#idk how to draw people in cars f me

[frm9pm]

When I was a kid I heard that Alan Rickman took the child actors out for milkshakes to help them not be afraid of Snape, but then they ended up spilling the milkshake in his car. I have no idea if it’s actually true but it’s always been on my mind :’)

[joelscurls]

I wanna show you off

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 4.1k

summary: The women who live in your building aren't subtle in their hatred for you — or their affection for your boyfriend, Joel. You decide to set them straight.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, porn with plot, no outbreak, established relationship, implied age gap, horrible neighbors, general cattiness, all the ladies want Joel, alcohol consumption, fluff, explicit smut, possessive!reader, exhibitionism, dirty talk, oral (m receiving), facefucking, unprotected piv, creampie, one (1) spank, use of pet names (baby, angel, darlin', etc.), I think that's all? lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: idk what happened. I saw one too many tiktok edits set to the song agora hills by doja cat and blacked out. anyway, enjoy!

If it weren’t for your rent-controlled apartment with a perfect view of the downtown skyline, you would’ve moved out of your building by now.

Your neighbors don’t like you. You’re certain of it. You can tell by the way the ladies stick their noses up at you in the elevator and whisper to each other the second they think you’re out of earshot.

It had started, you suspect, because of your age. You’re a lot younger than all of the other residents here, your apartment left to you by your grandmother after she passed away.

The building is prime real estate, situated in the heart of one of the city’s most desirable neighborhoods. Most of the people who live here have done so for ten, twenty, even thirty years. And it seems that time has festered a sort of social hierarchy: one which places you at the very bottom.

You shouldn’t care. And you hadn’t, for a while. But their eyes have started to feel like daggers, pointed directly at you at all times, and you feel as if you can’t even enter the building without judgment.

You’re not a bad neighbor. You’re not. You’d learned through living in a dormitory in college how thin shared walls can be, and, as a result, the proper volume at which to keep your music; how you should always be cautious to not let your door slam closed on the way in; that you should never vacuum after eight pm or before eight am.

You never leave trash in the hallway, and you park your car only in your allotted spot, despite the fact that it’s the farthest away from the building.

Even so, the lack of weathering in your face makes them look at you like you’re less, like you’re a greedy little thing who has taken something she isn’t worthy of.

It’s the same way they look at you when they see you with your boyfriend, Joel, for the first time.

They leer when you walk into the foyer, hand-in-hand with an older man. He’s handsome, rugged, something out of Nicholas Sparks novel. And you’re you.

Joel thinks you’re being paranoid at first, says they couldn’t possibly hate such a sweet, friendly girl. The girl he loves so damn much. But it doesn’t take long for him to notice it too: the glares, the scoffs, the misplaced judgment — never set in his direction, only ever yours.

One Sunday afternoon, as he sits on your couch watching the Cowboys game with a sweating bottle of beer in his hand, you step out to grab your mail. You’re close to tears when you return, flinging the door open, envelopes slipping from your trembling fingers. 

He leaps up as soon as he catches sight of your face. Your expression is stuck somewhere between sadness and rage, bottom lip tucked between your teeth so firmly he worries you’ll draw blood.

“I hate them,” you sob as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his broad chest. You’re wetting his shirt, the one he just bought the other day. But he won’t let you lift your head. If anything, he holds you tighter.

“Wanna tell me what happened, darlin?” he asks, leading you toward the couch. You sit down together, your body still wrapped in his, and you groan.

“It’s stupid.” Your voice is muffled by cotton. He loosens his grip on you only enough to let you turn your face. “I was getting my mail, and they were down in the lobby,” you sniff. “The woman who lives right next door – the one with the outdated perm, and the one across the hall with the yippy little dog.”

“Mhm,” Joel soothes, running his thumb gently along the tense line of your jaw. “Did they say somethin’ to you?”

You huff. “No, not to me. They didn’t see me there.”

Their hushed voices still ring in your head like a fire alarm in need of new batteries: relentless, infuriating.

Don’t know what in the world a handsome gentleman like that is doing with a little girl like her. You’re tellin’ me. What a shame. Such a young thing – she can’t possibly know how to handle a man like that. He needs a woman his own age!

“They said I’m not good for you,” you weep. “That I’m too young. That I — I c-can’t be what you need.”

“Darlin,” Joel drawls. He fishes the tv remote off of the coffee table and flicks the screen off. Drops it somewhere next to him on the cushion. The apartment is noticeably quiet now, apart from your shaky breaths and the dull drone of an idling truck engine from the street below.

“You know I love you, right?” 

You sniff again. Nod. 

“I don’t give a shit if people think you’re too young for me,” he huffs. “You’re a grown woman. You give me everything I could possibly need and then some.”

“Yeah?” you squeak. You know deep down that Joel wouldn’t stay with you if he had any reservations about any aspect of your relationship. But after months of no reprieve from stinging glares and brash insults, you feel as if you’ve been broken down, reduced to an anxious, overwrought version of yourself. 

Joel repositions himself, sprawling back on the couch and pulling you with him so that you’re laying against him. “Yeah,” he repeats, stroking your hair. He tucks a loose strand behind your ear, away from your glassy eyes. “Those ladies can get their asses in line.” 

You laugh, then — a real, genuine laugh — the kind that Joel can somehow always pull out of you, even in the most inopportune of times.

You’re so grateful for him, for his innate ability to calm you down when it feels like the world is crumbling below your feet. Grateful that he’s yours.

You lift your head. Prop yourself up by the elbow on Joel’s thigh. Wipe away the lingering wet on your cheeks with a deep, settling breath. 

“Does it stroke your ego, having a fan club of women who wanna fuck you?”

He smirks. Pulls you closer to him with a hand cradling your face. 

“Maybe a little,” he whispers, his lips ghosting yours. “Does it stroke your ego, bein’ the only one who gets to fuck me?” 

And in truth, it does. You’re the only one who knows where he likes to be kissed, how he likes his cock stroked, how to make him cum embarrassingly quick with just your mouth.

You’ve learned him intimately, every inch of him.  Ruined him for any other woman.

So in a fucked up kind of way — it does.

“Yeah,” you admit. You suck his bottom lip into your mouth, silently reveling in the way he immediately moans, the way he bends to you.

“These all mine?” You bring a finger to his lips, sputter on a shaky exhale when he unexpectedly parts them and sucks the digit into his mouth.

“Mhm,” he hums around you, takes your free hand in his and guides it down his body, across the expanse of his torso, the plush of his belly, pausing when you reach his crotch. 

Your pulse quickens, then, a dull throb forming at the base of your neck. You extricate your finger from his mouth with a gentle pop.

“This too,” he whispers, canting his hips up toward the flat of your palm.

He’s half-hard, his clothed bulge pleading for attention. But he pulls your hand away quickly, not letting himself get carried away at the feeling of your fingers grazing him through denim. 

Instead, he re-situates it against his chest so that you can feel his heartbeat where it hammers under skin, against flesh and bone. “This is all yours too,” he says, voice so low it reverberates in your skull. 

“All of it — all of me. Don’t gotta worry your pretty little head with anythin’ anyone else has to say about the matter. Got it?”

His words are spoken with so much conviction that you have no choice but to believe them, to let them stick in your brain like anchors in sand: deep and immovable.

Yours, yours, yours. 

And nobody else’s.

“Yeah,” you smile into the column of his neck, inhaling his scent: mostly him, but with notes of you. 

“Got it.”

It’s two weeks later when she makes a move on him: the woman with the perm. Joel is taken aback by her boldness, with you just a few feet away, digging your key into the lock of your mailbox. 

“You must work with your hands,” she purrs, grabbing one of his wrists and examining his calloused fingers with such little integrity, his mouth actually slips open at the unabashedness of it all. 

“Uh-”

“I’m Sheila,” she hums, raking her fingers through tight, blonde curls. “And you are?”

“Joel,” he grunts noncommittally. Wrenches his arm back. He doesn’t miss the way her eyebrows twitch in offense. 

But she’s insatiable, this woman. She bounces back like a rubber band, not-so-subtly pushing her breasts together, the zip of her sweatshirt slipping down an inch and her mouth curving into a salacious grin.

You just about stop dead in your tracks when you round the corner to the lobby, junk mail in hand, and see her, her body turned towards Joel’s, chest pushed out and hip popped. She has a bedazzled tote bag full of groceries slung over her shoulder, a head of leafy greens poking out the top.

“Hi neighbor!” she smiles mockingly at you, all lipstick-stained teeth, when you sidle up to Joel. “I was just telling your friend here what nice, strong arms he has.” She’s not looking at you, eyes locked firmly on Joel’s biceps, nearly drooling at the sight of him. 

Heat spools behind your ears, red-hot.

“Not her friend,” Joel corrects before you can. “‘M her boyfriend.”

“Oh,” she says. “Boyfriend.” Her lips wrap loosely around the word, like it’s some fanciful thing. “You’re too old to be someone’s boyfriend.” 

Joel takes a step away from her, closer to you, and splays a steadying hand across your back. “Man-friend, then.” 

You laugh, not because it’s funny, but because this entire conversation is fucking awkward. 

Sheila pays you no attention.

“Well,” she sighs, overtly staring at the exposed skin of Joel’s chest, where the top two buttons of his flannel are undone, “Joel, if you’re ever lookin’ for a good meal, I’m just next door.” She flits her eyes up to his and smirks. “Know a big man like you has gotta eat.”

Your vision blurs scarlet. 

Joel is equally as infuriated. The disrespect of this woman, to so openly flirt with him in front of you. His fists ball tightly at his sides. 

“Thanks, but no thanks,” he gruffs. “Anyway, nice to meet ya ma’am-“

“Sheila,” she reminds him. 

“Sheila,” he repeats, only to appease her. He turns to you, squeezing your waist affectionately. “We should probably get goin’, right sweetheart?”

You’re still fuming, barely able to register Joel’s voice next to you through the thick haze of pure fury clouding your mind, but you manage to nod, spit out a hurried yeah.

And with that, Joel is turning on his heels, pulling you with him toward the elevators. You don’t dare look back at her, but you can feel her eyes boring a hole in the back of your head. 

Her footfall fades into the mailroom and you breathe a minuscule sigh of relief. At least she’s out of your sight.

“Please just move in with me,” Joel begs when you’re finally behind closed metal doors, the inspection plaque situated above the buttons suddenly extremely interesting as you try to focus on not thinking about setting this woman’s apartment on fire.

You’ve talked about living together a few times. It’s just — you’ve never considered it so seriously until right now. 

“I can’t let them win,” you mutter, agitated. 

You hate how they’ve made you feel, like you’re some helpless animal tucked in the corner, hiding from them. Just waiting for the next ambush. 

With the passing of each floor, your anger simmers, bubbles into a silent rage in your stomach, one which threatens to boil over at the next underestimation of Joel’s devotion to you. You need to make it known, once and for all, that he’s yours. 

Words from your grandmother play on a loop in your head, ones she repeated to you often when you were a child: if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. 

And then you have a thought — a devious thought — maybe you don’t have to say anything to get your point across. Not to them, anyway.

Your mouth is on Joel the second you’re back inside the four walls of your own apartment, slotting against his pulse point and sucking a desperate bruise there.

He’s not expecting it — why would he be? You’ve just been seething the entire elevator ride up to your floor, the entire walk down the long, winding hallway to your unit. He’d practically been able to see the steam billowing from your ears. 

So the switch-up is more than a bit dizzying, to say the least.

“Whoa, darlin’,” he pants, his large hands draping over your shoulders. “What are you-”

“Joel.” Your voice is stern; it demands his attention. “Do you trust me?” 

Your hand trails down his body languidly, in a straight line to the waistband of his jeans. And fuck, of course he trusts you — more than anyone. But this is wrong, fucked up, for you to make him feel good when you’ve been made to feel so small these past few minutes. 

Still, his cock doesn’t get the memo, twitching in his jeans as you place another open-mouthed kiss on the underside of his jaw, your fingers beginning to fiddle with his belt buckle. 

You give him no choice with the way you’re touching him, the way you’re looking at him when you pull back, all pleading eyes and parted mouth, but to resign all protest. He’ll give you the world, and if right now you want to use his body to blow off some steam, who is he to complain about it?

“Yeah baby, of course,” he breathes. “What do you need?”

You smirk at him audaciously, tongue smoothing over your teeth. “Need you to be loud,” you purr. Your voice is so innocent in juxtaposition to the words you spew. It sends a chill down the column of his spine. “Let them know who makes you feel good.” 

He nearly cums in his pants untouched, grasps at the fabric of your shirt with clumsy hands and nods. “Fuck, okay.”

His belt falls to the floor with a clang.

He lets you take control, then. Lets you mark him with your tongue and your teeth, lets you back him to the door with deft fingers working his shirt buttons open before sinking to your knees in front of him, freeing his hardening cock from the confines of his jeans and boxers.

It’s already weeping for you when you pull it out, precum beading at the tip. He’s so big, growing heavier in your hand with each passing second, and you lose yourself for a moment, hypnotized by him.

“Always so eager to please me, aren’t you, pretty girl?” Joel’s voice pulls you back to earth, soft and adoring.

“Louder,” you remind him. Plant a kiss right over top of his leaking slit.

“Fuck,” he hisses through his teeth. One of his hands flies to the crown of your head, anchoring himself with fingers in your hair. “Dirty fucking girl.” 

His voice fills the entranceway, confident and filthy. 

“Mmm,” you hum approvingly.

“Yeah? You want me to tell ‘em? Tell ‘em you’re making my cock drool for you? That nobody — shit-” You enclose your lips around his tip, suckling on it as your fingers wrap around the base of his length and you begin to stroke him lazily. “-that nobody has ever made me feel this good?” 

Footsteps echo down the hallway and the sound makes you reflexively pause, your hand stiling on Joel’s cock. It’s followed by the jingling of metal, the click of a key in a lock, the opening and closing of a door — all close enough that you can pinpoint the source, can tell where exactly it’s coming from. 

Sheila is home. 

Perfect.

It’s probably worrying how excited it makes you, the prospect of her hearing, of her sitting alone in her apartment, at her empty dining table, and listening to Joel fall apart at your hands. Maybe they’ve driven you to and over the edge of sanity with their words, her most of all. Regardless, you can’t help the way it makes your cunt flutter around nothing. 

You lick a slow stripe up the underside of Joel’s cock, starting just above his balls and dragging the flat of your tongue up, up, up to his tip. His breath shudders, his grip on your hair tightening, and the subtle sting at the center of your scalp gives you another idea. 

“Do you wanna fuck my face, Joel?” 

“Do I wanna — fuck — you’re gonna kill me, angel.” 

“Go ahead,” you encourage, unhinging your jaw as wide as it can go, letting your tongue droop over your bottom lip. 

Saliva pools in your waiting mouth and Joel groans at the sight of you, so malleable for him, begging to be used. 

“You sure?” 

It’s not that he doesn’t think you can handle it. He knows you can. You’ve taken him down your throat more times than he can count. Always so fucking eager to please him, you are — just one of the many reasons he feels so goddamn lucky, so infuriated that anyone would think otherwise. 

But still, he can’t help but worry that he’ll hurt you. 

You nod, eyes locked on him, confirming beyond a shadow of a doubt that you want this. He nods back, beginning to feed his cock into your mouth, easing it in slowly and halting when his head hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag.

You don’t pull away, don’t show any indication of displeasure. In fact, you dig your fingers into the meat of his thighs, bearing down on him as you push forward. Mascara tears stain your cheeks as you choke on him, laser-focused on relaxing your throat so that you can accommodate more of his length. 

Joel pulls back, retreating entirely before pushing in again. He slowly increases his pace, your eyes hooded, so doelike and innocent, as his cockhead bruises your larynx. 

The sounds he’s pulling from your mouth are absurdly lewd: muffled gags and frantic inhales of breath. And then there’s him, moaning wildly, not sure if he’d be able to shut up even if he needed to be quiet. Your mouth is good, too fucking good and he’s going to — fuck, he’s going to cum if you don’t stop. 

He pulls out abruptly, a string of drool and precum tethering the tip of his cock to your swollen bottom lip. You’re panting, coughing, still bracing yourself against his legs when you fucking smile up at him. 

“Christ,” he says. “Fuckin’ angel, you are. Mouth feels like goddamn heaven.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. But I need to cum in that perfect little cunt,” he breathes, pulling a strangled moan from the back of your rawed throat. 

He helps you up, spins you around to face the door. You brace both hands on the wood, humming as he pulls your pants down to your knees. His breath is on the back of your neck, trailing up to the shell of your ear with one whisper just for you, because he can’t help it. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?” 

You shiver, responding with a tilt of your head, inviting him in with a needy little mewl. He cradles your face in one of his large hands, the other rubbing over the curve of your ass as he kisses you passionately, tasting himself on your tongue.

The hand on your ass trails lower as he deepens the kiss, two fingers pressing against your clothed seam. You’ve all but soaked through the fabric, wet cotton molding to his knuckles as he caresses them along your pussy before pulling your panties down in one swift motion.

You whine into the kiss, desperate and dripping for him. “Please,” you breathe against his lips. “I’ll make you feel so good, I promise.”

“Know you will,” he coos, mouth parting from yours as he straightens out and lines himself up with your entrance. You arch your back, rocking onto the balls of your feet as he teases you with the tip.

His cock is so thick when it finally notches into you. It’s always so devastatingly thick, no matter how wet you are for him. The stretch stings, a jolt of warm pain coursing through your walls as he stills halfway in. 

“You okay?” he asks, one hand resting at the small of your back, the other on your hip, fingers gripping to you only tight enough to hold you in place.

“Yes, fuck — yes,” you whine. “Need you to fuck me, Joel.”

“I’m goin’ to baby, don’t worry,” 'he promises, pushing in another splitting inch. “Pussy’s so goddamn tight, ‘ts suckin’ me right in.”

It feels like hours pass with Joel’s cock motionless inside your aching cunt, his warm breath fanning across your back as he focuses on not cumming. You’re whimpering, begging under the weight of his body, to please just fucking move.

When he finally obliges you, pulling all the way out and then bottoming out in one deep thrust, it nearly punches the air out of your chest. You scrabble for purchase on the door, fingernails scraping against chipped paint. “F-uucckk,” you moan, eyes rolling back in your head as he sets a dizzying pace.

The sound of his balls slapping against the back of your thighs is enough to attract attention on its own, the loud smacksmacksmack going straight to your cunt. Joel growls behind you, driving into you even harder, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot. 

“Oh, shit,” you cry. Your pussy inadvertently squeezes him and he curses at your back, low and deep. 

“Not going to last if you keep doin’ that,” he warns. “Cunt is too fuckin’ good. Best I’ve ever — uuuhh — had.”

He’s not just saying it for show. It’s true. You know it is, too. He’s told you before, both under the influence of your pussy and not. Waited too many goddamn years to feel like this, he’d said once.

“It’s — fuck, it’s fine Joel,” you mutter. “I’m close too, just keep going, right there.”

A door across the hall creaks open. A pair of footsteps patter across tile. 

Do you hear that?  Yeah; what is that noise?

Joel laughs darkly behind you, snaps his hips up, forcing a guttural moan out of you. 

“Think they caught us, darlin’,” he says. “Caught you takin’ my cock like you’re fuckin’ made to.”

Oh my word!

Joel is unrelenting, pounding into you despite the voices right outside your apartment, and you fear for a moment that you’ve created a monster. One of his hands leaves its place on your waist, cracks down on the center of your asscheek with a slap, the flesh recoiling under his palm and you gasp. 

The feeling travels between your legs, straight to your neglected clit. It pulsates under the hood with every pass of Joel’s cock over your g-spot, and you feel yourself hurtling toward the edge dangerously fast. 

If these people don’t leave, they’re going to hear you cum. Do you want them to hear you cum? Yeah, you think, clit jumping again at the thought, I think I fucking do.

“Joel, fuck-”

“You gonna cum?” he goads. “Yeah, can feel you squeezin’ me — you’re gonna cum, aren’t ya?”

This is vulgar!  We should file a noise complaint. C’mon.

His hand snakes around your front then, finds your throbbing bud, and with a few passes of his calloused fingertips, you’re gone, vision whiting out and all noise around you muted. 

Joel keeps you upright between him and the door, his grip on you tightening as your muscles slacken. He follows closely behind, cumming inside you with a carnal noise from the back of his throat, rope after rope of his spend filling your cunt. 

He pulls out with a grunt, immediately collapsing on the floor. Without his support, you topple over too, falling onto his lap with a satiated giggle. 

A banging comes from the other side of the wall then, shaking your kitchen cabinets a few feet away, the clanging of glassware jolting you.

Keep it down next time! I don’t need to hear that!

And then you’re laughing like teenagers, Joel pulling you in for a sloppy kiss, all tongues and teeth. 

“Think they’re really gonna make a noise complaint?” Joel asks when you finally come up for air. 

“I dunno,” you smile. “Does your offer still stand — for me to move in with you?” 

“Always,” he vows, forehead resting against yours.

end notes: ty for reading! pls consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed <3

[resident-gay-bitch]

My Handsome Boy

ASK: "hi… it’s me again, sorry :) i was wondering if you could do eddie x ftm reader where the reader gets bullied by jason and jason says stuff like “she’s not even a real boy” or idk and it’s just eddie comforting the reader, thank you sm i love ur writing <;3" - @ilovejquinn

pairing: eddie munson x ftm!reader

summary: Jason Carver is a transphobic asshole who decides to openly attempt to humiliate you in the middle of school. no matter how low the jock makes you feel, Eddie’s always there to pick up the pieces. your number one supporter, right from the get go.

warnings: Transphobia, use of transphobic slurs (‘tranny’ & 'hermaphrodite’)

Reader Description: trans f to m, Y/N = your name, L/N = last name, D/N = dead name. 

The thing about Eddie is that he didn’t care about people’s differences. He was different himself. It’s why you initially took such a liking to him. It was way back in middle school, before you had even realised who you really were, when your hair still hung long, when you’d still put on pink shiny lip gloss in an attempt to fit in, when you still wore dresses and skirts everywhere you went. You remembered, it was right after the talent show, another student had just been booed off the stage for their ventriloquy act. You found it rather amusing, actually, but this kid had thick framed glasses, he was book smart, he always wore superhero shirts to school, and during his act he matched his outfit to his puppet and made jokes about sci-fi and fantasy books. The jocks didn’t like that. So they booed him off, none of them suffered any consequences of course. But you remembered, you were walking around the back of the school to your mum’s car, and you saw Eddie and his old buzz cut with a soft hand on the crying boy’s shoulder, his other hand cradling the puppet. You remembered over hearing what he had said when you walked past, 

“I loved the joke you made about The Hobbit man, I love those books so much. My uncle got me the hard backs for my birthday. Maybe you’d like to borrow them some time, if you don’t mind my drawings and little writings in the margins.” 

“You mean it?” The boy perked up.

“Hell yeah.” Eddie smiled. 

“You can borrow my director’s edition of the Starwars films sometime, if you like that stuff too.” 

“No way man! You have those?” Eddie grinned, “I’m jealous. How do you get this puppet to speak like you do? I think it’s really cool.” He tried to move its mouth with his hand. 

“It’s– it’s pretty stupid.” 

“No it’s not.” Eddie spoke with full sincerity, a wide smile spread across his face, “It looks really hard to do. You must have, like… magic or something to make it work. Are you a wizard or something?” 

You thought he must have been the sweetest boy alive, because you knew damn well that he didn’t even see that boys whole act. He was backstage himself, practising for his own set. His band got booed off stage that day too. Yet, no one comforted him. So the next day back at school, you fought down all your nerves and walked right up to him at lunch. His table went quiet, eyes all dead set on you. No one dared ever talk to them, they were the freaks… the outcasts. But deep down, you knew you were one too, and you didn’t want anyone to feel as alone as you did. 

“Uhm…” you started, and neither of them blinked, “I just wanted to say that… I– I thought your song was really cool yesterday. Did you write it?” 

Eddie laughed, he full on laughed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head, “Why don’t you just fuck off instead of making more fun of us?” 

“What?” your words caught in your throat, you didn’t understand why he was being so mean. 

“Your song was so cool.” he mimicked in a high pitched preppy voice, “We get it. Satan’s music. Whatever.” 

“No, I-” you swallowed the lump in your throat down, “I mean it… it’s not exactly my taste, but I still thought it was cool. Did you write it, or was it a cover? You said it was called Wicked World or something.” 

Eddie’s face turned red, “You– you mean it?” 

You just nodded. 

“Ye-” He cleared his throat, “We– It’s a cover. From Black– Black Sabbath.” 

You nodded, “I just wanted to tell you that someone thought it was cool.”

“Thanks.” He smiled sheepishly. 

“I like your guitar too… It looks so cool.” 

He beamed up at you, those big brown eyes looking deep into your soul, the slight pink in his cheeks. That’s when you knew you had a crush on him. 

You were invited into his friend group after that, and after a couple months, you finally felt like you belonged somewhere… like you fit in. It took you a few more years to figure out that you weren’t actually a girl. And the first person you told was Eddie. You were terrified. Absolutely the most scared you had ever felt in your entire life. The first thing he said to you, after you explained your situation to him, was something you never expected, 

“Do you want me to cut your hair? Or do you like it long, like mine?” 

You looked at him, awestruck. Not a single response comes to mind. 

“You want to look more like a boy, right? Or am I getting confused?” 

“No, I-” You shook your head in disbelief, “I do want to look like a boy- I am… I am a boy.” 

“Yeah.” He smiled, jumping to his feet, “If you want some boy clothes, you can have some of mine. Come on, let’s pick some out for you.” 

Once Eddie helped turn you into you, you decided to face your parents. Eddie right beside you as you did. Your father didn’t really understand, but he tried his best and respected your choices. He slipped up a lot, but you knew he was trying, and that was all that mattered. You mum however, needed a little more time to come around to the idea. She left to live with her friend for a while, but when she was ready to return, she handed you your first binder. Goodbye bandages! Thank You mum! 

You had your first kiss at seventeen. It was during a game of spin the bottle with Hellfire, plus a few stray outcasts from around the school that Jeff had invited along to his birthday party. The rules were simple, if it landed on the opposite gender, you had to kiss right there, if it landed on the same gender, you had to tell them a deep dark secret. When it was Eddie’s turn to spin, it landed on you. That struck a problem, no one really knew what to categorise you as. It hurt. 

“He’s a boy.” Eddie said in full confidence. 

“Yeah, but-”

“He’s a boy.” He smiled at you, standing on his feet and reaching his hand out to you, “Come on Y/N, I got the perfect secret to tell you.” 

It was really the bare minimum, but since Eddie was the only one to give you that, it made your heart soar. He took you around the corner, the designated secret sharing spot, and smiled at you softly. 

“You okay?” 

“I am now.” you smiled. 

“Good.”

“So, what’s your secret, Edward Munson? What have you been hiding from me?” 

“Well… I never thought I would tell anyone this… ever. But, since you told me the scariest thing about yourself, it’s only fair.” 

You nodded your head, smiling at him for assurance. 

“I’m–” He cleared his throat, “I’m gay.” 

Your eyes widened, your mouth hung slack for a moment. Your heart fucking skipped a beat. 

“Is that okay?” He looked at the ground instead of you. 

Obviously Eddie, you thought, “Why wouldn’t you be? Have you seen Robert Plant?” 

Eddie looked up at you, his head tipped slightly and he raised his eyebrows, “Yeah… yeah I’ve seen him. Are- do you see Robert Plant like that?”

You nodded your head with a soft smile, “So… you into anyone?”

He swallowed thickly, “Maybe.” 

You held your breath, “Who?���

Eddie looked back to the ground, his cheeks bright red, “Well… he’s really cool, he makes me smile a lot… he– he is super handsome, and probably likes my guitar more than me.” 

You couldn’t help the small smile that creeped onto your face, you bit your lip to hide it and shuffled in your spot a little. 

“Is that… okay?” He looked up at you slowly, “Do you mind?”

“Eddie,” you smiled softly, “are you that oblivious to the fact that I’ve had a crush on you since middle school?” 

Those perfect eyes stared right into yours, slightly alarmed, a little taken aback, but mostly burning with desire, “Apparently I am.” 

You laughed. 

“Can we totally fuck the rules of spin the bottle so I can kiss you anyway?” 

“When have the rules ever applied to us, Ed’s?” you smiled and pulled yourself a little closer. 

Since that night, Eddie would never leave your side. To everyone else in the world you were just a couple of inseparable best friends, and a couple of freaks. But to each other, you were everything. Behind closed doors you would hold each other close, and you’d kiss, and you let yourself fall in love. The only other person to know about the two of you was Wayne, because he picked up on everything. 

——————————————————————————

“Dude, no way.” you laughed, your voice deeper than usual, you had finally started on T a few weeks ago.

“Yes way.” Gareth smiled as you walked between classes, “I still can’t get over your voice man, it’s so weird.”

Your heart sank. 

“Not like that!” He was quick to say, “it’s just different. I’m used to your voice being higher, you know. It just catches me off guard.” 

A smile surfaced back to your face, “Yeah, I guess it surprises me sometimes too.” 

It was the first day back at school after spring break, no one but Eddie and his band members had been around you since your voice dropped. So it was safe to say you got a few weird looks here and there, a few odd questions about it Eddie was quick to answer for you whenever he was around. It felt good, to finally grow into yourself a little more, but the amount of attention it got you felt horrible. You felt like a walking target, bright blinking arrows pointed right at your head from every direction and honking noises came out of the ground with every step you took. You were just relieved no one had picked a fight with you yet. 

“L/N!” 

Yeah, I spoke too soon. 

“D/N L/N!” Jason Carver called out from across the hall. 

Only a small number of people called you by your real name. You were used to it, but it still cut like a knife, every goddamn time. 

“What?” you turned to him slowly. 

He laughed, “So it’s true. Your nonexistent balls finally dropped.” 

You rolled your eyes, “What’s it to you, Carver?” 

“Ohhh, someones feeling sassy today, isn’t she?” that wicked smirk on the corner of his lips dug deep into your soul. 

“He.” Gareth spoke up, correcting the jock.

“I hardly think so. She’s a fake. Not an ounce of man in her body.” 

“And you think there’s an ounce in yours?” you hummed. 

He glared at you, “Thats bold, coming from someone in your position, D/N.”

“Thats not my name.” 

“I. Don’t. Care.” he shook his head, a small chuckle erupting from his lungs, “Your still a freak. Who cares what the freak wants?” 

Your face started to heat. 

“Awh, look at that, the Tranny’s gonna cry.” 

You looked away, tears threatening to spill, “Fuck off, Jason. Don’t you have some balls to play with or something?” 

“Hey!” He snapped, learching closer till he was right in front of your face, “Don’t you dare speak to me with such disrespect, you piece of shit.” 

“Go away.” you whispered, eyes clamping shut as you tried to take a step back. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, “don’t want to risk catching the hermaphrodite disease.” 

He half laughed, half scoffed before walking back to his little parade of friends. Eddie came racing around the corner having heard about the previous interaction. He came to a screeching halt right in front of you, his hands landing on your biceps, his eyes scanning your red face, a certain tenderness in his expression that made your heart sink a little. 

“What did he say?” 

You couldn’t speak, you knew if you did you would only cry. He looked at Gareth who just slowly shook his head, sadness in his eyes. 

“Come on, we’re skipping.” He grabbed your hand, and took your books from you, leading you through the halls and out to his spot in the forest behind the school, “I got you, sweetheart. You’re safe with me.” 

You hurried along beside him, clutching onto his hand for dear life as you crossed the empty football field. When you arrived, he carefully sat you down on the picnic bench, pulling his jacket off and placing it down on the table before squatting down in front of you.

“You wanna tell me what happened? Or not yet?” his tone was soft, the gentle hum of his voice was the cushioning your heart so desperately needed. 

You looked at him, eyes glassy, your vision blurring as tears spilled out, “Am I a disease, Eddie?” 

“What the fuck?” a lump formed in his throat, “Did he say that to you?” 

You nodded. 

“No. no your not.” He grabbed your hands, “If you were, wouldn’t you think I would have caught it by now? You know… considering I’ve had my tongue down your throat and everything?” 

“Eddie!” You swatted his chest, a small laugh was shared between the two of you. 

“He kept calling me a girl.” you sighed, “Telling me I was fake and stuff. He made fun of my voice.” 

“Are you kidding me? How could he make fun of that?” He smiled, “It sounds so good already. Maybe he’s just jealous you sound more manly than him.” 

You half heartedly smiled, your hands still in his, tears still creeping their way down your cheeks. 

“You remember I only like dudes right? So if you were a girl, or a fake guy, there would be no way for me to love you, sweetheart.”

“But I don’t look like a boy.” 

“You do to me.” He smiled, “I think you are the most handsome boy I have ever seen… apart from maybe Robert Plant.” 

You bit your lip, how did he always make you laugh when you felt so glum like this? 

“It doesn’t matter what that fuckwad thinks. It doesn’t matter what any of them think, they’re all fucking losers. You, Y/N L/N are a boy, through and through, and I love you everyday because of it. Anyone who wants to disagree, doesn’t deserve to have you in their life. They don’t deserve to know such a beautiful person.” 

“You’re just saying that because you’re my boyfriend.” You sighed. 

“So fucking what?” He scoffed, shuffling a little closer, “Shouldn’t that make it more meaningful? The people that love you, and accept you… those people mean the most, right?”

You looked at your hands as you played with one of his rings, “I suppose.” 

“I promise you, Y/N, you’re not fake. You’re just as real as I am.” He smiled up at you softly, “Yeah, you might have had to take a few more steps to get there, yeah… the postage company sent a few wrong parts-” 

You laughed, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment and you took a breath. 

“But that’s okay. Because deep down inside, you are a boy. You always have been, and you always will be.” He pulled one of your hands tight to his chest, leaning down to press a soft kiss on your knuckles, “I hate that there will be some people- a lot of people, that arent gonna like it… but none of those people really matter. None of those people mean anything. Me, your parents, the guys… we will always love you, and accept you, and let you be who you really are because you matter, and you are valid, and you are real.” 

You took a shaky breath, more tears threatened to spill, but this time they weren’t tears of hurt, “You really think that?” 

“Sweetheart, I know that.” 

You shut your eyes softly, a small tear slipped from the corner, and then another, and then another. Eddie kissed your knuckles again, a swift hand came up to wipe at your tears. His hands cupped your face gently, the calloused pads of his thumbs brushed over the undersides of your eyes and the high of your cheeks, now wet with your tears. He whispered sweet hums of reassurance and shushs as he let you catch up to your emotions. 

“I really love you, Eddie.” you whispered. 

“I really love you too, my handsome boy.” He smiled so softly, you thought if you started at it too long you would break. 

[jackiezenauthor]

WIP questionaire (tag game)

self-tagged from @simonnebethel

I'll be using 'I only want a dragon' since it's the one I genuinely plan on publishing as soon as I finish writing and editing it.

What was the first part of your wip that you created? A personal vendetta erotic scene. More of a vent against a toxic romantic trope that I kept running into because of some ads. Wasn't planning to write the behemoth that it had since become, but guess what, I got curious about the characters, wrote it, so here we are... (+18 warning, also changed the names, if you're curious)

If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be? Speaking Japanese by Shiny Toy Guns the story has nothing to do with japanese but the song itself

Who are your favorite characters you've made? Why? Chase because he's an absolute ointment for the heart. Made him as a temporary aid, but he decided to stay, and I couldn't say no.... Maya because she's an absolute brat queen and I wish she'd play more of a part in the story because she has so much fun potential, but maybe in part 2.

What other pieces of media do you think would share a fanbase for your story? well, shifter romance for sure, because the whole story is influenced by my absolute love for the genre, although mine's a bit far from the standard itself... I expect monster f*ckers to enjoy it as well, although I don't actually have scenes of the kind, I think... anything more mainstream.... maybe Twilight fans? tbh, idk, I'll need to think a bit more about this... hmm...

What has been your biggest struggle while writing? Concluding an arch. Things keep staying too unresolved, I think I'll have to restart writing it all over again with the new lore discoveries integrated, maybe then we can reach a satisfying part 1 ending...

Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them! There are in the world, but not in the story per se. In the story, most of the characters can shift to different animals, so there's that, I guess.

How do your characters get around?(ex: trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.) Cars and motorbikes, but there are busses, planes and such. Plus the dragon shifters can put a few teleporters around the world, but only they and their people hoard can use those.

What part of your wip are you working on? mentally preparing to restart writing it all over for the 2nd time, but rn still exploring the after-major-event wrapping up.

What aspects (tropes, maybe?) of your wip do you think will draw people in? My friends are very into the worldbuilding and the crazy conspiracy behind it, but it's probably be the romance and erotica that'll draw the most attention, since that's what had me writing it to begin with XD

What are your hopes for your wip? honestly? It's gonna sound delulu af, but I hope ppl love the world I built so much that they start writing their own characters in it or even with the characters I already made myself. Might actually release full character sheets at some point, just to help. :)) Ah, and fanarts of any kind. I hope there'll be a lot of those too. Yeah, if people would have fun with my story I'd be absolutely delighted.

Tagging @whatwewrotepodcast @moonandris @laurasimonsdaughter and anyone else who wants to give this a go

[salty-dracon]

genshin impact 4.0, or as i like to call it, fantasy tears of themis ft. lifeweaver overwatch/kale vandelay hfr/mael stronghart tgaac/idk but people are drawing him with that specific kind of face and i love it

liveblog begins now

Get Out Of India And Get Your Ass To France!

People can find my previous liveblog and livetweets for what I think of the Sumeru section. I thought it was great, I loved the heist scene, but *grumbles in desi* you know how one of the most popular (and thirsted after) characters in the west right now is a DARK SKINNED INDIAN SPIDERMAN-

Paimon lore...she got tired, fell in a whirlpool, and got sucked out to sea...

sus.

... Niagara Falls...... somehow geographically across from a desert.... which also ends in a big cliff...

welcome to fontaine. literally just french for "fountain". Looks like any steampunk city but with more blue and stars. God I miss Arcane: A League of Legends story.

Neuvilette. That's the Mael Stronghart looking guy's name.

Lyney and Lynette. They're uh. little guys

we're just normal men.

CAITLYN KIRAMANN ARCANE?!

... Is this Fischl's VA? Has the same smug aura. Also, why are her eyes two different colors? Is she tainted by the Abyss or a Schneznayan puppet or something?

I'm not writing all that down Furina but I don't fuck with celebrities. I only fuck with gods.

She's so grand I hate it.

Tears of Themis 🤝 Genshin Impact Fontaine

I'm too poor and ugly for this shit

FIGHTING GODS?! BITCH I'VE GOT A RESUME

..... what the fuck is happening in this place. first god wants to beat me up, then god wants to battle me in court ace attorney - er, tears of themis style, while the rabble are saying that god-slayer traveler's DUEL would be boring while a COURT battle would be more exciting..... and now there are weird laws

that's not called being absolved of sin that's called climate change

why would you build boats that function like subway trains on giant aqueducts when you could just... make bridges with... okay I guess depending on how you do it, having aqueducts instead of roads could be pretty fast in a world without cars

How many little siblings does this guy HAVE

How many dragons is that now? There was Dvalin, Durin, Ahzdaha, the one Raiden killed, and now the Hydro one. Was there a Dendro one?

You'd think that a HYDRO city would have some kind of STEAM POWER

I love cute engineer girls! Damn, she's just an NPC.

... wh. YOU'RE A GOD OF WATER IN A STEAMPUNK CITY JUST USE HYDRO POWER TURBINES

nothing like getting the Italian mafia to beat up the French mafia

sorry to this guy who has now voiced characters in two games where his fantastic voice work is badly complimented by piss poor lip sync (swank from rain code)

Oh shit are we going to ace attorney childe? that would be really funny. he'd be such an ace attorney witness too

traveler: childe, why are you in fontaine?

childe: depression arc

So these little humanoid dog creatures are "Melusine".

Friends with benefits (the benefits are knowing all their siblings and also theater tickets)

There he is. Mr. Justice man.

Neuvilette: I think she wants you to look at her.

Paimon: Yeah, sure...

Furina: Hehehe~

Traveler: *holds up middle finger at Furina*

Oh he's literally Mael Stronghart

Lyney's VA is pulling out all the stops for this stage magician cutscene

A "bang" right in the middle of a magic show?? For sure we're going to be Ace Attorneying this chapter.

OH YEAH. OH YEAH THATS A CLEAR CASE OF SOMEONE USING STAGE MAGIC TO MURDER LIKE IN DRV3 OR AA6

Paimon puts on Groucho Goggles while quoting Sherlock Holmes. Fun...

Waiting for Rosa Tears of Themis to get isekaid to this universe with a random boy. Because I like Rosa and she's cute. And never alone.

So Lyney's rope was replaced with a flammable one. That explains the murder method, But how did Lyney switch places with Carrow, and where did Halsey disappear to?

Navia, a mob boss. Or a detective. Not sure which.

There's honestly no way they didn't take at least a LITTLE inspiration from Arcane because that's the only steampunk setting I can think of where little furry guys are common. Pookas are in Odin Sphere, but that story isn't exactly steampunk... Well, it is. And supposedly Neuvilette is the only male one.

That's how the trick itself was performed. The audience member basically got put on a giant rotating, moving elevator. So in the middle of it, someone must have hijacked the trick. They forced Halsey out and Cowell in, then escaped with Halsey.

... Lyney didn't hear the thud? How? Why?!

THEY'RE FATUI?!

It literally is the most Ace Attorney sort of thing to ask the judge for a brief recess and then talk with your client who immediately admits to being a Russian spy whose excuse for not being present during a murder scene was that he was doing spy things

yeah I was thinking, it had to be someone from the crew. how else do you tamper with the random number generator and the rope? but the real question is how did he become a victim of his own scene after the fact?

what

this is entirely out of left field. they should have gotten one of the tears of themis writers on this one.

girl your drink was spiked

yeah that was what I was thinking too. the disappeared people are being dissolved and ending up in the fountain somehow

oceanid!

aether: bye pretty oceanid! I'll find your lover for you- OH GOD THERE'S ROBOTS

... Did they honestly watch Arcane and get nothing from it? Looks like they tried to recreate Zaun and missed the fact that Zaun isn't run by women in big hats

girl...

I'm just bored throughout this entire investigation segment and then I learn that the Italian Mafia got arrested for water crimes

We're unwatering the water crimes

I was also wondering if vacher was the one who murdered the oceanid. yeah it was. and looks like we hunted down the mastermind of one piece of the murder plot

sometimes I fear that the gimmick for AA7's prosecutor will be a robot and this is why. at least we get to see the guy go ham again

Oh yeah that guy's girlfriend is in the place where all water flows to, Doyha District the fountain.

... Imagine you're a baliff, and you're at court, and the defendant wants to see his wife who has dissolved into a fountain, and the chief justice helps him, and so the chief justice takes him to the fountain, and then five minutes later the chief justice comes back and says he stuck his face in the fountain and drowned

[hypnosiacon-archive]

Hsksgwkwgka yeah, its 100% not a nice expirience but the aesthetic of it is just *chefs kiss* i need to draw what i see when in trance cause its like, its a big infiniti forest with only trees, pine trees and normal trees, everything is in black pallets and dif shades of black, that contrasts with the neon yellow cyan and magenta river that leads you towards a lake where you can find The Hypnotists and it doesnt matter if you follow the flow of the river or not, you will always find the lake at the end of it

(Would lobe to hear about that medical stuff if you ever want to talk about that 👀 /nf)

@gender-mailman

Oh holy shit the river sounds like a gender to me. The vibes are just awfully good fl;kdsl;ag. Plus the concept of places that always lead to one place no matter where you go is also fucking good. What the hell f;lkd;lgskdgo;pd

So about that medical stuff. We have medical field that specializes on memory and processor core (brain in like... personality and stuff). And there's like a billion of things that can go wrong.

First is that mnemosurgeons are awfully aware of their own end, which is holy shit dude. Plus when they examine last memories of what happened to the dead one - they experience pain, and the worse death the more painful the reading is.

Second is that cerebrosurgeons are able to fucking use their abilities to actually perform shadow play. One time they managed to delete EVERY piece of emotions to one bot, who then almost FUCKING KILLED THE UNIVERSE?? Plus they had a huge institution underground, and offered body exchanges (like oh you don't like being a car? how about we change you into a plane? but with usage of other donator HUH?) Which is cool and all, but like, if you are a car you can't control a plane properly if at all. Also I think it's they managed to break my sweet co-host (character idk) to make him such a mess.

Third is actually my own experience with one mnemosurgeon. This bastard became a serial killer and started to eat everyones memories just by looking at them without these needle-finger-things that other's use. He literally controlled everyone he saw, that when he was caught he made that every single guard on that ship forgot to close the door. Then I trained him like a dog, because he doesn't use his eyes for that extraction oh noo, he's just able to access memories just by existing. And that wasn't very... great for me as I am now his hostage. So i trained him to think that he needs his eyes to read other's processors, while using his eyes to get better at my own job in an exchange of feeding random people to him.

And one time when I got to that, I actually got into his way (someone pushed me we don't talk about that) and he turned me inside out. Ouch? Yes, THAT WAS THE MOST PAINFUL THING A BOT CAN EXPERIENCE. How he did that? Well... He forces your brain to think that transformation is the best defense mechanism, but also makes you FORGET how to transform, which in turn... turns you inside out into a ball... Thought it can be repaired I swear this is traumatic and painful as fuck.

I think I had something else to say about that, but alright. You see how cerebro- and mnemo- surgeons are very personal to me? And now you see how they are very torture, gore and mental pain and whatnot.

[writteninkat]

Angel | Toji x reader

summary: "Aren't you supposed to be an angel for this party?" He asks, thumb moving up your slit, pressing circles on your clit as you throw your head back, letting out a moan. "Y-yeah, I am."

"Then why the fuck do you look like the epitome of sin right now?" He growls, pressing his thumb against your wet panties, making your back arch in pleasure.

F!reader

word count: 4.1k

warnings: age gap (reader is 21, Toji is idk 40???lol), sexual content, name calling, much cursing

Author's note: i spent a good 3 hours writing this nonstop, i hope you guys like it (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

Megumi Fushiguro is not a fan of parties, and the fact that you managed to convince him to attend Nobara's small get together has everybody bowing their heads to you.

While waiting for your best friend to call, you start getting ready yourself. You throw on a short white dress with silver straps and white ankle strap heels. A silver-diamond choker is wrapped around your neck as well as hoop silver earrings piercing your ears. You finish off the look with light natural make up and white angel wings.

By the time you finished, thirty minutes had passed and you're still not getting a text from your best friend. You try calling him, but to no avail.

"This asshole forgot, didn't he?" You mumble to yourself, sighing loudly as you walk yourself out your room. Your parents are out of town right now so the only people left in your house are you and the maid. Well, now that you've snuck out the window of your bedroom it's only the maid left inside the house.

The Fushiguro residence isn't really far from where you live, so you decide to take a quick stroll, tapoing and scrolling away through your phone as you do so. Once you arrive, you knock on the door, patiently waiting for someone to open.

And oh, dear god, does someone open.

"Hello, Mr. Fushiguro. Is Megumi ready?" You ask with the sweetest voice you can muster. You look up at the man who has an expressionless face on, looking down at you. "Isn't the guy supposed to be knocking on your door? Why's it the other way around?" He asks, stepping aside to let you in.

"Mr. Fushiguro, you can make jokes too," you chuckle, stepping inside the house. "I don't really mind. And I was the one who forced Megumi to go."

The man walks past you and you follow him, leading to the kitchen where he's taking an empty glass from the high cupboards and filling them with water. "My son went out a while ago wearing a purple and green suit." He places the glass in front of you, and with a stoic face, he continues talking. "It looked horrendous, I almost out him up for adoption."

You begin laughing loudly, imagining Toji's expression when he saw Megumi walking down the stairs with an ugly suit on. "Ah!" You yell, wiping away a tear, "He told me he planned to go as the joker. I'm guessing he's currently getting his make up done. Did he leave a while ago?" You ask, taking a sip of your water as you look at him in the eye.

"You just missed him, actually. He left maybe about five minutes before you arrived."

You make a soft 'tch' sound as you tilt your head to the side, continuing to drink your water. You set the empty glass down and before you could say another word, your phone rings on the counter.

You check the contact, smiling softly. "Hey, you. I'm here at your house right now." You say into the phone, drawing shapes with your finger on the counter. "Yeah, sorry. Had to go get my make up done. I'll be finished in half an hour, you should wait there for me. I'll be taking my dad's car." Megumi says into the phone, the mention of the older man's name making you look up.

Toji isn't looking at you anymore, now his back is turned towards you as he washes the dishes left in the sink. You know it's wrong to think this way when Megumi's your best friend, and especially because the man can be the same age as your father, but you couldn't miss how good his back muscles look under the tight shirt.

The black top he has on right now hugs his figure so sexily, you find yourself biting on your lower lip. How many years has it been since you last saw Toji Fushiguro? Was it back in middle school, when Megumi helped you with math? Then it would be 7 years ago.

The man was busy as hell so you only ever got to see glimpse of him, but now that you get to see him again properly, you can't help but notice just how attractive the man is.

His beefy arms, wide back, tall figure... Everything about him has you sinning as you sit on his chair.

"I can feel your eyes on me." He speaks up, snapping you out of your trance. You hear him turn off the faucet and bend over to dry his hands with the kitchen towel. Toji turns around, looking at you with a demanding look. "Got something to say?"

"Nothing, just that now I know where Megumi got his good looks from."

You know that moment when your mouth works faster than your brain? Where you begin talking without even thinking about it or realising it? Yeah, this is an example of those kinds of moments.

You flush as you realise what you had just said, heat creeping into your face as you deop your gaze to the marble counter, hoping a curse would appear suddenly on it and eat your head.

What Toji Fushiguro does next catches you off guard. He laughs. You look at him with a raised brow, confusion evident on your face. "Guess I'm not the only one who knows how to make jokes now, am I?" He asks, his smile looking so flirty as he slowly walks up to you.

You turn your chair to the side, facing him completely as you look into his eyes. "Who said I was joking?" You tilt your head to the side. Mouth working faster than your brain part 2.

The amused glint in Toji's eyes disappear within a second and at first you thought maybe you'd crossed a line, but you see him scanning your body from head to toe, and then back up. As his gaze lands on your legs, you can't help but slowly separate them, your dress riding up your thighs even higher.

"You're classmates with my son." He looks up at you. "You're also his best friend, I shouldn't do this, not to him."

At that moment, something possess you, something controls you to hook your fingers in the man's pants, pulling him closer. "You shouldn't, but you want to. Don't you, Mr. Fushiguro?" You tilt your head to the side innocently.

He places a hand on the counter, leaning in so close that you can feel his hot breath on your lips. "You're playing a dangerous game, little girl." He mutters.

"Maybe if you taught me how to play it, it wouldn't be so dangerous." You bring your hand up to his face, fingers ghosting over his lips, teasing him. He narrows his eyes, looking down at your lips one last time before opening his mouth and taking the tip of your index finger in between his teeth, eyes looking deep into yours as he does so. You suck in a breath, teeth catching your bottom lip as you feel your cunt become hot and wet because of him.

"Didn't you just turn just turn 21 a week ago?" You nod at his wuestion, not trusting your lips at all after feeling how slippery your folds currently are. "Then you wouldn't mind if I gave you your late birthday gift, huh?" He smirks and before you could even ask what he meant, he closes the distance between the two of you, lips on yours and as soon as you know it, his hands are on either side of your hips, gripping on them tightly.

Your hands fly to his neck and head, pulling him closer. Your fingers comb through his midnight black hair, tugging on it softly as you open your mouth with a moan, welcoming his hot tongue into your wet cavern. You can taste the whiskey on him as you suck on his wet muscle, moaning loudly when his hands begin traveling down your thighs, giving them a soft squeeze before sliding to your inner thighs.

He pushes your thighs apart, letting your dress ride up even more. You damp white laced panties are in display right infront of him, making you blush. No matter how turned on you are right now, the fact that he's watching as your panties become even more damp by the secnd has you covering your face.

"Aren't you supposed to be an angel for this party?" He asks, thumb moving up your slit, pressing circles on your clit as you throw your head back, letting out a moan. "Y-yeah, I am."

"Then why the fuck do you look like the epitome of sin right now?" He growls, pressing his thumb against your wet panties, making your back arch in pleasure.

"Please, Mr. Fushiguro." You moan out, your hips beginning to move on their own, rubbing your needy cunt against gis hand. He chuckles darkly, one corner of his lips tugging into a smirk. "Do you know how dirty you sound right now, girl? Rubbing your wet pussy against my hand like that..."

He begins massaging your clit, your hands squeezing a fistful of his hair as your legs slowly lift yo on his hips, slowly wrapping themselves around the tall man in front of you. "Mmmhh, you like my fingers that much, slut?" You moan out loud at the nickname, nodding your head as your eyes roll to the back of your head at the feeling of being touched with such big and thick fingers.

Suddenly, he pulls his hand from your dripping cunt and grabs you by the waist, effortlessly carrying you on the counter so the both of you are in face level with each other. He presses his lips against yours again, but this time, he's much more aggressive. His hands travel up your sides, cupping your nape to pull you closer to him.

Your hands busy themselves by touching all over his torso; his hard chest has giving into him more and more. Your white dress has now been pulled up, showing off your tiny white laced panties that don't cover your ass at all and barely give any coverage for your front.

Toji's fingers hook on the straps of your dress, pulling them down to reveal your breasts. "No bra underneath? Were you planning on being fucked tonight, you slut?" He growls onto your lips, making you whimper when his fingers pinch your hardened bud. His other hand begins massaging your other breasts, making you moan louder. "Oh, oh God, fuck Mr. Fushiguro!" You moan out, arching your back to bring your breasts closer to him. "Toji." He says, making you look at him with confusion lacing your expression. "Call me Toji." He says, leaning over to press his lips kn your neck, biting and nipping at the soft skin. "Mmhh- Toji- More!" You pull yourself closer towards him, wanting to put friction on your needy cunt. "Ah, so impatient." Toji growls, pushing you down on the counter. He pins your hands above your head as he continues to explore all over your body, every curve, every inch, every part of your skin is being toched by his roaming hand.

"You're such a needy slut, you know that?" He says, pulling your panties down, his fingers finally coming in contact with your naked cunt. "Oh, yes, just like that!" You moan out, the feeling of his fingers slowly entering your folds has fireworks exploding inside your stomach.

"So wet," he breathes out, pressing his lips against you. "So fucking wet for me, aren't ya?" He begins thrusting his fingers inside and out your dripping cunt, easily sliding them due to how wet you are with your own slick. His fingers pull apart from each other, following how scissors move, loosening you up.

"Put your cock in already..." You whine impatiently, your hips rocking along with the pace of his fingers. "No can do, angel. I don't have a condom. Wouldn't want you grtting pregnant now, do we?" He smirks at you, his mouth saying he doesn't want to but his eyes saying the complete opposite.

In truth he wants to take you raw, he wants to fill you up with his seed so bad and watch life you two made grow inside you bigger and bigger, but we can't all get what we want.

You sigh impatiently, pulling your hands apart, forcing him to let you go. You take your phone from beside you, opening your case and slipping in your fingers inside it to take out a single piece of condom. "How about now?"

Toji places his free hand on his forehead, laughing lightly. When he pulls his hand away, his eyes has you clenching hardky around his fingers. "You'll make me go insane one of these days." He says, taking the pack of condom from your fingers with his teeth. He takes his fingers out of your wet cunt, a whine leaving your lips as he does so.

He pushes his pants down along with his boxers, his hard cock springing out.

Your eyes widen and your mouth is left ajar at the sight of his cock. It's big, so big, so fucking big that you gulp. Your eyes look over at the condom in concern, "Y-you're so... I don't... The condom's too small, I think." Your words jumble up in your mouth but you can't find it in yourself to be embarrassed. The thing is huge and the size you bought was a mere large. He was at least a double XL.

"Hmm, you're right. It'll be pretty tight for me," He uses one hand to rip the condom open, rolling it onto his cock. The white color is almost transparent once he finishes rolling it. "but I'll be able to feel your insides more." He presses his lips on your chest and neck, bringing your hands back up above your head and pinning them there.

"Take a deep breath for me, angel." Toji whispers in your ear and you follow his directions immediately, feeling the head of his cock pushing against your slick-covered pussy.

Toji grunts as his cock begins to enter your wet cunt, his hand squeezing your small wrists together as you arch your back at the feeling. "Full..." You mumble out, "so full, Toji! You make me feel so full!" Your voice echoes throught the quiet house.

"Calm down, I'm still half way through."

You open your eyes and furrow your eye brows in confusion. "Hold on, you're still half way-"

He thrusts his hips up, burying his entire length inside you. The action has your eyes going watery and your lips forming an 'O'. Your voice comes out as a shaky trmbling moan as your toes curl from the feeling. You can feel him, inside your stomach. He's so big, he's so fucking big.

You cum.

His yes widen in realization, "Did you just-"

Tingles litter your entire body as he waits for you to adjust to his size, to get used to him. You don't think that will be happening any time soon. "M-move..." You whispers into his ear.

"You're still so tight, are you sure-"

You cut him off, pressing your lips on his, sucking on his lower lip as you catch it in between your lips, pulling on it. Your hips weakly move, trying to get any kind of friction while he's inside you. "Please, I want you, Toji..." You whimper, "Make me cum on your cock a second time."

Toji's eyes darken a shade, his hips quickly pulling away before suddenly thrusting forward, hitting your G spot almost immediately. You eyes roll to the back of your head, pulling his head to your neck, letting him nip and bite hickeys all over your soft skin.

Toji's thrusts become more consistent, so fast, so hard and so deep, he has you seeing stars. His hands find their way back to your breasts, fondling and massaging them while he busys his mouth with yours.

You can feel him getting closer to his high, his breathing becomes more ragged and thrusts become more sloppy and deeper. He lets go of your hands, "Keep them above your head or you don't get to cum." he says before his hands fall to your hips.

He looks at you with such a dark gaze and a forbidding smile before gripping on your waist tightly and pulling your body towards his, slamming you on his cock. "Oh you'll cum for a second time, alright. I'll make you cum a second," he thrusts harder, "a third," the tip of his cock abuses your G spot consecutively, "maybe even a fourth?"

"Oh, God!" You yell out loud, looking for something to grip on above you, anything. Toji fucks you by thrusting his hips ever so quickly and roughly while his hands pull your body to his, causing your bum to constantly press against his sac.

"Fuck, fuck! Toji!" You yell, your body curling to one side as you feel an orgasm coming fast, your toes curling as you focus on his cock, his huge fucking cock that just loces to abuse your small hole.

Your orgasm washes over you, your body resonating around the house as your breathing trembles slightly. "We're not finished." Toji growls, taking your arms from above your head. He pulls you to sit up, your current state being in a slight daze from the intense orgasm causing you to be half aware of your surroundings.

"Toji..." You mumble, feeling yourself being hoisted and flipped around by your waist. Your front presses on the warm marble as a hand wraps itself around your nape, keeping your torso down on the counter. "We'll finish when I cum, angel. Wake up." He slaps your ass hard, causing you to jump, waking up from your state. "Wanna back down now? Just say the word and my hands will be off of you." His voice is teasing and you can feel his hand wandering down your as, squeezing it.

"Well, angel? What do you say?" He asks, his mouth against the shell of your ear. You look to the side, not caring about your fucked up expression; teary eyes, flushed face and swollen lips. "Fuck me. Hard." You breathe out, making Toji growl. "You get what you ask for, angel." He pounds into you relentlessly, your arms starting to hurt from all the tugging and pulling he's been having but the pleasurable feeling of your pussy being anused overwhelms the feeling, causing you to cry out a moan. "Oh, you're such a slut, aren't you? Dressed up like an angel but your habits are that of a devil." He growls into your ear, "What a fucking joke."

His thrusts become faster, you can feel him nearing the high he didn't get to resch a while ago once again, as his grunts match his thrusts, you wait for him to start cumming. You want to cum with him, so you hold in your pending orgasm, waiting for his cock to start stirring. Before you could feel anything, he thrusts himself deep inside you that you can feel his pelvis against your ass. He leans forward, letting go of your hands and creeping his now free hand underneath your belly. He presses on something which has you yelling out your moans, your orgasm hitting you hard as your pussy clenches around his cock. Your thighs begin to shake and lose their strength when you start calming down, wondering what the hell he pressed to have you cumming hard like that.

As if he read your brain, he pulls you up. "Look here, angel." You follow his gaze where his hand rests. It's on top of a bump on your belly, an unusual one you don't see every day. What the hell?

"Can you see it? Can you feel it? My cock's so deep inside you it's pressing against your tummy." Your eyes widen as he chuckles deeply, pressing on where his cock is making you throw your head back.

"Ah-ah-ah, angel. I think I'm close, let's do one last round, shall we?" You whimper, feeling him leave your hole and turn you around. He lifts you up by your thighs, your legs immediately wrapping themselves around his waist for support. He enters your hole once more, feeling how it's shaped like him already.

"Y/n-" he's cut off when your phone starts ringing. You check up on it, and see that it's Megumi. You turn back to Toji, ignoring the call as you press your lips on his.

"Aren't you getting that?" Toji asks, eyeing the phone.

"I'll just call him back." You shake your head, pressing your lips once more. A glint of mischief sparks in Toji's eye as he leans over to grab the phone, tapping on 'answer' and pressing speaker mode.

You clamp your hand on your kouth just in time, suppressing your moan. "Hey, Y/n, I just finished with my make up. I'm heading there right now." You hear Megumi say as you look at Toji with wide eyes and a baffled look. Toji simply looks at the phone and then back at you, expecting you to answer.

"H-hey, Megumi-" You press your lips together as you muffle a moan. Toji moves his hips slowly, his tip once again hitting your abused G spot continuously. "Yeah, j-just- just take your time, no need to hurry." You throw your head back as you feel an orgasm slowly creep up to you.

"By the way, Y/n, I'm sorry you had to wait in the house with my dad. Must be awkward for you since the two of you aren't close."

Toji rolls his hips, making you bite on your finger, feeling so full for him. "Y/n? You still there?" You snap out of your state, forcing yourselfnto focus on talking with your best friend. "Yeah- it's okay. Your dad and I are-" you bite on your lip to stop a moan, feeling uour orgasm hit it's highest peak. "-just talking and sharing stories. I'm fine here, just take your time okay? Bye."

"Wait, y/n-"

You end the call, tossing the phone behind you on the counter as you wrap your arms around Toji's neck, letting him thrust deeply inside you as he carries you. His grunts and short moans match the pace of his thrusts, he presses your foreheads together. "I'm close, fuck, y/n." He moans out.

You dig your nails onto the skin of his thick arm, bouncing on his cock, watching as your boobs bounce at the movement. Toji squeezes his eyes shut and his brows furrow and with one last thrust, he cums inside the condom. You feel the hot liquid inside you causing the knot in your stomach to undo.

The both of you ride each other's orgasm before finally calming down. The kitchen is nothing but deep breaths and panting. "You feel so good, angel." Toji mumbles.

You chuckle, "So good that you wanna fuck me again?"

Before he could even reply, the both of you hear the front door open. In a flash, you're pulling the straps of your dress up and the bottom part of your dress down, walking over to the other side of the counter to grab some kitchen towels. You begin to wipe your inner thighs with the kitchen towel, Toji slides you a concealer tube and you raise a brow, silently asking where and how he got it. He dodges the question, "I'll go stall him for a bit."

You let it slide, deciding to save it your questions for another time, quickly applying the cream all over where the red-turning-purple spots are, furrowing your brows when you notice something's missing.

"Hey, Y/n, ready to go?" Megumi shows up in front of the both of you, his joker make up and hair on point and the suit he's wearing exactly as Toji said; horrendous.

"Yeah, let me drink one last glass first before we go. All that talking with your dad had my throat drying." You try to pass it off as a joke, not missing how your hand trembles, still unable to get over from the event that just took place.

You pour yourself a glass and drink it up, racking your barin to think of whatever was bothering you. Something was missing but you were unsure what it was.

You turn around, deciding to leave it be for now. "Let's go." You offer Megumi a smile, taking his extended hand and walking towards the front door.

"Both of you have fun. Megumi, make sure to take y/n home." Toji reminds and Megumi waves his father off, facing towards the car as he unlocks it. You turn back to him, smiling softly. "Good night, Mr. Fushiguro."

Toji smirks, raising his hand. Your smile drops and your eyes widen, now remembering what you've been missing. Your underwear hangs over his fingers as he waves at you.

"Good night to you too, Y/n. Hope we see each other again."

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[whaleofatjme1920]

Oh god please, more cheating and angst (hoodie? Tim? 👀👀👀) Idk u just write it so good and my aching heart feels better oddly because of it. I fuckn love angst djsjsjjdjdjd

Full Moon and Being A Horrible Person

[Masky X F!Reader]

[Warnings: language, physical cheating]

[AN: i love angst too]

The full moon makes us do weird things, it’s been well documented. From the people bouncing off the walls to inducing labor, all the way to making us make questionable decisions, the full moon is to blame, not him.

It was a full moon when he caught the eyes of a woman with dark, sweet chocolate colored eyes. She looked so beautiful under the lights of the bar, yellow illuminating her skin like it was gold.

She’d been flirting with him across the bar the entire night. Wry smiles, tapping her fingernails against the glass, twirling her dark hair and giggling when he caught her eyes and by extension, her attention.

“You know Reader isn’t gonna be happy with your behavior,” Hoodie had lightly chided him before downing more of his beer. “Why don’t you let me take over? I haven’t-”

“No,” Tim laughed, pushing at his best friend’s shoulder. “It’s harmless flirting,” he finished, watching Hoodie’s expression from the corner of his eye.

“If Reader was doing this, would you consider it harmless flirting?”

Kate excused herself from her conversation with one of the ladies from the booth behind the table she and her group shared, then turned her attention to her group leader. “He has a point,” she said, grinning when Hoodie leaned over the table to high-five her.

Tim rolled his eyes and began to lazily swish his drink. “It’s nothing, I promise.”

“You mean to say you haven’t emptied your balls in a few weeks and you’re desperate,” Hoodie deadpans, breaking his blank expression when Kate loudly laughs.

“Again, he has a point,” Kate smirked. “C’mon, let Hoodie or Toby take this one. Neither of them are in relationships and are less likely to get attached.”

Tim raises a brow at Kate. “Attached? What does that mean?”

Hoodie shares a look with the woman across from him who nods at him to explain what exactly she means. “She uh,” Hoodie awkwardly sips at his beer before biting the bullet completely. “C’mon man, you have an addictive personality. Pills, cigarettes, Reader…” He trails off before Tim hisses and punches Hoodie’s shoulder, roughly. Hoodie only barks a laugh and raises his hand up in submission. “I’m right, I’m always right!” He manages to choke out through remaining giggles.

“Can we just drop it for now?” Tim growls.

Kate rolls her eyes and then pulls a face to Hoodie, who stifles his laughter just barely before she turns back to her conversation with the ladies from the booth behind her. She’s up and out of her seat following a group of them to the other side of the bar, giggling and laughing as a woman with short pink hair holds her hand and weaves her through the crowds.

Hoodie feigns innocence before standing up. “I’m gonna find Tobes, who knows what he’s doing. Tearing up the dance floor, maybe?”

Tim watches as his best friend shuffles out from his seat, beer still in hand as he disappears into the sea of people. He sighs and crosses his arms over his chest. His dark eyes scan the bustling room full of bright, rainbow colored strobe lights and too loud music only to catch a glimpse of the full moon outside. It’s tinged pink, and seems to blossom the longer he looks at it. Due to where they’re currently at in the city, he can’t see the stars - much too much light pollution. A sigh is about to escape his lips when he feels a hand brushing over his, pulling him from the light of the full moon and onto the woman he’d been flirting quietly with all night.

“Never thought I’d get you alone,” she says, voice sweet like honey and smoother than silk.

Tim thinks about his words, his group’s chiding before mentally shrugging off all responsibilities. “I know, right?” He replies, voice low and deep, something charming and sweet.

She grins like the Cheshire Cat before playfully biting her lip. “I’m just passing through here,” she begins, “maybe we could… Have a few more drinks then head back to my hotel room?”

Tim feels a slight blush come to his cheeks before swallowing it back down. He smirks, leaning into her presence. “I’d love nothing more.”

The two of them knock back a few more drinks, the woman mostly choosing fruity things and Tim sticking to whiskey. Their touches become more and more bold, and their words more lusty and obscene by the moment. He has her sit on his lap and he whispers all the nasty things he wants to do to her and she gobbles it up, giggles and soft licks to the shell of his ear driving him up a wall.

And then, he follows her to her hotel. It’s a tangle of lips smashing against lips, hearts beating in sync and hands grabbing in the most inappropriate of places. Her clothes lie on the floor before getting covered up by his, her body following in suit.

Tim takes her. He drinks her in full and has her seeing the stars that were once only gazed upon by you. He touches her in ways you’ve never been touched and allows her to touch him in ways he’d always claimed were ‘too much’ for him.

When the deed is done, he’s cuddling her much like he would cuddle you, cigarette in his mouth and bliss on his face.

Tim stayed the night.

The next morning, he’s so groggy that he doesn’t even realize he’s still got her lipstick stains on his skin. He gets back in his car (failing to realize his group had to either walk back to the temp or hitch with someone else), and heads back to the only true home he’d ever considered.

It’s a few hours to your place, but he makes it, and that’s all that matters. Your car isn’t in the driveway, so he lets himself in. A quiet stumble to the bathroom and he sees he looks like a mess. The weight of what he did to you begins to sink in.

Tim turns the shower on and strips off his clothing - the clothes still linger with her perfume before he hops in and begins to furiously scrub at his skin. Tears well in his eyes. How could he do that to you? What kind of common sense was he lacking in that moment?

He continues to scrub, slowly coming to the realization that he’s going to do whatever it takes to hide this from you - you can never know. It was the light of the full moon, people always act crazy when the moon is in that phase, and he was drunk, like really drunk.

Excuses, excuses.

The water stops right when he hears the front door open. He hears your voice. You’re greeting him sweetly, like you always do.

He takes in a deep breath. You can never know.

It was only inevitable that you’d find out, though he’s surprised you went as long as you did without knowing. Tim hid it from you for months, and he probably could’ve kept it longer if he didn’t come with you to Target when you asked. You’d always been a fan of late night store runs, and he hadn’t gone on one with you in a while… What harm could it possibly do?

A lot. A lot of harm that surfaced the truth.

“I should’ve cuffed you when I had a chance!” The woman giggled as she came up beside you as you looked at the early Halloween decorations.

You raised a brow. “Excuse me?” You looked over to your boyfriend, whose face had gone pale. “I think you have the wrong…”

“You’re a lucky girl, y’know that?” She continued, brushing off your words. “He took me to the moon.” Her voice was so sultry and decadent. “Hope he takes you to the moon as well,” she says, her fingers trailing Tim’s arm.

He pulls away from her. “W...Who are you?” He says, attempting to sound confused.

The woman pulls a face before looking in between the two of you, her dark eyes glancing and putting together the pieces. Instead of being embarrassed or ashamed, she chuckles and begins to take off again. “I did you a favor, honey,” she calls over her shoulder, hips swaying as she turns down another aisle.

You don’t want to admit it, but now you know why Tim’s been so weird lately and nicer than usual. Sure, Tim is a sweet guy, but his behavior the past few months has been OVERLY nice, and now you know why. “What was that?” You ask, eyes narrowing and tears welling.

“Nothing, let’s just pay and get out-”

“I wanna go home.”

Tim moves to rest his hand on your shoulder, but you recoil as if you’d been burned.

A huge argument ensued when the two of you got back into the car, lots of harsh words were traded. He tried reasoning with you, he tried telling you how much he loved you, he tried everything in his power but he’d ruined a good thing.

You ended up pulling over on the side of the road, slamming the breaks, tears in your eyes and turned to him. “Give me the key to my house.”

“What? No-”

“Give. Me. The. Key. Tim,” you hiss, punctuating every word with stronger venom. You held your hand out.

Tim sighs deeply and reaches into his pocket, pinching the bridge of his nose as you harshly snatch the key from his awaiting hand. “It’s not like that, you know I love you-”

“Is that what you’re calling it? Cheating on me and then lying about it for months?” You rhetorically ask, growling and seething further and further. You feel rage wracking your system as it exhausts you further and further. You can’t bring yourself to look into his eyes, because if you do, you’ll melt.

“I’m telling you, it was to protect you,” he attempts again. “Let’s just, let’s just go home and-”

“Get the fuck out of my car,” you say, drawing in every remaining and residual strength you have as hot tears scald your cheeks.

“You don’t mean that-”

“I do.”

“Reader, baby please-”

“Get the fuck out of my car,” you repeat. You squeeze your eyes shut, shake your head and then turn back to the road. “Do it before I do something stupid.”

Tim feels his heart shatter, cracking on impact as it falls deeper and deeper. He shakily runs his fingers through his hair before sliding out of your car, slamming the door shut and watches as you drive off and out of his life. He wants to scream, or cry, maybe both at the same time? He’s not entirely sure yet. He just knows his world is crashing down and there’s nothing he can do about it.

He betrayed your trust and broke your heart all for one singular night of passion.

The emotionally distraught man looks up at the moon, finding no solace that it’s full again.

[pascalpanic]

Caffeine Rush: Chapter Four / Irish Coffee

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!Reader

W/C: 3k

Warnings: alcohol, language, sexual harassment, physical fighting, Javi is a legend for this chapter/next lmao, reader wears makeup and heels but clothing is otherwise not described

A/N: HI I’m gonna forgo summaries for this series from now on, if anyone has an issue with that pls lmk and we can go back to it, I’m just sick of using like the same summary lmao! Hope you guys like it, idk when chapter 5 will come but somewhat soon!

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Irish coffee: a cocktail consisting of hot coffee, Irish whiskey, and sugar, stirred, and topped with cream. The coffee is drunk through the cream.

Four nights after you first kissed Javier, and now many kisses later, Javier insists he take you to the one place he knows in D.C.: a nice bar in the downtown area. You’d spent the days visiting museums and monuments, giving him a tour of the Georgetown campus too. He’d hum along to the radio in your shitty car while you drove place to place. He surprised you with how much modern music he knew.

If the past four days have been getting to know Javier, privately becoming acquainted with each other’s minds and lips, tonight is some kind of grand exposition. Your brief whirlwind of a romance has been contained to your coffee shop and small restaurants off the beaten path. Javier is a well-connected man; he’s sure to know people downtown. From what he’s explained to you, he’s somewhat of a powerhouse in the DEA. Everyone downtown knows a version of the man, who goes by Agent Peña, but all you know is your Javi, your Javi who kisses you goodnight after buying you cupcakes, who drinks your peppermint mochas like it’s the nectar of the gods.

So, it’s safe to say you’re nervous. If he’s bringing you somewhere where he will know people, which he offhandedly told you, you’re going to be the living legend’s date for the night. As you stare into the mirror, your brow furrows in concentration, drawing a line across your eyelid with a pencil of kohl, your phone rings on the vanity in front of you. It makes you jump and the eye pencil drag upwards across your eyelid- most definitely not where you intended it to go. “Fuck!” you shout in annoyance and toss the pencil down. When you pick up, your voice shows your frustration. “Hello?” You ask sharply.

“Hey, abejita,” a smooth voice answers: who else but Javier. 

“Hi, Javi,” you sigh as you press the button, moving the call to the speakerphone. “You made me fuck up my eyeliner.”

“Sorry. Just calling to talk.”

His words make you smile and your ears feel warm as they rush with blood. You aren’t picking him up for another hour. “What, you couldn’t wait that long to talk?” You ask him, biting down on your painted lips with a smile. 

“No. I’m bored and I miss you.” It’s true, he thinks to himself. He hasn’t seen you all day. After spending the last three days in nearly 24-hour contact, he misses the sound of your laughter and the way your soft lips feel pressed against his stubbled cheek. 

“Well, I suppose it’s been…” you trail off as you calculate, “about 20 hours since I’ve seen you. I”m practically going through withdrawals,” you laugh, and it makes Javier’s chest warm to hear that beautiful sound, even through the tinny receiver of the hotel’s phone. “You know, if you have a cute nickname for me, I need to have something equally cute for you.”

“There’s a difference, abejita,” Javier teases, opening the hotel window to smoke out of. “You’re cute. I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

“I am many things, little bee, but I am not cute,” Javier chuckles as he sticks the cigarette between his lips and lights it up.

“Well, I think you are,” you refute in a stubborn tone. “You bought me cupcakes on our first date. That’s cute. You come to my work and bring me treats and kiss me in front of my coworkers. That’s cute too.”

Javier shakes his head. Sure, the things could be classified as cute, he supposes, but they’re not the normal Javier. Sexy, rude, intelligent, any of those words could describe him. He’s a playboy, a heartbreaker, and all in all is, by principle, a lone wolf. Well, he was. He’s been chasing Escobar for years and years… and now he’s dead. Maybe he can allow himself to start anew, and this new beginning has to have you in it.

He takes a slow drag from the cigarette, getting lost in his own thoughts and forgetting to answer. The silence makes you suspicious. “Javi? Did I lose you?”

The words snap him back to reality. “No, I’m here. I’m sorry, I… zoned out there.”

“Good,” you smile as you wipe off the messy eyeliner and apply a new, perfectly winged layer of the dark makeup. “I suppose I’ll just have to see what comes. Nicknames have to be earned, not given. Did you ever have any nicknames when you were little?” You ask as you brush a sparkling powder over your eyes.

Javier thinks for a second, almost to the point where you have to ask again if he’s there. That seems to be Javier’s biggest flaw so far. “No, not really. Sometimes the other kids would call me Peñita. Didn’t like that one,” he chuckles, and you can hear air rush past the microphone as he exhales the smoke into the ever-darkening D.C. sky. “My mom had all kinds of names for me, but they were the things you’d call a little kid.”

You nod, then realize he can’t see you and you need to speak. “That’s cute. Tell me about your parents,” you ask him as you continue to brush various makeup products across your face.

Javier shakes his head. “That’s more of an over-drinks topic, I think.”

“When have you ever held back information from me?” You scoff lightly, as if you’ve known him a thousand years. It hits you as you say it, the whirlwind this entire thing has been. You’ve known Javier for five days, and he’s already everything to you. And he’s going back to Colombia in 3 weeks. It makes your heart sink in your chest, and anxiety creeps in, the realization that he might not be falling as quickly as you are. Maybe it’s time to pull back a little, you tell yourself. He won’t be here long.

“Ha,” he says dryly and takes another drag from his cigarette. “Well, I’m ready when you are, if you want to come get me a little earlier.”

His emotionless tone makes you panic. You wonder if you just went somewhere you shouldn’t have by asking about his parents, if you’ve just crossed some line you didn’t know existed. You desperately want to ask him, to reassure yourself and get rid of the worry slowly collecting in your gut, but you don’t. You can’t. You shouldn’t. “I’m still getting ready,” you tell him, and it’s truthful. “I’ll be there at 7, like we said. Is that alright?” you ask. 

Javier blows a breath of smoke into the night, the cloud of smoke mingling with the heat puff of his breath. “Sounds good to me. I’ll leave you alone to get ready,” he tells you with a small smile.

“Alright. I’ll see you then. You’re wearing something nice, right?” You clarify one last time. 

“Whatever you wear will be beautiful on you. Don’t worry about it.” Javier, ever the king of flattery, looks down and appraises his own outfit. “But yes, I’m wearing something nice.”

You smile at the reassurance, looking down at the swirling colors of your makeup palette. “Well, thank you. I’ll see you in a bit.” -

You have to say you’re surprised at the level of refinement of the hotel. You’d expected the DEA would’ve put Javier at some shitty little hotel, but it’s surprisingly nice. You remember a few days ago, the sheer terror masked behind a stoic face, but you chuckle as you consider that this famed agent had very few context clue skills. This hotel is nice, a couple of stars at least. Why would they put him here if they were firing him?

Javier stubs out his cigarette in an ashtray when he sees your car approaching, straightening his sport coat. You hold back a grin as he walks over, but the fighting ends when you see him smile as he opens the door and slides in. 

“Hi,” you beam at him, and he leans across the center console, stealing a kiss.

“Hey.” He sneaks one more kiss, one that lasts a little longer and dares to use a bit of tongue. He only breaks away when you do with a laugh. 

“My foot is on the brake right now; be careful but kiss me one more time,” you ask of him with a grin, and he happily complies, cupping your face and kissing you. When he breaks away, your eyes open slowly and you can’t hold in your happiness. “Alright, now we’re going. You’ll have to guide me,” you tell him, and he nods. 

“Sure. You’re just going to go out of here and onto that street to the right,” he says and points the way for you.

Your car follows the path, nodding along to Javier’s instructions. “Jesus, that’s a fancy place. How much does that hotel cost a night?” You marvel as you stare at the gorgeous building in your rearview mirror.  

Javier shrugs. “I’m about to find out. They’re only paying for a few nights for me, then I’m on my own. I’m guessing it isn’t cheap,” he chuckles as he looks over his shoulder. “Or I might switch hotels. Don’t know yet.”

Frowning, you take a turn he’d earlier instructed you to follow. The hotel fades from sight, the dark blue of the December night filling your rearview instead. “Well, I know of a place you could stay for way cheaper.”

“Oh yeah?” He asks, adjusting in his seat to face toward you more. “What is that, pretty thing?” He asks, a hand resting on your thigh. 

“Stop,” you giggle and rest one hand atop of his. His fingers are much larger than yours, a fact that makes you shudder as his fingertips find bare skin there. “Pretty thing? That’s weak,” you tease, and Javier just rolls his eyes. “I was going to say you could stay with me, but now I’m not sure,” you say teasingly, eyes locked on the road and most certainly off of Javier. 

His brow furrows. “Well, I can pay you then.”

You shake your head. “Javi. We’re dating… aren’t we?” You ask, the hesitancy creeping into your voice. Now that you say it aloud, you’re not entirely sure that you are. “I mean, I don’t know, I just kind of thought,” you stumble over your speech, word-vomiting out whatever you can to backtrack. 

The man next to you tilts his head, but he nods. “I… I haven’t dated anyone in a long time,” he admits, his fingers starting to slowly grip your thigh rather than rest atop it. “Is this what dating is like to you?”

You nod too, knowing he’s watching you, staring down at the steering wheel. “I… yeah?”

A small smile cracks on his face, making the mustache there twitch softly. “Then I guess I’d say we’re dating. But that doesn’t matter, I don’t want to live in your place rent-free for three weeks.”

“It’s an extended vacation,” you chuckle and bring your hand back to the steering wheel to have two hands for a turn. “Don’t worry about it. I’d like having you around. We’ve already been together nonstop for a couple of days. What’s a little more?” You ask as you look over at him, seeing his eyes soften and his forehead relax from its tightened state. “And besides, any hotel is going to be painfully expensive right now. D.C. during the holidays makes the hotel rates skyrocket.”

He nods as you speak, processing the idea. “Well, do you have a guest room? I don’t want to invade your space, I can sleep on the couch if you don’t, or I can stay in a hotel.”

“Javier,” you chuckle, putting your own hand on his thigh to reassure him. “We’re not moving in together permanently. You’ll stay with me until you need to go back to Colombia, and that’s that.” Your mind has been made up. He can’t argue it, and he knows it from the firmness in your grip on his leg, in the way your body goes rigid as if the words are some formal deal that requires a handshake.

“How do you know I’m not some serial killer who does exactly this to lure you to your death?” Javier asks dryly as he looks over at you, lifting a hand to trace the side of your face slowly.

“Because you’re Javier Peña. Your name was in the newspaper next to Steve’s. You work for the DEA.”

“Some of the guys I work with could definitely be serial killers, that doesn’t discount anything,” Javier grumbles, which makes you laugh and makes him even grumpier. 

“The fact that you said that to me in the first place is my proof, Javi,” you chuckle and pat his thigh softly. “I’m an excellent judge of character. I just graduated from 7 straight years of studying psychology. Remember that?” Javier’s quiet and you know you’ve won. “Then tonight we’ll get your stuff after dinner and get you settled in my place. How does that sound?”

He’s quiet again, studying your face and the way your cheeks move with your lips, the way your brows rise and fall when he’s being ridiculous. He’s just as trained as you are, with 10+ years on you to prove his competence. You like him. You might even love him already, he thinks to himself. Your pretty lips purse at his silence and he finally cracks. “That sounds great, abejita.” Javier leans across the console to kiss your cheek, which makes you shiver softly, like any touch from the man does. “Thank you.”

“Thank me by buying me some drinks, huh?” You tease, turning back to focus on the road. 

-

The bar was nice. Really nice, you learned as you walked in. It projected the essence of Javier to you; naturally, you loved it from the moment you looked around. The room had a low ceiling and wood paneling around the walls, a floor that your short heels clacked upon as you walked to the only open stools- well, only one stool, you realized as you walked. Javier walked behind you, a hand on the small of your back, admiring your legs in the outfit you wore. 

When you finally found the available spot, where you’re now sipping a drink, you’d found that there was only one stool. 

“Do you want to go sit in the restaurant?” You asked Javier as you nodded with your head to the side of the establishment with tables and booths.

He shook his head and pulled out the stool. “You sit. I’ll stand.”

“Javi-”

“Just sit, abejita. I’ve been sitting all day. I can handle a little standing,” he chuckles and kisses your head, gesturing to the stool. When you sit, he smiles down at you and wraps his arms around you loosely from behind. You lean back against his strong chest.

Over the past few days, you and Javier have made infrequent contact, a hug in greeting or in goodbye and plenty of shared kisses. This, however, speaks directly to your touch-starved soul, the way his body practically encompasses you. He orders himself a whiskey and the drink you’d ordered on the first night you met him for you, then continues to stand there.

You crane your head around to look at him, smiling. “I love this place already,” you say, admiring the way you can hear over the hum of the other patrons and the quiet music playing. You’re much more accustomed to places your friends would drag you, where it was more for the cheap drinks than the atmosphere. 

The crow’s feet by his eyes are more pronounced as he smiles at you, but he looks even younger as his lips curve up softly. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Shit, is that Peña?” A loud voice calls from somewhere else in the building, and Javier turns, his face falling flat then smiling as he sees the voice behind it. 

“Be right back,” he murmurs and presses a kiss into the top of your head. 

It’s someone he recognizes, that’s for sure, as the man and Javier wrap their arms around each other and firmly pat the other’s back. “No shit! When did you get back to D.C., man?” The other guy asks. “Escobar just died and they’re already sending you back?”

The bartender delivers your drink, and you turn your back to Javier, thanking them and sipping at your liquor. Over your shoulder, you can hear the man and Javier talk shop, about Colombia and their days as DEA trainees, about Escobar’s recent death and Javi’s recent promotion. You glance over your shoulder at him, smiling as he easily talks with the group. You’ve not had the privilege of seeing Javier with his friends- or what seem to be his friends- yet, and he seems fairly social but humble. You appreciate that.

The talking goes on for a while, and you sip at your drink and look around the bar, appreciating the wood that makes a nice noise as your fingernails tap against it rhythmically. 

When your drink is about half-drained, the bartender sets another in front of you. It’s different from what you were drinking, a fluorescent neon color surely made by a mix of ridiculously fruity liqueurs. You look at the bartender with confusion and they nod to a man at the end of the bar. He’s not looking at you, which makes it all the easier to stare at the drink in confusion and disgust rather than drink it. His tie is absolutely egregious, boldly patterned in bright colors. There’s not an ounce of taste about this man.

The drink goes untouched, sitting in front of you as you study it. There seems to be layers, maybe, or maybe the mixed alcohols just congealed awkwardly. You sip your drink and then Javier’s whiskey, refusing to drink whatever fucking concotion sits in front of you.

Five or ten more minutes pass of Javier talking with his friends. You don’t mind- you know the feeling of catching up with people you haven’t seen in a long time. In that time, the drink remains untouched, and you ask the bartender for a refill of your go-to drink.

Not long after the second one arrives, you feel a hand on the curve of your back. You turn, hoping it’s Javier, and instead find it to be the man at the end of the bar who ordered you the drink: Tie Guy. Panic sets in immediately and you arch your back to dodge the hand, which only follows your spine. “Hey. Thought you’d like this drink. You tried it yet?” The man asks, voice clearly showing that he knows you haven’t. 

“No,” you say with a swallow, turning away from him. “Not exactly my style.”

“I thought it was such a pretty drink for such a pretty thing.”

Pretty thing. When Javier called you that earlier, even though the name wasn’t one you liked, it was at least endearing. To hear it again, dripping with sleaze and ill intentions, you shiver and push it further away. “I’m sorry, sir, it’s not my type of drink. My boyfriend will be right back, and-” you try, hating the defense you try to pull.

“He drinks whiskey,” Tie Guy says and gestures to Javier’s ¾ full glass. “No fun. Boring. Too manly, pretentious. Real men can drink something fun like these and not need to worry about someone thinking they don’t have a set of balls,” he says and his fingers trace the rim of the martini glass the concoction sits in. Now you’re definitely not drinking it, now that he’s touched it. 

“Please, I’m not interested,” you try, turning around to face the man that towers over your seated body. “I’d appreciate it if-”

“Hey,” a familiar voice- thank fuck, it’s Javier- calls from behind you. “Excuse me,” he says and pushes Tie Guy out of the way, his arm wrapping around you. It’s a relief, a grip meant entirely for comfort and not for the coercion the man across from you had tried. You melt into it instantly. “She said to back the fuck off, or could you not fucking tell?” He hisses at the man. Javier pulls away from you, stepping towards the man who instinctively steps back.

“Whiskey drinker,” the man snorts and rolls his eyes. “So manly, so over the top. Gotta let everyone know that you’re the alpha, the dominant male, huh?” He asks, getting in Javier’s face. He’s taller than your Javier, but lankier. The fact that Javier could take him crosses your mind, though you hope desperately that it doesn’t come to that.

“What I drink doesn’t fucking matter,” Javier says and shoves his chest. “What matters is that you’re fucking harassing my girlfriend. Back the fuck off,” he says and turns from the man, back to you, his hand on your upper arm. “You okay?” he asks quietly, and you respond with a nod and a forced, close-lipped smile.

“Yep, go ahead, go back to your little prude,” the man laughs drunkenly, his voice full of vitriol. “Oh, no, I bet she loves to act all shy, but then she’s a kinky little thing in bed, isn’t she?” He asks, taunting Javier. “Ties your ass up and whips you, with that sass. I wonder if she-”

The sentence isn’t finished. Javier’s fist flies through the air and connects with the man’s face, followed by a loud, ringing thud as the taller body hits the floor.

-

caffeine rush taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @yooforia @oceanablue @sara-alonso @pedrosmustache @feelingmadclever @hnt-escape @radiowallet @obsessivelysearching @sugarontherims @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @linnie0119 @1800-fight-me @autumnleaves1991-blog @toilet-keeper @evelynseventyr @metalarmsandmanbuns @shannababyy @sambucky21 @princess76179 @starless-eyes-remain @theorganasolo @jagi-yaaa @mrsparknuts @tacticalsparkles

[erectionsandtea]

Poly party summer fun headcanons, part 2 ! 😀 (this got way too long so I’m posting it as it is, and if I get more ideas, or if you guys want to send me anything 😉, I’ll either reblog this post or make a new one.) Enjoy!

(part 1 can be found here)

Amusement park: (these are based on amusement parks I have been to since they're all I know, lol)

IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER

- they go early so they can do everything (twice) but they also stay until it gets dark bc El wants to see all the lights

- one of her favorite rides is the big ship that swings back and forth because it feels like flying

- Max, Lucas, and Dustin take El on her first roller coaster ride, and it's super scary but she also loves it (Robin and Nancy go, too)

Lucas and Dustin scream like little girls on the roller coaster and become the butt of many jokes about it (most of them from Max)

Max and Lucas would totally try to kiss for the roller coaster camera (idk why okay, stop me) but the photo would look absolutely ridiculous and Max’s hair is fuckin EvERYWHERE

El uses some of her money to buy a copy of the photo (she buys a copy of their photo from every ride, it's a lot of money, but the others help her out with it), and when she gets home, Will helps her make a collage of all the photos that she puts up in her room

- El also wants caricatures, but they don't have enough money for everyone (so she just gets one of herself). Will watches the artist, who gives him tips on how to do it so he can draw some for El later (and he totes does bc good brother vibes)

- they do the ferris wheel last bc it is super romantic (even more so at night), and everyone wants to go with everyone else. Max wants to go up every time someone else does bc she wants to try to spy on them, lol

Groups, in order from side to other side (sitting, not riding order):

for her very first time: Max/El/Mike (her two bffs, aka her bf and gf)

Mike/Will

Max/Lucas

Dustin/Suzie

El/Max/Lucas

El/Mike/Will

El/Mike

El/Max

the guy running the ferris wheel is just like “you kids again???” bc they keep just getting off the ride and going straight to the back of the line to go up again, but eventually they have to stop bc the park is literally about to close and they’ll be kicked out

- there's also a haunted house ride and El absolutely has to ride with Mike bc when she is scared or feels like she's in danger, he's always been the best at making her feel okay again. She clings to him throughout the ride, but ends up laughing at how cheesy not-scary most of the effects are.

- as exhilarating as the drop rides are, El doesn’t like going on them too much but she can do it like, once. maybe twice.

- Lucas and Max, and Dustin and Will, like that ride that’s like the ferris wheel except you’re in a cage and you can manipulate the cage (by spinning it and stuff) to take you upside down. Dustin and Max do it too much, like to an extreme, and Will and Lucas are like “stop, the world is literally spinning” and they’re very disoriented when they get off

- there’s a rapids ride, and since the rafts are big enough to hold 8 people, the whole party is able to go together in one, and then the teens can go together in another one. they totally get sprayed by bystanders. 

- there's a shooting game (like where you go through a tunnel on a track, and targets pop up and you shoot them)

Lucas is the best and El rides with him bc the best should introduce the newbie, and she has so much fun, it's nothing like the guns she's experienced in her previous (lab) life.

Max and Dustin fight really hard to be second best.

Mike and Will go together and compared to the others, they suck, but that's okay they have fun anyway, and they joke about their own terribleness.

- Dustin buys those deep-fried snacks (you know the ones I mean) and he is literally the only person in the group that likes them (okay, not true, Robin can handle them, too)

El, against the advice of the others, wants to try those snacks bc she’s never heard of anything like that before, and the first time she takes a bite, her face goes through a range of like 10 emotions bc she’s being assaulted by flavors-

but after she manages to swallow it, she’s like “wow, that was amazing” and the others are like “...you serious??”

Mike is just like “that is disgusting and I’m not kissing you after that lol” and El is just like “but...why?” (he totes does tho, he doesn’t give a f, he’s kissing his gf bc he just can’t resist the cuteness)

Nancy, even though she doesn’t necessarily like it, can totally handle taking a bite and finishing it (like that beer from season 1) and Robin is like “that’s impressive, band geek” and Nancy’s just like “I’m not in band” (idk lol)

- El wanting to try EVERY food but the others have to cut her off bc it’s so expensive and she will get so sick

- Mike being a good bf and holding souvenirs bought by his bf and gf (Will totally buying a sweet little something for his awesome mom) (El totally doing the same thing to remind herself of Hopper, but she keeps it in her room instead)

- Lucas also being a good bf for the same reason but complaining about it, lol

- everyone goes on the log ride (you might know it as the flume) bc there isn’t a person on earth who doesn’t like that ride, and even tho she knows about the impending splash, El is still super surprised when it happens

Groups, in order (front to back):

El, Mike, Max, and Lucas (Max is explaining to El over Mike’s shoulder that “you absolutely HAVE TO be in the front, it’s the best way”)

Suzie, Dustin, Steve, and Robin (irrelevant but don’t tell me Robin sits in front of Steve, there’s no fuckin way, she’s not his gf, also Steve and Dustin just have to sit together bruh)

Will, Dustin (bc obvsly he goes on again), Nancy, and Jonathan

Mike has his arms around El like he thinks he’s going to protect her from the huge spray of water (but his skinny arms won’t protect shit lol) and he somehow manages to make a decent photo come out of him kissing her cheek while she is simultaneously screaming (good screaming)

- everyone loves the bumper cars (Jonathan and Suzie hang back tho, to hold everyone’s stuff and cheer from the side)

Max, as the only one (sans teens) who has actually driven a car before, rides with El so she can teach her how to do it

her and Lucas (with his passenger Will) are automatically in competition with one another (”you’re going down!” “no, YOU’RE going down!”)

Robin, riding by herself, goes after Steve and driver Nancy (who’s surprisingly good at this)

and Dustin (passenger Mike) gangs up with Robin to take on Steve and Nancy, which makes Nancy even more determined now to destroy both of them

Steve’s a little afraid of Nancy when she’s like this, lol

eventually Dustin and Robin are like “okay okay, we’ll stop! jesuschrist, how did you get so good at this??” (but also they are just in total awe of Nancy) and they just go after each other instead

- El doesn’t like spinning rides (too dizzy and they totally make her tummy “feel weird, like there’s a storm in it” “uh oh, you’re nauseous, El” “naw-shus?” “yeah, like sick, here, sit down for a minute”), but Will loves them and he’s there for her

- the sky ride (the one that takes you from end of the park to the other), groups:

Mike and Will on one side, Max and El on the other (the seats are basically little cabins, seats for 4 people)

Lucas and Dustin on one side, Jonathan and Steve on the other

Robin on one side (she totally takes up the whole double space, putting her leg up), Nancy and Suzie on the other

- carousel ride! (during the day)

El wants the prettiest horse

Max gets the most badass thing which is like...a wolf??

Lucas and Dustin ride only bc there’s a game where you can try to throw rings into a hole while going around (they each get one in by pure luck but otherwise suck). they don’t really care what animals they get, they just need ones that move up and down. Dustin gets a cat with a fish in his mouth, and Lucas ends up just picking a rabbit before everything is taken and he doesn’t have a choice anymore. The others fuckin laugh at the image of Lucas riding a rabbit

Suzie gets another horse

Will gets a lion which doesn’t move up and down but he’s okay with that, he’s kinda just going bc everyone else is

Mike gets stuck with a horse bc he was at the back of the group and by the time he gets there, every other non-horse animal is taken (but they joke about how he should have gotten the non-moving giraffe, taken by Steve, bc it’s so tall and gangly like him lol)

Nancy gets a horse

Robin takes the wild boar bc “dude that is the most badass animal on a carousel I have ever seen!”

Jonathan stays behind, no matter how much the others beg, but he takes lots of really good pictures (including the one time Dustin gets the ring in the hole and then cheering, then also him and Lucas high-fiving, and the various couples exchanging really cute looks, and El having the best time ever bc she’s never been on one of these before)

they go on the carousel one more time near the end of the night and this time Jonathan gives in and rides with them, but he sits in one of the benches that’s just there for the parents), and he still takes pictures as best he can without getting up and moving

- photo booth photos! (I’ll leave the silly face ones up to your imagination)

El and Max (one super close hug with faces pressed together, one kiss, one silly faces, and one smiles)

Will and Mike, but Max and El totally burst in for like, the last 1.5 pictures, it doesn’t ruin them tho, Mike and Will just ignore them (one nice smiles bc they’re like “what do we do??”, one hug, one kiss being interrupted by the girls in the background, one candid laughing while the girls wave at the camera)

Will and Mike again (one candid of Mike holding the curtain shut to make sure no interruptions and Will laughing, one kiss (non-interrupted), one silly faces, one just being super cute and close together and leaning on each other)

Max and Lucas (one smiles, one kiss, one of her pretending to look tough by putting him in a headlock or putting a fist next to his face like a punch, one that was supposed to be funny faces but instead is her looking off to the side where Mike has opened the curtain and stuck his head (with his tongue out) in as revenge and Lucas with that look of “dude, really??” on his face)

Dustin and Suzie (one kiss, one smiles, one nose-to-nose, one super close together leaning on each other cute)

Mike and El (one smiles, one kiss, one of him like surprise-trying to pull her into his lap kind of thing idk and her just looking super surprised but happy but also Max is in the background ruining YET ANOTHER picture, and one candid of them giggling about the previous picture with their foreheads pressed together almost nose-to-nose)

Mike and El again bc she wants non-interrupted photos (one with her actually sitting in his lap this time (she did this beforehand so he wouldn’t scare her again with the surprise-pulling thing), one of them pretending to look all hoity-toity like super models, one with her arms around his neck and his arms around her waist and they’re all close and cute sort of candid, and one just like the last one except they’re looking at the camera and smiling)

Will and Mike and El (one with Mike in the middle while his gf and bf give him a kiss on each cheek, one with El hanging over Mike’s shoulders in sort of a half-piggyback and he and Will are laughing, one with Mike and Will kissing while El makes a funny face at the camera, one of them all making funny faces at the camera)

Max and El and Mike (one with El in the middle, Max’s arms are around her waist almost dipping her backwards, her legs are up in the air (as far up as they can go in the tiny booth) and her head is tilting back onto Mike’s shoulder with his arms around her shoulders and he’s pressing a kiss to her hair, one with El kissing Mike’s cheek while he and Max make funny faces, one with Max behind them and her arms over both of their shoulders pulling them all close and their faces squished together with this super big cheesy grin while Mike is laughing at El’s funny face, one with Mike and El kissing and Max sitting next to them making the 👌🏻 symbol and winking at the camera, bc she just has to get sassy)

Bonus, more teens:

- Robin takes Steve on all the crazy rides (aka drags him, makes him go, etc.) They both get a little sick, but for her it's totally worth it (for him...not so much)

- Dustin and Robin get along hella bc he joins them on the crazy rides and is just @steve like “what are you, a pussy?”

- Nancy has to remind Jonathan that the kids will be FINE, and they don't need to hover around them all evening, "let's go enjoy ourselves"

- Nancy likes roller coasters, CHAnGE mY MInD

- Steve and Robin totally scream when they go on the drop ride together, except Robin’s scream is more “holy shit, exhilarating and so exciting! whooooo!” while Steve’s is more “this is fun but also I’m totally gonna die!!”

- Steve is a boss at those games where you have to throw something at/into/onto a target and he wins a stuffed animal

- Robin is p decent at those games too, but she’s not a match for the king (she comes close though, they actually turn it into a competition to see who can win more stuff)

- Nancy kicks butt at that game where you shoot a spray of water and make the target thing rise to the top or race or whatever (any shooting game, really), you know what I mean (Jonathan fucking fails, sorry Jonathan)

- Steve totally wins that game where you swing a mallet and try to ring the bell. Robin doesn’t win but she gets way closer than they thought she would and Steve’s “wtf”. Dustin is also stronger than he looks, and even tho he doesn't win, he can at least lift the (smaller) mallet, which is more than any of the others can do.

- Robin HAS to do that game where you try to climb the flat, almost horizontal rope ladder to the end and she doesn’t even make it halfway before she falls, but it’s hilarious

- Nancy also tries that game after some goading from the others, and she makes it farther than Robin (about halfway) but still fails fantastically. And then she takes a bow.

[weirdmageddon]

good lord what a fucking stressful day

driving up to class there was a truck in front of me for like ten straight minutes that was going 19 mph on a 35 mph road and there was a car behind me and i could just feel his pain too. it was taking all my mental effort to not blare my horn. soon as that fucking truck turned onto another road i pressed down so fucking hard on the gas pedal to get across the message to the cars behind me that i was pissed off we had to go that slow and that it was not my decision like sort of an apology to them like “you saw that fucking guy?? im not gonna keep putting you through that”

then when i got out of class i drove to the bookstore and was told i have no funds in my account to buy books and that i need to go to financial aid office. then i got anxious because nobody there knew where it was (i dont live on-campus so idk either) and i couldnt find any answers online because the map wasnt loading.

so then i looked at one of those “you are here” maps around campus and saw that financial aid was on the other side of route 41/tamiami trail (left side of campus). so i waited at that stupid light for 5 minutes and once i got to the other side i had to find a place to park which was annoying, and i still couldnt find the stupid office. i asked inside the first building i saw and the lady said it was across the road (pointing to the OTHER road, not route 41) so i walked over there. didnt look like the financial office but i checked anyway and it was locked, (and it wasnt the financial aid office). btw i’m in florida if it’s not obvious by “tamiami trail” and i have a heat intolerance (im 99.99% certain i have POTS, all i need is an official diagnosis but i havent had the appointment yet) and i started getting really fatigued and i was sweating my ass off and couldnt think straight and i felt that i was starting to get teary.

so im trying to find this stupid office in this oppressive heat. with a heat intolerance. and wearing a mask which made it feel a lot harder to get in air. i tried to ask this random kid but i broke down in front of him because i couldnt hold my shit together over something so minor as being unable to find this fucking office and i bet he thought i was insane or mentally unstable and i realized this so i was apologizing to him. when i inhaled it was so loud they were like gasps and i couldnt do anything about it and it made me so embarrassed...like the kinda gasps people do after running for their life. not quite hyperventilation because it wasnt fast but whenever i took in air it was like a sharp wheeze 😭 like my throat was so tight the air getting squeezed through it made a loud noise

so idk i think i maybe had a panic attack outside because i couldnt find this motherfucking financial aid office in this 90°F 70% humidity weather where it feels like 104°F so i could barely breathe to begin with and no one had given me good directions. then i involuntarily began holding my breath because it was embarrassing to be making loud sobbing gasps while walking.. which made it even harder to breathe but at least i wasnt drawing attention to myself.

i walked over to the student recreation center to get into the air conditioning and get some water. i sat down and i noticed i was STILL involuntarily holding my breath. they’re not breath-holding spells like babies do, like i dont do it until i get blue in the face but it’s sort of an automatic response as though to not make any noise? but it’s really involuntary it kinda becomes my default mode of breathing instead of normal respiration (anyone else do this when crying btw?? i tried looking it up but all i got was breath-holding spells in babies)

so taking few minutes while trying to calm down i took my phone out and searched for the financial aid center’s location on google and i still got nothing descriptive. i asked a more students around if they know where it is, one said he didnt know, and i was about to leave but near the exit there were like 4 students playing billiards and i asked them if they knew where it was. and i think one of the kids knew me from middle or high school because he remembered me and looked sort of familiar and said “sara are you okay” and i broke Again and i felt absolutely pathetic, but they ended up actually helping me this time find it and were really nice. turns out it WAS on the online campus map the whole time but i overlooked it because it was labeled “Palmer D / Financial Aid” and my tunnel vision ass just did not even recognize it because i was looking at the first letters going down the key list. and i felt so stupid. all of that for nothing. i couldve just stayed parked where i was for class earlier on the other side of tamiami trail. then i trudged back through the heat to my car and thats when i turned from feeling lost and panicky into frustrated and irritable because i KNEW where i needed to go but it felt like everything around me was so goddamn slow. i had to wait at that light for the full 5 minutes again because it turned from green to yellow just as i was driving up to it.

once it was green, i pulled back into that parking lot i was in at the beginning of the day and walked into the financial aid office and actually got something accomplished. i filled out a form (that they never made clear last year due to covid 🙄) which makes my bookstore funds automatically deposited and i helped walk a freshman who came in through the exact same steps after i finished mine. so that made me feel a little better.

at this point i was so full of adrenaline and cortisol and i acutely noticed how fucking DISGUSTING it was outside, the air was so muggy and it was overcast and like 90°F just an absolute swamp ass jungle. and i got back into my car and waited at that fucking tamiami light AGAIN and some stupid lady was like one whole ass car space behind the light so i couldnt turn into the right lane until it turned green and i was sittingthere for 5 mins just WAITING for this idiot to pull forward. then i waited at ANOTHER 5 minute light immediately after that before being able to actually drive home. just so many minor inconveniences all throughout my day that made everything feel so much worse.

i’ve been home for 4 hours at this point, i already showered but my body still feels like it’s full of stress hormones. my body is actually still has very minute tremors from all the stress. great start to the semester already.

[insomniamamma]

Late Bloomers: Ezra x F! Reader w/Cee

A/n: Set in the "Liminal" AU in which Ezra becomes his niece, Cee's legal guardian after a car accident kills his brother, Damon, and costs him his arm. Set sometime between "Ferris  Wheels Are For Old People" and "Surf City Goodness." Reader is Ezra's neighbor. Established relationship (sort of, IDK how to tag what they are). For @autumnleaves1991-blog​ and @clydesducktape​ Writer Wednesday.

Warnings: Not a whole lot. Kissing. Touching. A little spicier than I usually go, which isn't saying whole lot. A little language.  Cee, as usual, needs her own warning. Set during the pandemic shut down. Mentions of covid. Also, I feel like 'The Apple' needs it's own warning. I'll link the trailer at the end.

           "You sure you don't want to come with us, Birdie?" Cee sits at their scarred kitchen table, her laptop, textbooks and a pile of papers around her. She frowns.           "I gotta study," she says, "Ms Stewart is really serious about this quiz. She's not grading on a curve this time." Ezra narrows his eyes.           "You have never spent a Saturday night studying in your life," he says. Cee frowns up at him.           "You've never been in Ms. Stewart's physics class," says Cee, "She's a hard ass. Anyway, I'm still pulling an 'A' in her class, but I don't want to fuck up my average."           "Jesus, Cee," Ezra mutters, and you have to smile. She rolls her eyes.           "I know, I know--"           "Don't say 'fuck' at school," they say in unison.           "They're doing double features all summer," says Cee, "I can miss one. I've seen all these movies anyway." She smirks, "I want to hear what you think of 'The Apple.'" Ezra rummages around for his keys and Cee drops you the most exaggerated wink you've ever seen in your life.           "Have fun, guys," she says.

         Covid has nuked most of the things you used to do for fun, restaurants and shows, hell, even the libraries are closed. The only business in town that's thriving is the Star-City Drive In. There haven't been any big studio releases in a while, so they've been doing Fright Night Fridays and Sci-Fi Saturdays. Tonight's double feature is Flash Gordon and The Apple.          "They've got this weird way of operating the concession stand now," says Ezra, "Cause of the pandemic. You've gotta text them your order and I guess they bring it out to you--" Ezra's gotten pretty good at working his phone one-handed, but you can see the frustration clouding his face.          "Let me," you say, loading the menu onto your phone, "Let's get a big popcorn and share it. You okay with the fake butter?"          "Of course I'm okay with the fake butter, what kind of monster do you take me for?"          "How about candy?" You ask, scrolling through, "It's the usual suspects."          "Sno-caps," he says, "How about you?"          "I'm thinking Milk Duds," you say.          "Now that is an excellent way to lose a filling, Sunshine."          "Popcorn and Milk Duds together? Worth the risk," you say and text your order off to the concession stand. It's not quite dark yet, a reel of movie trivia that no one cares about shines ghost pale on the screen. Ez has got the radio tuned to pick up the sound, but there's not much to listen to yet so it's turned down low, background noise with the cicadas and birdsong. The big screen backs up against a farmer's field run wild and a dark stand of trees.          "Switch places with me," says Ezra, and gets out of the truck. He comes around to your side and opens the door for you.          "Why?"          "Indulge me," says Ezra, so you do as he asks and settle in to the driver's side. Ezra's truck has bench seats with vinyl that creaks and cushions that hiss slightly as you move around. There's a tap at the window and you hook your mask over your ears and crank it down, popcorn and candy and you already payed with your phone, but press some rumpled bills into their gloved hands.          "Why'd you want to switch places?" You ask around a mouthful of popcorn.          "Shhh," says Ezra, "The movie's starting."

         Flash Gordon is just as fun as you remember it being, majestic in its absurdity, a big love letter to all the terrible pulp sci-fi movies that came before, the two of you watch and snark and laugh and sing "Aaa-ahhh" whenever someone says Flash's name. We owe it to Queen, you say, and Ezra smiles big the way he does when something's caught him off guard, the way that crinkles his eyes and reveals his dimples, indeed we do. We owe it to Freddie Mercury.          At some point his arm finds it's way around your shoulders and you lean into him.          "So this is why you wanted to switch spots," you murmur. He raises his prosthetic arm, flickering movie light shining on the double hook at the end.          "Can't exactly get handsy with Mr. Claw, now can I?" He grins, "These hooks might be a little chilly."          "And pokey," you say, demonstrating with a dig to his ribs. The end credits are rolling.          "You ever seen this next movie?"          "The Apple?" He says, "No. Some sort of cult-movie thing. Cee made me promise not to IMDB it. She said I should go in with an open mind."          "Oh boy," you laugh.          "Right? Cee's tastes are all over the place. I suspect this will be either amazing  or terrible on a scale that recalibrates our internal gauge of what terrible is."          "You know she set us up, right?"          "Yeah," says Ezra, "Little Bird fancies herself quite the matchmaker."          "She winked at me." Ezra dimples.          "Did she now?"          "She looked like a cartoon," you laugh, "About as subtle as a ton of bricks." Ezra brays laughter and leans against you, squeezes you closer to him at the same time. He is beautiful when he laughs, all dimples and teeth eyes screwed shut in mirth and you take this opportunity to press a kiss against that tender place on his jaw where his beard refuses to grow. Ezra freezes, you feel his body go rigid against yours, and your first thought is to apologize, to pull back, and then he reaches for you, his broad, calloused palm cradling your face, drawing you to him, presses his lips to yours, a soft, reverent kiss that he does not fully withdraw from, his hand now resting on the nape of your neck, forehead pressed to yours, somehow more intimate than a kiss, this closeness, breathing each others exhalations, leaning against each other.          "Cee's not wrong," you say, "We're good together."          "We are, aren't we?" He gives your nape a gentle squeeze, and lets you go. The opening titles of The Apple flicker on screen and the music starts up.

         "Oh, Ezra, what the fuck did we just watch?"          "I don't know if 'watch' is the right word, Sunshine, we did not 'watch' The Apple. The Apple happened to us."          "I don't think I've ever understood Stockholm syndrome until now."          "I have been assaulted," says Ezra, "My civil rights have been violated."          "It's like..." You trail off, "It's like if someone took '1984', 'A Star Is Born' and 'The Rocky Horror Picture Show' and put them in a blender. I'm pretty sure this movie violates the Geneva conventions." Ezra laughs and so do you, leaning in to each other, giggles that become kisses, soft at first, but increasingly hungry, laced with need, your arms twine around his shoulders, his hand lingers at your side, toying with the hem of your shirt.          "S'okay, Ez," you say as he nips at your jaw and then your neck, gentle graze of teeth that makes you shiver, "You can touch me." He kisses you deep, his tongue fever-hot against yours, hand sliding up the soft slope of your belly, cupping your breast, and you arch into his touch--          Tap Tap Tap. And there's a bright light shining through the passenger's side window.          "Oh shit," says Ezra. You frantically yank your shirt back down, heat creeping up your neck, your cheeks, your earlobes flaming.          "Movie's over guys," says the shadowed figure behind the flashlight's glare, "Take it someplace else." You open the door to switch places back with Ezra, the overhead light shows him red faced and horrified.          "I'm sorry, I just--"          "Get us out of here, Ez."

         You stare out into the dark past the window, half-moon shining over fields and trees like a lazy eye. You snort laughter.          "What's so funny?"          "We got caught," you say, "We got caught necking at the drive-in like a couple of teenagers."          "You're laughing because we got caught?"          "I'm laughing because I've never made out with anyone at a drive-in, even when I was a teenager, and I'm laughing cause we got caught. After watching that trash-fire of a movie. We got caught making out over the end credits of 'The Apple'. I feel like we deserve some kind of award." You rest your hand on Ezra's leg, can just pick his smile in the dim lights from the dash. Ezra chuckles.          "I never made out with anyone at the drive in before tonight either," says Ezra.          "Bullshit," you say, and give him a good-natured poke.          "It's true," he says, "For one, I didn't have access to a car. I would've had to borrow Ma's car, and there was no way that was ever going to happen. Also, I was not what the girls back then referred to as 'dating material'. Skinny as a rake with a mouthful of braces and an obvious birthmark? I was like a puppy trying to grow into it's ears and feet, a late bloomer if you will." You move your hand higher up along his thigh and give him a squeeze.          "Better late than never."          "Indeed."

Flash Gordon Trailer

The Apple Trailer

[drxwsyni]

Petrified (pt.5)

Yandere Erasermic x f!Reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

a/n: idk what to say about this part. the dialogue wasn’t fun, but that’s about it! hope y’all enjoy!

5.9k words

Warnings: reader experiences anxiety

Realistically speaking, there was a very low chance that you’d be able to wrestle your nerves under control as you waited for the impending meeting. It was creeping upon you, quite painfully slowly. On top of that you still had yet to resolve the almost instantaneous sensation of despair you felt upon waking.

Even as you spent the time you had to yourself completing menial tasks, nothing could truly remedy the feelings that plagued your being. It was incessant. Eating away at your will to distract yourself. And eventually you did succumb to its pestering.

No matter what you occupied yourself with, the reality of the approaching situation would invade your thoughts. It would keep you there until you mentally fought tooth and nail against it. But even then it wasn’t enough. It simply became easier to settle with the mindset.

You opted to lay on your thrifted couch, toying with the soft tussles on the blanket that was draped over your lower half. The connection of the fabric running across your fingers to how it actually felt wasn’t something your brain was choosing to register at the moment.

Rather, you simply stewed on your conflict.

It felt like you did this a lot nowadays. Brewing over muddled thoughts that didn’t entirely make sense but also did at the same time.

You trusted Shouta and Hizashi. Yet there was always an inkling of suspicion―or perhaps it was moreso a fear. Probably both, you assumed. What you wouldn’t give to have this whole reality be erased from existence. To never have met the two. Never have gotten preyed on by some lowly criminals that made you so indebted.

But that wasn’t something you could control. Much like you couldn’t seem to control the extent of the impact the heroes were having on your life. That was something they preferred to dictate, regardless of your protests.

Not that you protested all that much. To be fair, you hadn’t exactly been assertive with your wishes. Still, that doesn’t mean your few opinions should be as disregarded as they were.

It angered you more than anything. Shouta wouldn’t give you the chance to speak your mind while Hizashi glazed over the problem with a delusional sense of care. With their combined insistence it was more than enough to force you back into your shell. A place where no matter how upset you were, the courage to speak your mind was next to impossible.

If you didn’t know any better you would think that they were just as aware of this as you. After all, they seemed to be exploiting your weaknesses more and more. Maybe they did know you quite literally feared their methods of approach and were doing it just to see your pitiful reactions.

It would be cruel, and highly unlikely. But your mind had a habit of coming up with the worse case scenario, and this idea was no exception.

You were so wrapped up in contemplating the meaning for their behaviour and subsequently how you felt because of it that the time passing at an alarming rate didn’t even phase you.

No, not until the sound of your phone pinging―an alert for received text messages―were you finally pulled out of your stupor.

From: Shouta

Are you still okay with being picked up at 5:30?

4:32 pm

The time on the receipts made your heart drop a little. An hour left.

You:

That’s fine :)

4:33 pm

From: Shouta

Let me know if you need more time.

4:33 pm

You:

Will do, thanks!

4:34 pm

Of course you didn’t need more time to meddle with your own thoughts.

How exactly were you supposed to get ready to spend time with them? You couldn’t make anything to bring, something they made clear. Were you supposed to wear something casual? Or maybe dressing up a little was the better option.

None of these details really mattered, but overthinking was one of the things you were best at. So at each decision you came across you muddled over what to do. When all was said and done, you chose to settle with a navy blouse and black high waisted jeans. Dark colours were best for not drawing attention to yourself after all, and that was exactly what you wanted to do.

The rest of the routine to prepare for your slowly ensuing departure from the comfort of your apartment was done on autopilot. Any actions couldn’t be fully processed when your mind was drowning in nonsensical worries and ‘what if’ scenarios. The phenomenon wasn’t surprising, but still mentally taxing nonetheless. Nothing you could think or do would make you feel better. This was just something you would have to push through regardless of the voice in your head urging you to make up an excuse not to go.

After all, excuses now would only postpone the inevitable. And right now the inevitable was already here.

From: Shouta

I’m outside.

5:29 pm

You’d been ready for the past fifteen minutes―spending your remaining time anxiously waiting at the kitchen table. You regarded the text with a feeling of dread, but pushed the sensation down as you pulled on your shoes and jacket, stuffing your wallet in a pocket.

Just as he said, Shouta was waiting outside the apartment complex in the parking lot. He was leaning against the side of his car, eyes trained on his phone. Dressed in casual clothes with his hair pulled back into a half bun, he lifted his head upon hearing your approaching footsteps.

You watched as his eyes briefly scanned your form, presumably taking in your choice of clothing. “Ready to go?”

He didn’t exactly sound bored with the pseudo-greeting, rather it was a ‘let’s move this along’ kind of sound. It made you question for a moment whether he actually cared about the situation, but you disregarded the idea. “Of course.” Out of habit you offered a warm smile, which made his face lighten slightly in return. Even that alone was comforting compared to his normally serious facade.

Shouta opened the passenger door for you, letting you step in before closing it. He rounded the car and entered on the drivers side while you fastened your seatbelt, hands shaking ever so slightly. It was in your best interest to keep your nerves under control as much as possible, lest one of the two men pick up on it and become more concerned.

The car started with a low hum, the interior dashboard lighting up in areas that were blacked out before. The radio was playing quietly, allowing you to just barely register the soft rock music being emitted from the speakers. Shouta was the first to break the silence as he began driving.

“So, how was work yesterday?”

Small talk, thank god.

It would probably be a good idea to disregard the normal strain it put on your body. “It was good, like any other Friday I guess.”

The erasure hero nodded slightly before replying, “Anyone giving you trouble?” His eyes never left the road as he spoke, which you were thankful for, but it also made his expression hard to read from where you were sitting.

“I suppose a few people were a little impatient, but it’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”

To that he only offered a hum in response before moving to turn the radio up. By now there was a segment between the hosts, and you gratefully let it fill the silence if it meant you could avoid any awkward bits of forced conversation.

You found out regrettably that his home wasn’t too far from your apartment. Perhaps roughly ten minutes there by car, and you were already pulling up to the settlement.

It was comfortably small, set in a neighbourhood with houses of a similar size. You could tell that it was a pricy abode, evident in the elaborately carved wooden doors and smooth stone walkway. Everything exuded luxury, and you expected to find the same quality of handiwork on the inside. Not only that, but it was placed comfortably in the midst of the city―not close enough to any normal bustling life but in an area that would allow for a fast commute. Just another aspect that alluded to it’s likely expensive cost.

Shouta pulled into the driveway, parking the car inside the garage which was surprisingly big enough to fit the automobile. You stepped out as soon as the car door unlocked, the erasure hero following suit. The sound of the doors slamming shut echoed off the walls loudly, causing you to jump a little with your nerves already being on edge. Silently, you prayed he had yet to pick up on your behaviour.

“S’just through here.” Shouta gestured to the only door in the room before heading towards it, one hand shoved in his pocket. He held it open in wait for you to round the car and step through the threshold.

Instantly your senses were flooded with a smell that was so indisputably welcoming―a certain warmth, enhanced by the aroma of a home cooked meal in the making. It was wildly calming, and in that moment you forgot how stressed you’d been over the ordeal you were about to sit through. And yet, even as you came back to reality, the atmosphere continued to still your worries to a certain extent.

“We’re home.” The erasure hero’s voice sounded off behind you, causing you to turn to see that he was removing his jacket. You did the same, but before you could ask where to hang it Shouta had already gently removed the article from your hands, placing it on a hanger in the front entrance closet.

As you were removing your shoes a certain voice hero made himself known. “I’m just in the kitchen, grub’s almost done and cooked!”

Once the two of you had finished up getting comfortable, Shouta led the way deeper into the house. Following him, you finally laid eyes on his partner who was preoccupied at the stove. He glanced over his shoulder, face turning bright upon seeing you.

“Songbird? How’ve ya been?” He talked like he hadn’t seen you in forever, but that was no surprise.

What did come as a surprise was the suffocatingly tight hug he went on to wrap you in. The contact was jarring, but you did your best not to recoil. After all, you would be lying if you said the hug wasn’t at least a little nice. Sure, your mind had momentarily ceased it’s functioning from the shock, but biology did have its ways of easing your pain. Namely, in the form of that sweet release of serotonin as an innate response to the affection. Leaning into it to prove you weren’t too bothered by the close proximity, you responded. “Ah―fine. The same as last time you saw me I guess.”

The blond pulled away, opting to hold you by the shoulders as he spoke. “That head feelin’ okay? Your meds workin’?” The look in his eyes told you how concerned he was, even though the soft tone in his voice did more than enough to convey it. It was one of the few times it carried such delicacy to it, something you were grateful for as you don’t think the normal booming of his voice would’ve been tolerable from such a distance.

You smiled warmly, doing your best to maintain eye contact―and failing after a few seconds. “Yep, everything's back to normal, pretty much…”

That’s what you said, but it wasn’t the truth.

The reality of your health was something you normally chose to disregard, but you knew it wasn’t normal. At the end of the day, your normal was likely another person's hell. The exhaustion you felt was second nature, but that didn’t mean it was easy to deal with. However, putting up with the sensation was worth what you got out of it. So you kept going―kept lying―both to yourself and others that you were okay.

The pause Hizashi gave before answering instilled a brief pang of anxiety. The two were unbearably perceptive―they had to be, being heroes and all. But whatever he was thinking seemed to pass. “Good ta hear, why don'tcha make yourself comfortable while we finish up sweetheart.”

You glanced over to the stovetop, then to the countertop that was adorned with wayward vegetables and measuring cups. Naturally, you couldn’t help but offer assistance. “Oh, I don’t mind helping out. If you want I could―”

“Nah listener! Go get comfy, ‘Shou and I’ve got this.” He gave your shoulder a few reassuring pats, before motioning to the living room with his other hand.

As he gave you a gentle push, you managed to sputter out a response. “Um―okay, then…” Was it a strong response? No. But they weren’t giving you time to come up with something more polite. So you took Hizashi’s queue and padded over to the living room.

The first thing you noticed when you stepped into the expanse was how...empty it was. It had furniture―more than enough to fill the room. All of it looking high in value, only adding to the comfort and prestige of their home. That wasn’t the issue. It was the lack of personal items that stood out.

There were none of the items that you would expect in a well lived in home. Things like photos or framed degrees on the wall―nothing to suggest that either of the two heroes stayed there. Not so much as a haphazardly discarded personal belonging like a sweater or even a stray coffee mug was in sight. It was immaculately devoid of unique human presence. The only thing that served as evidence to suggest someone was actually living there and it wasn’t more so a showroom was the laptop on the coffee table in front of the couch.

But that was it. Peculiar, to say the least.

There was quite literally nothing else for you to evaluate. Nothing to help you get a better sense of who the heroes were behind closed doors. With the lack of stimulation came an awkward feeling of self awareness. So you did what the blond instructed―you made yourself comfortable.

The couch looked invitingly cushiony, so there you took up residence, pulling out your phone for the distraction of social media. You had your back to Shouta and Hizashi who were still in the kitchen. That particular detail mildly unsettled you, and you did your best not to let the paranoia induced urge to keep looking over your shoulder get to you.

With the comfort of the temporary seclusion you concluded that while they might be taking your presence to make up for the burden you’ve placed on them, you were paying an equal amount with your sanity. They couldn’t have seen how much their existence in your life as of late was displacing your will to remain calm. If they did then you were sure the heroes in them wouldn’t have suggested this meeting.

They were getting too personal, and all you could think about was never having to see them again after tonight.

Regrettably, the sound of clinking metal pulled you out of your thoughts. Behind you Shouta had begun setting the dining table, placing down cutlery along with napkins. Part of you knew that your offer of assistance would be shot down. It was all routine at this point, and you’d honestly lost track of the amount of times it had happened.

You inwardly cursed yourself for causing unnecessary anxiety, “I can help with that, if you want.” The ‘if you want’ came out unintentionally, your subconscious knowing what was about to happen.

Shouta glanced up at you, “That’s fine (y/n), you can just take a seat.” He went back to what he was doing without another word, before heading back to the kitchen.

It wasn’t even worth putting up resistance over.

Standing up, you walked over to the dining room, claiming the spot next to the head of the table. Not a moment later and the two were walking out with various bowls which appeared to be steaming.

“Hope you’re hungry sunshine! Dinner’s comin’ in hot” Hizashi set down a bowl in front of you.

“It’s beef stew, hope you don’t mind.” The erasure hero sat down at the head of the table. His partner left the room, only to return with a tray of golden dinner rolls.

“Homemade and fresh outta the oven!” He set the tray down in the middle of the table, taking a seat across from you.

You looked down at the food displayed before you. Frankly, it looked absolutely delectable. “This looks really good, you must’ve been at it for a while.”

Shouta had already begun eating so you assumed it was safe for you to do the same. Lo and behold, the food tasted just as good as it looked. The perfect ratio of vegetables to meat, seasoned to perfection. It was impressive, to say the least.

“Yeah it did take a bit, but it’s worth it for you songbird!”

You were almost too distracted by the mouth watering meal that was gracing your tastebuds to care about his pet names. And even if you did care, the hospitality would help in overlooking it. Thankfully your nerves had calmed down a bit, part of you thinking that you were growing used to their presence ever so slightly.

As you ate, the two took it upon themselves to make idle discussion to fill the silence, Hizashi always doing more of the talking than his counterpart. You did the listening, as they were dealing with topics beyond you. Namely hero work, its details something that you couldn’t quite relate to, let alone offer something valuable to the conversation. You weren’t complaining either―it was easier to let them go on than it was to worry yourself over trying to find something interesting to say.

It would’ve been nice if things could’ve stayed like that. The mood was something you could tolerate at the moment, an occurrence that was rare when you were around the two men. But of course something so ideal as that would never last.

Soon enough their back and forth discourse began heading exactly where you hoped they would avoid tonight.

Hizashi was on the subject of a few unsavoury criminals that had been active in the area. Nothing too serious, but still posing a large enough threat to those who were less capable of defending themselves.

And then he started talking about the area you were walking through when you just so happened to get cornered by similarly dangerous individuals.

At that point you were a little over halfway done eating, and desperately wishing to quickly move from the subject if not just drop it entirely. But no, Hizashi was intent on remaining on the topic.

“Ya know, a few buddies of mine have been dealing with some trouble in that area.” With his mouth half full, he continued. “Sure you gotta work so late? Can’t imagine walkin’ home at that time is very safe.”

You’d lost your appetite.

“Yeah, they need me to cover the later shifts, and I don’t really mind it, so…”

Shouta seemed to be more interested in the discussion now that you were involved. “Still, you should try and switch to morning shifts.”

“Mm―not only that but ya can’t just go exploring a bunch of alleyways. Shit’s bound to happen there hun.” The blond had set his food aside and was more than happy to indulge himself further in telling you what to do.

Did they really think you were so dense that you’d be going down alleyways just to explore?

You placed your spoon in the almost empty bowl, bringing your hands to rest on your lap. At least like that they wouldn’t be able to see you trying to relieve some stress by repetitively fidgeting with the end of your sleeve or digging your nails into the palms of your hands.

“I was taking a shortcut. That’s not something I would normally do.” There was a certain feeling of spite in your voice, but you doubt they could register it. Rather you probably simply sounded displeased to be talking about that night, mixed with a hint of shame for letting yourself get attacked like that.

“If that’s the case then I’d advise you take the long way. You’re just putting yourself at a higher risk by going down that path.” Shouta was taking a sip of his drink as the two let you process their advice. He didn’t seem to like the idea of you ‘putting yourself at risk,’ judging by the almost disappointed tone in his voice.

It was hard for you to meet their eyes as they spoke, so instead you alternated between staring at the table while looking at them for a brief second to prove that yes, you were listening to them.

However you did watch as Hizashi moved to fold his hands atop the table, leaning forward slightly. He paused, likely gathering his thoughts. “And, ah...somethin’s been sorta bothering Shou’ and I for a bit.” The two men eyed each other for a moment, “It’s just...the doctor never said what was quite wrong with ya, being so tired and all.”

The heroes were looking intently at you for an answer, causing you to mentally recoil from the unwanted attention. But you still had to come up with something to influence them into moving on to something that didn’t directly relate to your wellbeing. “Oh...well it was the end of the week I guess. That probably explains it…” You were curious to see if the answer was satisfactory, but upon looking up a little more to judge their reactions you found that oh no, that was most definitely not enough.

They didn’t look convinced in the slightest. You weren’t lying to them, just omitting most of the truth. And somehow it felt like they knew you were doing so―your suspicions being quickly confirmed.

“You passed out, (y/n). Your records don’t list any medical problems so there should be no reason your shifts cause you that much exhaustion.”

You had no doubt Shouta was boring holes into your skull with the unmatched intense look he was likely giving you. The wavering amounts of courage you held only allowed you to observe him from the shoulders down. He’d leaned back in his chair at this point, one hand in his lap while the other rested on the table.

They didn’t have the right to be so invasive with your personal life. They were heroes. They saved people and then they were supposed to move on.

Not access their medical history without their permission to see if they were being completely honest.

As if sensing your growing uncomfortableness, Hizashi piped up. “We’re just worried about ya sweetheart. Stuff like that doesn’t just happen outta the blue. And if somethin’ really is wrong then you gotta tell us.”

You could almost drown in the concern blanketing his words and tone. It was conflicting―you knew he was being genuine, and that the two were just that invested in your wellbeing at the moment. But that’s what scared you.

The attention was entirely unwelcome. How many times did you have to reassure them that you were handling things before they let it go?

Self-awareness was haunting you, knowing full well how you were going to be unable to control the shakiness in your voice. Even less so was the hold you had over the stirring of worrisome emotions brewing inside you. You knew skirting around the truth was better than telling them you used your quirk at work. They would probably get mad at you―the reality wasn’t a conventionally accepted thing.

“I think..I’m just a naturally tired person. And those guys freaked me out a bit, so...I don’t know. I guess it was just a combination of those things?”

You waited in heavy silence for a response. For once it seemed that they were thinking before they spoke. Hizashi especially liked to say whatever came to mind, at least that’s what you thought. Shouta wasn’t as impulsive, but he never hesitated this long. And so when he finally spoke, you weren’t sure whether to be relieved due to the occurrence or not―given what he said.

“If you think we believe that excuse for a second then you're very wrong, (y/n). You might be tired, but we know there’s more to it than that. It’d be much easier if you’d just cooperate with us.”

Looking up was a bad idea, but your head moved on its own. While Shouta looked as menacing as ever, his partner looked...nervous. You’d never seen him that way, like he was suffering just as much as you were. Perhaps it was a side effect of this irrational concern he felt, realistically you didn’t care. But the feeling transferred to you and slowly the pit in your stomach grew bigger and bigger with each passing second. You weren’t sure how much longer you’d be able to hold out.

“Please just tell us the truth, songbird. You’re not in trouble, we promise. It’s just―we can tell there’s somethin’ off with ya.” If your hands were on the table you wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to hold them, knowing of his tendencies.

You looked back and forth between the two, eyes silently pleading for them to just drop it altogether.

Of course, you knew they wouldn’t.

Maybe you should just run while you had the chance?

“R-really, I’m okay. Listen, dinner was...really good, but I think I should be going n―”

“You’re not leaving.”

The erasure hero was in no mood to put up with you dancing around the topic at hand anymore. He brought you here to find out what the fuck was going on with you and he’d be damned if you just denied them that truth any longer. Hizashi had no complaints―maybe wincing at his partner’s harshness a little, but otherwise was in it just as much as him.

The blond could bring the tension down a little though, mostly for your sake. “Are ya not gettin’ enough sleep? Shou’ knows a pretty good doctor that helps with that kinda thing if that’s the problem. We just wanna make sure you’re being safe is all, sunshine.”

Really? Because this feels more like an interrogation than a friendly discussion over your habits.

Perhaps it would be better to just cut your losses and tell them. You didn’t want to, if they deemed fit they could be the reason you lose your job. Your boss didn’t know that you used your quirk―nobody did. It was how you stayed ahead of everyone else. Technically it was like cheating, having such a big advantage over your coworkers in your line of work. But where was the harm? You were making people happy, there’s nothing wrong with that.

But just like before you left your apartment to be accompanied to their house, your mind decided it was a perfectly fine and healthy idea to come up with countless ‘what ifs.’ One of which included the possibility that yes, you would be fired for this small transgression. Even though it was unlikely, it still plagued your mind with dread. The shop was where you got validation―a place where you knew you were doing something right. You didn’t want it taken away from you.

But you had to tell them. They were waiting. There was no way out of this.

“M-my quirk…”

How were you supposed to explain this?

“What about your quirk?” Shouta was not giving you any room to weasel your way out of this.

Your eyes remained trained on the abandoned dinner in front of you. “I use it...at work, sometimes. It just makes me a little tired I guess.”

The erasure hero didn’t give his counterpart the chance to ruin the moment, knowing you were susceptible to revealing more information with another push. “Only sometimes?”

God, it felt like you were being shamed for what you did.

“A lot...I use it a lot.” Admitting it felt hard even though you were more than aware of your behaviour. It was their reaction that made the task so difficult.

“What’s your quirk, sweetheart?”

You looked at your hands―the tools that made the fruits of your labour possible. “I...um―it’s called Nurture. I can sort of...put life back into plants? It just makes them healthier, but doing it puts strain on my body. Makes me a bit sleepy, but it isn’t usually that bad…”

Shouta gave a quiet hum in response before continuing, sitting up in his chair a bit. “Well―I wouldn’t call that a bit. No point in trying to downplay it now, just be honest.”

It was probably supposed to sound lightly encouraging, but he sounded more like he was making a demand.

A demand in which you had no choice but to meet.

“Okay...it can be a little much sometimes. B-but Friday was the exception, I had to use it a lot the night before so...the exhaustion just caught up with me.” You left out the part where the emotional response from being cornered was likely a bigger problem than the sorry state your general physique was in.

Hizashi sighed, and it would appear that the two were relieved to finally get the explanation they were looking for. You however were not in the same state. You were vulnerable, and inwardly you prayed they would leave well enough alone.

The erasure hero took a sip of his drink, and you caught the men exchanging glances before the blond spoke up. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You didn’t respond. Just kept staring at your hands.

“What you’re doing isn’t illegal or anything, but it’s still not something you should be doing. I’m sure you know what could happen to your career if this kind of information got out.”

At that your eyes shot up, looking desperately in Shouta’s direction. “Please don’t tell my boss. He doesn’t know, and I’m not hurting anyone by using it. Please just―I don’t know what I’d do without my job.” You glanced back to Hizashi, looking like your words were hurting him as well.

“I don’t know (y/n), you’re not exactly being responsible with your quirk. Just because you’re not hurting anyone else doesn’t mean it’s safe to disregard your own health.” Shouta must enjoy judging you when you were at your lowest, seeing as he tended to do it an awful lot.

Just when you thought this night couldn’t get any worse, it did. It got so much worse.

You weren’t able to form a rebuttal, but it didn’t matter when Hizashi beat you to it. “Listen, we don’t want to do that songbird, honestly. How ‘bout we make another deal instead…”

What in god’s name could they want from you.

“W-what kind of deal?” How you wished they’d just let you walk free, unburdened by their presence like you planned on before coming here. It’s like they wanted to watch you squirm uncomfortably with anticipation.

Finally the blond continued. “Simple. Ya try not to use your quirk as much and we don’t tell management!”

Shouta added his take, “And you have to keep coming over for dinner so we can make sure you’re holding up your end. It’s a fair proposition. Take it or leave it.”

It was unbelievable. Of course you didn’t want to comply―they were blackmailing you for christ’s sake. But one problem did stand out, “What are you guys getting out of this? I―I’m just not quite sure I understand.”

The erasure hero sighed, “Call it peace of mind―lets us know you're not on the verge of death while enjoying your company at the same time.”

Clearly they couldn’t see how much you weren’t enjoying their company. Or maybe they did and simply didn’t care. How they thought this was a fair deal was beyond you, and it didn’t exactly matter either way.

You didn’t want to admit it―to agree to their ‘deal,’ but you had no choice. They’d effectively cornered you. At this point you could only hope they would get bored enough of your presence to eventually call it off. You wouldn’t be able to stop using your quirk, it would break your heart not to. You got so much out of using it―emotionally at least.

They might not know if you were lying now if you agreed to it, but having to see them again wouldn’t be good news. Was it that obvious what your quirk did to your health? Honestly speaking, you’d never really evaluated whether or not you looked worse for wear. All this time you just acted without thinking of the effects. Perhaps there was physical evidence―but it was something you would have to evaluate later.

Not that you personally cared whether or not you actually looked tired. There was always makeup for that if you were feeling self-conscious. Mostly, you needed to see what you had to do to fool them into thinking you were complying.

At least they were patient when it came to this response, and eventually you did manage to give one. With great reluctance, you spoke. “I guess...if that’s what you want. But I―”

“Then it’s settled! We can keep meetin’ up like this every Saturday from now on!” Hizashi was positively beaming at the prospect, you however were not as excited.

Every fucking Saturday?

The thought of having to experience the same god awful stress made your heart sink. They should be sick of seeing your face by now. All you’ve done for them was place an immense burden, both on their wallets and apparently their minds as well. It didn’t matter if they were worried about you―they would have to get over it.

You would play along for now, mostly for the sake of your sanity.

It was simple. You just had to convince them that you were keeping up your end of the deal. It wasn’t impossible. You would be fine.

Shouta stood up from his chair, muttering an “Alright, then” as he did so. You watched almost helplessly as he began gathering the bowls and glasses off the table, stacking them in a neat pile.

You would've offered to help, but they’d already taken enough from you tonight. Realistically, you doubted it was even possible to form a coherent sentence. Your mind was too muddled with what was currently an inescapable despair, alongside of a slowly kindling detestment for the two men.

The audacity they held to put you in such a position would be impressive if it weren’t also mildly disturbing at the same time. For heroes, they seemed wildly unaware of how oppressive their behaviour was.

For the time being you were under their every whim and command. It wasn’t ideal, but it was something you would have to put up with.

Just enough for them to see you were okay. That you were capable of functioning even when your quirk posed certain unpleasant obstacles.

And in your mind of calculating escapes, you just barely registered that the two had gone back to their discussion of life events that you’d never come close to relating to. Hizashi still being the more dominant, relaxed as his partner cleaned the dining table.

The clock ticking away on the wall read 5:57 pm. You wondered how much longer they’d keep you here, seeing as they never made a point to ask you what you were comfortable with anyways―probably planning on doing the same with when they thought you should be free to go for the night.

End of Part 5

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taglist: @roseloverofpastels @shinsous-eye-bags @tjhonoluluprezstitch626 @pekusofixus @riarora @glitterypinkkitty @elektraeriseros @hadesnewpersephone @axolotleyeliner

[butter3drainbows]

La squadra brainrot and my endless love for children and romantic comedies got me thinking. So imagine this, single dad squadra falling in love with their child's kindergarten teacher 🥺

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺❤️✨ My fav F/Os as D-D-daddies??

Get ready for some UwU scenarios with La Squadra Dream Daddies asdgf

====================================================

Oooh ♥️♥️♥️ Melone would be the dad that tries to be around the school whenever his work schedule allows it and is known as the parent who announces his presence loudly from the entrance 😂 Melone's attraction for his kid's teacher is poorly hidden with him visibly perking up whenever they bring his child to him. Every day he would take their hands, look them in the eye and earnestly thank them for taking such good care of his child when he is away. His child is really talkative and will have nothing but good things to say about their teacher when Melone asks them about their day. In the middle of his kid's excited recounting of their day, the child will share how they wish that their teacher would always be around the house and that they should marry their papa right away because he really reaaaally likes them. Melone would be thrown off the loop at being outed so suddenly but will be given hope when his child's teacher laugh and say, "Well it's a good thing we're both single then aren't we?"

I always like to imagine Risotto having a daughter that easily cries 😂. Idk, just the thought of an intimidating tank of a man crouching in front of his tiny daughter while rubbing her tears away with his thumbs or letting her hiccup over his shoulders makes my heart howl like there's no tomorrow 😭💖💖 Her teacher will follow Risotto's example and let them sob into their shoulders one rainy afternoon, swaying her from side to side and reassuring them that her daddy is on his way to pick her up soon and was just probably late because of the rain. Seeing his daughter quickly be soothed by their nurturing personality has Risotto's attraction for them increase two-fold. He knew then and there that he wanted them to be a part of his and his daughter's lives.

Illuso will be the dad who finds himself confiding his troubles as a single dad to his kid's teacher and while he sometimes feels like he's being such a burden by sharing his problems, the teacher always reassures him that it is absolutely ok and even encourages him to talk about it with them if he's comfortable enough to share more. The fact that his kid absolutely loves them was just a bonus. They were perfect. They made it so easy for Illuso to fall head over heels with their patience, empathy and kind smile. He's never felt such warmth from his former lover before and for them to provide it to him so selflessly makes him yearn for something more after being alone for so long.

Pesci's child is a born trouble-maker and stories of their antics are something that both he and the teacher would have in common to talk and laugh about during PTAs or in afternoons when Pesci would allow his kid to play longer in the playground after kindergarten hours. They will be quick to give him reassurance, even scold him when he feels like he's not doing enough for his kid to be a well-rounded person. Every kind word that leaves their lips is a strike to the heart for Pesci. They're so incredibly nice to him, who wouldn't fall in love with someone like them?

In Formaggio's case, he would fall in love with them the moment he lays their eyes on them. They look so much like his late lover it almost makes him believe that they were still alive. It was hard for him to keep himself away with the memory of his late beloved flashing with their every move when he observes them from afar. Their personalities can not be any more different though, and that alone snaps Formaggio out from his delusions that his late lover wil everl come back to him. He was glad he met them though. He can finally let go of the pain eating away inside him from losing the love of his life.

For Ghiaccio it all begins with his grandmother's recipe for her special almond cookies. He had his son take some as snacks to school and had apparently shared some to his teacher. His teacher loved the cookies and asked Ghiacco's son if his dad was open to sharing his recipe with them. Ghiacco was hesitant at first saying, "I'm not sharing your nonna's amaretti recipe just like that" but had a change of heart when his kid handed him a handwritten authentic recipe for Mustazzoli with a note at the bottom that says, "Perhaps a trade then?". And so began their quiet correspondence of shared recipes and personalized notes behind detailed instructions and drawn directions for where to get the best produce.Like Melone's kid, Ghiacco's feelings for the teacher will also be unceromoniously revealed by his son, but this time in the form of a drawing depicting him and his son's teacher sending love letters, as the child would call it, with little Ghiacco as the messenger of love. "Would you like to have dinner sometime?" read Ghiaccio on the latest shared note given to him by his son. He quickly looked at the wide-eyed child suspiciously, knowing how he may have had a hand in this sudden turn of events being how smart he is for his age. He shuffled through his Olaf bagpack and pulled out a piece of paper that had a number written on it before saying, "I got her telly number so you guys can call each other. Y'know like normal people."

Prosciutto probably didn't realize it but he fell in love with his daughter's teacher the moment he saw them give her a pep talk on her first day of school and actually manage to convince her to have him leave her. His daughter had always been fussy and it takes a lot of patience and time to actually get her settled for her to listen to him. They, however had managed to do this is seconds with their cheerful smile and soft words. The moment he realized he was falling was when this same teacher came up to his car window urgently tapping his window and asking him politely (but with barely concealed fury) to step outside when they caught him "smoking"(but really it was just mint candy that resembled cigarettes lol) in the car with his daughter in it. Prosciutto couldn't even put a word in at the flurry of words that left their pretty mouth. He didn't mind being told off by them though, it was obvious how much they cared for their students with how many times their concern for his daughter's well-being was brought up in their tirade. When he was finally able to explain that the cigarette was in fact candy, he couldn't help but chuckle at their mortified expression and the embarassment that came after. This person was interesting, he decided, he wonders if they were still single.

Gelato fell in love with his daughter's teacher the moment they mistook him as her kidnapper. He appreciates someone who knows how to fight and boy were they good at keeping him immobilized. Only when his daughter started crying to "let his papa go" did they release him from their chokehold. He was sure he was going to bruise from that. The redness on their cheeks and the hurried apologies only added to his attraction for them. How cute.

Sorbet also experiences the same situation as Gelato and will fall in love with the feisty teacher at first sight. He will commend anyone who has the ability to pin him face down on the ground being a professional in MMA himself and will be highly amused that the one person who was able to do so was his kid's innocent-looking kindergarten teacher. Looks to him like his kid is gonna have another person to call mama.

[kyokkou]

𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐢’𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫.

1. alias/name: haya. that’s all ur gettin. >:)  2. birthday: may 1   3. zodiac sign: taurus sun / pisces moon / scorpio rising 4. height: 5′9″ 5. hobbies: i’m a fucking weeb as u can tell :))) but i also like cars and drawing when i’m not reading about history. sometimes i play video games but never games people actually like / can play with other people. f.  6. favorite colors: blue is my ultimate fave but i’ve had history with purple, and i really love the vibrant colors of sunrise and the pastels of sunset.  7. favorite books: this is hard since i haven’t read a fiction book in a long time so “Out” by Natsuo Kirino. I read it once for a class and reread it every so often when I forget how it ends. Also recently I read Lychee Light Club, which was a visual novel so idk if it counts but I keep thinking about it.... otherwise it’s just a lot of history books that would surprise absolutely no one. 8. last song listened to: Hitchock - Yorushika 9. last film or show watched: Mother (2009 jdrama)  10. inspiration for muse: the 菊菊 tag on pixiv and general history. eventually add in rokuchounen to ichiya monogatari and okami and now we have This mess. i saw aph japan and said “hmm let me just add (spills tons of history) oh god oh fuck” in 2012 and they’ve grown up a lot since then. 11. story behind url: 旭光 means “rays of the rising sun.” also, i swear i didn’t plan this, but that’s how akimitsu’s name is written.

tagged by: @diimsum​ :)))))) ♥♥♥ TY I APPRECIATE IT !!  tagging: if you haven’t been tagged yet, now you are.

[smoljamswrites]

all is fair in love & war | bts x reader | chapter 4

pairing: bts x female reader

genre: mafia!au, series fic, angst, fluff, (eventual) smut

warnings for this chapter: abuse, fat levels of angst (but then there’s a fluffy part that’s then killed by more angst), swearing, degradation, mentions of stalking, y/n cries? is this a potential trigger, idk? 

a/n: just an fyi, incase it isn’t clear, the italics in paragraphs are thoughts. Plus, I apologise if this chapter seems a little jumpy in terms of moving from scene to scene - but it’s just so I could get the story to progress quicker, so I can get into the real meat of it. Oh and I probably butchered the Korean street name system thingy so if you could excuse that, that’d be great. Thanks for reading and supporting this fic! I love you all!!

fic playlist is here x

Clutching at your hair, Sunny roughly drags you into the living room. To say she was livid would be an understatement. The anger darkened her eyes, her eyebrows furrowed, and jaw clenched as she brought you to a stop – right in front of Yunseo and some of the other members. She had phoned them when you begged her to not to tell anyone about the guy in the car, declaring you had a “contact within the outside world”. They had sent a car to pick you both up at that moment, and her hands haven’t left your hair since – gripping onto it so hard, making your eyes water.

Yunseo sits directly in the middle of the leather sofa, his crew of Syndicates placed strategically around the room. They’re expecting me to run…interesting. You’re pushed down onto the floor, your knees harshly colliding with the solid laminate.

Before you even lift your head to meet his eyes, Yunseo has already began to raise his voice. “Who was the guy, Y/N?!” his voice was filled with hatred, fires of fury smouldering his narrowed eyes. You look down onto the floor, shaking your head, not saying a word. Why the fuck would I tell them Jungkook’s name? They’re gonna have to try a lot harder than this, you muse.

A sinister chuckle escapes past Yunseo’s lips, and it makes your stomach churn. You know it isn’t long until they start getting violent, but that isn’t going to make you cave. Not yet. “Listen, we can do this the easy way – you tell me his name, how you know him and what was said between you two – or we can do this the hard way” at that Yunseo rises from his seat and the other members follow suit to loom over you.

You’re on your knees, head lifted to meet eyes with your intimidators. Your eyes wander to Juwon, and you find yourself surprised he isn’t playing with your hair or finding another way to place his grimy hands on you. A smirk toys on his lips, liking the way you look through your eyelashes at him, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Sick fucking bastard! Your blood is boiling; you are sick and tired of being treated like this. Like you’re just a possession to them. Adrenalin hits you, and it makes you feel alive. Your heart is beating so fast, you feel as if it going to fly straight out of your chest. Standing up, you notice for the second time this week you are feeling yourself getting brave.

“No. Why don’t you fucking listen to me? Fuck you! I hate all of you! Why didn’t you just kill me, huh? Kill me! Go on, I dare you!” the adrenalin is flowing through your blood, and it feels like you can’t control your limbs, which is why it is such a surprise to you as much as it is to your ‘superiors’ when you lay your hands on Juwon. Putting all the force you could muster; you use both hands to push at his figure. Due to Juwon not expecting this, he falls back, rage evident on his face as soon as he reaches the ground. Within the same millisecond, your body is dragged back by somebody else, arms restricted, and you don’t even wince when Yunseo’s fists come flying towards your face. You don’t know whether it’s the surge of adrenalin or if its because you’re used to the pain by now, but you just feel numb to his actions. Each punch, to both your face and body, sends signals to your brain that makes it feel like your internal organs should be bursting – but yet you don’t seem to feel a thing. It’s like you’re unconscious, but you can see everything that is happening. All you can feel is your heart beating loudly in your ears, and it’s almost deafening.  

“Who the fuck was it, you dirty fucking slut?!” Yunseo’s spit flies at your face, amazingly faster than the blows.

It is at this moment, that your body realises what is happening. Your mind snaps back into reality and every hit sends a painful jolt through your body. Your face is soaked from the tears, and you’re screaming, finding it hard to hear your own screams over their harsh words. You need this done with, and you need it done with now.

“F-fine I’ll tell you! Just don’t hit me again, please!” you whimper out. The member who was propping up your body lets go, leaving your limp form to fall to the ground. You can hear snickers coming from around the room. They really think they’ve won, huh? Cute.

“I-I met him at ‘Angels’ and to be honest I don’t really know him. But for the past few days, he seemed really obsessed with me. When I saw h-him outside the shop, it creeped me out, I didn’t expect him to be there, and I lost my cool, I guess.” You begin, trying to simultaneously catch your breath, “I went up to his car and literally asked him why he was following me. And when he wouldn’t answer me, I called him a creep and left. That was when I saw Sunny there.”

They all hold the same look on their face – like they want to believe you but they’re not quite sure yet. Your throat feels on fire from all the screaming and crying, but you find it in you to continue, wanting to finish your web of lies perfectly, “I didn’t want to tell you because I see the way you hurt people, and he seemed like an ordinary guy, just too caught up in his own horny feelings and I didn’t want you to hurt him because of that. I guess I felt scared for him.”

The Sin Syndicate members all look towards their leader, awaiting their new order, and you do the same, praying that they believe your story. Yunseo scratches at his stubble on his jaw, seemingly deciding on his next step. He addresses the members first, not bothering to look in your direction, “We’ll keep an eye out for him – Sunny you know what he looks like right? Perfect.” And then he spares a glance at you, “As for you, get to bed, I don’t want to see you right now.”

Your legs shake and your whole body feels extremely sore. Clutching at your own waist, as if you were stopping your intestines from falling out, you drag yourself to your room. You flop down onto your bed, head pounding. Yet all you can think about is Jungkook’s safety – what will happen if they find him? God I shouldn’t even care about him, he’s a fucking stalker! But yet you still reach into your drawer fifteen minutes later to retrieve your phone, deciding on warning Jungkook.

Fuck. Your phone shows you that you have already had missed calls and many text messages from him. You move your thumb to press the correct button to get onto the messaging app, then instantly press again to pull up the conversation between you and Jungkook.

Jungkook: please don’t be mad! I can explain, I promise. It’s just not something that I can explain quickly x [19:26]

Jungkook: ‘You have missed calls from ‘Jungkook’ at 19:29 and 19:41. This is a free call alert.’

Jungkook: please don’t ignore me Y/N, it’s important that I know that you’re okay x [19:59]

Jungkook: ‘You have missed 3 calls from ‘Jungkook’. This is a free call alert’.

Jungkook: Just hear me out Y/N x [20:04]

You feel your heart fall to the pit of your stomach. You can tell Jungkook is worried about you and you hate that you made him concerned. But you still need to think about his actions, following you around is not okay. You have every right to feel mad. It’s because of him that you just got the beating of your lifetime!

You: I don’t understand how you’re eager to give me answers all of a sudden, when earlier you wouldn’t give them me!? What’s changed now? Finally worked out an excuse? [20:13]

He messages back relatively fast, which draws your mind back to feeling guilty for worrying him. Oh God! I still have to warn him!

Jungkook: I get that you’re mad but not replying for almost an hour after I last seen you isn’t funny! You had me so fucking worried! I literally thought the worst, okay! I thought something had happened to you. WTF?! As for the answers you want (and deserve) I will give them you, I promise. All you gotta do is meet with me because I need to explain things face to face, it’s easier. The situation is too complicated for me to rush the explanation or to type it out on text x [20:15]

Leaving isn’t a problem. It’s the making sure Jungkook remains safe and that he isn’t seen by any Sin Syndicate member that’s the issue.

You: I’d be happy to meet you so I could finally know wtf is going on, but I don’t know how I’m going to be able to. [20:16]

You know that you have to go; this could be your opportunity to explain to him that he needs to be careful – maybe you could explain to him the full situation…can you trust him with that?

You: Okay so I have an idea. But for it to work, you gotta be able to work with me or this could end terribly, trust me! (I’ll explain later!) Make sure you are by your phone all day tomorrow, if you can, and when I have the chance to meet you, I’ll message you to let you know. I don’t know what time it will be but it will definitely be tomorrow because I really need to tell you something too! [20:18]

Jungkook: deal. x [20:18]

Not wanting to be the cause of his fretting again, you ensure to message him one last time before turning your phone off and getting some well-deserved sleep.

You: Goodnight x [20:19]

--------------------------------------------------------

You haven’t been able to concentrate all morning. You haven’t got a performance on main stage today, but you still had to show up for work, especially with what had happened the night before. So you’ve been preoccupying yourself with speaking to clients and helping the waiters and waitresses. There is no way you’ll be practicing today, let alone performing for everyone. Currently, you’re sat at the bar, swirling your tiny umbrella around in your glass.

Getting yourself out of bed this morning was a nightmare. As soon as you sat up and swung your legs over the side of the bed, it had sent an aching pain right through your entire being. Your head felt too heavy to carry from the offset, and all you wanted to do was to lie back down again. But you knew you couldn’t. If you wanted everything to go smoothly you knew you had to start moving.

You feel almost criminal – your phone being hidden in the fluffy slipper sock that your wearing, planning to sneak out for a while. The girls haven’t spoken to you yet, but they don’t miss the opportunity to send malicious glares in your direction. Not that you want them to speak to you; you know they hate you and the feeling is mutual. Just then someone places their hand on your back, and you jump at the feeling.

“Hey hey, what’s wrong? You’re all jumpy…is everything okay?” a familiar voice begins to calm your worries, and the way his comforting tone spills past his lips with ease sends a foreign sensation to your core. You move to meet his eyes, and a concerned look adorns his face.

“I’m fine Jin. Just got a lot on at the moment, I guess.” You decide to play it safe, considering you blurted out probably more than you should have done, the last time. But still, his evident worry doesn’t fade.

Taking a seat next to you at the bar, he ghosts his hand over yours- almost like he was deciding whether he should take your hand in his, but then chose against it. “Is there anything that I can help with?” You snap your head in his direction. Oh my god, what a fucking genius!

Your emotions must have shown on your face, because his brows drew together like he was wondering what you could be thinking about.  

“Yes! Woah okay so,” you begin turning your body and bringing your hands together in excitement. Your voice instantly lowers as you speak again, “I need to meet a, well uhm-, a friend. But the problem is, I can’t leave. It’s super important that I meet with him today, so maybe, if you could help me that would be amazing! I’m thinking that you could wait half an hour or so, then request a private dance from me? And that way then they’ll think I’m preoccupied elsewhere, meaning that I could leave? What do you think?”

“Yeah sure, I’d be happy to help.”

---------------------------------------

Making yourself look busy with other clients for the next 30 minutes was harder than you had anticipated. You struggled to focus on the conversations you were having with them, as your mind kept flitting back to your previous chat with Seokjin.

God he’s a lifesaver! I seriously owe him one.

After what seemed like centuries, Yunseo calls your name. Making your way to him, you tried to look as sheepishly as possible, knowing it’d be best to make this stunt look believable. “Y-yes sir?” Nice! Make him think you’re scared after yesterday.

He doesn’t bother to speak for long, evidently pissed at your antics this week, “A gentleman has offered me a pretty large sum of money to book two back-to-back private dance slots with you. I’d be an idiot not to accept, so you’ll be in there for an hour. Keep him happy.” And with that he’s gone. You have to look at the floor to prevent anyone watching from seeing the smile forming on your lips.

Entering the same private dance room as last time, you quickly shut the door and squeal as you make your way over to where Jin is sitting.

“You are currently my favourite person ever! You’ve given me a whole hour! You’re the best seriously!” You know you look like an idiot because you just can’t stop smiling. You pull out your phone from the side of your sock and begin to text Jungkook.

You: Hey, I’m okay to leave now, but I must be back before half one x [12:33]

Bringing your attention back onto Jin, a sudden realisation hits you. “Shit! You’re gonna have to hide for an hour while I’m gone!” The smile is instantly wiped off your face, as you prepare yourself for an annoyed Seokjin. Yet, he doesn’t appear annoyed at all.

Shaking his head and continuing to smile, he stands up, “I know. Don’t worry! If you wanted, I could drive you to wherever you needed to go to meet your friend?” he goofily shakes his car keys and you giggle.

------------------------------

Sitting in the passenger seat of his car, you are speechless. This dude must be earning the big bucks if this is his own fucking Chevrolet Corvette! The shutting of Jin’s door brings you back to reality, “So where are we going?”

Oh right, duh. Removing your phone from your sock once more, you turn on the screen to read Jungkook’s message and position it so Jin can see.

Jungkook: okie dokie, do you know where the café is on Myeongnyun-ro? It’s only a few minutes away from Angels x [12:35]

“ahh right then, lets go!”

-----------------------------

Getting out the car and thanking Jin, you make your way towards the café door. Instantly you start fretting as Jungkook is nowhere to be seen. Sitting down at a booth, you begin to text him, but you’re interrupted by the door in front of you opening, making the little bell above it ding!

Jungkook walks through the door and you swear to God you stop breathing for a second. Your eyes trace his tall, well-built figure; from his chocolatey tousled hair down to his two-toned, bulky shoes. When his eyes meet yours, they instantly light up, and he moves his hand; gesturing for you to come over. As you get closer, the more nervous you feel. You notice the way he bites his bottom lip, and starts wringing his hands together, and that made you relax. He was just as nervous as you were. Reaching his figure, you took a deep breath, inhaling his scent. Your mind wanders to the night that you met, and a goofy smile overtakes your features.

“Hey, what drink would you like?” he says, nerves still evident in the way he spoke.

“You’re sounding like Mr. Persistent Bartender again” you giggle, proud of the way he visibly loosens up at the sound of your joke.

Jungkook lets out a chuckle, as he rolls his shoulders back, “Shut up, lemme buy you a drink” he whines. His voice cuts straight through your heart, sending warmth through your body. Yet you can’t let him give you another drink for free.

“No no it’s fine! I’m not thirsty. Don’t spend your money.” You reach to grab his arm, as he moves in direction of the employee standing at the till.

All your efforts go to waste when he shakes his head at you, dismissing your previous comment, “Hey, I’ll take a coffee and… she’ll have a hot chocolate.” You pull on his arm like a child and tell him you’re fine, but this only spurs him on further. A smirk sits on his lips as he continues, “and can the hot chocolate have whipped cream and marshmallows too please?” He looks down at your unimpressed face, and he coos ruffling your hair. God, you’re going to be the death of him!

“Would you like sprinkles too?” you hear the barista ask, but you’re too late to reject the sprinkles as Jungkook has already beaten you too it. And of course he says yes.

“That’ll be £7.85 please. And I must say, you guys are such a cute couple!” the barista gushes and you feel heat rise to your face. You peer over to Jungkook and see him giving her the money with the biggest smile on his face.

“Thanks! Keep the change.” Grabbing both of the drinks, Jungkook walks back to the booth, with you trailing behind him, embarrassed. You slide in the seat opposite him and he pushes the hot chocolate towards you. Sarcastically rolling your eyes, you move the cup towards your mouth to take a sip. It tasted so heavenly; you swear you could have orgasmed. Lifting your eyes from the cup to look at Jungkook, you see he’s already looking at you – and he’s looking at you expectantly.

“….what?”

“You first.” The two words sends you into a frenzy, reminding you of why you’re actually here. Fidgeting in your seat slightly, you remove eye contact as you think about how to tell him. Okay so you’re gonna have to never ever speak to me again because I don’t want you to die. So, it’s been nice knowing you! Thanks for the hot chocolate.

You cough, ensuring your voice still works before lowering your voice, “Okay so what I’m about to tell you is really serious. I’m not joking or lying or whatever. I really need you to believe me, okay? I’ve lied to you – I don’t live at a stupid dorm, and I don’t go to college. In fact, the only proper schooling I have ever had was only for 2 years and it stopped when I was like 5. And from then, ‘til the age of 11 I was home schooled, if you could even call it that.” You realise you’re rambling, and you quickly decide to get to the point, “I live with these people. They’re not really nice and they hurt people and sometimes they hurt me,” You don’t notice as you’re not looking at him, but Jungkook tenses at this admission. “they don’t let me have proper contact with anyone. And um- they saw you speaking to me yesterday. Well, Sunny did, and she told the others, and I’m so fucking sorry but they’re looking for you now. And well, I need you to delete my number, stop talking to me, and forget about me forever just so I know that you’ll be safe-“

Your little speech is cut off by a giggle, and your eyes dart up, finally, to meet his. Why the fuck does he find this funny? Does he think I’m joking? Furrowing your eyebrows together, your whispering voice harshens, “Guk, I’m being serious here! I can’t believe-“

His voice is considerably loud compared to your quietened tone, “Y/N calm down, I’m pretty sure I can handle Syndicate” Jungkook finds your state of confusion very amusing, as he rests his head on his hand and smiles right at you.

Before you can interrogate him on how he knows Sin Syndicate, he cuts you off, “My turn yeah?” he moves his hand to take a hold of yours, “I’ve been following you since you came to our club because I’ve been worried. We all have. And by we, I mean…Bangtan. I’m sure you’ve heard of us…” his eyes search yours and all he sees in return is pure panic. “Please hear me out! We don’t want to hurt you, I promise. Bangtan doesn’t hurt innocent people – we protect the innocent. All through my training, I was told the chilling story of the young girl, who had to be kidnapped due to a slip up in the Syndicate’s System, tortured not just by the grief of losing her family, but by the men who held her captive. When the new generation of Bangtan took over 7 years ago, we vowed to find that girl, and keep her safe. And here you are. You don’t need to worry about me, yeah? Syndicate doesn’t know our true identities, and it’s gonna stay that way, right?”

Your heart is thumping so loud, you’re certain he can hear it, “…oh yeah. I won’t tell anyone, I promise” your voice is barely a whisper. You feel so fucking numb, it feels like you’re dreaming.

“So, do you have any questions?”

Do you? “Um, I don’t know, my mind’s a little blank at the moment. This is a lot to take in. Um- do you kill people then?”

He lets out a breath, and gently moves his hand to intertwine his fingers with yours, “not in the way Syndicate does. Syndicate will kill anything that breathes, just to make a point. We kill people that are like Sin Syndicate. Does this make sense?” he looks up from your hands to meet your gaze, and you quickly nod, “The best person to have explain to you all the technical stuff is our leader Namjoon.”

Now it’s your turn to divert your gaze again, as you ask a question you really don’t want the answer too, “ahh, so you all have roles then?”

“Yeah.” Gulp. ”I’m Bangtan’s assassin.”

You immediately tense. Assassin? Like the one in charge of killing people? Like the guy who murdered my family? No way. I can’t do this.

“Y/N-“

You flinch at the sound of his voice, standing up and instantly ripping your hand away from his. You feel sick to your stomach. “I gotta go, they’ll be wondering where I am” you say quickly, trying to blink back the tears that were starting to form. And just like that you exit the café and leave Jungkook behind, wondering what on earth he’s just done.

---------------------------------------

You enter through one of the fire exits at the back of the club and head straight for the toilets. Running into a cubicle, you quickly lock the door behind you and sit on the closed seat. The tears that you had held back were now escaping, causing sobs to rush past your lips. With your head in your hands, tears drip through your fingers, onto the tiles below. Your breathing hitched as you hear his confession again.

‘I’m Bangtan’s assassin.’

Thud! Thud! Thud! You’re interrupted by a banging on the stall door.

“Y/N is that you?” the voice called, and you recognise it to be Grace’s.

“..yeah..”

A breathy laugh sounds out into the room, “good! We thought you did a runner!”

You stay in the cubicle for a while longer – only coming out when you know Grace has left. Letting the door swing behind you, you head straight to the sink to wash your face.

------------------------------

Meanwhile, Jungkook is walking aimlessly around the city. Filled to the brim with rage and self-loath, he is wandering various streets, the only company he has is his thoughts.

Why the fuck did I tell her that I’m an assassin? I’ve fucked everything up. Now what’s she gonna do, huh? She could snitch on us all, which is unlikely but not impossible. Or she could cut contact with me. Either way, the guys are gonna be pissed. Oh god, what if she got caught heading back? What if they’re beating her right now? I swear to God if I find-

“OI!” someone yells from behind him, making him instantly turn to find out who’s shouting. Two guys and one girl stalk towards him – is that the Sunny girl?  They head straight towards him, but Jungkook’s never been one to back down from a fight.

“Yep, that’s him boys. Get him!” Sunny remains in her spot, about 3 metres away from Jungkook. She crosses her arms as she watches the drama unfold.

The two men lunge for Jungkook, but it’s him that gets the first punch. Hitting one of them, they stumble back, whilst the other slams Jungkook, head first, into some near by shutters. Punching the man in the gut, Jungkook gets his own back; but it’s not long until the duo gets the upper hand. Jungkook is left in a bad shape, as he slides down the shutters. The 3 Syndicates laugh menacingly as they leave – unaware of who they’ve just laid their hands on.

Pulling his phone out from his pocket, he quickly dials the number he was searching for.

“Hyung...?”

next chapter update: Wednesday 19th February 2020 9pm gmt

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