refused to answer.

“I won’t know how it feels if you don’t tell me, (name).”

Your mouth popped open and you moaned upon hearing your name. How did he know your name?

As soon as he thrust into your pussy, you forgot about it and let out a moan.

Were you always this depraved?

He continued fucking you frantically. His pace was faster and more ruthless, he was close. With each thrust of his hips, he left you moaning in involuntary pleasure but there was no denying that it felt good.

It felt so good.

“Tell me, (name).”

It felt so good.

“Come on, tell me.”

“Please,” you begged. It feels so good. Feels so good.

“That’s not what I wanna hear,” Sukuna murmured. “Come on now.”

The automated voice announced the next stop.

“Hurry it up already.” He was getting impatient.

“It feels so good,” you whimpered, defeated.

“Good girl,” Sukuna grinned before disappearing from Yuuji’s cheek.

The shame overwhelmed all of your senses and you looked at your reflection in the window once more, you caught a glimpse of your aroused expression. You were such a whore.

Yuuji slammed his hips forward one last time and you felt the small twitch of his balls against your skin before his cock twitched, spurting thick ropes of cum inside you.

The train stopped and he pulled out of you.

His seed started gushing out of your pussy before starting to trickle down your legs. Most of the bodily fluid had pooled under you and when you fell hard on the ground, they soaked into your skirt.

The guy who assaulted you was nowhere to be seen as the doors of the train on the other side opened. Many people hopped off the train but nobody paid any attention to you and you were sure they had been oblivious to what had happened. Nobody would care anyway.

A sob tore out of you and you tried getting up. Your legs were like jelly but as you managed to stand up, you noticed the bouquet you had dropped. More tears started to come out, they blurred your vision and you found yourself grabbing it from the ground.

Thankfully, it wasn’t crushed.

The train doors closed and it started moving forward while you were trying to fix your skirt.

Ah, that was your stop…

You sobbed again but pressed a hand over your mouth to not disturb anyone. Your crying didn’t stop even after you got off of the train on the next stop. You wanted to call someone to help you get back home because you weren’t sure if you could make it alone. Your legs were hurt, the throbbing pain coming from between your legs wouldn’t let you walk or stand up.

You weren’t going to tell them what had happened. Nobody could know. You didn’t need their pity. You were too ashamed.

Sitting on a bench, you scrolled down your contacts but none of the names there would help you. Not unless they had something to gain from it. Wasn’t that why you dropped everything and moved here to open a coffee shop?

How pathetic of you.

People only used you for your kindness.

You shifted on your seat and something slipped out from the bouquet. When you picked it up, you noticed that it was the note Itadori had written for you.

There was an ugly pause before you dialed the unknown number and a familiar voice responded.

“Hey,” he sounded awkward. Of course, he would, you rejected him. “What’s up?”

“Itadori,” you whimpered, voice cracking. Immediately, you cursed yourself for being this pathetic.

“A-are you o-okay? W-what happened?”

Bursting into tears once again, you only told him that you only needed help in shame after clearing your throat.

It took him barely fifteen minutes to arrive at the station to get you. You wiped your tears as soon as he came into your view. He was breathless, face beet red from running.

“You okay?” he asked in between breaths. “I ran here as fast as I could.”

He ran here.

Has anyone cared for you this much?

“Yeah, thank you and ahh, I… This is embarrassing… I twisted my ankle and needed help getting home.” You were never a good liar but you hoped he was gullible enough to believe it. “I know it’s weird to call you here but none of my friends would come if I called-”

“Ah, it’s no problem!” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and chuckled. He had been worried for nothing. “I can carry you, that’s what friends are for, right?!”

You nodded and bit your lip to prevent yourself from crying. He was too kind. Too similar to you.

“Want me to carry you on my back? Or like this?” He emphasized his words by holding his hands in front of himself to show you that he was offering to carry you bridal style.

“Yeah, that would be better.” You masked the shame with a fake smile. You were embarrassed that you were pathetic to ask him for help even after you rejected him earlier tonight.

He smiled and took a step closer towards the bench. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he slid his arm under the back of your knees and placed a hand on your back to support you as he lifted you up to take you home.

You were grateful that you had a friend like him in your life.

~~~

The next day Yuuji came to the coffee shop to take your offer from the last night about giving him a free coffee drink of his choice. 

You served him his coffee with a smile and sat with him on one of the tables, talking about your day as he listened to you complain. 

In the end, Sukuna was right, Yuuji realized. 

Women were begging to be fucked. Women secretly wanted it and that was why you were acting indifferent after all that happened the day before.

He had been worried over nothing, besides, he needed to be more confident and assertive like everyone told him to be. Then he would get the girl. That was what every article he read online, all of his friends and people around him told him. That was what Sukuna told him.

“Wanna go get dinner after you close the place?” he asked, taking a mouthful of his coffee.

“I need to clean and it might take a long while-”

“I’ll help,” he replied, smiling. “Everything’s on me.”

How could you say no to that? How could you say no to anything he had to say?

In your eyes, he was the nicest guy in the world.

Were you really going to pass on the opportunity to have him in your life?

“It’s a date then?” You were grinning, cheeks flushing as you said it. Slowly, you placed your hand over his on the table.

Yuuji gave you a blank stare, something sinister sparkled deep within his eyes but you couldn’t see it. Unbeknownst to you, his other hand under the table had a mouth on it that had an unsettling grin on it too. It was funny how clueless you were. Nonetheless, Yuuji took your hand in his to give you a reassuring squeeze and made you blush harder before agreeing, “It’s a date.”

[hotwings0203]

as ur irl bestie i am cashing in my favor and am asking- no begging for a dilf damon fic pls <3

😑fine fineee I guess I can take a quick break from writing BNHA stuff for you🙄

CW: NSFW, Damon Albarn being an a-hole, manipulation, gaslighting, language minor stuff like that

The studio itself was pretty spacious, you couldn't lie. As much as you loathed to give this cursed group any more credit, you were hard-pressed to remember the last time you´d been called into such a professional recording booth. You were used to dingy atmospheres, crumbling walls, stained carpet, and even cramped garages at times. It felt like your years of meticulously swaying your hand back and forth on the rosin and tuning your strings until they damn near popped were slowly going down the drain, lost in spaces of screaming adolescent boys and shady market agents. The streets of London were unforgiving for a young musician like you, no room to turn to since others were exactly in the same position as you.

 It was by pure coincidence that the day you had played for a local cafe for a small commission, Graham fucking Coxon was sitting in the back of the run-down joint, sipping a murky glass of Bourbon.

 You didn't notice him at first, of course. You had simply let the music in your mind travel from your head down to your arms, and allowed it to move through your fingertips to your bow. The serene melody that sang through the air had turned his head to face you, the shitty drink in his hand stopped halfway to his mouth. 

 Your solo was only a couple of minutes, but the second you were done and packing your bags to head out, the brunette made a beeline for you, blocking your exit.

 ¨Uh, can I help you?¨ You cock your head and shift your violin case.

 ¨Yes, you can actually. Listen, I know this is gonna sound a bit straightforward, but I really liked your piece. Did you compose it yourself?¨ He sounds quiet and sounds nervous, with him barely looking you in the eyes.

 ¨Yeah, I did!¨ You can´t help but beam-it took you several days just to perfect a few meager lines, but in the end you were content with the piece.

 ¨Wow...that's serious talent right there,¨ He opens the door for you, and you nod before you head out, him trailing behind you as he leaves with you.

 ¨You make a good amount of money doing small jobs like this?¨ His voice is nasally and low, but with a slightly higher pitch than your typical London accent.

 At this, you squint your eyes a bit and turn your head at him. It was nice of him to be interested in your work, but for someone you don't personally know, the idea of talking about your small gigs that merited little to no money was not something you were fond of.

 He senses your hesitancy and immediately withdraws. ¨I´m sorry, that was probably rude of me to be so blunt about it. Actually, I don´t think I´ve properly introduced myself.¨ He stops to face you, and you do the same.

 ¨I´m Graham Coxon. You may or may not have heard of me, but I can assure you that I too enjoy music, as an understatement.¨ He extends a calloused hand and smiles a little bit, adjusting the blocky glasses on his face.

 Graham...Coxon? Graham as in....oh, holy shit.

 ¨No way.¨

 ¨Er...unfortunately, yes way.¨ His soft voice lilts as he holds back a laugh, and you gape at him.

 ¨Oh my god!¨ You drop your violin case in the excitement of eagerly returning his handshake. ¨You-you're from Blur! I know you!¨

 ¨Was from Blur, and ´careful now, don´t wanna ruin your instrument. But listen, I´m kind of in a bind here so I´ll get to the chase. We´re working on a few chords here and there back at the studio, and I´ve been on the lookout for a while for someone who fits our tune. ´Thing is, the deadline for submitting our song is comin´ up fast, so we only have a couple weeks left.¨

 You raise your eyebrows, heart pounding in your chest as you listen to his proposition.

 ¨So I´m thinking, you sound pretty good, it's exactly what we need to fill in our bridge. I´d love it if you came in and played a tune for us. If we like you and you´re cool with it, you could feature on our song.¨

 It feels surreal. Were you hearing right? Graham Coxon from Blur asking you to play on his song? This had to be a prank.

 ¨Ẅait, but you've only heard me once, what if my sound doesn't match what you're actually looking for?¨ You stammer, palms clammy as you wipe them off on your trousers.

 ¨Well, that's what a rehearsal session is for, lovely,¨ He chuckles nervously and slides his slightly foggy glasses up his nose. ¨So, you wanna give it a go?¨

 You think for a moment, biting your lower lip. There wasn't exactly anything stopping you now, was there? I mean, sure, the prospect of playing in front of one of UK's most famous bands was daunting, but this was your chance to finally be recognized!

 Taking a deep breath, you pick up your fallen case and nod. ¨Alright, I´m in. When you do wanna meet up?¨

 Graham visibility deflates in relief, letting out a shaky exhale. ¨Great. I'll text you the time and place, yeah? The boys and I´ve gotta get a few more things set up, so we´ll be in contact soon.¨

You both exchange numbers, your phone tingling in your hand long after you bid farewell and drive home in a buzz.

 When you finally get home to your apartment, you throw your keys onto the counter and flop down onto the mattress. What a fucking day.

 So many thoughts bounce around in your addled head. You want to do well, but obviously you don't have their kind of experience in the industry. Should you play more in tune with their song, or continue with your own sound? An idea pops into your head amidst your lunch, a few hours later. Why not just do some more research on the band themselves? Then you'd know exactly what kind of music they're looking for.

 The boys and I´ve gotta get a few more things set up.

 Oh yeah, who else was in the band? It's not like you didn't know who Blur was at their peak, but you paid more attention to their music rather than their faces. Truthfully, you never really basked in tabloids and newspapers purring about the next big scandal, or the top dogs of Britain´s industry when that stuff was relevant.

 You abandon your pathetic sandwich and make your way to your laptop, sliding into a chair and getting down to business. After a few quick searches, you pull up a couple tabs around the name Blur.

 Graham Coxon- Recovering alcoholic. Big fight with Damon Albarn.

 Alex James- Cute boy turned conservative. Classic case.

 Dave Rowntree- Mainly untouched. Became a successful lawyer. Good for him.

 Damon Albarn- A fucking mess.

 Puffing up your cheeks and putting your hands behind your head, you lean back in your chair. Good god, this man is a wreck. Headlines from decades ago swim in and out of your eyes, loud, obnoxious neon prints of Justine and Damon broken up again? Suede claps back!, or Will the Blur Brothers ever come back to each other? Find out first-hand from Coxon himself!, and worst of all, Albarn relapses again, Damon Albarn from Blur goes head-to-head with Liam and Noel-news flash, the brothers win!

 You think you see something about him and a potential wife and child, and that's when you decide it's time to sleep.

 After all, there's no point in getting caught up in any of their backstories.You were just there to play a solo and get out. Nosing around in their lives was more trouble than what it was worth, anyways.

 Which is exactly what you kept trying to tell yourself as you walked into the modern studio two weeks later, its grey soundproof walls and white floor screaming fancy and rich to you. And fancy and rich didn't come without grit and experience, which you had none of. As if to emphasize your inexperience, you went into the wrong halls twice before you exasperatedly checked your messages with Graham and saw that no, it wasn´t room 311, it was room 113.

 Finally, finally, you came across your designated room. The mahogany door was closed, and you placed a hand on the silver knob. You could faintly hear the sounds of a guitar being played from the inside, and it was curiosity above everything else that compelled you to push it open.

 From behind the clear window that separated the booth from the recording area, you see them. Graham, Damon, and other men you don't recognize are all in the midst of the song, the same song Graham had texted you the PDF of for the violin notes. You sheepishly take a few steps forward and clear your throat to catch the attention of a bald man leaning back against his chair right in front of the glass. He turns around and you give a weak little wave, clutching your case in the other hand. 

 ¨Hey, I´m here for-¨

 ¨-Yeah, yeah, Graham told me all about you. Go on ahead and join in, they just started.¨ He pulls a toothpick out from between his lips and gestures to the door of the divider.

 You feel your heart pounding in your chest as you make your way through the second door, and the second you step inside meekly, Damon and Graham´s eyes are on you.

 Graham continues to play the guitar, only lighting up his eyes and giving you an encouraging nod when you step in, and the other two men on bass and saxophone also give a quick smile in greeting. And Damon…well.

 Damon barely acknowledges you.

 He continues to sing and stare straight ahead at the wall in front of him as if there's an interesting scene being played out on the grey paint.

 You´re unsure of whether to catch his attention and give a proper greeting, but you decide not to as it would interfere with the song. So instead, you quickly grab a nearby chair and stand and set up your rosin and papers.

 Your timing is perfect; the bridge is about to come up. Just to be certain, you look up from your poised position and catch the eyes of most everyone except for Damon´s. They all give you a quick thumbs up or an expectant look for your confirmation of playing.

 And then, it comes. Damon stops singing, and your cue to sweep your bow across the horse hairs of your strings comes.

 Melodious, whole, fulfilling, it was. Graham´s guitar chords harmonized with the tones of your violin, and music that you´ve never dreamed of creating was made by your hands exceptionally. 

 Everyone was in awe of your raw talent, from the way their gazes were rapt onto your bow, moving back and forth,staying still in some highs and whittling away at the lows. You even thought you saw the producer from inside the booth turn his head towards you from the corner of your eye, but you couldn´ be sure.

 Everyone except Damon Albarn.

 The song ended a minute later with the signal of a fading out bass, and then there was silence.

 ¨Right on with that tune.. ´Thought we'd be fucked ova´ if we didn't find someone to take that melody.¨ The bassist with long shaggy hair grinned and you returned one back.

 ¨Yeah, I was kind of hesitant when Graham ´ere told us he found one to take this position on, but I'm pleased.¨ The saxophone player scratched his chin and hummed his agreement. You felt relief.

 Until he spoke.

 ¨Is this your first time playing?¨

 You look incredulously over at him, looking straight on at his face. Sandy hair, lines on his cheeks, slight scruff around his chin, he looked older than his online pictures. 

 ¨Uhh, no?¨ You laugh a little, trying to keep the annoyance out of your voice. ¨If I was, I doubt Graham would think I´m good enough to play with you guys.¨

 ¨I don't think Graham is the only one who needs to think that.¨ Everyone shifts uncomfortably, looking nervously from Damon to you, and Graham tugs his collar as if the temperature had gone up.

 But nonetheless, you don't back down.

 ¨Oh yeah? How so?¨

¨You played the G-string too high,¨ He deadpans, looking utterly bored amidst oceanic hues.

 ¨What?¨ You flip your music pages a couple of times until you find the page where you played that part. ¨No I didn´t, I was right on tune-do you even know how to play the violin?¨

 ¨No,¨ he smirks, and with your blood boiling steadily you open your mouth to argue, but thankfully Graham butts in.

 ¨Damon, don´t be a prick, she played fine. Unlike you, who fucked up on the 5th verse.¨

 The man in question lazily stretches his arms above his head, causing his white tee to rise a few inches over his belly button. You can´t help but glance at the skin-it's smooth, cleanly chiseled with part of his v-line showing, a happy trail rising from the juncture.

 ¨Oi, sweetheart, eyes up here.¨

 You snap your gaze back to his smug face, cheeks burning.

 ¨I didn´t-¨

 ¨Sure you didn´t. Just like how I didn't mess up on the 5th verse, and how you didn't ruin the song with your shitty violin, yeah?¨ He simpers, and you almost rise out of your seat to snarl at him before Graham jumps in between you two, scolding a very inappropriately-grinning Damon.

 You get up out of your chair and huff, shoving your belongings back into your bag as everyone else packs up, the men bickering and playfully throwing shit at each other.

 The producer even congratulates you on your successful first day, and everyone cheers and pounds you on your back, your hair falling in your face and gracefully hiding your 120k watt smile.

 Damon shoulders right past you, knocking your case right out of your hands. You grapple with it for a second before it hits the ground, and when it does you whip around and shoot him an icy glare.

 He's not even looking at you, he's already out the door.

 It's quiet for a moment.

 ¨Well, there he goes again being a dickhead. Classic Damon, you got.¨ The saxophone player points to the leaving blond and grins sheepishly at you.

 ¨What's his problem?¨ You ask in disgust, shaking your head as you join the rest of the boys leaving.

¨Uh, well...¨ Graham scratches the back of his head and avoids looking at you. ¨He's always been kind of like that, y´know, so don't take it too personally, but between just us four, his wife´s been on his arse for a bit about um...some...domestic affairs.¨ He finishes lamely, and the other two men guffaw at your raised eyebrow.

 You don't have a chance to press further as to ask what domestic affairs, exactly because a loud clap of thunder shakes you all to your cores as you step outside.

 ¨Aw, come on!¨ You stamp your foot and hold out your hand for confirmation of the raindrops about to drop on you all. ¨I didn't know it was gonna rain today,¨ you grumble.

 Graham squints up at the sky and wipes some droplets off his blurred glasses, covering his head with his jacket hood as he begins walking to the parking garage. ¨I´ll see you lot in about a week, yeah? Just keep practicing, good rehearsal we had today!¨ He waves his hand and dashes off.

 ¨Good job on your first day, Y/N. Fancy the weather on your walk back for us!¨ The sax and bass player bid farewell and also do a sprint to their respective cars, splashing through the puddles and sending muddy water on your pants.

 ¨Urgh!¨ You raise your hands to try and protect your bottoms but to no avail- London's sewage strikes again.

 Sighing in defeat, you walk through the rain towards your car, succumbing to the grimy walk. Unfortunately you didn't think to use the parking garage due to high nerves when you first came in.

 You walk for about 5 minutes, the rain drenching your hair and clothes and chilling you to your bones.

 Could this day get any more annoying?

Oh, but you should´ve known that it could.

 Because right at that moment, a black limo swerves right next to you on the sidewalk, sending a massive wave of gutter water right your way.

 You swear loudly and jump back, barely managing to avoid the remnants of the sewage tsunami crossing your feet.

 Looking up wildly at the offensive vehicle, you make a fist and flip the window off, your lip curled up into a snarl.

 The obsidian glass rolls down.

 ¨Well that's not very nice, is it? Nasty weather we got going on right now, careful it doesn't get on your clothes.¨

 Oh.

 ¨It's you,¨ you monotone, less than pleased to see his salacious grin at your predicament-which was being soaked to your undergarments in brown muddy water, your hair clinging to your face and your violin case lugging down towards the ground, its weight proving mutiny against you today of all days.

 ¨In the flesh,¨ Damon beams, and you scowl at his cheery attitude.

 ¨You almost drowned me, asshole,¨ You turn your nose up in scorn, and he chuckles in his baritone voice.

 ¨Nah, cant´ve love, I can't drive,¨ he clicks his tongue and jerks his thumb to the seat in front of him, where you assume his chauffeur is.

 ¨Oh, so it was under your orders that your poor driver practically waterboarded me?¨ ¨Well, yeah, I mean what else do you expect me to do when I see a pretty lady walking so harmlessly in the rain?¨ Your voice catches in your throat for a second from his words and the way his glacial eyes twinkle for a moment, but then he erupts in dry chuckles at your demeanor and you throttle your hesitancy at speaking.

 ¨Shut up, you're absolutely vile, y´know that?¨ ¨So I´ve been told, but to be honest sweetheart, I´d rather hear that in bed, where I´m used to hearing it. Now are you going to get in or shall I talk about my sexual prowess with you the rest of the afternoon?¨ He opens his door from the inside and mockingly winks at you.

 You feign a gag, but still decide to jump in the spacious limo when a flash of lightning lights up the sky. 

 He scoots back to give you space to sit and adjust your violin case on the seats in front of you, but just as you´re about to close the door, he leans in right next to you and reaches behind you to pull it shut himself.

 You´re caught still as he draws close, you´re extended hand frozen in midair as his arm against your back flexes and stiffens with it pulling the door. You can feel his breath against your neck as he exhales, can feel some of his hair tickling against your ear and cheek. You hold your breath, not daring to move lest you accidentally brush up against his proximity.

 The loud slam of the door causes you to jump, and he laughs a little at that, signaling his driver to go.

 You don't quite face him, your gaze down in your lap as his entire body is facing you, still stuck in its position when he was closing the car door.

 ¨Not nervous, are you?¨ He murmurs in your ear, and you can´t help it when your whole body shivers at feeling the rumble in his gravelly voice.

 ¨N-no, I´m not. Do you have to be so close?¨ You stammer, barely giving him a sideways glance which eggs him on, much to your displeasure.

 ¨Not really. But if you´re not nervous, then it shouldn't be a problem, right?¨ He says quietly and leans around to catch your eye.

 Before you can lose your nerve and jump out of the car, you snap at him. ¨You just don´t quit, do you?¨ 

 He finally relents and the side of his pink lips lift lazily as he stretches his knees out and practically manspreads across the expanse of three seats. ¨Nope. Not that you really were against it though, ´could feel your heart pounding a mile a minute sweetheart. Trust me, I´m used to making girls nervous, I would know.¨

 You sneer at him. ¨Don´t call me sweetheart, and yeah, I was nervous about getting some disease-ridden prick like you getting close to me. God knows how many STD´s you've contracted from bedding some poor groupies.¨

¨Only one way to find out, right love?¨ He leans his head up to the car ceiling and lets his tousled golden hair flop back, his jawline accentuated by the cream-colored seats contrasting with his tan skin.

 You catch yourself staring, and shake your head quickly.

 ¨You must´ve been more hopped up on heroine than I thought if you think I´d ever fuck a self-absorbed, narcissitic bastard like you.¨

 The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, but once they do your eyes widen and you clap a hand over your mouth in horror.

 Damon lifts his head and slowly turns to face you, his mouth set in a thin line.

 ¨A self-absorbed, narcissistic bastard whose limo you're riding in, need I remind you, so I can´t be all that bad. ´Can't say I haven't heard any of that before love, but most girls who say that end up in my bed anyways.¨

 You open your mouth to argue but he cuts you off.

 ¨Although, ´hopped up on heroin´ is a new one. Just exactly how much research have you done about me so far?¨

 Your rebuttal dies in your throat. You were caught.

 Your ears burn and your face flushes as you bite your lip in embarrassment. Maybe you went too far, and on top of that you let it slip that you knew about him beforehand.

 But you refuse to kowtow in humiliation to this idiot, so you think quickly.

 ¨I doubt you´ve got your head that far up your ass to disregard how half the world was tuning into your personal life when Blur was big, Damon.¨

He looks unimpressed with your excuse, but before he can open his mouth to question you further, you hurry up with another save.

 ¨Also, where are we going? You never asked me where my car was.¨

Bingo His eyes brighten and he shouts at the driver, harping on about him being a brain-dead idiot for driving in circles the past 10 minutes.

 What a save.

 *******************

The moment you step into the booth next week, a drumstick is lobbed at you from seemingly nowhere. You yelp and hold your case up, blocking the weapon as it bounces off your makeshift shield. You bring the case down and shoot a glare towards the only man you know capable of acting so childishly at his grown age.

 But he´s already scrolling through his phone, looking for a measure to start from.

 ¨You´re late.¨

 ¨Hardly,¨ you mutter, glancing at the clock on the wall. Two minutes past shouldn´t be an excuse for having a drumstick pick out your eye.

 ¨Good to see you again, Y/N,¨ Graham pipes up softly, sending you an apologetic glance from Damon to you and you stick out your tongue in faux annoyance. 

 The other two members of your group greet you as well, and you all begin practice. Notes begin harmonizing together, voice and sound coinciding to make music you´ve swayed your hips and nodded your head to on blue nights.

 It´s a hot day, humidity clinging to your skin akin to the perspiration hanging off your forehead, and halfway through the song you decide to take off your sweater. You´re wearing a white tank top underneath, nothing too revealing save for the slight dip in the V-neck, but you couldn't care less about modesty at the moment when your fingers were literally slipping in their grasp on your sweat-slicked bow.

 During a quick break in your part of the song, you slip off your sweater and fan yourself out. It feels good, but you feel a pair of eyes staring at you. Following the laser gaze, you turn your head to face Damon, but he´s nose-deep in the lyrics sheet, warbling about a broken love or friendship. 

 Huh, must´ve been imagining it.

 Your solo comes up, and you prepare yourself for tackling the notes to your best ability, keeping up with Graham´s rapid guitar pace. Sweat continues to build on everyone´s vicinity when the rapid movement of arms waving around their own instrument causes more body heat to suffocate you all.

 Miraculously, the song finishes, and you collapse in your seat like the rest of the men, panting and wiping slick off your foreheads. You reach for a bottle of water on the floor and unscrew the lid, grimacing at its lukewarm temperature but drinking it nonetheless.

 For the second time, you have an unnerving feeling of being watched. This time, you whip your head to the side and catch him staring straight at you. 

 Damon´s face is flushed, his hair tousled, his rose colored glasses steamed up from the muggy aura in the room. His denim jacket is hanging off one shoulder, the rest of his torso covered with a sheer wife beater that accentuates his chiseled dad-body.

But he just stares you down, saying nothing. You frown at him a little bit and shift your body away from him, feeling vulnerable to his laser-gaze. His eyes darken, but Graham speaks, cutting him off from whatever he was about to say.

 ¨That was pretty good, you lot. Greg, Taz, hold off on the third beat of the fourth measure. We´ve gotta crescendo slightly-¨

 ¨Y/N, do you have a job?¨

 Damon's voice cuts off Graham, and everyone falters as they look at him and then you in surprise.

 ¨I don´t know what you mean,¨ you respond coolly, knowing that whatever he was about to say wasn't good.

 ¨I mean, do you have a job? Because as far as I know, most people who work don't dress like whores at their job.¨

 His eyes travel from your face down to your slight cleavage, and you sputter in rage as the rest of the boys shift uncomfortably.

 ¨Damon, for god's sake what´re you on about?¨ Graham asks wearily, taking his glasses off and rubbing his shiny neck.

 ¨I could ask you the same thing, actually. Because as far as I know, you've fucked enough women in your lifetime that one would think you could keep it in your pants for five minutes without acting like a twelve-year-old. Oh, but unless that´s too professional for you? I guess you´re not as serious about your work environment as you claim.¨ you laugh, and the sax player, Greg, snorts into his water bottle.

 Damon sneers, ¨How could I forget, you actually have done your research about my life and sexual endeavors, what a cute little fangirl you are. If you wanted an autograph, you could've just asked, sweetheart.¨

 ¨Go fuck yourself,¨ you snap. ¨You´re all wearing wife-beaters anyways, what's the difference?¨

 Damon starts again but Graham claps his hands loudly, startling you all.

 ¨Enough, both of you! What's gotten into you? Need I remind you that our song is due in less than two weeks? We need to finish this shit and get on with it. Stop acting like children.¨

 You mumble under your breath and Damon shoots a dark look to his childhood friend, but the brunette doesn't back down, and continues to give advice on how to improve their song. You don´t look at Damon the rest of the session out of pure spite, but that doesn't stop him from shamelessly staring straight at you, right until it's time to leave.

 The second Graham checks his watch and exclaims that it's a quarter past twelve already, you´re already bolting out of your seat and shoving your violin in its case, eager to get out of the disgustingly hot room.

 Fortunately, this time you had the right idea to park in the garage like everyone else to avoid any other unwanted encounters, but unfortunately while it was nice to not be waterboarded on your walk, it wasn´t enough to stop said unwanted encounters from occurring.

 Take right now, for instance.

 As you stumble to your car in the blistering weather, your energy depletes faster and faster, causing you to be light headed. Practice was already tough enough in the sweltering heat, but after Damon's little scene you don't have any energy to even walk.

 You crash blindly into your car, the metal of the doors burning your skin as you make contact with the handle. You hiss and jerk back, swaying slightly as your head fogs up. You can barely see, you feel like your clothes weigh a ton on you, so you slide down the vehicle and sit up against the tires, throwing your head back against the car and groaning. The idea of unlocking your doors and sitting in the seat where no doubt several temperatures higher will be settling on the dashboard and in the front row is nauseating.

 Weather-2

You-0

 You don't know the building well enough to know where a vending machine is, and even if you shot Graham a text, you don't have enough energy to wander around and scout for it.

 And lo and behold, from a distance, a figure approaches. You squint as it draws nearer, and let out a laugh as the features come into familiarity.

 The heat must be getting to you worse than you thought, because you´re certain you´re hallucinating Damon Albarn of all fucking people swaggering towards you, one hand holding his denim jacket over his shoulder, and a shit-eating grin on his face as he comes to stand in front of you.

 All you can do is pant like a dog, looking up at him with unimpressed eyes.

 ¨Oi, G-String. ´Brought you some water.¨ he holds out a hand, and you choose to ignore the offensive nickname, insead noticing the large bottle in it, cold condensation covering its expanse.

 Your eyes widen and you lick your lips unconsciously, holding your hands out for it.

 Damon watches your tongue poke out and loses focus before snapping back to reality and moving his arm above your head. You pout and try to reach for it again, but he laughs and holds it even higher.

 You glare and turn your head away from him, suddenly remembering how he embarrassed you earlier. 

 ¨Go away. I don't want it anymore. You´re an asshole.¨ you mumble, perspiration hanging off your lip as you lick the salty beads away once again.

 Damon´s eyes never leave your mouth as he listens to you and watches the pink appendage make its appearance again, and his mouth hangs open slightly unbeknownst to you for a second. You cross your arms and glare at the empty parking lot, silently willing him to go away.

 He snaps back into focus yet again and shakes his head at you. ¨Oh come on love, I´m just teasing. You look like you´re about to die anyways, might as well make this your last meal-er, drink I mean.¨

 ¨I´m not taking anything from a complete dickhead who enjoys harassing women about their clothes. You know, for such a womanizer, you act pretty clueless about how comments like that would make a girl feel. No one else but you had an issue with it, or rather, had the audacity to point it out.¨ You cough at the last word, your dry throat and heavy head making it harder to talk.

 He sighs and crouches down, balancing on the balls of his feet. He pops open the cap and gently turns your chin towards his face, much to your surprise. You´re genuinely too weak to protest, but when you look at his concerned face, eyebrows scrunched up and accentuating the lines on his forehead, you don't think you'd want to turn away even if you could.

 He coaxes your agap mouth even more open by dragging a rough thumb down over your lips, and you obediently open your mouth, mesmerized by his eyes. His movements are soft and slow, as if you were a fidgety rabbit about to run off at the slightest touch. He scoots closer, right over in front of you as you simply gaze up at him, allowing him to pour cool water down your throat, quenching your bone-dry palate.

 For a couple of seconds, water floods your mouth but all you can do is stare up at him. The light rays are reflecting off his back, casting a yellow glow around his silhouette and he almost looks like an angel. His hair is mussed as if he'd spent the day running his hands through the golden locks, and the scruff on his face peeks through soft-looking skin.

 ¨Swallow, or I'll really waterboard you this time,¨ he says lowly, chuckling a bit as he catches you staring so adamantly right in his face. You jerk back to consciousness and swallow hastily, accidentally choking on the gulp in your rush.

 He laughs even more and lets go of your chin much to your disappointment as he adjusts himself to sit next to you, not seeming to mind the scorching car metal. The absence of his hand on your face leaves a cold, empty feeling in your heart despite the heated blush on your cheeks

 ¨You´ll burn yourself,¨ you mumble, lolling your head over to look at him.

 But he looks straight ahead and shrugs casually. ¨Not any more than you.¨ You both sit in silence for a few minutes, occasionally sipping from the bottle he passes towards you and watching cars go by.

 ¨You didn't answer my question. Why do you harp on me in the studio? You act like a normal human being here.¨

 Damon looks thoughtfully at a white sedan passing by, then speaks.

 ¨As I´m sure Graham has blabbed to you already, I´ve been having some...trouble with the missus, let's say.¨

 You say nothing and raise a questioning eyebrow.

 ¨For the shitty attitude,¨ he mutters and swipes the bottle from your hand, taking a large swig himself.

 ¨And, like you said earlier, I am an asshole. Of course I´ll enjoy harassing pretty women over their revealing clothes,¨ he smirks and gives you a once over.

 There it was again, pretty woman.

 You scowl and get up to leave, but what he says stops you in your tracks.

 ¨Taz was lookin´ at you,¨ he says quietly, suddenly very interested in the now-empty bottle. ¨´Didn't like it, but I couldn't say anything to him. Graham likes him too much.¨

 Huh. Maybe the pair of eyes you felt back in the room didn't only belong to Damon.

 He cracks a small smile and looks up at you, his face adorably innocent and wide as he sheepishly admits, ¨I´m used to butting heads with blokes like him for women.¨

 You jerk back up to your feet, brushing off any insinuation he was giving and pat his knee awkwardly, ignoring the fire now igniting once again in your chest.

 ¨Thanks for the water, I needed it. You might wanna move if you don't want to get run over by my car.¨ You reach down and pick up your case as Damon clambers to his feet.

 He looks amused as you fumble for your keys, nervously turning the lock and sitting in the hot car, obviously eager to get away from his intimidating gaze.

 ¨I´ll see you next week, yeah?¨ You laugh breathlessly and roll your window down to call out to him.

 He says nothing, but merely cocks his head at you, his eyes now obscured by the rose-colored glasses he puts over his eyes. He waves a little and watches as you drive away a little too fast.

 But as it turns out, you don't see him next week.

 ******

It was just your luck that one of the cutest guys from your work asked you out on the very same week you had practice with the boys. You contemplated moving the date to another time, but...you deserved to have some fun time off too, right? It's not like it would make too much of a difference in your skill, anyways, you´ve gotten all the strings down and such.

 So, you decide to go on this date. It goes well, the dude was cute, dorky, lacked a little pizzazz but nothing a bottle of fancy red wine and a night of movies couldn´t coax out of him. It honestly wasn't anything too big, you exchanged numbers and made plans to meet up again soon. After parting ways, you threw yourself back into the regular regime of practicing your violin and meticulously listening to the booth recording every night, just so you could perfect your part to a T.

 The day came where you had to go back to practice, and you were ready, veins pumping with determination to make these last few sessions the best you´ve played yet. You texted Graham that you´d be there soon, and he gave you a thumbs up in return. When you finally arrived in front of the room, you were 10 minutes late. The boys were already playing, by the sound of the percussion booming outside the door. You grimace and take a deep breath, turning the handle in and hurrying inside the booth.

 No one really spared a glance at you, so you assumed you were okay in terms of punctuality. You opened your case and started strumming your strings, counting the measures and beats until it was your turn. Damon´s voice rang out, melodious and airy as ever, dropping octaves and floating on soprano tones. Your bow moved across his words, accenting his tones and adding emphasis to his sorrowful song. And then, after a couple of minutes, it was done.

 ¨Alright you lot, pretty good for today. ´Specially you, Y/N, you caught up pretty quick, I expected you to slack behind but I'm actually impressed.¨ Graham flashed you a nervous grin and you beamed back at him in return.

 ¨Yeah, speaking of, why were you gone last week? I expected someone who makes below the poverty line would actually want to work for their money,¨ Damon chuckles a little meanly.

 You feel your smile drop a smidge.

 ¨Well actually Damon, not that it's any of your business, but I went on a date.¨ You smirk at him, enjoying the way his mouth opens slightly and moves silently.

 But he regroups quickly and glares at you. ¨None of my business? The deadline is only a few days away, and you´re whoring yourself out and going on dates? I guess you´re not as professional as Graham thought.¨

 Everyone shifts uncomfortably, and blood rushes to your face, anger clouding your mind. Why was he being like this? He was fine the last time you saw him, you actually thought maybe he was going to change the way he addressed you.

  Graham speaks up. ¨Damon. You´re overreacting man, I gave her the okay, and she played fine today. No harm done, seriously, there's no need for that kind of language towards her.¨

 ¨Actually, there absolutely is a need. If I knew you were going to invite a prostitute as our sub-in then I would´ve never agreed to have her here. Didn´t know you were so low on money Y/N, I would´ve spared you a couple pounds.¨ He sneers.

 ¨Damon!¨

 You laugh bitterly and rise to your feet. ¨Oh that's rich, coming from the man who fucked half the continent just because he couldn't get over one girl. No wonder every real woman in your life including your wife wants to leave, nothing is ever good enough for you. Except heroin maybe.¨

 The words leave your mouth before you can take them back, and there's a pin drop silence as if a bomb had been dropped. In a way, it kind of did.

 Damo glares at you. Everyone is holding your breath, including you.

 ¨Get out.¨

 ¨Hey,-¨ Taz tries to gently interject but Damon throws the mic at him. 

 ¨I said get the fuck out. You´re not practicing with us anymore, you can pack your shit and leave.¨

 Tears brim at the corners of your eyes, and you choke out a small ¨Fine.¨

 You hear Graham berating him behind you as you fly through the door, telling him that they need you, it's too late to change people, but the words jumble in your ears as the door slams shut. You don't hear what Damon says, if he even says anything, and you aren't interested in his comebacks right now.

 It's only when you leave the car, tears streaming down your face in rage and embarrassment that you groan to yourself, your hands reaching an empty seat with one foot out the door-

You forgot your violin case.

 ************

 It's nighttime.

 The crickets chirp as you creep silently through the parking garage, the soft thud of your shoes echoing a lot louder than you wanted in the empty lot. The studio itself wasn't closed, but you were sure Damon must have informed the manager there not to let an ex-musician like you back in there.

 Wearing a black hoodie and black pants was a smart move- you blended in with the shadows well. The doors weren't locked, and you hiss out a small ¨yesss¨ as you slip inside the mostly dark building. Needless to say, you were proud of yourself for navigating through the windings pitch-black hallways to your old booth.

 Testing the handle lightly, you sigh out in relief when that too gives way. Unfortunately though, the second the door shuts behind you, you immediately stumble forward and fall. 

 The room is dark, darker than the other hallways so you can barely see your hands. The only source of light you´re granted is the dim red bulb on top of the booth door. And speaking of, that's exactly where you need to go...which proves to be harder when you keep bumping into random shit and cursing when you feel potential bruises forming on your shins.

 Miraculously you stagger through the next door towards where you last sat, and blindly feel around the floor and chairs for your violin case. You feel nothing there, but panic starts settling in your heart when you can't find it.

 ¨Looking for something?¨

 You scream and lurch backwards, knocking your head into some kind of stand. Groaning, you rub your head and hold a hand on your racing heart as you squint into the dim red room, placing the voice to the person.

 ¨D-Damon?¨ 

 ¨In the flesh sweetheart. ´Knew you'd come back for this, s´just my luck I came back to get it tonight so I could give it to you personally in case you wanted to be stubborn. But this is even better than I could´ve hoped.¨

 You make out his silhouette in the obsidian abyss in front of you. He's sitting with knees spread on a chair, a few feet in front of you as he leans his head back on the wall. Your precious violin case is being held hostage in his arms, and it's the absolute love you have for the brittle instrument that propels you to your feet and moves you to get the hell out instead of interrogating him.

 ¨What, so you were just here the whole time listening to me falling around like an idiot?” You laugh incredulously, and you see the area of his shoulders move up and down.

 ¨Was pretty funny to watch, honestly. You sound cute when you curse.¨ He stands up to his fullest height now, the red light bouncing off his back, giving him a sort of demonic halo.

 You knew it was actually time to leave when you felt those stupid butterflies in your stomach rise up again.

¨Right, well, I´ll be on my way then. Good luck with your song and whatever, I´ll just take the case...¨ You trail off as your extended hand is left in midair, no violin case reaching it.

 He cocks his head at you. ¨Why are you in such a rush to leave?¨

 You can´t help the scoff that escapes you. 

 ¨Are you serious? You were such an absolute dickhead to me this afternoon, you said all sorts of horrible things to me, and you even fired me for Christ's sake! I want nothing to do with you, so could you please give me my case back so I can go?¨

 He's silent for a moment before answering. ¨Are you done yet?¨

 It isn´t just the light that's making you see red now.

 ¨Fuck you, honestly.¨ You whirl around and stomp towards where you guess the  door is, ignoring the clatter behind you and bingo you locate the handle, but as soon as you turn it-

 A hand reaches from behind you and pulls the ajar door shut.

 ¨Don´t go. I´m sorry.¨

 You´re absolutely still as you feel him towering over you, his arm dangerously close to your midriff as his hand remains on the knob.

 His voice is low, and you can feel him breathe against your neck, mere inches away. You can´t help the involuntary shiver that passes through you, and he feels it too, inhaling deeply when he gets close to your ear.

 ¨You smell so good.¨

 ¨Leave me alone, Damon,¨ you whisper, your voice catching in your throat from the overwhelming onslaught of emotions passing through you.

 He breaths in and slowly lets his hand rest on your side.

 ¨I can't do that. You know why. You have to have known by now.¨

 You tremble in his touch, yet allow his hands to wander down to your hip, the other coming around in a sort of hug to pull you closer to him.

 ¨We can´t.¨

 ¨Sure we can.¨

 You can feel his erection bumping against your ass.

 ¨You´re not worth this.¨

 ¨I´ll make myself worth it.¨

 And as soon as he latches onto the back of your neck, you´re like putty in his hands, a moaning mess as he sucks galaxy-colored hickies on your skin. You can feel yourself grow wetter as he shoves his hands up your shirt and teasingly pulls down the bridge of your bra, letting the weight of your tits fill up his hands appreciatively. He starts rolling your hardened buds in between his skilled calloused fingers, and you whine and throw your head back when you feel him rut against your ass, panting raggedly in your ear.

 You rub your thighs together, desperate for some form of friction as he squeezes your tits, and then letting one hand ghost across the expanse of your stomach, down to brush against the rim of your panties. Damon chuckles meanly in your ear when you buck against the stilled hand over your mound.

 ¨You want this?¨ He lightly nips your ear. He smells like old spice and sandalwood.

 You nod desperately, frustrated with him not giving you his thick fingers already.

 But it's not enough for him. ¨No no, pretty girl, use your words now. I´ve barely touched you yet and you´re already moaning like a wanton little slut for me? And here I was thinking you weren't that easy.¨

 You stop jerking your hips and blood rushes to your face at his insulting words. You try to move out of his grip, huffing and regretting the whole thing but he outright laughs now and spins you around, tugging you forward until your chest is slotted against his. You pout at him and look away, but he's quick to grasp your chin and pull you in for a rough yet sensual kiss.

Pushing you backwards against the wall, he deepens the lip-lock, tracing his tongue over your lips, nipping at the soft flesh and darkening his eyes when you whimper and look up at him.

 He knows what he´s fucking doing when he again drops his hand under your pants and over your panties, his other palm wound up firmly through your hair. He pulls your head back and lets you breathe for a second from his kiss of death before he speaks again.

 ¨I didn't hear an answer, slut. Do you want this?¨ He leans forward until his nose brushes against your neck, flicking his tongue out to taste your saccharine flesh.

 You tremble against his firm body when he pushes his pelvis against you, letting you feel how hard he is for you.

 It doesn't matter anymore. Maybe he was right, maybe you were just an easy slut putting up a facade for him, but when his clothes erection grinds up against your pussy you can't care less.

 ¨Y-yes, yes, ´want you, please,¨ you pant, frantically gripping the back of his cropped hair as his head descends to mark your neck again.

 ¨What a good girl,¨ he whispers, finally allowing his digits to oh-so-slowly trace over your mound, pressing down harder when you jerk against him. He finds your wet clit and flicks it a few times, snickering when you gasp and moan. Your body writhes in place but he holds you literally between a rock-or, wall- and a hard place, preventing you from scampering off.

 He drums his fingers against your folds, paying no attention to the way you grip his head tighter against you, silently begging him to go further.

 But he relents eventually and retires from just pushing and prodding your folds, allowing his slicked fingers to slowly dive into your drooling hole. You whimper and bite back a string of curses when you feel him fill you completely, scraping against your walls for that one special spot.

 His mouth moves off your neck and he rises to face you, a stupid smug grin on his wet lips, his eyelids lowered and trained on you. You flush at his lustful expression and gently push his head away, not wanting to accept his victory yet.

 ¨My fingers are literally fucking you right now, and you still won´t let me look at you? What, too embarrassed you couldn't continue being a stone-cold bitch for long?¨

 You open your mouth to snap back but right at that moment he curls his fingers and grazes your G-spot, simultaneously grounding his wet palm against your clit.

 With a loud gasp and the sluttiest moan you´ve ever made, you cum hard, your mouth open in a silent scream and your tongue hanging out like a bitch in heat as you do so. You fall forward against him.

 You don't even need to look up to know that he has a shit-eating grin on his face.

 ¨What was that sweetheart? Sorry, ´couldn't hear you over those slutty moans. I think even the pornstars I´ve been with would give you a standing ovation if they heard what you just sounded like.¨

 Your words are slurred as you curse nonsense at him, yet you´re still gripping his forearms to keep a hold on yourself. Your ears are ringing and you see spots as you come down from your climax, and surprisingly enough, Damon holds you close and doesn't let you slip down to the ground as you expected to when your knees start to give out.

 Instead, he lifts you up quite easily and carries you over to a table in the corner of the room. You don´t know how he even navigates his way through the dimly lit room, but you suppose after almost half a lifetime in studios he knows his way around.

 You offer no resistance as he sets you down gently and begins to lift your shirt off of your body. You manage to lift your arms weakly up in the air for easier access to stripping, but when he starts to kneel down to take your pants off you stop his hands at your knees and look at him with scrunched eyebrows.

 He stops and looks up at you. His eyes aren't so darkened anymore, they´re wide and imploring, probably noticing your hesitation.

 ¨Damon, I...¨ You trail off as he maintains eye contact with you and slowly lowers his pursed lips to your calf, lightly pecking his way up to your knees and ensuring that you´re watching his every move.

 Your breathing increases again as his pink appendage darts out, his saliva cooling on your exposed thighs. He sucks on the plush skin and turns his head upwards to face you.

 You want to run your hands through his hair.

 ¨You have a wife,¨ You breathe.

 ¨Not for tonight I don´t.¨

 Your voice gets caught in your throat at that. He positions his hands at the side of your knees, fingers curling around the hem of your pants in a second attempt.

 ¨Let me make you feel good, love.¨

His answer is in the form of your hand reaching for his collar and pulling him up into a standing position until he towers over your seated form, once again breath stolen in a heated kiss.

 Damon fumbles with his zipper as you shove your pants off, fully ready for him now, your dampened panties solid evidence of your need for him.

 He pulls his cock out and it bounces out, slapping up against his stomach.

 You do a double take. The tabloids were right. He was absolutely huge.

 It was disgusting almost, it was insulting really. How the fuck could he be that big? You lose count of how many inches he is when you start to get light headed, realizing with a jolt that he plans to put that monster inside you.

 And fuck, why did it have to be so pretty too? Normally you wouldn´t use the word pretty to describe a dick, but fuck, that´s the only appropriate word that came to mind as you admired the white flesh as it mixed in with a dull pink flush turning into an angry shade of red as your eyes progressed up to his tip...which was soaked with precum, mind you.

 He was neatly shaven everywhere, including his plush balls. No wonder he got to fuck half the continent.

 Damon notices your gawking and smiles lazily, taking a fist around his prick and stroking lethargically up and down.

 ¨You gonna just stare at it all day or are you going to spread those cute legs for me?¨

 Spoken like a true middle aged fuck-boyman.

 You look up at him beseechingly, thoroughly intimidated by his length. He merely scoffs, winking at you when he wrenches your tightly closed knees apart.

 It's almost like he falls into a trance when he presses his now-naked torso against your chest, when he slots himself between your legs and drags his tip through your sloppy folds and up onto your clit. His mouth falls open slightly and he moans when your juices coat his dick, making it slippery and easy to push the first few inches ever so slightly into your spasming cavern.

 He can't help but want more, need more as he practically smothers his weight onto you, forcing you to lie back on the table and letting your legs dangle off the edge. He hunches over you and thrusts minutely into your pulsing folds, groaning when you whine and lace your fingers around his neck and tangle your legs around his back, dragging him impossibly close into you.

 For a moment it´s just the sound of you two panting and moaning like inexperienced teenagers, and a zing of pride zips up your spine at the realization that Damon Albarn, one of the world's most renowned playboy is whining and humping against your pussy, reduced to nothing at your hands.

 He takes your hands from around his neck and grips your wrists, forcing them above your head on the table. He leans down and kisses you, hard. You give him back the same energy when your hips move up and down along his length, pushing your inviting hole towards his eager and jumping dick.

 ¨Pretty little girl,¨ he murmurs against your lips, and you nip his bottom lip playfully in retaliation. He slowly starts to sink himself into you, and you practically purr at the feeling of his veiny member dragging against your sensitive walls until he stops. 

 You look at him questioningly, and blanch when you see the mischievous glint in his cobalt eyes.

 ¨I want you to count for me.¨

¨Count…?¨ You shake your head in confusion and he pulls out, making you groan in annoyance.

 ¨I want you to count every inch I put inside you. Unless your slutty mouth can't even do that? I'd be surprised if you couldn´t, you usually have so much shit to say.¨ His voice is low yet teasing, and a shiver passes through you when the rumble of his chest vibrates against your nipples.

 ¨F-fine, I´ll count.¨

 He hums in approval and regroups, guiding his length into your awaiting pussy once again.

 It´s almsot torture how slow he goes, and your toes curl at how vivid the sensation is at this pace.

 You almost forget to do what he asks until he ducks his head down and teeths your bud.

 ¨Ah, fuck! One!¨ You yelp, writhing to get away from his lecherous gaze and hold on your poor tit.

 He tuts and licks the swollen area until the pain subsides a bit, and then he continues to push.

 ¨T-two,¨ you moan and let your head fall back. It's unfair how tightly he´s holding your reins-you want him to plow you down, not take his sweet time in this punishment.

 ¨Damon, can´t you go any faster? Please, I want y-¨

¨-I didn't take you for a masochist, Y/N, but I´m happy to play around with these cute tits if you want to bitch more.¨

Your scowl is cut off when he suddenly shoves two more inches into you, and you mewl loudly at being filled so much.

 ¨Three! Four! Fuck, oh god, please,¨ you babble nonsense as he curses above you, his form shaking in an effort not to push all the way in.

 ¨Doing so good sweetheart, you´re almost halfway,¨ he smirks and you gape at him in disbelief.

 Halfway?

 Five, six, seven, eight, and nine go painfully slow, and by the time he´s fully sheathed inside you, plush balls pressed against your ass, you´re an incoherent, drooling mess.

 Your hair is in your face, your cheeks are flushed, and your body bounces up and down as he begins to rock inside you, finally giving you what you want.

 His name is chanted like an obscene prayer from your mouth as he grunts and shakes the table. Your legs are wobbly and unable to do anything except press him tighter against you to the point where he can barely move back. The skin of his stomach slaps against yours, his balls slap against the crevice of your ass, and your pussy practically sloshes with every stroke in and out.

 He fists your hair with one hand and pulls your neck up to meet his searching lips, his other hand holds your wrists fast against the table. You want to touch him, you want to explore your body as he has conquered yours but he doesn't let you feel anything else apart from the rapid thrusts inside your battered body.

 Damon switches positions and lifts the back of your knees up and pushes them forwards until they meet your chest. He lets his body weight rest on the back of your thighs as he pulls out and pushes back impossibly close inside you, closer than he did in missionary. 

 You sob with need as he plunges into you and reaches a higher spot than before, his tip grazing your cervix. He pounds into you, and you thrust your hips up to fuck back into him, calling out his name as if he were your god.

 It´s a good thing the rooms are soundproof.

 You feel your second climax comes when he paves way through your tight walls and batters your uterus. It doesn´t hurt so much as feel intense, and your choked moans become panting gasps when he brings a hand down to swirl his thumb over your aching clit.

 ¨You´re not going to meet with that prick from your work again, yeah? Say it. Say it if you want me to let you cum.¨ He could have been speaking an alien language for all you knew. Your poor addled brain didn't pick up anything except for the word ¨cum¨, and you were a goner.

 ¨Yes, yes, anything you say, anything you want, just please let me-¨

And oh he does.

 It comes over you like a tidal wave, your mind going blank, your eyes seeing white as your legs shake from your earth-shattering orgasm. You feel like you´re going down a rollercoaster, and you never want to stop dropping.

 Distantly, you hear him groan and say your name. You can feel pulsing in your filled walls, with what you assume is his ropes of cum. It feels like when you came, it practically squeezed all his cum out with your clenching.

 He lets out a shaky breath and falls forward, his nose inches from yours, his breath puffing in your face.

 Your eyes are glazed over, but you´ve never seen anything more clearly before.

 Maybe Damon Albarn really was worth it.

[sunmoontruth-stiles]

Ok this is gonna be long. I’ve literally been slowly working on this for… too long. I’m just in a mood to have a long discussion about ships. I’ll be looking at canon and not, so bare with me. I don’t ship all of these personally. I’m mostly just picking the most popular ones. I chose to leave out a few that I just don’t want to talk about. I tried to keep this loosely chronological, but that quickly went to hell. None of this is meant to be hate towards anyone’s ship, just my personal opinions on each of them.

Canon:

Scott x Allison: True Classic

Scallison is so sweet as it is truly the epitome of young love. Romeo and Juliet, except Romeo is even more of an idiot and Juliet is a badass who dies for a cause. They’re moral and ethical codes are both highly valued by themselves, even if they don’t align with others very often. They loved with everything they had. They were beautiful. We’re they soulmates in the end, or just the first love who will always hold a special place in your heart? Who knows, but I’ll always love these immature kids who thought their love could change everything.

Stiles x Lydia: The Long Awaited

Stydia is as slow burn as you can get. Unfortunately their actual getting together was slightly rushed in my opinion. They didn’t have time to find their own as a couple because Stiles just wasn’t in the show enough at that point. I know the reasons behind it, but it did leave this couple at an awkward stage of official-but-not-shown. The idea that Stiles loved her as a kid, immature and infatuated, and he saw her for who she really was, will always be cute. Then they grew, changed, became friends, and found other people. Them finding each other later on, having real love that’s developed slowly, is a wonderful arc. Though, a part of me will always believe they should have pursued other story lines in the wake of Stiles’ absence from the plot. They’re finally together! …but we don’t get to see it.

Jackson x Lydia: The Image

Oh Jackson and Lydia. Honestly, I love them. Their connection at a time in their lives when they couldn’t open up to anyone else, just hits me right in the feels. I mean, god that HUG. You know the one. Always brings me to tears. I’m so sad their relationship was almost entirely depicted during Jackson’s kanima time when he couldn’t think nor truly act for himself. Those small moments of scared vulnerability when he wanted to protect her from himself… I’ll miss these two. They deserved to find other people and remain life-long friends. I loved their moment in the last episode. I wish they’d gotten to see each other grow. Also they had such bixbi solidarity vibes, and I’ll die on that hill.

Scott x Lydia: Leaders

Ok, I’m gonna be honest here. I ship it. The power couple they would have been?? Also them coming together after they lost Allison would have actually made sense. A part of me kinda wishes the writers had moved on from Stydia as a romantic relationship and leaned into them growing as friends and Stiles moving on from his childhood crush. Scott and Lydia actually would have had good chemistry. They were both very headstrong heroic types, but Lydia would have balanced Scott out well intellectually. They had the history, and I think it could had worked if they wrote it right. Plus, Scott and Lydia would have been a better endgame that Scalia.

Scott x Kira: New Beginnings

These two were adorable. Kira was a badass, don’t get me wrong, but she let herself be soft in a way Allison was always afraid to. This couple was truly Baby. Absolute dorks. I can definitely see the lasting quality between the two of them. They saw things very similarly, and had a ton in common. I do think Kira deserves more characterization outside of their relationship, like more of her friendship with Malia. Overall, her departure from the show will always be sad to me. It was bad writing. Scott was over her far too quickly.

Aiden x Lydia: Pretty People Herd

I honestly didn’t see much between these two other than mutual attraction. The best thing to come out of this relationship was Lydia’s line, “You’re not just a bad boy, Aiden. You’re a bad guy. And I don’t want to be with the bad guys.” Good character development moment.

Ethan x Danny: Step to Redemption

Danny really was the thing that made Ethan look outside of the pack for what he really wanted out of life. They had a few cute scenes. Gotta love Danny’s final remarks, “Dude, it’s Beacon Hills.”

Allison x Isaac: Unexpected Rebound

Ok, I like these two. Isaac could match Allison’s snark in a way Scott couldn’t. They both fought the progression of the relationship slightly. They didn’t expect to fall for each other. They were less willing to let someone in close. I’d love to have seen more… but unfortunately their time was limited. On a side note, sometimes their relationship did feel like ‘we both are in love with the same guy, let’s cope with each other’, but I find that completely valid. I’ll talk about Scallisaac later though.

Stiles x Malia: Anchors

Ok but, them <3 I love what they did for each other. Stiles was able to help Malia connect to her humanity and other people. He never tried to isolate her in their relationship and encouraged her growth. Malia offered Stiles the emotional support he never asked for. She defended him, fought for him, and loved him fiercely. Stiles needed that so much after season 3. I think they were a love that wasn’t meant to last, but the impact of it was forever. I wish we’d gotten to see a real end for them where they agreed that they needed to grow as individuals but would always still care.

Liam x Hayden: Three’s a Pattern

These two’s characterization stopped whenever they had storylines together. Their relationship was built on Scallison references. Hayden’s character could have been interesting, but they never really gave her a moment to shine. Liam has the worst plots when they revolved around her. Cute couple, poor writing.

Derek x Braeden: Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girl Boss

Derek deserves to be happy so much. Kate and Jennifer were just... jeez. Him and Braeden were cute and deserved more screen time. I think her intensity allowed for Derek to let go of control a bit more comfortably. Let Derek Be Soft. Anyway, love them.

Corey x Mason: Gotta Have That Rep TM

These two could have been cute if they were shown for more than two seconds at a time. I highkey forget Corey even existed all the time. Kinda just felt like a relationship to fill TW’s gay quota.

Jackson x Ethan: The Callback

Honestly? Loved them. Loved the chemistry. Loved the dynamic. Best twist. I know it was probably written in like that because Colton came out during his time away from the show, but it absolutely fit his character. Jethan is top tier.

Melissa x Chris: BAMF Parent Duo

Ok, so like, Melissa deserved this plot. She deserved someone to care about her. However... what the hell? Chris? In canon, his wife died like 2-ish years prior? His daughter died 1 year prior?? Is Chris really in a position to pursue a new relationship?? Also, like, Scott and Allison dated and loved each other up to her death. Kinda weird to have their parents hook up. I don’t hate it, but I don’t ship it…?

Scott x Malia: Lead up? What’s lead up?

These two came out of nowhere I stg. Like, 6B really tried to tell us this was something that had been slowly developing in the background? Also, I understand that they are their own people, adults, and completely in charge of their own romantic pursuits: but did Scott seriously never call Stiles? Like, Malia wasn’t just his first girlfriend. She was his first. Like, dude that’s your best friend?? Not even a head’s up? No, ‘hey would this bother you?’ Oof. Plus Malia was way too chaotic for Scott. She existed in gray morality that always prioritized her immediate circle, and Scott was a very black/white type of heroism. I just didn’t feel like they fit.

Non-Canon:

Scott x Stiles: Childhood Best Friends

Ya, sorry, I don’t ship Sciles at all. I get it. Like, I totally understand the ship, and I mean no judgment at all. I just see them as friends. I really value good male friendships in media because I feel like we don’t get enough, and I always liked these two.

Stiles x Derek: Enemies to Lovers. 100k. Angst. Hurt/Comfort.

God these two really are what fanfiction was made for. I could write a much longer discussion about Sterek, and I probably will eventually. I’ll try to keep this brief. These two weren’t always on the same side, but their approach was the same. They were very similar at their core. Plus, wow the chemistry. This should have been canon. Jeff’s a coward.

Allison x Lydia: Powerful.

This ship is so great. They really had a great dynamic, and a romantic plot would have easily fit the established narrative. Lydia’s confidence in herself and Allison’s confidence in her own abilities crossing over to each other because that’s what the other lacked? Iconic.

Danny x Jackson: He Gets Him

Danny really saw Jackson for everything he was and still cared. I wished we’d gotten to see more of them. I  want more background with Jackson’s eventual coming out and his friendship with Danny. Like, they ended up dating the same guy. What did Ethan have to say about that??

Stiles x Jackson: Bastards

Ok these two had a super fun dynamic. The asshole-energy between them was, great. The snark was always so entertaining.

Melissa x Noah: Family

How were these two not endgame? Their sons were practically brothers already. They had amazing chemistry. The flirting? Not to mention, their timeline would have made way more sense. Missed opportunity.

Chris x Peter: The Opposite of Love is Indifference, Not Hate

Ok so like, this was definitely one of those ships that I had absolutely no knowledge of before I was pretty into the fandom. Like, this was not something I would have guessed just after watching the show. That being said; my god the chaos alone…

Scott x Isaac: The Disaster Duo

Okay ya I love these two. Two dumb asses who act like idiot puppies. Such a fun dynamic. Plus?? Chemistry??? Hellooo

Scott x Allison x Isaac: Three Heads Are Better Than One

This ship is definitely one of my personal favorites. I very rarely poly-ship. I just feel like most of them are just love triangles with an ‘easy solution’, when two of them have no real connection. That is so not the case here. I feel like all of them have such great chemistry with each other. They also have a great dynamic as a group. Season 3A was really just Scallisaac rights.

Stiles x Isaac: I Hate You, jk…Not Really

Ok I loved their banter, but I really just don’t see this ship. Idk, I don’t personally ship it. Would have loved to see their friendship develop more tho.

Erica x Allison: Duo that would stab you with a stiletto

I don’t ship it, but I do wish we’d seen them become friends. I feel like they had a very artificial ‘girls fighting over a boy’ dynamic? They could have been such a badass duo.

Stiles x Erica: Batman x Catwoman

Ok I’m not sure exactly how to express my feelings for these two so bare with me. OMG I love their dynamic so much, and they are sooo cute. Their energy? Amazing. Chemistry? Great. History? It’s there and has so much potential. 10/10. Love them. But, no, I don’t ship it lol. Just really love their friendship, but with the underlying history of crushes.

Boyd x Erica: Was This Not Canon?

How can anyone not love Berica? Ugh they are adorable. These two deserved so much better.

Boyd x Cora: Survivors

Honestly I don’t really see it? Like they definitely had a connection, but it never felt romantic. I really feel like they just had to lean on each other and bond to make it through captivity, and it just lasted.

Boyd x Erica x Cora: The Pack

I literally learned this was a ship a couple days ago. Similar feelings towards this as Bora, but with the added hesitancy of we never actually saw Erica and Cora interact.

Cora x Stiles: Slow Build Up

These two were clearing being lined up to be a thing before Cora ended up leaving. I can’t say I’m disappointed they never happened. Kinda felt like they just wanted to straight-code Sterek.

Cora x Lydia: Mean Lesbians

Not much interaction to actually go off of, but yes I 100% support. They have very different approaches to problems, which is fun. Very ‘opposites attract’.

Malia x Kira: “Maybe you could date the coyote?”

Another one of my favorites!! They really complimented each other. Also, how full circle would they have been? They were introduced in back-to-back episodes. Malia stalking her as a coyote? The line from Kira’s dad about dating it? It would have been so funny if that ended up happening.

Malia x Lydia: Beauty and the Beast, but make it wlw

These two were fun. I liked their friendship, but I don’t really ship it. Though, rip Stiles that would have been hilarious.

Parrish x Lydia: The Cop and The Minor

Must I say more? Like, Parrish’s character, so sweet and big rule follower, did not make sense for what went down with Lydia. I love Parrish, but the dynamic just felt off. It didn’t feel consistent with the rest of his characterization.

Parrish x Stiles: The Cop and The Minor, but gay?

Ok, same reasoning as above, but also they had absolutely no connection romantically.

Scott x Theo / Stiles x Theo: Sometimes The Villain is Hot

Ok I’ve put these together because I have the same opinion for both. I don’t ship it. Neither had any rebuilding of trust, and Theo really hurt both of them. I just don’t really think they work.

Mason x Liam: Sciles Puppy Pack Edition

Similar to my feeling about Sciles, I just don’t ship these two. They had a good friendship, from the little we saw of it.

Theo x Liam: Anchors 2: Electric Boogaloo

Another personal favorite! I really don’t even understand why this didn’t go canon?? The elevator scene was just, so intense. They helped each other grow in 6B, and I really loved their dynamic. They should have hooked up.

Honorable Mention?: 

Parrish x Laura: What’s canon?

I’ve seen this in fanfic a lot, and I actually really like it lol. I thought I’d add it in here because I do love the creativity of fandoms.

[thran-duils]

Use All of Me (P.14)

Title: Use All Of Me (Part Fourteen) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Steve Rogers. The Avengers are heroes saving the world but in this AU, they are also permitted by the powers in charge to have less than favorable business underneath their guise of mere superheroes. Steve and Tony are at the helm, keeping their empire’s wealth in check, both devious and perilous if crossed. Steve takes a liking to the reader at a party and it may be her undoing to her autonomy choosing to go home with him. Words: 2,549 Warnings: Dark AF, angst, emotional/mental abuse, smut, breeding, death Author’s Note: Steve’s gaslighting and emotional abuse is starting to sink in for her near the end. Just a warning.

Part Thirteen || Part Fifteen || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

The ride home was uncomfortable. Not space wise, you had enough between Steve and Bucky in the middle row of seats in the SUV. No, it was uncomfortable because everyone was going on about their business like they had not just hijacked you from a cabin. Bucky and Steve were both on their phones, sending e-mails or checking documents. Clint was driving, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel to the music. Sam was staring out the window, watching the scenery go by. You could not see Natasha behind you but you were sure she was as relaxed as the rest of them.

Steve brought his phone up to his ear at one point and you heard on the other end, “Murdock Birth Center.”

“Yeah, I need to make a check-up appointment with Dr. Kamal,” Steve stated. You remembered you had had an appointment then and felt a pang of guilt. “As soon as possible please. For Y/N Y/LN. Hmm. Yeah, that will work. I’ll be sure to have her there.” He shot you a look and you averted your gaze. He thanked the person before hanging up.

You felt him still looking at you for a few moments and you turned your head towards Bucky’s window to avoid looking at him.

They did not take you home though, you went back to the facility. Questions itched but you were thinking that you merely needed to leave the SUV behind and get into his car for him to take you home. Steve helped you get out of the car, steadying you when your feet hit the cement. His arm came up to wrap around your shoulder, guiding you to towards the shade of the overhang outside the front door.

“Stay here,” he ordered you.

You did not get to respond before he turned and walked towards where the other Avengers were gathering further away. He was speaking to them and there were general nods and warm smiles.

Probably thanking them for helping to get you back, you thought sourly.

Movement caught your sight and Tony was coming out of the front door, looking suave as ever. You wondered why he insisted on wearing a suit vest and tie when he had nowhere to be. His gaze fell on you and he rose his eyebrows, smirking, in greeting. You forced a small smile, hating the smug look on his face. He caught Steve as Steve was leaving the group and whispered something to him. Steve met his eyes and hesitated before nodding. A few more words were exchanged before Tony let go of Steve’s arm and Steve continued on his way to you.

His arm came around your shoulder, guiding you again towards where his car was parked.

<><><>

You stood in the middle of yours and Steve’s room, staring around at the pristine furniture and unwrinkled bed. It was spotless, nothing out of place. Nothing changed since you had been gone for the week and a half. You thought to yourself Steve had probably barely been in the room anyway, spending most of his time searching for you.

The room was not homey. There was no personalization besides a couple framed photos of the two of you on the long dresser underneath the TV. You looked to the wall windows overlooking the grounds outside. They matched the inside: trimmed, everything in its place.

You were back to your perfect life in your perfect house. Alone. Except for when Steve was home and enveloped every ounce of your attention and being to him and him alone. You wondered how that would fare as soon as the babies were born. You wondered if Steve’s jealousy and possessiveness would extend to his children when you could not solely focus on him. That was a troublesome thought.

You sighed, your hands coming to rest at your hips, supporting your back. You caught sight of yourself in the mirror, seeing your belly starting to peek out from beneath your nightshirt. Steve would want new clothes brought in for you now that you were getting in your final months and you were going to really balloon out now.

As if his ears were burning, his voice sounded from behind you, “Y/N?”

You turned your head towards the doorway; he was looking at you concerned. You gathered he must have tried to get your attention a couple of times. You were so lost in your thoughts.

“Come here,” Steve beckoned you with two fingers.

He did not have to request it twice. You followed him down the stairs, him walking a step before you, ready to catch you if you stumbled.

Halfway down the stairs, he chastised, “I don’t like the idea of you going up and down stairs too often without someone there.”

“That’s where our bedroom is,” you told him point blank. His mouth set into a thin line as you reached the final stairs. You inhaled deeply, calming any sense of argumentative behavior you had in your bones at his cautiousness. “I use the handrail. Always.”

“I’m worried about your balance.”

“I’m paying attention to that.”

Steve looked like he wanted to say something else but he turned away from you, striding towards the front door and you followed. As soon as you stepped out onto the front porch, you stopped, seeing all the security from around the grounds gathered in a semi-circle.

On a stair above them, Steve leveled all of them with a serious gaze, his profile visible to you.

“New ground rules starting today and running indefinitely. Y/N – and you can just start referring to her as Mrs. Rogers because it’ll be soon enough and I will have you all being respectful to my wife – is not allowed to leave the property without a proper escort and my permission. If you don’t see me face to face saying she’s allowed to leave or hear me over the phone, she doesn’t leave. No one comes onto the property either unless they’re one of the team or you have prior notice from me.”

Your breath was quickening with every word that fell from his lips.

“Does everyone understand that?” Steve asked, his gaze falling on you specifically.

There were a chorus of ‘yes sirs’ but Steve was watching you intently, expectantly.

“Yes,” you said quietly.

Your understanding was the one he ultimately wanted to witness. You had broken his trust like he had specifically asked you not to. And he was true to his word; he was locking the damn keys up.

<><><>

“You kept them alive?” Tony asked incredulously when Steve told him that Yua and Natalie were still alive.

Steve rose a brow, sending a challenging look right back at him. He shrugged lightly, “What collateral would I have over her head otherwise? They’re all I’ve got until the babies are born. I don’t doubt for a second any threat I would take them away from her permanently will keep her underneath my thumb. And warming my bed.”

Tony chewed his gum with purpose, staring at Steve, letting that sink in.

“That was a gamble. You are leaving a window for them to try something foolish again,” Tony finally said with a malcontent tone.

“She’s not allowed to leave the grounds.”

“At all?”

“Not unless I give permission. No more joy rides. And no one is allowed on the grounds,” Steve said. He noticed the cocked eyebrow sent in his direction and he added, “Unless they’re an Avenger. You’re still on the list, you baby.”

“I would be offended if I wasn’t,” Tony returned. He pushed away from the table he was leaning on to stand up straight. He walked around it, tapping his pen on his open palm. A nervous tick. “So, you are here for the chip I am guessing.”

“And for the company.”

Tony smirked over his shoulder. “Right.” He stopped, twirling on his heel to face Steve again who had begun to follow him. He set him with a look and told him sincerely, “I told Pepper to talk to Y/N. Give assurances and whatnot. I think with the right conditioning, Y/N will find comfort in motherhood.”

Steve nodded in agreement, “I don’t doubt that for a second. She’ll desire to cradle them… her motherly instincts kicking in to cradle them at her breast.”

“You’re banking on it,” Tony observed, chuckling. Steve merely shrugged and Tony laughed again. “Yeah, I did too. And it worked out. She’s gonna get protective. You’re right to use them for collateral. You should marry her and get custody put in place once the children are born.”

“I am already planning on marrying her. I already told the staff to start referring to her as Mrs. Rogers. Never too early to start showing her the respect she deserves,” Steve informed him. And then he asked, “But custody? I’m the father.”

Tony pointed his pen at him as they approached the worktable. “Yes, but if there’s no custody order in place then she can legally take them again from you… again. Honestly, Steve, do you not listen to anything I try to teach you?”

“Is that what you did with Pepper?”

“I threatened it,” Tony said and then made a face. “And thennnn… I actually did it. She doesn’t know that still but, I don’t leave anything up to chance. But the threat was enough and still holds to be enough. Even doing that might get Y/N to shape up.”

Steve admitted, “I would rather just have her sign the damn thing and see it for herself.”

“Probably smart with her. She is… what was your word? Squirrelly?”

“Shut up,” Steve retorted.

Tony chortled, “Well, she is. But, be proud of yourself. You have got a perfect one bagged. I’m proud of you.”

<><><>

Pepper had been elated to see you back safe and sound. She had prepared an entire smorgasbord for you, all different kinds of small things to snack on before dinner. You were surprised to learn she had actually done it herself and not the maid. She really must have been excited to have you coming over.

She gushed over your stomach, congratulating you on its size. You had told her you were not sure if the size is something you should be happy about and she waved you off, reminding you you were growing two babies inside there.

The food was delicious, you made sure to make two small sandwiches for yourself made out of different ingredients and an array of different sides to munch on. Morgan was down for a nap, so you had not seen her yet, surprisingly to your disappointment. Since you were really having to face you were going to have two small ones of your own soon, you wanted to be around another baby to learn the ins and outs.

Pepper’s back was to you, refilling your glass of water, still speaking over her shoulder as you reached for another handful of grapes. Being distracted by both the food and her conversation, you didn’t even notice Tony had come up behind you before you felt his grip on your upper arm and the stick into your bicep.

You tried to yank away, shouting in alarm. But Steve was at your other side, blocking you from leaving your chair and you all but collided with his chest. You hissed in pain as Tony scolded you for making that harder than it needed to be, telling you if you had just sat still you would not have had that much pain. You craned your neck the other way to look up at Steve in shock and he was staring down at you without remorse.

“What… what was that?” you practically demanded, your eyes narrowing in anger.

Steve did not answer you, Tony did, sounding pretty happy with himself. “Tracking device. Completely harmless, even with babies. Trust me. Pepper has one too. But I’m giving you the upgraded one. That baby will be able to find you no matter where you are. Top quality technology there. You are one of the firsts to be able to try it out.”

He said it like you should be thanking him and be in awe of the gift he was bestowing.

You noticed Pepper had turned back around, her jaw slack from disbelief at what she had just witnessed. Her eyes met yours and you saw regret and empathy in her eyes. Of course she felt that for you. Tony had just told you that she had one too. And they had used her extension of friendship as a way to distract you to be able to make sure you were just as trapped as she was.

Suddenly you did not feel like eating anymore. You threw the grapes back onto your plate, some bouncing off the plate to roll across the counter. Fury was welling up inside your stomach, threatening to boil over.

“Y/N,” Steve’s voice came deep and rumbling, warning overwhelming his tone.

Tony had discarded the needle down a chute on the counter across from you, whistling. He was pulling glasses out of the cupboards.

“Drinks before dinner?” he asked and then shot you an apologetic smile. “I’ve got some sparkling water for you, Y/N.”

You were having trouble focusing, trying to shove all the anger you felt down. You knew you had brought this on yourself by leaving, by betraying Steve’s trust. But you did not think he would go as far as to let Tony implant a GPS tracker in you. You did not think those were even real, but you should not be surprised with Tony. And poor Pepper…

And now, poor you.

During dinner, you were kind to Pepper, keeping up the face with her. You could tell she was distraught for you and you kept brushing it off with a wide smile. No need for anyone else to feel miserable on your account, especially her. You had gotten yourself into this mess and now you were reaping the consequences. You had pushed Steve past his breaking limit, and you had no one to blame but yourself. You were taking your medicine in each dose and you would continue to do it with as much decorum as you could muster.

On the way out the door, Tony grabbed your arm again, stopping your stride. You flinched at his touch and he noticed, a laugh leaving him.

“Oh, darling, sorry. Not another shot. It’s just me,” he told you, pulling you close. Your eyes flicked to Steve still walking down the hall towards the front door where his coat was hanging. Tony leaned in, grabbing your attention again. “You be nice to him now. He’s got something really special for you planned. You understand?”

There was menace lurking in his gaze and you nodded quickly to escape his stare. It was gone and he nodded. “Good girl. You treat him right. You have another opportunity to do so and I know you learned your lesson.”

He let go of your arm with a jerk and you stumbled back a bit. You nodded again, nervousness coursing through you before you turned and faced Steve again who had just realized you were not following behind him. He beckoned you and you walked to him quickly.

~~~

Tags: @imsonick , @alexakeyloveloki, @kvzctam, @ironlady1993, @taintedgenre, @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @roxyfan14-blog @mrsnegan25 @coconutqueen21

[logically-asexual]

Hold me like you mean it

summary:

Logan’s feelings for Virgil and the fact that now Virgil barely notices him are stopping him from getting any work done. Janus offers a way for Logan to cope, by disguising himself into Anxiety. but is this really what Logan needs? and what’s in it for Janus, anyway?

alternatively, an angsty story about rejection, denial, and manipulation.

note: this fic is completely written with a total of 9 chapters and 9k words, but I will be posting the chapters every couple days in hopes to build up hype. this is my first time writing something longer than ~1k and also my first time writing in A While. but I tried really hard and I’m very proud of it so I hope you like it.

note 2: please don’t take this as a guide to learn about unhealthy relationships, it's a theme in the story but it’s not meant to be educational in any way.

warnings: (for the whole fic) unrequited love, rejection, manipulation, unhealthy relationships, gaslighting, dependency, dubious consent and non consent for kissing, sad ending, depression (vaguely described), angst in general, nightmares. let me know what else i should add.

Read on AO3

Chapter 1

| Next |

words: 1,217

Logan sighed as he tossed another paper ball into the bin. His eyes were starting to burn from the strain, but he was determined to have the plan finished by tomorrow. He had started typing his ideas into his computer, but the light began to hurt as the sky became dark, and he couldn’t risk anyone seeing his room’s light on from the hall, so he had turned on a small lamp and tried again with pen and paper.

He pulled another blank paper sheet and started over. It was kind of ridiculous, when he thought about it long enough, to spend this much time trying to figure out the best way to talk to Virgil in the following days, but he had identified his lack of communication with Anxiety as the most important and urgent issue to resolve in his table of priorities. After all, Thomas had become more anxious in the past weeks. So, in order to be heard, he needed to be able to collaborate with Virgil, which would also keep Thomas’ mind clear and stop him from procrastinating so much.

Another list of ideas had almost filled the page when Logan was startled by a knock on his door, followed by the sound of his pencil dropping to the floor. He hurriedly turned the paper over, stood up, and went to open the door, hoping to end whatever interaction that was about to happen as soon as possible. He was surprised to find Janus standing on the other side. At least it wasn’t Virgil, but Logan knew either of them could easily detect the smallest sign of nervousness, and Logan was definitely nervous. It was late and he shouldn’t be working.

“Good evening Janus, is there anything I can do for you?” Logan greeted from where he stood, poking his head out of the barely open door. The sooner this conversation ends, the better, he repeated to himself. His hand tightened around the doorknob as he waited for Deceit to say something, while the other was staring at him with a slightly amused look on his face.

Just when Logan was about to tell the other to stop wasting his time, Janus spoke. “I came here to ask for your opinion on an idea I had, but I can tell you’re trying to hide something,” he said as he crossed his arms and looked into what was visible of Logan’s room, before turning his gaze back into Logan’s eyes. “So spit it out already.”

Logan glanced quickly towards the papers on his desk and back at Janus with an expression as neutral as he could manage. “I am trying to hide the fact that I am working late at night, because I must be an example to the rest of the Sides and keep a strict, healthy schedule to encourage them to do the same. Happy?”

“Of course.” Janus said, apparently satisfied, but he only gave Logan a second to feel relieved before he pushed past him into his room. He walked directly towards his desk and, out of all the objects laying on it, he picked up the one Logan dreaded the most.

Janus looked the paper sheet over as a wide grin formed on his face. Then, he held it high and began reading out loud. “Strategic Plan to Communicate Effectively with Anxiety. Updated version 5.2. Step one: approach Virgil (gently) after our next discussion and point out the arguments he made that were helpful. Step tw-”

“That’s enough.” Logan interrupted, as he snatched away the paper. “What do you want?”

“Oh you know me, I just love it when you all insist on hurting yourselves and Thomas in the name of irrelevant lies.” Janus said with a sarcastic tone, increasing Logan’s discomfort. He continued, with a mocking smile. “If you’re going to hide things, I’d prefer you do it for something useful instead of some crush.”

Logan blinked rapidly and felt heat rising to his face. “What? What are you talking about?” He took a moment to look at Janus’ unimpressed expression, while he pieced together what the other Side was implying. “You think I have a crush on Virgil? No, no. See, I have a table of problems that hinder my productivity and therefore Thomas’ that I need to address and lately Virgil hasn’t been listening or interacting at all with me, which has stopped any of my other projects from being considered, so the most logical solution is to fix that as soon as possible through effective communication with him.” He had to take air in once he finished his explanation, realizing he had uttered it all in one breath. He watched expectantly as Janus raised an eyebrow.

“Right...” Janus said, as he once more took the paper from Logan’s hand. “And what role exactly do Step six, “partake in movie nights when Virgil chooses the film,” and Step eight, “stand closer to his position on the stairs when the twins are making him uneasy” play into this… productivity thing?” Before Logan could defend his reasoning, Janus went on, now with a slightly softer expression. “Listen, Logan. I know you have a selfish motive behind this, you don’t have to hide that from me. I’m not Patton. I won’t judge you.”

Logan swallowed, embarrassed to admit this feeling, both to himself and to Janus, and replied with a whisper. “I just… miss him, and I want us to be friends again.”

“Is that all?”

Logan nodded, looking down at his shoes. After a moment, he added “we used to understand each other well, and I had an easier time working then, with him, with the rest of the Sides, and by myself.”

“Very well. If that’s the case, I think I can help.”

With the intention to ask what kind of help he meant, Logan turned his gaze back up, only to be shocked by the sight of Virgil standing in front of him. He inhaled sharply and took a step back, not moving his eyes from Virgil’s tilted smile. Once his mind caught up with what happened and what was being offered to him, he immediately refused. “No, Janus.” (Saying the name out loud helped him remind himself who really was in front of him) “I want to make things right with the real Virgil. Staying in denial and pretending things are fine won’t help anyone.”

“But it will help you, L.” He heard in Virgil’s low voice, but with Janus’ usual intonation, it didn’t match well. “You said yourself that you can’t get any work done because your mind is occupied with missing me. This way you can work on our relationship while taking the edge off.” Janus took a step towards him and put his hand on Logan’s shoulder.

Logan considered it for a second, before settling on the same answer. “No. I’m sorry, Deceit, I’ll follow my own strategy.”

Janus’ expression fell, and he shifted back into his usual appearance, but he kept his posture straight and his head high. “Fine, but my offer is still open for whenever you are ready to accept it.” With that last statement, he gave Logan his notes back. Then he walked out of Logan’s room, shutting the door behind him, leaving Logan alone in the dark.

| Next |

notes: (yes, i just talk a lot, sorry) welcome to the journey! hope you enjoy :D and if you like it pls leave a comment.

also the title is from Four Tequilas Down by dodie, (which is a big mood for the story)

[bellafingadventure]

Let’s talk about irony. 

BANG.

BANG.

BANG.

The sky six hours from now will be illuminated by fireworks, annually, yet people are still surprised this is a thing that happens. Large groups of overworked middle class Americans taking their first and last sip of booze for months. 

Irony.

We as a people, and even those  “above” us, dictate what “worth” means to us.

This comes with how much we work, VS how much we’re paid, sided with a hotcake of WILL. 

What are you willing to do for happiness? What are you willing to sacrifice?

I’m 27 years old and always seem to be in a battle with life. I used to think it was a battle with myself, but that's such a constant I usually don’t even give it the attention we all know it deserves. 

Now I just battle life. Ya know, the ones your folks gave you without consideration of the awful traits they’d pass along with debilitating features they've both buried for years... oh. 

I feel like the two of us signed up for a different post today, although this is usual, I figured that maybe I’d throw something new into the mix. Something a little more for my other blog. 

YES, I have more than one blog. - This account was started when I was in 7th grade if I’m not mistaken, ugh theeverydayblues...I’m 27 now, and although Tumblr has become an alternate form of expression for me throughout the years, it still gets the job done..exactly how I need it to - EVERY-TIME. 

It’s the 4th of July, again -  I’m 27 years old.

What would you expect I was doing? Where would you think I am?

I’m currently at a restaurant, one I’ve avoided for a long time. The last memory-worthy relationship I was in was with my x; CHANG. We dated for almost 8 years, crazy to think that much time went by, but I guess when you’re being gaslighted nothing seems real.

Towards the end of our relationship I ended up finding out that the gym he went to daily, the one I always asked to join, he had met a nice young lady.. - 

One who soon, less than a year later would be posing for the New Year in front of a IKEA photo he and I had bought for our apartment the first year we moved in years ago. 

It’s funny, these days- Saying these things out loud and processing them just as well..

I’m sitting at a restaurant on 4th of July alone, across from a couple who you can tell has loved for many many years.

I’m usually the person to want to know the secret, to ask “What does it take?!” - Hopelessly in love with the idea of being in love..I’ve stumbled through my life not quite understanding it’s the basics you learn from that form your existence. 

They sat as I was waiting for my desert, I’ve been working hard so I bought myself a bottle of wine and a steak to pair. My waiter had been charming and immediately caught my eye with his beautifully groomed Gentleman's stash.  I noticed them because they were sat by the host at a four person table while I sat with what felt like selfishly at a two person booth.  

Immediately they talked about how cold the place felt, how he wish he wore long pants instead of shorts and how she wondered if they’d be hated if they asked to move to a area with less of a draft. 

It’s funny because for a period of my life in this  industry I sat around and talked about how dramatic and selfish people with long left chapters felt about our air or seating. Usually when we’re going through something - we think selfishly. Even If it's just at a restaurant. We worry about ourselves. 

She asked where the powder room was, after a glance at her empty seat. and empty feeling I’m sure he felt looking over at me, he journeyed off as well in hope of either not being alone, using the restroom, or both. 

He came back quickly, anxiously looking around to make sure he didn't miss his love. The longest 15 minutes I’ve ever experienced.

When she returned, he made sure she was comfortable and ready to order. They chatted a little about the price and the indoor ambiance while waiting for the delightfully mustached server we both shared. 

Their meal started off coy, he didn’t take a bite till she did, and she didn't ask for a bite from his food VS her salad. Her eyebrows were painted on with a color that didn’t quite match her hair, her expressions were misleading. 

Although her relaxed face was writing the story of her 4th of July outing, her eyebrows seemed - uneasy. 

I perfectly timed my glasses of wine to the bottle I ordered. I saved 2 1/2 glasses.

2 G - Desert

1/2 G - Waiting for bill. 

After sitting alone, and watching them slowly start to talk and enjoy each others company throughout their meal, I melted. 

I know what I deserve and what I’m capable of, but admiring a love everlasting like that really puts things into perspective.

The battles you choose, the selfishness you provide, if you want it - you’ll have it. 

Nothing comes free, and sometimes sitting alone is the perfect way to remind yourself how you take care of yourself just fine - but not settling for the bare minimum from someone else feels just as good. 

I overheard a intodroduction between the two of them and my server Adam, If I evesdropped just right - their names are Monte & Lana. 

Those are gentle reminders, to be human, and to be selfless..

I’m going to go home now and watch some movies. Hopefully the text I just saw about us being open today are fake. 

FML. CIAO 

[ibelonginthepast]

okay I need your klance fic recs(i feel like you have really good taste)(i mean your icon is literally THE keith of course you have god tier taste)

okay so the thing is.. that when i say am kinda messed up and disgusting sometimes... and becoming a madwoman... am not over exaggerating or saying it in a funky way.. i actually am getting like that .. and that's how i got into the klance fandom initially. i project through lance and read really langsty fics.. and they are messed messed with like violent nsfw, gore, horror, serious mental health issues etc? so if u want those... i'll only send them if u want?

yeah tho i entered with this thingy that klance is gonna be like my guilty pleasure or some shit but them i inevitably fell in love with some GORGEOUS fanfictions out there and KEITH KOGANE in all shapes sizes genders and ages so lol...

but they aren't flowery. that's just not my taste. Some of them might be "problematic"? it's in quotes because i don't agree with it. it's not going to be problematic in plain ignorant sense like racial issues or blatant sexism or mental abuse.... but they might have like stuff which people dont always agree with like drugs. most of them would have nsfw it's just something that i need to have for feels and that's why i asked if u minded it. some things are like more subjective,, characterizations for example, cause like some people dont think keith is a skirt guy cause he isnt in fashion but i think he is petty and rebellious so he will defo do that? some of them would have like physical fights and stuff.. or keith and lance being mean to each other.. some ugly habits which aren't necessarily condemned like anger or drugs.? but with how i see it, it's not glorified, so i see them as human. i love the raw and ugly in these or idk its just human to me (but some people dont like which is completely valid cause we are all different from different environments and think different and resonate with different stuff.)

wait addition: i think some of them will have sexist themes? which i have complained about a lot before. i dont know why authors feel the need to somehow put women down to show how a mlm relationship without any women is superior or some shit it's annoying as fuck i hate it. i dont think i would have any especially sexist fics here, but there might be some with lowkey themes and bad handling of those issues. some of them mau have that subtext of disgusting heteronormative standards, but in subtext uk like bottom lance having a small waist and being giggly and all in contrast to big bulk keith.

here are some that i had bookmarked... but i may remember some more and then send them to u and or add them here...

a heads up.. i dont remember all of them very well. its been a while and i read fanfictions A LOT so yeah.. incase one slips up here which isnt very good am sorry dont judge me

the bold ones are the ones u should really check out if our taste is similar.

to begin with plain f l u f f,, my first klance bookmark was How Could I Say No? by Padfoots_Pawprint. tws for violence, bullying, injury BUT it's not actually gory or something like that it's just keith being keith and getting hurt and lance helping my boi like he should. it made me feeeeeeeel ksksk

this was one that kinda really touched me,, Wasted youth, Cryptids, and Waterboys by Baea THIS HAS EXPLICIT NSFW in it, the first chapter kicks off with it.. its a good fuck buddies to lovers in my opinion.. i love the writing style, the choice of how it's just a couple entries of random days in their lives. i love keith's characterization.. he is a hobo and a conspiracy nerd.. i love how down for him lance is, very dedicated. i love their growth.. i love how they help each other grow,, and it's so like real and usual day to day and human and down to earth idk how else to express it. this is INCOMPLETE. it's 12 chapters and discontinued as of now,, but it's not a deadly cliffhanger

similar in style and approach to the above. tho i think here is where it gets dubious. Easy, Tiger. by @/WhatTheBodyGraspsNot ... this is INCOMPLETE too and as of now discontinued. this has that sorta murky vibe with it's drug usage, them being teenagers in school and engaging in stuff like this, bad boy keith and all. this has nsfw too. i just remember really liking it and its very raw and unfiltered. tho it's incomplete it's not an open ending for now.

okay so i am restarting this but am upset as fuck that it all got deleted so i am gonna be lazy and not put as much effort as i did.

i have also Crowd Pleaser bookmarked by the same author,, this one's complete and it has some serious issues around gaslighting if i remember correctly... i really liked it then. keith is literally an angel here, i want to kidnap him and marry him literally. the s h w ee t e s t shit ,, and i like how lance gives him all the support and space to get his shit together

Drummer boy by klancekorner,, i think it's similar to the prev one, but lance's pov(which is what i prefer ngl). this authors fanfics are all just wholesome. i had put links to all their fics before, but imma now just say that u should go and check all their fics out. i have them all bookmarked, i must have seen something in them (can't remember what now tho and i cant be bothered to skim through them like last time *rolls eyes*)

War of hearts? idk why honestly, just ik keira has made me gay, and lesbian rejection angst? garrison? yes :) it's incomplete, conveniently left at the point where lance's heart is broken lol

Fuck buddies with benefits. THE NAME IS BAD I KNOW but i just love the idea of a dedicated mess of a keith and lance taking care of him. that's it that's the fic if i remember correctly. oh wait yeah u might think keith is not treating lance right, but i think it's fine if lance is treated a bit stupid. this is a bit too sex driven tho i dont like it but just SLEEPDEPRIVED KEITH TO TAKE CARE OF IMMA SIGN UP (ik this maybe coming off toxic but lol look at me)

Rambling: THIS WAS ME.

Last Defense: TW SUICIDE this is literally the langst i have for canon lance

I want something else: bad boy keith can break my limbs and cut my face and i will thank him

A thank you would be nice: keira damn

game-set-match: b a d b o y

I swear to go the devil made me do it: my typically fav trop, hardcore pining lance, literally perfect angsty keith. very similar to the top ones ig? idk also this one is one of my comparatively recent sane bookmarks so that's something. it starts off weird, u think it gon be subtly sexist but it turns out better so hold on

you've got me locked up: i think it's delinquent keith,, its floofy

Dad lance and tattoo artist keith: the name says it

damn while going through my bookmarks i realized that there are a lot of things i never bookmarked? i am pretty sure i loved a lot of long fanfictions, flower shop aus and tattoo artists shit wtf-

wait here's one, it's not complete: Blood jumps in the sun: it's very heavy has a lot of growth and kinda wholesome,, tags and summary will give u an idea what u getting in.

The lessons we learned: can't remember much other than florist keith, sad keith, smart keith, really long, pining

damn i think i have a lot of happy ones i didn't bookmark cause my brain was like u dont deserve the serotonin :( i'll add if i have more)

some actually angsty, detailed nsfw and messy (according to the way u interpret these) ones... lemoninagin.. they have some very detailed and explicit nsfw stuff but i am not there for it. some of it has the kind of angst i like? an actual one that i love and they recently posted and the reason am putting them here is infinitesimal. best friends to lovers and tho usually it's not my cup of tea.. it's a character study, an interpretation of klance in a modern world i dare say,, which is very similar to mine. the thing about them is that i like their characterization a lot, and in no love in this, i like what kind of background stories they give to klance in their aus. i haven't read many by them, so if u want u can check them out.

i just realized i have put some lowkey sad/fucked fics here... i did remove 5 rn... i hope its all good damn why am i doing this i feel like am putting myself naked out there when i recommend my favs

[rosethornewrites]

Fic: The Rebellion of Adrien Agreste ch. 1-2

Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Juleka Couffaine/Rose Lavillant, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Luka Couffaine, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Kagami Tsurugi, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Luka Couffaine, Lila Rossi/karma, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth/aneurism, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Kagami Tsurugi, Plagg & Tikki

Characters: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Lila Rossi, Jagged Stone, Plagg, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Luka Couffaine, Penny Rolling, Anarka Couffaine, Rose Lavillant, Juleka Couffaine, Kagami Tsurugi, Alya Césaire, Chloé Bourgeois, Wayhem, Nadja Chamack, Nathalie Sancoeur, Sabine Cheng, Tom Dupain, Tikki, Fang, Principal Damocles, Caline Bustier, Ms. Mendeleiev, original minor character, Alec Cataldi, Lila Rossi's Mother, Sabrina Raincomprix, Roger Raincomprix, Mylène Haprèle, Le Gorille | Adrien Agreste's Bodyguard, Nino Lahiffe, Nooroo

Tags: Lila Rossi salt, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Teenage Rebellion, Swearing, Bad Parent Gabriel Agreste, Crack Treated Seriously, Lila Rossi's Lies Are Exposed, Cuddling & Snuggling, Luka Couffaine Needs a Hug, Paparazzi, Parentification, Marinette Dupain-Cheng Needs a Hug, Gabriel Agreste Needs an Aneurism, Uncle Jagged Stone, we're all queer here, the spirit of punk is sometimes just being allowed to be yourself, Kagami Finds Her Groove, punk rock fashion, Savage Kagami, Marinette protection squad, Good Parent Sabine Cheng, Good Parent Tom Dupain, Protective Kagami Tsurugi, Protective Luka Couffaine, Bisexual Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Pansexual Luka Couffaine, Sharing a Bed, Pet Names, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Instagram, Bullying, Social Media, Anxiety, Makeover, Hugs, will cure your acne, Face Punching, Bad Ass Juleka Couffaine, Rumors, Protective Juleka Couffaine, Protective Adrien Agreste, Lawyers, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Holding Hands, accountability, mental health, Jagged Stone's well-paid pet shark, How to Make the Evening News, Sexy eyeliner for days, one fish two fish Lila is a screwed fish, How to have fun and piss Gabriel off, Fuckery, sweet litigious karma, Alya sugar, lawyer shark doo doo doo doo doo doo, Schadenfreude, Bad Ass Alya Césaire, Gaslighting, abuse denormalization, Jagged likes his lawyers like he likes his pets: toothy af, Blood in the Water, Everything you didn’t know you wanted and some things you did, Gabriel Agreste is shark bait, Denial, Consequences, Principal Damocles salt, caline bustier salt, the impotence of Gabriel Agreste, snarky Nooroo, lies and the lying liars who tell them, Lila's brain is a narcissistic hellscape, Lila’s mind is built like an Escher piece, Alec Cataldi salt, Adrien Sugar, wholesome salt, Fu Salt, Kwami Shenanigans, Nooroo is a little shit

Summary: Gabriel decides that Adrien entering a romantic relationship is a good move for the brand. He chooses Lila Rossi as the other half. Adrien nopes tf out.

Notes: I was gonna have it be a slow acceleration, but Adrien was all “Go big or go home.” Also trying to find motivation to write more of this fic.

AO3 link

----------

“No,” Adrien growled. “Absolutely not!”

Lila made a show of crying, not that anyone in the room believed her tears were real.

Gabriel frowned at him from his desk. “This will be good for the brand—”

“Fuck the brand!”

“Adrien! This is unbecoming. You will be seen to be dating Ms. Rossi. That is final.”

Adrien’s fists were so tight he was sure he had crescents eating into his palms. “Like hell it is! I will not date that—” he gestured at Lila “—lying cow. Not after how she’s hurt my friends.”

Said girl gasped, outraged, and Adrien was glad to see she actually looked truly upset.

His father stood, but kept his voice emotionless, calm, self-assured that he would capitulate. “Cease this ridiculous teenage rebellion.”

He saw red, but oddly it calmed him. “Father, you have not seen teenage rebellion,” he said, his voice almost terrifyingly calm. “But I would be happy to teach you what it looks like if you try to force me to do this.”

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses. Adrien could see him considering that, but then discarding it. “It will be in the papers tomorrow. If you misbehave, you’ll no longer be permitted to go to school.”

Adrien snorted. He knew more ways to escape this house than his father could possibly anticipate—some he’d made himself, even. “Good luck, Gabe. You’re going to need it.”

He spun on his heel before his father could respond and slammed the door behind him. With the enhanced strength he had as the Black Cat Miraculous chosen, the wood cracked audibly.

As he made his way back to his room, he realized the opportunity his father had just placed in his lap. As the face of the brand, Adrien had more power than Gabriel seemed to realize. It was time to stretch those muscles.

He had planning to do.

---------

His father had spectacularly good timing for pulling this kind of stunt—for Adrien, anyway. He’d heard from a couple of friends of his that a certain rock star was in town. And if anyone was up for promoting teenage rebellion, Adrien had no doubt it would be Jagged Stone.

It was child’s play to sneak out of the house. He didn’t even have to transform to do it. From there it was just making his way to the Grand Paris Hotel. The staff assumed he was there to see Chloé, so getting in was no problem. Jagged Stone always rented the same suite, so that wasn’t an issue, either.

The hard part, he knew, would come after he knocked on the door.

Jagged opened the door, and then peered at him suspiciously.

“Um, M. Stone, I don’t know if you remember me but—”

The rock star suddenly broke into a wide grin. “Oh, you’re Marinette’s model friend, right?”

Adrien blinked. Maybe this wouldn’t be so hard. His rock idol knew him?

Sadly, he had no time to fanboy.

“Yes, Adrien. I was wondering if I could trouble you for some help?”

And so that was how Adrien Agreste wound up sitting in Jagged Stone’s suite, petting Fang, and telling him about the woe that was the obsession his father had with Lila Rossi, Liar Extraordinaire.

“She said I had a what?”

“A kitten. And she got Marinette expelled and is just being really awful to her.”

Jagged opened a cell phone. “Penny, I need you. Yes, I know I sent you for macrons, but this is really important. Bring my niece with.”

When he was finished, he turned to Adrien again. “We’ll get that taken care of.”

“That’s not all, M. Stone.”

He pressed forward, telling his idol of the relationship he was being forced into and his promise to show Gabriel Agreste just what he could do if he really rebelled.

When he was done, Jagged’s face was gleeful in an almost terrifying way.

“Oh, please tell me I get to help with this?” At Adrien’s nod the man whooped in excitement. “Brilliant. Once my niece gets here, we’ll plan properly. She’s a planner, that one. Smart as a whip.”

Adrien blinked. “Your niece?”

“Marinette, of course! Honorary niece.”

His jaw dropped. Marinette had always had the upper hand on Lila, could call in Jagged at any moment to destroy her, and had held back. He never should’ve stopped her.

“My father can’t know she helped. He’s got so much power in the fashion industry, and I don’t want to hurt her career.”

Jagged waved away his concerns. “Mate, listen. From what I understand you’re the face of that company. You have the power, not him. Get you in some Marinette originals, and he can’t undo the fame that’ll bring her.”

Adrien hadn’t considered that. “I just don’t want her hurt.”

He heard the door open, and then a soft, “Adrien?”

It meant he had to explain the situation all over again, letting Jagged Stone assure her that he was going to pop the liar’s kitten whopper as soon as possible.

“I can stop by your school with Fang, yeah? They can’t keep me from saying hi to my favorite niece.”

Marinette bit her lip. “That would be helpful, but for Adrien…”

Adrien smiled. “I want you to design me a new look. Something we can do here and now—maybe with the discrete help of some of the hotel staff, since they have that nice spa and such. Hair dye, new clothes. Maybe some fake piercings. Oooh, a fake tattoo?”

Jagged glanced at Penny, who looked uncertain about this. “Don’t be a party pooper, Penny.”

“His father might sue you,” she pointed out.

“Like I care. I have money.” He grinned. “And for what? Giving his kid a makeover?”

“French law—”

“Nope, don’t care. It’s happening. Get his sizes and go to my favorite stores. Adrien, what color scheme?”

Adrien blinked. He hadn’t thought that far. He glanced at Marinette. “Um, do you think Chat Noir would mind if I used his colors? I think of him when I think teenage rebellion.”

That was more because being Chat Noir had up to this point been his way of rebelling, but she didn’t need to know that.

To his surprise, Marinette grinned, the smile wide enough to match Jagged’s. “Oh, I like that idea. Chains and spikes? Fake lip ring and septum?”

“Absolutely!”

Jagged made a shooing motion at Penny, who rolled her eyes and headed toward the door, before joining in. “Now how about this idea: black and neon green hair, done to look like a skunk’s stripes!”

Adrien was surprised to find himself laughing honestly at the idea. He’d been so angry less than an hour ago, but this was truly fun. “This makes me think of those J-Rock bands, how they used to dress up.”

Jagged’s phone let out a guitar riff and he glanced at it. “Oh, right. Penny needs your measurements. Shoe size, too. Definitely some stomping boots, I think.”

He handed over his unlocked phone for Adrien to text.

“I’ll call the salon, yeah?”

Adrien nodded, texting the information, then froze. “Wait, Chloé might tell my father.”

That got a laugh. “Nah. They’re discrete. They bring everything up here for me—I won’t be around people if I’m getting my hair dyed.”

While Jagged made the call, Adrien finished the text. When he looked up, Marinette was watching him. She turned pink when she realized he’d caught her.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” she asked after a moment.

He sighed, slumping back on the sofa and resting his hand on Fang’s head again. “No, but I don’t have any better ones. That stupid news claiming I’m with Lila’s going to hit tomorrow. And I’m so done with this, with him treating me like I’m property.”

Marinette looked worried, and he tried to muster up a smile. From her expression, he didn’t manage it.

“Maybe…” she started, then trailed off.

“Maybe?”

She didn’t look at him. “Maybe you should look into laws involving child labor and parental responsibility. You… you might be able to get emancipated.”

That startled him—something he hadn’t even thought of before. He hadn’t even been aware it was an option.

When Marinette did look at him, her eyes were stormy. “He’s so… cruel to you. Maybe there’s legal recourse.”

“I’ll think about it,” he murmured. That seemed like such a drastic measure. “I don’t know if I want to go that far.”

She nodded, and he excused himself to go to the bathroom.

Plagg shot out of his pocket the moment the door was closed. “I’m so proud of you kid. This is gonna be great!”

“Thanks, Plagg.”

The kwami grabbed the proffered wedge of camembert.

“And think about what Pigtails said. Your dad’s a real piece of work, and you deserve better.”

“I will.”

Adrien could feel the idea turning over in his mind, as though gathering strength. When he left the bathroom, Jagged met him excitedly.

“I have just the idea! A temporary face tattoo!”

[daily-dose-of-imagines]

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ Matchup ♥

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:���ﾟ✧

Naruto, One Piece, and Free Match-Up Request

May I request another match-up but for Free, One Piece, and Naruto this time? :) Here’s all my info once more!

Name: Corethra (or Corey for short)

Age: 25

Gender: Female

Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual

Occupation: Hand Packer at an ice cream factory. I work 12 hours (5:30pm to 6am) on a rotating schedule.

Birthplace: Memphis, TN, USA. I was raised in the neighborhood called Frayser which is the most impoverished area in Memphis and has a high crime rate as expected.

Zodiac Sign: Pisces (born March 2) My full birth chart can be found here

Enneagram: 5w6

Chinese Zodiac: Year Of The Pig

MBTI Type: INFJ

Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Hogwarts House: Slytherin

Love Language: Acts Of Service

Race/Ethnicity: African-American

Height: 4'11 (Call me short and I’ll kick your butt!)

Body Type/Shape: Average but well developed figure at best. I weigh about 158 lbs and am pretty insecure about my body. I also have really bad scars on my left arm from being bitten by a dog.

Hair Color/Style: Black and naturally curly but I keep it flat-ironed so it’s straight. It’s long and goes down to just below my shoulder blades. There are times when I will have braids put in of various lengths.

Glasses or No?: Yes I wear glasses

Eye Color: Brown

Dress Style: I usually dress up in a casual way, just throwing on whatever looks good at the time but I will sometimes put in the effort when the time calls for it or when I’m in a good mood. I have an affinity for the punk, emo, and goth styles and I rarely wear feminine clothes but I will wear something risky every once in a while.

Hobbies/Interests: Video games, reading, writing, anime, internet surfing, listening to music, politics (sometimes), watching movies/TV shows, basically being an overall nerd. I’m usually either on my laptop or one of my many video game consoles if I’m not on my phone or reading one of my books.

Dislikes: Ignorance, stupidity, restriction, manipulation/gas-lighting, bullying, humanity, not being understood, corruption/injustice, close-mindedness

Personality: At first glance, I seem quiet and keep to myself, only speaking when I need to or when I’m spoken to. I’m an anti-social introvert to the fullest and don’t care much for small talk or going out. I prefer to have deeper conversations. When I get comfortable enough in whatever environment I’m in, I start to open up bit by bit. I’m a tomboy and pretty rough-minded as well as stubborn. I’m very sassy, have a smart, sarcastic, and witty mouth if not humorous and outrageous at times, can be borderline rude and mean, and I’m more sensitive than I care to be. I can literally cry at someone’s suffering especially if it’s someone I’m close to or even a total stranger. I’m very empathetic and my heart is bigger than what most people would expect. Most people describe me as quiet, intelligent, creative, dorky, a smartass, and really sweet. I love a good laugh and have an open sense of humor to boot.

Many of my friends say that I’m very sweet and kind which I usually am if I’m in a good mood as well as affectionate as hell. Hugs and pet names galore with me! However only my friends and family see that side of me. My language is often unfiltered, harsh, foul, and blunt which shocks people because they think I’m a pure angel. I say what I want when I want and no one tells me otherwise. If they do, they can expect a mouthful from me. I’m an escapist and very imaginative, can be a bit scatterbrained at times, and I’m methodical and detailed to the point of perfectionism. I’m usually a walking contradiction in terms of personality in so many ways to the point where the real me is almost impossible to decipher. To make matters more complicated, I’m not very good at expressing myself verbally and prefer to let my actions do the talking. I also express myself better through written form.

I have many pet peeves and I get annoyed easily in general. I’m also slowly embracing misanthropy and nihilism but I can be pretty idealistic so it balances out. I’m practically zero tolerance when it comes to bullshit. I hate confrontation and conflict but I’m starting to work on it so I can be less passive-aggressive and more assertive. I also wish to stand up for myself more often than I should so people won’t think that I’m weak and an easy target. I’m pretty cynical which is to be expected and usually expect the worst from people. When someone angers me, I will either just withdraw altogether and completely cut them off (slam the door basically) or get in their face and go off before doing the former. I’m the “hold my anger in and release it all at once” type but I hope to change that one day and stop letting things fester before they get out of hand. I can be quite petty and even cold as well and if someone wrongs me, they will have to make the first move to mend fences. I refuse to apologize if I’m not in the wrong and I will not accept gaslighting/guilt tripping. I also refuse to change for others and will admit to having quite a lot of pride but that’s mostly due to me not wanting to be hurt and manipulated, mistreated, or used.

I have issues with trust and a wild imagination to boot. I usually trust my instincts and can see right through bullshit. I don’t like taking risks and I have to know all the details when I do something so I don’t mess up and look like an idiot. I am indeed a perfectionist and introverted to a fault which often prevents me from trying new things and going outside my comfort zone. I haven’t been in a relationship yet and am still a virgin due to my issues with trust and not wanting to be hurt or humiliated as well as being quite picky/perfectionistic with the people I allow in my life. I have high standards for both people and myself although I’m pretty laid-back and my dislike of conflict allows me to also take a lot of shit from people too before I eventually say “fuck it” and slam the door or go off on them. I don’t think very highly of myself and can sometimes fall into a period of self-hatred and self-pity.

Many people praise me for my intelligence which is fitting since I’m an intellectual. My ideals and beliefs are rather odd to say the least (I’m a classical liberal/independent and despise most ideologies/ideas. This includes religion, feminism, social justice, traditionalism, statism, big government, nationalism, socialism/communism, etc.) and I feel misunderstood because of it (mostly because of the black community ostracizing me). I am indeed a rebel, open-minded, and a free thinker. No one tells me how to think or feel or else they face my wrath. I highly value power over myself and I think it’s the most important thing that a person needs in order to survive. I am definitely an outcast at heart and I often distance myself from others and don’t like talking about my feelings or beliefs because I think most people lack the ability/capacity to understand me. Before I give my opinion on something, I like to do as much research as possible as well as look at things from all perspectives before coming to my own conclusion. I don’t mind discussing things but I prefer logic over emotion when doing so which makes it damn near impossible these days for me to have an real conversation without insults and threats being thrown (usually towards me). Chances are I’m gonna find something wrong with damn near anything someone believes in or says and I’m not afraid to call it out when I see it. Once I do open up and express how I feel, the gates of passion will open up and never close. I also have high morals and values and stick to my guns no matter what which can make me pretty stubborn at times.

I’m currently battling depression and often experience many symptoms of it including suicidal thoughts and depression spells. I also suffer from iron-deficiency anemia as well as irregular, prolonged periods. These things are pretty annoying for me to deal with whenever they flare up. 

Overall, I’m pretty crazy and a handful to deal with. Good luck matching me up with someone :P

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Hello @sacredwarrior88 and thank you so much for requesting with us! I am so sorry that this came out so late, but I do hope you enjoy this!

>Admin 𝕋

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

𝐼 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽…

Ace! I feel that you and ace would be such a great couple! He is open minded and kind to others whereas you are the same way! You are passionate like he is, caring like he is, loyal to the bone like he is! He would see you and see your personality and just instantly fall in love you and your personality! Like, I can’t even imagine how much he will want you on his crew, so they he can keep on you and protect you at all times-- though he will soon figure out that you don’t need help, you can take care yourself--which he will find extremely attractive, no doubt about that! 

He will love that fact that you are independent, because he really values individualism and independency, he sees it as a great traits to have. But he will also love the fact that you are sensitive, and can sometimes get into your own  head. He understands that, knows it all too well, so he will try with all his might to try and make sure that you are happy and always smiling! But he will love how fierce you can be to other people, never bowing down to their expectations! 

All in all, I feel like Ace would be a great man for you in the one piece universe! He would be attentive to you, would love your attitude and personality, and would absolutely adore how loyal and strong you are! make sure to love him thoroughly!

Ah, Sai! He is much like Ace, just a little less emotional, which is fine! I feel like you and Sai would make a couple for a couple reasons! He would love how mature you are, and how logical you can be, and-- like ace-- he loves the fact that you are extremely loyal to your friends! That is a true factor in the way he will see you, and it is for the better! He will se how strong you are, emotionally and will be envious and at the same time fascinated! I Feel like Sai will look at you with wide eyes, his breath caught in his throat, his heart beating wildly in his ribcage because he will love you that much! All the things you are interested he will want to hear with enthusiasm, everything you love he will want to learn and hear from you, to get to know you better!

Another thing is that if you were to go to him with your insecurities and how you are battling depression, he will try to understand, and once he does he will try to everything and anything to make sure you feel better! You need a massage? He’s on it! You need cuddles? oh yeah he will give you some! You need chocolate or sweets or anything of the like? He’ll run to the store, and be back 5 minutes tops! 

All in all, I feel like the cool, mature Sai, with a heart of pure gold will be such a good match for you! He will make sure that you uncomfortable with him, he will never want to make you unhappy, and he will definitely do anything i his power to make sure that you will keep on loving him as much as you can!

Rei! Now, with Rei, I wanted to go a more cute route. I feel that Rei would be equal parts and scared and in love with you! He sees how strong you are against people that oppose, he sees how strong you are for your friends, and how you have such a different personality to everybody else around him, and he will immediately fall in with you. Like instantly! To him, you’d be like a beautiful butterfly blooming right in front of him, and he will want to have you all tot himself! Of course, he won’t force you, but he will definitely watch you at a distance longingly!

He is very much an introvert and your calm but strong aura would definitely help with his anxiety! I just see him melting next you, into your lap or shoulder whenever you are around him because he is so comfortable around you. He doesn’t do this with just anybody so it would be a real honor! And when it it comes to your insecurities, he would want to make sure that you know he loves you the way are, and if you were to want to change something about yourself, then he will support you all the way, as long as you are happy! He will just love that you are such a freethinker and so openminded about things, so unlike him!

All in all, I feel like Rei would love you and (somewhat) idolize because you have all these traits that he would love to have. This perfectionist will understand how it feels to be such a perfectionist and will want to help you with that too! He will love to the moon and back(stroke)!

[stutterfly]

Love Bytes 07 | User Privileges | KNJ (M)

Last time on Love Bytes 06: Seokjin gives you an earful before you spend a peaceful evening with Namjoon. You try to convince yourself whatever is happening between you is nothing to think twice about, but you have to reconsider when morning comes. Luckily you’re able to focus your energy on the new matches on your dating app... Or so you think.

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Word Count: 12K

Series: Love Bytes (7/?)

Genre: F2L, fluff, humor, SLOW BURN, friendship feels, ANGST! pining, sexual tension, smut, Bestfriends!au, CollegeProjessor!Namjoon, IT/Nerd!Reader

CW: anxiety, sexual tension, angst, pining, sexual thoughts, language, sexting, grinding, panic attacks (mentioned), reader gets gaslighted, negged, and bullied like this is the 6th grade (verbal abuse by a side character/anatagonist), reader gets dubcon groped (not any of our perfect boys; them and Jennie swing into action), brief homophobic comment by an antagonist, fuckboy Jungkook showing his soft side (s/o to Swipe Right Jungkook; believe in him), alcohol use/mention, best friend Hobi, bestie Jennie, BFFLs to the rescue, protective/jealous Namjoon, soft Namjoon feels, Namjoon about to whoop some jerk’s ass, reader is a Dumb Bitch™ about her feelings and toxic relationship warning signs

Pairings: Namjoon x Reader, brot7 masterlist // previous chapter // next chapter

Do not repost.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You haven’t been able to put down your phone all day. An onslaught of “Super Likes” has you playing the foreign role of an extrovert, acting as peppy as possible to present your “best self” to your potential suitors. By the time your battery percentage is down to single digits, you’re feeling just as drained. You fumble with the charging port near the head of the couch, cheek squishing against the armrest. It’s hard to find the energy to rise. Why is trying to get laid so much work? Jennie made it sound way easier. Keeping your eyes open becomes more of a struggle than it’s worth. No amount of socializing feels as rewarding as letting yourself drift off.

You don’t mean to sleep through several group texts and phone calls, but your phone’s reverberations fall near silent against the back cushion. You might sleep through the night if not for a loud series of loud, familiar knocks on your door.

‘Knock--knock-knock--knock--knock.’

You groan into the air, “Whaaaaaat?”

“Open the dooooor.” Even muffled behind the thick wood, you recognize Hoseok’s nasally whine.

Still half-asleep, you shuffle towards the sound. The deadbolt clicks against the light pressure of your fingertips and yields the shining face of your friend. His grin practically reflects the light of the hall and amplifies its shine. It's almost sickening.

"What, were you sleeping?” He frowns narrowing his eyes at you as he scrutinizes every last detail set in your features. “Were you crying? You’re not still upset about your terrible date, are you?”

You smack his hand away as he fusses with the rat’s nest that is your hair. “No, I’m fine. I’m just exhausted from socializing on Tinder all morning.” You yawn, reaching for your phone. “What time is it anyway?”

“You sound like Yoongi,” he laughs, drawing the curtain across the room to let in some natural light. “Don’t worry. You didn’t sleep through the night. It’s almost two.”

“Oh good, it’s only been a couple hours.” You wince as the room brightens, holding back an annoyed hiss. Soft rain patters against the leaves on the tree outside of your window. Maybe the weather is finally letting up and you can see some real sunshine again sometime soon.

“I just wanted to check in. I know you’re too polite for your own good sometimes.”

You miss the concern in his face as you scan the latest batch of matches that have messaged you since your power nap. There was a guy asking if you wanted to meet for lunch, but you missed the window. He seemed pretty nice so you want to apologize as fast as possible so you don’t seem like a total bitch.

When you don’t even acknowledge Hoseok’s words, his face hardens. “...But not all the time, apparently.”

You look up from the keyboard on your phone, halfway through constructing an apology. Sensing his annoyance at your manners, you turn off the screen and offer a guilty smile.

“I’m sorry, Hobi. Jennie and Tae sent me the photos this morning and--”

His countenance changes in an instant, dropping his pout and grinning like a maniac as he sprints across the room. “What? Really? Let me see!”

He hip checks you into the couch and you both fall to the cushions with a graceless flop. You know you could convince him to drop it if you really wanted to, but a part of you is really enjoying the positive reactions from your matches and the attention is doing wonders for your self-esteem. What’s one more person inflating your ego?

“Oh, just one sec. I want to apologize for ghosting this dude.”

“You ghosted someone?” Hoseok shakes his head in disbelief, throwing his arm around you. “I’m so proud! Did he deserve it? Was it the guy at the coffee shop?”

You snort, fingers tapping your keyboard thoughtfully. “No. There’s this guy I was talking to earlier. He asked me to lunch right after I fell asleep.”

He furrows his brow at you. “I’m not really sure that’s ghosting if you planned on responding.”

Your fingers stop tapping the keyboard and you look up at him. “Oh. Well. I definitely ghosted the coffee guy. Just unmatched and deleted his number.”

“Attagirl.” He grins, playfully nudging his knuckles into your jaw. “So what’s this guy’s name?”

“Mmm. Don’t want to tell you, in case it doesn’t go anywhere,” you mumble, backing out of the conversation.

Hoseok glances down at your screen and raises his eyebrows when he notes all of the conversations you have going simultaneously. “Wow! Someone’s popular.”

“I didn’t expect such a big change once I got the photos. I hate to admit it, but you guys were actually right for once.”

His eyes widen. “Hmm? Say that one more time? Hold on!” He pulls out his phone like he’s going to record the statement and then laughs. “I’m glad you finally see my wisdom. Now gimme.”

He flexes his fingers a few times to make grabby hands at your phone. You navigate to your profile and allow him to peruse at his leisure, nervously micro-analysing his blatant facial expressions. You’re mostly getting a shocked and excited vibe, laced with a hint of pride as he keep repeating “wow” at each new image. Just as he’s moving on to the bikini photo, your cleavage is obscured by a new message.

“Jihoon? Is that your lunch guy?”

“What? He responded? I’ve been cussed out for ignoring a dude for five minutes. They’re usually not so understanding in my experience.”

“Yikes, is that what it’s like for girls?” Hoseok shivers. “On behalf of all men, let me apologize to you.”

“You’re absolved of your guilt for waking me up,” you joke, prodding his side with your finger and giggling when he wiggles away from your touch. “What did he say?”

“He says he still wants to grab a bite with you, if you’re up for it. Ooh he called it a wake up snack with a winky face!” he teases, already bringing up the keyboard to respond for you. “What should we say back? Let’s see… I’m not hungry, but I’ve got a snack for you if you wanna come get it…. Winky-- Hey!”

You snatch the phone back from him, smacking him lightly in the chest. “I’ll figure out something a little less eager, thanks.”

He shrugs. “Suit yourself. I think you should go though.” He’s already removed the scrunchie from your hair and is brushing it with his fingers to retie it. “Nothing like a rebound to get your mind off of things.

“I’m not having sex with him,” you mumble, sending off your response to Jihoon.

“Oh, by the way, we’re meeting up at Seesaw later. You can use that as your out.”

“You gonna buy me drinks this week too?” you ask sweetly, puckering your lips at him.

He scoffs. “Pfft. At Yoongi’s bar? Yoongi’s buying. Now, go put on some clothes that don’t look like you wore them to bed with someone else.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

A points system is something Hobi helped you come up with. You meet up for a snack at a bar and have one drink with him, telling him ahead of time you have dinner plans with friends so he gets the idea right away that your time is valuable. He starts with 100 and you can deduct based on gross mannerisms or behavior.

That way he starts in the positive and only falls to the negative if things go poorly. If he loses enough points, you can end the date by saying you have to get ready because you’re someone’s ride--which is technically true since Namjoon refuses to get his license and you've naturally taken to being his chauffeur.

Now that you're treating dating like a game, it seems like a piece of cake. You can just throw if you've been matched with a shitty teammate. This time you're expecting it. No way are you going to get trapped for 2 hours talking to some dude who doesn't give two fucks about who you are. You’ll probably be back home in no time, eating some of that ice cream still in your freezer and pretending to be interested in some other guy's messages. That's what dating is, right? It's fine. It's a good plan.

You can tell Hoseok and Jin that you made an attempt, are too tired to go out, get drunk alone in your apartment, have a good cry over some self indulgent romantic drama, and pass out with your vibrator cupped in one hand. It definitely sounds like the night of a well adjusted adult with healthy coping mechanisms for rejection, loneliness, and anxiety. It's in your nature to turtle when you feel so shitty about yourself, and your friends know it. You're just hoping they'll accept your excuse of fatigue as a simple fact rather than a disguise for your unhappiness.

There's just one little hiccup you've run into with this foolproof plan. The guy who agreed to meet you for a single drink isn't the one you'd been talking to all morning. He's funnier, twice as handsome, and at least three times more suave than his online persona. Deducting points from someone so charming is proving to be difficult, even after downing a second rum and coke in your haste to work off the genuine butterflies fluttering in your belly.

You can’t get your hopes up. You tell yourself this and yet your brain is ignoring that mantra in favor of bashing you over the head with feelings of excitement, especially when he drops his hand beside yours on the bar. He gently brushes his pinky against the back of yours as he laughs. Suddenly you don’t want this date to end. The smallest touch sets your nerves alight and you’re craving more.

Do you dare to pull out your phone to check the time? Is it rude? You don’t want him thinking you’re not having a good time, but you promised Hoseok that you’d keep it short. It’s a risk you have to take. Pulling the mobile device from your pocket, you try to casually bump the power button to check the time. You bite your lip, realizing you’ve already gone ten minutes past the time you’d decided to end it.

“You sure you can’t stay for another? I’m buying.” The man beside you smiles and playfully bumps his shoulder against yours as his fingers finally curl around yours on the bar. Your gaze is fixed on the motion of his thumb caressing yours.

The breath catches in your throat and you stutter out a flustered laugh. Shy eyes peek up from beneath fallen strands of hair, trying to decide if this is actually happening or if someone is playing a cruel joke on you. His lips part into an amused grin as he tucks the strand behind your ear. His fingers are warm as they lightly trail along the side of your face and instinctively you close your eyes and lean into his touch.

“Mmm,” you hum, losing yourself in the simple sensation of fingertips brushing against your cheek. The comfort the motion brings reminds you of someone else, someone you’ve been feeling incredibly confused about as of late. Panic settles in your belly as you almost say his name. “Na--” you catch yourself and clear your throat.

Trying not to draw attention to your mind’s slip-up, your eyes pop open and settle on the bar as you slink away, nearly falling from the stool as you collect your purse.“N-Nah. I, um, have plans. But, um...”

He curiously cocks his head at you. “Are you okay to drive, lightweight? I can call you a Lyft.”

A nervous laugh passes your lips as you twirl your fingers around the metal ring that houses your keys. “I’ll be okay. Thank you! I’m just! Really clumsy. Sorry. Th-this was nice though. Can we--Can we do this again?”

Shit. Way to sound desperate.

Much to your surprise, Jihoon offers a dimpled smile with a raise of his phone. “Hit me up again, beautiful. Any time. I'll tell them to go easy on the rum next time."

You hesitate on moving in to kiss his cheek and instead decide to nod and spin on your heels, nearly missing the waitress balancing a platter full of food beside you. Adrenaline rushes through you on the walk back to your car, a soft rain dampening your clothes and speckling the screen of your phone as you check your messages.

Hobi: how’s it going?

Hobi: you’ve gone over time Dirty Girl

Hobi: 😂

Hobi: tell me ur alive?

As you settle into the driver’s seat, you fingers are already working to craft a response that might reveal everything that you’re feeling, but nothing you try to say seems to do any justice to it.

You: I survived. SS? :)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Hoseok leans back in his chair, taking in everything you’ve told him with a big grin as he picks at the nachos on the table. “So he didn’t try to kiss you?”

You wrack your brain, which is starting to fill with the haze of alcohol. "No. He held my hand for like half a sec though.”

He snorts, crunching down on a chip. “Risqué. Who would have thought you could be so naughty?”

You roll your eyes, debating on whether or not you should admit why you were able to end the things when you did. You scan the plate of nachos and your jaw tightens, shifting from left to right as you try to reason that you hadn't been thinking of someone else while on your date.

"I mean he might have tried to kiss me if I didn't end things so abruptly," you contemplate aloud with a dramatic sigh. “He was so nice. What if he never wants to see me again? What if I blew it?”

Hoseok is scrolling through your messages with Jihoon, scrunching his nose. “Hmm. Or maybe,” he pauses to flip the screen towards you, “you’re just being silly. What, did you get drunk off one beer again?"

Jihoon: Make it home safe, lightweight?

Your lips curl into a smile reading the message, quickly texting a response.

You: I'm fine lol i told you I wasn't drunk. Sorry if I worried you at all!

Jihoon: oh good guess I can spend the rest of my night thinking about you for other reasons now 😏

Breathing gets a little harder as your heart swells to your brain and turns it to mush.

"Damn this guy's smooth," Hoseok murmurs as you set the phone down on the table, feeling completely dumbstruck.

"What do I say?" you ask, suddenly unable to form a coherent thought. Panic bubbles deep in your belly. There’s no doubt in your mind whatever you say will make this guy never speak to you again and you actually maybe kind of enjoyed his company.

Hoseok drums his fingertips on the table, a devilish grin spreading across his features as he begins to walk them towards your phone. “I can type out something for you.”

He bursts out laughing as you quickly snatch the device, sending off a simple blushing smiley.

“Bo-ring,” he sings into the rim of his glass, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Just as he’s putting his drink down, you’re bringing yours to your lips. “So does this mean you’re not sleeping with Namjoon anymore?”

A cough sputters from your mouth. Your drink comes dribbling out from between your lips like a boozy waterfall and ice cubes plop back into the nearly empty glass. “Namjoon told you?!”

‘Wha?” He raises his eyebrows, mouth hanging open. “For real?!”

Oh no. Oh. Nononononono.

“Not! Like that!”

He saw Namjoon coming out of your apartment this morning, but he failed to mention any recent developments. What’s he at, two weeks now? He can’t have confessed, but it’s clear that something has happened. Did he make a move? Did you?

A smug grin splits his face in two, as he plants an elbow on the table and rests his chin on his palm. For some reason the only thing playing in your brain as he stares at you like this is a quote from Spongebob Squarepants: ‘You like Krabby Patties, don’t you Squidward?’

“Stop looking at me like that!”

He continues to stare at you with his accusatory grin and you feel yourself cracking under the pressure.

“Hoseok!”

Silently waiting, he does a slow blink and lets out a lofty sigh full of longing.

“I--! We--! Slept. Literally slept. Not. Dirty,” you panic, trying to fix the mess you’ve made. Here you are telling Hoseok after making Namjoon promise to forget, to not say anything himself. You’re a filthy hypocrite. You only maybe planned on telling Jennie. Maybe. Because chances are she’d be looking at you the same way Hoseok is right now and you’re not sure you can handle the mortifying experience twice.

You drop your forehead to the table hard enough to rattle the plates and cups on the table. Hoseok cringes and reaches out to place a comforting hand on your back but then thinks better of it and awkwardly pats your head instead.

Your voice is muffled as you wrap your arms around your face. “We didn’t have sex. We were just sleeping in the same bed. Please don’t make it into something it’s not.”

He polishes off his drink and looks down at you. Something it’s not? It’s definitely something that should be. You idiots are so close to being everything you both want to be for each other, and yet for some reason you refuse to accept it as the truth. If you’re sleeping in the same bed, regardless of whether you're feeling each other up or if it really is just innocent cuddling, you’re already in too deep to call yourself ‘just friends.’

You narrow your eyes at him when he rolls his. It seems like admission is still a topic to be avoided.

“Fine,” he huffs, feigning indifference. “I was just hoping for some drama.”

Namjoon better get his shit together soon. You might actually see this smooth-talking person again. If he’s as charming as he seems, he’ll have you falling for him in no time. Hoseok contemplates whether or not the guy is just fishing for casual sex with an easy target, but he doesn’t know enough about Jihoon to say for sure. But you? As big as you talk, you’re soft. Squishy, inside and out. Either way Namjoon will be crushed; there’s no way around that. But the last thing Hoseok wants is to see is not just one, but two of his friends heartbroken.

“Don’t say anything. Please,” you beg, reaching for the hand resting on the back of your scalp and fixing your gaze on the table. The sound of desperation seems to confirm there’s more at play than friends snuggling up in the same bed. He wordlessly curls his fingers around yours, giving them a squeeze, which causes you to look up.

“I won’t say a word. Who do you think I am: Jimin?”

It feels like he’s opening the curtains in your apartment to let the sunshine in all over again when he smiles and you can’t help but let the silent giggles break your nerves down.

Familiar hands press down on your shoulders, giving them a gentle rub. “Damn. Drunk already, Geeksquad?”

You can’t help but straighten your spine and slink back into the motion, despite the fresh briar of worry prickling your insides. Are things weird? You feel like things are weird. You try to make sense of the confusion blossoming with your nerves, but fuck, it feels so good when he does that. “No…mmm.”

You melt into the man at your back and are met with a familiar dimpled smile. The anxiety in your stomach disperses as quickly as it came on. Hoseok watches in silence with pursed lips that threaten to curl into a smile. You guys are morons. The way you’re looking at each other is almost sickening; it’s like you’re the only two people in the room. Something has definitely evolved in your relationship, but it’s not enough. Not yet. He’s never wanted to smush two people’s heads together so badly.

Hoseok clears his throat and stands, pinching your arm as he passes by you. “I’m gonna get another drink.”

You smooth your palm over the tender flesh, wrenching yourself away from the hypnotic pull of the man behind you as you down your backwashed drink. He lets his hand linger on your shoulder as he slides into the chair beside you. Suddenly all you can think about is how good those hands felt holding you steady as he rutted his hips against your ass. You swallow, casting your gaze at the table while trying to push the memory from your brain. The harder you try, the more you remember. Moaning and grinding your ass back into him. The growl in his throat. The frantic panting in your ear.

He leans in, a familiar concern evident in his hushed tone. “Everything okay?”

No.

“Yeah.”

You wilt under his skeptical eyes, shifting your attention to the glass you’re now sliding back and forth between your hands.

“You sure?” he asks, letting his thumb trail down your arm

You try to remember to breathe, not wanting to draw attention to the flustered heat in your chest. It’s easy to attribute the inappropriate thoughts to your conversation with Hobi. He brought it up and he doesn’t even know. Not really. And now it’s all you can think about.

“No.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, brow furrowing.

Yes.

When you don’t answer, he rests his elbow on the table and uses his palm to support his head. “Office hours are closed but Namjoon’s therapy hours are open.”

I want you to come home with me again so we can dry hump like we’re teenagers. You wish you had a shock collar for your thoughts. Stop. This is Namjoon.

You shake your head and force a guilty smile as you meet his gaze. Regret courses through your stomach, causing it to do somersaults. You can tell he spent way longer styling his hair than he would have you believe, but you’d be lying if you said he didn’t do a great job. It’s surprising he would let it get so long in such humid weather, but the ashy brown color compliments his dark eyes well and you hate to admit he looks rather attractive with it falling over his forehead like this. It just looks so…

Pullable.

You want to twist your fingers in it and draw him in. Your tongue pokes the inside of your cheek and you scold yourself, squashing the thoughts before they can take over. Think about something else.

Easier thought than done. Your brain has moved onto another target, focusing on the muscular forearm supporting his head. Has he really been working out? In his current position, the shadowy contours sculpted into his flesh seem more prominent than usual. It’s like you’re seeing them for the first time. The loose tanktop hanging around his torso probably has something to do with it. Your eyes linger far too long on a brown nipple poking out from behind the thin fabric.

He raises his eyebrows, watching your eyes wander everywhere but his face. You’ve been silent too long, but every thought in your mind threatens to spill out. You clear your throat, forcing your eyes to rest on his face. Anything is better than the hesitation heavily seated on your tongue.

“I had a date today.” Of course the first thing that comes out is just a complicated addition to the stockpile of conflict in your gut.

He does his best to remain stoic, despite the tendrils of hurt creeping up his chest. It's easier to mask the pain as surprise. "Oh? For real?"

"He seemed okay." You nod. "I didn't even spill anything on myself this time."

"Wow," he chuckles, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Look at you, all grown up."

“Yeah. I put my bra on by myself and everything,” you joke, oblivious to Hoseok’s approach.

His hands reach around your sides, planting two drinks on the table. One looks suspiciously like something you would drink and the other is most definitely beer.

“Wow, what did I miss?” Hoseok asks, hugging you from behind. Any excuse to tease you is a good one, especially knowing there’s something going on between you and Namjoon. His fingers walk up your arms and tussle your hair.

Namjoon watches your expression morph into embarrassment and graciously brings the beer to his lips. You’re so cute when you’re flustered. Warm butterflies attempt to extinguish the inky tendrils of despair using his heart as a vice grip. Again he had his chance to confess this morning, and again he didn’t. And now you’re here running through the details of your date with someone else. It would be selfish to tell you now, wouldn’t it? It’s just something he’ll have to deal with.

Hoseok watches his friend’s eyes drop to the table as you prattle on about your date. While you’ve known Namjoon for a little longer than a year, Hoseok’s been friends with him for much longer. Maybe that’s why you can’t see it: the hopeful light being sucked from Namjoon’s eyes even as he hangs on your every word. Because he’s so in love with you, he’ll listen to anything you have to say, even if it’s about your attraction to someone else.

Hobi pinches your sides, shifting the focus of the conversation to his grabby little crab fingers and how much you hate them. He mocks you, dodging your playful smacks to his ribs. If the opportunity arises to spare Namjoon from another second of heartbreak, he’ll take it. He knows Namjoon never will, no matter how much it hurts.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The work week passes quickly. Things almost feel normal again. It probably helps that you made a point not to get sloppy drunk, you didn’t kiss Jimin, and you didn’t invite Namjoon back to your place for another dry-humping session disguised as platonic cuddling. But there’s this nagging feeling in the back of your head, constantly reminding you that you liked it. Try as you might to deny it, nothing sounds more appealing than the safety and warmth of his arms.

Instead you’re rolling against the cold sheets of your bed, trying to will yourself to get up. Again you’ve been dreaming about him. Again you tell yourself it’s just sexual frustration latching onto a familiar face. And again you stare at the ceiling, entirely unconvinced that there isn’t something more to it. You wish you invited him over again this weekend. You missed how good it felt to have him at your back, sliding his fingers along your arms until you fell asleep.

You talk to him every day and yet you’re still itching for more, looking for any excuse to talk to him, hoping he’ll break something that you’ll have to come fix since he hasn’t all week. It’s strange. So roll onto your side, face smushed into the pillow as you send him a text.

You: i heard u say u were gonna buy me coffee today. That’s so nice bae 😍

You wait a few minutes before the dots appear on screen.

Joonie: You are literally the worst. My alarm was just about to go off. 

You: 🙂

You: u gonna tho

Joonie: Buy your own damn coffee

You: WOW RUDE 😭i just wanted a little succ

You: of the

You: caffiENE

Joonie: Why are you like this?

You: because ur my favorite person

Joonie: ….

He sends a meme from Spongebob where a fish is extending its neck with a judgemental stare.

Joonie: You don’t have to butter me up to get free coffee. Just text me your order

You: ashkfls;adsfkshfk ok ok gimme a sex

You: SEC

Joonie: 🙄

Talk about Freudian slip. You pause, considering what kind of coffee mood you’re in today. Bitter espresso or sugary sweet?

You: Vanilla iced coffee with one sugar pump please

Joonie: aight stop by my office. I’ve been having trouble connecting to the printer but no one has come to check it out

You: did u set up a ticket?

Joonie: Of course. I guess no one is as competent as you 

You: kiss ass

Joonie: 😘

You roll your eyes, close out the conversation, and purse your lips before setting the phone down. Your latest dream resurfaces in your brain, straddling Namjoon’s torso as he leans you back over his desk and peppers your chest with kisses. Again you tell yourself it’s not about Namjoon, but the thirst associated with the drought of your sex life. Running your fingers down your torso, you start trying to work off some of the residual tension from your dreams.

Conflicted doesn’t even begin to describe your feelings. Confused doesn’t cover it either. You’d already met up with Jihoon again for a serious competition of indoor minigolf followed by a casual fast food dinner. Even then you found yourself thinking of one lanky professor, his dimpled smile replacing Jihoon’s every time he laughed. It’s why you didn’t take him up on the offer to return to his place. That and the fear of potentially being murdered.

You don’t want to have sex with someone when you don’t feel safe, but you consider ways to combat that that feeling for the next one. Maybe bringing him to your place is safer. After all, Yoongi and Hoseok are just down the hall. They’d be sure to check in on you if they knew you had company. People have sex with strangers all the time. It’s not that complicated. Why are you making it into such a big deal?

You can’t help but feel a little guilty. Things have been progressing with him pretty fast, but you have plenty of other offers to meet up with guys that you just haven’t jumped on. It’s kind of overwhelming now. Maybe you should call this dating thing off until your figure out what the hell is going on with your brain.

Or maybe you should just focus on masturbating instead of the confusing guys lighting up the switchboard of your brain. As you reach for your phone and start typing in the familiar web address of your favorite porn site, a photo message from Jihoon appears. You wonder what kind of meme he’s stolen from twitter this time. Carefully, you pause your search in favor of opening his message. It’s definitely not the meme you were looking for.

What you do see is a whole lot of skin along with a carefully placed kissy emoji over his crotch and a “good morning” text accompanying the image. You swallow hard, allowing yourself to be a creep for half a second. You spread your fingers across the screen to zoom in, taking in the sight of the rippled shadows lining his stomach.

You: 😵 

You: im dead sorry we cant see each other anymore

Jihoon: 😂 sorry was that too much?????

You want to say no, but your belly does somersaults at the prospect of sending your own crafted picture as a response. It takes some finagling but you finally manage a shot with your arm wrapped around your chest at the perfect angle. No rolls showing, just a set of perfectly pouty lips, slanted jaw, and a great shot of cleavage. You know it’s taken you far too long to respond and you’re only slightly panicked as you scramble to send the photo over.

You see texts fly in from Namjoon and Jihoon and you swipe to close out the conversation with Namjoon. You quickly attach your photo and hit send, hoping Jihoon will feel rewarded for his patience. But your stomach sinks like a stone has been dropped into it. Your image doesn’t appear in the string of messages with him.

Jihoon: Left you speechless, huh?

You: JUST A BIT I NEED TO GO

You don’t give him a chance to respond or sass you for potentially getting off to that pic. You know how your statement reads, but you can’t be bothered to care with the other thought on your mind. Quickly navigating to your conversation with Namjoon, you wince, seeing the previous message he sent with the image you intended for another recipient.

Joonie: Whipped cream?

And there’s the risqué image.

If you ignore it, will he pretend he never got it? Or should you apologize right now and purge the view of the image by sending a billion texts? You decide on the latter, trying to perform damage control. He laughs it off and sends off a joke about just wanting a yes or no along with a few sickly emojis. You still feel terrible. How many times can you fuck up with him in one month? You’re surprised he still agrees to be your friend.

Hanging your head, you forgo touching yourself in favor of a cold shower.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

By the time your get to his office he’s just setting two cups on his desk and shrugging off his long trenchcoat. His back is to you as you attempt to quietly slink in, but he turns to hang the damp piece of clothing on the rack to your left. You freeze like a deer in headlights, but his eyes soften.

“Mornin’ Geeksquad.”

“Good morning,” you sheepishly mumble, shrugging off your own damp hoodie.

The shirt you’ve chosen today is a flowy button-up blouse, which is a step up from the t-shirts you normally wear. Paired with the form-fitting slacks and makeup you took painstaking attempts to apply this morning, you feel confident that you’re at least somewhat stylish, even if you’re not on Namjoon’s level.

“You…” He tries to remember what words are as his eyes roam over your form. Noticing the top two buttons of your blouse are undone, he clears his throat and tries to push the photo from this morning from his mind, but it keeps coming back. “You look really nice today.”

You smile, folding your arms over your chest as he noticeably stiffens, fumbling with his words.

“I mean, you look nice every day. But, ah…. This-This outfit looks good on you. Really good.”

He rubs the back of his neck and you relish in the appreciation he offers, even if he’s a mess about it. Your cheeks are on fire and you giggle, finding your heart jumping at the way he stammers his way through the conversation.

Why are you acting so shy? You love it when he loses composure. You swallow, allowing yourself to embrace the heat in your belly. Isn't this exactly why you started dressing up more at work?

Pushing the demon on your shoulder back into the floating expanse of your stomach, you press your lips together in a thin line, trying to hide the grin threatening to show off the teeth you've recently started whitening.

“And you’re waiting… For the uh…. The computer. Printer. Thing. Of course. Hold up. Let me log in.”

He crosses the room and sits in his chair, eager to focus on something other than your gorgeous face and distracting body since it's clear you're feeling yourself today. You plop down in the cushioned chair on the other side of his desk and rest your neck on the back of the chair to stare at the ceiling. He focuses on the screen, slowly typing his password and trying his best not to look past his monitor at you. He begins twirling a pencil between his fingers to keep himself from fidgeting.

While he had tried to make you feel better about the accidental photo, it was just another thing piled on to your interactions lately that have been making it harder and harder to keep his feelings to himself. Was it really an accident? Maybe you’re just testing the waters. After everything that’s happened, he’s not sure what to think. Everything feels too coincidental to be anything other than pure attraction flying between the two of you. But if that were true, you’d have asked him to spend the night again.

He was hoping for it, hoping for another chance to make his move. This time he’d be sure to lock the door and switch your phone volume to silent. This time he’d buy you a dozen misfit roses with a billion thorns. This time he had it planned out: flowers, dinner, movie, and confess with a kiss.

After hearing about your first date with this Jihoon guy, he decided he was going to suck up his insecurities and finally go for it. It was bad enough when he thought you’d end up with Jimin, but the thought of losing you to a stranger is far worse than he could have imagined. But the weekend passed without invitation and his courage waned as soon as it was clear he would have to initiate.

Thinking about it and actually doing it are two different things. What if he messed things up? Time already appeared to be running out when Hoseok had given him a deadline to confess by, but with your new dating developments, time seemed to be slipping through his fingers even faster than before. His hesitation helps nothing.

His stomach lurches as he considers the ramifications of the image you sent this morning. If you didn’t mean to send it to him, then it must have been meant for Jihoon. Are you really already exchanging nudes with this other guy? Has he seen all of you? Has he already lain with you? Filled the space in your bed? In you? Maybe Jihoon is the only one he knows about. What if you’re talking to even more people and that photo was for someone you haven’t even mentioned yet?

The pencil in his hand splinters into pieces with a loud crack and your head snaps up to look in the direction the sound came from.

“What was that?”

“Uh… Just me being the God of Destruction.” He rises motions for you to take his place in the chair as he pockets the fragments of the broken pencil.

You shake your head, grabbing your drink as you circle the desk and get comfortable in his chair. “You’re hopeless.”

Navigating the network doesn’t take very long. It just looks like a missing password to connect to the printer’s address. Huh. You don’t remember updating anything. Maybe your coworkers reset it. Regardless, it’s an easy fix. You take a sip through your straw and slam the cup down on the desk.

Suddenly your dream is on vivid display in your head and you freeze as you stare at the smooth, dark surface of the polished woodgrain. The sound of his balls slapping your ass echoes in your ears. You can see the scenario, clear as day. He grips your hips and fucks himself into your tight cunt, tits bouncing in his face as he sucks a hardened nipple into his mouth, praising you for your tightness, how you squeeze him, how you take him so well like the dirty slut you ar--

His hands come down on your shoulders. “Hey. You okay?”

Blood rushes in your ears and you shake the daydream off. You really need to stop watching naughty teacher porn but it’s always on the first page. You tell yourself it has nothing to do with Namjoon and everything to do with laziness. The problem with that is you’re usually very particular about the videos that you watch. Can you fully attribute it to laziness when this is the type of thing you found yourself skipping over just a few months ago? Don’t dwell on it, you tell yourself, continuing typing where you left off.

“Sorry, just… spaced out,” you mumble, leaning back in the chair as you finish up. “There. Should be all set.”

He allows his gaze to drop down past the two open buttons and straight to your breasts, perfectly nestled against the silky black material of your bra. His eyelids flutter and he licks his lips, hoping you don’t notice what a creep he’s being right now. How much spank bank material can he collect in one day?

“Do you want to test it?” you ask, quickly rummaging through the millions of icons on his desktop for any word document.

His breath hitches as you hover over one labeled ‘Draft_Trivia_L,’ double clicking it without a second thought. His hand catches your wrist and he spins you to face him as the document opens.

“You can’t just open things. That’s private!” he flares, heat building in his face. His gut fills with immediate regret.

You blink a few times and look down at your lap, feeling rather foolish. You’ve never seen him snap like that; it must really important. Regardless of your friendship, you know better as a professional. Your gut tumbles in endless circles. Just knowing you’ve upset him on top of everything else you’ve fucked up with your friendship has your mind heavy with guilt.

“I’m really sorry. I should have asked first,” you murmur, feeling like you’re about to cry. You’re not a child. You can handle being scolded when you’ve done wrong, even though it sucks. But this is different. He’s never gotten even remotely angry at you before. And you’ve never wanted crawl into to the server room and volunteer the remainder of your week sorting cables, but there’s a first time for everything.

The hands at your wrists fall to his sides and his expression softens. Before he can offer the apology on the tip of his tongue, you rise and head straight for the door.

“Test it out and let helpdesk know if it’s working.”

Just as you grab the handle and pull open the door, his hand pushes the heavy panel back in place with a click. You turn around, your back resting against the door, but he keeps his arm steady, hovering over you in a way that makes your heart race, despite the turmoil churning in your tummy.

“Wait. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap,” he says in a gentle tone. “It’s just… that particular document is… very personal. It’s--”

“You don’t have to tell me,” you say in a quiet voice. “I fucked up. I’m supposed to let you drive after I fix stuff. I’m not supposed to touch anything other than what’s broken.”

“You know I don’t have a license,” he jokes, earning a soft laugh from you. He sighs. “Remember how I told you about that one student? Well it turns out they really resonated with our poetry studies. They told me it reminds them of something they like to do for fun.” He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck.

“They like to freestyle rap. Do tons of underground competitions, that kind of thing. So I’ve been working with them on bridging the gap between literature, poetry, and rap. And that document you opened… I’m trying my hand at it to lead by example. I want to share it with you, but it’s... not done and it’s a mess I’m still working through. But I promise I will let you see it when it’s done.”

“I’m sure it’s amazing. You’re a genius,” you admit with a shrug of your shoulders. “You have a way with words unlike anyone I’ve ever met. Don’t feel like you have to show me anything, Namjoon. You’re not obligated to.”

He scoffs, relaxing his posture to pinch the bridge of his nose as the compliment starts to sink in. Did you just acknowledge his sexy brain? He can’t help but grin like an idiot as he shakes his head. “I have to show you. It’s actually… I kind of wrote it about… I mean, for you.”

Your eyes widen, curiosity bubbling in your chest. “M-Me?”

What the hell could he possibly have to say about you that could turn into a literary piece to lead by example?

“Yes. You.” He takes a sip of the beverage in his hand before thrusting it in your direction. “You know what? I don’t actually hate that.”

“I know. You have a sweet tooth,” you giggle, swiping your finger across the whipped cream covering the tip of his nose.

You take your finger into your mouth and lick it clean. He watches you with hungry, longing eyes, replacing your finger with something else in his mind. He quickly covers the look with a sigh, gathers your coat from the rack nearby and throws it over your head, shielding himself from your teasing actions. You scramble to regain your field of vision and grin at him as he sits down at his desk again.

You turn to finally leave again, this time in much better spirits. “I’ll talk to you later, Joonie.”

“Geeksquad,” he calls, causing you to pause. “We’re good, right?”

You rest your face on the doorframe as you peer back at him with a shy, slightly smooshed grin. “Of course. As long as you don’t hate me for the million ways I mess up.”

He chuckles, warm dimpled smile gracing his features. “Never.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Thursday night. Finally. You sit on your couch legs propped up over Jennie’s lap, finding some time to catch up with your bestie. She passes the bowl of popcorn over to you, engrossed in the comedy-drama you’ve been binging for the last couple hours. When you shake your head and push the bowl back in her direction, she looks over at you.

“What’s wrong.” It’s a demand, not a question.

“Why would you think anything’s wrong?” you ask defensively, already feeling like you’re about to cry.

“Because I know you, you dumb bitch,” she responds with the love of someone who has definitely seen you at your worst. “Also your leg has been bouncing for the last ten minutes and if you had to pee you would just get up.”

Immediately you halt the motion you hadn’t realized you’d been making. “Jihoon wants to meet up again this week.”

“Wow. Does that make date three? Bow-chicka-wow-wow,” she jokes, causing your feet to rise as she bumps her hips up and down.

You swipe at the air and roll your eyes. “Please, like he wants to.”

She scoffs, stuffing her mouth full of popcorn. “Didn’t you say he tried to get you back to his place after the last one? Dude def wants to bang it out.”

You twiddle your fingers nervously. “Do you think I should?”

“What, fuck him?” she asks, blinking at you as though she’s carefully analyzing your body language through the fluttering of her eyelids.

You slowly nod, puffing your cheeks out and letting air slowly escape the little ‘o’ you’ve made with your mouth. “I already told him I would get drinks with him and I’m nervous about taking things further after.”

“Y/N, honey, why are you asking me? I’m not gonna do it for you. Do you want to fuck him?”

“I don’t know…” You rub your forehead nervously, looking back at the television. “But I think it might take my mind off of some things.”

“Like...?” she prods, realizing there’s something else you’re on the verge of needing to get out, but you need a teensy push to get there.

You purse your lips and stare up at the ceiling, trying to figure out a way to make it sound less crazy than the bottled up way it’s consuming your thoughts.

“When I’m with him... I can’t stop thinking about Namjoon,” you say quietly, feeling lightheaded just from having said it out loud. You said the words. You admitted it’s a thing. Now what? Jennie will know what to do.

“Ew,” she says out of instinct, knowing anytime she’s broached the subject of you getting together with Namjoon you’ve made gagging sounds. But when she sees the horror on your face, she pauses. “Oh, are we not at ew anymore? Are you finally cool with me saying he’s fine as hell? You feeling a little change, babe?”

“I don’t know what I feel. But it’s not ew. Not even close. I keep having these…” you pause and look at the unlocked door, wondering if there are any ears listening on the other side. Your voice drops to a whisper and you lean in. “I keep having these dreams where he’s… you know?”

“Oh, okay,” she says with a nod, not quite understanding what you’re getting at, but trying to be a good friend by agreeing anyway. She plants her elbow on the back of the couch and rests her cheek on her palm. “But like… how do you mean?”

Your eyes look everywhere but at her face. “You know…”

“Oh?” Her eyebrows furrow and it’s not until you make a crude circle with your hand and poke a finger through it a few times that her eyes light up with understanding. Her voice takes on a surprised tone. “Oh!” She pushes your legs off her lap, pauses the show, and scooches closer. “Okay. Wow. This is really happening. Finally. Details. Spill it.”

With a groan, you recount every last thing you can remember about the time you’ve spent with Namjoon in the last few weeks, everything from toilet hair to the most recent photo mishap. When you’ve finished, Jennie sighs loudly.

“I take off for like a week and this is what happens. I love you, but you are a serious fucking mess.” You’ve just been fanning the flames of the torch he’s been carrying for you. No wonder it’s all coming to a head like this. She’s surprised Namjoon hasn’t caved and finally confessed already. Isn’t he ready to blow at this point? She stifles a giggle at the double entendre.

“I know.” You stare at the ceiling, hands folded over your lap. “So what do I do?”

“Okay. Let me get this straight. You’ve slept in the same bed, cuddled, flashed him, almost made out with him, humped him, sent him a nude, you’re having sex dreams about him aaaaand you’re thinking about him while you’re on dates with other people… And you’re asking me what to do? You know what to do. Just bang it out already,” she says, clapping her hands together on the last few syllables to emphasize her point.

“Obviously there’s something there. So why don’t you just test the chemistry? You guys might be surprisingly compatible.”

You shake you head and run your fingers through your hair. “I can’t risk his friendship. I’ve fucked up so much already. Like what if we do it and he’s like… cool let’s not ever again. And then he tells me our friendship is over.”

“He won’t,” she groans, tossing one of the throw pillows at you. “Stop being dumb.”

“But…” Your mind races as you consider every last thing that could go wrong, hugging the pillow to your chest. “Jennie, I’m too scared to lose him. I can’t.”

Her brow knits in concentration. Your fears are understandable, but she knows you can be happy with him if you just open up to the possibility, especially since you’ve become such good friends in such a relatively short amount of time. But she also knows pushing you too hard too fast will make you clam up. You may not be willing to address what you feel, but at least there’s admission of some kind of feeling. That’s progress.

“So where do we go from here, Y/N? What are you doing?”

You wish you had an answer. “I… I’m calling Firewall on this. Right now. Namjoon keeps me in line with everyone else. You keep me in line with him.”

Jennie swallows, her heart breaking for you both as she nods. “Okay. If that’s what you want,” she agrees softly.

“It is,” you say, voice already full of uncertainty.

You have a date tomorrow night with Jihoon and you’ve decided you are going to stop thinking about Namjoon for the entirety of it. For the sake of your friendship and your sanity. You have to keep things simple and divided. So why does it feel like that’s way too easy of an answer?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Jihoon is way better at dancing than you are, which doesn’t come as a surprise, honestly. What you do find shocking is the blatant boner you feel poking against your ass as he guides you across his hips and the filthy things he whispers into the slope of your neck. Clearly he uses dancing as an excuse to cop a feel, but the butterflies in your stomach and the heat in your cheeks tell you you’re okay with that. You shyly reach up to cradle your fingers around the back of his head, breath staggered as you slowly lean back to press your lips to his. His jaw is stiff, but his lips are big and soft and it’s easy enough to substitute the person you’re craving without a second thought. Fireworks explode in your brain, blocking off all possible hangups about the action.

As he brings his hands up to your chest, giving your tits a rough squeeze, you come crashing back down. Fuck. You had one job tonight. Firewall, remember? Your eyes shoot open and you’re left with a suffocating swarm of bodies around you and hands that feel constricting. It’s too much. You need air. You need air and space around you to figure this out.

You grab his hands and move them back to an innocent place on your hips. “I’m gonna get another drink,” you say, desperate to escape this place you suddenly feel trapped in.

He allows you to slip through his sweaty fingers and disappear into the crowd.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Namjoon says, unable to take his eyes off the way you’re moving with the man at your back. Is this his fate: destined to watch you grind your body on someone else?

Jennie, Jungkook, and Tae exchange worried looks. Hoseok just scoffs as he peers through the glass railing across the sea of writhing bodies.

“I know. What kind of dancing is that? It’s like she can’t remember anything I taught her. Crescent moon shapes. CRESCENT.” He grunts in frustration and drags his hand down his chin. “I’m gonna have an aneurysm.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, leaning back in his chair and placing his arms out around the back of Jennie and Jungkook’s chairs. “Of course that’s what you would see.”

She grumbles as Tae manspreads, knocking her knee with his. She settles for the way his fingers trail feather light touches at her back.

“Namjoon, you didn’t have to come,” she says sympathetically. “I just wanted to keep an eye on her just in case… I’m sorry. I know you guys think I’m crazy. But like… I’ve been with crazy. And if that experience has taught me anything, it’s to trust my gut.” She pats her stomach a few times and takes a small sip of her drink. “And my gut says don’t trust a hoe you don’t know, especially with your bestie.”

“That’s exactly why I had to come,” he sighs.

Touche, she thinks.

Suddenly you’re moving in a slow, sweet way that Jennie recognizes as your telltale shy kiss. As much as she likes the feeling of Tae’s fingers dancing with the ends of her hair, she stands and takes Namjoon’s hands, pulling him from his seat. She can hear Tae’s grumbly protests as she moves away, but it doesn’t matter. She’d really like to spare Namjoon the heartbreak of watching the person he loves kiss someone else.

“Joonie. Get up. Switch places with me. Come on.”

Her act of heroism comes too late. He falls back into his chair with his jaw hanging open, unable to stomach the sight. So he forces his eyes to focus on the ambient lights dangling from the ceiling. It's stupid. You're not even his, so why did that feel like getting punched in the gut? He closes his eyes and swallows the growing lump in his throat. Get it together.

Jungkook grimaces at Hobi, mouthing the words ‘what do we do?’ Hoseok looks from Jungkook to Namjoon, and then down to the floor where you’re prying Jihoon’s hands away from your chest and shying away. Squinting to get a better view of your form, he realizes you’re not just slinking away, you’re running away.

Hoseok rises, dragging his dejected friend to his feet. "Hey, let's get you something stronger than a ginger ale. Up! Up! Time to get our bodies moving. Things will be okay!"

Hoseok jerks his head in the direction he saw you running off to, making eye contact with Jennie. "Y/N is obviously okay! So let's not have wasted this time sulking when we could be getting endorphins going."

Jennie cocks her head to the side as she stands and peers over the rail, trying to discern whatever information Hoseok wanted to relay. Then she sees it: the distant form sneaking into the bathroom.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Namjoon groans as he leans his elbows on the bar. “You know what, I’m starting to think this wasn’t such a good idea. She’s obviously safe and happy. Can you please drop me off at home?”

Hoseok is looking past Namjoon, squinting into the crowd as though looking for something in particular. “You know this is your last weekend to confess before I tell her for you, right?”

“Hey. Don’t complicate her life. She’s got someone now. I appreciate the push, but it’s done. There’s nothing else to--”

“Hey isn’t that the guy?” Hoseok interrupts, hastily thrusting a pointed finger just in front of his friend’s nose.

Namjoon’s gaze follows Hoseok’s fingertip to Jihoon on the other side of the bar, putting his hands around some other girl’s waist and burying his face into her neck as they grind on one another.

“What the fuck?” Namjoon breathes.

His feet are moving without provocation and before he knows it, he’s angrily wrenching the couple apart. “Are you fucking serious right now?”

“Dude what the fuck? Do I know you?” Jihoon blinks, giving him a shove.

Namjoon’s shoulder dips back, but his stance is firm. He drags his lip through his teeth, a manic grin threatening to spread through if he doesn’t keep his jaw tight. “Try that shit again. I dare you. I will lay you out.”

The girl he was dancing with grimaces and quickly backs away, sensing the danger in this situation. Jungkook is waiting. He catches her wrist and spins her gracefully into his arms.

“Careful, gorgeous. Don’t want you mixed up in whatever that is, hmm?” he says, brushing the hair from her face with featherlight touches that contrast the solid mass of his body pressed against her side. “Don’t you want to dance with me instead?”

She looks like she’s about to slap him for a fraction of a second, but melts into a puddle as soon as she meets those big brown eyes. She weakly allows him to lure her away from the squabbling men.

“Maybe…”

“Hah. Well then. Maybe I’ll let you,” he teases, poking his tongue into the side of his cheek and disappearing into the crowd with her hot on his heels.

Jihoon’s jaw grows taut with annoyance as he watches his target slip away. He scoffs. “What the fuck is your problem with me? I don’t know you. Get lost.” He clicks his tongue and mutters, “fucking punk.”

“You’re here with Y/N and you’re out here feeling up other girls. That’s my problem with you.”

“Pfft. That’s what this is about? What are you, her boyfriend? Or do you just have white knight syndrome? Look, I don’t care what you guys are. Everybody has a side piece. Why are you being so judgemental?”

Namjoon’s concentrated brow briefly transforms into confusion, causing his response to die on the tip of his tongue. Jihoon catches the panic before he can turn his face to stone.

“Oh, that’s not it is it? I see how it is now. You’re stuck in the friend zone.” Jihoon lets out a smug laugh. “Are you stalking her? You must have seen our kiss. Tell me. How badly do you wish you were me?”

Namjoon feels like his teeth are going to break if he keeps grinding them together like this, but it’s all he can do to keep himself from unloading on this guy.

“Heh. Judging from your silence, pretty fucking badly. How long have you waited? Months? Years? Be honest. It drives you crazy knowing that I’m going to have her tonight, doesn’t it?”

“You don’t deserve her,” he spits back, unable to hold the jealous venom from his tone. “I’m not even worried. She’ll figure you out.”

Jihoon shakes his head, taking a few steps closer to him. “You’re wrong though. I know her type. She’s desperate for somebody to love her. Anybody will do. It doesn’t matter who.”

His words are like a sucker punch to the gut. What if he’s right? Regardless, he powers through his insecurities, knowing a guy as shitty as Jihoon is trying to go for the low blows to throw him off his game. “Man, do you ever get tired of spewing shit?”

“Dude, why do you even want her?” Jihoon shakes his head with a laugh. “Yeah, she's kind of cute but there are plenty of hotter chicks out there.” He clicks his tongue. “I thought I saw an easy opportunity to get laid but I didn't think someone as desperate as her would take this long to get in the sack. It’s kind of more trouble than it's worth for what's bound to be a mediocre lay. I can just tell.”

Namjoon clenches his jaw tighter, knowing that he’s just egging him on at this point.

“But I’ll fuck her anyway. Because I can.”

Namjoon lunges toward him but Taehyung and Hoseok are already grabbing his arms and steadying him like vines entangling a tree. Jihoon silently laughs like this is the most amusing game in the world.

“He’s not worth it. Don’t do something you’ll regret,” Tae says, glaring in Jihoon’s direction, who rolls his eyes in response.

“Time to cool off,” Hoseok whispers, working on backing him up. “Come on. She’s smart. Believe in her.”

Namjoon glares at the enemy he’s made today, wishing he got at least one punch in. “You best keep your mouth shut, or I’ll make sure it stays shut.”

“That’s fine. I’ll make sure Y/N’s stays wide open though, don’t worry.”

Namjoon seethes with rage as he pushes his friends forward, trying to return to the man pushing his buttons. “You really wanna throw hands, or you wanna keep making backhanded comments like a bitch? Let’s fucking go.”

“Joon, come on,” Tae and Hobi take turns trying to diffuse the anger in his eyes

Jihoon rolls his eyes again. “Listen to your boyfriends, bro.”

“Yeah, keep rolling your eyes. I see you looking for your fucking brain,” Namjoon quips with a snort. With a frustrated sigh he finally allows Tae and Hobi to goad him back to a distance where he’s not in danger of putting his fist in someone’s face.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You come back from the bathroom, panic attack only a hazy memory thanks to one of your best friends showing up to talk you through it. Of course Jennie followed you here to make sure you’d be okay. Honestly, you couldn’t be more grateful right now. She gave you the pep talk you needed.

When you finally spot Jihoon, he’s standing alone at the bar, casually leaning against it but looking pissed as fuck. Before you can ask if everything is okay, he’s pulling you into a deep kiss, forcing his wet, slimy tongue down your throat. He’s sure to make a show of it knowing that Namjoon is watching from somewhere nearby.

You wedge your hands between your bodies and break free of the kiss, feeling like that was super out of character for him with how you left things. You were hoping he’d be more thoughtful and considerate of your earlier reaction, but it only adds more proof onto the obvious statement that he is not Namjoon. You try to give him a pass because you know being horny definitely makes you stupid and needy.

“What’s gotten into you?” You giggle nervously, trying to ignore the anxiety nagging at the back of your mind. The butterflies have become a swarm of angry bees circling your belly.

He leans in to whisper against your ear, “I just want you so badly right now. I’m sorry. You wanna get out of here?”

You shift uncomfortably, unsure if you're ready for that, or if you even want that with him. A sense of obligation floods your brain, even though you know you don’t owe him a thing. How fucked up is it that you feel guilty for not putting out on the third date? You don’t actually know this guy that well, so how can you bring yourself to fuck him? Stop being a prude. It’s just sex.

Fighting the sinking feeling in your gut, you grab his hand and shyly smile at him, trying to reason with yourself that at least if you go back to your place, Hobi and Yoongi will check up on you. He takes the action as wordless approval, giving you another wet, sloppy kiss that makes the stone in your stomach feel even heavier.

He discards your fingers and moves to tugging on your wrists in a way that makes them ache. The ice pick of dread starts chipping away at the corners of your mind. He hasn’t given you a reason so far to think he’ll freak if you back out now, but the way he starts leading you towards the exit ties a knot in your throat. Soon you’re practically being dragged across the room. As heavy as the stone in your stomach is, it does nothing to slow him down.

“Jihoon. Hey, slow down! Wait a sec!”

It’s too late. Your shoulder hits the doorframe and you wince as hot pain radiates from the point of impact. Oh, that’s definitely going to bruise.

“Dude!” You wrench yourself away from his grip, nursing the growing welt on your shoulder.

He raises his eyebrows and turns back to face you, concern burdening his features. A light rain begins to blanket the two of you. “Oh, you should be more careful, Y/N. Are you okay?”

Despite the fact that he practically slammed you into the door on the way out of the building, you start to feel guilty for causing him to worry as he begins fussing over you. His fingers ghost over the hand you have clamped down over the ache.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to,” you mumble, attempting to shake off the anxiety in your gut. “But I need you to slow down. You don’t even know where I live.”

“So show me,” he prods, trailing his fingers to your chin. “I’m just so excited to be with you.”

You can hear Hobi’s voice in your head, backing the unsettling feeling traveling throughout your body. Stop making excuses. Ghost him!

You pull your head back, trying to gather the willpower to be brave and back out. “Okay… But-- I-I…” You allow a nervous chuckle to pass your lips. “Look, I-I don’t think tonight is gonna work. I’m sorry. I’m just feeling kind of sick.”

The smile on his face falls. Before he can respond, Jennie’s voice cuts through the sound of rain pattering nearby cars. “Hey!”

He looks over at the sound, furrowing his brow when he sees Namjoon walking out behind your friend.

Showing up to watch, Friend Zone?

Jihoon loudly sighs. “You know what, I’m feeling kind of sick too. Sick of you saying one thing and really wanting another.”

You blink, jaw dropping open. “Excuse me?”

“You’re a fucking tease. Always giving those bedroom eyes, telling me how much you want me, how bad you want to fuck me,” he declares, raising his volume as he watches Namjoon stop dead in his tracks.

Your face grows hot, despite the mist gathered on your cheeks. “H-Hold on. I-I never---”

“But you got this shy act going so I played along. For a bit. You want to play games again. Trying to tell me you want to wait, but I know you don’t. You were the one putting my hands all over your body earlier, practically begging me to fuck you out in the open the way you were pressing that ass into me.”

You can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth right now. Is this really happening right now? It’s a nightmare. You’ll wake up any second now. Everything he’s saying is a fucking lie. So why do you feel so ashamed, so guilty?

“You know what, Jihoon?” you pipe up, the distress in your voice apparent as the shrill words escape. “You’re being a real douche right now.”

“Yeah, well you’re being a real prude for someone who is maybe a six at best,” he snorts. “And god you’re fucking boring. You should be thanking me for even considering sleeping with you.”

The words shock your system and you stand for a few seconds just processing all of the hurtful things he just said. Suddenly the heat in your cheeks radiates throughout your chest. You feel like a fucking moron. Rage. Regret. Shame. Self-loathing. Everything hits you like a truck at once, culminating into a bubbling pressure in your throat. You want to scream, but nothing comes out except for the boiling tears streaking down your cheeks. Your hand flies up, landing across his face with a satisfying smack.

Realizing what you’ve done, your eyes go wide and then clamp shut in recoil as he raises his hand to retaliate. But the blow never lands. When you open your eyes Namjoon has his hand clamped around Jihoon’s wrist, glaring daggers at the man.

“You do not fucking touch her,” he growls. “You better get the fuck out of here before I beat your ass for even thinking about it.”

Your brain has already shut down by the time Jennie grabs your waist to pull you back into a bear hug from behind. Jihoon ticks his jaw and clenches his fists, tearing himself from Namjoon’s grip. When Tae, Hobi, and Jungkook appear by his side, it seems like he reconsiders the punch he was about to throw and backs away.

“You can have her. She’s not worth it.”

Your friends stand in front of you, an unmoving daisy chain of rage as the tears fall from your face along with the apologies on your lips. Namjoon is the last to turn around, but he’s the only person you can focus on as your body convulses with the emotional distress coursing through it. You’re soon enveloped in a group hug, pressed with a deadly tightness against Namjoon’s chest. It doesn’t make you feel any less broken, but it does make you feel grateful to have such a supportive and caring family. What would you have done if they weren’t here tonight? You shudder to think about it.

Namjoon’s fingers press against the back of your head as you spew snotted, muffled sorry’s into his shirt. He’s still holding you long after everyone else has let go, offering comforting words, making sure you know you have nothing to apologize for. In this moment, the world falls away, the pain falls away, and the only thing that matters is the overflowing love you can feel emanating from the man before you.

[sepublic]

With what Dana revealed about the Blight parents and they arent what they appear to be in either a good or bad way, do you think she's going to reveal that they arent abusive? Because honestly with the whol thing with Willow and Amity's hair, the fact she never felt close to a parent, that she didnt have a place to go and that she still called a teacher Mom are all red flags. Maybe it will be that not both of them are horrible, maybe Mr Blight is also a victim?

           (TL;DR at the bottom)

           Let me get this clear; Abuse is abuse, intentional or otherwise. That it doesn’t matter if you didn’t realize how much you were hurting your loved one (like Emira and Edric), or if you were doing it ‘for their own good’ (Like Camila and Lilith). Emotional abuse is REAL and nothing can justify that, and after seeing the very elitist, almost disgusted way Mrs. Blight regarded Willow? How she’s so quick to blackmail her own daughter and someone else’s kid, and treats it like it’s all fine, implies to Amity that if she’s upset about the situation then she’s just being a silly little kid?!

           This lady is AWFUL, there’s no room for interpretation. Whyshe’s awful and in what specific ways is interesting… But she’s awful regardless. I’m pretty sure Dana was alluding to the Blight Parents having more nuance than anticipated while still being terrible people, just as Lilith had her reasons for cursing Eda but was still a bad person for never telling the truth, supporting the Emperor’s Coven, mistreating Luz, etc.

           In general, if I had to pull together my current read on the Blight Parents, and combine it with my own personal speculation and ideas…

           Mr. Blight seems like the kind of person who’s at least… straightforward and honest about his abuse. Like he doesn’t bother with the pointless, ‘sweet’ façade, acting like he’s oh-so kind and caring, that this doesn’t REALLY matter… He seems rather blunt with his feelings. Like he doesn’t try to undermine your feelings by gaslighting you into thinking they don’t matter, mostly he’s just saying, “They don’t matter to me.” Which is still, like, AWFUL, but…

           Then we have Mrs. Blight, who seems to be actively smiling at Eda’s misery in the flashback; That or she’s smiling at Lilith, but regardless. She comes across as a lot more willfully sadistic, and more intentional of a gaslighter; Someone who makes you doubt yourself by getting into your head, making you question yourself and if you’re right… Really playing it up like she DOES know best, that you’re just a silly little kid, you’ll learn and grow up eventually… It’s so dismissive and condescending.

Like, Mrs. Blight is the kind of person who when called out bats her eyes and is oh-so innocently like, “Oh, me?” As if she never did anything wrong, that at worstit was some mistake or misunderstanding… That you can still LOVE her, because she totally still loves you and always did! And then you start wondering if you were too harsh with your accusations, if you’re assuming too badly of her, that maybe Mrs. Blight didn’t ACTUALLY mean it, maybe you’re just going too far…!

           …Like let’s be real. They’re BOTH terrible. But something about Mrs. Blight rubs me the wrong way… And it’s even MORE aggravating considering how much she looks like Amity and Emira. I suspect that it’s her way of sugar-coating her abuse, dressing it up in a little bow, that REALLY contributed to the Blight Kids internalizing a lot of toxicity without even realizing it, and thus transmitting it to one another and outsiders as a result, under the impression that they’re not actuallybeing that bad, right? That if they other doubt their harshness, Mrs. Blight’s abuse undermines that doubt by reassuring the kids that they’re totally in the right and that at worst they’re just misunderstanding things!

           In Lilith’s childhood flashback, Mr. Blight doesn’t really seem to be reacting much.

          He seems mostly apathetic, aloof, and chill about the whole thing… Meanwhile, you have Mrs. Blight who very clearly has a much more willfully malicious smile to her about the situation! Though it’s hard to say what him and his wife were reacting to specifically in that moment, as they can be seen glancing at Lilith, who has just been inducted into the Emperor’s Coven…

          But their expressions could also be hold-overs from their reactions to Eda, who they likely looked down upon for being a troublemaker and defying the Emperor’s Coven in that moment, getting cursed. Knowing Mrs. Blight in particular, she was probably smugly vindicated by the moment; Like this commoner dared to spit on the very values and ideals that nobles like her held themselves up to, and was karmically punished by the Isles for this! Meanwhile she’s looking down proudly upon Lilith for actually ‘knowing her place’, for ‘learning to be one of them’, for ascending past her lowly peers and whatnot… You get the idea.

          Given the way Mrs. Blight was smiling at Lilith in that flashback, I have to wonder if in general she approved of Lilith was one of those few ‘humble beginners’ who became acceptable for the Blights to hang around, which coupled with her status as Belos’ head enforcer, led to Amity being her apprentice…

          Though I have to wonder how Mrs. Blight reacted to the Covention Incident and what Amity had to say, especially since she knows firsthand that Lilith and Eda –sort of- had their feuds in the past? I wouldn’t be shocked if she believed Amity about Lilith resorting to the Power Glyph, but still punished her daughter anyway because she’s an abuser…

          So, when you combine this with what we’ve heard from Dana herself, about the Blight Parents appearing in multiple ways that could be ‘good or bad’ for our protagonists, and Mr. Blight being an interesting person to write for…

          …I think it’s likely that Mrs. Blight was born into the family. She’s the one who has power, given how she dictates that Amity have green hair like her… She definitely has the more elitist look to her in childhood, and her VA was specifically mentioned as a guest-star and everything!

          (Getting into some baseless speculation, we know the Abomination Head can’t be the Blight Parents as they were appointed when the Coven System began, when clearly the Blight Parents were kids in its earliest years… Dumb idea, but the Abomination Head’s hair is tied back in a bun, like Mrs. Blight…?)

          So in all likelihood, Mrs. Blight is probably the one who wields the power in the family, and I have to wonder what her husband thought of it when she prioritized making Amity look like her, in the process removing the main visual connection his daughter had with him! Did he have any doubts, did Mrs. Blight have to reassure her husband that it was all in good-nature, that surely he understood as an outsider? Or…

          In Amity’s flashback, Mr. Blight specifically states that Blights only associate with the strongest of witchlings. If he did marry in as a technical outsider, this would obviously be a very conceited thing for him to say, that he considers himself worthy and strong enough to have joined the family… But after seeing his generally aloof expression, slightly unruly hair, and what Dana said? Amidst my observations of Mrs. Blight having the power, and Mr. Blight seeing more like an enforcer what his wife has to say?

           …I have to wonder if Mr. Blight was like, perhaps. The FIRST person that his wife abused and began to take control of. Like, Mrs. Blight WAS interested in him as children because Mr. Blight was genuinely charming and also pretty strong… But somewhere along the way, she used her greater social status to be in charge of him. Maybe Mrs. Blight began dictating how her significant other acted and behaved, to make sure he was ‘worthy’ enough to be a member of the Blight household. And while some of this could’ve been motivated partially by a genuine desire to see him fit in with her, as well as her own conditioning…

           …It’s still kind of an awful way to treat your beloved. Maybe Mrs. Blight intentionally abused and gaslit or him, or maybe Mr. Blight was always used to being in a position taking orders from her, out of a genuine sense of loyalty and love… And one way or the other, that twisted into him only caring what she had to say. That to him, his self-worth hinged entirely on whether or not he matched the Blight standard, if his beloved wife would approve…

           Perhaps Mr. Blight was someone who was also indoctrinated into the Blight family, not allowed to become one of them until he changed who he was? Like his relationship with his wife as kids was similar to Boscha and her friends, just sort of a follower who got roped in… But with a dash of genuine love and you’ve got him unquestioningly carrying out her orders, helping Mrs. Blight abuse their children together because can’t you see your beloved mother knows best???

           Maybe he has experience with what they’ve gone through, albeit from a more sympathetic angle from Mrs. Blight… And regardless, to Mr. Blight, he’s someone who survived the abuse and came out better, stronger for it! He knows it’s a good thing and pays off in the end, those children of theirs just need to understand…!

           Because it’s worth noting that he has brown hair. So to Mr. Blight, his wife may be the world to him in a rather toxic sense… That HER lineage matters more, that SHE graced him and his ‘humbler’ backgrounds… I have to wonder if Mr. Blight purposefully cut off ties with the rest of his family to be with his wife, either because his wife specifically demanded it or simply as a side-effect of absorbing her elitist, classist attitudes over time.

           …Like, what if Mr. Blight dyed his hair green, too?! To match with his wife… Like he’s the one always making concessions for her because SHE is the noble Blight, and he doesn’t even realize or consider how toxic it all is; Because to Mr. Blight, he takes a personal pride in serving his wife, because there really IS a genuine love there… But that real love is unknowingly hindered by Mrs. Blight needing to enforce some elitist hierarchy within the family. To Mr. Blight, he’s just repeating his wife’s mantra, he sees himself as serving his rightful place in the world, no doubt thanks to Belos and his Coven System encouraging such a viewpoint…

           And, like. There’s still some genuine, legitimate trust between these two. I wouldn’t be at all shocked if Mrs. Blight had indoctrinated her husband without either of them realizing this, because they were both kids and this is how she’d always lived! But alas, it’s worrying… That too much of his self-worth is directed towards his wife and neither of them consider this, that Mr. Blight would gladly lay down his life for her because she showed him kindness… But he’s still dependent upon her, and conditioned to be so like many others with the Emperor’s Coven!

           I also have to wonder if Mrs. Blight will be an extreme version of Lilith; Someone who legit thinks she knows best and casually gaslights others into doubting their objections without even thinking about it, without even self-reflecting upon it… Like a part of her is willfully ignorant of the harm she’s causing, or she’s taught herself to be outright dismissive of it in the end; Because surely she knows best, right? Perhaps she’s someone who casually steamrolls over what others have to say because while there’s some genuine love and interests she’s also very elitist and patronizing, and was taught that she’s the one who should be in charge.

           Then there’s my speculation, half-joking, on the idea of Luz being wholly accepted into the Blight Family, because look at this clever human who managed to wound Emperor Belos! Clearly she’s VERY powerful… Not to mention, Luz is very friend-shaped! So we could have Mrs. Blight trying to assimilate Luz into the family, dye her hair green, make Luz hang out with her kids more and more…

          And Mr. Blight is just watching it all, and when Luz expresses doubts he pulls her to the side, explains that he understands and empathizes… But then he tells her to keep going with it, because who wouldn’t want to be where he is now? That obviously it’s worth it in the end to be with your beloved Blight… Not for social status or anything, but simply to serve a higher cause, and someone you love.

           So this could be a very ‘twisted’ form of acceptance, kind of like how Lilith initially loved Eda but more the idea of her up until the season finale… Of the Blight Parents wanting Luz, but wanting a specific version of her that’s fully integrated into the family! I can see them using their influence to cut off Luz’s ties with her other friends and family, to make her more entrenched and dependent upon the Blight household…

          And naturally, Eda and Lilith and the rest, have a lot to say! Amity definitely has reservations, she wanted to keep Luz from her parents for this and other reasons… While Emira and Edric possibly take it in stride, because they don’t quite realize what’s going on, or they’re just too thrilled at having Luz be accepted to consider the implications of what’s happening! Maybe they think it’s okay because they can teach Luz how to still be her own person, or they’re just glad to have her and don’t think much of it, because while those two certainly try, they’re not always self-aware of the toxicity their parents passed on.

          Either way, Luz is inevitably going to have to make a stand and insist on still maintaining her own connections and who she is, Amity will stand up for her… And things will get messy, because I REALLY do not want to see the Blight Parents be angry! Maybe the Twins stick up for Luz and Amity or just stay to the side, because they didn’t really see the issue beforehand? Either they’re neutral and/or they take Amity’s side, there’s no story where they side with their parents!

          And, there’s the possibility that. The Blight Parents just REJECT Luz, immediately! And we’ve already seen plenty of speculation on how THAT will go… Such as the idea of them sabotaging Luz’s enrollment at Hexside, even if Belos himself doesn’t care about persecuting her as of the moment.

          TL;DR Mr. Blight was an outsider and got fully-indoctrinated into the Blight family mentality and dutifully serves his wife. While he’s still a victim of toxicity, that doesn’t change the fact that he’s now complicit in it as well, something the show addresses with characters like Lilith or Amity. Mrs. Blight is elitist and definitely more of the ‘mastermind’ who has the final say in things, but whether or not she’s actively, intentionally spiteful or is just devoid of self-awareness (or both), I can’t say!