#if anyone remembers i said they might not make it to the final cut for my film but here we are !

[hychlorions]

athena and apollo are making it out alive 😭✊

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

The Alley (and Your Boyfriend?)

Minors, ageless and blank blogs do not interact. Smut written with AFAB reader in mind. ~2.8k words

Jason Todd is your ex-boyfriend. Kind of. You dated, yeah, sure. But it was in high school, years ago now. You had moved away before the school year had finished, and both of you agreed to remain friends, to keep in touch.

Life had different plans for both of you. The last time you had been in Gotham was for his funeral, so you think you deserve some leeway if you're staring at the man across the bar who looks just like him. Well, not exactly like him.

You're supposed to be celebrating your new job in Gotham, the apartment you've finally unpacked with your friends, but his eyes.

You could never forget the color of Jason Todd's eyes. Not when he was your first everything. Not when you know how his eyes would glint before he stole a kiss. How they would shine as he whispered sweet nothings and pretty promises.

(Okay, so maybe he was more to you than you're willing to admit. Maybe he wasn't just kind of your boyfriend.)

You'd probably be lost in thought over the color of his eyes for the rest of night, if his gaze didn't happen to meet yours.

Heat spreads across your face, and you duck your head. Shit. He caught you staring. The big, attractive man across the bar who has the eyes of your dead ex-boyfriend caught you staring.

That's fine. Mortifying, yes, but you quickly focus back on whatever your friends are talking about, trying to play it off.

You're finishing your drink, hoping he brushed you off, when a low voice cuts in, "Can I buy you another drink?"

Your eyes snap up to meet Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. Your train of thought halts to a stop, he's ever prettier up close.

Before you've even managed to find your words, your friends are pushing you up and out of your seat, scrambling over each other to agree that he can absolutely buy you a drink.

He tilts his head a little at you, feet firmly planted against the ground as he waits for you to answer, "Is that a yes from you, doll?"

"I– yes. Thanks," You stumble out, and you might have gone a little weak in the knees at his grin.

He guides you over to the bar, and holds up two fingers as the bartender comes over. "Whiskey, and whatever they want."

You ask for a refill of your drink and sit beside him at the bar before introducing yourself.

He raises an eyebrow at you, "I'm Jason."

"My ex was named Jason," You blurt out, then wince. That's probably not what anyone wants to hear when they're introducing themselves. And it's definitely not what they want to hear while trying to pick someone up at a bar.

He hums thoughtfully, "I don't remember breaking up with you."

You blink at him, is that some kind of a pick-up line? "No, I meant, I really dated someone named Jason in high school."

He grins at you, "I know. I was there."

You frown a little, "Like in the same class?"

He laughs. It's a really pretty sound, if you weren't so confused, you would have swooned, "No, doll. Don't tell me you don't recognize me?"

Your gaze hardens, "If this is some kind of a joke–"

He says your name, effectively cutting you off, "It's me."

"He died," You murmur, so quiet it almost gets lost under the beat of the music.

He shrugs, and pushes your drink towards you as the bartender sets it down, "I got better."

"Prove it," You retort, fingers tapping the glass of your drink. You're this close to up and leaving. It makes your stomach churn, not knowing what game this man is playing.

He gives you a familiar, lopsided grin, "Prove that I got better?"

You scoff and go to stand up, but you waver at how he actually seems upset over it.

"Hey, hey, wait," he protests, holding out an arm to block you from leaving, "We had our first kiss in the back of Wayne Manor, in that old gazebo covered in vines. You asked me out because I was so obviously head over heels for ya, but I was too scared to ask. You said you'd wait for me when your family moved, and I said I'd wait for you too."

Your breath hitches at his rambling, it's–all of it is true. Memories you held close to your chest but never let yourself relive because of how much they hurt, the bittersweetness of it all. "Jason," You breathe out.

He relaxes, and smiles at you, "Yeah."

"How are you..." You trail off, taking in every inch of him. How much he's grown. How much he's changed.

He rubs the back of his neck, "It's, uh, a long story. It's not very nice either."

You nod slowly, "We don't have to talk about it."

He looks genuinely surprised, "We don't?"

"No, it's just good to, you know, see you," You tell him. It's the truth, whatever story he's carrying, whatever events brought him here, doesn't really matter right now. Not as long as he's alive and in front of you.

"It's good to see you too," Jason tells you, and you feel butterflies when he reaches over to touch your thigh, "Hey, am I really your ex?"

The absurdity of the question makes you want to laugh, "It has been a while since we talked, Jason."

You do giggle when he actually pouts at you, "You said you'd come back to Gotham for me one day."

"I am back in Gotham," You point out, "Got an apartment here and everything."

Interest sparks in his eyes, "Yeah? You're staying around here?"

You hum noncommittally, "In Gotham at least."

It surprises you, how easy it is to slip back into a flowing conversation with him. You reminisce about your shared past, he asks you what you've been up to, how your life has been, and before you know it, your drinks are empty and the bar is informing you of it's last call.

"Can I walk you home," Jason asks, hovering at your side, "or call you a ride?"

Your friends had long since told you they were leaving, and you have the urge to make this night last a little longer. It may be selfish, to want to stay in sight of those eyes, but you let yourself be selfish, "Walk me home?"

The way his eyes sparkle tells you you made the right choice.

You really do mean for him just to walk you home. So you're not exactly sure how you ended up making out with your ex-boyfriend in a dirty alley way.

It makes your head spin, how his hands dig into your waist to tug you closer. How he chases your mouth every time you pull back to suck in a breath.

It's desperate, needy, and you want to keep your fingers curled into the cool leather of his jacket forever. Jason crowds your space, backing you towards the wall, he trails kisses down your jaw, occasionally nipping at your skin to leave pretty, bruised marks.

"Wait–" You start, digging your heels into the ground.

He pauses, and pulls back, "Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't meant to–"

"No!" You practically shout, not wanting him to misunderstand, "it's just– the wall is dirty," You finish weakly.

He blinks, then grins at you, "Is that all you're worried about, doll? Just the wall?"

You nod, sheepish as you fidget with the zipper of his jacket.

He hums thoughtfully and kisses the crown of your head, "I got something for ya," he murmurs, tugging off his leather jacket.

Before you can ask what he's doing, he drapes the coat over your shoulders, and guides your arms through the sleeves, "There, better?"

"Better," You echo, much more willing to let him push you against the wall, to let him suck your pulse and press his hands under your clothes. The leather is soft, smells like him, and the bricks behind you don't even register as he presses against you.

You're both eager, both grasping at fabric and skin. Your eyes light up, when as you're licking a stripe up his neck, Jason tilts his head back and moans.

It's a noise you want to hear again, and when you take his ear between your teeth, you're rewarded with another sweet sound.

Neither of you waste any time to push aside the clothes you're wearing. Half-dressed and panting, you fumble with his belt in the empty alley. He doesn't hesitate to hike your leg over his hip, pressing sloppy kisses along your jaw.

"You're sure about this," Jason asks, lips hovering over the juncture where your shoulder meets your neck.

"Yeah," You breathe out, tangling a hand in his hair to steady yourself, "Are you?"

"Never been more sure of anything," he says firmly, and bites down on your skin as if to seal his words as fact.

He's hungry, as he captures your mouth with another passionate kiss, and you're just as desperate and wanting. Desire pools in your gut as you grind your hips into his, voice pitching into a whine, "Please?"

The neediness in your eyes when you look up at him nearly makes his knees buckle, "Fuck, yes, doll. Whatever you want."

He's not one to make you ask again, and shamelessly presses a finger to your cunt. "Look at you," he breathes out, slowly pumping one finger in and out, gathering your wetness, "You're dripping."

You don't bother choking back the whine that escapes your lungs, only grab his hair tighter when he adds a second finger, carefully working you open for him.

His eyes, your breath catches, when his eyes seem to darken, coveting every reaction you have, every expression that flits across your face.

"Feels good, doll'" he coaxes, scissoring his fingers. When all you manage is a hazy nod, he grins and adds a third finger, curling them as he presses deeper, "C'mon, you can use your words."

"Jason, yeah, feels good," You answer, breathless and full of desire. You squirm, bucking your hips into his hand in an attempt to get him to move faster, "but I want you."

He hums thoughtfully, and presses the palm of his hand to your clit, grinding into the sensitive flesh. When your eyes flutter and your body clenches around him, he coos in approval.

"Good," he says fondly, pressing a kiss to your lips before slowly pulling his fingers away. You almost pout at the loss, but the sight of him lewdly licking off the remnants of you in his hand more than makes up for it.

Your jaw may have dropped, and you may have looked a little more dumbfounded than you're willing to admit, but any embarrassment turns to excitement when he lines his cock up to your weeping pussy.

Neither of you looks away as he pushes into you, inch by delicious inch. It turns you into a whimpering, groaning mess as you sigh out his name, eyes half lidded.

“Yeah, pretty,” He prompts, voice a low rumble as he watches you. He can't pick which sight he likes better, the way your eyes flutter, or the way you're greedily taking in everything he has to give.

He can’t help the smug smirk that spreads over his face when you mewl out his name, clearly delighted at the effect he has on you. “There you go, Doll. Let me hear you say my name again," He coos, trailing his free hand over your thigh to find your clit again.

You're eager to chant his name again when he starts to shallowly thrust between your legs. He moans when you clamp down around his dick, and it spurs him to move faster.

Jason groans deeply as he feels your body react, his eyes darkening with desire as he pushes into you again. You both breathe out a sigh of relief and ecstasy when you take him to the base of his cock.

"Good. Doing so good, doll," he mumbles, using all his self-control to hold the pressure against your cervix for a few moments, letting you adjust, before pulling back slightly.

You tug a little at his hair, it's addicting, how full he makes you feel, how desperate you are for more, "You can move, want you to move."

He hums, and seems more interested in moving his mouth along your jaw, biting and sucking his way down your neck to leave marks on your skin. Jason sucks a prominent bruise onto your freshly bitten skin until it’s pretty and bruised and all his.

You groan, and it only encourages him to drag his hand from your folds and pinch your nipple between his fingers.

"Jason," You protest, rolling your hips to try and entice him to finally move.

“Mhm. You like the sound of my name, pretty? You wanna keep saying it while I make you feel good?” He murmurs, his voice low and rough and breathless against your skin.

He starts to roll your nipple between his fingers, pinching and kneading the sensitive peak.

"Jason, move'" You whine, almost desperate. His eyes lock on your eyes, and you're completely lost to him.

His thumb gives your nipple one last swipe before he settles his hand between your thighs again, eyes raking over your face like he wants to memorize the expression of pleasure that’s taking over at the moment, "There you go, it sounds so perfect when you say my name like that."

His other hand squeezes your thigh affectionately, and before you can protest again, he pulls halfway out, savoring how you twitch around him. You cry out in pure pleasure when he thrusts back into your heat.

He swallows your cries with a kiss, and starts to pick up his pace, steady and relentless.

You can only tip your head back and moan, as you drag your nails along his scalp, panting and trembling under his grip.

“So goddamn good,” Jason mutters, pressing himself as deep as he can go with every movement. He starts to ramble your name, driving his cock against the spot that makes you gasp over and over.

He's relentless, all consuming and you almost miss it when he murmurs against your throat, "Not your ex now, am I?"

You curse, and shudder around him, clawing at his shoulder. It doesn't make his pace falter, if anything it drives him to push a little more, to move a little fast, to test your limits.

You feel his pleased smile form against your skin when you start to chant his name, breathless and needy and so, so close to the edge.

"There ya go, come for me, doll," he encourages, and when you do, when you soak his cock and sob his name, he fucks you through your climax.

He ruts into your fluttering hole until his own hips stutter, his fingers dig into your skin hard enough to leave bruises, and he cums inside of you. He rides out both of your releases, fucking his spend back into you even as it starts to leak and drip down your thighs.

Jason presses his forehead to yours, going still against you, his eyes dart over your face as you both pant, sticky, sweaty, and messy. He grins at you when you blink at him with glassy eyes, "You look good like this. I could see it every day, and it still wouldn't be enough."

You're not exactly sure where he finds the energy to praise you, but it makes you tuck your face against his shoulder as you catch your breath.

He presses a kiss to the side of your head, "Gonna take you home and run you a bath. Then, we're gonna cuddle till you fall asleep and I'll make you breakfast in the morning. Sound good?"

You whine softly when he pulls out of you, already mourning the feeling of him inside you, but you manage to nod.

True to his word, Jason carries you home and draws you a bath. You fall asleep with him curled around you, and when you wake up, the sound of him cooking breakfast makes its way to the bedroom.

And if you entice him to bend you over the counter before you eat, letting the food go cold, or suggest you show him just how well you fit in his lap, that's none one's business but yours.

It shouldn't surprise you, if you do encourage him to find out what you taste like on his tongue, that Jason never really leaves. Sooner rather than later, he'll make sure any use of the word 'ex' disappears from your lips.

[hyukalyptus]

something nice — sub!fem!reader x dom!yeonjun x servicetop!kai

cw. reader is in an established (open) relationship with yeonjun, cucking? (kai eats reader's pussy while yj watches lol), cunnilingus ofc, nipple play, orgasm denial, edging, pet names (baby, jjun), begging, mention of "punishment" but nothing's ever done, yeonjun and kai talk about reader and what they're gonna do to her (without her understanding—everything is consensual in the beginning, but read note below), let me know if there's anything else. notes. IMPORTANT: ok so the tea with this one. the idea here is that the reader doesn't speak korean well and kai and yj are speaking korean to kinda talk about the reader and what they're gonna do to her so she doesn't understand. nothing aggressive, just describing what to do to her body so she's kinda surprised? SO!! anything in italics is in korean. thats important!! also idk how i feel about this???? smut under cut. wc. 1.5K

“Did she give you a reason or did she just break up with you?” You’re eavesdropping on Yeonjun and Kai—not that they’re being very secretive. They’re talking about a woman Kai’s been seeing while you play video games and attempt to translate in your head, but you're not being too successful, catching a few words here and there. 

“She did say one thing,” Kai says hesitantly. “But it’s kinda embarrassing.”

“What is it?”

“Well,” he starts, scooting closer to Yeonjun to awkwardly whisper something to him, twiddling his thumbs, running his fingers through his hair.

“Oh,” Yeonjun chuckles. “That’s…man, if you get really good at that, you could date anyone.”

“What are you talking about?” You finally pause your game, curiosity getting the best of you. Looking up, Kai looks like you caught him stealing cookies from a cookie jar while Yeonjun tries to hold back a chuckle. The three of you exchange looks until Yeonjun rolls his eyes to bluntly say—

“Eating women out.”

“Yeonjun—!” Kai says, shoving his arm.

“What?” He chuckles, returning the shove. “I eat her out all the time. She knows what it is. She knows you eat pussy too.”

“But that’s why that woman broke up with you?” You ask. “Because you…you're bad at eating pussy?” He blushes, averting his attention to the floor while he clasps his hands together, nodding shyly.

“Be honest, babe—am I good at eating you out?”

Looking between the two of them, you sit up and say, “Yeah, you’re probably the best I’ve had, but we’re super compatible, you know? We’re, like, super in love. That makes a big difference sometimes.”

Holding back a cocky smile, he asks, “But, objectively, I’m pretty good, right?” You shrug and nod—really, he probably is the best you’ve ever had, but that’s another story. 

“What makes it good?” Kai asks.

Humming, you think before saying, “First, he doesn’t go straight for it.” Turning red and ears getting warm, you gush and— “Oh god, Kai, don’t look at me when I tell you this.”

“Ah, this is ridiculous,” Yeonjun exasperates. “Do you just wanna practice on her?” You both whip your heads in his direction. “If you’re comfortable with it, of course,” he says to you. “Just thought it might be helpful.” 

Oh, how did you end up here? Laying in Yeonjun's bed, clenching your thighs together out of nervousness. “Remember, this is kinda specific to her. Pay attention to what whoever you’re with wants.” Kai nods, kneeling at the foot of the bed.

“She already said this—” Yeonjun says. “I don’t go straight for it. I kiss her first, then make my way down there.”

“You want him to kiss me?”

He shrugs and says, “If you’re alright with that.”

“If you are,” you say, looking Kai in the eyes. Both of them can’t help but notice the confidence you seem to be exuding, especially compared to Kai. Trembling fingers reaching for your cheek, he looks at you for permission one final time. Finally leaning in, his lips press to yours. 

You’d forgotten what it was like to have a first kiss with someone. Kai’s kisses are different from Yeonjun’s. Kai’s are much more cautious, more careful—not necessarily shy, but careful. It quickly turns hot and heavy. But you remember Yeonjun is watching you, suddenly overtaken with bashfulness, you break the kiss to glance over at him. 

Him and that sinister smile. 

Turning back to Kai, you crash into his lips again, humming into his mouth and smirking to rub how much you're enjoying this in Yeonjun's face.  

“Touch her,” Yeonjun says. “Kinda slowly, but then a little more intense.” Kai does as he’s told, his hand dragging up your hip to squeeze your tits. “Under her shirt.” 

His hand on the outside of your bra feels new and exciting. Reaching around your back to unhook it, you break the kiss to take your shirt off, pulling at the hem of his. 

“Slow down for a second,” Yeonjun chuckles and Kai listens, placing gentle kisses to your collarbone. “Lick her nipples.” Swirling his tongue around your nipple, you gasp, reaching for his hair. “Pay attention to which one she likes better.”

Kai tests both, slyly licking between the two. After testing the waters, he picks correctly. You chuckle thinking about Yeonjun sitting on a chair across the room, smirking in approval. You could look for yourself, but you can’t bring yourself to open your eyes. 

“Keep licking her until her hips roll.” This is a bit crazy, isn’t it? The guy you love telling another man how to fuck you the way you like. “Not yet.” Yeonjun switches to Korean, making you roll your eyes. If you didn’t have the energy to translate in your head earlier, you definitely can’t focus enough to translate now.

Lips trailing down your body, he tugs at your shorts, but keeps your cute pink panties on. Yeonjun talks him through every move—to lick his thumb and rub your nipple, to press his nose to the outside of your panties, to skate his lips across your inner thighs. 

Your hips roll uncontrollably, practically begging him to taste you. 

“Kai—” You whisper, your body instantly burning at the sound of the both of them chuckling. Pulling your panties down and off your legs, he throws them to Yeonjun who happily wads them up to sniff them and smell how delicious you are. 

Licking his thumb again, he keeps rubbing circles over your nipple as he finally licks your clit, your back arching as soon as he touches it. 

“Fuck—” You say breathlessly, looking down at him as his eyes sparkle up at you, your head dropping to your pillow with a thud. “Who the fuck is this bitch that says you’re bad at this?” He shakes his head, digging deeper into your pussy. 

Smiling cockily, you look over at Yeonjun, trying to control his breathing. He can’t help it—the two of you are just too hot together. He's never been able to enjoy this kind of view before. Seeing how every part of your body reacts to being touched—it's an incredible view.

“Please tell me he’s allowed to make me cum, baby,” You beg.

“Of course,” he chuckles smugly. “If he can.” Kai’s eating you out like he’s absolutely starving. And it’s true—he can’t help it. You taste too fucking good. 

Your eyes squeeze shut as you start squeaking, throwing your head back. 

“Okay, that sound means she’s gonna cum soon. Try to bring her as close to the edge as possible and then stop.” 

“Fuck, Kai,” you breathe. “Right there—yes.” You can’t believe how good he is at this, especially given the reason you're under his tongue right now. He’s supposed to be bad at this, right? 

You’re so fucking close and he can feel it. “Don’t stop—” he brings you right there. And then he does it. He stops. “Agh, fuck you,” you groan. Looking down at him, his smirking at you, eyes flashing between you and Yeonjun. 

He doesn’t waste too much time before getting back to your pussy, flicking his tongue over your clit. 

“Take it away from her for a bit. Lick her nipples again.” He does just that. You’re aching, bucking your hips over and over, desperately trying to relieve some kind of tension. But his tongue does feel amazing on your tits. Threading your fingers through his hair, you tug at it hard. He groans, his mouth dropping open like you just unlocked a new kink of his. 

Now he can’t take it anymore. Hips jutting forward, you feel the roughness of his sweatpants drag against your center, relieving some of that tension. You gasp, resorting to begging him to get back to licking you. 

“No, don’t,” Yeonjun says sternly. 

“But I want to,” Kai whines back, looking at your pussy hungrily, sticking the tip of his tongue out, giving his best begging eyes. But Yeonjun just shakes his head, satisfied with watching you uncontrollably rolling your hips up toward Kai’s mouth. Kai compromises, wrapping his hands around the backs of your thighs to yank you closer to him and presses his lips to the skin right around your clit, teasing you even more. 

“Babe—” you breathe, begging Yeonjun with your eyes to let him continue licking you. 

“I know, baby, I know…” he responds, his voice low and rough. He finally lets him lick you again. But he doesn’t show much mercy. He repeats the same tactic over and over—having him bring you right to the edge, even to the point of tears, then he stops right in his tracks.

"I'm gonna tell you to stop, but I want you to keep going, okay?" Kai nods, agreeing to his instructions. Bringing you to the edge again, you're begging for mercy, begging to cum. "Don't let her cum, Kai," he says, making tears form in your eyes. "Stop—"

And he does.

"I told you to let her cum that time."

"Sorry," he smiles up at him, licking his lips. "It's so fun to see her beg like that though." Tilting his head toward you, he says, "Look at her...she's got tears in her eyes. Isn't that the hottest fucking thing you've ever seen?"

"It's okay, baby," he says, fingers flowing through your hair while Kai's mouth finds your clit again. You're moaning, gasping for air, swearing, screaming, anything to try to find a release. "Not yet. Don't let her fucking cum, Kai." You don't think you can handle this much longer. Edging is nice, yes, but this? This is bordering torture.

"Please, please, please, Jjun..." you trail off. "Just please let me cum. I can't take it anymore."

"I know you can take it, baby. Fucking taking it so well..."

It's building again. That knot in your stomach that gets tighter and tighter with every second. That white hot fire in the pit of your stomach waiting to explode.

"Don't stop, Kai," you blurt. "I'm gonna cum—" Slamming your palm over your mouth—you shouldn't have said that. He's gonna make you regret saying that.

"Don't let her cum," he orders.

But his grip gets tighter. His tongue licks furiouser. His face digs deeper. You're so fucking close. Closer than you've ever been tonight.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Kai..." your orgasms crashes over you like a bolt of lightning. "Yes, fuck yes, that feels so fucking good." You feel like you're having an out of body experience. It's one of the best fucking orgasms of your life. "Don't stop, right there." You chest heaves with heavy breaths.

Coming down from one of the best orgasms of your life, your vision clears up and all you keep thinking is how much Yeonjun's gonna make you pay for this. You came without his permission—what's he gonna do now? Everything flashes across your mind: not letting you cum for a week, spanking you until your ass had his hand print on it, tying you up for hours, you're not sure.

But he doesn't do any of that. His hand caresses your cheek as he smiles down at you, "Did that feel good, baby?"

Confused, you nod, "Mhmm." You're still nervous, looking around at everyone's reactions. Kai's smirking while he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Bad at eating pussy my ass," you say, shoving his shoulder with your foot.

"Ah, I knew you a had a little crush on him...I've seen how you look at him." Your face turns beet red. He's noticed that? Oh god... "I just wanted to do something nice for my baby."

[adverbally]

Wind Up Like the Wreck You Hide

Written for the @steddieangstyaugust prompt “Angst With a Happy Ending” | wc: 1,096 | rated: T | cw: hospital, heart attack, parental illness | tags: hurt/comfort, taking care of each other | title from “I’m Still Standing “ by Elton John

———

Eddie runs into the emergency room and directly into Steve’s arms. He can’t catch his breath, having hyperventilated the whole drive back to Hawkins and sprinted from the parking lot, but he’s able to gasp out, “Wayne-?”

“He’s okay,” Steve reassures him, rubbing his hands up and down Eddie’s arms. “He’s gonna be okay, they’re just gonna keep him overnight for observation.”

“He’s okay?” Eddie parrots. What does that mean? The words haven’t sunk in yet. Eddie was in Indianapolis getting ready for tonight’s show when Steve had called him from this very waiting room to explain that Wayne had a heart attack and Eddie needed to get to the hospital as soon as possible. Two hours later, he’s just… okay?

Steve shifts his grip to Eddie’s shoulders. “He’s okay. We got here fast and they took great care of him. He’s asleep upstairs right now.”

Eddie feels faint with the relief that sweeps through him. Though, as his knees go weak and he stumbles into Steve, it occurs to him that it’s probably just his adrenaline crashing.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Steve catches him under his arms and drags him upright again. “Let’s go sit down while I catch you up.”

Eddie doesn’t know what he needs to know other than ‘Wayne had a heart attack and it didn’t kill him,’ but he lets Steve steer him toward a bank of plastic chairs in the corner. He falls into a seat like a puppet whose strings have been cut.

Steve, angel that he is, pulls a notebook out of his pocket and begins telling Eddie what Wayne’s doctors had said. He had carefully written down phrases that he knew he wouldn’t remember once Eddie got there. Atherosclerosis. Nitroglycerin. Percutaneous coronary intervention. Angioplasty with stent. All the information Eddie would need about his uncle’s care, noted and defined in Steve’s neat handwriting. There are some items with question marks beside them, things that they might need to ask the doctors about.

Eddie’s eyes begin to water. Steve didn’t just do this for him, he did it out of love and concern for Wayne. He spent two hours gathering information and taking notes so he could understand what happened and figure out how to help. The notes on aspirin, the crude diagram of a blocked artery, the bullet point at the bottom of the page that says ‘diet?? medication??’ are all so Steve can take better care of Wayne.

Steve grips Eddie’s hand when he hears his sharp intake of breath. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but it’ll make more sense once we go upstairs and talk to Wayne’s doctor.” His tone is low and soothing.

“Thanks. I’m glad you were here to look out for him.”

“Yeah, of course.” He looks a little embarrassed by Eddie’s gratitude, like it’s a given that anyone would do the same thing. “He’s important to you, so he’s important to me. But he’s also a good man. A good dad,” he adds tentatively.

Eddie barks out a laugh. “You should call him that to his face, he would love it. Finally, a son who will watch sports with him and properly sort the laundry!”

“I don’t expect you to get it since ninety-nine percent of your wardrobe is black, but separating whites and colors really makes a difference!” Steve argues, blushing at Eddie’s teasing.

Eddie squeezes his hand. “Seriously, Wayne loves you. He calls you his son-in-law when he talks about you with his poker buddies. He brags about how all the kids at school love you and you’re the best second grade teacher in the state. Hell, I think he spends more time with you than he does with me.”

“He really does all that?” Steve asks quietly, like a wish that won’t come true if you say it out loud. When Eddie nods, Steve frowns, his lower lip quivering slightly, and looks down at the scuffed linoleum floor. “I didn’t know.”

Oh, shit. Eddie didn’t even think to ask how Steve was doing through all of this. He had called 911 and ridden in the ambulance with Wayne, had almost certainly paced around the nurses’ station waiting for news. Then, instead of going with Wayne, he stayed downstairs until Eddie got there so he could update him about Wayne’s condition as soon as humanly possible.

It was just like Steve to focus on taking care of everyone else, so natural that Eddie didn’t even think twice about accepting Steve’s comfort while offering nothing in return. And now that the immediate crisis is over, now that Steve has had a chance to breathe and start processing, Eddie thinks Steve might be on the verge of a meltdown.

Wordlessly, Eddie loops an arm under one of Steve’s and tugs him to his feet, herding him in the direction of the single-stall bathroom around the corner. By the time they’re inside, Steve’s whole body is shaking; by the time Eddie flips the lock on the door, fat tears are rolling down his cheeks.

“Sorry, I don’t know why…” Steve gestures at his face a little helplessly.

Eddie still doesn’t say anything, just pulls Steve into a tight embrace. His shirt grows damp where Steve has buried his face in his shoulder, and he feels Steve’s back shudder as he tries to stifle his sobs.

“I was really scared,” he confesses between gasps. “I just kept thinking how horrible it would be if I had to tell you—“

“It’s okay, baby,” Eddie murmurs into his hair. “You did great, he’s okay.”

Steve sniffles loudly. “I know, I’m just being stupid.”

“It’s not stupid.” It comes out more forcefully than Eddie had planned. He hates when Steve does that, puts himself down and invalidates his feelings. “That was a medical emergency. Just because it turned out fine doesn’t mean it wasn’t stressful.”

“I guess.” Steve pulls away long enough to grab a paper towel so he can mop up his face. He goes easily when Eddie guides him into another hug.

Swaying them both gently, he tells Steve, “You know, you don’t always have to put on a brave face. Let me take care of you once in a while.”

“I know,” Steve croaks. “I’m working on it.”

They stand there for another minute, both drawing strength from the other’s presence, before Steve clears his throat and releases Eddie. “I think I’m good. We should go upstairs now, Wayne’ll want to see you.”

“He’ll want to see you, too,” Eddie reminds him.

Steve’s smile is small but radiant. “Okay, let’s go.”

[shuenkio]

Brought the heat back | PsH. 💥

Paring: Sunghoon x M!reader | Genre: SMUT

Synopsis: Arrange married Park Sunghoon who you had never seen since birth, finally took a turn when he realized you're the one.

Cw: explicit scenes, cursing, cumming inside, moaning, whimpering etc (read at your own risk)

Non proof read | Eng is not my 1st lang.

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

A&N: from ANON request. I'm super sure there'd be awkward parts because I'm stressed out to write a perfect smut but might fail... Nvm enjoy reading. Smut below cut ✓

Enjoy your life at peace eat, drink, work, and sleep. Cycle this routine as life goes on. Until a man who is not your dream shows up. Since his parents and yours used to be hardcore bff when they were young, they wanted to tie the bond together by arranging a forced marriage between Sunghoon Park and M/N.

Disagree to this arrangement would be useless; why on earth would your parents befriend the gangster group out of everyone else? Which makes it worse if you don't want to be married to a man you have never met.

Along with your future groom, maybe at least you expected that he would be a gentleman, is a green flag, have a nice attitude, know what's right or wrong, be mature, talkative, or so on, yet none of these can be seen in him. All Sunghoon had was a face, a body, and a dead-looking, cold face.

He was an ice prince, for real. So on the day both guardians confirmed this ceremony, you couldn't help but wonder: What did you do to deserve all of this? A future husband who couldn't fit your standards—a future husband you didn't even know and love before. What would the tension between this unfold? Just sigh and let it be; better shut up or be breathless.

Later on, after the big party, Sunghoon and M/N were freshly married. Nothing special happened, not even a spare word for each other, any eye contact, especially Park Sunghoon, what's do you expect? All you got on your night together was,

"I don't like you, m/n—don't get your hope up just because we're married; now remember your place,"

and that was the last thing you've heard him say, and it's the most hurtful thing you've ever experienced. Then why? A month had passed since we were married, and you had noticed that Sunghoon's behavior had slightly changed from before.

He has a hot temper whenever you're on the phone with anyone, having a nice conversation with the neighbors, or interacting with anyone passing by when going out, and he can't seem to calm down. Sunghoon himself didn't even know why he felt this way; he said he hated you, but why would he be jealous of somebody else other than him? However, he didn't care if you'd bring up those events when he said those words.

All he knows is that he realizes that nobody else cares about him more than you. M/N, as Sunghoon's husband. Never been a lazy househusband; whatever the tension of hatred is, you still make him eat three times a day. Doing all the shit in the house as if you're the one who brought it. When he was sick, you were never afraid to ask him what's up and how he feels. And that's when he knows that you're the one.

Either you love him or not, he's going to repay you and make you love him back. Who cares right now if you love him or not, because once you're in here, you can't leave in anyway? Coming home after a late-night date, Sunghoon's is full of all the memories and contact you had with the waitress earlier at the restaurant. You were a little too sweet toward those guys. as a result of making him unable to hold back his possessions and jealousy any more. Sunghoon needs to mark you as his own; it's now or never that you are his property only. The eyes contact; ugh, he can't seem to stop the burning sensation inside his brain.

Without further ado, once m/n settles in the bedroom, Sunghoon quickly locks the door slam with one click, and all the windows shut off from the remote. Starlet, by the sudden, you ask him nervously; a look could kill a person's presence on Sunghoon's face. It was dark; if his eyes could glow, it'd be lava red in irritated. Yet he didn't respond with anything. He ripped off his top and threw them away before buckled his belt, prepared to do something to his desire.

You know that you'd be a food to his Hungary by this midnight, all fabric on the floor. What's that mean? Well,  he's probably doing what most couples do; actually, he's going to fuck and drive you nuts. Gulping down a hard lamp in your throat, too scared to run away, too scared to say no, but there's a small part in you that screams you have to let him be; there's must be something underneath after all of this. When you open up for him, exhale what's coming for you. In one motion, both of you and his underwear are nowhere to be seen.

You always wonder, as a boy, what the dick would look like for the hot guy. It is long, small, curved, or what? Yes, Sunghoon was there to unveil that; his cock was gorgeous, he had big, huge ass balls, and the shaft was paler than his skin. His tip is faded pink, and well, the best part is that he's uncut. He doesn't like getting his skin chopped off anyway. Seeing you gone speechless by the view he was giving, only to boost his desire even better, no warning alert, your two legs are thrown across on his shoulder, while his cock is in the position of your small hole.

The atmosphere changes in an instant; the dark, empty bedroom is filled with a burning spark. Neither you nor him had any experience, but let's say Sunghoon has been trained for a while now, probably most of his alone time, to know and do what could drive you to your begging stage.

"S-sunghoon, I know it's not wrong, but... You're too huge for me."

"I don't give a damn, m/n, endure it. I'm yours, husband, isn't it? You can't say otherwise!" Distracted by his words, you were surprised at the contact of his cock buried inside you, thrusting in unexpectedly. The enormous hard cock of his indeed spread your ass into two, resulting in your cries out with pleasure.

Seeing you still adjusting to his size, Sunghoon trailed down his lip, brushing softly against yours. The kiss is mixed with love and jealousy of his; he can't stop it now to breed you and mark you as his own. He was eager to tell the world you were his only. Sinking into Sunghoon's touch, you slowly and finally adjust to his huge cock. Once he knew you were ready, his demonic power took over him as he began to push his hip to the deepest part he could ever go in one thrust. The sudden sensation drizzled you as you whimpered out loud shamelessly. Meanwhile, Sunghoon also had the same feeling; his body shuddered into pieces when he moved his own hip up and down.

All those sex toys are nothing compared to your tight entrance, which is clenching so hard and tight of his cock at the moment. He is groaning so good; it was heavenly pleasurable. It's going on for another couple of poundings until Sunghoon gets a sign he'll explode anytime soon. Clearly, you are unprepared but have to be without it. As both of his large arms encircle your waist, the wet kisses continue harder than his tongue licking over all your lips and intertwined in your mouth. Chasing that climax, which is what you're aiming for too,

"M/n, I'm fucking coming; I'm coming; I'm —" desperately, he breaks the kisses, and in one last grind, he comes undone inside of you. The massive load filled you like a cum dump, squirting out all of his orgasms and shivering with all the nerves. Enough with him cumming out; you're soon finding your dick twitches, following his orgasm as it squirted, and shooting out the hot white liquids too.

With your eyes flying up facing the ceiling, you endure the pleasure, sucking in a sharp breath. You were almost passed out with just one round, your chest heaving nonstop while Sunghoon was already recovering a while ago. M/N just feels too good to fuck, and he won't stop till he is satisfied.

"M/n! Don't test me from now on; I realized that you're nobody but someone who still puts up with me even if I'm a bad husband. I'm going to love you like no one else can, and if you ever smile at somebody else than me, I promise I'll bring the heat back." 

🗣️Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

🗣️ please mind my English! ><

🗣️ CRD TO ALL THE OWNERS.

[mixsethaddams]

Eddie and Steve were sitting on the back porch of the little two bedroom house that Owens and his merry band of government lackies gave to the Munsons in exchange for signed NDAs.

It was getting late and Steve knows he should go home, but Eddie keeps finding new conversations to strike up and it just feels too natural to keep responding. Getting up and announcing he was going home would be downright rude. The deckchair he was lounging in was confortable too, so it just made more sense to stay.

Eddie passed Steve the joint they had been nursing between them. Steve had lost track of what they were talking about a long time ago. He was too caught up in the low rumble of Eddie’s voice, quiet enough to make it feel like they were sharing secrets even if they were all alone with nothing scandalous to say. It didn’t matter what Eddie was saying. Steve was happy to just listen. The subtle fizz of the weed spread across his skin as he leaned his head back and enjoyed the light breeze that cut through the warm night.

Today was the same as every other day.

Steve woke up, showered, picked Robin up for work, and then spent eight hours rewinding tapes. He listened to her go on and on about her latest discovery of why Vickie was the perfect person, adding commentary where needed. Steve was happy for her, he was. He just wished she wasn’t so distracted. Not today.

And then he ferried Mike to Dustin’s, Will to the hospital to visit Max, brought Lucas home from the hospital so he could shower and then right back over again. He was barely through the door when Eddie called and asked how his day was, insisting Steve come over to hang out when he heard it was just ‘fine, average, nothing special’.

Steve had wanted nothing more than to fall asleep on the couch with a terrible tv movie in the background. There was something about Eddie, though. Something in the way he moved, the way he said Steve’s name and dragged his teeth along his bottom lip over the V sound. The thoughts of staring at the stars with Eddie might just be the one thing that could redeem today. Even if no one else would understand.

Steve arrived thirty seconds before two large pizzas, courtesy of one of Argyle’s buddies in the business. They each had all Steve’s favourite toppings. Which was weird because Eddie definitely didn’t like olives or pineapple. Steve had a cold beer in one hand and hot slice in the other before he even said ‘hello’.

If there was any way Steve wanted to spend the final hours of today, it was with Eddie. He knew why, of course. He bit his tongue every time he got close to saying it out loud, but he knew exactly what that something was.

“And I figured hey, if it means I don’t have to sell weed to highschoolers anymore, then why not, you know?”

Steve’s brain took a second to catch up to Eddie’s train of thought about his new job. He was going to be working in a garage with Reefer Rick’s nephew.

“Totally,” said Steve, sipping the mostly empty bottle in his hand, the liquid warmed by being held so long. “I bet you’ll be great at it too,”

“Yeah well,” said Eddie, quirking his eyebrows. “I hope so,”

They fell into silence again and Steve started to think it might not be rude to leave any more. The joint was down to the nub, the beer was gone, and Eddie’s eyelids were looking heavy.

“I should, uh…” said Steve, shifting his weight on the chair to stand up.

“Why didn’t you tell them?” asked Eddie, looking up at the moon. Steve could see its reflection in his eyes.

Steve stopped.

“Tell who?” he asked. “Tell them what?”

Eddie sighed.

“It’s your birthday, man…” breathed Eddie. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“Oh…” said Steve. He could feel his face heat up. “I don’t… I guess its not a big deal for me… Not for years…”

Eddie nodded solemnly.

“You’re too good for us, Harrington,” said Eddie, shaking his head. “I saw what you did for Robin’s birthday. Did she remember, at least?”

Steve didn’t say anything. He knew he’d probably get a frantic apology and a card tomorrow. It wasn’t like he was going to hold it against her.

“Pizza and beer isn’t exactly the five star treatment you deserve,” said Eddie. “Hope it’s enough to, you know, make today not suck entirely,”

Eddie waved his hand around in a circle, as if gesturing to the very day itself.

“This actually might be the best end to a birthday I’ve ever had,” admitted Steve. “So, you know, thanks. For doing this for me, I mean,”

“Thanks for eating all the olives,” joked Eddie, draining his beer bottle. “Besides, any excuse to hang out with you, I’ll take it,”

“Yeah?” asked Steve, his voice smaller than he expected.

“Yeah,” answered Eddie gently. “I like being with you,”

Steve’s stomach lurched. He followed Eddie’s gaze to the moon. She was beautiful tonight and Steve felt safe the cool glow she cast over them.

“How did you know?” asked Steve, playing with the hem of his sweater. “Or like, care?”

“Saw it on your license a whole back,” Eddie answered, lighting two cigarettes at once and handing one to Steve. “And I cared because… Because I care. I didn’t want you to be sad on your birthday,”

“Oh,” said Steve meekly. “I’m not sad. Not now. I’m happy now, so it worked,”

Steve took the offering of the cigarette and sat back in his chair, looking at his hand and the subtle hint of ‘don’t go’.

“Did you have a birthday wish?” asked Eddie, holding up the still-lit match. It was burning quickly down towards his fingertips.

“Just one…” said Steve slowly, looking through the flame at Eddie.

“A person?” asked Eddie.

Steve gulped, and nodded.

“So make it,” Eddie said. “Don’t tell me, or it won’t come true,”

Steve blew out the flame, still gazing into brown eyes, watching them turn black when the light was gone.

Eddie’s watch beeped. It was midnight.

“Didn’t come true,” said Steve sadly, his eyes still fixed on the point where Eddie had been holding the match between them.

“Give it time…” said Eddie softly.

Steve took a long drag of his cigarette and wondered if this is what every night would be like. If his wish came true and he got exactly what he wanted, would he sit out here and smoke and stare at the stars and listen to Eddie talk every night? Was he allowed to have that?

“I wished for the person that makes me happy,” said Steve, not looking over at Eddie but feeling bolstered by weed and boldened by beer.

“It won’t come true now,” teased Eddie, his voice low.

“Even if I tell them?” asked Steve, turning to look at Eddie. He looked into Eddie’s eyes again and thought of all the things he wanted to say. He felt something shift between them when Eddie didn’t look away.

“I made a wish on my birthday too,” said Eddie. “That didn’t come true either,”

“What did you wish for?” asked Steve.

Eddie’s arm flopped between their chairs, his cigarette burning steadily between his fingers.

“To make someone happy,” he said.

“Like…” whispered Steve.

Steve slowly moved his hand so it brushed against Eddie’s, the backs of their fingers rubbing together. Steve hooked Eddie’s pinkie with his own. Eddie looked at their hands and smiled gently.

“Yeah,” said Eddie quietly.

Steve hummed.

“Guess I just needed to wish for it too,” said Steve.

[girasollake]

Can you please write something for Mattheo Riddle with academic rivals and if we get caught I’m blaming you

Tyty <3

✧ mattheo riddle x fem!reader x academic rivals x "if we get caught I’m blaming you"✧

( this request is a part of my writing event, here is the link to the masterlist of the fics i'll be publishing from said event:) )

❁ i love all variations of enemies to lovers hihi, anyway this might have some mistakes which i’ll probably fix in the future

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

You stormed out of the class the moment it ended. You couldn’t stand his remarks and comments on every topic, often resulting in an argument where the teacher had to step in to end it. You huffed and went outside to get some fresh air, Pansy followed your steps and you both sat down on the cold pavement. She took a cigarette out of the box and placed it in between her soft lips. To her surprise, you looked at her and extended your hand flat so that she could share one with you. She saw you smoke like at best - three times, throughout all the years she’s known you. You hated that smell, because whenever you smelt it he was somewhere close.

‘You want-‘

‘Yes.’ You cut her off and she silently placed a cigarette in your hand. ‘Don’t question it.’ You muttered as put the thing between your lips as well.

‘I wont.’ She mumbled as she pulled out a lighter.

You inhaled deeply and exhaled the smoke, both the taste and the feeling of smoking made you cough a bit. Pansy kept her mouth shut, but her eyes never left your figure.

‘What?’ You turned to her, still clearly upset.

‘Nothing.’ She sighed and took a puff. “I just think you should pay less attention to him, he sees that this rivalry makes your blood boil and he uses that to get a rise out of you.’

You didn’t reply for a moment, thick smoke slowly escaping your lips.

‘But I can’t let him win.’

‘You have been fighting for the best grades since i can remember, why are you so obsessed about it anyway?’

‘I-.. I don’t know. I just dont want to give him the satisfaction of being better than me.’

She nodded slowly, ‘You comin’ to the party on tomorrow?’

You sighed, ‘Probably not. We have classes on Monday.’

‘And? You have the whole Sunday to study’ She replied. ‘Mattheo will be there, you both need to relax for one fucking night, right?’ She tilted her head and smirked.

‘I still won’t go.’ You replied and took another puff.

‘Ohh come on!’ Pansy whined and she grabbed your arm to shake it roughly. ‘Pleaseee… I dont remember the last time we went to a party together..’

You looked at her and sighed deeply while closing your eyes, ‘I’ll think about it.’

She chuckled, ‘Merlin, you are so easy to persuade.’

‘You want me to say no?’ You remarked and she raised her hands in defense, her lips in a thin line so that she wouldn’t say anything more.

During supper on Saturday the Slytherin party was everything anyone could talk about. The more things you heard about it the less you wanted to go, but the previous day you agreed to Pansy’s request, now regretting it fully. You moved your fork around your plate, sometimes taking a bite of the food but mostly playing with it. As soon as you could exit the Great Hall you hurried to your dorm. After what felt like four hours of looking through your closet, you finally found the most decent outfit for the party. It started at 9 p.m. but you arrived an hour and a half later. After all you said you’d come, not when. You spotted Pansy in the crowd easily, she was currently engaging in a possibly flirtatious conversation with Theo Nott. You liked him, unfortunately, because it meant wherever he was Mattheo fucking Riddle would be close by. This time wasn’t any different. You slowly squeezed your way through the crowd of drunk students and tapped Pansy on the shoulder after reaching her side.

‘Why are you so late?’

‘What do you mean? I thought the party started at 11?’ you replied sarcastically.

‘Yeah, sure you did.’ She jokingly rolled her eyes at you.

‘Hi Theo.’ You gave him a smile.

He gave you a nod and went back to slowly sipping his whiskey. A moment later you felt someone squeezing between you and Pansy to rest their arms on both your and her shoulders.

‘Hello ladies, can I get you anything?’ A chirpy voice asked.

You chuckled, ‘Hi Enzo, nice to see you too.’ You wanted to add you didn’t want anything but Pansy was quicker.

‘Yeah, we both want the strongest thing you have.’

‘Wha-‘ You tried to interfere.

‘Our friend here needs to take her busy mind off of things.’

And with that Enzo nodded in understanding and disappeared into the crowd with a smirk.

‘Pans, what the fuck?’ You raised your voice.

‘Relax, you need a night off.’

You scoffed.

‘If he is having fun then you should too.’ She replied and nodded towards something.

You turned around to see Mattheo on a couch, sloppily making out with some Ravenclaw girl.

‘I’m gonna puke.’ You turned to Pansy. ‘That is not my idea of fun.’

‘I’m not saying you have to hook up with anyone! All I want us to do today is to get completely plastered tonight!’ She pleaded. ‘Please?’

You wanted to reply but before you could Enzo had brought the drinks. Part of you knew this was gonna have consequences, but the other part of you was like fuck it. You sighed and with a smirk took the beverage from his hand, you listened to the second option.

The night was full of dancing and drinking, mostly the second one which led to you sitting in a circle at 1:45 am, playing truth or dare. You were laughing at Fred Weasley’s poor try to do a split when he suddenly gave up and drank his shot as punishment. Then the bottle landed on you.

“So, truth or dare?” He asked you with a cocky smirk.

“Dare.”

To be honest, you would have chosen truth if not the fact that you were already a bit drunk.

“I dare you to go in a closet for 7 minutes with Riddle.” He and George started sneering.

You locked eyes with Mattheo and without thinking replied.

“I’d rather take a shot than spend a second with him alone.”

He scoffed at you, “Glad we’re on the same page.”

You picked up your glass and the liquid soon started burning your throat.

On Sunday morning you woke up in your bed, how you got there though - you had no idea. You slowly sat up and felt like your head was going to explode in any moment. Then you remembered why you don’t get drunk, but it was too late to change that. You spent the rest of the day in your bed, away from any noise that would make this pain worse. You tried opening some books to study, but with this hazy mind and eyes not focusing on any sentence you quickly gave up and threw them to the side. After all, not studying for once wouldn’t bite you in the ass, right?

Monday morning was much better, you did your routine and the pain was gone. You quickly hurried to class and sat down next to Pansy just before the clock struck 9:00.

Professor Binns entered the classroom and everyone expected another boring lesson, where he hopefully falls asleep. Instead, he cleared his throat and told everyone to only leave their quills and a piece of paper on their desks. The students started looking at eachother in confusion, Binns had never done any sort of test without announcing it before.

“Today, I want to see how much you lot remember from the last few classes, there will be three questions, answer them briefly. You’ll have 10 minutes.”

Your eyes widened so much you thought they would pop out from the eye sockets. You were screwed, not only you hated this subject because you couldn’t remember much from what Binns was saying but you also haven’t studied because of this stupid party.

Everyone started groaning and trying to bargain with the professor but he was persistent. You scribbled the questions quickly as he was saying each one of them and you realised you don’t know anything.

“Shit.” You whispered to yourself.

You saw Mattheo giggling across the room and writing on the paper. If only you could read his mind and copy the answers, but you couldn’t. You started writing anything that came to your mind, none of it was probably right, but maybe you’d get some points for trying. Unlike Berkshire and Nott who didn’t even write the questions down.

When the time was up all the papers flew directly into the professor’s hand. The rest of the class went by much quicker and as soon as it ended you stormed out of the class.

At the end of the day you found yourself in your dorm, studying whatever you learned that day in class. You picked up your History Of Magic book and started flipping through it in order to write down the correct answers to the questions which you luckily remembered. They turned out to be way complicated than you thought, you were officially screwed. Before reading them you at least had hope Binns would give you some points, now the hope has vanished.

Then, out of nowhere, a crazy idea popped into your mind. You turned to the side to see your roomate sleeping soundly and slowly got up from your bed and went over to the door. Holding your hand over the knob, unsure of your choice, you sighed deeply.

“Fuck it.” You whispered to yourself and exited the dorm.

This was not a good idea and you knew it. But it was better than being worse than Riddle. At least that’s what you were telling yourself as you walked through the dark corridors of Hogwarts Castle. At night it was even harder to find the correct classroom where the professor would’ve kept the tests.

It felt like you have missed the correct room at least 10 times already, this was too hard. You were about to give up when you heard shuffling in the classroom a few metres away from where you stood. The door was slightly agape and there was a soft blue light coming out, someone was surely using lumos. You took a few small steps and remained as quiet as possible, peeking your head through the door you saw someone going through the desk drawers as quietly as they could. The person stood up and when your eyes landed on those messy curls, you instantly recognised him.

“Riddle?” You whispered as you entered the room. “The hell are you doing here?”

He looked up in horror, but immediately relaxed his stance when he saw it was you.

“I could ask you the same question.” He placed his hands on the desk and leaned forward. “Looks like we had the same idea. Didn’t think you were one to break the rules, though.”

“What do you mean?” You scoffed.

“You came here to replace your test with the correct answers, didn’t you?” He smirked at you and pointed to the piece of paper you were holding.

“Why are you here?” You avoided his question.

“For the exact same reason, love.” He waved his paper sheet.

“Don’t call me that.” You replied and came over to him. “I saw you giggling in class, surely you must’ve known the answers.”

He shrugged his arms, “I was giggling because I knew I was screwed.”

You rolled your eyes at him and took a look around the class.

“Have you found them, then?”

“I don’t think they are here.” He nodded towards the desk.

You went over to the cabinet on your right and opened the shelfs, finding your tests in the lowest one.

“You are so daft, Riddle.” You gave him a smirk and waved the papers in front of his face.

He scoffed at you and took them from your hand. He started looking for your names and you both successfully replaced your tests.

“I wanted to be better than you and now we are gonna be even.” You sighed.

“I’m always better than you, though.” He replied.

“No you are not.” You hissed.

“Mhm.”

“I’m going back to my dorm. I can’t stand another second with you.” You huffed and started walking away.

Mattheo didn’t respond, instead he smirked to himself, put the tests back in the drawer and started silently following after you.

“Fuck off Riddle.” You whisper-yelled at him when he caught up to you.

“Why do you want to be better than me so much?”

“Just because.”

You didn’t even know why, you just knew you couldn’t be worse than him. This unspoken rivalry had been going on for far too long and you never understood why it mattered to you so much. You stopped walking and looked up at him, even though it was dark you could see his soft features. You opened your mouth to say something when a soft meow echoed through the corridor. Mattheo instantly grabbed your hand and pulled you into the nearest room, which happened to be a small closet full of different jars containing various herbs. You felt his warm breath on your face.

“If we get caught, I’m blaming you.” You whispered.

“Can you shut up for one second?” He whispered back.

“I’m just-“ He stopped you by putting his hand over your mouth.

You heard someone walking next to the door behind which you were hiding. You closed your eyes and tried to calm down, but feeling Mattheo’s warm hand on your face made you even more nervous. You slowly reached up and took his hand away. Your eyes were flickering between the door and each other’s faces. The light from a lamp Filch was carrying shined through the bottom of the door. It lit up the room to the point that you saw your enemy almost clearly. He looked… pretty. Saying you didn’t find him attractive would be a complete lie. You realised how close you were to each other, his body heat making you get goosebumps. This is the closest you had ever been and for the first time you didn’t find him annoying. His eyes were glued to the bottom of the door, waiting for Filch to go past the room. Slowly the light started fading and so did his features you were studying, like the scar on his nose you never noticed. You wondered where it was from.

“I think he’s gone.” He whispered which got you out of the trance.

“Hm?”

“Filch.”

“Oh, yeah. Right.” You whispered and turned your attention to the door.

Mattheo kept his eyes on you, little did you know he also felt nervous with being this close to you. He noticed you were still holding his hand, you didn’t let him go after taking it off of your mouth. He changed the position of your hands, interlocking your fingers. It took you by surprise, but you didn’t show any reaction, visibly. He led you through the corridors as you slowly made your ways to your dorms. You were about to let go of his hand and head off to your room when he tightened the grip.

“Guess you fulfilled the dare after all.” He beamed.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“The night of the party you said you’d not spend a second with me and now you’ve spent much more than that.” He smirked.

“Wow, you are so full of yourself.” You let out a breathy laugh and a soft smile grew on your face. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t.” He reciprocated the smile.

You both looked down at your intertwined hands and slowly let go, your hand going back to hanging at your side.

“I still hate you, though.” You said with a smirk and started slowly walking away.

“Glad we’re on the same page.” He replied with the same sentence he did the night of the party and smirked at you as well.

“Night, Riddle.”

“Night, love.” He replied and you rolled your eyes at him, but smirked to yourself after you were out of his sight.

The next morning History of Magic was your last class, which meant Binns had probably already graded your tests. He shook his head and said he is disappointed, as only two students got a good grade. You and Mattheo looked at each other and he sent you a wink.

“Stupid bastard.” You whispered to yourself, hiding your smirk and trying to ignore the feeling in your stomach.

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

© girasollake 2023

i feel like this is bad .. sorry for the wait guys i am TRYING ..

[creamflix]

PERSEPHONE — ryomen sukuna x female reader [chapter 2]

summary: ryomen sukuna, ruthless tycoon of the alcohol industry, is used to crushing rivals. but when his former meek secretary walks into his office as his newest competitor, he’s blindsided. you’ve transformed into a powerful force, ready to go head-to-head in a high-stakes battle for dominance. as tension rises between you — both in business and something far more dangerous — sukuna realizes this fight might cost him more than just his empire.

content warnings & tags: enemies to lovers, modern au, business tycoon sukuna, angst, slow-burn, mentions of other jujutsu kaisen characters (suguru geto, choso kamo, uraume, yuuji itadori), mentions of sickness [puking due to alcohol consumption + past trauma] - this takes place in the same universe as my upcoming salaryman!choso fanfic

word count: 9.9k words

notes: thank you all so much for the positive response for our darling business tycoon sukuna, i'm beyond grateful. as i said, this will be a very slow-burn fic. i realistically have not planned out how many chapters i'm gonna write [ridiculous, i know] but i will make a masterlist soon! keep your eye out for that. and please, enjoy.

masterlist

this was a new low, even for sukuna. it felt like the earth had swallowed him whole, leaving nothing but his pride to choke on.

how the hell did i end up here? he thought bitterly, staring at yuuji, his fresh-out-of-high-school little brother, who was now sitting in his plush office chair, twirling a pen like it was the most exciting thing in the world. having yuuji be my intern as a marketing strategist... the words tasted like bile in his mouth. it wasn’t that his business was struggling — far from it — but the “experts” had insisted that “gen-z knows gen-z the best” and that ryomen’s brand needed a fresh perspective to appeal to younger audiences. a whole load of crap, but sukuna had grudgingly agreed.

and of all people, yuuji was the one sitting across from him, smiling like a kid who just found out he could have dessert before dinner.

“you get my range rover for the time you’re here, and an extra week to stay at the miami penthouse. deal?” sukuna offered with a grumble, the words almost painful to say.

yuuji, without missing a beat, grinned. “you strike a hard bargain, but i agree.”

“range rover with a chauffeur!” sukuna barked. “you are not taking that damn thing out by yourself —”

“can’t hear you!” yuuji sang out as he already started texting his friends, probably to brag about his temporary ride.

is this my life now? sukuna thought, eyes narrowing at his brother. the contrast between them was maddening. how did they look so alike yet end up so different? sukuna, a figure of intimidating presence and silent power, versus yuuji, the golden retriever of the family, bouncing off walls with enthusiasm that never seemed to dwindle. it was exhausting.

yet... sukuna sighed inwardly. it felt right. as weird as it was to turn to his younger brother for advice on how to steer his multi-million dollar company toward the hearts of gen-z, there was an unspoken reason behind this move. sukuna wouldn’t admit it out loud — not to anyone — but this was a veiled excuse to spend more time with yuuji. i want to see him grow up before it’s too late... before i miss out on everything.

the conversation replayed in sukuna’s mind, the phone call that had set this whole thing into motion. he remembered dialing choso’s number that monday night, pacing in his study like he had something far more important to discuss than the simple request he was about to make.

“what’s up?” choso’s familiar, calm voice answered, and sukuna could practically hear the eyebrow raise on the other side of the line. no doubt he knows something’s up...

“is the brat free?” sukuna asked, cutting straight to the point, though his tone held a gruffness that masked the underlying hesitation.

“you mean yuuji?” choso sounded amused. “yeah, he’s around. why? you finally listening to my advice?”

sukuna clenched his jaw. damn choso and his know-it-all attitude. “just tell me if he’s coming or not,” sukuna snapped. “i’ll have him picked up.”

there was a pause, and then choso chuckled, a low sound that grated sukuna’s nerves. “you’re really doing it, huh? alright. he’ll be there.”

sukuna grunted a reply and ended the call before choso could get in another word. the weight of that decision settled on him as soon as the line went dead. what am i doing? he thought, pinching the bridge of his nose. he had run away from all that domestic crap years ago, leaving choso with the burden of raising yuuji while sukuna carved out his empire. now he was dragging his baby brother into the corporate world, hoping for... what? a way to reconnect? maybe. maybe even to prove to himself that he hadn’t completely abandoned his family.

yuuji, on the other hand, was overjoyed. from the moment he stepped foot into the sleek, glass-paneled office building, he was bouncing off every wall — metaphorically, at least. sukuna’s employees, most of whom had only ever seen their boss in stoic, business mode, were stunned by the whirlwind that was yuuji itadori. he was talking to them like they were old friends, cracking jokes, and asking questions about their jobs, all while everyone tried to reconcile the fact that this was sukuna’s little brother.

it’s insane how they look so alike, one of the marketing assistants whispered to another, but they’re complete opposites.

sukuna, watching from his corner office, didn’t know whether to be impressed or irritated. he’s not here to make friends. he’s here to work. but deep down, he couldn’t deny a strange sense of satisfaction seeing yuuji here, in his world, even if it was just for a short while.

as the days passed, sukuna found himself in unfamiliar territory. instead of barking orders, he found himself... mentoring. guiding yuuji through the nuances of marketing, albeit begrudgingly. at first, it was awkward, like two pieces of a puzzle that didn’t quite fit. but yuuji, with his boundless energy and openness, had a way of easing into things, even cracking sukuna’s icy exterior, bit by bit.

maybe this isn’t so bad, sukuna thought one evening as yuuji chattered on about trends and social media engagement, something sukuna would normally roll his eyes at. but now, he listened, actually listened.

and if this is what it takes to spend time with him... well, sukuna could make the sacrifice.

“oi nii-chan, is it true you and miss persephone lady used to work togeth–”

“enough with that crap! i got you here to work, not read through some trashy tabloid!” sukuna snapped, slamming his laptop shut as he glared at his younger brother.

it had been a few days since yuuji started officially interning for ryomen, and to sukuna’s surprise, the kid wasn’t half bad. he had this knack for understanding what gen z wanted — though sukuna would never admit that aloud — and somehow, yuuji managed to get him on tiktok. tiktok, of all things.

“trust me, bro, just hold the bottle up, smile a little… no, not like you’re about to kill someone — there, that’s it! just smile like a regular human.” yuuji had been chirping as he filmed his brother, who begrudgingly lifted a bottle of his own product in front of the camera.

sukuna had scoffed at the ridiculousness of it, but the reel blew up overnight, racking up millions of views. comments poured in, and to sukuna’s dismay, most of them weren’t even about the product.

"who’s the hot dilf in the suit?!"

"omg i’d buy anything daddy’s selling 😩💦"

"daddy energy is off the charts!! does he need a wife?"

"i’m literally ordering a case just ‘cause he held it, help."

meanwhile, you and suguru were practically losing your minds over the viral tiktok. not that you had anything to really worry about — persephone was the "hot girl drink" among gen z, and tiktok was basically your playground. but as a businesswoman, it irked you to see a slight dip in your numbers. for the first time in a while, your usually devoted fanbase — the ones who’d raid your comments with praise and love — had migrated to thirst over at ryomen's instead.

“those assholes knew exactly what they were doing when they whored out their boss like that,” suguru muttered, scrolling through the comments of the video, eyes narrowing at every thirst post he passed.

“suguru! language!” you scolded, shooting him a glare, though you couldn’t deny the accuracy of his observation.

“what? it’s true! look at him,” he huffed, gesturing toward the screen.

you paused, hesitantly glancing at the video again. and, well… he wasn’t wrong. sukuna had the whole tall, brooding, dark look going for him. it was no wonder half the internet was drooling over him.

“if i had to hazard a guess, they probably had a younger kid think of this,” suguru added, now analyzing the marketing tactic. “they know their stuff. gen z eats this up.”

you let out a frustrated sigh. “whatever, it doesn’t matter. we need to bounce back.”

suguru grinned mischievously. “oh, i’ve got a few ideas. starting with—”

“suguru,” you interrupted, narrowing your eyes at him, “for the last time, i am not letting you get shirtless on camera.”

he laughed, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “hey, just offering my services! we’re losing to thirst traps here.”

you rolled your eyes, already brainstorming new strategies. “we don’t need thirst traps to win. we’re better than that.”

“yeah, yeah,” suguru smirked. “but admit it, they played their hand well with this one.”

despite his annoyance at the flood of thirsty comments, the numbers didn’t lie. the reel translated into a surprising sales boost for ryomen’s wine. sukuna was on a high after that win, but deep down, he knew it was all thanks to yuuji's ridiculous idea. actually saying "thank you"? yeah, right. that wasn’t gonna happen. instead, he decided to take yuuji to one of the socialite parties he was invited to as a subtle reward, even though he warned him, “you screw around, and i’ll throw your ass out in front of everyone.”

yuuji had grinned ear to ear. “don’t worry nii-chan, i’ll behave!”

sukuna rolled his eyes, but there was a part of him that was secretly proud. the brat was doing well, and in some twisted way, this was also an excuse to spend more time with him.

the whole tiktok situation still irked sukuna, though. since when was his image the selling point? the product was solid on its own, but apparently, gen z loved "hot dilfs" now. ridiculous. but whatever works, he thought with a scoff.

as they pulled up to the socialite event, yuuji practically bounced out of the car, eyes wide at the grandeur of the venue. sukuna shot him a sidelong glance, grumbling under his breath, “remember what i said, don’t screw this up.”

yuuji gave a mock salute, “aye, aye, captain!”

sukuna couldn’t help but smirk, but quickly covered it up with a scowl as they walked in.

you and suguru arrived early at the party, mingling with some of the top players from all industries. dressed in a scarlet gown, you felt like you blended right in with the glamour, while suguru, matching in a dark-red suit, stayed close enough so that you two could exchange subtle glances as you navigated through different groups of people.

meanwhile, sukuna was keeping an eye on yuuji, who was fidgeting next to him. “oi, nii-chan, isn’t that —” yuuji began, his eyes locking onto your figure across the room.

“brat, stop staring,” sukuna growled under his breath, half-annoyed but mostly frustrated. it was almost guaranteed he’d run into you and that bastard suguru at events like this — but now? here? with yuuji around? his blood pressure spiked instantly.

where the hell is yuuji?

his eyes darted around until he saw him — of course — bouncing over toward you as you stood at the bar, ordering a drink. sukuna’s jaw clenched as he watched. martini. how fucking cliché, he scoffed internally. though, admittedly, it did match your dress. but that wasn’t the problem here.

“hi miss!” yuuji’s voice cut through the crowd as he stood in front of you, grinning like an excited puppy.

you blinked in surprise, turning to look at him. “hey, little guy, you lost or something?”

“why does everyone think i’m little?!” yuuji whined, puffing his chest out a little. “i’m literally eighteen…”

“eighteen is still pretty little,” you teased with a smirk. “i can bet you’re the youngest one here.”

yuuji pouted. “ugh, fine… anyways, my name’s yuuji! yuuji itadori, i’m sukun—”

“brat!” sukuna’s growl cut him off as he stormed over, eyes flashing with annoyance.

you raised an eyebrow, recognition flashing in your eyes as soon as you heard that name. "so... yuuji itadori, huh?" you mused with a slight grin, your gaze shifting from yuuji to sukuna, who now stood towering beside him.

sukuna glared at yuuji. “what’d i tell you about running off, huh?”

yuuji sheepishly scratched the back of his neck, looking between you and his brother. “uhh, my bad, bro…”

sukuna was caught between two options: curtly apologize to you for yuuji’s sudden interruption or yank the brat by the collar and lecture him about keeping his head in the game. but as you sipped that ridiculous martini of yours, eyeing him and yuuji like they were some kind of curiosity, he found himself staying put.

"this one’s yours?" you asked, an amused smile playing on your lips. sukuna grunted in response, gripping yuuji's collar just a bit tighter. yuuji winced, squirming under the hold. "ow ow ow — nii-chan!"

you tilted your head, a curious glint in your eyes as you took in the scene. "if i dare guess," you began, your gaze landing squarely on sukuna with a knowing smile, "is the little one part of your marketing team?"

before sukuna could respond, yuuji eagerly jumped in, clearly excited to explain. “yes! i did that! the tiktok i mean, did you like it?”

your laugh was warm and genuine, a sound that only seemed to irritate sukuna more. "a lot of people did," you replied, still holding his gaze as you gave yuuji a nod. "but persephone’s numbers didn’t. you did well, yuuji."

yuuji lit up like a damn firework, beaming as if you’d handed him a golden trophy. sukuna scoffed, his irritation mounting. putting down your own company just to kiss the competition’s ass? what kinda idiot does that? he thought, glaring at you like you were the source of his current migraine. meanwhile, yuuji’s grin seemed to be growing bigger by the second — wasn’t there a limit to how much one person could beam? he could practically light up a whole city with the way he was grinning at you.

disgusting.

“you don’t have to suck up to her,” sukuna grumbled, finally releasing yuuji’s collar and crossing his arms. “her numbers are probably tanking ‘cause of us, and she knows it.”

you raised an eyebrow, sipping your martini like the whole thing was a joke. “maybe so, but your brother’s the reason for that, right?” you said calmly, giving yuuji a wink. “it’s only fair to acknowledge talent where it’s due.”

yuuji blinked, clearly basking in the compliment. "thanks, miss! nii-chan doesn’t say it, but i know he's proud of me."

sukuna shot his brother a look. “don’t push your luck, brat.”

you chuckled at the exchange, swirling the glass in your hand. “oh, i don’t know. seems like he’s doing a good job. maybe you should keep him around a little longer.”

“yeah, nii-chan, maybe i should get a permanent job here!” yuuji chimed in, totally missing the sarcastic undertones flying between the two of you.

sukuna clenched his jaw. great. just what i needed — both of them ganging up on me.

before the banter could progress any further, suguru’s voice cut through the little bubble like a sharp blade. "well, am i interrupting something?" he asked, his tone deceptively smooth, though his eyes were locked on sukuna and yuuji with much less warmth. he smiled at you, a softer, genuine expression, but then he let his gaze linger back on the two brothers. “look what the cat dragged in. as if one wasn’t enough, we now have two.”

sukuna was already seeing red, his fist clenching by his side. you want to throw shots at me? fine. but take a swing at my little brother, and i’ll rip you apart. just as he was about to snap back, ready to tear into suguru, yuuji’s voice cut through the tension in the air.

“dude... what is that haircare routine?” yuuji asked, his eyes wide with genuine curiosity.

the sheer randomness of the question left all three adults in momentary silence. you barely managed to hold back a laugh, your martini glass pressed to your lips as you tried to stifle the sound. suguru, on the other hand, just blinked, dumbfounded, as if he wasn’t sure if yuuji was joking or serious.

“are you… are you serious?” suguru finally asked, his brows furrowing in disbelief.

yuuji nodded earnestly, clearly unaware of the tension that had been suffocating the air moments before. “yeah, dude. it’s, like, so shiny! how do you do it?”

the awkward silence that followed was broken by your quiet scoff of amusement, followed by a smile you tried to hide behind your glass. even suguru, momentarily disarmed, glanced sideways at you, but it was clear that yuuji’s completely unintentional intervention had somehow postponed the inevitable face-off.

for now.

sukuna, though still seething, was momentarily taken aback by his brother’s pure, childlike curiosity, his anger simmering into frustration instead. “are you fuckin’ serious” he muttered under his breath, not entirely sure if he should laugh or smack yuuji upside the head.

suguru shook his head in disbelief, running a hand through his admittedly perfect hair, before giving sukuna a pointed look. “well, i suppose the brat has taste. not everyone can pull this off,” he said, his smugness barely hidden as he flicked his gaze between sukuna and you.

you chuckled, finally lowering your glass. "i don’t know, suguru. maybe he’s got a point." you smiled at yuuji, enjoying the brief moment of levity that, for once, didn’t involve the constant tension between the two men.

“excuse us,” sukuna grunted bluntly, shoving past you and suguru as he dragged yuuji along with him.

“oi, ow ow, ouch — nii-chan, i can walk!” yuuji whined, trying to free himself from sukuna’s iron grip.

“can’t trust you to be ‘walking’ around anywhere anymore, brat,” sukuna shot back, his tone harsh but not without a hint of affection.

“but ’m eighteen! i’m practically a grown-up!” yuuji protested, pouting as he tried to keep up.

“grown-up? please. you’re still a kid in my eyes,” sukuna scoffed, shaking his head. “and you think you can just stroll up to a stranger at a party? she could be a gold digger or something.”

“she’s pretty, you know,” yuuji blurted out, his eyes wide with admiration as he glanced back at you.

“like hell she is! god, i swear the bar gets lower and lower with each generation,” sukuna replied, his voice dripping with disdain, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of curiosity about you.

“what’s wrong with being pretty? you’re just jealous!” yuuji exclaimed, finally breaking free and spinning to face sukuna. “you’re the one who’s grumpy all the time!”

“grumpy? i’m just realistic. just because you think some girl is pretty doesn’t mean she’s not trouble,” sukuna retorted, crossing his arms as he glared at his brother.

“but she’s not trouble! she’s cool! she even said i did a good job on that tiktok!” yuuji defended, excitement sparkling in his eyes.

“yeah, well, that’s probably just her being nice to you,” sukuna replied, rolling his eyes. “i bet she’s just buttering you up.”

“she’s not!” yuuji insisted, his voice rising. “i really think she likes me—”

“likes you? please, she’s probably just being polite,” sukuna interrupted, clearly annoyed. “you’re not exactly a catch, you know.”

“that’s mean!” yuuji shot back, his bottom lip jutting out. “i’m a great catch! i’ve got mad skills!”

“mad skills? like what, jumping around and acting like a fool? you’re a kid, yuuji. stay in your lane,” sukuna scoffed, his tone lightening just a bit.

meanwhile, back at the bar, suguru’s usually composed face is clouded with concern. “you’re okay, right? he didn’t say anything? hurt you? touch y—”

“sugu, i’m fine! really,” you reply, an exasperated smile tugging at your lips. he lets out a grumble, clearly still irritated, as he plops down next to you on the perched bar stool. his hand reaches out for yours in a quiet, almost shy gesture of reassurance.

“sukuna may be an ass, but he won’t compromise on yuuji’s safety by starting a scene,” you add, trying to ease his worry.

“you know that kid?” suguru asks, eyebrows raised in mild surprise.

“more or less. i used to make monthly bank transfers to a ‘yuuji itadori,’ so i’m guessing it’s him,” you explain with a shrug.

“huh, guess that pink-haired fiend actually has a heart somewhere in there.” suguru scoffs, shaking his head.

“suguru!” you nudge him with your elbow, stifling a laugh.

“no, but seriously,” he softens, his gaze searching your face. “you good, vino? I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“yeah, i’m fine. i was... kinda expecting him here, you know. and besides, i’’m over it,” you say, a hint of finality in your tone. you take a breath, glancing around the room before turning back to him with a playful roll of your eyes. “and can you please stop calling me vino?”

“what! it sounds classy,” suguru grins, clearly enjoying your reaction.

“classy? it sounds like i’m a bottle on the top shelf at a wine shop,” you reply, feigning annoyance but unable to keep the smile from spreading across your face.

“hey, if the shoe fits…” he teases, his grip on your hand tightening briefly, a small reminder that he’s always got your back — even when sukuna’s around.

“no, but seriously,” suguru leans in, his tone soft yet firm. “you don’t need to worry about sukuna. you’re in your own element right now. don’t let pinkie pie over there ruin it for you.”

you let out a laugh, his words pulling you out of your thoughts, and suguru's smile deepens as he watches the corners of your lips lift. god, he loved seeing you smile like that. it’s moments like these that make him grateful you came out stronger. though he hated the rough patches you’d been through, there was nothing he admired more than your resilience. he realized just how much he loved seeing you happy, and he hated the thought of you ever hurting, especially because of someone like sukuna. that bastard had taken enough from you, but here you were, standing taller than ever, glowing even. and suguru loved that about you — the way you’d come out of the storm stronger. even when things got tough, you always found a way to push through.

but it didn’t stop him from worrying. it never would.

“you know i got you, right?” he asked quietly, almost as if he needed to remind you — but also himself. his grip tightened just a bit, an anchor in the noisy room.

when you smiled and squeezed his hand back, saying, "of course i do, sugu," it was like the weight on his chest lightened just a little.

screw sukuna, he thought. no matter what came next, as long as you had him, you wouldn’t be facing anything alone. and that was all that mattered.

he nods, but there’s a twinge of frustration simmering beneath the surface. he wants to protect you from all the bullshit that comes with this industry, especially from someone like sukuna. he knows you’re tough and capable, but that doesn’t stop him from wishing he could shield you from the chaos.

“just… keep doing what you’re doing. you’re incredible, and you deserve every bit of success coming your way.” his gaze holds yours, sincere and unwavering. he knows you’ve faced challenges, and he’s proud to stand by you, no matter what.

“thanks, suguru. it means a lot.” your voice is soft, and for a moment, the noise of the party fades into the background, leaving just the two of you in your little bubble of understanding.

“cursed vintages: sip the darkness, savor the power? you can’t be serious.”

you stared in disbelief at the large billboard advertising sukuna’s latest venture. of course, it was dramatic, leaning into the over-the-top theatrics that fit his brand. cursed vintages was a direct competitor to your upcoming release, spirited whispers: a hauntingly light sip for your eerie nights! the timing was too convenient, almost as if sukuna had planned it just to outshine you. you couldn’t help but scoff at the absurd tagline — sip the darkness, savor the power — it was so him.

as frustrating as it was, you knew sukuna’s bold play was part of a larger strategy. he'd always aimed to dominate, but he wouldn't dare cross the line by doing something illegal, like price-fixing. that wasn’t his style. sukuna might be ruthless, but he wasn't careless, and losing face over something so reckless wasn't in the cards for him.

you cast an irritated glance at the massive advertisement towering over your office’s commercial district. sukuna and a model posed elegantly on either side of his new wine, their faces shadowed by the bold branding. sukuna’s smirk was infuriating, like he knew exactly how much it would annoy you. it was clear he was leveraging his good looks to boost sales and push his brand, playing on his appeal in the most obvious way.

but you weren’t one to back down. as you studied the billboard, an idea sparked in your mind — something bold, something that could turn the tables.

“sugu! i’ve got an idea,” you burst into suguru’s office, a mischievous grin on your face. “but…you need to get shirtless for this.”

suguru’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “what now?” he asked, leaning back in his chair, clearly skeptical of whatever plan you had.

“you heard me,” you replied, undeterred. “we’re gonna hit sukuna where it hurts — if he’s going to flaunt his looks to sell wine, then we’ll do the same.”

suguru gave you a half-laugh, half-sigh. “so…your genius marketing plan involves me stripping down?”

you nodded, a grin playing on your lips. “trust me, it’ll work. we need something bold, something viral. a frat party-style ad, with you right in the middle of it. everyone will be talking about it.”

he shook his head, chuckling. “fine, but only because you asked.”

within days, your ad was everywhere. people couldn’t get enough of it — the combination of modern-day recession pop music and the carefree, chaotic energy of a frat party resonated across generations. the low-budget aesthetic only made it more relatable, especially with suguru’s shirtless appearance front and center, surrounded by a crowd of partygoers. spirited whispers became the go-to drink for college parties, nostalgic millennials, and even curious onlookers who wanted a piece of the action.

sales skyrocketed. within a week and a half, your six-month stock was completely sold out. spirited whispers had blown up in ways you hadn’t anticipated, becoming a cultural phenomenon. and the best part? sukuna was furious.

back at sukuna’s office, yuuji was taking the fallout personally. slouched in one of the chairs, he sighed. “it’s my fault, right? we didn’t work hard enough, and now persephone’s–”

“it’s not your fault, brat,” sukuna cut him off sharply, his frustration evident but not directed at his younger brother. seeing yuuji’s dejected expression made sukuna bristle. “you’re just an intern. whatever you did, you did it well, so stop moping around like this.”

yuuji looked up, surprised by the rare hint of praise. “i’ll work harder, nii-chan! i’ll make you proud, i promise.”

sukuna’s heart clenched slightly at yuuji’s words. despite his tough exterior, moments like these reminded him why he was so driven to succeed. everything he did, all the ruthless business tactics, it was for his family, especially yuuji.

before sukuna could respond, uraume, his most trusted employee, stormed into the office, looking uncharacteristically rattled. “sir, you need to see this,” they said urgently, handing sukuna a tablet. the headline blared in bold, sensationalized text:

"former secretary to powerful business mogul becomes rival: y/n’s rise to stardom amidst scandal"

sukuna’s jaw clenched as he read the article. of course, they were dredging up old rumors, trying to link your past employment under him to some scandalous narrative. the tabloids had clearly caught wind of your recent success, and now they were out for blood, twisting your story into something salacious.

this wasn’t just business anymore. sukuna’s anger simmered beneath the surface, but his mind was already moving. it was time to put an end to this.

“schedule a meeting,” sukuna said coldly.

“with who?” uraume asked, though they already had a good idea.

“with y/n,” sukuna answered, his eyes narrowing. “it’s time we settled this.”

“you got mail, vino,” suguru teased as he stepped into your office, holding up his tablet with a faint grin. “pinkie pie wants to set up a meeting tomorrow.”

you raised an eyebrow, half-amused, half-skeptical. “all it took was you getting shirtless for him to come visit us, suguru,” you teased, trying to keep the mood light despite the hint of tension beneath your words.

but suguru didn’t laugh. instead, his expression shifted slightly, his tone more serious. “not us, y/n. just you. he… asked for you, specifically.”

the way he said it made your stomach drop. “what do you mean, sugu?”

suguru sighed, his easy demeanor replaced by something more somber. “y/n, this meeting… it’s not just about the wine. someone published a full-length tabloid piece. on you and sukuna.”

your blood ran cold. all the teasing left your body, replaced by a sinking feeling of dread. “sugu, tell me you’re lying,” you said, your voice shaky, desperately hoping this was just another one of his jokes.

he looked at you with regret in his eyes, shaking his head. “i’m not, y/n. i’m sorry. we’re already working to get it removed from our end, but it’s all over the place.”

his words felt distant, muffled, as your thoughts spiraled. the whole reason you’d thrown yourself into this business, the late nights, the strategy, the risks — it was all to make a name for yourself. to not be associated with sukuna, to stand on your own feet and build something without his shadow looming over you. but now it felt like all that effort had been undone, like your entire identity was being dragged back into his orbit.

why did it feel like no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t escape him? were you that devoid of luck, of any hope for a clean slate, let alone a happy ending?

your hands gripped the edge of your desk as you fought to steady your breath, your mind racing. suguru stepped closer, concern softening his voice. “y/n, we’ll figure this out. this isn’t the end.”

but all you could think about was tomorrow. the meeting. facing sukuna again.

sukuna strode into your office building, lips curling into a sneer as he scanned the crowd of employees milling around. "what the fuck is this place?," he muttered under his breath, eyes narrowing at the laid-back environment. 

some people were dressed so casually he had to wonder if they were on their way to a beach party instead of working. baggy t-shirts, sneakers, and even someone in what looked like pajama pants — it was a far cry from the cutthroat atmosphere of his own office. how the hell did you run a successful business with this ragtag bunch?

but, sukuna wasn’t an idiot. persephone’s numbers were some of the best in the industry. these kids — these kids were the ones who’d been fucking with his sales for weeks now. and he couldn’t deny it, no matter how much he hated it. never trust a book by its cover, right? even if this office looked like a frat house, it clearly delivered results.

still, the sight of it grated on him. made his skin crawl. "what a goddamn joke," he thought, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets as he made his way to your office.

the moment he pushed open the door, though, expecting to see you, he stopped dead in his tracks. it wasn’t your figure behind the desk — it was suguru, leaning casually back in your chair like he owned the place.

“what the fuck is this, now?” sukuna's voice was harsh, his frustration immediately bubbling over. he hadn’t come here to deal with your right-hand man.

suguru, unfazed by sukuna’s usual brashness, just smiled, sitting up slightly. “sorry, y/n’s not here right now. emergency shipping issue. had to send her out across the city. guess you’re stuck with me.”

sukuna’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “you really think i’m gonna believe that shit? sounds like a fuckin’ excuse to avoid me.”

suguru shrugged, clearly not bothered by sukuna’s attitude. “believe what you want, man. i’m just telling you how it is. besides,” he added with a smirk, “what’d you need y/n for anyway? i’m perfectly capable of handling a little business negotiation.”

the office was large, sleek, and modern — surprisingly professional compared to the chaos outside. it pissed sukuna off more that everything was in perfect order, like you’d been expecting him to show up. the leather chair, the spotless glass desk — it all looked ready to welcome him. except it wasn’t you sitting there, it was this fucker.

sukuna gritted his teeth, the itch to throw suguru out of the chair gnawing at him. he wasn’t used to being thrown off like this. this was supposed to be simple, just get in, handle things with you, and get the hell out. now he was stuck, dealing with suguru and his cool, unbothered demeanor.

“look, i don’t got time for this bullshit. where the hell is she?” sukuna growled.

suguru leaned forward slightly, still maintaining that infuriating smile. “she’s not avoiding you, sukuna. but you showing up like this… it’s kinda unnecessary, don’t you think? it’s not like y/n’s going anywhere. if there’s something you want to talk about, i’m right here. what’s the rush?”

sukuna snorted, anger barely restrained. “don’t fucking act like you know what this is about.”

suguru tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. “actually, i do. i know about the tabloid. i know why you’re here. but that doesn’t mean y/n has to deal with your shit, sukuna.”

sukuna felt his blood boil. this asshole, stepping in like he knew everything. like he could stop him from getting what he wanted. "you're lucky you're still in that chair, you smug piece of shit."

suguru’s calm never wavered. “and you’re lucky i’m still talking to you. trust me, y/n doesn’t need your bullshit right now.”

sukuna glared daggers at him, the whole situation making him want to smash something. "fuck this," he thought, but deep down, he knew suguru had pulled a fast one on him. he could feel it, a tightness in his chest, like the whole reason he came here was slipping out of his grasp. you. he’d wanted to see you. confront you. and now… now he was just left fuming at a man who wouldn’t budge.

sukuna, jaw tight, took a deep breath. as much as he wanted to throw suguru through the fucking window, he knew they needed to get this over with. he wasn’t the type to drag out bullshit conversations, and if this was the only way to move things along, then so be it.

“fine,” sukuna growled, leaning back in the chair across from suguru. “let’s talk business then. i’m proposing a collaboration between ryomen and persephone.”

the words sounded alien coming from his mouth, like some kind of bitter aftertaste. sukuna wasn’t one to collaborate with anyone, let alone with someone who had been running circles around him lately. but he wasn’t dumb. christmas was coming, and after that, new year’s — the prime season for wine sales. speaking purely from a business perspective, it made sense. persephone had the youth market in their pocket, and sukuna had the high-end crowd. together, they could dominate both.

suguru raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that. “a collaboration? you’re serious?”

“do i look like i’m fucking joking?” sukuna snapped, running a hand through his hair, the irritation visible in his body language. “look, i don’t like this shit any more than you do. but it’s smart, and it’ll work. your low-alcohol crap and my high-end shit? we could wipe out the competition through the end of the year. christmas, new year’s — people are buying like crazy. we take advantage of it.”

suguru leaned back in your chair, crossing his arms as he watched sukuna. “what’s the catch?”

sukuna narrowed his eyes. “there’s no fucking catch. it’s a straightforward deal. we both profit. easy as that.”

but suguru wasn’t buying it. “yeah, sure. but what happens when you sideline us? when ryomen suddenly take the spotlight and persephone’s pushed out of the picture?” suguru’s voice was steady, but his words were sharp. he wasn’t falling for any tricks.

sukuna clenched his fists, his temper flaring again. “you think i’m a fucking cheat? that i’m gonna fuck you guys over just because i can?” he stood up, looming over suguru. “i might be a lot of things, but when it comes to business, i don’t fuck around. if i say we’re in this together, we’re fucking in it together.”

suguru didn’t flinch, even as sukuna loomed over him, radiating barely contained rage. “you’ll forgive me if i don’t take you at your word, sukuna.”

sukuna let out a bitter laugh, stepping back slightly, but still glaring down at suguru. “you’re paranoid, geto. but fine, i get it. i’m not asking you to trust me. i’m asking you to look at the numbers. this works. you know it does.”

suguru studied sukuna for a moment before responding, his tone calm. “even if i do entertain this idea, what’s stopping you from trying to bulldoze us in the future?”

sukuna’s patience snapped. “because i don’t need to! i got my own goddamn empire to run. you think i’ve got time to fuck around with your company? this is a one-time deal. you either take it or you don’t. and trust me, geto, if you don’t, you’ll regret it.”

there was a heavy silence between them, the weight of sukuna’s words hanging in the air. it was clear that, while he was brash and crude, sukuna wasn’t here to mess around.

as much as suguru wanted to tell sukuna to fuck off, he knew this wasn’t a decision he could make on his own, not without your input. he couldn’t afford to be reckless, no matter how tempting it was to tell sukuna exactly where to shove his so-called “collaboration.”

suguru gave a tight-lipped smile, standing up from behind your desk. “we’ll think about it and get back to you.”

sukuna’s eyes flashed with frustration, his jaw clenching as he stepped closer to suguru. “you better make it quick,” he growled, the warning clear in his voice.

suguru didn’t flinch, holding his ground. “we’ll be in touch,” he said, his tone firm but not aggressive, making it clear that the conversation was over.

with a scoff, sukuna turned on his heel and stormed out, the tension in the air still thick even after he was gone. suguru let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, sitting back down and rubbing his temples. as much as he hated dealing with sukuna, he knew this was something you’d need to decide.

“hey, vino, how was the shipping —”

“geto, why did you lie to me?”

your voice cut through the room like a blade, sharp and cold. suguru, lounging comfortably on the sofa like he owned the place, straightened up immediately, the usual warmth of your voice replaced by something far more biting. being called "geto" instead of "sugu" was all he needed to know that he was in trouble — deep trouble.

he glanced up at you, eyes widening slightly at your expression. you were pissed, more than he had anticipated. “wait, hold on — what are you talking about?”

you slammed your bag onto the nearest table, glaring at him like you were about to explode. “you lied to me about the emergency, suguru! what the hell? you sent me on some bogus errand just so i’d miss sukuna showing up at the office? are you out of your goddamn mind?”

suguru winced at the bluntness of your words. he knew you’d be mad, but this? this was worse than he’d thought. “look, i just didn’t want you dealing with that asshole today, alright? you’ve been stressed, and —"

“so you thought lying to me and sending me on a wild goose chase would help?!” you snapped, pacing angrily. “you made me look like an idiot, suguru! and for what? to protect me from sukuna? i can handle myself, you know.”

he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “i know you can, but —"

“no, you don’t know!” you cut him off, your frustration bubbling over. “you don’t get to decide how i handle my shit. i needed to be there for that meeting, and now you’ve just made it ten times worse!”

he opened his mouth to respond, but you weren’t having it. “you’re not my babysitter, suguru. stop treating me like some delicate fucking flower.”

as you stood there, fuming, suguru got up from the sofa and walked toward you with that irritatingly calm demeanor of his. “come on, sweetheart, calm down for a sec,” he called for you softly, even though you wanted to stay mad at him. his hand found its way to your arm, rubbing slow, calming circles as he stood close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him.

you hated how easily he could chip away at your anger like this. you let out a tired sigh, the fight draining out of you, leaning your head lightly against his shoulder. “suguru, this was still messed up,” you muttered, though the sharpness in your tone had softened.

he felt his heart race at the contact, but kept his expression cool. “i know, i know. i was just trying to look out for you, but i get it — you don’t need me to do that.” he paused, his voice dropping slightly, “about the meeting... sukuna proposed a deal. a collaboration for the holiday season.”

you pulled back just enough to look at him. “a deal? with sukuna?” the skepticism was clear in your voice.

“yeah. i don’t like it either, but it could be good for business,” he said, his thumb still tracing soothing patterns on your arm. “i figured we’d at least consider it.”

you sighed again, your frustration ebbing into something more like exhaustion. “alright. let’s take the deal. but next time, no more bullshit, okay?”

he gave a small smile, relief washing over him. “okay.”

suguru pulled out his phone and quickly texted your secretary to notify sukuna that they’d agree to the proposal. as he sent the message, he couldn’t help but glance at you, still leaning slightly against him. his heart was beating faster than it should’ve, but he ignored it, focusing instead on getting business done.

“don’t ask, the brat insisted he sit here.” sukuna scoffed, gesturing at yuuji, who was practically bouncing in his seat, excitement radiating off him. it was hard to blame him, though; after all, they were making history here — ryomen collaborating with persephone.

“so, pretty simple — we start a joint venture solely for the christmas and new year’s season, walk out with the profits, and pretend this never happened. deal?” sukuna stated, leaning back in his chair with an air of casual confidence.

“wow, nii-chan, you make a multi-billion deal sound so simple,” yuuji chimed in, his wide eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. he received an annoyed glare from sukuna in response.

“he’s right,” you spoke up for the first time since entering the room, your voice steady. “we still need to discuss a lot more things in detail.”

sukuna scowled at you, torn between respect for your attention to detail and irritation that this wasn’t as straightforward as he’d hoped. “what more is there to discuss? we’re splitting profits, that’s it.”

you leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table. “for starters, we need to decide how the marketing will work. are we promoting under both brands or focusing solely on one? and how do we plan to handle distribution?”

sukuna shrugged, leaning back as if your questions didn’t faze him. “we just let our teams figure that out. they’re good at what they do. just make sure to keep your eye on your side of things.”

“that’s not exactly a solid plan,” you replied, your tone firm. “if we don’t have a cohesive strategy, we risk losing customers on both sides.”

“so you want to babysit my team?” he shot back, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“no, i want to ensure that this partnership is beneficial for both of us,” you retorted, holding his gaze. “we need to figure out our target audience and how to appeal to them. plus, we should set clear expectations for each party involved.”

yuuji, sensing the rising tension, jumped in, trying to diffuse the situation. “what if we create a special holiday blend? something unique to this collaboration? that way, we can market it together and have fun with it!”

sukuna looked at yuuji, momentarily surprised by the suggestion. “not a terrible idea, brat. but what’s your point?”

“it’ll give us something to push on social media, too! and if we make it limited edition, people will rush to buy it. we can use both of your brands to create buzz,” yuuji explained, his enthusiasm infectious.

“i like that,” you said, nodding in agreement. “it adds value and creates urgency. plus, we can promote it as a holiday exclusive, which will draw in more customers.”

sukuna crossed his arms, still skeptical. “fine, let’s say we go with that. but what’s next? i’m not wasting time on endless meetings.”

“then let’s set a timeline,” you suggested, jotting down notes on your tablet. “we need deadlines for marketing materials, production schedules, and launch dates. if we want this to work, we need to be organized.”

“alright, let’s lay it out,” sukuna relented, though he still had that signature scowl on his face. “but you better not fuck this up for me, or you’ll be hearing from me.”

you smirked, feeling a sense of accomplishment. “trust me, sukuna. if anyone’s going to fuck this up, it won’t be me.”

the collaboration between ryomen and persephone was the talk of the town post-halloween. the launch of your joint christmas and new year holiday special didn’t just turn heads — it seemed to capture the attention of every major sector. market analysts were buzzing with reports about the wine industry’s trajectory, forecasting the impact your collaboration would have on both your companies’ market shares. singers and actors began endorsing your holiday blend, and even some of the biggest names in the industry wanted in. you and sukuna even managed to rope in mariah carey herself — a massive investment that nearly drained both of your wallets. but with profits flooding in almost immediately after, it felt more like a minor hiccup than a real setback.

tabloids, unsurprisingly, had a field day with it. their favorite narrative? that you were using your past connection with sukuna to get ahead in the market. "she’s leveraging her history with him,” they’d gossip. but just as quickly, the defense came: “they just hate to see a girlboss winning.” the tabloids were shut down by the people, who were more focused on how well the collaboration was doing rather than who was behind it.

honestly, working with sukuna wasn’t nearly as bad as you thought it’d be. sure, there was the occasional scowl or blunt comment at board meetings, but sukuna seemed to have more of a professional demeanor when it came to business. you only saw him once or twice during presentations or negotiations, and whenever you did, suguru was always close by. he’d be leaning in with a quick comment, making sure you felt comfortable, making it easier to shrug off sukuna’s sharper remarks.

things were actually starting to look good for once. there was hope, a sense of optimism that maybe things could keep going this well. your company was thriving, the collaboration was a success, and your name was gaining even more recognition in the industry.

until that damn christmas party.

the festive atmosphere had been building up for weeks — holiday music, the smell of mulled wine and cinnamon, twinkling lights strung up across your office’s ceiling. persephone and ryomen had decided to throw a joint christmas bash for both companies to celebrate the success of your holiday line. everything seemed to be going smoothly. 

that was, until things started to go a bit too smoothly.

everything was fine and dandy until you thought, why not have a sip of ryomen wine? after all, it had been so long since you'd last tried it, right? but the moment that familiar taste hit your tongue, you knew it was a mistake. was it the wine itself, or the flood of memories that came rushing back — of nights you'd rather forget, when alcohol was more of a crutch than a choice?

your stomach turned violently, the nausea creeping up your throat until you couldn't hold it in. before you knew it, you were dry heaving, the sound breaking through the music and laughter in the room. then, you lost it. you puked, right there in front of everyone — the guests, the business partners, the employees, all staring in shock.

"sugu, i–" you tried to say, but the words were caught in your throat as you bent over, heaving again.

"shit, y/n, hold on," suguru rushed to your side, worry etched all over his face as he gently gripped your shoulders, guiding you away from the crowd. "breathe, okay? just breathe."

uraume, always quick on their feet, swiftly called in a medic who had been on standby, just in case. “i’ve alerted the medic,” they said calmly, though their eyes betrayed the concern they felt seeing you like this.

but sukuna? he stood there, silent. frozen. for the first time in a long while, he didn't know what to feel. frustration, maybe? anger? embarrassment? or was it something else entirely — something closer to concern, though he’d never admit it, even to himself.

"fuck," sukuna muttered under his breath, the scowl on his face deepening as he watched the scene unfold. why the hell did she even drink that? part of him was annoyed, but there was a tug, something gnawing at him that he couldn't quite place. maybe it was the realization that seeing you like this affected him more than it should.

suguru glanced up at sukuna, his expression hard, almost daring him to say something. “you gonna stand there, or help?” he spat, one arm still supporting you as you struggled to get your bearings.

sukuna’s jaw tightened, but instead of snapping back, he turned and walked away from the scene, his fists clenched. "fuck this."

everyone seemed more interested in sukuna’s abrupt departure than the fact that you had just puked. the whispers and gossip quickly shifted from your heaving to the sight of ryomen sukuna walking out of the party without a word. sure, it wasn’t uncommon for people to get a little sick during the holidays — too much food, too much wine — but for sukuna to just up and leave while his business partner was clearly unwell? that was unheard of.

“did you see him just walk out? what the hell’s his problem?”

“seriously? with y/n being sick? kinda heartless.”

you could hear the murmurs from the washroom as you splashed cold water onto your face, trying to steady yourself. was it the wine? the memories? you weren’t sure anymore. your throat still burned, the taste of bile lingering as you rinsed your mouth. but it wasn’t just the physical reaction that made your chest tighten — it was everything else. why now? why here?

yuuji stood by the door, fidgeting awkwardly, his usual energy subdued. “you okay? need any more help?” he asked softly, his voice full of genuine concern. “i brought some mints if you want,” he added, pulling a small tin from his pocket, as if that could make things any better.

“thanks, yuuji,” you mumbled, forcing a small smile despite the situation. the sweetness in his gesture almost brought a tear to your eye.

suguru, on the other hand, was more serious, standing next to you as you dabbed a towel to your lips. “i knew this was a bad idea. should’ve pulled you out earlier,” he muttered under his breath, his hand hovering near your back, ready to steady you if you faltered again. “screw sukuna for making things worse.”

you shook your head, trying to dismiss the weight of it all. “it’s not his fault. i mean... i should’ve known better than to drink that.”

suguru’s expression darkened slightly at your words. “don’t defend him, y/n. he walked out like a dick while you’re here puking your guts out. that’s all i need to know.”

outside the washroom, uraume stood with quiet composure, offering their silent support. they didn’t say anything, but you knew. they couldn’t show outright sympathy — not with their loyalty to sukuna so visibly on display. but their presence alone was reassuring, as if they were silently letting you know that you weren’t alone in this.

“uraume...you don’t have to wait outside, you know,” you called out, your voice a little shaky.

“i know,” they replied evenly, their tone cool yet gentle. “but i’ll remain here, just in case.” their respect for boundaries was evident, but it didn’t make their support any less felt.

you let out a long, shaky breath, staring at your reflection in the mirror. your eyes were red-rimmed, but whether that was from the nausea or the emotional weight, you couldn’t tell. the memories tied to that damn wine were coming back, thick and heavy, clouding your thoughts.

why did it feel like this partnership was costing you more than you ever anticipated?

“this isn’t just about tonight,” you finally admitted aloud, though it was more to yourself than anyone else. suguru caught the shift in your tone, a flicker of worry crossing his face.

“what do you mean?” suguru asked, frowning.

you shook your head. “nothing... it’s just... all of this. it’s taking more of a toll on me than i thought.”

“then maybe it’s time to pull back,” suguru suggested, his voice steady but protective. “you don’t have to keep pushing yourself for this partnership. not if it’s dragging you down.”

you wiped at the corner of your eye, the unshed tears barely noticeable. “i don’t know if i can afford to pull back.”

suguru reached for your hand, his touch warm against your cold fingers. “then we’ll figure it out. together.”

with a small nod, you let out another deep breath, grateful for the support of the people who stayed, even while sukuna — and your past — walked out of the room.

sukuna sat at his desk, shoulders tense as he glared at the numbers flashing across his computer screen. he wasn’t reading them — hadn’t been for a while now. the only thing running through his mind was the scene from earlier, of you heaving in front of everyone at that damn christmas party. it left a bad taste in his mouth, one he couldn’t seem to wash away. and it wasn't just the wine or the party.

he heard the quiet creak of his office door opening but didn’t turn. he knew it was uraume before they even spoke.

“how’s she?” he asked, his voice blunt, the edge of irritation barely masked. he didn’t look up from the screen, but his mind had already drifted far from his work.

“she’s alright,” uraume said, tone calm despite their own weariness. “your brother and her partner were there for her.”

sukuna grunted. he was relieved but didn’t say it. the fact that you had been taken care of wasn’t the issue — it was the nagging frustration gnawing at him. he wasn’t sure what to call it. anger? guilt? neither of those felt right. his brow furrowed deeper, fingers tapping impatiently on the desk as uraume lingered in the doorway.

they stood silently for a moment before finally daring to speak, stepping into the lion’s den with a quiet firmness. “you know, walking out like that…” uraume started, carefully choosing their words. “it wasn’t your best decision.”

sukuna’s eyes flicked up at that, narrowing slightly. “the fuck are you getting at?” his voice was sharp, a bite in his tone that dared them to continue. uraume had always been one of the few who could speak openly to him, but even they knew the risks of poking at the king of curses when he was in a mood.

“she was sick. and you left.” uraume crossed their arms, unshaken by sukuna’s glare. “it’s not just about appearances. it’s about how you handled the situation. or didn’t handle it.”

sukuna’s jaw clenched. "she’s not my fucking problem, alright? i don’t owe her anything," he snapped, a low growl rumbling in his chest. “i’m not her babysitter. she got too into the wine, and it’s not my job to stand around coddling her like some fuckin’ weakling.”

uraume’s gaze didn’t waver. “it wasn’t about babysitting her. it was about showing you gave a damn. even if you don’t owe her anything, she’s still your business partner for the time being.”

sukuna scoffed, pushing his chair back and standing up abruptly. “don’t lecture me about giving a damn, uraume. i’ve done enough, and i’m not gonna sit around and play nice just because she puked at a party.”

but uraume wasn’t done. they stepped closer, their calm demeanor unshaken by sukuna’s rising frustration. “you’re not stupid. you know that partnership took more out of her than you think. her past with you, everything… it’s all coming back to haunt her. you walking away just made it worse.”

sukuna’s fist slammed onto the desk, the loud bang echoing through the room. “what the hell do you expect me to do? pat her on the back and tell her it’s all sunshine and rainbows? fuck that. she knew what she was getting into.”

uraume remained calm. “maybe she did, but you didn’t have to make it harder for her.”

sukuna’s eyes darkened, tension crackling in the air. “don’t tell me how to handle my shit. i’ve got enough to deal with without worrying about her.” he was almost growling now, but uraume held their ground, unflinching.

“you may not need to worry about her,” uraume said quietly, “but that doesn’t mean you should go out of your way to hurt her. you left for a reason tonight. you felt something, even if you won’t admit it.”

sukuna stared at them, his lips pulled into a scowl, but he said nothing. the silence stretched, heavy with unspoken tension. he hated that uraume was right, even if he wouldn’t admit it. he had felt something. a pang of discomfort, maybe even guilt. watching you like that had stirred something inside him, and that feeling had only made him angrier.

he didn’t know how to process it, so he had walked away.

with a sigh, uraume took a step back, sensing that pushing further would only provoke him more. “think about it, ryomen,” they said softly before turning to leave.

as the door closed behind them, sukuna sank back into his chair, his mind racing. he hated feeling like this — like there was something clawing at him from the inside, something he couldn’t control. and the worst part? it was all because of you.

he scowled, running a hand through his hair. "fucking hell," he muttered under his breath. you had gotten under his skin, and he wasn’t sure what pissed him off more — your presence or the fact that he cared enough to notice.

hi lovelies <3 taglist is still open, please have your age displayed in your bio to be added. this will gradually deal with darker themes, and i wish everyone to be of age (AKA 18+) before adding them. thank you for understanding! let me know how you liked this chapter (: if you don't have your age in your bio and you still ask to be added, i'll just ignore your request. please read the above! produced by creamflix on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, modify, repost — support your writers by liking and reblogging. ♡ banners by cafekitsune

[loveinhawkins]

Part 1

Silently, they swap seats. It feels ridiculous, how perfectly the whole exchange goes, how no-one else stirs, how the RV glides smoothly with Eddie's hands on the wheel.

“What about, uh, the walkman?” he asks, tries to sound matter-of-fact. Time for a new plan, time to think.

“No,” Steve says. There's a finality to his tone. “Max should keep it.”

Eddie exhales. “Okay, okay. There's—here, there's a radio.” He doesn't mention the fact that he's closer; knows that his hand would shake if he tried to reach for it. “Be great if you'd develop an emotional attachment to, like, all of the Top 40 right now, Harrington.”

There's a soft sound that might almost be a laugh. Eddie listens to Steve quietly moving around then returning to his seat, hears the static of the radio being turned on—volume low, as if Steve doesn't want to wake anyone up. The thoughtfulness, even now, makes something in Eddie's chest hurt.

But there's nothing, not even a whisper of a song, and then even the static stops. Steve has turned the radio off.

One second.

“No signal,” Steve says, and even though he's not looking at him, Eddie knows he's shrugging again, like it is what it is.

The panic Eddie had briefly kept at bay while trying to strategize comes flooding back. “Jesus Christ, this—this can't be happening.” There's another long pause, and Eddie inhales shakily, remembers how he hadn't noticed when Chrissy fell silent. “Hey, man, you've gotta—keep talking to me, okay, or I'm gonna lose it.” Let me know you're still here. Please.

“Sorry,” Steve says. “Talking. Um.”

“Um,” Eddie parrots. “Wow. Didn't finishing school teach you conversation skills?”

Steve laughs again—hushed but real. “Fuck off.” He sighs, then says, “God, this might be a weird thing to say—”

“Colour me intrigued.”

“—but I'm so relieved, dude, you have no idea.”

“You're right. That's an extremely fucking weird thing to say.”

“I didn't want it to be Max,” Steve says, so heartfelt that Eddie tightens his grip on the wheel. “Didn't want it to be... anyone, you know? It's—yeah, it's better like this.”

“‘Better’ is a strong word for it.”

“Mm. Like, come on, what's the worst he could have in store for me? The summer our AC broke, that was pretty rough—”

“Don't,” Eddie says sharply, and all at once the joking tone they'd built up evaporates. “Don't do that.”

“Do what?”

“Don't...” Eddie swallows. Recalls when he'd cut through the gym to get to Drama Club, how he'd glance over at Cheer Practice and think, They've all got it made, haven't they? Shiny fucking picture-perfect lives. “Don't bullshit me, all right?”

“...Okay.”

Eddie scoffs weakly, tries to regain the banter they were sharing. “Hey, if you can't be honest now, when can you?”

“Sure, that's—that's fair.” Steve shifts in his seat. “I was talking to Max, about the... when it happened to her. And she said she thought of happy memories, so. Got an idea of what to expect, at least.”

“Cool,” Eddie says, the mild tone only barely covering his anxiety. “Know what you're thinking about, then?”

“Yeah,” Steve replies. He's smiling; Eddie can hear it. “Got a few things in mind.”

“Good, that's... that's good.”

The road is getting more familiar: it won't be long until they're nearing the Welcome to Hawkins sign.

“Kinda impressed with you, Munson. Was expecting you to drive like a bat out of hell.”

“Ha, ha. Special occasion, and all—”

A pained gasp cuts through the air, and Eddie's stomach lurches. “Shit, shit, Steve—”

“I'm fine,” Steve says quickly, “I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine.”

“Tell me the fucking truth. Please.”

“It's just my head. Hurts a bit. Not a big deal, I've had worse.”

From the clipped way Steve is speaking, Eddie knows it's more painful than he's letting on.

He slows and brakes at a stop light before taking the chance to, finally, look over.

Steve is staring straight ahead, eyes in focus, and Eddie suppresses a sigh of relief at the sight. But then he sees how Steve's jaw is clenched.

“How's the clock?” he says cautiously. Prays for a miracle.

“Still there. It's closer. And, um...” Steve's mouth opens, closes, opens again. “I'm guessing the black widows on the dashboard aren’t actually...?”

God, he says it so easily. Eddie can't comprehend the bravery of it. “No, there’s nothing there,” he says.

“S'okay,” Steve says, “I'll just look at you.”

“I've been told I'm a sight for sore eyes,” Eddie says dryly.

“Oh, I’d believe that,” Steve returns, somehow both matching Eddie’s tone and sounding completely sincere. He turns to Eddie and smiles. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“This bit really isn’t so bad, Eddie,” Steve says gently. “Just some spooky pictures, really. That’s kids’ stuff. And you’re—you’re good company.” The light changes. Eddie looks away with reluctance, starts up the engine again. “I try my best,” he says lightly, and wonders how someone can be so close to… to… (he can’t say it; he won’t say it). So close to that, and still smile about it.

You’re incredible, Steve Harrington.

“Home sweet home,” Eddie murmurs as they pass the Welcome sign. “Hey, we made pretty good time, too.”

“I didn’t mean to be late,” Steve says nonsensically.

“What the—?”

“I didn’t, Dad, I didn’t. I’m not lying.”

There’s ice in Eddie’s veins. “No, no, no, stop—stay with me Steve,” he says, which is so fucking stupid, what, did he think he could solve this through sheer force of will? No matter how many times he begged, Chrissy never woke up.

But then Steve gasps, and it sounds like he did at Lover’s Lake, just before he got dragged back under. “Sorry, sorry. I’m still here.”

“Jesus. We’re—we’re here.” “We’re…? Right, yeah.” A deep breath. “Okay. New plan. My place first,” Steve says firmly. “We'll drop the kids off.” There's an unshakable resolve in his voice.

Eddie takes the next turning, doesn’t even enjoy the double take that Steve does at that, the fact that Eddie already knows his address. When he glances over, he sees beads of sweat on Steve’s face. Eddie speeds up.

Please, please. Just hold on.

[carriesthewind]

Good evening everyone! As I said in an answer to a previous ask, there wasn't a public call-in line to listen to the Show Cause Hearing in Mata v Avianca (the ChatGBT lawyer case) today.

However, while we are waiting for a transcript of the hearing (because there was a court reporter! yay!) and a written decision by the judge, we did get this absolutely anxiety-inducing live tweet of the hearing:

(Caveat: this thread was not an official transcript of the hearing and should not be taken as such. It is possible the actual events and statements made in the hearing differ significantly from this report - i.e., take this with a grain of salt and reserve final judgement for the actual transcript.)

I'll put the full thread with some (light) commentary below the cut.* But the overall impression I am left with is that the judge seems to feel this pair of attorneys are treating their duty of candor toward the tribunal with the same seriousness with which they are treating their duty of competence to their clients. (And in this case, that's a very bad thing.)

*The full thread except for a soon-to-follow part 2 because I ran out of space for images again.

(All of the following screenshots are from the above tweet thread by Inner City Press @ innercitypress on twitter, made on June 8, 2023.)

Normally I would overlook that "you, personally," but in this case, you really get the feeling that the judge is concerned that LoDuca might just start talking about what Schwartz did again.

Establishing LoDuca's base of knowledge - he should know how to look up cases and check if they are real; he should know what a real case looks like.

The March 1 submission was the plaintiff's opposition to the motion to dismiss, where they first cited the fake cases.

How bad this answer is depends, I think, on LoDuca's wording here. Best case scenario, his statement about Schwartz was a specific statement about what inquiry was reasonable for him to do under the circumstances (which - for that first filing - I think is actually a reasonable argument. You don't expect your colleague to just make up cases). Worst case, this reads like him trying to wiggle out of his obligations. I will withhold judgement until I see the official transcript.

Rule 11, by the way, refers to Rule 11 of the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure. Rule 11(b) states:

(If you remember the Order to Show Cause, we are dealing with a Rule 11(b)(2) issue here. Rule 11(c) allows the court to impose sanctions for violations of Rule 11(b))

Oh no, bad answer. (If anyone reading this is good at photoshop, I cannot express how badly I want a version of the "this sign can't stop me because I can't read" meme with the sign being the quote from defendant's reply where they say, "The undersigned has not been able to locate this case by caption or citation, nor any case bearing any resemblance to it.")

Oh that is not a good way of characterizing those orders. (Those were the orders, remember, where the Court said, "By April 18, 2022, Peter LoDuca, counsel of record for plaintiff, shall file an affidavit annexing copies of the following cases cited in his submission to this Court: as set forth herein. Failure to comply will result in dismissal of the action pursuant to Rule 41 (b), Fed. R. Civ. P.")

I would simply perish on the spot.

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention in my original attempted summary of "Varghese" - the first paragraph states that it is a wrongful death suit by the widow of the passenger. Then the second paragraph states that the passenger was denied boarding on a flight due to overbooking and thus missed his connecting flight and therefore incurred additional expenses. The case was such nonsense that I legitimately forgot about that inconsistency by the time I got to the end.

Your honor I plead "2 stupid 2 sanction."

(I believe the "different fonts" is in reference to the April 25 affidavit, in which the case names - and some of the surrounding text - are in a different font from most of the text in the affidavit. It seems like this is because they may have been copied straight from ChatGPT. See e.g., #3 below. It's hard to tell just based on this twitter thread, though.)

A short and simple answer! You did it!

"I have all the answers I need" is not a good sentence in this context.

Very genuinely: shorter is better here. At least I don't think he hurt himself with that statement.

Judge Castel: How do you conduct legal research?

Schwartz: I research cases.

Judge Castel: Do you read them?

Schwartz: Well, I may have once upon a time, but after hearing you ask that question in this context, I have decided to retire from the practice of law forever and also possibly sink into the ground and die. Also, by answering "yes," here, I just realized that I'm either admitting that I read the cases I submitted and therefore must have known they were fake, or else I just possibly committed perjury. Oh shit oh fuck.

Oh god I'm cringing myself into a pretzel just reading this.

Hey, by the way? You can actually use google (esp. google scholar) to do legal research. (It's not a good tool and you will miss things, but it will do in a pinch.) But. Um. If you know that...why didn't you double check your cases at very least on google when you were told they seemed to be made up?

So, once again, I am going to withhold judgement until I see the actual transcript. That said, if Schwartz did say this, I would like to compare it briefly to a part of the chat transcript he provided to the court. Here is the first question asked about the Montreal Convention in the provided transcript:

"analysis"

Oh god. I can't even provide commentary on this one. I hope this is worse than the actual transcript will prove to be. I'm reading through my fingers like I'm watching a horror movie.

"Misperception" (or "misconception") doesn't work once you have evidence that should cause you to doubt - like not being able to find a case that was supposedly published in the Federal fucking Reporter.

This is overshooting "2 stupid 2 sanction" into "too stupid to function."* You either looked for "Varghese" or you didn't. If you looked for "Varghese," it is not credible that you continued to have a good faith assumption that ChatGPT couldn't lie. If you didn't look up "Varghese," you just lied to the Court under oath.

*Just to be clear: for an ordinary person, this would be a very understandable lack of knowledge issue. A lawyer has no excuse not to know this.

Judge Castel: Mr. Schwartz, I think you have the fucking audacity to try to lie to me to my face in my fucking courtroom.

Honestly at this point I'm surprised he could still talk. I think screaming, "I'm melting, I'm melting!" as he vanished into steam, leaving his crumpled suit behind, would be an appropriate response.

NO.

Oh no, oh honey.

Ok. Two options here (again, assuming he actually fucking said "They said they couldn't find them," in response to the Court asking, "When Avianca said you cited non existent cases?"):

Schwartz is once again trying to purposefully downplay what the defendant's reply brief actually said and dodge responsibility.

Schwartz honestly, truly believes that when the defendant filed a reply containing the line, "The undersigned has not been able to locate this case by caption or citation, nor any case bearing any resemblance to it," they were just asking for assistance with their legal research?!??!

I honestly don't know which is worse.

Oh no....

Oh man, I haven't gone over it here yet, but I think that "I looked up the judge" is a panicked attempt at bringing up a talking point the Professional Responsibility Lawyers raised in their memorandum of law. (Again, I'm giving this reading of his response with the caveat that it is based only on this thread, not the official transcript, which might read very differently and contain different/more info.) The Professional Responsibility attorneys noted in a footnote that two of the judges listed in the "opinion," including the "author," were actual 11th circuit judges, and the other is an actual 5th circuit judge. My read of this footnote was as an extra little detail tossed in by the Professional Responsibility attorneys to try to dress up their argument that the "opinions" had various "indicia of authenticity."

But here's the problem. If Schwartz is telling the truth - if he was reading carefully and critically enough that he bothered to look up the judge (why would you do that if you didn't think the case might be fake?!) there is no way he could have missed that the case was gibberish. Again, if this is really what he said at the hearing, he either lied in the hearing, or he must have know the "opinions" were bogus when he gave them to LoDuca to file.

"Did it cross your mind" - if the court actually said this, oh my god.

Hey, that's the point that I made in my original post(s)!

This whole thing about the "+h" to "th" with the notary date is from the recent affidavits filed on 6/6/23, you can read them about them if you want, I'll be honest, I don't really care as much about the notary stuff so I'm going to skip it for the moment.

....and I've run out of space for images again. Part II to follow shortly!

[aakaneeee]

Round 7 was.. definetly intense and I have many thoughts about it, so I did a whole analysis.. yes it's finally here!

Time to start :3 (I will mostly try to make this coherent and chronologically correct, I might fail though! because we know how freaky i can get when it comes to Luka)

without further ado, let's get into it!

tws: drug use, violence, blood, overall quite gore-ish;

I. ROUND 7

Round 7 starts with a low intro, sung first by Till, Luka following. Till has his energy back, or atleast part of it. Luka, as always, has his perfect voice, but he seems to be a little more expressive this time, as if he's enjoying the performance, just like the lyrics suggest. Everything goes seemingly smooth, and they receive holographic instruments that almost seem to parallel eachother: Till, an electric guitar, and Luka, a violin. And yet, as the second pre-chorus emerges, Luka approaches Till, putting his hands around his neck, a cruel reminder of Ivan. He is... dizzy, to say the least, even getting a nosebleed, but he doesn't stop singing until the very end, even though images of the one he's been taunted with appear on the screen behind them. His eyes seem to light up when he sees a familiar figure in the crowd, Mizi, somehow remembering her even with her hair completely different, veiled, and between millions of aliens. He reaches out, and Luka is obviously at least annoyed at this, either mad that his trick didn't work, or that Till destroyed a perfect performance. Even so, it's too late for Till: Right before getting a hold of Mizi's hand, he is shot in the neck, falling down. Mizi is.. devastated. A flashback of them as kids plays, with a xylophone instrumental. Then, the camera cuts back, from a happy, smiling Mizi, to one crying over Till's soon-to-be corpse. In his last moments, she takes his hair out of his face and cups it. He tries to caress her hand, and then his arm falls next to him as the light fades from his eyes, destined to look into the distance forever. The text "LUKA WIN" flashes on the screen, but even the double-winner is too distracted to care, as in a safe distance, yet right in front of him, is an injured Hyuna, crouched forward, without her usual, characteristic confidence. They stare blankly at eachother as the screen shows new text: SPECIAL GUESTS, paired with photos of a grieving Mizi and a shocked, in pain Hyuna. We are shown Luka advancing as the winner, the last one left, supposedly, and everything goes black.

II. LUKA

(I will have a lot to say for the both of them, unsurprisingly, but I feel like Luka is still a little bit in the lead... again. who is surprised)

From the first frames we see him in, his clothes are obviously more revealing that in previous rounds (using plural since we have seen part of his Round 4 outfit in the intro of ROMH), using not only the usual open back, but also a huge v-cut showing his chest, and his hip open, specifically where his branding is. I imagine Heperu would've chosen this to show off that it's his pet. Not only that, but his surgery scars are also shown off. I suppose it might be something to brag about here? Maintaining a pet human is probably already really expensive, so it's a differentiation of class if they also afford to have surgeries? I see it as probable. When he begins singing, we see something new. He's a lot more expressive, and it carries through the whole round. Not only that, but when his first high note reaches, he almost crouches down forward, as if he was struggling with it (even though he had more difficult notes in round 5.) Personally, for me, I don't think he was going to use his 'technique' from the start. Some may argue that it's his usual, but he got the biggest score in Alien Stage history in round 4 (I may be mistaken) against Durian, and Durian had no dead loved one that Luka could've used against... him? (I'm still confused about Durian, Acorn and.. Tortilla.😭) So he's obviously insanely talented and only uses it when he feels a threat. Most of Luka's actions in Round 7 felt risky, unplanned, and decided on the moment, which really is unlike him. This feels, like one of my previous posts say, like he was drugged, just like Till. In his daze, maybe he considered that Till would stop singing, or maybe, not even sing at all, and that he'll have an easy opponent. But no, Till proved strong, and then, it came to the next possible way he could 100% win: disorienting him. A thing others have pointed out.. Luka's fingers are probably very cold, and it mightve reminded Till that Ivan is a corpse now. One of the most cruel frames of an already very cruel series was, atleast for me, shown in this video: Luka holding in his laugh after his 'plan' (since, as i already said, i dont think it was actually planned) works. For me, it's another piece of proof that he wasn't in his right mind, the carefully built facade of his wouldn't have just broken by his own will. But, even though he could swear it worked, Till doesn't stop singing. Sure, he's dizzy, dazed, but he still is singing. Shock only comes again when Till sees Mizi in the crowd, and anger, or atleast annoyance, is easily readable on Luka's face. He even pauses singing, looking at Till reaching out for his God, always unattainable, now in the reach of his fingers, in a position I could describe as hesitant, confused. Even so, he gets a win as Till gets shot in the neck. Unfortunately, he doesn't have time to revel in the victory, as he watches in shock, as 'the love of his life' appears in front of him, yet at a safe distance, injured. They stare at eachother, but it's different, it wasn't a blank gaze like in Round 5, it feels a lot more vulnerable.

I love how we've been shown past Luka's empty shell this round. Seeing him actually expressing himself, seemingly taking immense pleasure, almost in an euphoric, naive way, in the round around him. There is no way he genuinely enjoys it, or would've enjoyed it without.. exterior measures. We've seen him reacting to cameras around him in Sweet Dream. We can only imagine that was his truly 'sober' state. As I said, it's really amazing how we can see a more candid version of him.

III. TILL

From the start, it seems like Till has regained his spirit back. He's definetly more energetic than in Round 6, his hair is slightly messy again. His outfit, just like Luka's, is more revealing, but his branding has always been visible, unlike his opponent's. He is doing surprisingly well, not going down without a fight, maybe not going down at all! (I love being cruel) He's singing his heart out, every lyric he says showing desperation. And even though he was going so well, everything has an end. Because his declining mental state goes even more downhill as Luka acts like the freshly deceased Ivan, who left him with so many questions and dillemas. It feels like everything is crowding up on him, the huge stage feeling like a small box. His nose starts bleeding, and just as he was about to faint... He sees the love of his life, Mizi, in the crowd. She's reaching out to him. She's there to save him. He reaches towards her in happiness... Except he gets shot right before it. Mizi is finally reaching to him, right how he imagined when he felt like dying, after singing in that damned club. But just as you can't touch your own imagination, you can't touch a God.

Mizi is, and always will be unattainable. The moment he tried to touch her, the Universe is against him, once again. When he wanted to approach her, a powerful light engulfed him. When he died, it was back to pitch dark. In the flashback, it's implied that Till tried to escape, or atleast went against the rules, togheter with Mizi. They seem to be very close, as Mizi trusts him enough to hide, and bury her head into him. It feels affectionate, familiar, something Till holds onto, because he probably considers it one of his best memories. But nothing lasts. From a smiling, happy Mizi, it pans to the new her, now crying over Till, who was taking his last breaths. She gently brushes his hair out of his face, her hand holding it. In his last moments, atleast, he got what he wanted: Mizi's gaze on him, only on him, and just as always, he can't say anything to her. He just lightly chuckles, as his eyes lose light, and his arm falls next to him.

IV. IVAN

His intention was to make Till hate him. That's why he kissed him. He wanted to be forgotten. He already thought Till didn't care that much about him, so surely his actions would make him hate him? Wrong. Ivan was never Till's ray of hope. He was aware of it: Till only had eyes for Mizi. And yet, his death wasn't forgettable, like he thought. He used to mock Sua for her plan, saying that she'll only become trauma, and ironically, he did the exact same thing. Till sees Mizi as pure light, a goddess. Yet, he remembers Ivan in a shaky manner, a dark red veil over the flashback of the kiss. Mizi was his hope, and Ivan was his misery. Unfortunately, Ivan didn't realize this, considering himself to not be grief, but rather, nothing for Till. Oh, how wrong he was.

V. HYUNA

I really like the idea that the Patreon gave us. Its good to be confirmed that Hyuna, just like the others, is truly human, and by that I mean, flawed. Maybe I am interpreting it wrong, but from what my brain cooked up, she was.. somewhat willing to sacrifice a life (either Till or Luka) for the sake of humanity. (again, I might be wrong) We see another side to her in Round 7. She grabs Mizi and looks at her in a pleading way. She knows she's asking of her to see another of her friends die. Even so, she thinks it's better. I'm really curious about what she was doing on stage. Did she go after Mizi, because she saw she might've gotten caught again? Maybe.. she thought that Mizi was actually going to get Till, and she wanted to save Luka, too? You can never know.

VI. MIZI

First of all, she is still naive, which is so on brand for her. She went into a rescue mission, alone, with no weapons except for a smoke grenade. She still doesn't know what she has to do, and it's obvious. It seems like she took another route from Hyuna, who came up on the stage, while Mizi mixed with the crowd. Even so, I'm grateful that in his last moments, Mizi let Till rest. It was such an honest scene and I adored it. What I didn't adore was the parallels between her leaning over Tills body in Round 7, and her leaning over Sua's body in Round 1.

VII. PARALLELS

1. Till reaching towards Mizi, both in his hallucinations, and right before his death, where she still remains untouchable.

2. "The dark crimson air embraces us" -> "In your place, there's only blood and cold air left" (Black Sorrow) + "Lost in forever's embrace" (CURE)

3. Mizi leaning over Sua's body (Round 1) and Mizi leaning over Till's body (Round 7)

4. "In a blink gone!", sang by Till, in this, the visuals parallel his Birthday reveal art.

5. Luka raising his hands to his face, parallels Ivan tracing his hands up his microphone (they even have the same timing from what I've seen).

6. Mizi looking at Till from her capsule in Round 2, with Mizi looking at Till through the screen during Round 7.

7. Mizi throwing the grenade and Till breaking Freddie in Round 2.

8. Luka's hands on Till's neck are a 'gentler' version of Ivan choking Till, so aliens wouldn't consider it as violence.

9. Luka and Hyuna looking at eachother in Round 5 and Luka and Hyuna looking at eachother at the end of Round 7.

10. The way Luka pulls Till's lip down reminds me of that one freaky Luka image..

VIII. LYRIC ANALYSIS

Blink Gone works for all characters, in my opinion. Every one of them lost something, in just a blink.

"The clock goes tick-tock, tick-tock" I can only imagine this referring to the fact that Till's life is soon to coming to an end.

Till sings the more pessimistic lyrics, while Luka sings the ones about forgetting what's in the past and enjoying the moment. As much as he could be taunting Till, he is, in a way, also reassuring himself. To forget everything: perhaps Hyuna. Hyunwoo's death. And not only these, but the experiments, surgeries, punishments he's been through. On this specific stage, he feels like he's truly alive.

As I've mentioned before: "The dark crimson air embraces us" -> "In your place, there's only blood and cold air left" (Black Sorrow) + "Lost in forever's embrace" (CURE).

IX. DISPELLING SOME THEORIES.

1. Till's microphone was closed.

Personally, when I first saw this... I was a bit.. yeah... I know this sounds rude, but I was a little bit startled when I saw how many people agreed😭 The light on Till's microphone is a heartbeat tracker, proven to be right by the fact it turned green when he saw Mizi. Even if it was closed, a microphone doesn't make you sound better. He wouldn't have been heard, which he was, so obviously, it wasn't closed.

2. The competition was rigged in Luka's favor.

I dont personally agree with this, especially considering the aliens' nature. They don't care about humans. I don't imagine them wanting the same winner twice. Personally, I find it more like them to rig it in Till's favor. Imagine: he won his first two round by external factors, a rookie, yet a musical genius, defeating a past winner. Doesn't that sound more like something they could market? This is my opinion, but I can't think about them rigging it in Luka's favor. (yes I made a whole rubric just for 2 theories that kind of..somewhat. annoy me)

X. MY THEORIES (This is MOSTLY incoherent)

First of all, I am sure that something BIG will happen next. They said Round 6 is only the half of ALIEN STAGE, so, without counting Sweet Dream, there should be 6 more videos. Minus round 7, five. Hyuna vs Mizi and then whoever wins versus Luka are only two, so there's no way that's everything thats going to happen. I find it really interesting that were going to have 5 videos with only 3 (SUPPOSEDLY) alive characters. I'm not sure about the theory of "they are still alive", since Vivimeng aren't really.. known for that. I'm quite 50/50 on it. I can't believe we went from "only Sua will die" to "Everyone will die"😭 Thats what I call development. Anyways, I'm just as excited as ever for what's next!

XI. CONCLUSION + MY OPINION

Honestly, I ADORED Round 7. It was so beautiful and gorgeous and deep and I simply love it. Im going to sound like a gatekeeper, or rude, but I'm quite dissapointed in the people that genuinely are starting to harass Luka fans, to say they hated Round 7, to hate on Vivimeng for the decision they made, saying that they destroyed it and that there's no satisfactory ending to it now.. MAYBE I'm just lucky and my favourite character is Luka, so I haven't felt the grief of losing my favourite yet, but even if I did, I wouldn't start blaming the AMAZING creators that work so hard. If you're curious, yes, as a Luka fan, I've been told off, I've been told I'm a horrible person, and it's only been 2 days, which is insane to me. There is just so much more about him than "ooh he's a manipulator!" again, I'm gonna sound extremely rude... I love that there are a lot of fans that came during Round 6, but I feel like the people 'leaving' the fandom right now are those same fans. maybe that's just me and I'm just angry at what's happening right now😭

I don't want to offend anyone, these are just my opinions, please take everything I said with a grain of salt!

( @cherry-blossom-sword80 here it is!! tagging some other people I'd like to see this :3 @verdantlights @sotogalmo @rockwgooglyeyes )

[honestlydarkprincess]

oh, bi the way

buckley sibling feels || rated: g || wc: 663

Buck knocked on the door, his hands shaking slightly. He blew out a breath and bounced on the balls of his feet while he waited for Maddie to answer the door.

The door opened and Buck felt himself relax as his older sister came into view. “Buck? Hey, I wasn’t expecting you! Come on in.”

Buck followed behind Maddie, closing the door behind him. “I’m sorry to drop in on you without calling, I just— I needed to talk to you.”

“You don’t have to call, Buck,” Maddie said, giving him a soft look. “You know that. Our door is always open to you.”

“Thanks, Mads,” Buck mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous gesture. “Uh, you might want to sit down.”

“Okay, now you’re scaring me,” Maddie said, hesitantly sitting down at the kitchen table. She gestured for Buck to sit next to her but he shook his head and stayed standing. “What’s going on, Buck?”

He swallowed roughly and let out a shaky sigh. “I need to tell you something. I— I, uh, kind of only just realized this? It’s new. Very new and I’m— I don’t— I don’t know how to say it.”

Maddie watched as he paced in front of her. “Hey, Buck, look at me. There’s nothing you can’t tell me—“

“I think I’m bisexual,” Buck blurted out, cutting her off.

It was quiet for a beat and then Maddie gave him a gentle smile, standing up and holding her arms out. “Come here.”

Buck folded himself into her arms, making himself smaller and letting out a shuddering breath.

“Thank you for telling me,” Maddie whispered, stroking her hand up his back. “I know that wasn’t easy and I’m so proud of you, Evan. I really am.”

“Thank you,” Buck mumbled, squeezing her tight. He still felt shaky, adrenaline in his veins. He’d known that Maddie would be nothing but supportive but coming out was still scary as hell and she was one of the most important people in the world to him.

“Let’s sit on the couch,” Maddie said, nudging him towards it. “You’re shaking.”

Maddie led him to the couch and they sat down, Buck leaning his head on her shoulder. Her arm came around him and her fingers settled in his hair, playing with it gently and making him relax even further. They sat like that for a while, with Maddie just calmly carding her fingers through his hair and Buck waiting for his racing heart to settle down.

“Have you told anyone else?” Maddie asked when Buck finally settled.

“No, I wanted you to be the first,” Buck admitted shyly.

Maddie squeezed him closer, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. “I’m honoured.”

“Do I have to tell the others?”

“You don’t have to tell anyone you don’t want to,” Maddie said firmly. “If you want to tell the team, I know they’ll be more than supportive but if you aren’t ready there’s absolutely no rush, Buck. You decide when you’re ready. If at all.”

“Thanks, Mads,” Buck mumbled. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell them— or that I think they’ll be unsupportive— it’s just…it feels like a big thing and I don’t want anything to change. I hate change.”

“I know you do, but just remember you don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for, okay?” She moved so Buck had to look her in the eyes. “This is something that you control. When and if you’re ready, the team will be there to support you. They’re our family. Everything will be okay.” “Will you be there?” Buck asked, looking at her with wide eyes. “When I tell them?”

“If you want me to, I’ll be there in a heartbeat,” Maddie squeezed his hand, giving him a bright smile. “You can count on me.”

“I know,” Buck smiled. He held his hand out for her to lock her pinky with his. “I always can.”

read on ao3

[ghostofskywalker]

Almost Lost You

Anakin Skywalker/Reader

Fictober 2024 Day 27 of 31

Words: 1,211

Summary: Injuries on the battlefield lead to a quiet moment between lovers.

Anakin Skywalker Masterlist

This was how it ended, you supposed, lying on the wet ground and feeling the cold start to seep through your clothes. The blaster wounds in your legs and abdomen had hit the most inconvenient places, because not only were they incredibly painful but they had also immediately removed you from the battle. And with no active combatants around, the blaster you loosely gripped while sprawled on the soil was downright useless. 

You could hear the sound of the battle raging across the woods, but your comm device had been knocked from your grip, now resting too far away for you to grab it. This is what you get for volunteering to act as the perimeter spy, despite the fact that you were not usually a talented sniper. Thankfully all the nearby battle and commando droids had been called to meet the 501st in combat, so there weren’t any more enemies for you to worry about. 

If you could just get to the comm, you could reach out to Rex, tell them the situation and plead for a transport to take you back to the Resolute. The med-droids and clone medics there might be able to take care of you before it was too late, if you could make the call in time. 

If the battalion had to make a hot exit, would they even remember you? 

No, it was no use thinking like that. Determined to at least try to contact your allies, you heaved a sigh as you pushed your arms forward, trying to move closer to the comm. What followed would not be pretty, but it might just mark the difference between life and death, so you were willing to make the sacrifice. 

Dragging your body forward like a baby rancor, you used every ounce of available strength. The muddy ground of this planet made things a little more difficult, but you persisted, a determined look on your face as more mud caked the cloth of your Republic-issued uniform. 

Would the dirt stop the bleeding, or would it just make things worse?

You caught one of your wounds on a particularly sharp rock, and a whispered swear left your mouth as tears welled in your eyes. Blinking them back, there was nothing you could do but move forward with slightly more caution. 

You really needed to put in some kind of official recommendation that all personnel carry some kind of emergency medkit on their person, because it sure would have been useful right now.

When you finally reached the device, you knew that if you couldn’t reach anyone, that you would have to remain here. With everything you had, you pushed the button and tried to reach out. 

Maker, your wounds hurt. 

“-ex!” your voice cracked as you spoke for the first time in a while. “Come in, Captain!” 

Thankfully it connected, because you could hear the telltale sounds of blaster shots and what you believed to be lightsaber movement in the background. “Yes? What is it?” 

His voice was cutting in and out, and you hoped that he was able to hear your full message. “In the forest to the east,” you said, gasping as the pain suddenly flared up. “I got hit, can’t move.” 

Thankfully, it seemed that the captain understood what you were trying to say, even though his voice completely cut out halfway through. “Send your coordinates! No, we’ll track-” 

When you tried to hit the button to comm him again, nothing went through. Resting back with your head against the cold, wet ground and fighting to keep your eyes open, you knew there was nothing left to do at this point but hope. 

As the world began to leave your focus and your eyes began to close, you could have sworn you heard the sound of a lightsaber moving through the air, and someone’s voice as warm hands rested on your face. 

***

When you first opened your eyes, the immediate brightness had you momentarily wondering if you truly were dead. Your mind felt fuzzy and unfocused, and it seemed as though your surroundings were swaying back and forth for a good couple moments. 

However, as the medbay of the Resolute came into focus, you were grateful you weren’t actually dead, because that would have been a real inconvenience. 

Still sluggish and tired, you could feel pressure at the sites of the blaster burns, and the injury on your abdomen brought a dull stinging pain to the forefront of your mind, likely the results of whatever anti-septic they had used  to clean your wounds. 

Picking your head up, you could see Anakin asleep, sitting on one of the (very uncomfortable) chairs they kept here, his head slumped over and resting on the side of your bed as he snored. His eyes flew open the moment you shifted, and he didn’t even check to see if anyone was around before he had thrown his arms around you. 

“Anakin!” you hissed as his lips made contact with your forehead. “What if someone’s looking?” Despite the fact that he’s the one at risk if your romance was discovered, he never seemed to be the one worried about getting caught. 

“I don’t care if some droids see,” he said, reaching down to take your hand in his. “I thought I lost you.” 

“I also thought I was a goner,” you admitted. 

Anakin’s arms pulled you into another hug, and you selfishly initiated a quick kiss with your lover. Despite the battle that had just been fought, the medbay was surprisingly empty, void of even the clone medics you had come to be friends with in your time on the flagship. 

“You’re so strong,” he whispered, pressing kisses in quick succession to your forehead. “But I never want you to leave my sight again.” 

You laughed, even though it came out more like a croak the first time around. “I think we’d have a harder time hiding things if that happened.” 

“I don’t care,” he said, and the smile that crossed his face clued you in to the fact that he was joking. “Half my men already know about us.” 

“What?” Your eyes were wide as you pulled slightly away from him. 

“Relax, they’re not going to say anything,” he reassured you. “If we ever wanted to get away for a couple rotations, I think we’d have an entire team of operatives covering for us.” 

You breathed a sigh of relief as you smiled. You had been working with the 501st for quite some time now, and you’d be lying if you said they hadn’t wormed their way into your heart. “I could do with a vacation.”

Anakin laughed as he leaned down and gently pressed his lips to yours. “Once you get better, then we’ll do some planning.” 

Your eyes started to droop as you spoke, likely from whatever kind of painkiller the droids had administered to you when you were out. “What about a beach? Or-” you dozed off in the middle of the sentence. 

When the medbay was filled with nothing but the sound of your soft snores, Anakin just smiled as he kissed your forehead one last time. He needed to make some plans, and none of them had to do with battles or strategies.

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

[farfaras]

Part 1.

Maybe if Steve acts casual Robin won’t even notice. She barely pays attention to him when she’s too busy rambling about her love life. Or lack there of. If Steve’s lucky, today is gonna be one of those days.

But Steve’s good luck probably ended the first time he took a look at a demogorgon.

“What is that?” Robin giggled. If she finds this amusing wait until she hears what actually happened.

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb. That only worked when I thought you were an actual idiot.” She rolled her eyes.

“Yeah well, I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.” Steve put on his family video vest and clocked in.

“What? I notice things!” Robin exclaimed when Steve made his way to the counter.

“Yeah, when you’re not too busy daydreaming about Vickie.”

“You’re changing the subject!”

“Objection!”

“Stop it!”

Steve sighed. How could you explain your friend sucked your neck to make your another friend jealous when you don’t even like said friend? Tricky.

Ugh. Robin was gonna make fun of him.

“You wouldn’t believe me.” Steve tried. It was a last resort to save himself from the embarrassment.

“Yeah, because I’ve never experienced anything out of the ordinary.” She raised an eyebrow. Steve knew she wouldn’t let it go. “When did you even go on a date, dingus? I don’t remember you telling me about it.”

“I didn’t go on a date.”

“Well then who did that?” She narrowed her eyes. “Ew! Are you in a friends with benefits situation?” She look scandalized and curious at the same time. “Because honestly Steve, I don’t think that’s your thing. I mean even if you try, it wouldn’t work out. You’re like an actual romantic. Wanting a serious relationship, yearning connection and all that shit. It would be cute if you weren’t kinda desperate sometimes.” Okay he had to cut her off if he wanted to keep his ego unbruised.

“Jesus! Okay! You don’t have to say it like I’m some loser who can’t get a girlfriend!” If he needed humbling he knew who to call now though.

“But you kind of are.”

“Do you want to know or not?” Even if he was embarrassed about the whole thing, he couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t hoping Robin would give him some insight. Once she stopped making fun of him. “It was Eddie.”

Her eyes widened in surprise and… excitement? “Holy shit! It finally happened?” What is she talking about now? “I thought I would actually have to wait another year at least for you guys to figure it out.” There’s nothing that makes Steve feel more inadequate than when he doesn’t get what people are talking about. “I mean anyone who’s got eyes could see how much you two liked each other and it’s cute but I was getting tired of the pining..” she trailed off when she saw how silent Steve was. “Why aren’t you as excited as me?”

Pining? Like each other? Did Robin think..? Did Eddie?

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He questioned. His mind was going through every interaction him and Eddie once had. Trying to analyze his own behavior to come up with an explanation as to why someone would think he likes Eddie.

“Oh god. I thought. Did you guys not like… get together?” She was hesitant. It felt like she was trying not to scare a wild animal.

“No.”

“I gotta stop running my mouth like that. I’m sorry.” She looked mortified and it would be funny if this was another situation. “But what? Why would he do that? I’m so lost here, Steve.”

Steve went through backstory first, then he started retelling the events of the other day. Including how he actually enjoyed himself a little. He might as well be a hundred percent transparent, she was his best friend after all.

“Robin, say something.” His best friend being silent was not something he was used to.

“I’m so confused.” She said.

“Me too.” His confusion was starting to fade. The answer right in front of his face.

“So you’re… not together? Even after that?”

“I don’t even like him like that!”

“But you said you liked it!”

“Who wouldn’t!”

“I wouldn’t! Steve, a boy giving me hickeys is one of my worst nightmares.” He knew that. He knew it meant something that he liked it. The question is if he’s ready to face what it means.

“I- I know, okay?”

“Steve, say the word and we’ll stop talking about this.” He loves his best friend. He doesn’t know what he’d do without her.

“No. I think I’m ready.” Steve muttered. Robin smiled gently at him and that was all the encouragement he needed to feel safe enough to say it out loud.

“I like him.”

They hugged.

-

“It kinda sucks that he doesn’t like me back though.”

Robin thunked her head on the counter.

[ash5monster01]

i saw you wrote for randall pink floyd and i RAN to your inbox

could you please write a best friends to lovers confession with our dear boy randall? and i’m not sure if you do smut or anything like that but if it could be just slightly smutty that would be wonderful!!

Always You

Pairing: Randall ‘Pink’ Floyd x FemReader

Warnings: 18+, language, drug/alcohol use, jealousy, emotional struggle, foreplay, implied smut, fluff, no use of y/n

Summary: You’re in love with your best friend and on accident he finds out.

word count: 2.9k

Masterlist

You wait in the dark, eyes cast out the window, watching for your best friend who would appear any second. You both had done this every Friday night for the entire year, it was a system by now. Just in time you see headlights flash out, the sound of a rumbling engine cutting off, as his El Camino rolls to a stop in front of your house. You wait a beat to ensure your parents didn’t hear before you scurry out the front door and across the dark lawn to your best friend.

“That’s never gets old” he says as you jump inside. He’s shaking his head in amusement and you just roll your eyes at him as he starts up the engine and drives away before anyone can spot you.

“It’s getting pretty old for me, I’m lucky I haven’t been caught yet” you tell him as you pull some lip gloss from your bag and drop it to the ground. Pink’s eyes glance over at you as you pull the mirror down and apply the product. He tries to ignore the way his throat dries as he watches your plump lips pucker at your reflection.

“You won’t get caught, our system works pretty well” he tells you, hands flexing over the steering wheel as he drives to the Emporium since Pickford just had to get caught and cancel his party.

“C’mon Rand, I’m so over sneaking out. I wish we didn’t get too big for sleepovers” you pout, arms crossing over your chest, and lifting your breasts in the process. The series of actions and words has Pink shifting in his seat, trying to hide the way his pants have tightened. If only you realized what you had just suggested.

“Sorry sweetheart, but if you still aren’t gonna admit to your parents that you party then you’re stuck with our plan” he tells you and you finally eye him up and down, the nice purple shirt on his form and the tight cream bell bottoms.

“Who you all dolled up for? Simone?” you ask as you wiggle your eyebrows, your teasing and suggestive tone making him roll his eyes at you. You ignore the jealousy that burns in your stomach, the desire to be the one he actually dresses up for. Little did you know, it was you.

“No not Simone, we’re just talking” he says and it sounds unsure, like that might even be the wrong choice of words for the little blonde girl he had somehow obtained. In fact he had quite forgotten about her until now, not even remembering he said they’d meet up at some point tonight.

“Either way you look handsome Pinky, I’d swoon” you tease him, digging in your bag for the joint you had stashed away earlier. Your words are true but he doesn’t know that.

“Please don’t call me Pinky. I prefer Rand or Randall even over that” he begs, you being the only one to still call him by his given name. Comes with the territory of being best friends though. You knew him long before he was ever Pink.

“Oh little Pinky is grumpy” you tease in a sing song baby voice, poking his shoulder and scooting closer along the front seat. He chuckles, knowing you’re only messing.

“You gonna light that joint or what?” he finally asks and you giggle, hands retrieving your lighter before flicking the ignite. Pink watches as you wrap your glossed lips around the end and light it in the dark of the car. The flame illuminates your face bright enough to remind him how gorgeous you truly are.

“Whoo, that’s a strong one” you say, voice thick with the smoke and Pink smiles as you pass it to him and he puts his lips where yours just were. He’s certain this is the closest he’ll ever get to kissing you.

You pass the joint back and forth the whole ride to the Emporium, each pass getting you closer and closer to him on the seat. By the time there’s only a roach to share between you, your thigh is pressed tightly against his own. His whole body buzzes with the sensation of you against him and the weed. He’s actually disappointed to see the Emporium come into view while he pulls into a parking spot.

“You want a beer?” you ask, head turning to face him and the closeness doesn’t go unnoticed by either of you. Pink takes a moment to study the deep color of your eyes before nodding.

“Sure, let me give you some cash” he says, digging in his pocket and you finally spot the remnants of your sparkly lip gloss stuck to the corner of his lip from your shared joint. As he frees some bills you giggle and use your thumb to brush it away, causing him to freeze.

“I guess I should’ve waited to apply my lipgloss after we shared a joint, wouldn’t want our friends thinking we were hiding something” you say, chest tightening and wishing he would admit his feelings for you. Tell you he didn’t care what his friends thought and kiss you for real. You wished you never dared to cross the best friend line.

“Maybe I just decided to start wearing makeup” Pink finally says when he realizes it’s taken him too long to answer. Why could he be confident around every girl but you?

“I’ll go grab some drinks, don’t start a game of pool without me” you tell him and in a flash you’ve slid out the car, waving and smiling at your friends who cheer and greet you. Pink waits till you’re inside the liquor store before taking a few moments to collect himself.

“Hey man” Wooderson is the first to greet him as he steps out the car. Pink smiles, greeting him with a handshake before leaning up against the wall beside him.

“Man that girl of yours has gotten real cute” he grins, eyes still cast in the direction of the liquor store where you had just disappeared into.

“Not my girl” Pink mutters despite everything in him going against it and the older guy snorts, foot wedging up to press against the wall behind him.

“Still cute” he says and Pink chuckles, hoping it’ll mask the jealousy he carries over other men being into you. He knew Wooderson would leave you alone, he wouldn’t dare mess with a girl he knew Pink cared for so much. It still didn’t change the fact it made his chest burn.

As if on cue you exit the liquor store, smile wide on your face, as you carry two cases of his favorite beer. Pink’s stomach flutters at the sight, watching as you cross the parking lot and dump both cases in the truck bed of his car. You’re so gorgeous, and you knew him better than anyone, a girl hand crafted for him. If only he wasn’t so afraid of losing you.

“Thirsty?” you ask, hands freeing two of the beers and holding them up for him to see.

“You got one for me doll?” Wooderson calls out and you laugh, shaking your head at your overly flirty friend.

“Depends on how much Pink likes you?” you call back and Wooderson pouts at Pink almost instantly. Your bestfriend just sighs and gives you a nod which makes you grab a third beer before approaching them both.

“Thanks” Pink says, arm coming to wrap around your shoulders and pull you against him. You don’t fight it, leaning into his embrace as you open your beer and take a swig.

“Can’t believe we’re officially seniors” you say as another load of classmates pull into the parking lot and hop out. Pink smiles, knowing all day he felt like a King about everything but one. You.

“Enjoy it” is all Wooderson says and you both nod, accepting these words and knowing there was only one shot to embrace this moment as it was. That’s why in your head, you’re certain you’ll tell Pink how you feel before the end of summer, hell maybe even tonight.

As always the chaos of the night ensues and without fail you manage to still find a way to party. You’re unsure how much alcohol you’ve consumed, you just know it was a lot. At least enough to give you the small buzz you were currently sporting. It was the very reason Pink had laid down a blanket in the bed of his truck and had laid you in it with the promise of returning. He holds up his end of the bargain when the suspension of the Camino dips down with him lifting his body weight into it.

“Sorry, had to say goodbye to Simone” and maybe it’s the alcohol, you want to blame the alcohol, when your face scrunches up with something he can only read as disgust.

“If you wanted to take her home you should’ve just left me with Cynthia, I can handle myself” you say, voice clipped and eyes cast on the bright stars of the Texas sky above you.

“I’m not leaving you, besides I didn’t want to take her home” Pink assures you, heart racing at the idea of you being jealous. If it wasn’t for the alcohol in your system he’d swear it was.

“Yeah okay” you snort, shaking your head and trying to ignore the cool night air on your skin. The sounds of engines starting and rumbling away surrounding you both.

“What’s your deal? I thought you liked Simone?” Pink finally asked, rolling to his side to face you and you smile despite not being amused.

“I do like Simone I just don’t like her for you” you say, a bit exasperated and a little tired of keeping all these feelings at bay when they’re begging to burst out of you.

“Why? Why not? She’s a good girl, just like the rest” he argues back and the fire ignites inside you, annoyance and anger bubbling over.

“Because Rand, because no one is good enough for you. No one would ever deserve to love you, not even me-” your mouth snaps shut, words moving faster than your mind and it reels as you try to comprehend what you just said to him. What you may of just admitted.

“What?” Pink says, blinking as the words you just said sinks in. You instantly start shaking your head, panic spreading over your entire body, realizing your plan came true without being planned.

“I didn’t mean, I- I’m sorry-” you blubber, words suddenly not coming to you or forming, much different than how they had just spit out of you. Yet it doesn’t matter because Pink’s hand is falling on your cheek, holding your head to face him. His expression is unreadable and the panic makes you want to flee.

“You deserve me, just as much as I deserve you” he says slowly, wanting you to understand what he’s saying. Your eyes are wide and when you can’t get your mouth to open and say anything, he’s leaning forwarding and pressing it against his own.

You gasp lightly but he keeps you close until you realize this is really happening. Slowly you kiss him back, realizing in this very moment you’re actually kissing your best friend. The excitement hits you all at once and you grasp at his shoulders tightly, kissing him feverishly. When Pink notices your eagerness he glides his tongue along the seam of your lips and you let him in without hesitation. The second his tongue curls against your own you find yourself climbing into his lap, searching for a better and more controlled angle to make out with him.

“Careful baby” he warns against your lips as you grind down on him. Yet the confidence from the alcohol and the desire for him is controlling your actions.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” you muse as his lips travel along your jaw and down your neck. He smiles against your skin, grunting when you grind down on him again.

When his lips find that sensitive spot on your neck you trail your hand down his chest, fingers grazing his bare skin in his shirt that had been further and further unbuttoned throughout the entirety of the night. When you reach his abdomen his stomach jumps and finally he pulls away from you.

“Wait, is it true? You really have feelings for me?” he asks, wanting to make sure he hadn’t misinterpreted or worse taken advantage of you in your tipsy state. You smile as you admire the sparkly lip gloss that now covers his own lips shamelessly.

“Yes Pinky, for a long time. I just never had the courage to say anything” you tell him, hands stabilizing yourself on his chest. He grins wide, hands tightening on your hips and the action makes you grind against him again.

“Me too” he admits, a soft blush covering his cheeks and you don’t fight the urge to lean down and kiss each of them. Yet the new angle has you able to feel his length perfectly in those tight pants of his. You use the opportunity to kiss his lips as you grind against him again. His hands tighten somehow even more on your hips and you love the idea of being able to see where his hands had been tomorrow.

“I didn’t know you liked me this much Pinky” you say using the embarrassing nickname he hadn’t felt the need to correct with you above him like this.

“You have no idea” he mutters a little breathless and a little nervous. This is all he ever wanted and now he didn’t possibly want to screw it up.

“How have I never noticed?” you muttered, not looking particularly for an answer, before kissing him deeply again. You shiver when his hands push up your shirt, large palms gliding against your bare back. When he reaches the clasp of your bra you grind against him, indicating he had full permission to take it off. He doesn’t waste a second, the material loosening and slipping down your shoulders.

Realizing you don’t want to get caught without your shirt you slip the straps off your arms and pull it out of under your clothes. Pink watches as you toss it up by his head and he gulps, his hands moving from your back and under the fabric that laid over your chest. Your lips meet his own again when he finally grasps your breasts and you realize fairly quickly you need to get him out of his pants as soon as possible.

Pink lets out a small squeak, your mouth muffling the noise, as your hands reach down and start fumbling with the button of his pants. He grips tighter at your breasts and it makes you whimper against him. You’re both so lost in each other you can’t believe it’s taken you this long to ever admit your feelings for him. As soon as you slide his zipper down you feel his length twitch against your palm and you grin against his lips. Slowly you slide your fingers against him, dipping into the pants you hoped to get off of him.

“Hey we’re going to the 50 yard line to smoke, you guys in?!” Don’s voice bellows out, hands slapping against the bed of the truck. You jump off of Pink quickly, hand sliding out of his pants, as Don rounds the back of the vehicle. A sly grin cracks along his face as he notices the heavy breaths Pink lets out and the open fly of his pants. When he spots you with glazed eyes and swollen lips it only confirms his suspicions.

“Yeah we’ll come” Pink answers, eyes glancing at you and back at his buddy. Don chuckles, a finger pointing between you both.

“Best friends my ass” is all he says before he starts walking back the way he came, probably in search of Shavonne.

“We’ll meet you there” Pink calls out and Don waves a hand, amusement covered his features as he stalks away from you both.

“You think he knows?” you ask in a joking tone and Pink laughs as he falls back against the bed of the truck, eyes cast to the sky.

“Yeah, he knows” Pink confirms before turning his head and looking you in the eye. All he can think about is how beautiful you are, eyes full of adoration knowing he finally has you the way he has always wanted you.

“Guess we better go to the 50 yard line” you say softly, hand coming to brush some of the long hair out of his face and Pink smiles as he turns his head and kisses your palm.

“I guess so, sleepover at mine after?” he asks, a smile he struggles to hold back tugging on his face. You laugh as you remember the conversation from earlier and slowly nod.

“Yeah, I like that plan” you agree and he grins widely before capturing your lips in a kiss then hopping out the back of the truck. He holds a hand out for you to join him and you don’t hesitate in taking it as you both slide into the car.

In this moment, your life was everything you wanted it to be.

[rogueddie]

Steve doesn't really mind the jokes about his intelligence. Not anymore, anyway. He's gotten used to them. Even when they did get to him, he knew that they were just playing. Kid shit.

But he slowly starts to notice... El always watches for his reaction. Almost like she's waiting for something.

So, he starts to watch her too.

He's more subtle about it though. She turns her whole head and body towards him, pointedly staring.

But Steve leans, casual as always, tilting just enough to see her out the corner of his eye. He isn't able to get a great read on her like that, but he sees enough.

He slowly realizes that the insults that he's getting are upsetting her.

When Dustin dismisses his questions because they're stupid, her hand twitches just before she turns to him.

When Mike calls him an idiot, she flinches, almost jerking around to look at him. Her hands stay on the edge of her chair, gripping tight enough to whiten her knuckles.

When Max scoffs at his suggestion, talking louder, as though his ideas are too stupid to consider... Els hands shake. She moves slower whenever it's Max making the cutting remarks, as though they cut deeper.

It's when Hopper joins in, patronising when he ruffles Steve's hair and tells him that 'yeah kid, they know, he's the jock. He's the sports guy, not the brains'.

The noise El makes is too quiet for Steve to really hear. All he knows is that she sounds... wounded. Upset.

"Alright," Steve finally says. He slams his glass down on the table. "That's enough. You've had your fun. The dumb jokes stop here."

"Don't be such a baby," Mike scoffs. "They're just jokes."

"And they're not funny anymore, so cut it out."

"Steve, c'mon-" Dustin starts.

"No. Nope. Nuh-uh. I'm putting my foot down."

"It's not our fault you ask dumb questions!" Mike says.

"Hey, it might be," Max says, smirking slightly. "He's taken a lot of hits to the head for us."

El jumps to her feet, suddenly enough that it startles everyone into silence. She opens her mouth a few times, visibly struggling to speak.

She turns to Steve gesturing for him to follow her.

When the others get up at the same time, trying to follow as well, she finally finds her words.

"No!" She snaps. "You stay here. I am going to talk to Steve."

"What's wrong?" Mike asks, stepping closer, despite her glare. "El?"

"You are wrong."

She grabs Steve's wrist, leading him into her room. She sits on the bed, smiling a little when he sits next to her.

"You need me to be quiet for a minute?" He asks, voice hushed.

"Yes."

Steve nods, giving her a reassuring smile. He looks around her room while he waits for her to gather her thoughts, determined to wait as long as she needs and-

"Holy shit, is that a diorama of the solar system?!" He jumps up, excited, hunching over so he can look at it closer. "What the- El, this is amazing! Did you make this?"

"Oh, yeah. It is ok." Her smile is a little timid, hands shifting into her lap so she can pick at her nails.

Steve doesn't notice, looking back to the diorama. "This is amazing - I know, I already said that, but... Jesus, El."

"Thank you, Steve." Her voice is stiff, stilted- sad.

Right, Steve remembers, cringing at himself.

"Sorry, uh... I'll... I'll shut up now."

"No. It's nice. Will helped me a lot but he won't to let me tell anyone."

"I won't tell," he crosses his heart. "You doing ok?"

"No."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"They are mean to you."

"They are."

El narrows her eyes at him, frustrated. "They should not be mean to you."

"You're right."

She looks even more frustrated, but Steve thinks that this is his best little technique of getting people to talk. Especially about emotions. It works on Eddie like a charm.

"I do not like when they are mean to you."

"Why?"

"Because it is not nice!"

"You're right, it isn't."

"They are supposed to be your friends!" El jumps to her feet, voice raised so much that the others can undoubtedly hear her. "They are supposed to be my friends! I do not understand either! If you are an idiot, so am I!"

"So, you're upset because they think you're stupid?"

"No! I know they do not think I am stupid! They are being mean! They are being bullies!"

Steve nods, pausing for a long moment, waiting for her to calm down a little.

"You remember what Eddie told you about bullies?"

"They are sad with themselves so they have to make others miserable too so they can feel better." She glances at the door. "He also called them assholes."

"Do you think that's what they're doing?"

She considers that for a second, before shaking her head. "No. They... do not understand."

"They're not going to understand if we don't talk to them." He raises an eyebrow when she frowns. "You could stay here, let me do the talking?"

"No. I will talk to them. You are too nice."

"Alright," Steve snorts, gesturing to the door. "Let's give 'em he'll."

part two