#i'm just sighing into my hands about how people keep saying the same things again

[lighthouseborn]

i'm gonna say something i want to say on a post moving through the non-rp po.tc fandom space but i don't want the smoke. yes i'm a coward. yes it is also a thing i have said in different shapes before.

tl;dr the problem with dmtnt isn't what they say about elizabeth, it's what they don't say about elizabeth (i.e. literally anything.)

honestly the biggest flaw in the entire "should elizabeth have left piracy" conversation is that the movie never asserts that she did. she's just literally not part of the narrative of dmtnt at all.

(which makes sense, to a degree, as it's a next gen story; one of its bigger flaws (imo) is jack's (largely mischaracterized) over-presence. he's not necessary or even all that influential to the plot, he's genuinely just there. mostly to the effect of annoyance or occasional hinderance. henry and carina could go for the trident and have a perfectly reasonable adventure without him, and nothing necessitates salazar's motivations being about him at all. in fact i think it's coincidence, in the nathanson draft? captain brand, iirc, hates jack, but it's not actually what makes him a part of the story, he's actually a figure tied into the myth by hades. jack's only there because he's the franchise pull and the people who wrote the movie had nostalgia for him but i'm digressing--)

"elizabeth stopped sailing" is a version of the story that people don't like — but they invented it to begin with so the whole conversation around it -if it makes sense, if it changes or ruins her character, if someone can find reason in it for themself- is a big pointless circle! nothing canon says definitively comments on what happened to elizabeth except to say she raised her son in a lighthouse that might be near port royal. that depends on how completely the word-of-god you think a prop map shown on screen exactly once is. even then, there are a thousand reasons she could be living near port royal. 'she retired' is easily the most boring of those possible reasons, i agree, but it's still not what the movie says about her.

the ultimate fact is - the movie never says anything about her, because it doesn't think to say anything about her. sure that sucks for other reasons (pushing her out of what was, really, her story to begin with) but it doesn't actually unstitch her character it just leaves things frustratingly ambiguous. it's lazy and uninspired writing but not nearly as much of the big betrayal it's made out to be. no one broke elizabeth, they just weren't interested in writing more about her.

which, again, sucks! but for completely different reasons than the (for some reason) still ongoing conversation about 'she could have retired after her trauma gauntlet'.

she could have retired! she could have not! she could have built a pirate empire on untamed seas! she could have became a heartless evil pirate king who killed for sport! she could have gone mad! she could have found another husband or four! there are lots and lots of open ended possibilities with a character so complex. the movie doesn't actually infringe on any of these, because it just doesn't care about her at all. it doesn't even care enough to say for fact, she retired and lives a horribly wealthy lifestyle, or she didn't retire and turned port royal into a new pirate haven-- it doesn't care. it doesn't. the movie says nothing because, other than Henry's Mother, elizabeth is nothing to the version of dead men tell no tales that we got.

—which, further, if you sit with that for a couple of seconds, isn't that surprising or even different at all from the rest of the franchise. which does not care about elizabeth's mother, or will's mother, or jack's mother, or angelica's mother--- all of these characters are nameless. the one non-appearing mother (from the movie universe. yes i've read tpof, not i'm not acknowledging it here, it's a different beast) who has a name in this list of ignored women actually also comes from dmtnt. magaret smyth, however, has a name that has been established in the franchise as meaning no one. ("Welcome to Port Royal, Mr. Smith.") carina's mother is magaret no-one, the aptly named madame not-appearing-in-this-film. so, once more with feeling, elizabeth being pushed into the background as Henry's Mother And That's All fucking! sucks!! it's! lazy!!! and! boring!!! but what is isn't is some big surprising upheaval. they didn't give you a stranger, completely 180'd character with a familiar name, they gave you a big empty place in the narrative who doesn't speak a single word and only shows up to be kissed. those are different things! by all means complain about the big empty spaces in this story (i hate them!) but stop, please stop, repeating the same bullshit that isn't even what happened

"i hate how they treated elizabeth" me too! "they changed her" wrong! it's worse, they did nothing because they didn't even care enough about her to try! which is a big shame because what they got right about henry and will and gibbs is SO right. carina is SUCH an interesting heroine in her own right but also as a foil for henry - and the fantasy of the series in general. barbossa is THAT BITCH who gets a full run of character arcs for no other reason than he's fun to explore and keep widening, he has the range. a 'down on his luck, washed up' sparrow is an brilliant and unique concept! unfortunately, at almost every turn the writers missed the lynch pins and the places where gravity fit into this franchise. so it turned out a big crumbly, unfinished-feeling mess. and that really starts to make sense when you consider; they didn't think elizabeth was worth writing about.

the dmtnt team's* nostalgia for pirate adventure and grand chaos blinded them to how essential elizabeth, the heart of the trilogy, was. and they got very close! by scrapping the Yet More New Characters (a big complaint of on stranger tides) in order to tie them back to where we started. they just tripped a few feet in front of really, really getting it. but failing to get something is not the same as picking it up and ripping it in half. it's bitter tasting, and disappointing, and frustrating, but it's not an act of spite or malice or even misunderstanding. they just never picked it up. didn't even see it.

*the rossio version of the script is also sorely lacking in this regard. true enough philip and syrena reappear, but people didn't find them all that compelling to begin with, they go through more or less an identical, ambigious arc and end in the same place they began, and the script even directly notes they could easily be replaced with unrelated, new characters. his version is even less connected to the heart of what made the trilogy good, imo. i'm forced to assume ted e.lliot is elizabeth's champion, and that while rossio is very good at the grand concepts and mythical atmosphere, elliot must have brought the grounding elements tying character together and giving them real substance. without both, the rossio script is empty adventure, like on stranger tides, and the nathanson script follows down a similar road. joachim and espen as the directing team were fans enough to bring their nostalgia in and i think is what led to to looking back toward the trilogy more, which was great, they just -again- tripped and fell short of a full return to spirit.

ultimately, the whole problem with elizabeth isn't "she was ruined" it's that she was abandoned. forgotten, or ignored. they killed all her loved ones and left her on a beach and when someone thought to go back to that beach, to that moment, it was to wonder "what about the kid" and never even ask "but what did She do?". I'm fully convinced you could ask that team "what did elizabeth do in that time" and they'd all collectively shrug at you. it's fucked up. but it's not the same as being unwritten. whether elizabeth sat on a beach for 20 years or not is left up to you, the viewing audience. and while that is just so... annoying. they still didn't tie her to that beach themselves. fandom did that. they filled a space and then blamed the writers for the thing the audience filled it with, instead of for leaving a big gaping hole in the heart of their story. it's very vexing.

("then why is henry in the navy at the start?" why is the govenor's daughter a pirate? shit happens. he's 20, a lot could have put him there. if the first thing you think of is boring as hell, make something else up. the movie has fuck all to say about henry's background, too. this is the big gaping hole in the writing that i'm talking about — by overlooking elizabeth, henry's entire history is likewise a big non-statement. sure, you can choose to infer certain things, but you're still inferring. you're still inventing. the movie doesn't care. all we know is everyone on the monarch thinks he's a "landsman" - but if that's true, where has he learned so much about pirate flags and oceanic mythology? what was he doing, between age ten-or-twelve, when he sank himself, and when we see him again in the triangle to be so self-sure and impulsive? the movie doesn't care, it just wants you to see that he is. this is both a strength and weakness, because it invites you to play. unfortunately it invited a fandom who had long ago decided what the future of these characters must be, who then were angry and disappointed when what they got didn't match a mess of a thousand visions that couldn't possibly be matched. so the movie decided "we'll let them decide", removing all the hard and fast statements, and the fandom assumed the worst and decided that was what they were given, instead of empty spaces. and now everyone calls the movie something it isn't. and it's all because the writing forgot that the heart in the chest wasn't actually the heart they needed to be focused on.)

anyway. i think that's out of my system now i'll try to shut up about it going forward.

[acid-ixx]

Sigh.. We all should've have chosen both wally and conner...i can't imagine the faces of batfam

how to be a heartbreaker! (again &. again concept)

ft. yandere! wally west, starfire, roy harper, artemis, conner kent, bart allen x gn! neglected! reader w/ platonic yandere! batfam.

— masterlist !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

tw: age gaps but there isn't nsfw (except for conner) and the reader is described to be older than 20 in this concept and was far ignored longer than in the og story.

a/n: happy (late) halloween! 🎃 i'm praying to the gods, please don't let this post flop, i'm in my flop era fr! because i am not writing allat for it to get ignored 💔 (just kidding i love u guys, especially to all those who comment! i read all your comments even if i'm unable to reply at times). if you guys are wondering why i didn't include all the characters, it's because this is just a drabble and if anyone likes more concepts about this, please send in asks! anyways, enjoy this sweet harem au hehe.

anon, you are so right. but let me raise you this: getting together with all your siblings' teammates. i'm not just saying wally and conner, no! i'm saying the young justice, the teen titans, all their friends and old pals— the moment you come of age, hide under the radar for a few years and eventually meet them at random. you'd be giving dick, hell, even bruce, your father, mind you, a run for his money when it comes to a player reputation amongst the siblings, and the best part (or worst part for you once it's too late...) of it all is the fact that you don't even have to keep all your little relationships with them a secret when they never once bat an eye on you until recently.

the funny thing is: you didn't even have to try to attract them. it was all them approaching you at random days and getting to know you better, with you, at your lowest point, accepting any medium of attention. at first it was them feeling pity, perceptive to how your siblings chose to focus on them rather than you, but now it's them chasing after you because you're so interesting in every aspect; even if you find yourself average at best compared to your talented siblings.

maybe it's because you bring the normal out in them, or because you display such raw emotions and are an entirely separate being from vigilantism. either way, they find themselves thinking about you more often than their missions and that's harrowing.

and because you're such a pathetic, wet cat, so desperate for love; all the people you hit on develop a savior complex because of you. i don't just mean them finding you cute, or interesting, absolutely not. i mean you're constantly being thrown around like a prince or princess who needs a knight in shining armor to catch them when they fall, except you're constantly being carried in some other's arms even when you can stand on your own two feet.

you just have that special quality in you that makes everyone fall head over heels. it makes them fantasize scenarios of a home life with you; they could provide better than your current ones do, for sure. you'd be spoiled to death with kisses to your face, hands wrapped around your body, and a guarantee that you'll never feel alone or unsafe in a world full of danger that lurks around the corner.

that same quality may have also been your downfall.

wally west doesn't mind training all day to become stronger and faster to save you from every danger that lingers near your presence. hell, he doesn't complain anymore whenever dick assigns him some missions if that means he can pass by your room by the manor as an after-mission reward, loving it when you smile at him with the gentlest quip of your mouth as he hastily wraps you in his arms with the same amount of speed it took to run to your house. wally cherishes watching you in slow-time because he could worship every little part of his darling's expression, quelling the boredom he had for the entire day. he wants to be fast enough for his babe, not only just to impress them but because he wants them to see him as the only reliable individual capable enough of protecting and flirting with you. not everyone can measure up to his speed, no? nobody could keep up with this man's speed and he's known for taking you away whenever you're with someone else just to get a sliver of your time.

starfire's emotions become ablaze and so does her powers every time she notices one of your other sweethearts becoming too touchy with you, unable to comprehend why you're not even in a relationship with her yet. but you're too sweet and you bury yourself in her curly tresses to calm her down. at first that's enough! she doesn't understand the concept of physical affection and the boundaries that come with it as much as others but boy does she crave it when it comes to you. it doesn't help the fact that you're incapable of sometimes denying her affections and letting yourself be constantly kissed by the girl in every part of your face. she's very warm, though, and her curiosity about things foreign to her, paired with you teaching her more about your world, makes starfire adore her sweetheart's willingness and patience; it simply warrants another passionate kiss in the mouth from the pink-haired alien.

roy harper brings out a more rebellious side of you that you never imagine yourself sporting. his experiences in life and his rebellious relationship towards oliver queen, his adoptive father shapes him to who he is now; and he'd be damned if you drown yourself in endless misery like he did. yeah, it doesn't help that lian loves you as much as he does and he thinks you're the perfect match for him, watching you play with his little girl and care for him whenever he's injured does wonders for the fantasies that plays itself in his head, all scenarios of coming home to you after a hard day of work, just to see you and lian greet him the moment he enters your shared house with him, kissing him in the lips, telling him about the wonderfully prepared dinner you and lian whipped up for him, and watching your eyes widen at another bouquet of your favorite flowers he bought home for you. you're not in a relationship with him at all but can't a man just dream?

why dick wonders every damn time one of his friends ditch another one of their hangouts is a question never to be answered. but it's been noticeable these days that he's starting to suspect something wrong at play, especially since he's noticed tension within his comrades, and as a leader he couldn't just simply ignore the tense glares, insults to their being, and the hushed whispers; all pet names, a mantra they're used to calling you.

but dick doesn't take it seriously until it's too late.

that his baby bird long fell off the nest years ago, taken into the arms of whom he thought to be his most trusted comrades, thoroughly loved more than he could've given you. and it's not just one person smitten with you; it's an entire harem of people unwilling to share you just as much as dick who'd soon realize that he shares far more similarities with you; a heartbreaker, yet a caretaker at heart.

it's no wonder why everybody wants you for themselves. it's not only your family who loves to hear your precious laughs and gentle hands; that sets the jealousy ablaze in his heart.

jason never thought that artemis carried a softer version of her. but he's been picking up telltale signs of her donning dangling keychains, all cute doodles of her no doubt, and necklaces he's sure he's seen around the manor at times. it's not her typical style, and she never really found the appeal with cute things like crochet plushies of her; yet the designs are oddly reminiscent to someone he always called his angel. but whenever he tries to bring the topic up, he only receives a snarky reply, a protective hold on her things, and a familiar phrase telling him to mind his business. he isn't aware of how she met you one time after you've nearly been crushed to death by a car accelerating at you, if not for her taking the blunt end of the hit. ever since that day you've been seeing her regularly by alleyways watching over you as your guardian and giving her tokens of appreciation, albeit small, that she keeps as her prized properties; ones nobody has special access to touch. she's not much of a heckler for physical touch, but she occasionally gives you a head scratches and the rare peck to your lips.

jason doesn't like how jealous he is towards her, because of how the would-be stranger treats her and why he can't seem to pinpoint the primal urge to rip those little trinkets from her. sometimes he feels like a man possessed, eyeing the keychains and the random pastel bracelets longer, all warranting the same angered glare artemis reciprocates.

he swore he's seen them before, splayed across the random rooms in the manor, some even being in the library; things he loved to fiddle with whenever he was bored out of his mind. so seeing them being proudly displayed by artemis triggers visceral reactions within him.

but could jason do anything about it when he's part of the reason why your roster consists of your family's comrades? no.

if you couldn't get attention from your family, you'll just have to get it through their affiliations. yeah, some are older than you, but god are you treated like divinity with just how willing they are to kneel upon your feet just to gain a crumb of your attention. even the strongest lay weak whenever you look at them with disappointment or sadness with your wide, captivating eyes.

all the times tim drake would be with teammates, he'd notice how their eyes look at him expectantly, as if waiting for another one to accompany them. at first he ignores it, but the longer their strange behavior persists, he begins opening a case about his close friends.

he soon realizes that conner has a record of mentioning "his cute little darling," and how he'd brag to his other friends about how left his jacket and all his favorite t-shirts in your room and how you're always drowning in his scent— always quiping about just how much it smells like you and how he enjoys wearing all his clothes right after you wear them just to get a whiff of your presence in his life; you being his motivation to fight against crime just so he could see your pretty face and tell him you're proud of him. undeniably, he's the one who spends the longest time with you and he's prideful about it, being the only man with the privilege to touch every part of your skin, wishing to melt against you just so he'd be branded in your body like how your name is the only sweet thing he can taste in his mouth.

it's not only conner, but bart allen would bounce around more often demanding that it's unfair how conner gets everything and how he gets little time with you, with just how often you get thrown around by all your love interests! he'd admit just how cute he finds you whenever you coo about him and play with his messy locks of hair whenever it's his time of the week to visit you right after missions. spending time with him is arguably the most casual part of your life, because he loves to help you with your daily errands despite him complaining about the same tasks to his other teammates... he says it's because you stimulate every part of his brain to find satisfaction in every small action that you do, but it's not only that, rather, he wishes to gain all your praises that you sing for him, never finding boredom in your presence at all.

tim's the first one who pieces the jigsaw puzzle together, but he's thoroughly astounded either way at just how smitten they are with you. it makes him open an entirely different case that's just about you; where he discovers how you're connected with nearly everyone close to him and his siblings.

it makes him wonder what makes you all the more interesting. it's how exactly he spirals into a periodic cluster of events investigating your entire life and drowning himself in work, terabytes of files each analyzed carefully— all about you, your past, and present situation. tim drake never saw a person this admired that much, so much so that online stalking lead to physical stalking.

all your dm's are spammed by countless people, and you don't even take the initiative to reply because you'd be too busy being tossed around by the time the vigilante tracks your location. it's honestly amusing at first but the longer tim become a third perspective to your life, the more he craves your physical presence, just to get a taste of dissecting all the thoughts in your brain. but with just how often their friends fight over you, it'd be hard to rip you away from the clawing hands of all your admirers.

that's why he sets a plan into motion. if he couldn't have you to himself, then he could at least share you with the closest people he had in his life— not with all the strangers who think they know his younger sibling better than he does.

a simple document, many actually, so documents, were all he needed, with printed stacks of a4 paper compiling each and every known fact about you.

all in the name of love, he'd give it out to every member of the family in quick succession.

a hefty reminder to take back what once was theirs.

[bratphilia]

overtime (m. schmidt x reader)

request: "Hey ! Just discovered your account and I love your writtings ! I was wondered if you could write a smut and romantic thing with mike ? I dont have any specific context and all its up to you ! <3"

note: ty sm for showing love to my work and for requesting!! i finally was able to write something actually sweet with mike for the first time lmao.

pairing: mike schmidt x reader

tags: small age gap, fingering, missionary

after putting abby to sleep, you fell asleep yourself in front of the tv. you couldn't help it! it was a long night of cooking spaghetti for abby (and ordering pizza, per her request), helping her build a fort, and coloring with her inside it. abby's a sweet kid, but babysitting has always tired you out in general. plus her older brother, your boss, started working the graveyard shift at his new job, so it would be unfeasible for you to not go to sleep during your time spent over there.

you woke up to the chair next to you being shifted in, and open your eyes to see mike sitting there, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. you feel embarrassed that you fell asleep on the job and quickly explain yourself. "i'm so sorry for falling asleep, i was just—"

he looks at you. "no need to apologize. i don't expect you to wait all night long for me."

awkward silence fills the air. well, that settles that. god, he's so cute, you think, even all stressed out and with bags under his eyes. he's also been nothing but kind to you since the two of you met. always concerned with how you're doing, how school is holding up, and just generally about your wellbeing. you try to do reciprocate as it's obvious mike doesn't have a lot of people in his life doing the same for him.

you're the first to break the silence. "uhm, there's leftover pizza in the fridge... you know, in case you want any..." you comment, not quite sure what else to say to him.

"oh! thank you," he says. "did abby ask you to..."

"make her spaghetti and order pizza? yes, she absolutely did."

both you and mike laugh. "i'll make sure i can pay you back for that. you really didn't have to—"

"mike," you interrupt, "seriously, don't worry about it. i understand your situation and i want to help you."

mike looks at you gratefully, almost lovingly.

"y'know—"

"so, i should really—"

the both of you talk at the same time. "oh, sorry, you go."

you smile gently. "no, you go. i was just going to say i should hit the road."

he runs a hand through his hair again, eyes darting across the room bashfully. "well i — uh, i just wanted to say thank you for all you do for abby... and for me. it means a lot. you're very... kind."

your smile widens at his awkward choice of words, but it deeply touches you that he appreciates you. you place a hand on top of his. "of course, mike. i'm always here for you."

mike looks at your hand and inhales deeply through his nose. "will you — will you stay for just a little while longer?"

before you know it he's on top of you on the couch, slamming his middle and ring finger inside you while you bite back moans. "gotta be nice and quiet for me, sweetheart. can't wake abby up, okay? or else i gotta stop and neither of us want that," he whispers to you sweetly.

instead of letting you respond, mike presses his lips against yours in a deep kiss while he continues to finger you. you break apart to quietly call his name, letting him know that you're close.

much to your dismay, he pulls his fingers out before you can come. "mike, please," you whisper.

"please, what, honey?" he teases.

you squeeze your thighs together, trying to relieve the tension in your core. "please fuck me already."

mike presses his forehead against yours, breathing sharply as he slowly pushes inside you, inch by inch. you bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out as your pussy swallows his hard length.

as he begins to move, he also clearly struggles to keep his noises to a minimum. as a solution, he envelopes you in a kiss as he moves inside you. his pace gradually increases from gentle to faster. the feeling is absolutely delicious.

he can feel your pussy spasming around him and his own dick pulsing too. he uses the hand caging you in on the couch to hold yours as he continues to fuck you.

"feel so good around me, baby," he whispers hotly. "you have no idea what you — ngh — do to me. every time i see you i always think about fucking you like this."

"mike," you moan quietly. his words only encouraged you.

his name becomes a whispered chant falling from your lips as he fucks you through your own orgasm. he's sure to pull out and come on your stomach while he pumps himself.

mike wipes the sweat off of his forehead and sits up so your legs lay over his lap. "sorry for pushing you into overtime," he jokes.

you give a small laugh. "no worries. it was my pleasure."

mike shakes his head at your dumb joke. then his smile fades and he looks at you seriously. "is it... too early to say that i love you?"

you lean up and meet his lips in a kiss as your answer.

[sanguineterrain]

hello! are requests open? 😅 i’d like to request for a drabble with a newlywed jason and yn if so!

sure thing! short and sweet <3 jason todd x gn!reader. newlywed fluff.

****

"Okay, toaster from Wade and Logan. Keep or give away?"

"Who the fuck are Wade and Logan?" Jason asks, upside down on the couch. His tie and suit jacket are gone, two buttons on his shirt undone.

"Dunno. I think Roy invited them."

Jason sighs. "Give away. Why did people give us so many toasters?"

You both look at the four toaster boxes in front of you.

"Maybe it's the fashionable thing to have toasters in every room," you say.

You put the fifth toaster in the pile. You didn't even have a toaster on the registry.

"We should give them their toasters back when they get married," Jason says.

"That would be extremely funny, and I'm always ready to commit to the bit."

"I know. 'S why I married you."

That makes you giddy. You look at the ring on your left hand.

"Dude, I can't believe you actually married me," you say.

"I can't believe you're calling me 'dude.' Did I marry a frat boy?"

You grin at Jason. "I love you, man."

"Ridiculous. Gimme my ring back."

"Nope!" You slide to the floor and sit criss-crossed in front of Jason. He folds his arms. You kiss him, mouths slotting oddly due to him being upside down.

You pull away. "No take-backsies."

"Curses!" Jason shakes his fist. "Beaten by the take-backsies rule once again."

You shrug. "I guess you're stuck with me for the foreseeable future."

"Guess so."

He rolls onto his side, so he's lying on the couch properly. He leans in for another kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss with all your might. Jason tugs you up onto the couch so you're atop him. You sit up on your knees, straddling his stomach. You take his left hand.

"Dude, you look really hot in this wedding ring," you say.

"Not as hot as you, babe."

"Way hotter," you say and suck his neck. Jason holds you steady with a hand on the small of your back.

"Tryin' t'maul me? Thank God pictures are done." He doesn't push you away, not even a little.

"Marriage turns me on, broski. I love a man who'll enter a legal contract with me."

"You're a freak," Jason says. "I love you."

You sit up and grin. "I love you too, J.T. Morgan."

He pulls a face. "That's worse than broski."

"Is it, though?"

"It's actually the worst thing I've ever been called," Jason says, deadpan. "My first day as your husband and I'm already being bullied."

"I was bullying you way before you became my husband, J-dog."

"Now you're just saying anything."

"Fine." You lean in so close that your perception warps, and Jason's face looks like it's in a fish-eye camera. "How 'bout I call you pretty boy?"

"Hm." He shifts the way he does when he's getting flustered. "I'll allow it."

"Sweet boy? Angel? Honey bunches? Handsome? Love of my life?"

He clears his throat. "Any of those will do fine, yeah."

You grin and kiss his cheek, watching as Jason pulls that soft, shy smile. The same smile he gave you when you said "I do." You'll never forget it.

You snuggle into his chest. Jason wraps his arms around you, throwing a leg over yours.

"What about the gifts?" he asks.

You shrug. "They can wait. Right now, I'm spending quality time with my husband."

His arms tighten around you. "Now that's a name I'll definitely never get tired of being called."

[cjlouwho]

Prompt: I've been thinking about a mixture of posts on here and I'd really love Tommy going to talk to Eddie because, maybe Eddie isn't being a great friend? I've read some people think Eddie would fall in line with Gerrard (due to being in the army etc.) and I'd love to see a Tommy/Eddie argument!

When Eddie got a knock on his door at 9pm on a Tuesday, he wasn't sure who to expect. He hadn't gotten a call or text from anyone, and he hadn't ordered any food. He figured he'd be arguing with Jehovah's Witnesses, asking them why the hell they were knocking on his door so late? Usually he'd avoid them altogether, but a little piece of him felt like arguing, so he swung the door open with a dramatic sigh.

He was surprised to see Tommy on the other side of the door, hand raised in a fist, ready to knock again.

“Oh. Hey, Tommy. I wasn't expecting you, was I?”

“Um, no. Can I come in for a sec?”

“Sure.” Eddie moved out of the way so Tommy could come inside, closing the door behind him. “Want a beer or something?”

“No, I really can't stay long. I'm heading to Evan's after this.”

Right. Buck. He should've known he'd be getting a visit from Tommy. Buck hadn't exactly left work, or Eddie, on good terms two days ago. Things had been tense for a few weeks now, actually. Everything had slowly been bubbling up until Buck finally burst under the pressure and was sent home early for insubordination. He'd actually been told not to return until he could learn proper chain of command, and if he couldn't learn within a week, he should start searching for a new career path.

“Is Buck the one who sent you?” Eddie asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Tommy shook his head. “No. No one sent me.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “So you're not here to kick my ass?”

“Should I be?”

“I don't know,” Eddie answered honestly. “I don't know what you've been told.”

It was kind of a ridiculous sight right now, if you asked Eddie. Two grown men, friends for months now, standing awkwardly in his living room. Neither making any effort to sit or get more comfortable.

“Evan's been having a rough time with Gerrard,” Tommy started. “Sounds like he's Gerrard's main target.”

Eddie shrugged. “Gerrard likes to push buttons. Buck's buttons are easy to push.”

“Last week he asked Evan if he'd like a bra to go with the apron he wore while cooking.” Tommy tensed even as he spoke the words. “That doesn't just sound like pressing buttons to me.”

“He's a wannabe drill sergeant pissed about the fact he never made it through basic training. You do what he says, keep quiet, use your manners, and make him feel like he's the most important person in the room. That's how you get through a shift.” Eddie moved to sit on the couch, but Tommy remained standing. “You know how this works the same as I do,” he added.

“Yeah, I do,” Tommy agreed, although his voice was a bit more commanding now. “Probably better than you do, actually. Doesn't make it okay.”

Eddie sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Why are you here, Tommy? I'm tired.”

“To try and stop you from becoming me, you idiot. I've been where you are. I've sat beside Gerrard and watched him treat person after person like nothing but garbage. I kept quiet, I made him feel important, I followed behind him like I was his damn puppy dog. I called him sir, I did whatever he asked, I laughed along with his jokes. You know what that made me?”

Eddie was starting to get annoyed. “What?”

“Him. I was no better than him.”

Eddie's eyes darkened. He stood back up, taking a step toward Tommy. “Are you seriously comparing me to that piece of crap?”

“If the mustache fits.”

“You need to get out of my house now,” Eddie warned. He could feel his body filling with the same boiling rage that got him thrown in jail a few years ago. He didn't need that to happen again.

“You repeat to me what Gerrard told Evan two days ago and I'll go,” Tommy offered. “Tell me what Gerrard said that finally made him explode and I'll leave.”

“Or I can call the cops on you for trespassing,” Eddie replied, moving to the door and opening it.

Tommy made no effort to leave. “Go for it.”

They stared at each other for a moment, Eddie's chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. When Eddie realized Tommy was never going to back down, his shoulders slumped. “Come on, Man, just leave.”

Tommy doubled down. “Tell me what he said,” he demanded, speaking each work slowly and carefully.

“H- He... God, Tommy.” He looked away from him, unable to maintain eye contact as he recalled the event. “Buck fell while we were at a scene, bruised his tailbone. When we were sitting down to eat, Buck moved slow. He winced when he finally got seated... Gerrard saw and said th- that maybe if he... if he spent less time taking and more time giving he wouldn't have so much trouble.”

“But,” Tommy beckoned for him to continue.

Eddie took a deep breath. “But he should have expected Buck to be the woman.”

Tommy nodded. “There it is.”

“Listen, Tommy, I-”

“He could've really used someone sticking up for him. One person to step in and tell Gerrard he'd crossed a line. I get that Hen can't do anything right now. She can't risk not getting Mara back. And I know Howie can't do anything to lose Mara. But you could have said something, Eddie. You could have been there for him, but you weren't.”

And there was the anger again. “Why the hell is it on me?!” he exclaimed. “I've been going through my own crap, and it's not like you or Buck have really been around to help me out.”

“Oh, you cannot be serious right now.” Tommy's posture straightened, his body somehow becoming even wider and taller. It would have caused Eddie to pause and think about what was about to come out of his mouth if he wasn't so mad.

“Yeah, I am serious. I've needed people too, Tommy, but you guys have been too busy with each other to even notice.”

“You made the mess you're in right now, Eddie!” Tommy yelled. “You did that! You screwed up and it's on you to fix it! But Evan didn't do anything wrong. He sure as hell didn't deserve to be talked to like that, and now his job is on the line because you decided keeping the peace with a piece of scum like Gerrard was more important than speaking up for your supposed best friend. So, yeah, that's on you!” Tommy began to make his way to the door, ready to push past Eddie on his way, but Eddie wasn't finished.

“Hey!” He yelled, shoving Tommy back so he couldn't leave. “I've been trying to fix everything on my own! Trying to get my own life back! Hell, I just got to talk to my kid for the first time in over a month!”

“And who you think got Christopher to answer the damn phone?!”

It felt like all the air had suddenly been sucked out of Eddie's lungs. He stood there, his mouth hanging open as he tried to find the right words to speak. “I... Buck's been talking to Christopher?”

“Every day,” Tommy confirmed. “He calls or texts. Facetime's him every once in a while too. He's been telling Chris how you're doing, trying to get him to call you or text you. He even suggested writing you a letter.”

“I didn't know that.”

“He didn't really want you to. Christopher had promised him the next time you tried to call, he'd answer. Evan's been like a kid on Christmas Eve, excited for you to tell him how it went after you two talked.”

Eddie didn't know what to say. He wasn't angry anymore, just incredibly disappointed with himself.

“He's always had your back, Eddie,” Tommy said, making his way out the door. Eddie didn't stop him this time. “It'd be really nice if you had his.”

[not-neverland06]

𝙲𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜

Pairing ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

Next Part - Hell Hath No Fury Series

A/N: my stupid poor-people photo editing app stopped working so now my cropping is all off and I'm sad. My aesthetic 😭

Summary: Something brews between you and Arthur, but as always, the camp comes first. Despite the growing tension, Arthur must leave to rescue one of the gang who'd been separated in Blackwater. Jealously brews as a loud-mouth Irishman returns to camp and sets his sights on you.

Micah’s cough echoes through the camp and you wince at the sound. “He needs to see a doctor before he gets the rest of us sick.”

Arthur shakes his head and sighs, “Caught somethin’ from the Downes fella in town.” He passes you some coffee which you take eagerly. It’s part of a strange morning ritual you’d begun with him a few weeks ago. Just after the hunting trip, you’d taken to having breakfast with him if he happened to be in camp that morning. It’s become your favorite way to start the day.

You smirk slightly and nudge his side. “You’re welcome.”

He laughs and shakes his head at you, “I’m sorry?”

“Well,” you start with a teasing tone. “If I hadn’t needed a gentlemanly escort into town for some shopping, it would have been you calling in on those loans.”

He opens his mouth to argue but it stays hanging as you see the cogs turning in his head. He snaps his jaw shut with a reluctant sigh, “Suppose you’re right.”

“I always am,” you tell him like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Arthur just laughs, passing you some bread. You hear a familiar set of footprints pacing outside the tent and roll your eyes, turning towards the entrance. 

Sure enough, Mrs. Grimshaw paces around the perimeter of Arthur’s tent like a cougar. She sniffs when she catches your eye and turns her nose to the air, wholly pretending she hasn’t been stalking you. 

“Shoo!” Arthur shouts, waving her off. 

You let out a bewildered laugh, smacking his arm. “Arthur, stop,” you hiss, but you don’t sound very stern as you giggle at Mrs. Grimshaw’s affronted look. 

“Go on,” he keeps going, pushing her further. “Get,” he snaps like he’s talking to a wild animal. Mrs. Grimshaw says something you can’t quite catch and stomps her foot once before running off. 

You press a hand over your mouth, fingers pinching your lips to try and stop yourself from laughing. Arthur looks at you for approval and you only shake your head. “Come on,” he tries, “she’s been botherin’ us all mornin’. What was I supposed to do?”

“She’s not a dog, Arthur.”

“You sure ‘bout that?” He teases and you swat at his arm again. 

You shake your head, letting out a heavy sigh. “I truly think she hates me,” you whisper, pouring yourself a little more coffee. 

“She don’t hate you,” he reassures. You tilt your head with a deadpan look and he chuckles. “Well, maybe just a little.”

You sigh and shake your head, “Just because I married rich doesn’t mean I had an easy life.”

“I know that,” he objects. 

You look up from your mug and furrow your brows. “Do you? You think I don’t see the way you look at me? You see the same softness they do. I just can’t figure out whether you like it or resent me for it.”

The playfulness of the morning is long gone. You seem to have a knack for ruining the moment. This question, though, has been haunting you for a while. Dutch is passive in his disdain for your upbringing—snide comments here and there but nothing quite so obvious. 

A few of the girls question you about the privileges of being a lady a little too long for comfort. Then, the conversation will end with one of them sniffing and saying, “Must have been a nice life. Too bad you’re stuck with us now.” 

There are always small moments like that to break the ridiculous idea you’ve got in your head, that you belong. No matter how hard you try to tell them, they don’t seem to understand that this freedom is better than anything money could have bought you. Your life hasn't been your own since the moment you were born. Sure, being on the run from the law and fighting for every penny wasn’t fun. But moments like these with Arthur would never happen if you were back at your estate. 

With the others, it’s easy enough to see their resentment. But Arthur’s better at keeping his cards close to his chest. It took a while for you both to settle into something easy like this. Most of the time you don’t spend more than half an hour together a day. You don’t have a good enough read on him to determine whether or not he holds your past against you. 

Sometimes, you think you might see just a hint of bitterness when he catches a glimpse of the smooth skin of your palms. But you never know if that’s real or something your paranoid mind has conjured up. 

Arthur swirls his mug in his hand, a bit of the coffee splashing over the edge as it does. You squirm uncomfortably in your spot beside him. The sun has begun to heat up the canvas tent, but you know that’s not why you’re sweating. 

He gives you a gentle smile that eases some of the dread building up in your chest. “I don’t care either way. And you shouldn't give a damn what the rest of these fools think. It’s what you’ve done with your life, with your money, that matters.”

You chuckle and shake your head, “You mean my father's money, and then my husband’s money. It was never mine. That’s why I care what they think. I’m dealing with their judgments every damn day and they know nothing about the truth of it all. I was a commodity, practically cattle to those men.”

Arthur’s brows furrow in that familiar way they do whenever you talk about the men of your old life. It doesn’t bother you to talk about them because you’re used to it and they’re gone. But you know it makes Arthur angry to think about it. 

You’ve grown comfortable with each other, but it’s still a cold shock when he casually touches you. You glance down, eyes wide, as you see his palm covering your own. You look back up with a soft smile. “You’re smart, Arthur. Smarter than half the people here give you credit for. And far kinder than anyone I’ve ever met. " Your heart kicks up a beat when you see the way he refuses to meet your eye. 

You’ll compliment him a million times a day if only to get him to start believing you. And maybe so you can keep watching that pink flush on his cheeks. 

“That’s enough of that,” his voice is gruff with something you can’t quite name. Having enough sense to know when to stop you hold your hands up in surrender. 

“Only saying the truth,” but you never can seem to stop yourself from pushing just a little bit further. Arthur shoots you a sharp look and you bite your lip to keep from laughing at him. You can see him start to wind up and prepare yourself for the brief scolding you’re about to receive. Once he’s done with that, maybe you’ll do what you’ve wanted for so long and ask him to accompany you to Strawberry. 

You’ve been trying to work up the nerve as your last two outings haven’t gone wonderfully. You’re hoping a redo might help the both of you grow just a little closer. Besides, being away from camp seems to be beneficial to you both. 

Approaching footsteps bring your conversation to an awkward halt. They’re not the heavy foot of Mrs. Grimshaw. This is someone else, someone much more welcome. You turn and smile at Charles as he hovers at the entrance of Arthur’s tent. Arthur scoffs and mutters something under his breath that you don’t quite make out, but it makes Charles grin. 

Charles gives you a brief nod but his intentions are meant for Arthur. “Whaddya want?” Arthur snaps impatiently. 

“Trelawney came back,” Charles answers shortly and your face pinches in confusion. Trelawney? You roll the name around in your mind but you don’t think you’ve ever heard anyone in camp mention him. 

Arthur’s head perks up, the frown on his face softening just ever so slightly, but it's replaced by something more bitter. Curiosity or nosiness, you’re not sure, but rather than give in to the rules of common decency you don’t leave them to finish their conversation alone.  

You try to lean back, pretending you’re not there so they’ll keep talking. “The hell did he want?” Arthur barks, tone still rudely short. You wonder what happened between him and Charles, they seemed to get along well enough a few weeks ago. 

Charles's gaze darts briefly to you but he continues, “He’s got news about Sean. Says he knows where to find him.” Now, that name you know, if only through vague mentions. You know Karen does her damndest to keep a mention of Sean out of everyone’s mouths. And that he made it out of Blackwater alive but got separated from the rest of the gang. Other than that, you don’t know much about him. 

Arthur gets to his feet and Charles backs away a few paces, leaving the two of you relatively alone again. Arthur looks down at you, something like disappointment on his face. “You need to go,” you assume before he can say anything. 

He nods and you give him an expectant smile, “Then you better get moving, cowboy. I’ll be here when you get back.” He lingers for a moment like there’s more he wants to say. But your mornings together have always been short, you can’t imagine why that would have changed today.

He sucks in a sharp breath before nodding and heading towards Charles. You watch him go, your plans for the day being tucked away. You’ll ask him to town another time. As long as it’s anywhere but Valentine. 

A prissy throat clears behind you and your head sinks between your shoulders with a heavy sigh. “Time to get movin’,” Mrs. Grimshaw commands, with far too much glee in her voice. 

You’re sitting on an overturned bucket, running someone’s pants across the washboard. You hate doing this, especially in the brisk of the early morning. Your fingers have already pruned up from the frigid water and you can barely feel them anymore. 

Your gaze drifts to your right, where the heaping pile of laundry lies, and you consider running off with Lady. You know whatever other chores Mrs. Grimshaw would come up with in retaliation would be a million times worse, but it almost seems worth it at this point. 

You dismiss the idea, deciding to honor the unspoken rule of ladies staying in camp, and continue scrubbing. You think this might be Arthur’s blue shirt. You notice a few fraying edges and holes and make a note to fix them up for him once it’s dry. You only hope you don’t stumble across Uncle’s clothes while you’re doing this. That man has got stains in places that make you want to throw them in the fire, rather than wash them. 

“Never gonna get used to a sight like this,” Sadie calls out as she walks up behind you. She kicks a crate over and throws herself down beside you. 

“You will soon enough,” you let out a bitter chuckle and shake your head, “Mrs. Grimshaw’s got some vendetta against me.”

Sadie shrugs and picks at some dirt under her nails. The sun seems to crest just perfectly over her head, almost making her blonde hair glow. She seems to be getting better. She’s put some space between her and the O’Driscolls and has found a place in camp just a little easier than you. 

Still, you know she’s struggling. She wants the freedom that your friendship with Arthur and Charles has granted you. You know she’s feeling cooped up here at camp. You’ll have to invite her for a ride sometime and see if that will help ease some of her anxiety. 

“Nah, it’s not just you. That old hag hates me too. She thinks I’ve got ideas above my station.” You and Sadie turn, glaring at the back of Mrs. Grimshaw who is fussing at Lenny. You shake your head with a huff of laughter and turn back to the laundry in hand. 

“I miss Jake,” Sadie suddenly blurts out. You freeze, hand still partially submerged in water as you debate how to approach this. Sadie’s always preferred the blunt way of going about life. You don’t think she wants simpering sympathy right now. 

“Which parts of him do you miss?” You ask, trying to keep your tone light as you toss the shirt into the basket beside you. 

“The non-controlling parts.” Sadie nudges your side with a laugh, “Relax, I’m not gonna start cryin’ on ya. I just miss runnin’ my own house, not being bossed around by a son of a bitch like that,” she says, motioning vaguely towards Mrs. Grimshaw. 

“She’s not much better than my husband was,” you grouse, trying to drown out the woman’s voice. 

“Ooh,” Sadie groans, tone laced with long-held resentment. “Forgive me for sayin’ it, but he was a real pain in my ass.”

You can’t help the grin that curls at your lips as you straighten up, momentarily abandoning the laundry. “You’re not my employee anymore, Sadie. Say whatever you want.”

“Right,” she shrugs, “He was a real bastard and I hope he became wolf meat.” Your lips pull back into something resembling a smile, but it's not fully there. You imagine the blood of your husband on your hands and it doesn’t fill you with the usually stifling nausea. Instead, it’s like a distant ache. You’re either growing numb to it or finally accepting that you’ve done the world a favor. 

You suck in a deep breath and nod, “I hope the same.” Sadie lingers for a little while longer, not helping with the clothes, but keeping you company. You don’t talk about anything of much substance. Mainly her irritations with everyone in camp and you echoing the sentiment. She doesn’t like Pearson always trying to force her to cook with him and you hate being his taste tester. It doesn’t matter how much seasoning he adds, he doesn’t know how to make even half-decent stew. 

When Sadie eventually leaves to finish her chores and you’re left all alone with your thoughts, you realize just how painfully slow the day passes by. You almost find yourself dragging the laundry out just to provide you some distraction from waiting for Arthur to come back. 

You’ve both been lingering on the edge of something. You need to see if it’s all in your head or if there might actually be hope for the both of you yet. 

You glare down at the basket of laundry at your feet and let out a heavy sigh. You reach for another shirt and begin scrubbing, keeping a careful eye on the camp’s entrance. 

It’s not until the sky is illuminated with glowing swirls of orange and pink that Arthur and the others come riding back into camp. You’d run out of chores a long while ago and had just been restlessly pacing since then. Every time you so much as approached Lady someone would come by and distract you with some meaningless task. 

You’d been sitting in the tent for the past hour, barely reading a book as you pray time moved faster. You stand now, hearing the cheers and whistles of the others. You move around the canvas, smiling when you see Arthur leading the men back into camp. 

There’s a man on the back of Diablo, a loud-mouthed redhead that you’ve never seen before. You can only assume this is the infamous Sean they’d been after. Judging by the look on Arthur’s face, you imagine he’s been running his mouth the entire time since they rescued him. 

He looks about ready to put a bullet in the young man as he drives him into camp. You see the others all taking notice of their return, Dutch being the loudest of them all. “Sean MacGuire!” He approaches Arthur’s horse, giving the boy a hand down and grinning widely. “Welcome back, son!”

His thick Irish accent catches you off guard, “Oh, ‘appy to be back, Dutch! ‘appy to be back,” he responds eagerly, a large smile on his face.  

You hesitate by the fire, waiting for Dutch to finish before you go darting off towards Arthur. “I do think a return like this requires a celebration!” Dutch calls out to the rest of the gang. They whistle and cheer for him, Bill already rushing off to break out the alcohol. The gleefulness of the moment catches up to you, it eases away some of the anxiety balling up in your gut and you find yourself cheering along with the others. 

Dutch keeps Sean tucked under his arm and begins to parade him through camp. You know this is a win for all of them. Even if someone here hadn’t liked Sean, getting one over on some bounty hunters is always a morale booster. Whatever your opinions on Dutch may be, you have to admit that he knows how to lead his people. 

Even if you happen to think manipulate is a better word for what he does. 

You watch Sean interact with everyone in camp, drawn into the boisterous energy he wraps himself in. It’s clear some of them are already beginning to find him a little annoying. But even his smart comments can’t seem to put a damper on the spirits of the night. 

Your mouth ticks up slightly when you see Lenny slug him in the shoulder, yelling at him for letting himself get caught. You divert your attention away from the interaction, looking for Arthur. You feel a little bit of the giddiness give way to disappointment when you realize you’ve lost sight of him. 

He’s no longer by the horses, Diablo having been hitched long enough to already start grazing the grass. You peer around the women’s tent and then take a few steps towards Arthur’s but he’s nowhere to be found. 

Just as soon as you let yourself be disappointed by this, you also chastise yourself for becoming so infatuated. You’ve always had a bad habit of getting in your head and boosting your hopes up over something mundane. You’ve only just begun forming a friendship with the man and already you’re starting to fret over him. You’re not a schoolgirl anymore, you’ll have to grow out of this at some point. 

You rub a tired hand over your face and suck in a deep breath. The aromas of camp rush over you in a wave. You can still smell the remnants of burnt morning coffee amidst the ever-present scent of the campfire and the fragrance of laundry that lingers on your hands. You can no longer tell if the mingling of odors comforts or irritates you. 

You look up to the shining stars above and pray for a semblance of sense. Wrapping your shawl tighter around your shoulders you resolve to get over this infatuation with Arthur and just enjoy the night. If anything is meant to happen, it will do so naturally. 

Dutch walks towards you as you begin to head towards the domino table. You force yourself to stop when you see the expectant look on his face. Sean trails along behind him now, already seeming to have found his way into some of the liquor. 

 “Mrs. Rowe!” Dutch calls out loudly, you give him a polite smile and he motions towards Sean. “I don’t believe you’ve met my good friend, Sean MacGuire. Mouthiest gunman in the west,” he adds with a smarmy grin.

You shake your head and hold your hand out to the boy. “Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure. And please, no need to be so formal.” You give him your name, and he perks up. Stumbling forward and attempting to shake the drunkenness off, he turns your palm and kisses the back of your hand instead of shaking it. 

You can’t help but laugh a little at his performance. Molly suddenly calls for Dutch across camp and the three of you turn to face her. “Dutch, over here for a moment!” She waves him forward and Dutch lets out a long-suffering sigh with an easy smile. 

“Duty calls, I believe the two of you can entertain each other for a little while.” He turns towards Molly, arms wide as he calls out, “Now, Miss O’Shea, what ever can I do for you?”

Sean quickly snags your attention again and you realize that he’s yet to let go of your hand. “Not a missus, eh?” He asks, his eyebrows waggling with what his drunken mind must think is seductiveness. 

You stifle a giggle and shake your head no. “‘Fraid not. He’s not been gone long, but I’m happier for it.”

“Oh, and so am I, fair lady.” You shake your head with amusement. He’s nearly charming with all of his limitless swagger. “Now, I’ve just been cooped up in a camp with about fifty men with mugs nearly as ugly as these,” he motions towards the gang and you let out another unbidden laugh. “Would you care to dance with me?”

Your brows furrow, a disbelieving smile on your face. Leaning in, as though you’re sharing a secret, you tell him, “There’s no music.”

He pulls a little bit back from you, meeting your eyes as your breaths mingle with proximity. “Are you sure?” He asks, a mischievous look on his face. 

You find yourself frowning in confusion, and then, almost as though they had planned it, Dutch puts a record on. It’s scratchy on his worn player, but the music fills the camp as he leads Molly into a sway. 

Your lips part in astonishment and you forget for a moment just how close the two of you are. If anyone else saw, they’d think you were going to kiss. “How did you know he was going to do that?”

He waves you off and leans back. “Magician can’t reveal and all that,” he dismisses. “Now, a dance?”

You’re charmed by him, as much as you hate to admit it. Perhaps he doesn’t have quite the same effect on you as Arthur. But he’s handsome in his own way. Besides, who are you to deny a magic man a dance?

You let him lead you towards the fire and he draws you close. You’re surprised when his hand stays firmly on your waist and he keeps a nearly respectable distance between you both. You’re still what modern society would call a scandal, but this is nothing for a gang of outlaws. 

“I’m sure I’ve never met you before. Where did they find you?” Sean spins you out and then twirls you back into his arms with a flourish that makes you breathless. You almost ask him where he learned to dance before you remember to answer his question. 

“Up in the mountains. Some O’Driscolls came through, killed my friend’s husband, and kept us in a cellar.” You’re no longer surprised how easy it is for you to admit something like that. You’ve become desensitized to situations like your own the longer you’ve been in camp. 

“O’Driscolls,” Sean’s face twists up with distaste and he shakes his head. “Nasty business.”

You scoff, “You’re telling me.” Sean’s gaze drifts behind you and the little color on his pale skin drains. It makes the freckles speckling his cheeks stand out remarkably. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Cutting in, MacGuire,” a rough voice calls out from behind you. Your feet still from where they’d been following Sean’s lead and you risk a glance over your shoulder. Arthur paints a fearsome portrait against the night sky. Impassioned by the sight of him, with the brim of his hat tipped low and the fire casting shadows across him, you hastily drop Sean’s hands and step back from him.  “I’d go find your lady if I were you,” Arthur instructs Sean.

Confusion swirls through you before you spot a very angry, very drunk Karen walking past. “Rotten Irish bastard,” she mutters under her breath, shooting both you and Sean a nasty look. Sean chases, taking quick steps towards Karen without another word to you. 

“Karen, it meant nothing, sweetheart. I only wanted a dance!” You let out a loud laugh as you watch him scramble after her. 

“He’s a damn fool,” Arthur says through a chuckle, walking closer towards you. You smile, turning around and flicking the brim of his hat up so he doesn’t seem so imposing. 

“You stole my dance partner, Mr. Morgan.” You accuse lightly, pretending to be cross with him. 

He rolls his eyes with an attitude you rarely see from him. “I did you a favor. You don’t want to get involved with Sean.”

“No,” you tell him, “of course I don’t. I was only dancing. Can’t do that anymore now, can I?”

Arthur’s mouth opens and closes before he lets out a huff. “Well, you two seemed awful close. I thought that-” he cuts himself off and you frown. 

You were only teasing him. Had he actually thought you were interested in pursuing Sean? You’d barely known the boy an hour. You pause, taking a step back and really getting a good look at Arthur. His shoulders are tense, though, not as tense as they had been a moment ago. The anger on his face, when he approached, had been real and not just the fire playing tricks. 

The pieces connect one by one and you find yourself astonished. Arthur Morgan had been jealous over you. 

That had to mean something. You couldn’t be reading into something like this. You might be a little desperate, but you weren’t a fool. You feel a flutter in your stomach and swallow down nerves. “Dance with me?” You ask, in a breathy whisper, sounding much more confident than you are. 

His eyes widen and he grimaces, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know, sweetheart. I’m no good at stuff like that.”

You bite down your smile and lean forward, taking his hand in your own. They’re rough against the smooth surface of your palms but you relish in the feeling. “Neither am I. It was the one class I never managed to get the hang of in finishing school.”

You coax him forward slowly, drawing him into you and guiding his hand a little lower on your waist than you should. He takes your other hand in his own and leads you into a slow dance. It’s barely anything more than a sway, but you still feel exhilarated. 

Even with the warning, it’s still a little surprising how awful you both are at dancing. “Even if you're stepping on my toes Arthur, I’m still much happier to be dancing with you,” you tell him, sincerity coating your throat like honey. 

He looks away from you and sighs. “Don’t have to say that.”

Your brows furrow and you tilt your head, catching his eye. “Why would I lie?” He doesn’t respond, caught off guard by the question. 

“Well,” he starts slowly, finally facing you again. He laughs a little at himself and shakes his head, “I don’t know why you would.”

“Because I wouldn’t,” you retort. “I don’t want to dance with anyone else, Arthur.” You know that sometimes he doesn’t always catch the hidden meaning, but you’re hoping he understands this time. You don't know if you could be any more brazen than you currently are.

His brows furrow and you can practically see the dots connecting when you begin to hear it. Low grunting noises, something almost like a whimper, slip out of the closed flap of John’s tent. You both pick up on it at the same time, movements slowing until you come to a complete stop. You stand, tucked into Arthur’s chest, and listen to what seems to be two people having a lot of fun. 

“Is that-”

You’re cut off by a very loud, “Sean!” You gasp, hand covering your mouth as your eyes widen. 

“Oh, Karen,” he sounds on the verge of tears and you practically have to bite your tongue to not laugh. You bury your face in Arthur’s chest, feeling it shake as he lets out a loud chuckle. “I’ve missed you so much!” You hear him begin to cry and force yourself to turn away before they hear you both laughing at them. 

“Oh,” Arthur’s face screws up with disgust but he’s still laughing. “That’s just awful. Come on,” he keeps your hand in his, tucking you under his arm as he leads you away from the tent. He snags a bottle of something off a nearby crate as he guides you toward the trees bordering the camp. 

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere we don’t have to listen to that,” he mutters, nodding back toward the sinful tent. You clench your eyes shut, trying not to picture what the two of them are doing. 

You feel your feet sink a little, mud lifting around the edges of your boot. You reach to lift your skirts, out of instinct, before you remember you’ve got your new pants on. It makes you smile a little, living without the weight of your old clothes. 

“Arthur,” you stumble into his back as you trip over a branch and he quickly rights you. “Were you jealous?” You don't give much lead-up, hoping to shock the truth out of him. 

He pauses and turns back to look at you. You smile a little impishly at him and he lets out a long-suffering sigh. “This way, woman,” he grumbles, tugging you towards a thinner patch of trees. You find yourself squeezing his hand absentmindedly, liking the comfort of holding it.

The moon illuminates your path forward and you feel your heart jump up to your throat. He’s led you to a small cliff face, a spot just large enough for the both of you, that feels incredibly intimate. The moon almost creates a halo around the area, lighting it up more than anywhere else in the forest. 

Arthur lets go of you to tug off his coat. He places it on the ground and motions for you to sit. So used to fending for yourself and always being the last priority, something as simple as that has your heart skipping. “You didn’t answer my question,” you tell him as you take a seat. 

He sits beside you, knee brushing against your thigh as he pops open the bottle of whiskey he’d swiped. He twirls it around in his hand for a moment before he places it down beside himself. Your stomach dips when he turns towards you, eyes intensely meeting your eyes. 

You almost want to look away, the blue of them too intense to face. There’s honesty in his gaze and an intention you can’t recognize that forms a lump in your throat. “Yes. I was.”

Your lips twitch and you shake your head, slightly bewildered by how easily he admitted that. “I’m jealous every day I don’t get to call you mine,” he adds.

You used to be someone else’s. First, you were your father’s toy and then your husband's. When they called you theirs it was always with the intention of owning and using you. But it feels different with Arthur. It feels like handing him your bruised heart and knowing he’ll keep it safe. He says those words, and finally, you know that someone other than yourself is looking out for you. 

His hand comes up, gently brushing some hair off your cheek and drifting down to the nape of your neck. You lean forward, following his guidance, as his head dips down. Your lips meet, and the warmth emanating from him makes you realize this is truly happening. 

Cold from the stone below you seeps through his jacket and chills your legs. The feeling only further intensifies the startling realization that this is real. This isn’t one of your silly little fantasies. He’s kissing you and you aren’t doing anything.  

You sit before him, stiff as a stone, not kissing him back or showing him any sign you’re enjoying this. He picks up on that and you can already taste the apology on his lips as he begins to pull back from you. So you dart forward, clumsily pushing your lips up against his before you completely ruin your chance. 

He laughs against your eager lips, but you feel his relief in the way his shoulders slump and he relaxes back into you. One of his hands drifts down towards your waist, tugging you slightly closer, and you could melt into the feeling of him holding you. 

He tightens his hold around you, drawing you back ever so slightly, his forehead resting against yours. “You sure you want to get involved with me? It ain’t gonna be easy.”

Unwilling to part for so long, you close the distance between the both of you and finally, let yourself give in to the sensations of this moment. His palm drifts into your hair and he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. 

Perhaps due to his gruff outlaw exterior, you’d had the misguided notion that he wouldn’t be a good kisser. Men like himself seem like the type not to enjoy something as simple as a kiss. They’re used to just getting right to the point. You’re happy to discover just how wrong you were. 

Those romance books Mary-Beth devours always describe something fleeting. There’s always fireworks going off as the two people you’ve been reading about finally kiss. This isn’t like that, there isn’t a spark that reignites a cold heart. You feel safe and comforted, like you’re finally coming home. This feels real, not like some passionate moment shared between two people that will never last.

Arthur pulls back, reluctantly, and you both catch your breath. “We should probably head back soon,” he whispers, eyes trained on your lips.

You nod your head, “Probably.” Neither of you goes to move, instead you tighten your hold on one another, basking in the moment of finally having what you’ve been coveting for so long.

Next Part end. — I do not own the characters or the game Red Dead Redemption 1/2, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2025. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

Hell Hath No Fury Taglist: @buckysblondie @littlebirdgot @heloixe @summerdazed @committingcrimes-2047

@m1stea @pokiona

[cvnt4him]

Can you write brat tamer us please please 💗

I've been saving this for a while but I have no more reqs so I'm going to finally write this bad boy

...........................................

Slut him out!!

...........................................

It was a normal day for you. Go to all your classes, go to lunch, go back to your dorm, do homework, go to sleep. An endless routine you'd be doing until you're through with college. it's not like you disliked college, no, it was just kind of suffering. The endless routine of doing the same thing over and over and over again became.. old. Nothing new.

It was tiring, going to all those classes with the same people was just head aching. Those loud girls laughing and making jokes, talking about their next sneaky link, and the guys talking about getting high or drunk and doing pranks on people, and fucking each other. Yeah the guys are fucking animals..not all of them however, observing over the numerous boys your eyes scan over a couple. These men never seem to have anything to pitch in when it comes down to the 'guy talk', that intrigued you.

A forest green haired man, his curly mop of hair wildly shaping his head. The freckled that littered his cheek and down his neck, and those big wide eyes of his. Doe eyes was an understatement compared to his, they're js so fucking huge it's like you can the the whole world in them.

You hadn't noticed you were just staring at him for so long. Watching the way his face contorts in a flustered mess, he covered his face with the back of his hand from whatever the blond whispered in his ear. You seen the blond look over to you with a snicker before nudging the green haired guy. You looked back at him to see him staring at you with lidded eyes and a flushed face, his eyes shakily staring at you from across the room, you were startled by him looking at you but you weren't gonna be a nerd and blush like some idiot. You raised a singular eye brow before bucking your head at him signifying a 'what?'.

He offers you a slight smile as you move your lips to a straight line and roll your eyes looking back down at your paper. You heard the boys laugh at this, hollering and making the table screeched and scraped across the tiled floor, the teacher hadn't really cared much so he didn't bother interfering.

"yoo she completely blew you off bro!"

"you pull zero bitches fr fr."

"managing to scare a girl off from across the room has to be some kind of world record, deku."

"i- I didn't scare her off, kacchan she just looked away from me!"

You heard the seemingly small guy whisper yell at he blond, all of the guys eyes still staying on you whilst conversating and joking around.

The bell rung as you instantly hopped out of your seat heading towards the door. If these guys were anything like the ones in high school you could guarantee they were going to try and stop you.

"hey--! Wait!"

Fuck.

You slowly turned around with an annoyed expression being visible on your face, the guys snickered and laughed quietly behind the blond holding his green haired friend by the shoulders.

You looked them both up and down judging them harshly. Glancing over izukus figure you hadn't expected him to be that muscly, he had a great body and his biceps were huge without even flexing, how come his face looked so.. baby-ish?

You looked at izukus face just staring, he offered you a polite smile once more and he looked back at you with a red face and squinted emerald green eyes due to his smile. His eyes were pretty, you'll give him that, but if they were going to say what you thought and knew they were they're wasting their time. You'll never let yourself be humiliated in such ways by insignificant men again.

You sigh rolling your eyes at them before rubbing your temple and placing your hand in your hip. The sass that radiated from you was immaculate.

"what?"

"damn, rude."

"no, I'm busy and you're keeping me from getting to my dorm so if that was all you were gonna say...?"

You instantly clap back to the blond, you won't let these pathetic schmucks keep you from getting to the comfort of your dorm.

Bakugou simply chuckled at you. He found you entertaining, he wasn't quite sure if he wanted to set you up with deku or himself.

"well we won't keep you waiting, babe. I just need a quick favor, think you can maybe go out with my pal here? He's a real charmer."

Bakugou tried to hold in his laugh at the end of his sentence he swung his arm to the right after saying his words, he patted deku on the shoulder causing him to mumble a low "ow.." under his breath.

Your eyes quickly shoot to izuku making him tense as the rest of the boys silently watch.

You look him up and down before rolling your eyes, that definitely didn't hurt his self esteem!!

"you want to go out with me?"

You ask unconvinced. This was just some stupid not prank and you were not going to fall for it. Never again.

He gulped loudly before looking down and nodding aggressively. Bakugou had to stop his head from shaking before he shook his brain too hard.

You simply hum, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. You had nothing to say to him or them, you didn't quite care really.

"neat. I've got to go so, have a good day."

You say your lips thinning as you point to the door and walk out backwards, you really shouldn't have even stopped to entertain this.

You didn't even see the way izukus face contorted in such a sad manner, he was actually hurt by this. You didn't know he really liked you, that he'd been watching you for some time, waiting for his moment to ask you out.

Knowing you just rejected him he had no reason to even attempt asking you out again. He'd make a fool of himself.

For some odd reason the school had given its students a week off, the people in your dorm hall way cheering and clapping it up for this random W.

You hadn't really cared you'd be in your dorm binging movies and shows, that's what you called fun. It's not like you were a basket case you just don't like big crowds of people, or people in general. You like being alone, not saying you don't have any friends, you just prefer alone time and there's nothing wrong with that. You're just so socially awkward and anxious it messes with your head to make you think people won't like you so you push people away. Plus people are dicks so.

Your phone vibrates against your thigh as you pause your show and see a text. It's from ochako.

'hey girl!! I was going out with a couple of friends and wondered if you wanted to tag along?:))'

You sigh and groan, no you don't want to go, however it's been a long time since you've hung out with her. Shes just so clingy she acts like she can't go 2 seconds with our being around people.

'oh yeah sure sounds fun!!'

Lie. You are a fucking liar. It does not sound fun, it infact sounds loud, overcrowded, sweaty, and terrible. You already said you'd go however you couldn't back out, I mean you could but you weren't that kind of person. Anyways if you really hated it you'd js sneak out and call and Uber.

You wore a black dress ending at your thighs and a dark denim jacket, you put on your black platforms and stuffed you some slides in your mini backpack in case you got tired from wearing those damn things.

You seen ochako pull up in her car and walked outside only to see her small ass car full of people. Now where the fuck where you supposed to sit.. on one of these random ass hoes laps? Hell no. She fr had a band of people crammed in her small ass Porsche.

You sigh and get in the back of her car squeezing in with four other people back there. How? Don't fucking ask.

Once you arrived ochako gave out all wrist bands, the bouncer was checking if wrist bands so if you didn't have one you'd have to wait in that long ass line and pay alot of money. Luckily ochako bought y'all's wrist bands before they got too expensive.

Once gathering inside you looked around to see the whole ass place, it was huge. Balloons and beach balls bouncing and being pushed around by people dancing and moving around the loud booming music. Cages with women in sexy lingerie dancing as well, people playing card games and gambling whilst doing drugs and drinking their minds away. You looked over to the huge ass bar to see it empty. No way that huge ass spinning wall full of drinks was that empty?

ochako made some plan to all meet up in the bathrooms and shut but you only half ass heard the plan due to you eyeballing that strawberry margarita, it was practically yelling your name. Once the group broke you instantly made your way to the bar.

Sitting down you look at the bartender who glances at you and doesn't take his eyes off you. It made you feel sexy the way he took in your sight, licking his pierced lips as he shook someone's drink before pouring it in their cup still not taking his eye off of you. Once making his way to you he pushed his long hair behind his ear and leaned over the table in front of you.

"what can I get you, doll face?"

He asked, his deep voice ringing in your ears. God this fine ass specimen was so damn sexy.

"strawberry margarita please."

You say in a sultry voice, you and no idea how to flirt but you seemed to do a good job as he handed you your drink with a wink.

You giggled as you took a sip and took in the delicious taste. Fuck this was heaven. Despite it being loud and overcrowded it was so relaxing next to the bar.

Someone calls out to you in a rather hushed voice.

"uhm.. he- hey!"

You turn to see the green haired guy from you class. For fucks sake you can't seem to outrun these motherfuckers. If he was here his dickish friends were definitely here. You didn't want to come in the first place but if you'd known they'd be there you definitely wouldn't have come.

You roll your eyes and simply nod at him taking another sip of your margarita, it's delicious flavor seeming to disappear.

"may I sit?"

He asks hesitantly, not wanting to push your buttons. You nod and he sits next to you ordering a drink and telling the bartender that he'll pay not only for this drink if you haven't already, but he'd also pay for whatever other drinks you order. That's right, drinks. Plural.

Oh?

Oh so that's how he is, huh? He's that kind of guy. Yeah maybe you should've went on that date with him. who knows maybe he wouldn't take you shopping too.

You could definitely hang around him if he was gon spend money on you that's for sure. No doubt about it, he keep up this kind of work you might just sleep with him.

You chuckle to yourself at the thought. He glances to you and smiled at you, you offer him a better smile than you had intended. You two ended up chatting it up alot more than you thought, he was kind of funny.

He was also kind, respectful, a gentleman, and very polite. He asked questions bout you and let you know you didn't have to answer if you didn't want to and he sure as hell wasn't gon force you to.

Oh hell yeah, he just might get you out of your pants by the end of the night.

You two have a couple of drinks and laugh and joke around together, every question he sees you answered somewhat truthfully and he actually listened, that was a breath of fresh air.

As he laughed off one of the jokes you told, you just looked at him taking in the sight In front of you. He was slightly drunk, hiccuping as his cheeks were tinted a shade of red smoking him kind of look like a strawberry. His laugh was kind of attractive, the way his smile was bright and real. You questioned it though, maybe he got surgery to make it look like that. He clearly had the money.

He knew you were looking at hima and just let you, he thought the stares would ended sooner or later. The silence became rather awkward to him so he looked at you assuming it'd make you look away, but you hadn't, you couldn't. He was just so hot randomly it made you squeeze and rub your thighs together. You bit your lip whilst looking him dead in the eye, his lidded ones staring into yours.

Fuck why did his eyes have to be so pretty. The way they looked into yours made you act on pure impulse, desire. Without a thought in your mind you grabbed him by his cheeks slowly pulling him into you. His once lidded eyes being blown wide by how close your faces were, noses rubbing against each others. Your lips were so close to touching.

His eyes trailed down to your lips as he just stared at them for a while, a whimper leaving his mouth as he bit his lips. A smirk creeped onto your face as he slowly brug his eyes back up to yours. Your thumb rubs his cheek before going to his lips and pulling his lips from his teeth.

His lip was plump and red from the harsh biting. you sighed and thought to yourself, you should end his suffering. Technically it wasn't even for him it was mostly for you. You could feel the need for him pooling in between your thighs and he was seeming more and more desirable.

You finally connect your lips together humming through the kiss as he groaned deeply, the end of it coming off rather pitchy and desperate. The smirk coming back into your face as you hold him close.

He grabs you by your neck not applying much weight or force to it just bringing you closer and deepening the kiss. His other hand moving down to your thigh, not gripping or squeezing just holding it. You him once more as you decide to initiate something more to see how far he's willing to go.

You spread your thighs open and grab his hand trailing it inside of your warm thighs, a hushed and muffled moan left his mouth as his dick twitch in his pants. He was painfully hard.

He tried to initiate something as he opened his mouth in the kiss, he wanted your tongue down his throat. Spit swapping as your tongue explodes his mouth. you grant him with it and open your mouth as well, your tongues dancing together in such a dirty way, another moan leaving his mouth this time much louder and desperate than the other.

You chuckle as you break the kiss a string of saliva connecting your lips. He licked his bottom lip hoping to get another taste of your essence.

You smirk at the estate he's in from a simple kiss. Watching him writhe and beg for you silently as he breaks from the kiss. He was kind of a slut that'd do anything you ordered him to.

You stroke and push a strand of his hair behind his ear, his head following the direction your strokes go into. He looks deep into your eyes, you see the way they were so glazed and blown wide for you. It looked like he was going to cry.

You chuckle and coo at him as a whimper leaves him.

"awwh, pretty boy. Do you want more?"

You ask him quietly while playing with his hair, you'd already pushed out every other noise in the room. He however was enchanted by your voice, it was now the only thing he could hear at this point.

He nodded as a shaky sigh left his mouth as he frowned and furrowed his eye brows whimpering as he looks down at his pants, you follow his eyes and see the way his dick was twitching in his pants. It looked so painful and uncomfortable for him, the only thing you could think about is how thick and heavy his cock must be to be able to move this pants like that.

He looked back up to you and seen the way you bit your lip watching his cock helplessly twitch.

"can you... would you maybe be able to help me.. please....?"

He whispered to you in such a breathy and desperate manner. Your eyes shot up to him making him shiver at your eyes on him. He loved the way you looked at his dick. It turned him on so much, he was so hot and bothered.

"of course, let's get out of here yeah?"

You say standing and grabbing you bag while you hand was still in his hair. He stood and placed the money on the counter and walked out with you heading to his car.

You made it to his car as he managed to open the door for you depite being painfully hard. You hummed at his gentlemanly actions and smiled. God you were going to enjoy slutting him out. Breaking him and bending him to your will.

He got in the car and started it up, he instantly got on the road, not driving too fast or recklessly despite being kind of under the influence. You just looked at him, his hand on his pants next to his cock, it continued to twitch but this time you seen a wet patch form next to the tip of his dick print.

You bit your lip and chuckled causing him to tense and glance at you. Fuck had you seen how much his dick was leaking? God this was so embarrassing but he just couldn't help it!! He always leaked so much thick precum it just oozed from his twitching cock.

You put your hand over his dick causing him to jump and stutter out a moan as his eyes rolled slightly. You giggle as you rub his dick up and down through his clothes. A groan escaping his lips, he couldn't help but slightly buck his hips up into your hand. You continued your relentless teasing as he became rather close to cumming while he pulled into the college dorm parking lot.

He parked and began holding himself up with his hands as he rubbed his dick against the palm of your hand. You took your hand away as you ripped his upcoming orgasm away from him. his rolled eyes shooting at you in an instant, he became a moaning mess

"no.. no no please, i- ngh..~ was so so close..."

His orgasms slowly faded as he became so sexually frustrated he needed you and you just laughed at him. He gave you an angry look before getting out of the car and opening your door for you. you sigh at him, still a gentleman despite having his orgasm taken away from him.

His legs were shaking, standing on them was difficult he was so close to cumming before his legs had become jellylike.

He walks beside you while you both go inside heading to his dorm you hope. Yours was a mess, you never really had other company besides ochako over and she wasn't really judgemental.. at least not out loud.

He unlocked his dorm and opened the door for you to go in first. Walking into a seemingly normal room. It was actually quite cute and fitting for him. You looked around twirling as you did so admiring his quite stylish dorm.

"sorry.. it's kind of a mess heh..."

He muttered shutting his door and scratching the back of his neck. He offered you a seat on his bed as you nodded with a smile sitting close to the edge. To be honest you didn't know how to initiate what you both wanted. What were you to do? Tackle him down on his bed and just fuck him?

That sounds a little domestic.. sigh. Guess you were to just sit there until something happened or until you got fed up with nothing happening. He walked into his closet closing the door behind him, you took that as an opportunity to snoop. You got up quietly and looked around, touching his dresser and PlayStation5. You never took him as the type to be a gamer guess you should never judge a book by its cover.

You started thinking to yourself as you opened his top drawer to see allmight underwear and merch, awwh this adorable dork was a little fan boy!!

You were too busy snooping to hear him come out with gray sweatpants and a black shirt. He noticed you weren't on the bed and turned to see you at his drawer giggling to yourself.

He blushed before calling to you,

"so you're the type to look through your crushes underwear drawer, huh? Never took you as though."

You jump with a gasp turning around holding your hand to your chest as you feel a tinge of embarrassment creep into the back of your mind. Fuck had you really just got caught snooping through his shit? That's so fucking lame.

He simply just laughs and brushes it off with a hand reaching toward the back of his neck scratching it, hesitating to ask you a question.

"so uh,--"

This was it. He was gonna kick you out tell everyone you were a creep and a perv. You'll get kicked out of school, be forced to go back home to your parents empty handed, no degree, no major in anything. Just a stupid fucking pervert.

You gulp down and try to mentally prepare yourself for your world to come crashing down.

"--would you maybe want to uhm.. finish what we started...?"

He asks avoiding eye contact, a tinge of blush starting to creep onto his freckled baby like cheeks as be bit his lips worryingly.

Oh. Shit, he still wanted to fuck? After he caught you going through his shit he still wanted to hit? Damn this mf is relentless.

You bat your eyelashes at him with wide confused eyes. That's definitely not what you'd expected to leave his mouth but you're glad your life hadn't ended.

"yeah, okay sure let's do it."

You say taking your denim jacket off and throwing it to the side. His eyes widen and shoot straight to you as his mouth hangs open, you place a hand to your hip awaiting for his next move. He was stunned to say the least, hm you really agreed.. shit. This was going to be fun.

"oh! Uhm-- ye- yeah! Let's uh, let's do it..!!"

He sounded so excited when he finished speaking you giggle to yourself pushing him down onto his bed and straddling his hips. There was no way you were going to let this baby faced dork get his way with you.

You were going to use and break everything in his body. he's going to be a shaking slobbering mess when you're finished with him.

He looks up at you with a flustered expression as a shaky and stuttered "oh" leaves his mouth. You kiss his lips with a moan and grind slowly onto him, sucking his tongue into your mouth as you glide yours against the pink muscle.

His hands instantly go to your hips, guiding them up and down while you move against him, a muffled whimper leaves his lips falling right into your mouth as you suck every sound he gives you up.

The way he moves underneath you, hips lifting into yours to feel that friction he craves, his tongue letting yours lead the sloppy spit filled dance, it stroked your ego in the best way possible. Having a man, one of the smartest people in your classes, writhe and shiver under you while you grind into his hard leaky cock is liberating.

You let out a deep chuckle, still slurping his tongue down your throat. You continue to kiss him as you stop moving your hips completely, his hands trying to get you to move while he whines from the lack of friction.

He pushed you away lightly, looking you deep into your eyes as he frowned at you tears threatening to spill from his wide yet lust filled eyes. He swallows deeply, his eyes trailing down your figure slowly stopping at your boobs. The way they spilled out the top part of your dress was so sexy, he wanted to see them so badly to touch them. He could only imagine how soft they were. Did you like your nipples touched? Would you want him to put hickeys all over you, letting people know you've been marked by someone. Would you keep your dirty escapade a secret? Keep him as your dirty little secret?

So many things filled his head as he bit his lip staring at your boobs. You raise an eyebrow smile slightly fading as you follow where his eyes are directed at. Slutty perv. He didn't even try to hide the fact he was staring at your bossom with no shame either.

You lift his head to face you, his eyes slowly following after. He just looks at you with such need. He was so horny, to be truthful his boner hadn't gone away since you two left the car. He was just so needy he couldn't even begin to care about anything.

"can I have you? Please?.."

You hum as you stroke his hair, his lip slipping itself into his teeth. you'd be lying if you said you hadn't wanted him, or at least wanted to see his cock, his dick print in those sweats looked so good, and the way he almost came for you in his car? God he was such a slut all and he wants is to be slut out and used for your own pleasure. Why deny him if that? You were mean, genuinely cruel, and kind of shitty towards people, but you weren't a monster.

You agree, slipping your underwear to the side while yanning his sweats down. He was so excited his cock twitched against his shirt, a delicious looking happy trail following his cock. He raised up to take his shirt off for you, to minimize the work so you wouldn't have to do much, you look at the way his muscles flexed while moving underneath you. His cock slapping down onto his lower tummy with a low slapping sound.

God he looked delicious, his cock was so thick and heavy it couldn't even stand up on its own. The way his cock glistened with all of his sticky icky precum. Beautiful. He was so beautiful like this, awaiting for your next move.

Finally, after devouring the sight in front of you, you took him all the way down to the base with a low moan. A deep groan leaving his mouth at the same time. He rolls his eyes back while biting his lip, his hips accidentally bucked up into you on impulse, almost pushing you onto his chest, you caught yourself with your hands before being pushed down.

"shit..-- sorry..."

His voice was so low and hushed with a whimper laced in his tone, he yearned for the moment you moved your velvet right walls up and down his cock, slicking him up with your juices. The thought alone made him nearly jerk his hips up into you again, you felt it.

You hum again, deciding you weren't going to move. You were going to cock warm him, make him beg for you. To be able to fill you up with his seed.

He felt your walls tighten and flutter around him, it made his eye roll. The pleasure he gained from you not doing anything made him feel so dirty. Yet he wouldn't dare move, he wouldn't dare to even try to take the lead, try to fuck you. He feared what you might do, he also was very curious. Would you edge him? Make him beg for you? Would you leave his cock to ride his face and make him eat you out?

His thoughts went on and on and on about the endless possibilities of punishments you could give him, them all just egging him on more. Honestly you sitting on his cock, burying it deep inside of you to the base was working for him. He could cum from just the way you kissed his neck softly and moaned in his ear. It really was getting him there, and the way his cock twitched inside of you let you know that.

You scratch lightly at his pecs earning a whine from the harsh yet gentle strokes of your nails against his bare flushed and sweaty skin.

"you gonna cum?"

He choked on his air, clearing his throat and whining lowly.

"how pathetic, god you're so disgusting you know that? Looking at my boobs like I wouldn't notice, the fact you might just cum from me kissing your neck is honestly adorable."

Your weird hit him hard, they tugged at his heart strings far too harshly. Tears spilled from his eyes as he hiccuped and placed his hands on your thighs, sniffing as he tried to look up at you through teary eyes.

He was pathetic, he knew it. He loved how you called him it, degrading him for enjoying himself from the bare minimum. How disgusting.

He couldn't even speak, hiccups and little sounds of incoherent words and some "please"s leaving his drooly lips. You giggle and kiss his tears away, he loved how you degraded him and babied him like this, making him feel special yet so horrible for feeling good. How did you do that?

"awwh, pretty boy.. it's okay my love, it'll all be over soon."

Yo coo into his ear, grinding into him earning a loud moan from him. The room was quiet, no lights on, the only thing lighting the room was the moon peering through his window. His loud moan echoed through his dim room.

"yo what was that?"

"I don't know"

"you know what that sounded like?--"

Muddled voices were heard from the other side of the door, his eyes shot open and went towards the door as you turned around to look at it as well. Shit, were his friends back already? They must've noticed he was gone..

You look back down to him as he looks up to you and gulps, he looked so terrified. If his friends found him like this they'd never let him live it down. You smile wickedly at this. Terror filled his eyes as he instantly knew what you were going to do.

"i-- please! Please please don't, don't do anything!"

He whispered a beg to you, pleading you not to ride him for all he's worth.

You give him an adoration filled look before placing one hand onto his chest and bouncing onto his cock relentlessly a slutty feminine moan ripped through his body as his eyes rolled so far back into their sockets he felt as if they'd never come back down.

You slap a hand over his mouth and continue riding him helplessly and you groan lowly at the pleasure of his cock hitting your cervix so deliciously. He moaned into your hand his hot breath fanning your palm as his moans and groans were badly muffled.

The voices outside were hushed and become silent, but you both were too busy chasing your impending orgasms to care. You groan louder riding and grinding your hips down into his at an intense pace making him lose his mind. A smile spread across your face as you felt his cock twitch inside of you.

"gonna cum slut? gonna cum knowing your friends are out there, probably listening to you get slut out for me, eh? fucking disgusting pig, you get off to people knowing you're being fucked dumb? stupid slut."

You say as you bounce onto his cock, removing your hand from his mouth causing all of his hushed moans to leave him, loud whimpers, moans, and incoherent words rip from his throat, he sobs and drools under you ascending from the immense pleasure. He'd never felt this good before. He's so close he can practically taste it.

He nodded his head violently agreeing to everything that left your mouth. You think he's a disgusting pig? Yes he is. Think he's worthless and his cock is useless? Shit, okay! Think he should get a leash and collar for you to walk him around the campus with? Ordering them now!! All for you!

He was yours, truly now and it's all he wanted. To cum deep inside of you. You squeeze and convulse around his cock a few more times before cumming around his cock, your pussy squeezing him so tightly sucking him for the cum he's worth.

"ah~ are you- fuck.. cum-cumming? please! cum on my cock!~"

He begs you as he throws his head back feeling his impending orgasms rise. You moan and groan throwing your head back aswell, riding his cock while you cumm all over it, juices leaking down and sticking to his hair. You stop moving due to over stimulation as you catch your breath. Izukus eyes open, tear stained face glancing up at you with pleading glossy glass eyes.

"what.. what are you doing? hic- please don't-- don't stop!"

You breath heavily as you crash into his chest, you're almost certain that you'd never come this hard in your life.

You can't even reply from how hard you'd come your brains out, he whimpers under you and rearranges your position. He puts you on your tummy and grabs two pillows from above and places them under you to keep your hips up.

"I'm sorry.. 'm s'sorry... js'-- ngh~ needa cum baby.."

He stutters out apologies as he lines himself back up with your sloppy fucked out overstimulated pussy as he slips in. Groaning as he begins to fuck you into the mattress pushing your head into the pillows. He bites his lip and leers down at you through teary lust filled eyes. He pistons his cock into you at a quick pace. Electric trickling around his hips as he continues to pick up speed. His groans became desperate needy moans. He throws his head back as tears still fall down his red freckled cheeks, you were being fucked into his mistress and still managed to have such an effect of him.

He slammed his hips into yours a few more times, the creamy sounds of your pussy being rearranged with his thick cock going straight to his head, his ears filled with blood as he could suddenly hardly hear, he groaned before spilling his thick white seed inside if you. The warmth making you shiver and let out a messy groan into the pillows.

He sighs heavily, eyes rolling back when he collapsed beside you, your ass still being stuck in the air as you both close your eyes catching your breath.

The room was now filled with two hot sweaty bodies and the smell of sex. Izuku hummed lowly as he glanced over to you with tired eyes, his body threatening to pass out. He touched your shoulder and realized you were already asleep,a smile went to his lips while he removed the pillows from underneath you and pulled you closer to him, he stuck his now flaccid sticky cock back into his swests as he moved tour oantues back over your cunt. Wouldn't want his cum to spill out!

He kissed your forehead and lays his sweaty forehead against your shoulder, his grip on your waist tightening ad he drifted off to sleep.

The drunk men behind izukus door eavesdropping began laughing their asses off.

Sero owed bakugou $50. He knew izuku would have managed to hit, he just didn't think tonight would be when.

Izuku was going to feel their wrath in the morning, but he was also going to wake up beside a hungover you, so he felt as if he would be able to concor anything, including asking you out on a date.

...........................................

AN: boy oh boy, I love me some zuzubear!!!! He's just the sweetest little thing in the world I tell you.

I hope this was adequate for you ml it's my first time writing a brat tamer thing n I had a bit of trouble finding good resources😞

[sweetinsaniiity]

My Life For Hire

► 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 - frat boy!san x college!Y/N ◄ ► 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜/𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 - switched bodies!, plot with smut, cursing, betrayal, enemies-to-lovers, semi-funny, San is an !ass, but so are you, bickering while having sex, love-making, sweet sex (no rough fucking this time, ya nasty people), blowjob, name-saying kink, permission-asking, creampie, no protection (do NOT do this!)◄ ► 𝚃𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 - MDNI, mentions of extreme violence, childhood abuse, body disfigurement (via burn marks), fighting scene ◄ ► 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - 18.1K (+ bonus scene!) ◄ ► 𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 - Choi San was a man you harbor great loathing for. He betrayed you out of nowhere, and it cost you your whole life. You were ready to hate him for the rest of your life, until both of you were forced to work together after switching bodies, and then San claims he never betrayed you. How long will you pretend to be each other until you two get caught? ◄ ► 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 - Hello again <3 I wanted to publish this sooner but I wasn't feeling well so I had to take a bit of a break. This is definitely not my best work since this genre isn't my strongest suit. This is a work of fiction and is not meant to represent Ateez in real life. Join the taglist here. Title from A Day To Remember ◄

"So is anyone attending that party at the frat boys' dorms?"

I took a deep breath through my nose, hoping that the gesture would calm me down and not let my frustrations get the best of me.

Hyolyn, a close friend of mine, latches on my arm. "Our Y/N works a little too hard," she pouted. "You should come with us."

"You know I can't," I sighed. "It's not that I don't want to either, my finals are around the corner and I can't slack off."

Of course I wanted to go, just like the other normal people my age, and in college, no less. I wasn't the studious type nor was I someone who cared too much if my grades tanked, but I do want to graduate at least.

The cafeteria wasn't the ideal place for me to glance at my notes every now and then, but hey, the sooner I finish this, the sooner my life gets a bit easier and smooth sailing after.

"Ugh, can't they keep it down?" another friend of mine, Seolhyun, grumbled. She was the pretty but nerdy type, it made her charming. "I'm trying to study here, Professor Byun will literally fail me..."

I took an apprehensive glance at the far corner of the college cafeteria, and I couldn't help but be annoyed as well, and soon it became even rowdier when this particular group strolls in and creates more noise pollution.

"You fuckers be ready for the party tonight!"

"Beer pong anyone?"

"Everyone better attend and be ready to fuck things up!”

They were Ateez, a bunch of immature frat boys that took pride in annoying the living daylights out of everybody they encountered. They were loud, boisterous, and rambunctious.

I tried to get back at my sad excuse of a lunch - by that, I meant soggy veggies, gamey meat, cold soup, go figure - and my boring class notes, but the hairs at the back of my neck stood up. That's how I knew someone was watching me.

And I was right, someone was, or rather, someone was murdering me with their eyes.

Choi San.

He was seated at the far corner of the cafeteria along with the rest of cronies, leaned back a little comfortably on his chair with his arms crossed, and glaring at me with such intensity, and not participating at the rowdiness of Ateez.

"What the hell are you looking at?" I stared angrily.

He seemed to get the message. He shrugged his shoulders and glared harder. "What are you looking at?" he scowled.

I scoffed, the grimace clear on my face. "Can you guys keep it the hell down?" I mouthed at him wryly.

I gripped my pen so tight in my hand I'm surprised it didn't snap off. Oh, how I wanted to rip that menacing smirk off of his face. "What are you going to do about it?"

I stared at the way he licked his bottom lip then poked his cheek with the same tongue. He narrowed his eyes at me, waiting for the comeback that I always delivered to him, but not today, Satan. He looked at me with so much contempt, I was forced to look away.

"Guys, I have to go," I packed my stuff hurriedly in my satchel with a tight smile. I heard my friends complain under their breaths, I can't tell them but that the reason is that, mainly, I was avoiding San. 

He was still staring at me with that nasty smirk he's always had. I had to resist the urge to march over to him and gouge his eyes out with a spoon.

Staring became our only form of communication for a couple of years now. It was a contest between us, and winning came with a reward - the satisfaction of seeing one of us falter. 

San tilted his head curiously as he watched me pack my things. His eyes were unblinking, they were harsh enough to see directly right through me. Perhaps it was the way he looked at me that gave his intentions away.

I wasn't going to give in to him. I sneered at him, unwavering as I slowly walked towards the cafeteria's exit.

I grimaced when I realized I had to pass him in order to do so. Curse him, I thought bitterly. I'm fine, I just have to ignore him---

"Oh, oh, oh no," I panicked when I accidentally tripped on something and began falling straight to the ground face down.

This was it, the end of my social life, and the end of my reputation. 

"Careful. You don’t want to fall on your face, do you?"

This was my nightmare personified - tripping and falling directly in San's arms. I sighed deeply, forcing myself to look at him as he held my waist a little too tight for my liking.

"Unhand me, you swine," I hissed, grabbing onto his arm and pushing it away. 

San clicked his tongue mockingly. "I help and this is what I get in return? You wound me." He leaned close to my ear and whispered something soft enough for only the both of us to hear. "I get it. You've always acted like you have a stick up your ass."

I scoffed blaringly loud enough to catch pretty much everybody's attention. It was embarrassing, but my anger towards San prevailed.

"I'm sorry, were you dropped on your head as an infant?" I snapped. "Or were you just born stupid?"

Ohhs and a couple of laughs were heard across the cafeteria. His friends stared at us in amusement. San had a devilish grin on his face, but I knew him. The way his eyes glinted with something dangerous - he was angry.

"This isn't over," he growled lowly.

With that, I turned away from and left not only the cafeteria, but the university in general to head back to my dormitory. San always bought out the demon in me, and I was exhausted.

In the end, I decided to go to that party, even though one of his frat buddies, either Wooyoung or Mingi, hosted it. Needless to say, Hyolyn and Seolhyun were over the moon. I decided to get ready the moment the sun went down.

"You fool," I muttered, staring at the picture frame I always had on my table. I paused from getting ready and stared at it for a while.

It was San and me, grinning widely at the camera without a care around us. One glance and it was like we were in high school again, before all the dumb decisions and before we both drifted apart.

It's been four years since then and I will never get over the loss.

The party was unfortunately a blast. As much as I disliked San and his cronies, they sure knew how to throw a good one. The mingling bodies made it a little difficult for me to move around.

"Having fun?!" a boy in my class, Haechan, raised his voice so I could hear him from the loud music.

"Sort of!" I laughed loudly.

I was loosening up, maybe it was the alcohol, but nonetheless I moved my body to the rhythm of the songs that played in the background, chugging my beer from time to time. It was honestly fun, I haven't really gone much because I really did try to concentrate on my studies.

Suddenly, someone hastily grabbed my beer cup and sloshed it on the floor. "Hey!" I shouted.

I was being dragged roughly across the room, through the sea of drunk people and vomit, outside the house the party was. I groaned when I was harshly shoved against the wall.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

I laughed contemptuously at San's pissed off face. "What?" I scorned. "I can't attend parties anytime I want now?"

San looked royally pissed. He had always been the intimidating bastard, and he'd always hated the disrespect I gave him.

"You?" San sneered. "You hate parties. Did you come here to embarrass me further? Haven't you had enough?"

My heart suddenly hurt as I stared at San's disdain, and I mourned the loss of my best friend all over again. We were everything to each other, until we just weren't.

San's eyes softened, and they mirrored the same loss I mourned for. It was always like this.

My eyes flashed with anger, I glared at him and showed him how mad I was. "Get off your high horse, Choi San. I'm not the same person I was years ago."

Something cold crossed over his face; touched the corners of his eyes and glossed over them like sharp winter frost. He let out a snort, but chose not to reply. He behaved like always until it made me crack.

I was angry and frustrated that he ruined my mood, and I was getting back at him for this. “Your group of bastards irritate me, you know?"

San laughed and shook his head. “Bastards like us are born out of passion, aren’t we? We are everywhere,” he jeered.

I smirked. He always hated it when I talked shit about Ateez. “I can’t say I particularly hate your little group—“

“No? How tolerant of you.”

“—-just you, San.”

San stares at me. “You hate me that much, Y/N?"

No, I thought, I hate them from stealing you away from me and you for going along with them.

“Yes.”

His brows shot up with the revelation and I stared at him with my heart racing. I haven't been this close to him in years. I scrutinized him - he was the most handsome in my eyes, but now more so that he'd matured. One thing that never changed was he always dyed a section of his hair blonde.

I hated that piece of hair. It always garnered him the attention he never deserved.

A searing smile curled at his lips and he chuckled in amusement. "I suppose the feeling is mutual," he smirked. "You feel tough because of your boy toy, what's his name? Jaemin?"

"That's none of your business," I gritted my teeth. I was pissed, Jaemin has been nothing but good to me.

He sneered at my annoyed stance. "Are you fucking him?"

"No!" I denied faster than I'd like. I rapidly shook my head at his accusation. Embarrassed, I tried to avert my eyes from him.

San chuckled lowly. "Go home," he said, but it sounded like a threat.

"Careful now," I chuckled without humour. "People are going to think we like each other if you keep cornering me like this."

Sans arched a brow at my defiance. He clenched his jaw, the irritation slowly getting to him. "Why?" he sneered. His fingers mockingly brushed against my arm. "You like playing hard to get?"

"Ugh! You are insufferable!"

"And you are a feisty little bitch," he snapped.

"Are you fucking serious?" I cursed, moving slightly to try and get away from his presence. "You're the absolute worst, I swear to God."

"I wish I gave a fuck," he sighed with a mocking laugh. 

I was about to retort something dumb, something so stupid he'll have no choice but to let me go, when the loud cracking of the thunder interrupted us. It amplified the rain that accompanied me and San's childish argument.

Taking the chance, I pushed him off and tried to storm off in the rain to my car. I wasn't in the mood to party anymore. "Let me go," I said firmly when San stopped me by holding onto my arm.

"Don't be a kid," he rolled his eyes. "As much as I'd like to see you drenched and suffering, wait the rain out for a little, then you can fuck off."

I angrily shook my arms off of his grip. "Talk to the wall," I hissed.

"I'm serious, it's slippery out there," he nagged, following me when I began to walk off, but hesitating when the rain hit him. "Come on now, Y/N."

I flipped him off. I noticed his eyes grow dark, I recoiled a bit, but chose to go on. The rain was strong, but I managed to walk off, and then the inevitable slipping that San had warned me about came in time when I accidentally stepped on mushy grass.

I screamed, flailing my arms stupidly like it would break the fall, and break it did. Except that the real reason was because a pair of arms had broken my fall.

I stared at San's wet form holding me. "Are you okay--" he began speaking, but he too, had fallen victim to the slippery slope we were in.

I cursed as we both tumbled along and San let out this guttural groan when I fell directly on top of him. I didn't register it at first, but I felt something very soft land on my face...

"Mmph!" I whimpered. To be specific, something on my lips.

San and I looked at each other wide eyed, not moving as we were too shocked to do so when we realized that our lips had met.

Then came that dizzying sensation I had never, ever felt before in my entire life when San pulled away in daze. Before I could even register the fact that San and I basically kissed, albeit by accident, I started to lose consciousness.

"You're so disgusting you literally make me sick with a single kiss,"San slurred, his eyes slowly fluttering close like mine as he held onto me tightly.

I buried myself in San's arms, scared and confused to what was suddenly to the both of us. Did someone spike the drinks?

"Likewise," was the last thing I blurted out before both him and I slumped on the ground as the world started disappearing from both of us and fainting.

There was nothing, for a moment, at least.

And then it came, in the darkness, that wonderful dream I loved dreaming about. I dreamt about it so much that I subconsciously knew I was dreaming.

The vibrant, hectic space was bursting into life. To my right, the espresso machine sputtered slowly, its sounds resonating through the air, every now and then pausing to gasp some air whilst liquid gold flowed down to be served into a cup.

"A cappuccino for you, my lady," San teased as he gave me my cup and then sat opposite to me. "And a latte for me."

It was a beautiful summer bloom, with the busy college applications looming over us. I'm surprised that San and I even had time to hang out.

"Are you really coming with me?" I frowned. "You don't have to, Sannie. I can always visit you overseas, you know that."

San clicked his tongue. "That won't be necessary," he smiled, that cute dimple he had popping out from his cheeks. "I already rejected the offer, we'll be in the same college."

Guilt crept its way into my heart at San's excited stance, and of course, he takes notice. He grabs my hand and massages it gently.

"I'm serious, Y/N, it's okay. I'd rather be with you than be alone somewhere else," he said. "I...don't think I can live without you there."

I bit my lip apprehensively. "I don't want you to give up your dreams because of me," I whispered.

He shook his head. "I'm not," he assured. "What's the point of achieving them if I'm without you?"

"What am I going to do with you, Sannie?" I giggled.

I'd loved him the most when he did the thing - dancing - he was most absolutely passionate about. It was when his eyes twinkle despite the absence of emotion on his face. They were alive in the lights, burning with the motivation to succeed as if he has been through so much and more. 

And when he glances at me the same way, it was when I felt loved the most.

I woke up in a cold sweat, my breathing laboured and intensive. Fresh tears started to well up in the corners of my eyes at that dream, for it was the last time I would ever call San my best friend.

Or rather, the love of my life.

I laughed bitterly to myself. That ship sailed a long, long time ago. At this point, I was in love with the memory of how he used to be - the sweetest, kindest man. Now he's just a cocky douchebag.

I sat up on the bed, and it was when I realized that I was in an unfamiliar room. I looked around, my heart beating a little too fast for my liking, and my head pounding really, really bad. 

Odd, I thought. I'm not a lightweight, this can't be a hangover.

I panicked when I heard the bedroom door jiggle and a voice rang from the outside. "San, are you awake?"

I screamed bloody murder when the door opened and tried to cover myself up. I cannot be seen dead or alive within a ten mile radius with San. "Ahh!"

"Ahhh!" the other person screamed as well.

"Ahhh!" I screamed back.

"Ahh! Why the fuck are you screaming, San?! God, my ears are busted..."

San? I gritted my teeth in annoyance under the blankets. Why wasn't he saying anything? I swear if I get my hands on him I will wring his neck.

"San? Are you okay?"

I paled when I felt the blanket suddenly pried from me. All the excuses and scenarios in my mind on how to excuse myself and maybe bribe this man into not telling anyone I was in San's bedroom. 

But nothing. The person that took the blanket away from me was none other than Jung Wooyoung, San's closest friend. The familiarity in his eyes when he looked at me was creeping me out a bit. Or maybe he was just used to San having women over. The thought left a bitter taste in my mouth.

"Get up, man. It's almost 10, I saved you some food earlier," Wooyoung spoke, looking at me expectantly. When I didn't reply, he frowned and touched my forehead. "You okay? You look sick."

I recoiled from his touch, and his frown turned deeper. "A-Are you talking to me?" I asked, squeaking pathetically when I realized that my voice wasn't my voice.

It was deep, rich, and it sounded a whole like San's.

Wooyoung cackled loudly. "Are you still drunk?" he jokingly hits my shoulders. "Unless there's another San in the room, then yeah, I'm talking to you."

An oncoming panic attack makes my heart beat erratically, the fear automatically bombarding my brain. The intense worry was overriding the rational part of my brain, not that there was anything rational about this. 

I slapped myself hard, hoping to wake from this nightmare that I was in, but nothing. Wooyoung stares at me like I grew two heads. "Yeah, you're definitely still drunk," he mumbled.

When Wooyoung left the room, I got out of the bed so quickly that the blood rushed to my head fast and rendered me dizzy, but I didn't care. I ran to the big mirror at the corner of the room and stared at myself - or San.

"No, there is no goddamn way, this cannot be real," I muttered to myself, the mania and craze scattering my thoughts and making it impossible for me to think. "Oh my God, what the hell did I do wrong to deserve this?!"

Broad frame, toned arms and chest, almond-shaped eyes, white-stripped bangs, this was San. I brought my hand to touch my face, it was smooth, something I knew my skin wasn't. When I waved my hand dumbly in front of the mirror, I yelped when San's reflection looked back at me and did the exact same thing.

But wait, if I now San, where is the real San?

"I'll be right back!" I screamed at nobody in particular, trying very hard to appear normal when I rushed downstairs, tripping on a few steps, with a newfound vigor. The blush on my cheeks were still evident when I changed into San's clothes with my eyes closed.

It was hard because I would sweat when I'd accidentally touch what technically was his skin, but I can't just panic and mope around doing nothing. I have to find my own body.

"Ya! Don't slam the damn door!" I heard someone scream when I hurriedly ran out of the Alpha Tau Zeta frat house. It was probably Park Seonghwa. Rumour has it that he was a neat and clean freak.

I stumbled like a fool as I speed walked my way towards my own dorm house where hopefully San with my body was in. I cursed under my breath when I tripped again, barely catching myself. Curse San and how big he is!

How did this happen though? Was magic a real thing in this life all along? It didn't make sense, what kind of sick God was playing with our fates like this?

With no time to lose, I opted to jog and I was pleasantly surprised when I realized how easy it was to jog right now. But it wasn't me, San's body was the one with the insane stamina and strength to do so.

When I reached my dorm all the way to the end of the campus, I wasn't even panting or sweating. As I tried to make my way inside, the friendly security guard stopped me from walking further. It was something I appreciated living here, the safe security, but now I'm a little annoyed about it.

"Your name and who are you visiting?" the guard asked.

I cleared my throat apprehensively. "Y/N, ah, m-my name is Choi San and I'm visiting L/N Y/N."

It unnerved me to hear myself - San - talk and it was even more unnerving not to say my own name and use San's right now.

"Nope," the guard shook his head. "Miss Y/N did not put your name as a legal visitor for her."

It took a lot in me not to snort loudly in contempt. Of course I would never put San's name down. I never wanted to see his face near me ever again when I started living here.

I was about to appeal and try to sneak away, when I saw a familiar form by the doorway. My eyes widened when I saw myself seething and shaking with anger. Is that what I look like when I glare at San? I suppose no wonder he hates me.

"You," I hissed. I cringed when San stared back at me, maybe my face and body, but those eyes belong to San. It's definitely him in my body.

I marched over to him, ignoring the protests of the guard and dragged him into my room in a hurry, not caring if we both looked weird.

"Can you not treat me like a ragdoll? You're hurting me!" San barked, but not doing anything but following. It was weird hearing my own voice talk to me like this.

"Ah," I uttered sarcastically. "Now you know what I feel like when I tell you."

San glares at me and I had this urge to just submit, but I carry on. "Don't be a pussy, San."

It was true. San had a habit of grabbing onto my arm when he wanted something, especially now that his only goal in life was to drive me to my grave.

While me and San - or more like, San and me - were having the death march towards my room, the uncomfortable stares of the people we passed were undeniable. Everybody knew San and I hated each other, it wasn't necessarily a secret, so seeing us together was such a treat. 

I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. Sometimes I forget how shallow people can get. Is this the fame that San got everyday? Every stare was a mixture of confusion, awe, and lust.

"You can't just go out like this!" I screamed at a confused San when I closed the door behind me.

"Like what?" he asked. God, it felt weird to hear myself like that.

"That!" I incredulously said, hastily pointing at the nightgown San currently had on me. "You're basically naked, I'm basically naked!"

San rolled his eyes, plopping on my bed with a heaviness that annoyed me. "I tried putting on a bra," he mumbled, his ears red with embarrassment. "Don't look at me like that, I swear I did! How the hell do you women live with that thing? I couldn't breathe!"

I stared at him wide-eyed, a sudden thought infiltrating my mind and making me extremely nervous. "Did you, uhm," I stammered ridiculously. San lifted a brow to stare at me. "Did you look?"

He was confused at first, but when the realization dawned on him, his face reddened too. "No!" San boomed, clearly flustered at the accusation. I deadpanned at him. It was so fascinating.

"Contrary to your popular belief, I'm not like that," he scoffed, staring straight into me. "And you know it. I could say the same to you, though."

It was my turn to scoff at his ludicrousness. "Please," I sneered. "The little worm between your legs isn't even worth snooping at."

San crossed his arms with a dirty smirk on his face. "I suppose that's how I know you didn't look."

"Wha--oh," I faltered when I realized what he was talking about. He cackled when I threw a pillow at him. "You're disgusting," I spat. 

Everything dawns on me all once now that we've talked a little and are in the comfort of my own room. Thank the Gods I insisted on having my own back then, or this would've been more of a nightmare than it already was. 

We didn't say a word to each for a moment, lost in the discernment that we had actually really been switched - that this wasn't a joke and something had happened between us that we had no idea about.

I swallowed the lump that began to form in my throat. What if this was permanent? This could potentially destroy my life, and as much as I am upset with San, I don't wish to ruin his life, either.

I gasped softly when I felt my hand being massaged softly. "Calm down," San murmured. "We'll figure it out."

What was supposed to be relaxing, turned out to be nauseating for me. It's been so long and he still remembers what calms me down.

"This place is surprisingly nice," he said, looking around my room. "Who's paying the rent?"

"I am," I shrugged.

His grip on my hand tightens ever so slightly. "Your mom doesn't?" San asked in contempt.

I looked at him through his narrowed eyes. I can tell that there was no malicious intent behind the question, rather, he was sad. My chest pangs, it had that angst we both had when we were younger.

"As if," I scoffed weakly. "You know how it is, San..."

His eyes switched gears from contempt to cold anger that wasn't necessarily directed towards me. "Mark my words," he snarled. "One day, I will scrap that stepfather of yours, I swear to God, I'm going to--"

"You will do no such thing," I hissed angrily. "And how? Look at us, we're not in our real bodies right now! I don't know if it isn't obvious enough, but I'm not exactly the strongest bunch out there."

"That's not true," San dismisses.

"You don't get it do you? I'm so frustrated and I want to pound my hands on the floor like a toddler!"

"I get it, Y/N--"

"And it had to be you of all people! God, it's so easy to be cruel with you right now but I'm not like you---"

"Can you just shut your trap for once and let me think of what's happening?" San snapped, letting my hand go roughly. 

In my panic, a stupid idea pops in my head. "It was the kiss wasn't it?" I blurted out. I grabbed his (my) shoulders frantically. "We can just kiss again and it will undo itself!"

His eyes widened comically when I leaned down and crashed my lips against his. When nothing happens, I kiss him over and over again, until he pushes me off of him.

"What the hell are you doing?!" San squeaked. It dawned on me what I had just done and I blush hard. The only time I got to kiss San was when I did it myself from his body. What a sad way to live.

"You act like I wanted to do that," I fretted, trying to change the topic. My brain exploded when I saw him lick his lips slowly and his throat bob up when he swallowed. "That's your brain thinking for you, really? N-Not that you ever used it," I stammered.

"It's called being rational," he sighed. "Something you're not."

"Wow, look who's talking," I scoffed. "Spoken like a true asshole, you don't even know what's going on."

"You really are a cunt, aren't you?" San insulted. "Can you just please listen to me for once?" 

"Last time I did that, I was abandoned."

San paused, a flash of regret flashing through his eyes. He knew that I saw, but he made no effort to hide it, so he does what he does best - deflect blame.

"Ah, yes. You say that as if you were the first one to feel it, Y/N. What other insights have you bought me today?"

"I wonder if you're the worst person I've ever met. I hardly recall, but horrid people really do stand out, do they?" I rolled my eyes.

San sighed deeply, clearly frustrated. "Look," he began rubbing my temples. "We're going nowhere here, how about we research for now?"

He pointed at my bed where my laptop was. "We can use that for now. Do you have class today?"

This was how it was between him and I. We'd be fighting like cats and dogs then we'd work together temporarily to solve a problem. "No," I shook my head as I sat on my bed to grab the laptop. "I'm off for four days. Professor Lee is sick."

"Okay, good. We have the same professor," he sat beside me. My heart lurched when I felt the bed dip with the weight. "You want to use that or list information?"

"Paper," I mumbled, handing him the device. "You've always been better at technology."

It was the truth. He hummed in response, typing up stuff I barely even knew to begin with. "What was the last thing you remember last night?"

That was a good question. "I-I don't remember," I trailed off. "How did we both get home?"

"I was awake enough but not for long. I don't remember who took me, but I know Mingi took you home with what's her name, Saeyeon?"

"Seolhyun," I corrected. I felt my throat constricting with the newfound information. 

What San really meant was, 'I fought to be awake until I saw you safe.’

"I'm surprised your bunch didn't leave me stranded out there," I scoffed.

To my surprise, San smiled lightly. "They're not what you think," he said. It left a bad taste in my mouth, but I suppose I respected the love he held for them.

And then we were silent. We brainstormed and tried to research every little thing about our case. It was genuinely frustrating and disheartening, most of the things we found ranged from the supernatural to just pure fallacy.

Our case was purely unique. That or nobody who has experienced it documented it for the world to see. I don't blame them, I wouldn't believe anyone unless I was certain it was fiction.

"What's up?" I asked San, who kept staring at me while I wrote every detail he told me to. Maybe all the anxiety and nervousness I held was because of the way his eyes held me a prisoner.

"Nothing," he shrugged. "It's just that we haven't been in the same room for a long, long time."

I held his stare with a curious look in my eyes. He was right, I hadn't even thought of that. "What exactly are you thinking?"

"That I'm glad it was you," he answered with raw honesty. "This situation isn't ideal for the both of us, but I'm less terrified because it's you."

A puzzle piece of my heart once fell down, because it knew it never belonged there anymore. San left, he didn't belong with me anymore. It struck a nerve, what he just said, because I felt the exact same way - it was either him or nothing.

I nodded, holding my breath because if I didn't, I would say something I will regret. "Did you find anything?"

The small smile on his lips faded, but he nodded despite his feelings. It broke my heart to downgrade my expectations of him. "No," he cleared his throat. "Move in the frat house for the time being with me."

I raised a brow at his suggestion, but on the inside, my heart wanted to leap out my chest and onto San's hand. "Why?"

"I can't stay here, your roommates will notice," he explained. "And you can't stay alone in the frat house. They might look and act like idiots, but they're the furthest from it. They will know."

As much as I hated to admit it, San was right. "Where am I going to stay though?" I frowned.

"In my room. You sleep on the bed, I'll take the floor. We have extra futons," he shrugged nonchalantly.

I agreed immediately. I packed whatever essentials I need and some clothes enough to last me a while, because something is telling me that we're going to be like this for a while.

I left a note for Hyolyn and Seolhyun, saying that I'm going to stay with a friend for now because they're in trouble. Hopefully they don't sense that it's San.

"Don't get any ideas though," I mumbled when we both reached the front door of his frat house. "We're not friends."

He smirked as he rang the doorbell. "Wow. What's got you questioning our friendship?"

"I'm not questioning our friendship, San. I'm denying its existence."

San was about to retort something stupid, when the door suddenly opened. I had to stop myself from drooling at the sight in front of us. It was Kang Yeosang.

"Sannie?" a shirtless Yeosang appeared from the doorway. I knew he was handsome, but goddamn. "Why are you ringing the doorbell?"

I felt a sharp jab to my side, it was San elbowing me. "Uh, h-hi, can I s-stay here with him--her!" I stammered pathetically.

Yeosang stared at me like I was crazy. "You live here, San." 

Fuck.

Before I could incriminate myself further, San grabbed my arm and began pushing past an even more confused Yeosang. I heard him - me - curse under his breath when we reached the living room. 

Everyone was in there, I mean literally every single one of them, Ateez, were just lounging. They all turned to us with a mixture of shock and bewilderment. I get it, though. Me and San being together in one room without fighting was a miracle in itself.

"Don't ask!" San shouted as he dragged me into his room. It must have been because all they see is a tiny woman dragging a bigger man.

When he closed the door behind us, he laid it all out on me. "Seriously, Y/N?" he hissed. "Yeosang got you panting like a bitch in heat?"

"What can I say?" I taunted him. "I appreciate a hunk when I see one."

"You're lucky it wasn't Jongho," he seethed as he arranged the extra futon he was referring to on the floor. "Jongho would've literally chewed you out on the spot for acting weird."

I didn't bother replying. How was I supposed to tell him that he has been the only guy I've seen shirtless before?

We decided that tomorrow is another day, hopefully back in our respective bodies, and we can discuss tomorrow about our next move. For now, we will sleep.

It was comfortable, at least for me, I was in San's bed wrapped up in his scent. I shamelessly inhaled his pillow deeply, God, I've always loved his scent even before and especially now. I sighed, not being able to sleep despite being comfortable. He's matured now, both in looks and the way he acts.

After an hour or so of just thinking, sleep crept up to me, until it didn't.

"Y/N?"

My mind didn't register what I was hearing until San repeated my name over and over again. I got up and saw him already sitting down on the bed. "San? What's up?" I asked groggily.

"Can you help me? I-I'm scared," he stuttered, shaking his leg a bit. I guess some things don't change, San always does that when nervous.

I turned the lampshade he had on so I could take a better look at him. He was pale and genuinely scared. My heart started to hammer against my chest and I grabbed his hand out of reflex.

"Sannie?" I gently asked. "Tell me what's wrong."

"I-I think I'm dying," he professed. "M-My stomach h-hurts bad..."

Well, that woke me up completely. "Come again?" I blinked repeatedly at him.

With shaking hands, he pointed at the floor and at first I didn't see it, but when my eyes focused, I saw what appeared to be droplets of blood.

"Sannie," I called out. "Stand up for me, I need to look at something."

He did as asked and I sighed. As expected, the crotch area of his pajamas had blood on them. For the first time in a while, I felt bad for him.

"I'm sorry," I apologized genuinely. "I didn't know I'd be having my period so soon."

San's face drops in realization and relief when he hears that it was only technically 'his' period and he wasn't bleeding randomly to death. "Seriously, though?" I teased. "You had a sister and a mother, how could you not know?"

"You had me and male friends but you technically didn't know how it felt peeing from a dick," he snapped. 

"Touché," I chortled. I stood up from the bed and put a soiled shirt of mine on the bed and guided him to lay down on it. "I'm gonna go back to my dorm to get some pads for you," I mumbled.

"No need," he groaned. "Ask the first person you see downstairs. We have them on stash somewhere for people who visit."

I raised a brow at that. "You got so many bitches come over, you have feminine products on standby?"

San narrowed his eyes on me. "I told you," he gritted his teeth. "We're not like that. Hurry up, please. I think I'm going to throw up."

I laughed on the way out of his room. I want to leave him to suffer honestly, but unfortunately, I'm not like that. It was satisfying enough for a man to experience how difficult periods are for women.

I went back to the living room since it was the only place I knew for now, and I wasn't surprised to see it empty except for one man - Jeong Yunho. 

The senior law student sensed my presence and turned to look at me in surprise. "You're still awake?" he asked with a smile.

"I could say the same to you," I laughed nervously, hoping to appear normal by joking around. As far as he knows, I'm San. "D-Do you know where the pads are?"

I was expecting him to be disgusted and make a nasty joke about it, after all, most men are, but no. He nodded with a hum. To be fair, Yunho was well known on campus to be a gentleman, but still.

"We're out of them," he sighed. My heart dropped low in my stomach when he said it, but then he continued. "I'll see if I have some in my room. Come with me."

"In your room?" I asked flabbergasted as I followed him.

"Yeah. Yeni usually leaves hers here in case of an accident," he mumbled, rummaging through his unsurprisingly organized room. "I'm assuming Y/N had hers?"

I nodded slowly. Yunho acknowledged me with another hum. "You can ask Seonghwa for the stain remover. Check the balcony."

My mouth dropped in surprise. Yunho is talking about periods like it's the most normal thing in the world! While it is, frat boys are the last people on Earth to be totally fine with it!

"Here," Yunho handed me a couple of pads. "Goodluck, man."

When Yunho left, I was still frozen on the spot. On campus, Ateez were the typical party boys that ruled and were worshiped by everyone. There were many who disliked them, including me, but have I misunderstood them?

We'll see. Maybe it's only Yunho. I traversed through the whole house, careful not to be too loud since it was past midnight, and the balcony wasn't actually too difficult to find. I blushed when I saw a serious looking Seonghwa only wearing a tank top while he was buried in a mountain of books.

"Yunho?" I heard him ask without looking in my direction.

I was extremely nervous at this point. What if I say something and he'll catch on and figure out that I'm not San?

"N-No, it's me," I whispered. God, pretending to be San was a lot harder than it seemed.

He pauses from reading and looks up at me. I gulped when his sharp eyes hit me. From a distance, even on campus, Park Seonghwa had always looked intimidating to me, and right now, I wanted to bury myself in the ground with his scrutiny.

"San," he drawled with a small smirk. He glances at the pads on my hand. "You need the stain remover."

I nodded, not daring to say a word. It was unsettling, the way he looked at me as if he could see right through me. "Well?" Seonghwa asked in a tense voice.

"W-What?" I stammered.

"You bring the girl that hates your guts without me and Hongjoong's permission, you don't have anything to say about that?"

I bit my lip apprehensively. I'm going to strangle San the minute I get the hell out of here. "I-I'm sorry," was all I could say.

He sighed deeply. "I'm sure you have your reasons," he mused. "I don't mind her, I quite admire her spirit. She doesn't conform to the status quo and doesn't worship us mindlessly for no reason."

I didn't know if I should be even more terrified now or flustered with the compliment. "However," he continued. "Hongjoong is different. He's a little upset you're not standing up for yourself when she badmouths you. You're lucky he's at his internship abroad."

"It's not like you don't know I hate her as well," I blurted out before I could stop myself, but it was too late. I won't be scrutinized here when San hates me more.

"You do?" Seonghwa was puzzled. "But I thought," he sighed. "Whatever, you'll figure it out. Run along, stain remover is in your bathroom. I cleaned it earlier. I'll buy some ice cream for her. Did you get the warm compress?"

I was flabbergasted. "What?"

Seonghwa rolled his eyes. "For her cramps, you half wit. No wonder she hates you."

I thought nothing could shock me anymore than Yunho's kind attitude, but Seonghwa cleaning the bathroom? And he's pretty nonchalant about periods too! How in the world are they so normal about this? Of course I knew what warm compresses are!

And these are exactly what I told San when I came back to the room. Telling him that they ran out of pads was embarrassing, and apparently the pads I got were for when Yunho's cousin comes over, and the interaction with Seonghwa.

"Are you scared of Hongjoong?" San asked. He looked too amused for my liking.

"I'm more scared of Seonghwa, to be honest," I shrugged. "Put this blindfold on, I'm going to undress you."

San blinked at me, but did so anyway. It felt damn weird technically dressing myself. We got into the shower and San surprisingly wasn't making lewd comments, but I can see the blush rising up on his cheeks. It was my body, so I knew how it functioned.

"Seonghwa looks intimidating because of the way he carries himself," San said as I took my pajamas off of him. "I remember being more terrified of Hongjoong when I first met him. His tongue is sharp---can you be careful? It's ticklish."

"You know I'm ticklish," I mumbled. "Sharp how?"

"In a sense that he doesn't have to stick a knife in your chest to kill you," he chuckled. "How long do I have to wear these?"

"I'll let you know if we have to change it," I replied with my own blush. It felt so damn weird changing San, but technically it was my body I'm putting clothes on. But still, maybe I should just let San see my body?

I shook my head apprehensively, my face getting redder and redder because of how ludicrous my own thoughts were. No way I'd let him see even if it was hard.

"This feels so fucking weird," he whined as he kept adjusting himself. "It feels like I'm wearing a diaper!"

For the first time since we had switched bodies, I couldn't help but laugh out loud at his claim. San looks at me weirdly before laughing out loud as well. My heart didn't hurt this time, rather, I felt it healing.

"Usually, I'm a tampon person," I wiped an imaginary tear from my eyes. "But I don't think you will appreciate something inside you."

San's cheeks look like tomatoes at this point. "Yeah, you're right," he mumbled. "Thanks for the compress, it feels better."

I glanced at him shifting uncomfortably on the floor, tossing and turning to find the perfect sleeping position, but to no avail.

I sighed. "San," I called out. He took a peek at me. "Sleep here for now," I said, patting the side of the bed softly. His eyes widen into saucers. "Please."

He stayed unmoving, contemplating whether I was being serious or not. I don't blame him, this is the gentlest we've both been to each other since four years ago. When I scooted to make some space, he had resolved and decided to lay down next to me.

"Thanks," he groaned in pain after. "So this is what you guys go through every month?"

"Mhhm," I mumbled. "I'll help you."

"Why?" he smirked. "We're not friends, right?"

I pretended to be asleep so I could avoid him. I hope he can't hear how loud my heart is beating right now. He gave up and fell asleep himself. I can feel his body heat next to me, searing hotly. We used to sleep in one bed when we were younger, so what makes this one any different? I had no idea.

Soon enough, I didn't have to pretend to sleep. Then, I had another dream...

I winced in pain when San dabbed an alcohol-soaked cotton ball on my lips. "Please, Sannie, it really hurts," I cried.

"Shh, just bear with it okay? I don't want it to get infected," he hushed, his brows furrowed in concentration mixed with a little bit of displeasure.

"A-Are you mad?" I squeaked.

"No. Stay still."

"But you look mad."

He sighed, his hand caressing my cheek. I lean into it, hissing in pain once more. I forgot I had a bruise there as well. He cursed under his breath.

"I'm not mad," he confessed, his fingers lightly tracing the bruises, both old and new, across my face and neck. "At least not at you."

I gasped lightly when planting a small kiss at my forehead, his lips lingering on my skin longer than it should. "I'm so sorry, Sannie."

"Stop," he warned. "I never want to hear that from you." He plants another kiss on my bruised cheek. Suddenly, the pain wasn't there anymore. "I'm going to kill them, Y/N, I swear I'm going to," he growled.

I held his hand and gripped on it. Tears started falling from my cheeks and his eyes softened. "I-I'm fine, please don't," I begged. "He's just stressed, that's all--"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, enough of that bullshit!" San roared loudly, slamming his hands on the table. I whimpered loudly at the sound. "He's supposed to be your father, Y/N, and look at what he's doing to you!"

"I know, San, please," I wept.

"You have to report this, Y/N, I don't want to see you in a morgue one day," he pleaded. "If your mom had still been alive..."

His voice cracked towards the end. I pulled him towards me in a reassuring hug and we cried together as good friends did. "Live with me, Y/N, I'll take care of you," he implored in a way that broke my heart into little pieces.

And just like before, I have to tell him that I can't. "My stepfather will find me," I sobbed. "I can't let him hurt you."

That night I slept in San's room, on his bed while we talked all night about our dreams, with all the love and appreciation I never got with my own family.

The bloody period, figuratively and literally, was over and me and San took a break from all the fighting because even though I laughed at his pain, I did feel bad. My cramps often left me unable to walk sometimes.

I have to say, it wasn't all that bad. I have found utmost joy in opening jars that I wouldn't usually normally have in my real body. I can also reach higher places now and experience my feet touching the floor whenever I'm sitting down. In turn, I had to laugh at San's experience. He's so used to being big and strong and he's experiencing the opposite of mine.

"Can you stop pouting and act normal?" San hissed at me. "You're going to ruin my reputation like that—stop fiddling with it!"

"I'll just replace it with something else," I protested with an edge to my voice. "Seriously, it looks stupid."

San glared at me while fixing his jeans, my jeans, on him. "It's just an earring," he rolled his eyes dramatically. "I wear what you tell me, you don't see me complaining, do you?"

I sighed, annoyed. "Fine."

"Why? I can't do fashion?" he raised a brow at me.

We set out to leave my dorm this time. We've perfected our routine somewhat, by nighttime we go to the frat house, but by dawn we leave to go to mine before everyone wakes up. It was flawless because my roommates barely stay, the last thing I want is for people to think me and San live together. At least on my end. Surprisingly, Ateez has been very hush-hush about it.

"You tell me," I scoffed as we both walked towards campus. "I take it's the same reason you always dye your bangs blonde."

San paused from walking, stiffening as he stared on the floor with a faraway look in his eyes. I frown, looking back at him. He was already staring at me seriously. "Meaning?"

I shrugged nonchalantly. "What else?" He waits expectantly. "Come on, you know why. Do you not hear and see the other girls flocking and moaning your name repeatedly when they see you?"

He narrowed his eyes. "So basically, what you mean is I do it to pick up some pussy."

I was taken aback by his vulgarity. "Is there any other reason?"

"I don't know, have you ever seen me entertain a girl?"

I stop and all is quiet, hardly even a breeze around us. I bit my lip, deep in thought. He was right, there were obviously playboys but San's name was never involved in it.

He smirked, and I had to stop myself from cringing. Did I look that dumb when I did it? "So tell me," I dismissed.

"Let's just keep the peace, shall we?"

Taking a deep breath, we walked in the common area, the hallways, and the moment we did, people started talking. It was a horrible symphony I've heard over and over, but never before towards me. What would you do if fire and ice started acting as if they went well with one another?

"I didn't take you to be a philanthropist," I muttered, deflecting the whispers and the stares. The stares I got as San was good, but the stares that San got as me were the opposite, and he was taking it well.

"Well, we didn't necessarily get along that well, didn't we?" San smirked. "We still don't. Anyway, let's summarize what we researched so far before we get in class."

"Nil, zilch, nada, zip. Nothing except that it might be a curse," I sighed.

"Do you believe in that?" San frowned.

"It's a bit too late not to," I laughed sarcastically. "We're not in our respective bodies."

"Right. Do you remember what happened that day?" 

"It was raining, we were fighting, then accidentally kissed, then boom."

San stared at me, amused at the blush on - his - my cheeks. "We kissed again," he smirked. "Never really undid it, so that's out."

"This was a bad idea, we can't talk here," I shuddered at the stares directed towards us.

Suddenly his phone rings, and he frowns when he sees the caller ID. "It's Mingi," he sighed. "Pick it up."

I took the phone reluctantly. "What should I say?"

"Just go with whatever. He just looks rough but, Mingi's harmless," he assured. "Oh, and call him Mangi."

I raised a brow. I can't imagine the daunting Song Mingi being called by a cute nickname. "H-Hello? Mangi?"

"Oh, Sannie!" I was surprised how deep Mingi's voice was on the phone. "It's game night tonight before Thanksgiving, you in?"

"Yes?" I squawked out when San stomped on my foot. This brat!

"You sound unsure?" Mingi chuckled on the other end. "Figures. You've been with her lately. Finally, you learned how to have some balls. How is she anyway? Haven't seen her since that night."

I raised a brow. I decided to ignore that, it must be fraternity lingo. "G-Good, a little frazzled, but good."

"Good to hear. Well, tell her we all wish her good luck at the finals. I'll see you."

"Wait--oh damn," I trailed off when Mingi hung up. "What do we do?"

San took his phone back and patted my shoulders hard. I glared at him. "What else? You go," he smirked. "I have an exam to take, do I?"

I pushed his hand away from me. Here we go again. "Choi San, I've been studying my ass off for the very exam you're going to take for me," I hissed. "If you fail, I swear to God I will sell my soul to Satan just so I could live longer than you and shit on your grave when you die."

He cackled very loudly. "Oh my, that was a good one," he grinned. "Easy peasy, I'll take care of it."

"San, I'm being serious, please."

"I am too," he retorted, clearly offended. "You think I can't handle it? My major is harder and you know it."

"Biology and Economics are two very, very different things," I rolled my eyes. "You think this is peanuts?"

"Yeah, what did you major in? Stupidity?" San chuckles sardonically. I was about to slap his arm but then I stopped when I remembered that for now, I'm not a woman - that meant I would be a man hitting a woman. San seemed to realize it as well and smirked dirtily in my direction.

"I'll definitely fail you---"

"San!"

"Go to the frat house," he shrugged. "And pack your things after."

"Why? You're kicking me out?" I sarcastically asked.

"No," he scoffed. "Thanksgiving at my parents. You up?"

I paused, my features softening. I haven't seen his parents in years, the only people who actually cared for my well being and helped me when I needed it the most. I was forever grateful to them.

"Which car?" I asked.

His face lit up and I had to smile a little. "You wanna drive?" San smiled back.

The smile I was holding back showed itself at the question. I nodded enthusiastically. San remembered. When we were younger, driving was the only thing that relieved my stress when my stepfather abused me.

"What the hell are you looking at?" he hissed when I zeroed in on someone I saw walking from behind him. "Hurry before Mingi calls again!"

"Hold on, my senior is approaching, please act normal," I glared at him. "Or I will skin you alive."

“Ha! I’d like to see you try,” he rolled his eyes. “Seriously? You’re going to give us out!”

And just like that, we were back at our old ways of bickering. A really good friend of mine, Jeno, approached me with the cheeriest smile on his face while San and I just walked aimlessly around the campus.

"That's him? Seriously?" San snapped. "Wasn't that the guy who had been crushing on you since freshman year?"

"How the hell did you know about that?" I stared at him accusingly.

"Word travels fast," he shrugged, clearly annoyed. Then, he had this devilish grin on his face.

"Don't you dare, Choi San, don't you fucking dare---"

"Hey, Y/N!" Jeno finally jogged to both of us, panting a bit to catch his breath. He turns to me and nods slightly. "San."

"I'm sorry, what's your name?" San asked Jeno with that innocent look I used a lot on him.

My eyes widened and the world stopped for a moment. "Uhm, don't you remember me?" Jeno laughed nervously. "It's Jeno?"

"Nah, I could have sworn it was something dumber than that," San grinned mockingly.

Both Jeno and I gasped in shock at San's antics. I grabbed him before he could incriminate the both of us further. "Ah," I interrupted. " I hate to cut this short, but wow, I forgot we had to hurry and leave, haha."

"Yeah, you do that," Jeno trailed off in a daze.

I dragged San rather harshly, not caring if the people around us thought that I was manhandling a poor woman, yeah, my ass!

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" I screamed at him. "You can't just act like that when you don't like someone?"

San looked at me mockingly. "What, you like him, is that it?"

"Are you for real?!" I gritted my teeth. "Why are you dead set on ruining my life? Ugh!"

"I don't have an ax to grind with you though," he grinned.

"No, San. You just want to bury it in my back!"

I walked off and he followed me while he laughed his ass off. God, we were such a ticking time bomb together. Soon enough he was able to catch up to me, and before we knew it we were pretty much at the frat house at this point. We kept bickering and bickering, our taunts borderline offensive at this point.

True to his word, Mingi did call back just like San predicted. "This isn't over!" I glared at him.

With that, I put all my trust in San and went running to the frat house. I collected all the nerves I had stood strong in front of the door. 

Truth be told, my heart was pounding extremely fast. Even though they seemed kind so far, that was when I - technically San - was here. Now it was just going to be "just the boys".

"Hey, there he is! The man of the hour," Mingi beamed, ushering me inside where food and drinks lay all over the living room.  

"What's all of this?" I murmured, sitting beside the only person I knew so far - Wooyoung, since he would pester San - me - a lot, and for absolutely no reason, Yunho.

"You've been acting weird since you passed out that night," Yeosang shrugged. Cold sweat dripping from my scalp, did they know? I laughed nervously.

"What the hell is going on?" Yunho started. "Seriously San, are you okay?"

"Y-Yes, why do you ask?" I stammered, my heart beating a thousand miles per hour. The room felt small, like it was closing in on me.

"Something's wrong with you," Yunho narrowed his eyes. "It's like you're not you, for some reason."

I was nauseous at the remark, and I have never ever felt the urge to throw up like I was feeling right now. Were we and San that bad in acting?

"You don't talk to me anymore either," Wooyoung frowned. It was the most serious I've ever seen him. "Is it her?"

My chest felt like it might explode from all the questions getting thrown at me. It clicked all of a sudden - did they plan this "game" night just to pry? Did they know?

"Listen," Seonghwa sighed, reaching over to pat me on the shoulders. "Let's solve this before Hongjoong comes back. Tell us, San, do you have a problem?"

"No, I don't I swear!" I remarked a little too enthusiastically than I wanted to.

"Relax, we're not mad at you," Seonghwa frowned. "Mingi, tell everyone what you noticed."

The deep-voiced, criminal justice senior student cleared his throat. "The fact that you and Y/N come back late at night when you think no one is awake?" Mingi smirked. "Or is it when both of you leave at dawn when you think nobody is awake?"

This is where me and San fucked up. Of course everyone would notice, Mingi was the son of a renowned detective, Yunho was a law student, Seonghwa took sociology, Yeosang and Wooyoung were just damn observant. Jongho, I don't interact with that much.

"Is college getting too hard on you? Affecting your mental health?" Wooyoung thoughtfully asked.

Yeosang shook his head in amusement. "It's alright, we know you're pussy whipped."

I blush in embarrassment. San? With me? Impossible.

"I mean I get it," Wooyoung cackled with that annoyingly loud screech of his. "She's the talk of the campus right now."

My brain shut off immediately. Me? My eyes slowly widened with the thought of San doing something that will embarrass the living hell out of me. "W-What? Why?"

"Oh, you haven't heard?" Yunho raised a brow. "Your girl did a little too well on her finals. Who said it, Woo?"

"Changbin," Wooyoung chimed in. "He supervised the presentation and written exams." He teasingly wiggled his brows. "Said it reminded him of how you talk, it's like you guys switched bodies for a day or something."

I froze at that comment, my face twitching in an attempt to stop myself from falling apart at the moment.

I looked around and sighed in relief, it was just a joke. That was a close call. I’m literally sweating out of my pores. I tried to distract myself by listening to their banter, and soon enough, everyone forgot about me.

Except for one person.

Choi Jongho kept zeroing on me with an expression I couldn't pinpoint. I knew that he's aware that I noticed, yet he didn't look away. It was like he was dissecting me alive with his eyes and studying the composition of what made me, well, me.

I tried to brush it off, San did mention that Jongho was the atypical maknae - he didn't revel in being the youngest, rather, he would exercise its power and use it against everyone. If he wasn't staring at me like this, I would have found it cute.

"Ya, Mingi, stop clowning around and pass the food," Yunho rolled his eyes.

"Seonghwa is nearer!" Mingi blurted out.

I laughed when the dragon-looking elder raised a brow and everyone was suddenly friendly again to each other.

"Going home for Thanksgiving?" Yeosang asked curiously. I nodded, not wanting to say a word in case I gave myself away. I put food in my mouth so I have an excuse.

As much as I hated to admit it, but I understood why San chose them over me. They were fun to be around, and it was the type of friendship that extended outside college; it was the type you'd have forever.

Suddenly, the door opened and we all turned around to see San - technically it was my body - standing by the doorway. It got silent as everyone stared at him as he slowly went upstairs. I saw the pain in his eyes and I felt awful because he couldn't join in.

"Y/N, don't go."

It was Jongho. "There's plenty of meat for everyone. Come."

My heart swelled. That was technically San in my body, but in extension, it was like Jongho was asking me to join. I felt relieved, they never really talked to "me" like that, just the occasional greeting.

And just like that it was back to normal. I can tell San was happy, meat was his favourite food after all.

I dropped my chopsticks. They clattered on the table and no one seemed to notice. I looked at the meat, and then San, and then Jongho, who was already staring at me with a blank look in his eyes.

My eyes widened when he smiled, genuinely smiled, at me. He mouthed something I quickly understood because San said the same thing to me.

"I'm glad it was you."

I felt like crying when we finally reached San's parents house after a couple of hours driving. Nostalgia hit me hard as I stared at the door, a symbol of hope I had when I was younger. 

"Let's take it easy here, okay?" San knocked on the door a couple of times. "I don't want my mom suspecting anything."

"As long as you don't piss me off we're good," I rolled my eyes, fixing my outfit even though I have to pretend to be San anyway.

"I can't help it," he chuckled. "We have to figure out how to survive, I suppose. Plus, it's only 2 days. You got something?"

"Yeah, San. High blood pressure."

San laughed really loud. "I love your comebacks," he drawled. "It turns me on--"

He was interrupted when the door suddenly opened before I could smack San. There stood the person who took care of me the most, smiling with tears of joy in the corner of her eyes.

"Oof!" San exclaimed when his own mom hugged him - me - instead.

"Y/N, my dear, I'm glad San," she glared at me, thinking I was her son. I had to stop the urge to laugh. "Finally bought you home! Oh, it's been so long!"

"L-Long time no see, Mo--Mrs. Choi," he nervously laughed, glancing at me for help. I pretended that the floor was suddenly interesting.

"Come along, both of you, I prepared so much food," she beamed, grabbing both of our hands and leading us inside the house. I loved how she always reached out to me first even after all these years. I knew San didn't mind either.

We exchanged greetings with his father, who also stood by me, and his sister, a friend I had when San was busy. Even the most mundane things felt so normal to me here. Finally, after so long, I was finally home.

When we were seated at the dining table, my soul felt at peace when I sat in my original seat. They cared for me so much, they designated a chair for me. It's a shame San ruined everything.

"So, biology treating you, kiddo?" Mr. Choi smiled at me while he put some meat on my plate. "Eat up, son."

"Wonderful. Graduating this year," I replied. I kept my answers short even though I had so much to tell. It was just how San was. 

Mr. Choi put his hand on my shoulders and I couldn't help but smile at it. Granted, he thought it was his son, but still. I'm going to take all that I can get. He mentions how proud he was and I couldn't help but revel in it.

Dinner was pretty fun, the most I've had in years. We just fell into the rhythm, not caring about what will happen to both of us in the future.

"So, Y/N, any news I should know between you and my Sannie?" Mrs. Choi beams, wiggling her eyebrows in a teasing manner.

San continues eating, and I clear my throat. He looks startled and I point my eyes sharply at his mom. "I'm sorry?"

Mrs. Choi giggles like a teenage girl looking for gossip. It was honestly so cute. "Anything going on between you and San?"

San heaved a long sigh. "No, Mom, nothing is," he grumbled silently. 

I choked on my food, and everyone's utensils clattered on their plates. This idiot!

He noticed everyone looking at him with wide eyes. "W-What?" San cowers a bit at the attention. As if lightning hit him, his own eyes widened and he started to wave around like a fool as he realized what was up. "No, no, wait, it's not--"

Mr. Choi hits my back proudly and I choke more. "That's my boy! Finally, we knew this would happen!"

We couldn't even put a word in, Mrs. Choi was already tearing up and sniffling and hugging San. He gulped when I glared at him hard. Communication by staring does wonders for both of us. "Oh, finally, my babies are together," she sniffled.

And that was how we both ended up in his room together despite protesting that we shouldn't. 

"You blithering idiot!" I laid it all on him, and pulled his - my - hair hard. Now I get why people do it.

"Ow!" San screamed furiously. "Stop! You ungrateful bitch that hurts!"

"You slipped, how can you slip?!" I screamed.

He got pissed and reached up to pull my ear down in his direction. I yelped in pain. "That's my mother, how can I not miss?!" 

"Your mom thinks we're dating! Are you okay with that?" I pushed him down rather aggressively. He glared at this 'you-dare-use-my-own-strength-on-me' look.

"It's fine. That's where it will end anyway," he shrugged, plopping on his bed lazily.

"No. I'd rather gouge my eyes with a spoon," I scoffed, but on the inside, I was screaming in confusion.

He raised an offended brow up. "Goddamn it, if you think I'm unattractive just fucking say so."

"That's the problem, San. I think you're alarmingly attractive."

A dark look passes through his eyes. It's crazy that even though I was looking at my own eyes, it looked so much like San's instead. Before I could take back what I said, I was pulled harshly towards the bed. I yelped when the bed came in contact and my breath stopped when I saw San hovering over me.

"So, you think I'm hot?" San smirked.

I tried very hard not to look in the eye, focusing on the ceiling as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"I think you're insane," I laughed nervously.

"You know what?" San whispered. "Maybe this weird shit happening to us wasn't so bad after all."

I completely stopped breathing when he leaned down to my ear, the same ear he pulled earlier. "We would've graduated and never saw each other again." 

That was true. All I ever wanted was to move on with my life, and I was prepared to do it without San, even though it would have killed me.

"You betrayed me," I whispered back, my voice cracking with all the emotions I hid from him all these years ago. "You gave me back to that monster. Look."

With a shaky hand, I pulled the dress I made him wear on my body to reveal a badly disfigured shoulder. It was ugly; disgusting. The skin was mangled with burn marks and had darkened in time. Unshed tears started to pool in the corner of my eyes as San's jaw tightens. 

"How could you do this to me?" I questioned. It was the same question I asked him four years ago.

He adjusted the dress back on his shoulder and held my hand on his. He put it against his lips and kissed it so tenderly, I barely felt it. "I am so sorry," he sighed. "You will understand one day."

My brows shot up in confusion. This was the first time I was hearing this. "What do you mean?"

"Why don't we sleep for now? We'll talk tomorrow?" 

I frowned, angry, and I wanted to be angry, but I was too tired to be angry at him because there was no point in feeling so. I knew he was changing the topic and even if he pretended to be fine, it was the fine details - the ticking of his eyes, the quivering of his lips, the slight breathing pattern change, the dilation of his pupils. He was extremely angry.

I gulped. "San--"

"Please," he pleaded, his voice barely audible from my ears. "Can we pretend for one night that nothing had ever changed between us?"

He wiped one lone tear that escaped from my eye, and for the first time since it had happened, I cursed the Gods for switching us callously. I wanted to feel his arms against mine, his soft breaths hitting my skin as he shielded from every trouble that dared touch me. 

But no. I was San for now, and he was me.

The air was tangible, one wrong word and the little bubble we had wrapped ourselves will pop. I laid on the bed with San giving my head little pecks here and there.

"You know," I began. "I never got to thank you for getting me an A++ on my finals."

He chuckled from above me. "They told you before I came back, didn't they?"

I hummed in response, but not saying anything back. Once again it was silent, the only thing we could hear was our breathing. Dare I say it was the most comfortable thing I've ever heard.

"Y/N?" San suddenly asked. When I didn't respond he continued. "What if one day, you find out that everything you knew was a lie?"

I tensed against his hold. I wasn't expecting a question that deep right now. "Is this about why you left me?"

"Answer the question."

"I don't know, Sannie. It depends on the lie," I responded. "I don't even know you anymore."

It was his turn to tense. It was a mirror of his anxiety. He cleared his throat rather loudly. "There's a lot about you that you don't know, Y/N."

"Like what?"

He taps my nose with his finger before they go up and fluff the blonde piece of hair he had. "For one," he smirked. "I don't dye this. I have poliosis. Haneul has one too, she just dyes hers dark."

I was at a loss for words, dumbfounded at the revelation. "What?" I almost screeched. "You never told me this!"

He tucked me inside the blanket, almost lovingly, just like I used to when we were younger. "The world is cruel to people like me who are different, I didn't want you to think I was a freak," he shrugged and I felt my heart breaking into pieces. "I'm so sick of seeing my failures in your eyes."

My chest exploded with a million emotions and it hit me - I still loved him. I was in love with him then, and I am still in love with him now.

"San," I spoke with uncertainty, looking deep into his eyes.

There was so much I wanted to say. Falling in love with him was easy, it was admitting to myself how hard I fell. When he asked what if my life was a lie, he didn't know that I was the one lying to myself. I suppose he never noticed, and I could ask him, but what's the point? 

For now, we were here, and I was glad.

"Where are we going?" I asked nervously when San lead to an unfamiliar route from the road we were supposed to take. His hold on my hand loosened and I felt him shaking.

"Just a little bit, we're almost there," he cryptically said.

"I'm so excited," I giggled. "Are you excited?"

"Y-Yeah, I am," he replied. I frowned, maybe he was just as nervous as I was.

We finally ran away, San had finally taken me away from my monster of a stepfather who did nothing but destroy me as a person, but guess what? He will never succeed.

That is, until I saw his red car parked in the far distance, the moonlight shining on it as if it was mocking me.

"San?" I croaked, halting my steps. I knew I wasn't seeing things, that was him. "San!"

I felt him pull into my hand and when I wasn't moving, he forcefully pulled me until we reached that dreaded car. I was a crying mess, especially at the thought of my only friend betraying me. 

"San, please, don't do this to me," I begged over and over again, reaching to him pitifully when my stepfather grabbed my hair roughly and pushed me into his car. "San, please!"

He stood there, watching as we drove away. I pounded on the back windows, hoping he would snap out of whatever it was that urged him to do this, but nothing. He just stood there, until he was no more.

"Sit properly, you whore!" I heard my stepfather scream.

"Let me go, you demon, just let me go!" I screamed.

"Shut the fuck up, yeah?" he snarled, taking the cigarette from his dirty mouth and extinguishing it on my exposed shoulder.

Now that I think of it, he was acting extremely odd that day. Even if it had been that long already, I knew he wasn't himself. That was four years ago, surprisingly, the abuse did stop. The broken bones and repetitive bruises had healed over time. That rat knows he can't beat me into submission anymore since I was in college now.

Suddenly, his phone rings and when he glances at the caller ID, he curses loudly. "Fuck," he gulped. "It's Hongjoong."

My heart dropped to my stomach. I've been a squatter in the frat house and I've never interacted with the one and only Kim Hongjoong. "I thought he was overseas?"

"Not anymore, I guess. I'll handle it," he murmured. "Hello?"

“Ah, Y/N. Fancy talking to you.”

We froze, cringing hard. San just mindlessly answered the phone, forgetting that he was in my body with my voice. Hongjoong continued before San replied.

"Dare I say that the owner of this phone is with you since you have it?"

"Yes," San coughed. He quickly covered the phone and turned to me. "See what I mean? He's sharp-tongued," he hissed. "Are you back?"

"Interesting. Listen, I got nothing against you, sweetheart, you'll get your turn soon. Pass the phone to San."

Oh, he was pissed. San blabbers, "But--"

"Now."

San reluctantly passes the phone to me. "H-Hello?" I stammered.

"Choi San, do you take me as stupid?"

My eyes widened, dread filling my body. "N-No, not at all."

"Yeah? You think I didn't know you were sneaking around at night and morning? Come home. We need to talk."

"B-But--"

"I know your schedule. You didn't even say goodbye before Thanksgiving. I'm warning you, San. I'm at the airport and you better be back before I do, or else. Drive safe."

Unfortunately, we had to cut that trip short by a day. It was hard to tell his parents, but the assurance of me and San being "together" seemed to make them happy.

"You have to fix this before it gets too far," I frowned at San while we walked back to the frat house. "I don't want to break your mom's heart."

"I will figure it out," he rolled his eyes.

I snapped. "Which means you'll let it slide and hope they'll forget! You owe me, Choi San, you screwed me over with Lee Jeno too!"

"Oh, for crying out loud, Y/N!" San glared harshly at me. "He just wants to get into your pants!"

There was still one day left of vacation so there was nobody around the campus to hear both of us scream at each other's ear. It wasn't until San stopped talking and walking all together when I realized that something was wrong.

And something was very wrong indeed.

"San," I gasped in total shock.

There, in front of the frat house was the red car that I rode every time I had to go to the nearest clinic from all the abuse and trauma I had to endure during my early years. We can both hear my stepfather arguing loudly with none other than Seonghwa, and he was both looking for me and San.

"For the last time, I don't know where they are!" Seonghwa screamed, the anger and authority rolling off of him even from a distance. "And even if I did, I would never tell you."

My stepfather smirks dirtily. "Watch your mouth, boy, I could knock you out right now," he spat.

"I'd like to see you try--stay in the damn house, Yeosang. Tell Hongjoong to hurry up," Seonghwa rolled his eyes, crossing his arms haughtily at my stepfather.

"Get him the fuck out of here then," Yeosang growled. I was stunned, I have never heard him so angry before.

My stepfather seethes in anger at Seonghwa and Yeosang's insubordination. If there was one thing he hated, it was when someone else had the upper hand.

San protectively puts his body in front of me to protect me, not that it mattered, he was in my body; my weak body.

I held onto San for balance. We weren't supposed to be back today and Seonghwa knew it. "Stay with me, okay?" San whispered. "We're going back in the car, watch your step."

But it was too late. I accidentally stepped on a drying leaf, and its crunching sound as my foot hit it reverberated all over the empty campus grounds. I was shaking at this point, the fight between me and San long forgotten when Seonghwa and Yeosang stared at us in shock from the distance.

"San, I'm scared," I whimpered pathetically.

"I'm going to handle this, okay?" San assured me, but even I could hear the tremble in his voice.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my lovely daughter?" my wretched stepfather cackled evilly as he started to walk towards us.

Here was the monster that ruined my life, standing in the very place I was expecting him to pop out the least, in the flesh. There was something so profoundly evil about him, he was so rotten to the core that I was surprised he hadn't started decaying from the inside.

"I am no daughter of yours," San seethed, still shielding me from behind. I shook his shoulders hurriedly in panic. I whispered, terrified, that he hated it when I backtalked.

Even after all these years, years I spent on campus because I refused to go home even on vacations, I was still utterly terrified of this man. When Seonghwa tried to approach us, I shook my head vigorously.

"No?" my stepfather smirked. "Being in this dump has taught you to be disobedient, yes?"

I screamed when he aggressively slapped San square in the face, something I knew hurt since I've been the target of that for years. My heart stopped when I completely forgot that San was in my body, and that body was weak.

"Wake up, please, wake up, don't leave me again," I sobbed as my stepfather laughed at my pathetic attempts to wake up San, who was clearly disoriented from the powerful backhanded slap.

"Choi San, was it?" 

I flinched when I realized that he was referring to me. "My, you have grown into a fine young man," he cackled like a maniac once more.

He went down to my level to whisper. "You good for nothing bitch," he whispered sadistically. "I thought I told you I'd kill her if I see you with her again?"

What if one day, you find out that everything you knew was a lie?

"You were always like a little tick that sucked the innocence out of my baby girl," he mockingly declared. "Well, not anymore."

He was about to try and carry my body out - San - but I stopped him, courage suddenly filling my lungs. "What the hell do you want from us?" I growled aggressively. "Haven't you taken enough for me?"

He raised a brow at the declaration, and I knew I slipped, but I didn't care. "You gave her to me willingly," he scoffed, red in the face. "Pathetic, one word from me saying I'd be 'better' and you believe it?"

What if one day, you find out that everything you knew was a lie?

"What?" I felt my heart breaking to tiny little pieces once more.

My bastard stepfather laughed mockingly in my face. "This college rubbish has ruined her. I will marry this slut to a business partner of mine to expand," he spat. All the blood rushed to my head when I heard this. "Out of my way, brat!"

In one swoop, my body was in his arms and leapt up to try and grab San out of his grip. Once more, I thank God that San worked out and was strong enough. "You sick, sick, son of a bitch," I seethed, an anger I never let out before. 

He faltered for a moment before kicking me on my leg, but he was never going to win. He laughed and temporarily dropped an unconscious San, who was again, in my body still, on the dirty ground.

"I should have killed you a long time ago," he sadistically remarked. 

We fought right there and then and for a moment, I had the upper hand. My wounded childhood was the one spurring me on as my fists pounded on him repeatedly as I straddled him. Each punch on his clownish face as he lay on the floor felt like a win.

Until it wasn't. In a twist of events, he had managed to flip me over when I got too emotional and straddled me instead, his sick grin widening as he tried to blow a punch. A burst of adrenaline went through me and I held his fists to stop him from punching, struggling since at the end of the day, this still wasn't my body.

"I'm going to have fun ruining your face, pretty boy," he grinned maniacally, blowing punch after punch and so far, I've been avoiding them.

But that can only last so long. I was slowly getting tired and tired and he did manage to hit me once. Stars flooded my vision and I gave up. He was about to punch me again, his fist up in the air and going down and I just waited for the impact to happen.

It never came. 

I could have cried when Hongjoong came just in time and pulled my stepfather, who was extremely shocked, away from me. It happened so fast, my stepfather was now fighting Hongjoong and I took that opportunity to crawl towards my body while whispering San's name.

"Easy there, buddy..."

I felt myself being lifted up and I got nervous at first, until I saw Mingi's face above me as he was trying to lift me up from the floor. He put my arm across his shoulders and we huddled close to San's body.

"Now!" I heard Hongjoong shout and I looked up just in time to see Yunho deliver a punch, himself, and it managed to knock my stepfather out cold on the ground.

"Holy shit," I heard Yunho mutter to himself. Who knew that the gentle giant had it in him?

"Wooyoung, go get her," Hongjoong pointed at San, his voice tight and tense. It was an authority I have never, ever felt on anyone before and it honestly made me a bit more terrified of him than all of the Ateez members combined.

"The rest," he panted tiredly and began to walk inside the house. "The rest, get that motherfucker inside and tie him up on the chair, I don't fucking care which."

It was about time anyway, it started to rain all of a sudden and we all made a big run for it inside before we got soaked.

Once Wooyoung carried my body and laid it down on the couch next to where Mingi had placed me, Hongjoong lay it all out, screaming at the top of his lungs with an anger that could have made the Earth tremble and shake.

"I'm gone for a couple of months and this is what I come home to?" Hongjoong shouted, the sound of it so loud it rendered us speechless. My God, he was terrifying. "Nothing to say?"

"I mean, nothing big," Jongho muttered, "It's just that--"

"I'm hearing excuses, Jongho," Hongjoong sarcastically laughed as he banged his hands on the table. "I don't want to hear it. You're the temporary leader, Jongho, what happened?"

I was surprised. All this time, I thought it was Seonghwa. Jongho sighed deeply. "Well, we can start from the beginning," he shrugged, turning to look at me. "Y/N? Who the hell is that?"

"Yes?" I replied almost instantaneously in a panicked state. "Oh, my stepfather--I mean, I don't know!"

I was met with the most surprised stares and the heaviest of gasps. I covered my mouth quickly with widened eyes when I realized what I just did. Jongho crosses his arms and smirks.

"I told you so," he gloated.

We hear a series of groans and I quickly help San get up and sit up properly on the coach and he was as surprised as I was when he noticed everyone staring.

But most of all, I was terrified of Hongjoong. "Well, I'll be damned," he clicked his tongue. I frowned at his lack of surprise.

San sighs heavily. "You guys know, don't you?"

"Wait, hold on a minute," Wooyoung interrupted, waving his hand around. "So all this time when I've been showing you cat videos, it was you?"

I nodded sheepishly, suddenly uncomfortable with all the stares. I can literally hear everybody's gears turning as they internalized all the events that happened during the last few months.

"This is ridiculous," Seonghwa remarks, narrowing his sharp eyes. "How do we know that this isn't some prank?"

Then it starts. Mingi's cheeks reddened when he realized that he has been shirtless a lot of times with me. Yunho laughed when he remarked that he had been wondering why San had been suddenly interested in gaming with him.

"Wait, wait," Yeosang interrupted the ruckus with a loud laugh. "So, San was the one with the period that time?"

"Shut up," San seethed when everyone burst out laughing like maniacs. He points to me accusingly. "You should have seen her when she had the morning wood."

My cheeks were up in flames when I remember when I felt that painful sensation down there one morning; it was painfully hard, sticky, wet. Everybody laughed for a minute straight when me and San started selling each other out, and we looked at each other out.

As usual, one person wasn't saying anything. "How did you know?" I asked a smirking Jongho.

He hesitates, contemplating if he should tell me. "Because it happened to me, as well," Jongho shrugged. "Though not as long as you guys."

All hell broke loose at that statement and the million question was - who did Jongho switch temporarily with?

He glances at someone in particular, and follows his line of sight. "No way, there is no fucking way," Seonghwa cursed. "You?"

"It was last year," Hongjoong shrugged, sitting on the couch lazily. "Lasted for only three days though, I'm not sure why you guys haven't returned yet."

"I don't believe it," Seonghwa narrows his eyes at me and San, and then Jongho and Hongjoong. "Proof or I’m kicking everyone out."

I shrunk. Of course, I wouldn’t expect anything less from the sociology major.

Jongho has this devilish grin on his face. "Remember last year when we all went to that all paid expense getaway?" he laughed. "Surely, you don't think he..." he jutted his thumb at a seething Hongjoong. "...would plan that in the middle of nowhere?"

Another type of hell broke loose at that, but I was at a loss for words. I had nothing to prove myself for. San and I haven't spent the last few years together. "I...I don't know," I admitted. "I can't prove it."

"I can."

Everyone looked at San expectantly. He had this forlorn face, and I got nervous. Something tells me that I wasn't going to like what I was going to hear. "It's about that asshole over there."

He pointed at my stepfather, who was still knocked out. He was tied tightly on a rickety chair. I saw everyone's face tense when San said it. I stared at him, all the hurt that I had buried within me coming out in waves and I had hoped that San was just making it up. The look on his face confirmed that he was not.

"S-San?" I whispered, the betrayal hitting me for the second time. I looked at each and everyone of them. "You all know something."

I stood up from the couch angrily, everyone's eyes on me as angry tears started falling from my eyes. "You left me that day, gave me up like I was some trash you didn't want!" I shouted at San. "You made me believe that you were finally saving me..."

"Y/N, please calm down, I can explain," San begged, hugging my waists hurriedly. Well, thanks to his own strength, I managed to break away. "Y/N, please..."

Both Wooyoung and Yunho stood up to comfort me by holding my hand and rubbing my back soothingly. I couldn't push them away, they were always nice to me. The others just stared at me with pity in their eyes.

I felt the world slowly crashing down on me. I must look stupid, but nobody had ever asked why it had protected me all these years. "And you!" I angrily pointed at Hongjoong and Jongho. "You knew about me and San's predicament!"

Jongho sighed, his eyes softening. "I'm sorry, I really am," he apologized. "Hongjoong and I have been working on it."

Hongjoong rubbed his temples. "Everyone, to your rooms. Now. Jongho, stay."

Everyone that passed me offered me consoling words, and that they were sorry. It was just me, San, Hongjoong, and Jongho left.

"I offer my apologies to you sincerely," Hongjoong began, facing my body as he spoke. "Although I can't say I'm too pleased with you, I understand your predicament."

"What the hell does that mean?" I scoffed.

Hongjoong raised his brow in amusement. "It's not really a secret that you hate Ateez, my dear, and in turn..." he gestured to San. "Him. Can I tell you a small secret?"

"Go ahead," I frowned.

"We are a peaceful group," he began. "The parties were a front for all the charity we do here."

I was surprised. He gestured at the big mirror at the wall and I stared at it. I gasped when he told me to look harder. It was a two way mirror. "A secret room?" I asked.

Hongjoong nodded. "I didn't want anyone randomly coming in and out of here, it was the best we could do. The feminine products were usually what the party people left behind."

It all made sense in my head - how people just worshiped them wherever we went, some of them with admiration, how San always defended them and how he absolutely hated it when I talked shit about them.

"As for your switch," Hongjoong cleared his throat. "We don't know why or how it happens, and honestly? We never dug deep into it, so unfortunately in that area, I'm afraid we can't help you."

My heart sank at his words. "So, we're going to stay like this forever? How did you guys turn back?"

"Hongjoong and I were arguing last year," Jongho started. "I'll spare you the details, let's just say it almost tore this group apart."

I saw San's brows lift up in surprise. Jongho continued. "I don't remember who, but one of us lowered our pride, and then the next day? Poof." Jongho gestured with his arms. "We were back."

"That's it?" San was spiteful and so was I. "We've pretty much solved our issues and we're still like this. You two never thought to look into it further?"

Hongjoong and Jongho looked at each other. "No," Jongho said. "Something out there that has this immense power and isn't meant to be questioned. You think whatever was out there playing with us will suddenly yield and listen?"

"Are there more of us out there?" San asked dreadfully.

"Yes," Hongjoong confirmed. "It's a secret we'll keep, however. Just like we'll keep yours. I'll talk to the boys. And as for this son of a bitch?"

He glared at my stepfather. "Leave it to me."

This was too personal. I got up and left the house in entirety despite everyone's protests from behind me. I swung the door open forcefully and ran out to the soaking rain aimlessly. It reminded me of that night when San and I switched as I looked up to the sky. There was also thunder looming up.

Where do I even begin? I cried as I walked aimlessly trying to find a way out of the campus. I only realized that the rain was cold because of all the adrenaline rushing out of me quickly and I stride forward, screaming and howling.

"Y/N, wait!"

I turned around and it was San, drenched just like me with the most gut-wrenching expression on his face. Tears free falled from his eyes, like the rain. "Let me explain, I'm begging you, please," he pleaded with all his might.

I slapped him, the sound of it louder than the thundering rain. His lips quiver and I almost gave in right there. "How can I ever trust you?!" I screamed at him.

He kneeled on the gravel, something I know would have bruised my knees, and looked up to me with the most forlorn expression. "Please, don't shut me out," he wailed. "My heart won't be able to take it."

It was just us, rain soaked in the melodramatic scene unfolding right in front of us. "You gave me to him, San!" I sobbed pathetically and tried my best to shove him off of me. "He ruined my life!"

I ripped him off of me and tried to run away, but I stopped when he hugged me from behind and buried his face on my back. His wails broke my heart to a million pieces. He began muttering something that I couldn't understand.

"Speak up before I get angrier!" I shouted. My tongue was a sword I'd sharpened because I was so sick of getting. "There was a time I'd lay down my arms for you, San--"

"He said he would never hurt you anymore if I gave you back to him!" he screamed.

Everything stopped at that moment - there was no wind, no tears, raindrops that fell stopped in time - it was just me and San. "Please, Y/N, please just listen to me--"

"I can't think of anything worse," I scoffed. "You think I believe you?"

"I swear!" San sobbed. "He said he'll kill you and find you if you don't return, Y/N..."

He turns me around and grabs my face in his hands, staring deep into my eyes as more tears fall from my eyes. Everything hit me all at once, the beatings did stop but I thought it was because I went to college and he couldn't touch me.

"I should have been stronger for you that time," San wailed, leaning his forehead against mine. "There was never a day I didn't regret it."

We sobbed in each others arms as we got rained on, shivering like leaves, but we didn't care. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" my voice cracked. "Why didn't you tell me?!"

"I don't know, Y/N, I don't know!" he wept, desperately clinging onto me as I tried to get away from him. "I thought I was doing what was best for you..."

The moment I realized that I had misinterpreted his actions, his words, all of him for those years, that moment was when my heart broke even more. 

"Do you hate me that much, San?" I bellowed. It was the good kind of breaking; the type that led to healing and new ways onward.

"I don't, but I don't like you like that," he whispered. Sometimes, the loss of words would have said more.

His quivering lips landed on my forehead. "Because I love you," he confessed. 

MY heart soared, but I wasn't going to let him in. "You left me, San. You were all I had then you were gone!"

"You loved me?"

"That's all you heard?" I scoffed.

"What about now?" San asked hopefully. "Do you still love me?"

I laid all the truth out. "I don't know," I admitted. It was still raining at this point. "When you left, I had decided back then that our futures were different, even though we grew apart, and you know what I hate?"

I laughed sarcastically, tears falling from my eyes again, and I probably looked crazy. "I still held you above others. I still loved you even though I had nothing, no safety, no rights, no place to go, and no one to call to get me out of the hell I was placed onto." 

San grabbed my chin and tilted it upwards. "No," he whispered. "You never stopped loving me, please don't say you loved me."

We have always been like this, I realized - a ticking time bomb. It was worse now, especially now that we were older and the way San was looking at me, I knew that we were destined to explode.

"I can't let you go," he said, holding me closer. "I'm never going to let you go. I will always hate myself for letting our love die."

He held gaze, and it could have burned me with how intense it was. He was bitter, those eyes held loneliness. "I know forgiveness is not your strong suit," he whispered. 

"San," I cried.

"There was a point where I wouldn't know what to say if I had you," he chuckled remorsefully. "Forgive me."

I guess these were our final days separated and I can say without a doubt, nothing ended the way I thought it would. Both of us leaned together and our lips finally met and it felt right, as if our souls had been intertwined a long time ago.

And then we felt it - that hot, familiar, searing pain that passed through us, only this time, we didn't pass out.

When I opened my eyes, I was looking through San's uncertain ones this time. The real San. I looked down at my body and lifted the small hands I knew I had instead of San's big and rugged ones. 

"Oh my God!" I screamed ecstatically, jumping up and down happily. "We're back, San, we're back!"

"Thunder and forgiveness," San laughed sweetly. "Who would have thought?"

"I'm freezing though," I giggled, finally letting go of all the pain and suffering. "My dorm?"

San smirks mischievously, and I screamed joyfully when he lifted me up in his arms and started running hurriedly out of the rain. We missed being in our bodies so much that we reached my dorm in record time with San kicking the door down so harshly that it might have been broken, but we didn't care.

We kissed each other as we hurriedly took our clothes off, not breaking our lips. This is what I wanted, I craved for him - his scent, his warmth, and just him as a person.

I giggled when San bit my lips, each gentle bite giving pleasurable zings of electricity straight down there. I clenched my legs together as San pinned me by the wall, holding my arms up as he grabbed my hands and pinned them as well.

We broke the kiss to take a big gulp of air and the longest, deepest stare followed. "I love you," San whispered, this time giving me the slowest, sweetest kisses against my lips. "I love you so much."

Tears flowed from my eyes and through my tears I whispered back. "I love you too. Now fuck me before I go insane."

His eyes widen and he throws his head back and laughs out loud, his cute dimples showing on his cheeks. "Hold on," he laughed. "I've had your body for months yet this is the first time I've seen it. Let me admire it, please?"

I blushed, embarrassed by the way he says it. He laughs at my predicament. "San, come on..."

"As my princess commands," he smirked, leaning down on my ear. "I'm going to make you scream."

"San," I moaned softly when his hands slid down and gently squeezed my naked ass.

"Oh, I know you already feel good," he groaned. "Are you sure you want this?"

I nodded and he sighed. "Tell me now," he said softly. "I'm not going to be able to hold back."

I gave him a shy smile, and went on my tippy toes to give him a small peck on the lips as my hand reached between his legs and began pumping his already hard cock back and forth slowly, teasing him and relishing the small grunts he was making.

"You like that?" I asked him softly.

"Mhhm," he groaned deeply. The way his face contorted into pleasure was sending me. "Keep going..."

I continued playing with his length - which by the way, definitely wasn't a little worm. He was above average; not too big, but definitely not small either. It was perfect and I loved it regardless. I couldn't hold back a shudder as I felt him buck his hips sensually over and over again on my hand.

He was confused when I suddenly stopped, his eyes glossing over something dark when I kneeled down until my face was eye level with his cock.

"Baby," he croaked when I looked up at him. "You don't have to."

"But I want to," I smiled impishly at him. His self-control was tethering almost close to the edge when I leaned forward and pressed my lips onto the tip of his cock.

"Oh, fuck," his deep growl resounded as he reached out and ran his fingers through my hair as I bobbed up and down his shaft, my cheeks hollowing as I tried hard to let my tongue slide underneath. I groaned against him when I felt him twitching inside my mouth.

The only thing sounding in the room right now was soft, sensual noises along with my gagging and San's grunts as I went faster, and faster. That is, until San pulled out all of a sudden. He groaned when he saw a trail of precum dripping from my mouth onto the floor.

"As much as I loved you sucking my soul through my cock," San laughed, pulling me up and pulling me close to him. I moaned softly when his eyes turned dark and predatory. "Can I fuck you?"

He didn't even let me finish, he began kissing me once more, this time, it was driven by lust instead of sweet surrender. His hands weren't idle either, he slid them up my tits and I moaned against his mouth as he squeezed them. He was gentle, yet persistent.

The kiss lingered for a moment when we both backed up until I landed over my soft bed with San going on top of me. Suddenly, anxiety hit me when his eyes started roaming around my body.

"Don't do that," I whispered, covering my body with the blanket. "I'm broken and bruised, not exactly sexy, isn't it?"

He smirked softly when I nervously laughed. It was true; all the permanent scars that never left my body and marked me in ways that will forever haunt me. I didn't want him to be turned off.

"What did I tell you?" he asked softly, his hand reaching out and lovingly tucking a strand of my hair behind my ears. 

My heart thudded against my ribcage as I curiously looked at him. He placed a sweet, chaste kiss on my forehead before he spoke out. "I told you I loved you, didn't I?" San smiled fondly. "That means I love all of you."

"Since when?"

He pretended to think about it, thoughtfully putting a hand to his chin. I laughed and jokingly clicked my tongue at him. I guess this was what love was; the way he was able to ebb away all my discomfort and assure me, make me believe, that I was fine. I loved him so much, it hurt.

"I don't know," he admitted. "One day, I just got mad whenever I imagined you slipping away from me." He kissed me again. "Angry whenever I'd think of someone claiming these." He kissed me once more. "Bitter whenever I'd think of someone else having you instead of me."

"Is that why you talked to Jeno like that earlier?" I rolled my eyes playfully and swatted him across the chest.

He rolled his eyes and nipped my lips almost painfully. "I would appreciate it if you didn't bring another man's name while I'm about to fuck you."

"So do it," I blurted out. "Fuck me."

He narrowed his eyes on me, long gone was his self-control. "You asked for this," San growled.

He gripped his stiff cock in between my already spread legs. I raised my ass to meet my wet hole against it, desperately moaning his name out. "Hurry up,"  I whined helplessly.

San looked me in the eyes as I felt him stroking and positioning himself along my throbbing cunt. He slid agonizingly slow inside of me, inch by inch, never breaking eye contact with me, until he completely bottomed out. We both moaned out at the delicious feeling of each other.

He would tease me with soft thrusts as I dug my nails on his back. "I knew you'd feel good," he exhaled sharply. "Fuck."

I unconsciously squeezed him and all his self control left him. He began thrusting slowly at first, and then picking up the pace when we both found our rhythm, little moans of pleasure escape us as we fucked each other.

"San, please!" I screamed, feeling every inch of him against my walls. My desperate moans made him rock against me faster, and harder.

"Louder, baby," he growled as he pistoned in and out of me. He leaned forward down my neck, biting and sucking on the soft flesh, its sound combined with the obscene slapping of skin against each other nearly undid me.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," San's low moans reached my ears and his tongue tickled it as well, even nibling on it and sending an unexpected burst of pleasure through me. 

I bucked my hips up to meet his fastening thrusts. "Sannie, oh, just like that--"

I screamed when he slammed roughly down on me. "Say that again," he growled against my neck, the demand of it sending pleasurable tears in my eyes.

"W-What?" I managed to ask in between his invasion.

"Call me that again," he grabbed my hips and pulled me tight against him. "I'm begging you, baby, I need it."

"Sannie!" It came effortlessly anyway as I shook beneath his strong body and wrapped my legs around his waist.

"Again," he grunted, pounding into me as our passions rose higher and higher. 

"Ah, Sannie, please," I cried out, thrusting my hips hard to meet his as I felt a familiar tingling sensation down my core and soft bursts of whimpers came out of me as he ground against me.

"Again, Y/N, again, fuck..."

"Sannie!"

This wasn't fucking - as cheesy as it may sound, we both knew that it was the both of us giving each other the love we couldn't for all these years. It was such an intimate experience and connection, even though we were going roughly at the same time.

"Again!"

I'm not usually one for domination and submission, but with him, I'll do anything. I know he won't hurt me.

San leans up a bit and he groans as he watches his cock go in and out of me. "God, you're so wet, babygirl," he smirked at my fucked out face. "I didn't even need to finger you..."

"Can you just keep fucking?" I snapped.

He laughed like the little demon he was, it turned me on so much, and he thrusted harder. "You really can't help acting like an ass even though I'm inside you, huh?"

I grinned. "It's not going to change."

San began going in and out faster and faster, his thrusts building in speed and power. I gaped, screams of pleasure filled the room, as San's throaty rumble of pleasure gave way as his thrusts became sloppier. I knew he was close.

"I'm going to cum inside you, oh fuck, can I cum inside you?" San's moans were getting more and more high-pitched. 

"Please!" I begged, digging my nails on his back.

He hammered himself into me, each thrust a jolt of burning heat as my own orgasm started to approach, and when San felt it, he began doing so more relentlessly. "S-San--"

It was a toe-curling orgasm, one I haven't felt before. San growled in my ear, saying my own over and over like a prayer, as I felt him shake, then wail, and then gasp. I moaned when I felt ropes of warm cum spurt into me over and over, again and again. 

His thrusts subsided and he pulled me into a tired and tender kiss, our lips lazily against each other, and then we laughed hard at what just happened. Something tells me we were going to be alright.

𝙱𝙾𝙽𝚄𝚂 𝚂𝙲𝙴𝙽𝙴:

It turns out we didn't need to correct San's parents, after all. Imagine how pleased Mrs. Choi was when we told her we were making it official.

"Ready to go, babe?" San lovingly asked as he fixed the collar of his dress shirt. When he struggled to put on his tie, he sheepishly smiled at me.

"Need help, tough guy?" I smirked, standing up from the couch and making my way to San. "Kiss me first."

He didn't waste any time and gave me a kiss that rivaled every poet's work and it spoke volumes about the passion we shared.

We broke off and laughed at all the complaints and protests we received from the entire group. Ah, I suppose I'm part of their little group now and we were currently in the frat house.

"Ugh, Lord Almighty, you two are disgusting," Seonghwa rolled his eyes, clearly disturbed. "Decency is not a concept known to both of you, is it?"

He walked over to me and San and pulled him away from me. "I'll fix it," he referred to the tie. "Before you two start dry humping." 

"Rude," I glared jokingly.

"Kind of miss when you two hated each other," Mingi grimaced, plopping next to a snickering Yunho, who said. "Right, there would be none of..." He pointed at me and San accusingly. "...that."

"Jealous of the lack of love in your lives?" San questioned. Mingi and Yunho looked at each other and blushed. "Or not."

Suddenly, a glass of delicious looking smoothie was shoved in my face. It was Wooyoung, who was giving me a pointed look. "What's this?" I frowned, inspecting it.

"Breakfast shake," he shrugged. He patted my back. "No time to eat before you guys go. Good luck, hmm?"

"Thank you," I grinned. "You were an unexpected friend."

"Unless the smoothie gives you diarrhea," Yeosang chimed in. I laughed when Wooyoung turned red and he was about to shout when we all heard Hongjoong yell from outside the house.

"Oi, loverboy! Get in the car before me and Jongho drive off and you'll be walking!"

"Alright," Yeosang pulls me into a small hug. "Goodluck, okay?"

"Give us good news, okay?" Seonghwa smiled tightly while he ushered us out to Hongjoong's car.

I giggled like a schoolgirl when San opened the door for me and I sat beside Jongho in the back, who rolled his eyes dramatically at us while making gagging sounds.

It was hilarious how me and San, hopeless romantics, got stuck with Hongjoong and Jongho, the non-hopeless romantics.

"Nervous?" Jongho asked me while Hongjoong and San walked through what to do when we got to our destination.

I unconsciously touched the marred, disfigured cigarette burn on my shoulder, and it didn't escape Jongho's attention. "Don't," he pursed his lips tightly. "Don't let him win."

San and I decided one day that everyone needed to know everything from the beginning - how San and I were childhood friends, my abusive stepfather after my mother died, San being threatened by him, all of it. The night that I cried in San's arms was also the night that I gained seven more friends.

"I know, I won't let you guys down," I assured. "Thank you for doing this, both of you, you didn't have to."

Hongjoong looked at me through the rear mirror with concern. "You didn't see what we all saw that day," he tensely said. "I was driving home excited to see everyone, and what did I see?"

He paused to collect his thoughts. "A big man beating San to death and an unconscious girl on the ground while the rest tried to scramble outside. Do you have any idea how I felt when Jongho told me your bodies were switched?"

"Being witnesses to the trial is what we want, believe me," Jongho said.

Tears started forming in my eyes. My stepfather ruined everything for me - my life and my childhood specifically. I lost a lot of time with San and I'm so mad that I lost out on these wonderful people. Better late than never, I suppose, at least we're here now.

Sooner or later, me and San were holding hands outside of the courthouse. I didn't want to do it, but Wooyoung and Yeosang were the ones that convinced me the most that I should press charges against my stepfather. San also decided to press charges for blackmail. Mingi called his brother to arrest him, and Yunho's father was kind enough to represent me as my lawyer.

"Like what you see?" San smirked when he noticed me ogling at him. He smiled at me mischievously. "Maybe we can...do some stuff when we get home."

I playfully slapped his arm. "Pervert," I rolled my eyes. "You do look good though, I love your hair like this."

"You do? The blonde isn't jarring?" San asked, obviously anxious about it the natural blonde piece of hair 

"Nah," I fixed his hair a bit for him and he revels in it. He loves getting his hair touched, at least by me. "Maybe we could dye the blonde like a teal blue for a change if you want."

"Sounds good, babe," he agreed. We giggled a bit before we had to become serious again. 

We both stared at the daunting courthouse in front of us. "It's anticlimactic, huh?" San kissed my hand lovingly. "The ending, at least."

"It's better this way, I guess," I shrugged. 

When we switched bodies back, we pretty much never talked about it ever again, just like Hongjoong and Jongho never did.

"How so?" San wondered.

I smiled at him and pulled him close to me so I could give him a tight hug. "Those days we spent apart were hard for me," I whispered. "But we grew separately and now we're better together because of it."

San held my face tenderly in his hands and stared deeply into my eyes. "Having you back means the world to me," he spoke. "Just do me a favour this time, okay?"

I looked at him expectantly. "Stay," he smiled. "Please stay with me, promise me."

"So as long as you don't leave me again," I answered with a bittersweet smile on my face. "Let's do this."

I loop my arm on his and he seemed pleased. "Let's," he laughed, then leaning so we could share one more sweet kiss before we faced the world together.

In his kiss are years I know we'll spend together and the sweetness of the love we'll share as days go by. In his kiss, I am home.

[awearywritersworld]

i have for the first time found what i can truly love—i have found you

sukuna x reader summary: you and sukuna go out for a late night meal. gojo finds out about your... relationship. sukuna is forced to take care of you when you come home drunk. w/c: 2.85k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. fluff. lots of banter. cursing. jealous/protective!sukuna. gojo being a flirt. aged up!yuuji. features a teeny bit of yuuji x reader. drinking and drunk!reader. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: i think i like how this turned out! also, the first two sections could def be read as a fluffy lil stand alone. idc whats happening in the canonverse, sukunas just a tsundere who adores us very much<3 series masterlist // masterlist

"maybe if you stare long enough, food will magically appear," sukuna calls to you from the kitchen table.

"this is no joking matter," you scold from your place in front of the fridge. "i'm starving."

"well, here's an absurd idea— let's go eat."

you turn toward him, finally closing the fridge, and tilt your head to the side. "you eat?"

"of course." he leans back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. "i typically prefer babies, but hell, i'd even go for an old man right now. i'm famished."

your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. he lets the panic simmer on your face for a few more cruel moments. "i'm kidding, idiot. i eat food, same as you."

"i knew that," you assert. the way your shoulders sag in relief tells him otherwise.

"right," he smirks. after standing up, he grabs your purse and tosses it in your direction. "where to? you're buying."

with only so many places open at midnight, you begin your journey to a 24 hour ramen shop.

you've hardly interacted with sukuna outside of your apartment, so this is certainly an experience you didn't anticipate. and in fact, you're shocked at how normal it feels— almost as if it's a date.

as you walk down the street, people eye him suspiciously because of the dark lines they assume are tattoos. it doesn't bother you though, nor does the lateness of the hour. you know that you're safe because you're with him.

your hands keep brushing against one another's, and you're hoping that he'll eventually take a hint and reach for yours. he doesn't (i mean come on, do you even know who you're dealing with?).

he does at least pick up on your pouty expression with impressive ease. "what now?"

"nothing," you huff.

"don't be a brat."

you sigh dramatically. "you're supposed to hold my hand."

"sure princess," he says condescendingly, lacing his fingers through yours. "maybe use your words next time like a big girl."

he doesn't fail to notice the ensuing skip in your step, and he kicks himself for regarding it as cute.

when you arrive at the ramen shop, sukuna orders no less than three bowls, which earns him a glare once the waitress walks away.

"when i agreed to pay, i didn't know what a glutton you are."

"oh yeah? cause i'm just the picture of temperance any other time?"

you scoff. "well you've got me there."

a sly smirk settles onto his face before he speaks again. "maybe one day you'll learn how greedy i am when it comes to the things i've deemed pleasurable."

you choke on the water you'd just brought to your lips, your face heating up as if it'd been bathed by fire.

wiping at your mouth, you try your best to recover quickly. "whatever, you hellion. as long as that doesn't involve a fourth bowl of ramen."

you're no more than 10 steps away from the shop when you hold out your hand to him. "ahem."

he grabs it roughly and not without rolling his eyes.

"what?" you ask innocently. "that was a word."

"hardly," he jeers. "for as much as you read, i'd expect you to be more fluent than a child."

"and at 1000 years old, i'd expect you to be more charming than a teenage boy, but i guess we're both making concessions."

"see, this is the part that puzzles me. you never seem to have trouble with your words when you're being insolent."

"maybe it's a sign," you begin whimsically. "the universe decided you need to be taken down a peg."

"ah, yes. you as the executor of the universe's will. i don't know why i couldn't see it before."

you giggle, rather delighted that he's elected to play along with your quips. there's something that feels so warm and pleasant about it.

as you wonder if he feels it too, your hand tightens around his.

you're not quite ready to head back to your apartment just yet, because you're scared you'll lose the atmosphere surrounding the two of you. in truth, it's a bit intoxicating.

the perfect opportunity arises when you spot a small park up ahead. lights are strung around the trees, all of which are situated around a small fountain.

"we should stop at that park!" you hardly finish speaking before you take off in that direction, tugging him along behind you.

after you plop down on the fountain's ledge, sukuna takes his place beside you.

"let's sit here for a little while."

he doesn't respond and you take his silence as agreement. he's not really one to stifle his grievances.

as the minutes pass, the rush of the fountain is the only noise that fills the air, while you gaze at the trees with a serene expression.

sukuna, however, is looking at you. the only care he has for the trees is the way their lights reflect in your eyes. otherwise, he's fully occupied by the curve of your nose and the fullness of your lips.

"isn't this pretty?" you finally ask.

"it's pretty," he agrees, even when such a soft word feels foreign on his tongue.

his eyes still haven't left you, and you seem to be oblivious to this fact until he reaches up to stroke your cheek with the back of fingers.

when your gaze lands on him, the fondness written all over his face catches you off guard and you realize how close the both of you are. without really thinking about it, you lean into his touch.

"very pretty," he repeats lowly, as if he's talking to himself.

your heart lurches once in your chest, then hammers away at your ribcage without respite. he leans toward you a fraction of an inch, his eyes flicking down to your lips for a brief second.

truthfully, sukuna has never felt the way he does in this moment. it's a sincere sort of desire. he doesn't want the mindless devotion he once thirsted for from his followers. and he doesn't want the sex he used to crave from his concubines.

no. he just wants you— in whatever capacity you're willing to have him.

the way he's looking at you is just too much. there's a dull thudding in your ears and you swear your thoughts are moving at a million miles a minute.

so naturally, you blurt out the first thing you can manage. "we should take a selfie!"

his face shifts from whatever that expression was to one of confusion. "take a selfie?"

some twisted mix of relief and disappointment crashes through you.

"yeah, a selfie. a picture together. ya know, since the park is so pretty," you ramble.

he pulls away from you. not all the way, but enough that it gives you space to finally breath. he chuckles and it doesn't sound lofty like it so often does. in fact, he seems genuinely amused by you.

"a selfie," he deliberates. "that sounds great, but to the best of my knowledge, hell hasn't frozen over."

and just like that, your dynamic feels like it did during your walk from the ramen shop to the park— comfortable and fun.

"well i guess you would be one of the first to know."

ignoring his protests, you take out your phone and hold it far enough away that the camera captures both of your faces. you can see on the screen that he's put on an expression of complete boredom.

"c'mon," you nudge him with your elbow. "you look like you hate me."

the corner of his mouth curves upward. "that's because i do."

you think back on the way he was gazing at you just moments ago and laugh. "you're so full of shit."

then, without warning, you press a kiss to his cheek and click the button.

you decide that his vague look of contented surprise will just have to do.

when you and yuuji walk into the bar, you immediately spot one of the people you're there to meet. he's sitting at a hightop by himself, his snow white hair pretty hard to miss.

you tap his shoulder and his face breaks out into a grin. he slides out of the barstool. "if it isn't my favorite civilian!"

as he pulls you into a hug, you wonder if he's ever going to get tired of that joke. "if it isn't my favorite old man."

"35 is not old," he argues, moving to greet yuuji. "i'm still in the summer of my life, thank you very much!"

"gojo you're 36," the pink haired man remarks.

"gah! such betrayal, yuuji!" he presses his hand to his forehead and takes a deep breath. "now i'm going to need another round."

"i'll go and get drinks for all of us," you offer. "you two stay here so no one takes the table."

before either of them can respond, you turn and begin making your way through the crowd. you don't hear gojo when he calls out, "but darling! i should go with you!"

he takes a step in your direction, but stops when sukuna's mouth appears on yuuji's cheek. "you certainly should not, you insufferable half wit."

"relax, dude. he flirts with literally everyone," yuuji informs him.

gojo scoffs. "i am right here—"

"as if that makes it better?" sukuna barks. "she isn't some toy to be played with."

"of course she isn't! you can't honestly think i'd believe otherwise."

gojo is left forgotten for a moment as the other two bicker, so he interjects once there's a lull in the conversation. "do either of you care to explain what the hell is going on?"

yuuji turns toward him, trying and failing to hide the embarrassment on his face once he realizes that gojo is, in fact, still standing there.

his eyebrows are raised above his sunglasses and it's clear he is inappropriately amused by the situation (what else is new?). he moves to sit across from the younger man, looking at him expectantly.

having no way to talk himself out of this, yuuji relays the recent events regarding you and sukuna, sparing some of the finer details. gojo's face doesn't really betray much emotion throughout the story, though he does look thoughtful by the end of it.

leaning forward, he crosses his arms on top of the table. "maybe your feelings for her are influencing his own, forcing a sort of bond between them?"

"i don't think so," yuuji contends honestly. "other than her, you're the person i admire and respect the most, but he thinks—"

"that you are perhaps the most imbecilic rampallion i've ever had the displeasure of coming across."

gojo jerks back, as if the insult had hit him squarely in the jaw. the look of giddiness from yuuji's compliment, followed by the shift to indignation at sukuna's insult is almost comical.

he stretches his neck forward, cupping his hand around one side of his mouth as if it'd keep sukuna from hearing. "what'd he just call me?"

yuuji shrugs. "beats me, but i don't think he was singing your praises."

"i see your point." gojo pauses, glancing over his shoulder. you're approaching the table, so he turns back to yuuji and quickly adds, "we'll talk more about this another time, but for now, keep this between us."

a few moments later, you appear in front of them and exclaim, "look who i found!"

megumi and inumaki situate themselves around the table too, offering their greetings. you slide yuuji and gojo their drinks, both of which are filled to the brim of the glass. "now then gentlemen, shall we?"

when gojo teleports you and yuuji back to your apartment that night, it takes everything in you to keep from yakking all over your carpet.

"ta ta, hooligans!"

you turn to request that he never do that again, but he's already gone. taking one step forward, you promptly fall on your ass in the entryway with an unforgiving thud. yuuji staggers toward the couch, making it there just in time to face plant into the cushions.

looking down toward your shoes, you're dismayed to find that each one appears to have two sets of laces. you're fumbling with them determinedly when someone crouches down in front of you, their elbows resting on their thighs.

he doesn't say a word. brushing your hands away, he unties your shoes and carefully pulls them off your feet. you're lifted from the floor before you can register the arm that's looped under your knees or the other that's securely around your back.

"careful," you hiccup, your head falling into the crook of his neck. "'m gunna p-puke."

"i'd rather you didn't."

you groan. "s'not like i 'ave a choice in the matter."

he hums. "how much did you drink?"

"dunno. sss'much. nobara—" you hiccup again. "nobara n' maki made me."

he chuckles, placing you down on what you figure is your bed. "right, i'm sure you had no choice in the matter."

"tha's correct, yes."

unbuttoning your jeans, he tugs upward on your belt loops. "lift."

you do as he says, lifting your hips from the bed so he can slide your jeans off your legs. he knows you won't remember this— hell, your eyes are already closed— but he looks away as he does it anyway.

pulling your phone from your pocket and putting it on the charger, your pants are discarded off to the side. he only turns his head back in your direction once he's pulled the blankets up over your body.

"tuck me in?" you request.

sitting down on the bed beside you, he does so without protest.

he stares at you for a little while, worried about how poorly you're probably going to feel in the morning. he presses a kiss to your forehead, intending to get up and grab a water bottle for your nightstand.

instead, his body freezes when he hears you mumble, "i love you s'much."

his heart clenches so painfully, he honestly considers ripping it from his chest— it would probably be less agonizing.

but a thought that makes him feel like a fool occurs to him. of course it's not him that you love. "i'm not yuuji."

"well, duuuhhh. you're s'kuna." you're peering up at him through tired, hazy eyes. it's the first time you've ever seen him look bewildered, so a small giggle erupts from your throat. "s'okay. you don't 'ave t'say it back."

your eyes flutter shut and your breathing evens out before he even thinks to respond. all at once, it's as if his head is empty and as if it's about to explode.

love?

what does he know about love? it's a sentiment he's cursed for so long, but sitting here beside you, he can't quite seem to remember why. one thing he is sure of, however, is that there's never been a thing in the world he's loved.

suddenly, he's struck with remembrance of a quote from jane eyre you had emphasized with messy underlines:

"after a youth and manhood passed half in unutterable misery and half in dreary solitude, i have for the first time found what i can truly love—i have found you. you are my sympathy—my better self—my good angel. i am bound to you with a strong attachment. i think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life, wraps my existence about you, and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one."

rochester says it as he begs jane to stay at thornfield with him, an act sukuna had previously regarded as ridiculous, but is that still the case?

were you to ever scorn him, would he fall to his knees and plead with you to change your mind? or if you were in danger of dying, would he drag himself to a shrine and pray to the gods he doesn't believe in?

is that what love is?

could he stand to be apart from you? are you special to him? does anything else in the world compare to you? does he seek out your company? is he consumed by you? can he know himself without knowing you?

does the definition of love lie in those questions?

sukuna hopes not, because he's terrified of the answers. being in love is not his way, nor is it in his nature.

he buries his face in his hands as realization settles into his bones. it feels as if they're splintering beneath the pressure, trying resentfully to stave it off.

he transcends any imaginable scale of power. he's bled entire villages dry, he's commandeered death, he's the king of curses.

so why now? and why you? is it divine retribution? a sick sort of joke that even he couldn't have dreamed up?

gods, you were right. the universe has sent you to carry out its will and he's completely powerless to stop it.

the worst part of it all? he doesn't want to.

taglist: @96jnie @ay0nha @sad-darksoul @bbysatoruuu @luciiferian @thepup356 @risuola *users in bold could not be tagged

[itostea]

rings (gojo x wife! reader)

in which you want your arranged husband to finally give you a ring

warnings: arranged marriage au (part of the gojo's wife series), gojo calls you his wife, suggestive bc gojo is a menace, reader lowkey downbad, i'm back after 4(?) months oops & lmk if i’m missing anyone for the tag list

There’s a gentle breeze that escapes from the open windows of the cafe you sit in, the quiet chatter blending in with the bossa nova jazz that plays from the speakers. Only a few people reside in the building–some of which include students, friend groups, or strangers just hoping for a nice cup of coffee. 

Your eyes flit to Utahime using a straw to make circles in her drink. She was the one who recommended this cafe, referring to it as an “underground” location–a phrase that you would’ve not expected her to use. Correctly at that. 

“How are you doing with that idiot,” your other friend, Shoko asks. “Do you guys still sleep in separate rooms?”

You watch her reach for a cigarette and frown, your hand slapping hers lightly. “There's a ‘no smoking policy’ here. And to answer your question, no we’re not. We’ve been sleeping in the same room for a little over a month now.”

“On the same bed?”

“Yes?”

“And that’s it?” She drawls, arching an elegant brow as she puts her box of cigarettes away–taking another sip of her black coffee. “Nothing else? You know, like clothes gone, french kissing–”

“Yes that’s it! Keep it down here,” you hiss, shooting another glare at Utahime who stifles a laugh by pretending to drink her tea.

Shoko rolls her eyes, taking another sip of her coffee–this time narrowing her eyes at you. “So why are you sulking?”

“I’m not sulking.”

“Yes you are,” she retorts and you frown when you hear Utahime agree. They’ve always been so sharp. “Something’s bothering you so tell us.”

You purse your lips, gripping your cup a bit tighter as you heave a sigh. You’re avoiding their gazes, biting the inside of your cheek. “It’s stupid.”

“We’re not gonna judge you,” Utahime gives you a reassuring smile, nudging Shoko who tries to take out her cigarette box again.

“Okay,” you start. “Something feels like it’s missing. Not that it’s ‘Toru–”

“You call him ‘Toru?” Shoko laughs quietly, rolling her eyes when you narrow your eyes at her. She sighs. “Continue.”

“There's nothing wrong with ‘Toru and I feel like I’m expecting something from him. We’re making progress with the whole husband and wife thing but I guess I just want,” you pause. “I guess I’m just wondering when he’s gonna give me a ring…”

They both blink at you, with Utahime making a sound with her throat. “There’s no way that idiot’s that stupid.”

“But that makes sense. The wedding just happened on paper since the elders wanted Gojo to get married quickly,” Shoko adds. “So? What are you gonna do? Drop hints?”

“That’s not really my way of doing things…”

Shoko rolls her eyes for the nth time, frowning at the lack of coffee in her cup. “Things would be a lot easier between you two if you just communicated,” she says, holding a hand up when you’re about to respond. “But I say give him some time. Gojo might be a lot sharper than he lets on.”

You replay your friend’s words in your head as you dice the carrots mindlessly–throwing them in a bowl with chopped up potatoes. Ever since Gojo told you that he hardly has any time to cook with the sudden rise of curses, you’ve been wanting to surprise him with a home cooked meal: curry rice. After all, you were finally granted some leisure time after a mission so you were more than happy to set up a surprise.

Not that it was much of a surprise since he was home earlier than usual–not that you were mad since it was rare for him to arrive home just a little after you did. You perk up, catching a glimpse of his boyish grin that seems to spread across his face. “Oh? What’s this?”

You clear your throat, feeling a bit bashful at how pretty his smile was. “I’m making dinner for us since we haven’t been able to have a home cooked meal in a while.”

“Well, aren't I a lucky guy?” He ruffles your hair as if it were a habit of his, his eyes as soft as his voice the moment he leans down. “You mind if I take a shower first? I promise it’ll be quick.”

“Your shower’s are never quick,” you comment, giggling at how he acts as if he’s been caught. As he leaves, you feel yourself getting giddy at how wide his grin had been when he saw you. You wonder if he always looked at you like that and you have to mentally calm yourself down by reminding yourself to not get too excited. 

By the time you set the plates down, you already hear the padding of his feet against the marble floor. He’s dressed comfortably in a pair of sweats and a pullover, sitting in front of you. He smiles again, murmuring a low “hello” as if somewhat shy. 

You smile in return, observing him as he takes a bite of the food you made. Your heart stops for a few seconds, gauging his expression for any sign of disgust–feeling it explode in your chest when he eats it like a starved man. “Is it good?” 

“So good,” he answers without hesitation, flashing another grin at you–the same grin that makes you feel warm inside. “My wife’s so talented.”

“It’s just curry rice,” you respond, feeling a bit sheepish at how easily he sings praises to you. You realize you’ve been watching him eat for a little over than a minute, your hands reaching to the utensils to try your own food. 

The conversation takes off naturally. He’s asking about your day at work and you do the same; he teases you and you shoot another remark at him. It’s all good-natured until he pauses, looking a little hesitant. “Listen (Name),” his voice is lower, nervous. “I know I should've done this before but it really didn’t cross my mind…”

Your reaction is instantaneous as much as you try to hide it. The ring. Was he going to give you one? Your eyes flit to his furrowed brows and the way he pokes the inside of his cheek. If he’s this nervous, then it should be pertaining to a ring right? You’re already answering before he can finish. “Yes.”

He blinks, peering directly at you. “Really?”

“Really,” you nod, your smile wide as you lean a bit closer to the table. 

He breaks out in a large smile, breathing a sigh of relief. “Wow I didn’t know you liked Netflix so much.”

All of a sudden, the delusions you’ve been building up topple like dominos. Your voice’s stuck in your throat as a wave of bemusement hits you. “Huh?”

“I was gonna give you my Netflix account! I completely forgot to give you it for a while and the kids have been on my ass about it.”

“Y-Your Netflix account?” You murmur in disbelief, wondering if sharing a Netflix account was a golden rule couples had to obey. 

It was Gojo’s turn to be confused, his pretty blues blinking at you. “That’s what we’re talking about right?”

Disappointment drenches you from top to bottom but you quickly mask it with an easy going smile. “Yeah! I love Netflix…”

You breathe a sigh of relief, mentally applauding yourself for not mentioning anything about a ring. You take another bite of your food, not noticing the way Gojo looks at you–gulping as if hiding a secret of his own. 

“I want to give you something,” your husband’s voice is gentle, velvety as he pulls you towards the couch. 

He smells good, you think to yourself–earthy and fresh. It’s faint yet it’s enough to make you dizzy. “Something?”

“That’s right,” he coos, grinning down at you from the couch. Again, you have that undeniable feeling of hope choking you, trying your hardest not to show your excitement as he reaches in his pocket.

Yet, instead of a small, round object, you’re faced with a card. A black card. Not a ring. Your lips part in shock as the initial disappointment becomes surprise. “I can’t take this!” 

You’re left with more disbelief at how his expression seems to fall dramatically. “Why not…?”

“Because I just can’t!” 

“But you’re my wife and I wanna spoil you,” he tries to reason and you have to try not to swoon how he calls you his wife even though you already know it. You clear your throat, shaking your head rapidly. 

“I can’t ‘Toru–”

“Yes you can,” he huffs, his lips falling into a pout that you would’ve found funny if he didn’t just hand you his card. “Trust me on this one. You’ll make me happy if you use it. So treat yourself, alright?”

You frown, murmuring another protest and stopping when he glances at you from under his shades, his lips curling into a coy smile once he sees the guilt in your eyes–his mind piecing things together. “Aren’t you a sweetheart?” He ruffles your hair once more, making your heart do another jump. “Just take it. Please?”

You think he’s doing it on purpose–the way he looks at you as if you’re a diamond among rocks. It’s hard not to say no when someone looks at you like that–harder when it’s Gojo. You sigh. “Fine. But I’m not gonna use it often.”

He grins that smile you like again, his thumb grazing your jaw. “That’s my girl.”

You avert your eyes at his binding smile, ignore how he seems to enjoy teasing you a bit too much. You sigh, ignoring the way your heart flutters all over again. And with the way he watches you, you think his stomach’s doing somersaults as well

It’s early in the morning, dark in the room you share with Gojo–the sun barely awake just as you were. There’s the sound of quiet shuffling, the spot next to your empty. It must be one of those missions, you think to yourself.

You hear him murmur a low curse at the sound of something dropping, feeling amusement at how he tries to quietly put the item back in its original place. You think of falling asleep again but your gut tells you to stay awake, still listening to his quiet pacing. 

You feel how the mattress slightly dips, his cologne filling your senses–luring you to sleep. Out of sheer willpower, you try not to react as his fingers reach down to graze your cheek–try not to open your eyes to see what kind of expression he wore. You wonder if he did this every time he had a mission so early in the morning, feeling an unfamiliar feeling tug at your heart. 

His voice is barely above a whisper as he leans down. “I’ll be back home by dinner today. I promise.”

Part of you debates on falling asleep and it wins, until you feel him shuffle a bit closer. And just like that, you feel cold metal slip on your finger–your ring finger. The material fits perfectly around your finger and your hand twitches as you hear him stand up to leave. 

It hits you a bit later than you’d expect and you would’ve never thought realization would sound like the front door opening. You scramble out of bed, tripping on the blankets as you smile so hard it hurts. 

“Toru?! Wait! Don't leave yet! Toru come back!” 

And like you hoped, he looks back, the metal of a ring similar to yours greets you.

tags:

@maliamaiden, @dookiemeshibear, @icarusignite, @padsgrlly, @katiaesmeralda, @mooncleaver, @jcrml, @istanuwow, @stilinskispjo, @hjjjbb, @delulusuga, @hellogoog, @scrumdillyyumyumpurr, @wordskeeper, @rampagingroses, @demiwizardvampire145, @haikyuusimpsblog, @esmeensheep, @msunknown911, @saebeary, @mysuperrainbow, @scarletevening, @tedbunny333, @tulips-ss, @primapoppy, @realboysrdumb, @ems-tumbo, @a-cloudy-dreamy-day, @evalynanne, @kaiisers, @trisisbasic, @luna0713hunter, @arisucat, @honili, @dovahkiinsbitch, @porridgesblog, @siennahsteaparty, @dee-dreams-and-stuff, @satoruskitchenrag, @moonmalice, @junglewoos, @thisbicc, @heartsoji, @mysticmyth, @phoenixforgotten, @sillygoosegoose, @the-mad-hatress, @kairuthewriter, @batmansleftfoot

[kiame-sama]

Pregnancy Announcements Pt 2

Pt 1:

Continuation with Kailm, Jamil, Cater, Trey, Riddle, Leona, Ruggie, Jack, Epel,

Warnings: Yandere, yandere behavior, yandere relationship, pregnancy warning, afab reader (though I will keep pronouns they/them), large mention of poly relationships with the fellas (many mention poly relationships), by selecting 'view more' you consent to view content and are of age to view content, some have oviposition based on the species, mainly ficlets, any appearances made by Grim is solely platonic, some graceful responses, some not so graceful responses, all positive responses, mostly fluff minus some teasing and confusion, not all take place at the same time, various 'relationship routes', mostly poly relationships, various poly group dynamics

Note: the ages next to their names are their ages in the current time in the HAE, not the ages they become fathers

Golden Sands

Kalim Al-Asim (45)

"(Y/n), my golden sand flower, where are you?"

Kalim called as he returned from a quick flight on his carpet. Sure, he could have easily taken one of the many cars available to him, but there was something special about taking the carpet that he just couldn't replace. It was natural for his large home to be bustling with activity, but this was far more than usual and it threw Kalim off guard.

Of course, when he didn't immediately see his soft little Human mate or Jamil coming to greet him he was on guard. Usually one or the other would greet him and scold him for his daring stunts with the carpet or for running off without anyone to keep an eye on him. The fact that none of the staff even gave him a secondary look had him making a quick beeline for his beloved's room, not liking how everyone seemed to be in a buzz over something.

As he entered the large chamber, he couldn't help but call out in relief when he saw the soft Human laying back atop the scales of the Naga. Said Naga was massaging their shoulders as they leaned back into the Naga's touch. The way the Human lay- with Jamil's coils gently wound around their soft stomach- interested Kalim enough to make him pause for a moment.

As unaware as the Genie is of things around him, he could actually pay attention and notice when there was something different, and there was certainly something different.

"Kalim," Jamil's prompting tone snapped the Genie out of his stupor, "come here, (Y/n) has news for you."

Kalim was quick to join the Human and the Naga, climbing into the nest of coils and pillows, not noticing the way the Naga glared at him angrily any time the Genie stepped on his coils. Kalim was quick to cuddle into his beloved (Y/n)'s side, smiling up at them and chuckling as they ruffled his white hair.

"Kalim, you know how we have been talking about the Al-Asim family and how you need an heir?"

"Yeah! My baba says I need to 'put down roots and start a family with that exotic Human'! He has been on my back about having a child since I started at NRC."

"Well, I guess he can leave you alone about it now."

"Oh? Why's that?"

Jamil sighed loudly and shook his head at the forgetful and idiot Genie that the Human had somehow also fallen in love with. If only he could have split (Y/n) from that smiling fool and kept them for himself, but there was no turning back time now. Apparently some people found the lack of braincells attractive.

"... Because I'm pregnant."

"Oh, (Y/n) that sounds great! I-"

The golden Genie paused for a moment, his red eyes wide in surprise as the words actually clicked in his brain. He stared at the Human's warm stomach again and slowly reached out a hand, lowering himself down to their stomach.

"I'm gonna be a father... I'M GONNA BE A DAD! JAMIL, I'M GONNA BE A-!"

"STOP YELLING! We are both right here, you don't need to yell!"

Jamil's scolding fell on deaf ears as the Genie was bouncing around excitedly and not listening to what the Naga was saying. He was too busy leaping around and cheering loudly for all to hear. There was no question that Kalim was overjoyed.

~~~~

Jamil Viper (36)

"Hey, Jamil, can I talk to you really quickly?"

The Naga smiled gently as he glanced up at the soft Human standing in the doorway. He had been preparing dinner for his beloved mate and the idiot he had no choice but to keep around. Still, he always had time for his beloved, even if he didn't have time for the Genie that hovered around him obnoxiously.

"Of course, my precious Boa, what do you need?"

He was quick to wind his tail under the soft Human, propping them up and making a kind of chair out of his coils for them. They smiled and rubbed their cheek against his smooth scales, only making him smile in return. If only he didn't need to share with that foolish Genie, but (Y/n) was worth it to him.

"I have exciting news for you, and something that might make you angry."

"Did Kalim take you flying on the magic carpet again, despite me telling him how dangerous it is if you fall?'

"... Maybe."

"He-!"

"Before you get mad, here's something that will make you happy."

Jamil crossed his arms, still frowning in frustration but willing to wait and listen to what his beloved needed to say. They gently picked up one of his hands and rest it over their stomach, noticing how Jamil used his secondary eye-lid to blink instead of his typical eye-lids.

"The Doctors confirmed it, I have six healthy eggs forming their shells!"

This actually made Jamil's expression change, a genuine smile taking over his surprised expression as he hummed happily, his tongue flicking out as he raised their soft body towards him. He could detect the faint change in their hormones and he couldn't help but feel a quick shot of pride in his chest, knowing that the eggs were absolutely his. Thanks to being half-human, his young would never need to know the pain of being in service to another. He may not be free of his shackles to Kalim, but his children would be free of the Al-Asim.

"Have you told Kalim yet?"

"No. I wanted you to be the first to know."

"With our young we can... wait. Does that mean Kalim took you flying on the carpet while you are pregnant!?"

~~~~

Wild Cards

Cater Diamond (23)

"This is the third day in a row..."

Cater frowned as he held back the messy tresses of his Human lover. The morning seemed just fine and seemed to be any normal morning, but a sudden bout of sickness had him holding back the hair of his beloved while they whimpered from the force of their sudden illness. Trey was cooking and had tried to give (Y/n) a break after their sudden sickness the prior two mornings.

"Hey, Cater?"

"Yes, my darling?"

"Can you keep a secret from Trey and Riddle for me?"

"... Depends on the secret. You know how Riddle will act if he thinks he was denied need to know information."

The Human sighed, getting up to grab their toothbrush and scrub out their mouth. Cater didn't blame them. Sickness was no fun, especially whatever kind of sickness this was.

"You know how Trey and I went shopping two days ago?"

"Yeah, you had that doctor's appointment and Trey wanted to get some things for the Bakery."

"Well, the doctors told me something interesting during that visit. Apparently I have several interesting gel-like beads in me. They're steadily expanding and seem to react well to water."

This stunned Cater as he almost dropped his phone, his wide eyes reflected in the screen in front of him as he glanced up. Had he heard them properly? Because that sounded an awful lot like Water Nymph Cores.

"How many?"

"The doctor counted at least four, maybe more."

"We... we're gonna have our own Nymphs?"

"Looks like."

Cater was overjoyed, feeling so blessed for his mate and for the potential of little Nymphs of his own. To think, even screw-up Cater Diamond could make Diamonds of his own to love and cherish.

"I can't keep this a secret because I have to annoy the hell out of Riddle for this, you know that, right?"

"Why?"

"Because he swore up and down that you would have his foal before Trey's foal or my cores."

"Tell me you three didn't make a bet-"

~~~~

Trey Clover (25)

"Are you feeling any better, love?"

Trey asked gently, glancing back to his back where his Human lover sat, letting the Kelpie carry them back home. They had suddenly gotten faint while they were out shopping at the market and Trey was quick to take his love into the shade. Of course he was happy to wait for them to feel a bit better before he started back for home.

Naturally, Riddle was demanding Trey bring them home immediately the moment he was informed they weren't feeling well, the Unicorn high strung as ever over every little problem. No worry was too much as far as his mate was concerned. Trey agreed with Riddle on that, but he also knew that Riddle tended to make others more stressed, not calm, so he wanted to give them a moment before taking them home to the Unicorn.

"Trey, If I tell you something, will you promise me you won't freak out?"

"... Yes."

It was a boldfaced lie and Trey knew it. He figured there was something on his beloved's mind but didn't want to press the issue despite his own concern. He figured his darling (Y/n) would let him know if there was something bothering them. If it was something big, he couldn't promise he wasn't going to be emotional about it, but he would try to keep himself contained for the sake of his beloved.

"That check up I had the other day... It confirmed I'm pregnant, and judging by the lack of a horn on the embryo, I would wage the foal is yours."

"My-"

Trey cut himself off, looking surprised and elated all at once. Naturally, Trey wanted a good sized family, and he was sure to get that with Cater and Riddle also working on getting their young into the soft Human they shared. Still, he would be lying if it didn't fill him with immense pride to know that he had managed to get a foal into (Y/n) well before Riddle.

"This is wonderful news my love, but you should have told me earlier. I wouldn't have pushed you so hard to come shopping with me, or I would have at least carried you on my back more."

"Where's the fun in that?"

(Y/n) shot back playfully, smiling at the happy Kelpie and leaning forward to give him a gentle kiss. He was quick to return the affectionate act and was excited to gloat tell Riddle about it when the two returned to their home.

"Think we can have a few more before you have Riddle's?"

~~~~

Riddle Rosehearts (46)

"Riddle?"

"One moment, love. I have to figure out what this prescription says..."

The Unicorn stood in the kitchen, frowning at the papers in his hand. Of course, (Y/n)'s doctor decided that they were going to hand-write instructions and the penmanship was almost completely illegible. Riddle was besides himself with frustration because it made his daily task of getting his beloved's medication ready nigh impossible. How was he supposed to give the proper dosage if he couldn't tell the difference between an 'E' and a '3' due to the poor writing quality?

"Riddle, it actually somewhat has to do with that medication."

"It's just no use! I would think they would print this on the label and not trust some fool who can't even hold a pen properly to write it out!"

"RIDDLE!"

The Unicorn squealed slightly in surprise, his weight shifting to his back legs as he reared up from the sudden shout. The Human wasn't exactly pleased to raise their voice at the Unicorn, but it did get his attention and make him look over at them instead of the bottle in his hands. Riddle had been prone to startling easily- especially after the complications they had with Trey's Foal- so he was more than a little frazzled with loud noises.

"Riddle, that medication is not for those who are pregnant or nursing. I can't take it anyway."

"(Y/n), the medication is to help you with-"

Riddle cut himself off, tilting his head slightly as his brows furrowed in confusion. Had he heard that properly?

"Wait. 'Pregnant or Nursing'? But I thought they were already weaned a year back-"

"Yes. I am currently pregnant again, Riddle. Why do you think I had Trey take me to the doctor's office yesterday?"

"Is... is it Trey or Cater's again?"

"For the love of- No, you absolute pain in the ass Unicorn. The ultrasound showed the clear blunt horn already formed on the embryo. It's your foal."

This made a sudden and drastic change overcome Riddle as he began smiling excitedly and trotted over, pulling his beloved up and into his arms. Finally! Finally it was Riddle's turn to be a proud father!

Sure, he had been so proud of the several healthy Water Nymphs and twin Kelpie Foals his darling (Y/n) had brought into the world in the past, but to hear it was his young they were now carrying was more gratifying than anything that could have been said to the Unicorn. Now he was gently nickering and resting the side of his horn against their head in an affectionate gesture.

"They'll be beautiful and smart, just like us."

"Of course they will be. I just have to get through this pregnancy first!"

This made the smile quickly fade from Riddle's face as he now realized that- as the father of this foal- the responsibility of caretaking and ensuring all doctors appointments were booked in advance fell on his shoulders.

"Don't worry, (Y/n)! I'll take care of everything for you!"

~~~~

The Pride's Pack

Leona Kingscholar (36)

"Oi, Mousey, where did you disappear to?"

The Nemean Lion asked with a clear frown, not keen to be kept out of the loop when it came to his favorite little squeaky toy. Naturally, anything that involved his Mousey was his business, especially when not even Ruggie or Jack knew where the Human had wandered off to. Despite the wild difference in the personalities of the three beast-men, the group was well paired enough that they weren't in constant conflict.

"Your mother took me to see the Kingdom doctor to check up on why I have been so queasy and sore recently. Luckily the doc knew what was wrong and we have a plan set up for the next few months."

"Next few months? Mousey, what the hell is making you so sick you are going to be unwell for months?"

"Oh, I don't know, try two cubs?"

"What are you talking about, the only cub we have is Grim-"

Leona went silent for a moment, his eyes narrowed as he raised a brow at his soft mate suspiciously with his head cocked to one side. Slowly his ears angled back and his tail began to lash as those green eyes continued to stare, locked onto his beloved Human's form. He had quickly figured out what his dearest Mousey was talking about and had to now decide how to respond.

He figured it was going to happen eventually and he wasn't exactly displeased with being the first out of the three mates to actually manage to have cubs with the Human. He already looked after the rather large Hellcat as his own, no reason he couldn't be a good father to his own cubs. There was no possible way his cubs would be half as annoying as Cheka.

"About damn time."

"What?"

"I figured you were going to accept our seed eventually, and I wanted the first to be me. You're mine first and foremost, I only share with that leech Ruggie and Puppers Jack because you asked me to. Good way to show I am the dominant mate out of the group."

"I'm genuinely surprised you want cubs."

"You kidding me? More than half the Kingdom adores you and all of the females have already decided they will follow you if you leave, cubs only makes them like you more. Not too interested in Falena's title, not while I have everything I could possibly want right here. But I don't see why I can't plan for it."

"Leona!"

~~~~

Ruggie Bucchi (21)

"You sure you're feeling alright?"

The Gnoll whined gently, lowering his head somewhat to press against the Human's shoulder as he worried over them. Ruggie had the right to be concerned, always the one nearby any time fatigue or sudden odd cravings overtook his darling mate. Seeing as the symptoms had yet to abate even after several weeks and a trip to the Kingdom doctor, he was worried.

"I'm sure Ruggie. Odds are I will continue to feel like this for a bit longer yet. But I have news to share with you, and I need you to relay it back to Grammy Bucchi for me or she will be cross with us both."

"What is it?"

"Ruggie, you know how I got really sick like this before?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you remember why I was getting sick?"

"You were pregnant with Leona's cubs- don't tell me you're having another litter of his!"

The Human laughed gently at this, taking the concerned Gnoll's clawed paw in hand and smiling at him. The warmth of their hands on his paws was soothing and he slowly began rubbing his elongated muzzle against the soft flesh to calm himself. The cubs were already a bit of a nightmare with how much they were like Leona despite barely stringing together a few words and he could not handle another batch.

"No, they're not Leona's. I doubt he would want more cubs with those two. He's so smitten and proud of them already it is ridiculous. No, these ones had a more... unique profile. The doctors are certain from their voracious appetites that they are Gnoll Cubs."

"Wait," Ruggie's body had gone stiff as he cocked his head to one side, "you're telling me... that I'm gonna have Cubs? You're not joking, right? We're really gonna have cubs?"

Before the Human could respond beyond a quick nod, the Gnoll was cackling loudly and leaping in place. He was clearly excited to have his own cubs and apprentices in all ways to make money. Not only that, but Grammy should be thrilled to hear of the next younglings to be brought into the Cackle. Who knows, Perhaps one of these cubs will be a female and will be next to lead the Cackle.

~~~~

Jack Howl (18)

"I swear, it was the same smell as before with Leona and Ruggie's!"

Jack continued to insist, swearing up and down that the Human's scent had changed in a way he could somehow detect. Naturally, this meant both the Werewolf and the Human were sitting waiting for the final determination from the Kingdom Doctor. She was quite amused and was willing to entertain Jack's concerned insistence that the Human gets checked over due to this new scent.

"Well, I have to say, the Werewolf is right."

The warm voice of the patient doctor drew the attention of the two waiting. Naturally, the news that he was correct made Jack's tail begin to wag in a mix of pride and relief. Jack had been adamant that he was correct, and that almost overshadowed the realization that soon dawned on his mind.

"Wait, so if I'm right... who is the other parent of this round?"

"Would you like to see?"

The doctor turned the screen of the ultrasound around so both Werewolf and Human could see the tiny heartbeats on the screen. Though it was somewhat difficult to see, there were indeed several little heartbeats as the doctor moved the ultrasound wand around to examine the growing young.

"Yes, based off of their tails and the shapes of their muzzles, I would say these are healthy Werewolf Pups. Congratulations the both of you."

Jack's tail could be heard long before the doctor stopped speaking, his tail slamming against the chair. It was easy to tell how the Werewolf felt about the matter as he almost began to wriggle and wiggle with excitement. Soft whines escaped the Werewolf as he tried and failed to contain his emotions, his ears laying back as his body began to wiggle as well.

"Pups..! Pups..! Pups!"

"Something tells me you may need to take him out to run for a little bit," the doctor chuckled softly as she smiled at the wriggling Wolf, "he may have to howl about it if you don't get him out fast enough."

The Human chuckled in response, nodding as the gel was cleaned off of their soft stomach, getting up with the excited Werewolf bouncing in place next to them.

"Okay, Jack. Let's get you outside so you can have zoomies."

"Pups! Pups! Pups!"

~~~~

Fruit Bearers

Epel Felmier (23)

"(Y/n)! (Y/n), where in tarnation have ya ran off to?"

Epel frowned as he searched the orchards, idly pausing to check in on the apples that were just beginning to reach maturity. He was a skilled apple harvester at heart despite his slight worry for the Human he held near and dear to his heart. To think, little Epel was the one to win the Human all for himself.

"Over here!"

"Goodness, ya darn near gave me a heart attack, ah don't want to hear any excuses-"

"Epel, calm down. Where on earth could I wander off too? We're in the heart of an orchard."

"Ah'm just sayin', ya can't wander off. It doesn't matter that we're hidden away in ah town on the outskirts, we both know those darn poachers are relentless."

"I know."

Epel sat down next to the soft Human he adored, resting his head on their shoulder as his flowers gently rubbed against their cheek. the soft petals tickling the skin of the Human ever so gently.

"So, why did ya want us out here again? Ah thought ya weren't feeling well?"

"Well, You know Granny and I had to go visit the doc in town a few days ago after that terrible stomach ache of mine. I doubt you'll be surprised to know they found some stubborn seeds taking up residence. From what I'm told, they should be ready to come out soon enough, though I don't know if winter is the best time to plant them..."

"Nah, gotta wait till spring ta- wait. Seeds? We- We have seeds?"

"Yes, Epel, we do! Though it is a bit of time for us to wait until spring, are you sure they'll be okay until then?"

"Nah, we're planting them in ah greenhouse, even if ah got ta make it myself! Ain't no way Ah'm waiting until spring for this!"

[solelifauna]

Definitely NOT Invincible (Yandere Invincible & Reader)

Pt.5

Guys, I'm cooked. Anyways, thank you for all the kind words!!! Also Y/n's cooked too...anyways! Enjoy!

ALSO!! EVERYONE THANK @oof-spoof!! THIS SERIES IS NOW BASICALLY DEDICATED TO THEM!!! Thank you @oof-spoof for supporting me!

The group fell into a heavy silence, the weight of your words sinking in as if the world itself had pressed down on your shoulders. It wasn’t just about stopping Omni-Man and Invincible or sending that crucial tip to the Guardians of the Globe—it was about surviving long enough to make any of it matter.

The irrefutable fact lingered in the back of everyone’s mind, unspoken but looming: you might be killed again.

Your stomach churned at the thought, the memory of your father’s hand crushing your skull replaying in vivid, excruciating detail. The sound, the pressure, the blinding pain—it haunted you in ways you couldn’t even articulate. And if not that, then what? Would it be a more horrific death this time? Burned alive? Torn apart?

You looked around the table, the same realization written on the faces of your friends. Hallie was biting her lip, staring blankly at the table as her fingers drummed nervously. Connor’s jaw was clenched, his fists curled tightly on his lap. Weston was silent, his expression unreadable, but his tired eyes betrayed him.

Finally, Weston broke the silence. “I’ll figure out how to send the tip,” he said, his voice quiet but resolute. His gaze shifted between each of you before landing back on his hands. “You guys focus on keeping our… other obligation in check.”

Shit. You’d completely forgotten about the Demogorgons. Those damn things hadn’t been on your radar for the past few days, but they were still out there, roaming the town, lurking in shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Judging by the groans and sighs from Connor and Hallie, they’d forgotten too.

“Everyone still has their things, right?” you asked, already mentally cataloging what you had at home.

Hallie sat up straighter, brushing her hair out of her face. “Got my pump action and bolt action in my trunk and in my closet,” she said, her voice steadier than her posture.

Connor leaned back, rubbing his temples. “Got ammo and a G-48, Haymitch's axe, and the machete,” he listed off, his tone bordering on exhaustion.

“I still have the smoke bombs and my dad’s rifle he thinks he sold,” Weston added, his voice low but firm.

You nodded, storing the information away. “Good. We’ll need all that and more.”

The silence that followed was thick with understanding. You’d fought these monsters before. You’d survived the impossible. But this time, it wasn’t just about survival. It was about holding the line, balancing the dual threats of the Demogorgons and the looming Viltrumite takeover.

"I say we prepare for the worst," you finally say, your voice cutting through the silence. "Stock up on ammo when you can, supplies, canned food, and whatever else we’ll need. We have to be ready in case everything goes to shit again, in case… in case what we do doesn’t work—"

“Don’t.” Connor’s voice cuts you off, sharp and sudden. “Don’t say that, (Y/n).”

You flinch at the rawness in his voice, the sheer force of his words.

“Connor—” you start, but he barrels forward, his frustration spilling over like a dam breaking.

“It has to work!” he says, his voice trembling. “It has to, or else—” He looks away, jaw tight, his hands clenching into fists. “Or else that means we fought for nothing. That means all those people who died—who are going to die—died for nothing. That means we came back for nothing.”

His words hang in the air, raw and painful. You feel them hit you like a punch to the gut.

Your lips press together tightly as you try to find something—anything—to say. Connor was always the "strong" one of the group, the silent type, the brash one who rarely let anyone see how deeply he felt things. He was the backbone, the shoulder everyone else could lean on when things got tough. Seeing him like this, unraveling, hurts more than you want to admit.

“I’m—I’m sorry, Connor,” you finally manage, your voice barely above a whisper.

“No, I’m sorry,” he mutters, his eyes watery as he scrubs at his face with the back of his hand. His voice cracks slightly as he continues, “You—you’re just doing what you always do, trying to keep us alive. I’m sorry.”

“Please don’t apologize, Con,” you say quickly, leaning forward slightly, trying to catch his gaze. “I—I get it. Really, I do.”

The tension around the table is palpable. Hallie and Weston exchange uneasy glances, their worry for Connor evident in the grim lines of their faces.

“Connor,” Hallie starts gently, her voice low and careful, “nobody’s saying what happened before will happen again, but—”

“I know,” he cuts her off, his voice quieter now, almost resigned. He lets out a shaky breath and sinks back in his seat, rubbing a hand over his face. “I know. But we have to consider the high chance it will.”

The stakes couldn’t be higher, and the thought of failing—of going through all of it again—was unbearable.

But you didn’t have a choice.

You glanced at each of them in turn, taking in their tired faces, the fear lingering in their eyes. They were your family, your only anchor in a world that felt increasingly impossible to navigate.

“We’ll make it work,” you say softly, your voice steady despite the storm inside you. “I don’t know how yet, but we will.”

You don’t know if they believe you, and honestly, you’re not even sure if you believe yourself. 

Weston’s hand comes to rest on Connor’s shoulder, rubbing little circles in that gentle, soothing way he always did to calm the group down. It was such a Weston thing to do—he had always been physical with his care and affection, expressing his love in small touches and gestures that reminded you all you weren’t alone. You see Connor’s shoulders relax just slightly under Weston’s touch, though the tension doesn’t completely leave him.

You shift closer, moving to sit beside Connor, offering your silent presence as support. Across the table, Hallie slides her water bottle toward him, her brow furrowed in worry. “Here,” she says softly. Her voice doesn’t waver, but her eyes betray the depth of her concern. Connor takes the bottle with a small, muttered “thanks,” and sips from it, his gaze distant.

The weight of the moment settles over all of you, thick and suffocating. No one says anything for a while, and for a brief moment, the only sound is the distant hum of chatter from other tables in the courtyard.

Then the lunch bell rings, cutting through the stillness like a knife, signaling it’s time to go back to class. The sound sends a jolt through you, and you see the same dread reflected in everyone’s faces. None of you want to go. Yet, there was nothing you could do.

You all stand reluctantly, gathering your things in silence. Before you split up, you squeeze Connor’s shoulder gently, hoping it conveys what you can’t find the words to say. He offers a faint smile.

You walk into the crowded hallway, your mind scrambling as you try to recall your next class. What was it? You swear you knew just minutes ago, but now the information is gone, like a wisp of smoke slipping through your fingers.

You glance around desperately, hoping to recognize a familiar face, someone who might share the class with you. But the sea of students around you is a blur of faces you barely recognize. Who the hell are these people? You don’t remember their names, their voices, their stories. They’re strangers, even though you know you should know them.

Panic creeps up your spine as you weave through the hall, your breathing growing shallow. You’re losing it. You’re losing yourself, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. The realization claws at you, sharp and unrelenting.

You hate this. You hate what this world, what this second chance, has reduced you to. What it’s reduced all of you to.

Your hands tremble as you tighten your grip on your bag, willing the shaking to stop, but it doesn’t. You pass classrooms, peeking inside, hoping something will click—a desk, a teacher, a face. But nothing does.

The hallways start growing emptier as students file into their classrooms, the bustling energy fading into a deafening quiet. You glance around, the panic tightening in your chest. Where the hell were you supposed to go?

Your mind scrambles, trying to latch onto something—anything—that will tell you your next class. The answer eludes you, slipping through your fingers like sand. You fumble with your phone, attempting to log into your student portal. At least that would show your schedule, right?

Except the password isn’t auto-saved. Of course, it isn’t.

You sit there staring at the login screen, willing your brain to remember your credentials, but nothing comes. It’s just another blank void. Great. Now you can’t even see your schedule, let alone your grades. Not that grades should be at the top of your concerns right now, but still, the thought gnaws at the back of your mind. You’re so screwed.

You lean against a row of lockers, the cold metal biting into your back as you let out a frustrated sigh. What the hell do I do now? Asking the front desk for help is out of the question. It’s the middle of the school year, and no one forgets their schedule this far in. It would raise questions. And why couldn’t you just look it up yourself? The idea of facing that judgment makes you cringe.

No, you can’t do that.

Instead, you resign yourself to staying in a random, empty hallway, slumping down against the wall. The quiet envelops you, a brief respite from the overwhelming noise in your head. You close your eyes for a moment, letting the silence settle around you. God, you didn’t realize how much your eyes were burning, how much your body ached.

The idea of just staying here, hidden and still, is so tempting. Maybe you could just chill here for a while. Yeah, that sounded nice. Just a little break.

You don’t realize how much time passes as you sit there, your mind drifting between the chaos of your thoughts and the exhaustion weighing you down. For a brief moment, you feel the smallest sliver of peace.

Until a voice shatters it.

“Playing hooky, (Y/n)?”

Your stomach drops. No. Not him. Not now.

Mark’s voice carries that unmistakable mix of smugness and sharpness, the tone that always made you want to squirm. “Tch, Mom and Dad are not going to be happy. Especially after the last meeting your counselor had about your little habit of skipping classes.”

You open your eyes, and there he is, standing over you with a smirk that makes you want to curl in on yourself. His eyes bore into yours, sharp and calculating, as if he’s dissecting you piece by piece.

“W-what? When did—oh shit,” you stammer, the memory hitting you like a brick. He’s talking about the meeting. You’d skipped a bunch of classes last semester to deal with the Demogorgons. Sure, you kept your grades up, but that didn’t stop the school from calling your mom. And to say she was upset was an understatement.

Mark’s smirk widens as he watches the realization dawn on your face. “Ah, there it is,” he says mockingly, leaning against the wall. “I’m sure Mom will love hearing about this. You know how she feels about second chances.”

You glare at him, the panic in your chest now mixed with frustration. “Mark, I—look, just don’t. Please.”

His expression softens, but only slightly. There’s still that edge to his voice, that unnerving mix of concern and menace. “Don’t what? Tell her? You’re not making this easy, you know. Skipping class, hiding out like this… It’s like you want her to freak out.”

“I just—” You falter, your words failing you. The exhaustion, the stress, the sheer overwhelming nature of everything—it’s all too much. You can’t think of a good excuse, and Mark’s gaze feels like it’s cutting through every lie you might try to tell.

He crouches down, leveling his eyes with yours. “What’s going on with you, (Y/n)?” he asks, his voice softer now but no less piercing. “You’ve been off. I know you’re not telling me everything.”

You look away, unable to meet his gaze.

Mark’s words linger in the air like a trap, waiting for you to fall in. “Are you depressed or something? Maybe it’s a boy? I don’t know, (Y/n), but something’s off. I know it is,” he says, his tone dripping with faux concern. “Just tell me. Tell your big brother, and I can make it go away.”

The irony of it all hits you like a freight train, and you can’t help it—you huff, then giggle, and then it all spirals out of control. A laugh bubbles out of you, wild and uncontainable, quickly escalating into full-blown hysterics. You’re wheezing now, clutching your sides, and you know you must look insane. Maybe you are. How could you not be?

It’s funny, really. The idea that he, Mark, could fix your problems. That he could “make it go away.” It’s laughable because a massive chunk of your problems is sitting right in front of you, watching you unravel with that same calculating smirk. How utterly absurd.

Your laughter devolves into choked breaths as your chest tightens painfully. The tears come next, hot and relentless, spilling down your cheeks. You’re sobbing now, loud and ugly, your body shaking uncontrollably.

Mark’s expression shifts, surprise flickering in his eyes. Then something darker takes hold—something intrigued, almost amused. He wasn’t expecting this, but oh, was he glad. He leans in closer, his lips curling into a softer smile. There was something seriously wrong with you. He knew it now. And that knowledge only made him more eager to figure out what had happened to his weak, adorable little sister.

“Oh, (Y/n),” he coos, his voice deceptively sweet as he cups your cheek with his large, warm hand. His thumb brushes against your tear-streaked skin, wiping away the evidence of your breakdown. His touch is firm but gentle, an unnerving mix of comfort and control.

You try to flinch away, your instincts screaming at you to get out of his grasp, but your body betrays you. Exhausted and overwhelmed, you slump into his hand, your head tilting slightly as if seeking solace. You hate it. You hate yourself for it. But you’re only human, and his warmth feels like the only anchor keeping you from completely spiraling.

“St-stop this,” you choke out between sobs, your voice barely audible. “Puh-please.”

Mark tilts his head, his expression almost mockingly innocent. “Stop what, (Y/n)?” he asks softly, his voice laced with feigned confusion.

“This,” you gasp, your voice trembling. “This—what you—you’re doing. Please, it—it isn’t fair.”

His hand doesn’t move from your cheek, and his thumb continues its slow, deliberate motion, wiping away fresh tears as they fall. His smile softens further, but his eyes remain sharp, predatory.

“Fair?” he echoes, as if tasting the word. “Oh, (Y/n). Life isn’t fair. You know that.” His voice drops lower, almost a whisper. “But you don’t have to worry about that. You don’t have to worry about anything. That���s what I’m here for.”

You shake your head weakly, your sobs growing quieter but no less intense. “You—”

He interrupts you gently, his voice soothing but utterly condescending. “Shh. Just let me take care of you.”

The words send a chill down your spine, the weight of his intent pressing down on you. You know there’s no escaping him now, not when he’s latched onto you like this. Not when he’s decided you’re his problem to solve, his little sister to protect—even if it means breaking you further in the process.

Mark’s gaze lingers on your trembling form, his hand still cradling your cheek. He studies you with a mix of curiosity and calculation, the wheels turning in his mind as he contemplates your place in all of this. Maybe he could make something useful out of you. Maybe you could be shaped into something worthy of the Viltrumite cause.

But as he takes in your tear-streaked face, the way your body shakes beneath his touch, he doubts it. You’re too weak. Too small. Too soft.

It’s almost pathetic how fragile you are, how human you are.

Still, the thought lingers—what if? What if you could prove yourself? What if, against all odds, you showed even the slightest potential? Perhaps then he could convince their father to keep you after the takeover. It would be difficult, of course. Nolan had little patience for weakness, and you were the embodiment of everything the Viltrumite race despised. But if you somehow managed to prove your worth, there was a chance.

Mark’s lips curve into a faint smile, the thought of sparing you for his mother’s sake bringing him a strange sense of satisfaction. You weren’t ideal offspring, no, far from it. But you were her daughter. Debbie would appreciate having you around, he’s sure of it, especially when their father inevitably takes her away from Earth to shield her from the chaos of their conquest.

“You’re lucky, you know,” Mark murmurs, his voice low and smooth. His thumb pauses for a moment, pressing lightly against your cheekbone as his eyes bore into yours. “If it weren’t for Mom, I wouldn’t even consider giving you a chance. But maybe… maybe you’ll surprise us.”

You blink at him, your chest tightening as his words sink in. “A-a chance? Mark, what are you—”

He cuts you off, his smile widening slightly, but there’s no warmth in it. “You’ll see,” he says cryptically, pulling his hand away and standing to his full height. His shadow looms over you, and for a brief moment, you feel like you’re shrinking under his gaze.

“Just remember, (Y/n),” he adds, his tone shifting to something colder, more deliberate. “This world isn’t kind to people like you. But you’re lucky to have me. I’ll make sure you don’t get left behind.”

The words feel like a promise and a threat all at once, leaving you frozen in place as he turns and walks away, his presence lingering long after he’s gone.

You’re left alone in the empty hallway, your breaths shaky and uneven, the weight of his intentions pressing down on you like a vice. Lucky, he said. But you don’t feel lucky. You feel trapped. And no amount of tears can wash that feeling away.

You sit there, slumped against the wall, trying to process what the hell Mark was talking about. “If it weren’t for Mom?” What does that even mean? Why would she have anything to do with whether Mark decided to “give you a chance?” What kind of chance was he even talking about?

Your mind spirals as you try to make sense of his cryptic words, the unease clawing at your insides. The idea that your mother somehow factored into whatever twisted plans Mark had for you only made the knot in your stomach tighten. What was he planning? What did he mean by not getting left behind?

Your thoughts race, one question bleeding into the next as panic wells up inside you. You can’t piece it together. You don’t have enough information. But the way he looked at you—the cold calculation behind his eyes, the way his words felt like a threat wrapped in false care—it makes your skin crawl.

You bury your face in your hands, your breathing shallow as your mind loops through the interaction. What the hell is going on?

Meanwhile, Mark is on his way out of the school building, his phone already in hand. He dials the familiar number, his expression cool and composed. The phone rings only twice before the unmistakable voice of his father, Nolan, answers.

“What is it?” Omni-Man’s voice is gruff, direct, as always.

Mark leans against the wall outside, his tone calm but tinged with a quiet urgency. “It’s about (Y/n),” he begins, cutting straight to the point. “There’s something off with her. More than usual.”

On the other end of the line, Nolan sighs. His voice is bored, disinterested. “Mark, your sister has always been like this. Emotional and a bit erratic. It’s nothing new.”

Mark clenches his jaw but keeps his tone steady. “No, Dad, this is different. She’s acting weird—like, really weird. Come’on, I’m sure you’ve noticed how she’s stopped constantly asking to go out with us? Or how everytime she looks at one of us, her heart rate always increases, hell, I could smell the adrenaline rush that gets triggered.”

Nolan’s silence stretches for a moment. “Dad, why is she having a fight or flight, fear response triggered, huh?”

“Of course I’ve noticed, Mark,” Omni-man sighs out. “If it’s worth worrying about, I’ll handle it. But until then, she’s just…” He pauses, and Mark can practically see the look on his father’s face. “She’s still a human.”

Mark exhales sharply, but he doesn’t argue. He knows better than to push Nolan when he’s like this. “Fine,” he says, his voice tight. “But if I find out something important, I’ll let you know.”

“Do that,” Nolan replies curtly, and the line goes dead.

Mark slips his phone back into his pocket, his expression unreadable. He’s not entirely satisfied with his father’s response, but he’s also not surprised. Nolan has never had much patience for what he considers “mundane human nonsense.” If (Y/n)’s behavior didn’t involve anything worthy of the Viltrumite cause, it simply wasn’t a priority to him.

Still, Mark can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to this than his father realizes. And if Nolan won’t take it seriously, then Mark will.

[entitled-fangirl]

A change of sigil.

Robb Stark x Baratheon!reader

Summary: After wedding Robb Stark and becoming the Lady of Winterfell, the reader learns about the king's death and the treason of Ned.

Masterlist

..............................................................

The newly wedded Y/N Stark (once Baratheon) ran through the corridors of Winterfell. 

Her eyes fell upon the Stark's Maester. Her eyes lit up. "A letter from my father? Has he finally written me back?"

The older man's eyes softened with guilt, "I'm afraid not, my lady."

Her face fell but she quickly recovered it, "oh. M… May I still see it?"

"This," He held it back from her, "Is for Lord Stark to read."

Embarrassment flooded her cheeks and she nodded. "Right. How foolish of me."

His lips pulled into a smile and he held his arm out. The North did like the gentle girl, after all, "C'mon, my lady. Walk to me to him so we may discuss the reason for such a letter."

She smiled back and took his arm.

…

"Treason?" Robb's brows furrowed and his teeth grit, "Sansa wrote this?"

"It is your sister's hand, but the queen's words."

Y/N's eyes remained on the table, unsure of what to think. Her mother was a cunning woman, and it did not surprise her of such a thing.

"You are summoned to King's Landing to swear fealty to the new king."

"My father is dead?" She interrupted quietly.

The men's eyes flickered to her.

Robb's anger did not falter, "Joffrey puts my father in chains, now he wants his ass kissed?"

The Maester sighed, "This is a royal command, my lord." His eyes flickered between the lord and lady, "If you should refuse to obey-"

"-I won't refuse," Robb quickly butted in. "His grace summons me to King's Landing, I'll go to King's Landing. But not alone."

He rolled the letter up and handed it back to the maester. "Call the banners."

"All of them, my lord?"

"They've all sworn to defend my father, have they not?"

"They have."

"Now, we see what their words are worth."

"Very well." The maester left quickly.

Y/N's eyes remained on the table, not once wavering. Robb noticed it and rounded the table to sit by her. His head tilted to study her further. His hand reached up to gently grab her jaw, moving her head to face him.

Her eyes connected with his, and they were filled with tears, "My father is dead?"

His lips pull into a line as he looks to Theon and back, "I'm afraid so."

She took a shaky breath in to keep the tears from falling. "Murdered?"

Theon stood at her words, angered a bit inside. He quickly bowed his head and left the room in a huff.

Robb shook his head, "No. Animal attack while hunting is all Sansa wrote."

She was quiet a while before she spoke again, "He loved me."

Robb gritted his teeth. "He had a funny way of showing it."

"But he did love me. I am worth nothing now."

"Hey." His voice lowered at his words. His grip on her jaw tightened. "Do not say such things. You are worth everything to me. Winterfell is your home. Its people are your people. They are loyal."

"Loyal to you. To your name."

"No." He pushed. "They will be loyal to you. You are still a princess after all, aren't you?"

She nodded.

"And more importantly," he kissed her forehead gently, "You are my wife."

She nodded again before a thought came to her. "What is keeping those that rule from killing your father and sisters just the same?"

His eyebrows raised and he shook her head, "Nothing, I suppose. I must hope they fear the North enough or I drive my sword through your brother before they can touch the Starks." He tilted his head, "I need your loyalty. I know I have it. But the people need it."

"I am loyal to you, Robb. You are all I have."

He smiles and caresses her face before shaking his head, "I don't want loyalty for fear or power. Your loyalty should be of trust and honor. I ask again, are you loyal to me, my love?"

"Without my father, the Baratheon sigil means nothing to me. I belong to House Stark now."

His smile grows and he kisses her gently, "I will win this. For you. For my family. I promise you."

..............................................................

A/N: I feel a series coming onnnnn

[cranberryjuice-posts]

Okay this fic idea has been in my head for weeks...

Imagine reader being Percy's (full) sister and secretly dating Clarisse. And Percy's rambling about not liking "hating" Clarisse and reader is just doing whatever and doing that thing where someone's pretending to be interested just hums and agrees absentmindedly and then he just says "Fuck Clarisse" and reader is like "GIRL I'M TRYING, BUT SHE'S BUSY" (this is not an actual smut request for her tho), but reader accidentally said it out loud (ik it's cliche to 'accidentally say stuff out loud but I like it in this context). And Percy is like "Excuse me what da fok" and then he storms off to yell at Clarisse and reader hears him yell "REALLY?! MY SISTER?!" and everyone who's watching is just scared for Percy and the consequenses of yelling at Clarisse.

I imagine the "Look here comes the consequence of my actions chasing me right now" audio during this scene

- I’ve been trying -

Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Reader

Synopsis - your secret relationship with clarisse quickly becomes not so secret

An - I BURNT MY FUCKING FINGER

Palestine aid links

It was a few hours before capture the flag. Most kids spent their time preparing for the game as it was the last one for summer; you however were pressed up against a tree with your favorite girl trailing sweet kisses down your neck.

“Fuck” you gasped as clarisse found your sweet spot. Bringing your hands to her hair you slightly tugged it, almost like an attempt to bring her closer of you could.

Clarisse flattened her tongue against the red mark she had began to leave. Her grip tightened on your hips and her leg pushing slightly between your thighs. The moment would of gone further only if clarisses brother hadn’t started yelling for hee.

Hitting her arm clarisse eventually came to, pulling away only slightly. “What-“ she panted heavily.

“Mm your brother he’s calling for you” you complained with a deep breath. Annoyed clarisse rolled her eyes. Taking a look around she returned her gaze back down at you, taking a notice of your pupil blown eyes. A giddy grin crossed her lips, finding her cocky attitude amusing you pushed off the tree to kiss her sweetly.

Shaking her head some clarisse squeezed your hip one last time. “You have no idea what you do to me… we’ll have to finish this later I’ll be busy for the rest of today and probably tomorrow” she sighed.

“Really” you complained making clarisse chuckle. “Yeah really, don’t get to bitchy it’s just two days”

Hitting her arm again you chuckled again. “Shut up I don’t get bitchy”

“Uh huh whatever you say babe” she teased drunkly walking backwards. Grabbing her spear she blew you a kiss before jogging towards the sound of her sibling calling.

——

“Then she has the AUDACITY! The fucking—“

“Language” you sighed giving Percy an authoritarian look. Shrugging you off he continued his ramble on about how he hated clarisse.

Shaking your head some you smiled finding it amusing your little brother hates your girlfriend. Though no body knew she was your girlfriend. You both agreeing on keeping it a secrete as it kept people off clarisses back and Percy off yours.

Your relationship with Percy had always been a little strained. Finding out you were a demigod let alone a daughter of Poseidon you had left home at an early age; causing you to never really know your brother. Growing up at camp it seemed like Percy was more like your friend than sibling. You still came home however, every holiday you were back in the same shitty apart with the same shitty step father.

When Percy finally came to camp it was easier to build a relationship with him. And for once… it felt like you really did have a brother.

“…also her blaming me for her spear breaking like it isn’t HER FAULT for attacking me! And I swear to the gods if I hear one more person say she isn’t that bad I’ll scream” Percy groaned holding his head in his hands while he paced in mad circles. Finally tuning back into the conversation the first thing you had heard — “UGH fuck clarisse!” He huffed.

“Girl I’m trying but she won’t be free until Sunday” you groaned holding your head back. It took only a moment for you to realize what you had said.

Looking at you then a door he quickly ran out, following his lead you chased after him. “Percy wait!” You yelled half laughing.

Instantly finding clarisse Percy stood before the cocky girl who was sitting with her siblings on the porch of their cabin; waiting for the final hour before the games.

Clarisse turned her attention from her brothers to Percy before scoffing. “What do You want beanstalk” her instult causing a small fit of laughter around her.

“MY SISTER OUT OF EVERYONE YOUR SLEEPING WITH MY SISTER!!” He shouted causing his face to go red.

The people around went quiet. For what seemed like minutes lasted only a few seconds before Percy began yelling again.

Clarisse who was stunned just sat there and let the boy yell at her. Standing right beside him was an embarrassed version of yourself.

At a certain point she had gotten tired of the small boy shouting at Her. His breaking voice annoying her. Standing up clarisse walked over to you, placing her hands on your waist and kissing you sweetly.

A slightly laugh leaving her lips as she knew your brother was watching in astonishment. Breaking the kiss she smiled at you before turning her shit eating grin to Percy. “Mind your business. What your sister does with me I’m sure you don’t wanna know” she chuckled, hitting your ass before walking away with her siblings following quickly.

Percy looked at you once again shocked. “Isn’t she dreamy” she smiled giddily. Your brother sighed, grabbing your shirt and dragging you away.

[fuctacles]

bonding activity

For @steddie-spooktober prompt "can you please stop trying to scare them?" | 1427 | T | getting together, fluff, post-canon | brainstormed with @blasvemous | Ao3 | ko-fi

more spooktober: witch

"Steve."

Steve doesn't react. He's standing by the dirtiest window Eddie's ever seen, peeking from behind a curtain to see the groups entering the house. 

"Steve!" Eddie hisses insistently.

"What?!" Steve snaps back. 

Eddie widens his eyes at him. 

"We should get into positions," he reminds his friend as if they haven't been doing this for over a week now. 

"Mhm," Steve nods absentmindedly, eyes back on the outside. "You do that."

"Are you waiting for Henderson again?"

"Maybe."

Eddie groans, stepping back towards him. They have about ten minutes before the next group walks in, even more before they get to this part of the haunted house.

"Could you please stop trying to scare him? This house is the same every year, and this kid fought Demogorgons, why do you care about stupid fair attraction?" he presses, crossing his arms. 

"It's kind of my duty as an older brother," Steve points out, sparing him a short glance. "Besides, his attitude has been insufferable lately. Gotta teach him a lesson."

That, Eddie could agree with. Henderson has been a little shit about their current gig, talking all cocky about how it was 'entertainment for little kids' and they wouldn't have to do much. Eddie took scaring kids very seriously, thank you very much. 

He was also grateful for the scheme Steve and Robin had pulled to get him the job. It was a small thing, but enough to start getting on the good side with the residents of Hawkins. And also a good way to spend time with Steve, his new and unlikely friend. Eddie reminds him of that, too.

"We were supposed to be bonding," he pouts.

"We'll be bonding after I make Dustin pee his pants," Steve responds shortly, making Eddie scoff. But seeing how unwavering Steve is in his plan, he sighs and steps right into his personal space.

"Promise?" he asks, jabbing a finger into his ribs. 

Steve jolts, but it has the desired effect of getting his attention back on Eddie. He grabs his hand to push it safely away from his body, his eyes finally focusing on his friend and softening. 

"Yeah, man, I promise."

"Great. Because I actually like it here, which I didn't think I'd say about a legal job." Steve snorts softly. "I guess it's fun to work with a friend."

"Yeah," Steve finally smiles fully. "It is."

"And I know you'd rather be doing it with Buckley, but—"

Steve cuts him off with a shake of his head. 

"Don't be stupid dude, even the bestest of friends need some time apart. And it's a blast working with you. The way you made that dude cry yesterday? Fucking priceless." He grins. 

Eddie grins back. 

"Yeah, love how he grabbed onto his wife."

They burst into snickers until a girl rushes past them, reminding them to get into positions. Eddie salutes, and parts with his dear friend. 

"Please think about me fondly. I will miss you dearly," he sighs deeply, caressing Steve's bicep. 

Steve plays along, reciprocating his longing gaze.

"I am missing you already, darling," he says, pressing a phantom of a kiss onto his hand. 

Eddie snickers and skitters away towards his post. For the sake of the job and his sanity. 

Eddie's determined to keep Steve's attention on himself instead of people-watching. Maybe constantly bothering him isn't the best course of action but stick to what you know, right?

"You're putting a damper on my fun, Harrington," he says behind Steve's shoulder as he's eyeing the outside. 

"I know. I'm sorry." And he sounds genuinely regretful. Like his resolve is slowly falling apart, the point of childish games with his brother slowly getting forgotten. 

"You know, you would scare him if you'd just put effort into all of the groups . Keep it at one hundred and you won't miss."

"Yeah, but that's tiring," Steve whines. 

Eddie rolls his eyes. 

"Oh my god, you're such a princess," he mutters. 

"I'm not." Steve frowns, offended.

"Yes, you are." 

Steve already knows there is no point in arguing with Eddie, so he only glares his way. It's not a huge win, but at least he's not looking out the window. Eddie pushes toward victory. 

"And you could be having fun, too, if you weren't so focused on Henderson. I, for one, take pride and joy in my craft of making kids pee their pants," he says with reverence, hand pressed to his chest. 

Steve raises his eyebrows. 

"Yeah, and how many times have you managed that?"

"Zero, but I'm still enjoying myself! And I made one girl faint!"

Steve snorts. 

"Yeah, you'd be proud of that."

"Well, not all of us can do that without the help of a horror setting." Eddie rolls his eyes. "Which, you could be using to your advantage too," he points out, capturing Steve's attention enough to maneuver him away from the window. "You scare a girl, then you take her to a quiet corner to calm her down, a perfect crime!" he throws his arms up but upon seeing Steve's frown, he backtracks. 

"Well, not a crime, of course, but a little, uh, harmless mischief," he amends with an innocent smile. 

Steve's shoulders sag as he sighs.

"Yeah, that was kind of my whole point of doing this. But it's harder than I thought," he says with a wince. 

"Since when?" Eddie frowns in confusion. "I mean, yeah, your game has been off, but you always went for it anyway. Which, I respect as fuck by the way. I could never." He lets out a small, humorless laugh. 

The room falls silent and when he looks up again, Steve is looking straight at him.

"You should try."

"Yeah, probably," he shrugs, but Steve remains unfazed. 

"I'm serious. Go for it." 

They engage in some serious staring competition that makes Eddie squirm, his whole skin itching. 

"Dude, what are you—"

"Have we not been flirting this whole time?" 

Eddie blinks. 

"Uh."

"I wanted this job so we could be alone for once."

"Uh."

"And I'm sorry for getting distracted with the Dustin thing, but I'm back on track now." Finally, his confidence wavers. "That is, if we're on the same one, you know. I might have completely misread the situation."

Eddie shakes his head. 

"No, no. I was, uh, same track, page, yeah," he pulls a strand of hair over his reddening cheeks, but none of them moves. 

"Sooo, are you going to, or am I supposed to—"

"Oh, what the Hell," Eddie mutters, grabbing onto Steve's shirt to pull him forward. He places a lightly off-center kiss on his lips and can feel the body under his palms sagging with relief. 

Steve hums softly. 

"And you said my game was off," he mutters against his lips. 

"Oh, you little shit." Eddie smirks dangerously before he presses in without his previous hesitance. If Steve wants to play, Eddie's good at making up his own rules. 

They find a wall to rest against, and Steve's hand has just ventured to Eddie's ass when an ear-piercing shriek makes them jump apart. 

"What! The fuck!" They can hear Dustin's voice, but he's trying to blind them with his flashlight, so his face stays hidden until the rest of the gang joins him. Someone's light shows his pale, shell-shocked expression. 

"Why are you molesting my brother?!" He points accusingly at Eddie. "And you!" He turns to Steve, still braced against the wall. "You were groping my DM!"

Steve rolls his eyes. 

"Please, I barely touched him," he scoffs. 

"Yeah." Eddie crosses his arms to show his disappointment. "Because you so rudely interrupted."

"Ew! Ew ew ew ew ew!" Dustin covers his ears and moves forward, almost running into a wall in his haste to escape. The rest of The Party follows, though much calmer. Lucas even stalls behind to give the two older boys a thumbs up. 

"Congrats." He grins before disappearing after his friends. 

"Well..." Eddie trails off once the sound of distressed Dustin fades away. "I'd say we scared him pretty well, so, mission accomplished?" He smiles, throwing finger guns to sell his point better. 

"Two missions, even." Steve smiles back, motioning him to come back closer. 

"Two birds, one stone. Very time-saving of us." Eddie happily returns to his place in the other's orbit, which also means his ass is reachable again.

"We could go for two birds one hand later?" Steve offers, but all it does is make Eddie laugh loudly. 

"Holy shit, you truly have no game, Harrington! You're lucky I dig it." 

[izzabela]

white noise - audio 1

a/n: I just wanted to drop in and say....THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR SUPPORTING THE ORIGINAL IDEA SO HARD GUYS!!! special thanks to @junovae , @red5tars , @devil-in-hiding , and @beloveds-embrace for boosting and hyping my idea up. i've been letting this marinate in my head for a long time, and I'm so glad that it's well-received :)

please please PLEASE enjoy guys, i worked really hard to make sure this was a perfect first chapter :>

"What on God's green Earth do you think you're doing with this schedule!?" your boss's words flying to you as fast as the papers he threw off the side his desk.

As the assortment of schedules, checks, files, and folders rain down like snow, you simply look at your boss with a cool smile and dead eyes. You've dealt with things like this before, the same tantrums over and over again with a man who's still growing up at forty-five.

The sun was setting over the New York City skyline, and you've just about had it for the day. It's been thirty minutes since your allotted time to clock out, and this man-child is still holding you up like a baby with his pacifier.

"Sir, you have a meeting with XYZ's CEO stand-in Friday morning," you calmly explain to the toddler as you pick up his mess. "That same day, you have a lunch on Wall Street with Mr. Allen in regard to the upcoming acquisition to one of your sub-companies."

Without breaking a sweat (but most definitely popping a blood vessel), you continue to give reasonable excuses for your choice in scheduling.

"And on that same day, sir, your presence is requested at your brother's residence, to celebrate his third engagement," you finish, giving him a good once-over to see how he's doing. "Speaking of, did you purchase that Rolex I linked you? I had sent you a message via work-phone with the exact link."

He's matting his poorly-worn toupee wig down and coughing profusely.

100-0, you tally your mental game you've been keeping track of.

As you grab the last piece of paper, ironically the one with his Friday schedule, you place the stack back on the center of his desk. There's enough force pressed down that his name plaque jumps (maybe in fear for your wrath too).

"Do you have any other questions sir? Or am I free to go home?" you smile tightly, hands neatly over themselves on your belly.

"Y-you're free to leave," he pulls his necktie nervously, beads of sweat on his forehead and palms as his butter-fingers attempt to fix his tie.

You nod, keeping the tight smile all the way past the threshold of his office, past the snarky bitch of a front-desk woman, and all the way to the elevator.

"Good afternoon, Pumps," the elevator-doorman greets you. "Long day in the office?"

"An understatement, George..." you sigh, rubbing your temples in circles to soothe an incoming headache.

George was probably your only peace in this hellscape of an office: kind demeanor, soft voice, manners, it seems the bar is below the ground with how poorly people behave here in your office.

It's silent on the way down, the light jazz of the elevator music filling the conversation-less space.

Ding

George's gloved hand presses the open door button, and you mosey on out with a little falter in your step.

"Take a rest, Pumps. Lord knows what will happen if you leave that man to his devices," he humors, earning your chuckle as you give him one more wave before walking past the front desk of the main entrance and into the revolving doors.

You spin in the revolving doors for a mere moment before getting spat out back on the street. You'd think that the sunset would help soothe your growing pain, but the streets come to life with blaring neon lights and flickering street lamps.

This is New York City after all.

Slapping your shades on and plugging your earphones in, you begin the trek home. Your houlders slumped and legs dragging like an army man coming home from deployment, you mindlessly listen to your de-stress playlist to try and relax before heading home. You don't think the pain of your head will leave until Siri reads a notification.

A NEW POST FROM GHOST PLUS A LONG MESSAGE, WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO READ IT?

Suddenly all your pain felt nonexistent, and you've regained bounce in your step once again. Your favorite voice actor posted, and a long notification means scripted content.

You discovered him, a VA named "Ghost" after scrolling through Reddit for a bit. The nation of subgroups and communities, you found your forever home with him after a ramble fap of his after a stressful day of work a couple of years ago.

Enamored by his husky voice, low timbre of his throat, and his British accent, you learned he had more than just Reddit. You didn't think you'd be addicted, but after exhausting his master-list on Reddit, you decide to follow his links to other places.

Other than his fifty-thousand on Reddit, he has one-hundred thousand on Youtube for his SFWs and one million on TFCo (the audio company he belongs to)- and when you saw his exclusive content? Well, you just had to get your hands on it all. Not to mention he's a successful voice acting career in audio books (you've bought those solely because he voices some of the characters).

And if one thinks this is degenerate, try working for a man who can't think for himself- you'd do anything to decompress and relax.

Which is where you are in the present, picking up your pace to head back to your house so you can relax with the voice that makes you delusional.

The walk felt like a marathon, but you finally made it to the lobby of your apartment. You don't even need to push the door open when they swing inwards for you, accompanied by another familiar voice.

"'Notha long day, Pumps?" a thick Yankee accent rings in your ears. You offer a bright smile, trying to hide the fact your leg muscles have been screaming at you all day.

You take your earphones out. "Nothin' I can't handle, Tony," you describe your day in a mere two words. He only sighs and shakes his head, offering to walk you all the way to the elevator.

Tony looks at you funny, "Can't fool me, lil' miss," he scolds. "Your calves are twitchin', 'ich means you need a good 'n long bath."

You chuckle, "You got it Thomas. Warm bath and sleep."

You hear a faint "atta girl" as you step into the elevator, and his figure disappears behind the silver walls as you go up to another battle.

Ding

The doors part, and you hear the echo of your shoes bounce off the walls as you near your flat door. Lost in the sea of your stuff, your keys probably lost in the void called "your purse," you hear a shuffle and a click of another door opening.

Out walks the guy that moved in right next door. You watch with a glare, eyeing him like someone eyes a stain on their clothes. He wears the same black trousers, black t-shirt topped with a black jacket with his head hooded, and that stupid black face mask with the lower part of a skull.

"Evenin' Simon," you begrudgingly greet. He turns towards you, also eyes you head to toe, and nods.

You do everything in your power to hold yourself back from strangling him.

Simon always struck you as odd: didn't talk to anyone, wore black (and black only), and dressed poorly. Everyone who lived in this side of NYC came from daddy's money, mommy's trust fund, or a mix of both. You took his apprehension in talking as introversion, so you tried to make your presence (and support) known from afar.

In the first month he moved in, you tried to strike up conversation whenever you'd see him leave or enter his room. Just like he did now, he'd offer nothing but a simple glance-over and a sizing, eyeing up and down like a child.

Over the next couple of months, you tried peace offerings of food and snacks. From homemade meals, to little snacks and munchies, you left them at his doorstep for him to grab by himself. You're pretty sure he hated them, usually finding nothing left on your door.

(Unbeknownst to you, Simon ate everything of yours to the bone- no crumbs left).

Since his initial move-in, you've counted that it'll be almost a year since he moved next door to you. God found you his strongest soldier with the way you remained so patient with him and his disdain for others.

One thing you haven't let go, though, was the noise he made late in the night. Whatever he missed in the day (which is usually 100% of noise he never made in the day), he'd make it up tenfold deep into the night. Sometimes you hear him curse loudly, or the annoying creak of his bed slamming into his wall. There were even moments where you've heard him laugh like a villain, before he'd goes back to letting curses wring out like water from a wash rag.

You've really tried to be patient with him, but juggling between a fool of a boss and an ignorant man, you felt it chip away at you like weathered stone.

You make your frustration clear, shuffling the stuff in your bag a bit louder, hoping that he'd get the memo, but he walks past you like a speck of dirt- unnoticed and left behind. Finding your flat key, you groan as you twist, unlock, and make it inside your apartment. You drop everything in the hallway, kick your heels off, and crash on your couch.

Usually you'd take this time to scroll through Instagram, catch up with messages you missed, or simply flip through Netflix to find the perfect show, but all you craved right now is sleep, a shower, and food (maybe a bit of wine too).

"Get to it, Pumps," you scold yourself, pushing yourself off the plush cushions. "For George and Tony..."

Seems your doorman and elevator-man were right, a hot shower does wonders. Though you came out of the shower a bit dazed, at least you were relaxed now. Your stomach wasn't, though, as it grumbled angrily.

"Yeah yeah, I heard ya," you mumbled, opening up your fridge to find it empty and sad (was that a fly leaving?). You curse and make a mental note for groceries tomorrow after work.

"Ramen will do just fine," you answer yourself, walking to the pantry to grab an instant pack to cook.

It's nice and quiet as you cook your noodles, the faint sounds of the city traffic sounding more like a lullaby than record scratch. You look over to your side as you stir your pot, the floor-to-ceiling windows allowing full view of the Empire State building, park, and the other buildings in the area.

Taking the pot off the stove, you carefully place it over a pot holder and grab a bowl. Pouring the soup and noodles in, you multitask and check anymore notifications you missed through the day, and the one from a couple of hours ago is first in line. The TFCo notification banner is calling your name, and you press it immediately to see what's new with your man, "Ghost."

The notification read an announcement for a new exclusive drop, a werewolf!shifter! in rut taking his pretty bunny!shifter in heat, and the tags filled your belly with butterflies: primal play, chase, CNC, shifters, and a mean!ghost tag- the list is filled with dirty tropes that make your core tighten and panties damp.

You're tempted to drop everything and fall victim to your desires, but ignoring your stomach felt like a bad omen in the making (and another earful from Tony would not be good). Besides, it was on your phone- you can wait.

Enjoying the loaded sodium soup of your ramen, you do some more doom scrolling on some other accounts and socials of VAs you follow. You occasionally listen to Soap Dish, a Scot with a fiery temper and even hotter audios, you listen to him when you want something goofy or silly. Occasionally though, he'll drop a great CNC, mean audio that really gets you heated.

Then there's Gazzandgoo (Gaz for short), another British VA with great all-around content. Ranging from mean BDSM audios to him whimpering and subbing, you enjoy Gaz's flexibility and range with his voice. A guilty pleasure of yours is his whimpering and sub audios (high powered job needs equal amounts of destress right?).

Slurping the last of your soup down, you didn't realize the time left you as your phone's clock read "eleven thirty" (was the doom-scroll that bad this time around?). Doesn't matter since it's officially "you time"- where only you, your search history, and the government knows what you're doing tonight.

After a quick rinse and toss of your bowl and utensils in your dishwasher, you dig for your headphones from your bag so you can indulge. Scooping it out, along with some papers, hair pins, and business cards, you leave the mess for tomorrow as you enter your room. Pictures of your friends, the few family you had in contact, diploma, and posters judge you as you get into bed and in a comfortable position.

Leaning back, headphones in, you press the notification of the TFCo app and watch your phone light up with the direct audio link of Ghost and his latest content.

There's lots of sound effects as the audio plays, the script being very in depth. You hear the rustling of leaves and grass, the billowing breeze, and the faintest noise of pebbles rolling over each other. The image of a forest is painted in your mind, and the painting gains a new addition with the sound of ragged breathing.

"Ah.... fuck..." the recording of Ghost's voice is in the background as you hear his groans and moans grow closer.

You close your eyes and let yourself go in the audio, imagining Ghost's werewolf character pouncing on top of you.

"'N what's this pretty bunny doin' here?" he muses in your ears. "Wandered on the wrong side of the forest, huh? Stupid fucking bun..."

Your legs twist and close, the friction of your panty fabric and your legs pressing together getting you worked up. Imagining what Ghost looks like, what he feels like, is sending you into overdrive as he continues to speak in your headphones.

"You look fucking delicious," he groans, and you shiver as you hear the sound effects of his hands running across a toy he uses for a body. "So soft, so fucking perfect. Gonna be a meal for me?"

You dumbly reply to the emptiness of your room, and your cheeks blush as Ghost groans again.

"You sound so cute begging for your life. How 'bout a deal?" he eggs you on, and you nod once again.

"If you can outrun me and make it out the forest, you get your life," he offers the first half of his wager.

He chuckles, "The other part? That's easy, isn't it bun?" you hear him brush over his mic to get real close. "If you can't, you'll be my meal."

"On the count of three. One, two," your chest is rising and falling quickly, the anticipation of what he'll do pushing you to the edge. "Go."

The sound effects of your character running through the grass, hopping and sprinting in order to stay alive. You cave and shove your hands down under the waistband of your panties, fingers flicking over your sensitive bud as you can hear Ghost grow closer and closer.

You hear the sounds of Ghost wrestling, noises of foliage and nature bending and breaking under you. The audio paints the picture of you pinned under Ghost, and his maniacal laughter rolls through your ears thanks to binaural headphone settings.

"Pathetic," he spits out at your futile escape. "Were you even trying?"

It sounds like Ghost was sniffing you, his inhalations close to the mic as he comments on your scent. You can also hear the sfx of him reaching down and to your aching pussy.

"Oh... maybe you weren't trying bunny," he teases, the audio effects of pussy squelching invading your ears. "Maybe you wanted this- wanted to get lost, caught, and eaten alive by the big bad wolf..."

You whimper, circles over your little clit growing faster and needier as his voice rings through your mind. "Beg me for your life- 'please don't eat me, Mr. Wolf'- beg me nice 'n proper..."

The squelching grows more obscene, and you can't tell if that's your own cunt or the toy he's using in the audio. It doesn't matter though, as the sounds of wet pussy stop, and you hear a shift in weight and position.

"I take it back- no need to beg when your cunt is drenched, bun," he teases, and you're so sure his cock in tapping the entrance of the toy that represents you.

"What? Scared? 'Fraid my cock's gonna hurt?" he asks, and you respond with a sad keen (ironic, since your fingers are working overtime for you to reach your peak).

Suddenly, a deep grumble and "oh fuck" is heard, and you realize Ghost is stuffing you full in the audio. You moan a little louder, slipping a single finger in, curling it to make sure it hits your spot just right.

Perverted sounds of Ghost's cock bullying the toy he uses to represent his listeners fill your ears, and the sounds of said toy smashing into his hips add sprinkles of erotica as you imagine yourself getting stuffed full of him. Lost in your own pleasure, you squeeze your eyes tight as you focus on reaching your finish.

You must've wandered a little too far in your imagination as you didn't feel your earbuds fall of your ears. The audio is no longer heard for you, but you can't tell when you're riding off of your imagination (and maybe the faint audio that's coming from the earbuds, since they're on full blast).

You're drawn out of your lust as the earbuds fall like marbles on your hardwood floors. Immediately, your hand flies away from your aching sex, and you see the buds lay pitifully on the floor. You groan, borderline sulking over the fact something so simple drew you away from your peak.

As you reach for your tech, your ears catch on to another noise. It's coming past your bedroom walls, and it sounds a lot like the audio you're listening to right now.

"Such a good girl f'r me..." the voice groans, a strangled moan escaping the lips of your neighbor and entering your ears.

"He sounds so familiar...." you whisper to yourself, and the next line he grunts out pieces all of the issues you've had with him together.

"You wanted this, didn'tcha? Takin' all 'f me like a dumb slag, but'cha wanted this didn'tcha?"

"You like this, don't ya?" he annunciates, semi-muffled noises of a pocket-pussy getting stretched out like actual cunt floating into your ears.

Every ounce of arousal has left your body as your braincells fire and connect the dots, and you swear you can hear the sounds of bells echoing in your brain.

"Ghost" is Simon, and Simon is "Ghost."

And "Ghost" is your neighbor.

ding ding ding