#it would be nice to get out of the apartment for a bit

[envy-of-the-apple]

Third Wheel

Dark!SatoSugu x reader

(Warnings: Yandere, dark content, dark, misogynistic language, delusional behavior, kidnapping, blood, violence, +ShokoHime x reader, choking (not in the sexy way tho), threesomes, oral!F!recieving)

Synopsis: Regardless of what Satoru and Suguru tell you, you've always felt left out in this relationship. But when you leave, you quickly find out there's no line your ex-lovers won't cross to get you back

Word Count: 7.3k

When you come home that night, they're already cuddled together, watching TV. 

It's cute. Your boyfriends were always so loose with their affection. When Suguru was cooking, Satoru would lean on his back, more than happy to talk his ear off. Suguru would hold Satoru's waist, steadying him, being his anchor. At night, you'd catch them reaching for each other, trying to hold hands even in their sleep. 

It's clear to even the blind: they are soulmates. 

And you were just extra baggage. 

You don't know how you caught their eyes, but this past year was fun. They've been sweet, both of them have. Inviting you into their lives, into their home, into their bed. Everything moved so fast, but you didn't mind. You were young and a bit spontaneous. Two beautiful men showing a glimpse of interest in you wasn't something you could pass up. This was nice, while it lasted. 

But unlike them, you aren't forever. Their bond would never come close to anything they could have with you. 

It took a while for you to accept that, but eventually, you did. 

"Hey, babe," Satoru calls. "Rough day?" He lazily waves you over. Suguru grunts, before shifting over to make space. 

Despite it all, you're a coward. You don't announce it; you just stare at them. Fondly. Yes, this was nice. You don't think you could handle telling them, though; that would be too much. Seeing how little they cared would break you. 

"Yeah." You give. "Rough day." 

You weave through the house. It's theirs. Not yours. That they've made clear. You're an afterthought. It's the little things. Their toothbrushes are together, yours on the other side of the sink. Their shoes were neatly stacked side by side, and yours were always tucked away in a corner. Left out. Forgotten. Why wouldn't it be like that? They've been together for years. You were still an outsider. 

You only have a little to grab. You just grab your extra clothes, the hair clips you have a terrible habit of leaving around. Just a few items. And then the bedroom looks like you'd never been there at all. 

When you come back out, they don't notice your suitcase. Satoru laughs loudly at something happening on screen. Suguru chides him sternly. Good. It's better this way, you think as you take your suitcase to your car. You don't need any additional heartbreak. 

You make a few more rounds, collecting everything you need. Suguru only catches you when you are about to leave their house forever. 

"Angel?" He calls. "Where are you going?" 

He's looking at you, head tilted in mild curiosity. You manage to smile, looking down at your car keys. 

"Out for a drive." You shrug. "I'll be back." 

Suguru takes it at face value. He lets you go with a small 'have fun'. The walk to the car is heavy. Metal dumbbells on your shoulders. 

When you get in the seat, you finally allow yourself to sob. 

~

I'm sorry, I just can't do this anymore

That's how you ended the wall of text before blocking them. It was the coward's way out. 

"No." Utahime's quick to tell you. "It's the only way. Those bastards would've never let you go otherwise." 

You shouldn't be so quick to listen to her, considering she hates them both. Still, she was more than happy to offer you her home while you picked yourself back up, and started looking for an apartment. You'll humor her for the time being. 

"She's right," Shoko pipes up. Her dark circles are even more prominent tonight. You guiltily think it has more to do with you than with her patients, but she and Utahime have insisted that you stay with them. 

"It was for my sake, more than theirs." You say honestly, tucking yourself into the couch. "They...don't care about me. At least, not like they do each other." 

Utahime rolls her eyes. "You are blind." She says. "Those two were obsessed with you. I'm just glad you got out while you could." 

You laugh, but it beats crying all over again. Utahime doesn't find what she said as funny. She chides you again, something about being oblivious before she settles down to watch the movie she put on. Shoko falls asleep right at the intermission. Her head falls against your shoulder. Utahime leans against you too. And it's nice to have friends to fill the void they left. 

~

Satoru appears first. 

You woke up later than you would have liked. Your eyes are itchy and red from crying all night. Utahime was more than happy to give you her guestroom, but you know you can't take advantage of her kindness for too long. Tomorrow, you'll start apartment hunting. 

Today, you'd sit on the couch and eat ice cream. 

When you go downstairs, you hear a hushed whisper. Utahime's by the door, using her body to keep someone out. She looks angry. 

"-No one's here but me. Now get the fuck off my property." She seethes. 

You recognize his voice. You aren't ready. "Have you heard anything? Anything at all?" 

"No." Utahime gripes. "So go, Gojo-" 

He catches your eyes. Your heart gets stuck in your throat. 

He's taller than her. It takes little to no effort to barrel through her body, easily shoving her aside to get to you. You flinch, his touch burns when he grabs you, pulling you into his arms. 

"Oh, baby." He sighs into your hair. "There you are. Missed you." 

It's too soon. You aren't ready. You can still feel the emotions bubble up from that night, when you collapsed in Utahime's arms, sobbing your heart out. This wasn't fair. They never made it fair. 

You cast a glance at Utahime. She was scowling, close to boiling right over the edge. It gives you enough strength to try to push Gojo off, but he only lets go, when he wants to. 

"Okay." He smiles, reaching down to grab your hand. "C'mon. Let's go home. You had us both so worried for a sec, but if we explain everything to Suguru it'll be okay." 

You find your voice then. As well as your strength. His grip on your hand isn't all that tight. It slips away when you gently shake him off. Satoru stops, confused. 

"Satoru..." You start. "Didn't you get my text?" 

He rolls his shoulders, agitated. "Yeah, but-but it doesn't matter." 

There it was. His lovable personality. Casual careless, nonchalance. For once, you aren't annoyed by it. Maybe your grief made you numb to it. 

"I did mean it," you say as plainly as you can, "every word." 

He freezes. You smile at Utahime. 

"Could you give us some time?" You ask. 

She frowns, but she's never been able to say no to you. 

"Ten minutes." She finally says, before she's marching back to the kitchen. You still hear her muttering while leading Satoru back to your room. 

"I'm sorry." He says when the door shuts behind him. 

"For what?" 

He runs a hand through his hair, taking off those glasses he loves so much. You can't look him in the eyes for too long. It brings up too many memories. 

"I fucked up, right?" He says, he sounds desperate. You've never heard him sound like this before. "I'm sorry. I dunno what I did, but I'm sorry." 

You shrug, picking at the lint of your sleeves. "You didn't do anything. I just...it felt like a good point to just-" 

"-Leave us?" He cuts in. "Come home, baby. I'm so sorry, just come home and we'll figure this out." You look away because you can feel the tears burn up. 

"You didn't do anything." You insist, but your voice is weaker. 

"Was it Suguru? Did he do some bullshit?" Satoru interrogates. "What'd he do? I'll kick his ass, I promise." You hide your smile underneath your sleeves. 

"He didn't do anything either," you assure, "neither of you did." 

He's getting more and more desperate. "Then why did you leave us? What's wrong with us? Why can't we go home and talk this out? Please come back, baby; home doesn't feel like home without you." 

Isn't this what you wanted? A confession. Evidence that they wanted you just as much as they wanted each other. Satoru certainly did. Suguru did, too, considering how hurt Satoru implied him to be. A week ago, you might have been over the moon, too wallowed in self-pity to do anything but agree, run back into their arms, and willingly sink back into 2nd place all over again. 

But the thought of going back to their home makes you feel sick. 

"I can't." You decide. "I just can't. It's over, Satoru." 

I'm sorry. You keep that last line to yourself because you're too scared to crack in front of him. Shatter. Splinter. 

Satoru doesn't share the same sentiment. You hear movement, and when you look up, he's crying. 

A part of you wants to hug him, but you hold yourself back because he isn't yours anymore, and maybe he never was. Still, it hurts seeing him like this. The piece of you that still wanted him is ready to forgive and forget. Your vindictiveness keeps it at bay. 

"That's not fucking fair." He's saying through his tears, even when he's crying, he's beautiful, "You-you can't just ditch us like this. You don't get it; we can't live without you. It's killing us; you're killing us, baby." He staggers forward, in a way that makes you afraid he might fall. In the end, he just collapses on the bed. Eventually, you take a seat next to him. 

He's looking around, you catch him eyeing the pile of clothes in the laundry basket. The hair ties on top of the drawer. The plushies on the bed. You think it might finally be starting to sink that that you're truly gone. 

"Suguru can't sleep these days, y'know that?" He starts, a sardonic laugh in his throat. "He pretends to, but he can't. He stays up all night just wishing you'd come home. The guy is miserable without you, and you can't even gimme a fucking answer." 

His voice cuts you just the way it's supposed to. You wince, feeling his words slice into his skin, finding their way into your heart. You look at his shoes for a moment. He didn't bother to remove them. Maybe that's another reason why Utahime was so pissed. 

"I was starting to feel like an afterthought with you two." You speak. "I mean, it makes sense, you two were together, first. I thought the barrier would just take time to go away....but then it didn't." 

How many times has Suguru taken Satoru's hand over yours? How many times has Satoru forgotten your drink but not Suguru's? How many inside jokes you didn't understand? You always felt petty for being jealous over the tiniest things, but those tiny things kept getting bigger and bigger until it felt like they'd been purposely building that barrier themselves.

You were sick of feeling like the third wheel in your relationship. 

"Baby..." Satoru's voice is tinged in guilt and you can't look at him because you can feel the tears start to well up. "I-I didn't realize." He grabs your hand. 

"Come home." He pleads. "We'll fix it, I promise. We'll be better. We'll do better." 

You shake your head, slipping away from his grip. 

"It's too late." Your voice is shaky. Please let him not notice. Please, please, please for once can his oblivious about everything but his one and only work in your favor? "You can't fix anything, Satoru. Not now." 

"You haven't even given us a chance to-" 

"You should go." You stand up. Satoru follows you out the door. Utahime's already outside. She catches your eyes and nods. 

"Gojo." She speaks, tone clipped. "Get the fuck out of my house." 

He stills, frozen like the prettiest painting in the world. His eyes turn to ice as he stares at her. Utahime doesn't budge. If anything, she advances, pulling you close, acting like a human barrier between you and your ex-boyfriend. You take it immediately, nestling into her side, taking refuge from his icy stare. 

There's silence. You only relax when you hear his footsteps fade and the door slams ricochets into the apartment. And that's when you break down into Utahime's arms completely, letting her coo you into comfort. 

"Maybe I am being overdramatic," you say when Shoko comes back later that day. Utahime was enraged since Satoru left, pacing around the apartment. It's only after both you and Shoko coaxed her back into the couch that she calms down enough to take a seat next to you. 

"Maybe this whole thing is ridiculous. I-I should just go back and-"

"No." Shoko is immediately saying voice firm. "Absolutely Not." 

You can smell the hint of smoke when she came back from the hospital. You try not to assume it's because of you. 

"No way in hell are we letting you go back there after what he did." Utahime gripes. 

"He didn't do anything." You argue. "I swear, I-I was just...being pathetic." 

Warm hands lift your head up. You struggle, still shuddering from your sobs as Utahime forces you to look at her. 

Her eyes are brown. Not as glittery as Satoru's, who's eyes shine like the burning sun itself. Not like Suguru, with his celestial purple. No, hers are just brown. 

You didn't realize how beautiful brown eyes could be. Not just the color of home; the color of chocolate; the color of brownies. The way the light cast down at them made them deep and dark, like a night sky. If you looked closer, you could see tiny stars swimming around. 

"Listen. Are you listening?" When you nod, her voice softens. She tucks your hair behind your ear. 

"You deserve better." She insists. "You deserve better than them. So so much better. I know you can't see it right now, but there is better out there waiting for you." Her voice loses all momentum all at once. "Just...trust me, okay?" 

Her desperation to be heard makes you smile a bit. You nod. Her frown loosens, just the tiniest bit. She relaxes. 

"Thanks," you say after a beat. "I...I needed that. I'm glad I have goods friends." 

Utahime's hands drop from your face. She collapses into the couch cushions with a groan. Shoko laughs. 

"Told you." Shoko says, mirth and alcohol on her tongue. 

Utahime flips her off, and Shoko takes her place. She settles into your side. 

"They were assholes." She tells you. "Forget about them. And she's right, you deserve better." 

You were glad they were there for you, even when you weren't there for yourself. It felt nice that they cared. Vouched, Advocated for your comfort. They made better boyfriends than your old boyfriends ever did. Their support helped heal the Satoru and Suguru-sized holes left in your heart. Every day became a bit better. 

When Suguru eventually turned up, you were a bit more prepared. 

He's a bit nicer than Satoru was. He actually knocks, instead of relentlessly pounding on the door. He doesn't barrel through Shoko when he spots you cowering behind her. His face betrays nothing. He's still. A polite smile is stretched on his lips. Shoko isn't happy about letting him into her home, but when she glances at you, you nod. You needed to do this. You needed closure. 

And so did Suguru. 

You don't speak to him until you're shut in your room. Geto cuts the silence first. 

"How have you been?" He asks nicely. 

"Good." You respond. "You?" 

"Good." 

Conversation stilts. You don't know what to say. Luckily, your ex is never the man who stays silent for long. 

"How's living with Shoko and Utahime been?" He asks, "I'm surprised you've put up with them for this long. They were pretty scary in high school." 

"I bet you two were scarier." You counter. 

He smiles. It's soft, looks good on him. You find yourself smiling back. When you take a seat on the the of the bed, he doesn't follow. You don't know whether to feel glad or not. 

"Yeah, I'm not the proudest of those times." He admits with a sheepish laugh. 

It dies down, and you know the artificial barrier between you two has broken. You shift, waiting for the inevitable. 

"Satoru told me what happened." He sighs. "I'm sorry, Angel. We-I didn't know how you felt. Everything was so perfect, I just thought you felt the same." 

"It's fine." You assure, and this time, your throat doesn't clog up, and your eyes don't feel itchy. "Really. It's-it's fine." 

"It's not." Suguru shakes his head. "You'd be in bed with us if it were." 

That comment pricks something deep within your skin. You swallow, turning away from his piercing purple eyes. They were much like Satoru's. Breathtaking, you could stare at them for hours. You used to. 

But now, you don't have that desire anymore. 

And maybe now that you aren't so attached, maybe you could try being a little more honest. 

"I was jealous." You finally admit. "I couldn't help it. I-I always felt like I was fighting within my relationship. You two were so much closer to each other than I was. Than I ever could be, honestly." 

Suguru frowns, troubled. 

"That's not true." He insists, soft, but something's burning underneath his tone. "Satoru and I have history, but that doesn't mean-" 

"I was runner-up." You cut him off. "For both of you. Looking back, I'm not really upset. It was always impossible for anything to come between the two of you. This-" You gesture between you and him "-was always inevitable." 

"It's my fault." You smile at him, hoping it comes across as sincere as you feel. "I couldn't stand being second place." 

He moves then, kneeling in front of you. Eyes the widest you've ever seen them. He catches your hands in his. You let him. A parting gift. 

"Angel." He starts. "We never once thought of you as that." 

You shrug. "It doesn't matter." You reply. "It's how I always felt. You can't really change the way I feel about things, Suguru." 

You think he's realizing that he's beginning to lose you. His grip gets tighter as if he can physically keep you with him at the very least. He shifts until he's right at your knees, looking up at you desperately. 

"Come back." He insists, abandoning his persuasions. "Just...come back. At least for a little while? We can try again, can't we? Just give us a second chance?" 

It's strange, they don't look too similar, but you can see the similarities. Wow, they're just perfect for each other, aren't they? Yin and Yang. Two halves; one whole. 

You were always a leftover. You just had to learn that the hard way, through days of heartbreak, crying, and sobbing your heart out. It took you awhile to understand that the affection they had for each other is different from the affection they had for you. 

You shake your head. His hands nearly crush yours. 

"I love you." 

It takes you a while to figure out what he said. When it does sink in, your world tilts. Your heart stops at his abrupt declaration and you must stare at him because why? At first, you think he's just desperate: lovebombing. And then you look into his eyes, his sincerity. No, he means it. It makes you feel worse. 

"Satoru does, too, but you know him-he'd rather die than admit something like that." Suguru gives a bitter laugh, one you find familiar even after all this time. "I've always wanted to tell you but thought it was too soon. I thought we had all the time in the world." His voice tapers so he doesn't have to say the obvious but clearly you three didn't. 

You want to reach over, tuck a stray lock behind his ear but you stop yourself because he isn't yours anymore. You gave it all away when you ran. Instead, you curl your hands around his in silent understanding. 

You don't know how you didn't realize it before, but Suguru is less put together than usual. His hair is typically well-groomed and shiny, but now you see split ends. His eyes are clear and bright, but today...they aren't. A dull purple. Hazy violet. 

He's miserable. 

You did this. This was all you. 

"Satoru misses you," he says, "always had. Barely smiles anymore. I don't think I can blame him." 

They loved you. They love you. This was all what you wanted. Just a bit of recognition. There's a tiny part of you that's still itching to jump back in Suguru's arms, kiss him until you're out of breath 'just kidding! it was a prank! let's go home!' and then you two would leave hand-in-hand back to Satoru. 

Going back to them would make them happy, but not you.

But Shoko was right. You deserved better. 

 "It'll get better." You assure. "You'll heal." 

Day by day, the cracks in your heart start to seal. Bit by bit. It may never heal over completely, but you know you'll be okay one day. And they'll be alright too. Who knows, maybe in a couple years, you'll all laugh at this. 

Suguru shakes his head and stands up. His eyes are just the bit glassy, but he's blinking them away before anything gives. It's just like him, honestly, so you're not too upset. 

"You don't get it." He's smiling, not quite in humor. "I don't think you'll ever do but..." He trails off, mid-thought. 

"But what?" You press. 

Then he sighs and closes his eyes. When he looks at you again, his signature pleasantly cold smile is on his face. 

"I did all I could, I think." He turns around, abrupt. "I'll see myself out." 

You're caught off-guard by his sudden departure, but by the time you're following him, Shoko's already leading him out the front door, locking it with exasperation. 

"Is that it?" She asks. "They won't be barging in anytime soon, right?" 

You stare out the window, watching as Suguru gets in his car. Something bubbled in your stomach. 

~

It was one of those nights. Shoko had come back early. Utahime was back from the school. You had planned a cute little evening for the girls and a relaxing night in. You had everything: wine, freshly-prepared dinner, a cheesy horror movie, and an announcement you're sure they were more than happy to hear.

You had just settled down the blanket when you hear Shoko come through the door. You take off her coat before she can even touch it, excitedly flitting around her. 

"What's gotten you in such a good mood?" Shoko asks, her dark circles even more profound than before. You don't have to feel guilty about those for long. 

"You'll see!" You chirp back. 

Utahime strolls out of the bathroom, fresh from the shower. Her hair is still wet. You'll ask if you can blow dry it later. 

"That's what you've been saying for nearly an hour now." Utahime groans. "Just tell us already. Or at least, me."

"Patience." You chastise. "But, it's a good surprise, I promise." 

She's not satisfied, but she sits down anyway. They eat dinner, complimenting your skills all the while. You preen at their praise. It's a stark contrast between Suguru and Satoru, how cold they'd often been whenever you did something nice for them: tilted smiles, less-than-receptive words of 'oh baby you didn't have to'. 

As you lived with both couples, you can see the similarities. Utahime's temper is close to Satoru's, but that's where the similarities stop. She's more serious and less likely to blow off your feelings with a playful huff. Shoko and Suguru share the same laid-back personality, but Shoko is always there to listen to you instead of cutting you off with condescending sympathy. 

Wow, maybe Satoru and Suguru were a little more shitty than you initially thought. 

Eventually, the night draws to a close. They're drunk, full, and smiling. Perfect. You clear your throat just when Shoko refills her fourth glass. 

"Again, I'd really like to thank you for letting me stay." You start. "It meant so much to me to have two amazing people to support me like this. So, thank you." 

Utahime smiles. "Don't thank us," she says, "again, you can stay for as long as you want-forever, honestly!" 

You nod. "Well, I don't think I have to do that anymore." 

Shoko freezes mid-sip. 

"What?" She asks. 

"I talked to my parents." You tell them, oblivious to their stone faces. "And I'm going to move back in with them, just until I get back on my feet. Isn't that great? Now, you two won't have to-" 

You stop when you finally notice how cold they look. Utahime looks close to tears. 

"What's wrong?" You ask. 

"You're leaving?" Utahime asks, her voice nearly cracks. "Why?" 

That...wasn't what you were expecting. Shouldn't they be glad the third wheel is finally out of their house? Why does Utahime look so heartbroken? Why is Shoko so quiet? What was going on?

"Isn't-isn't this what you wanted?" You fumble with your words. "Now, you don't have to share the house with me anymore. It'll be just the two of you again." 

They exchange glances, and it reminds you of those secret conversations Suguru and Satoru used to have. Except this time, you can read their faces. 

"What if...we don't want it to be just the two of us anymore?" Shoko starts, hesitant, reproachful like she's approaching a scared wild animal. 

Your eyebrows scrunch. "I don't understand." 

At that, Utahime drops her head in her hands. "Oh, c'mon! We've been doing this for weeks! You can't be that oblivious-" 

And then, she stops herself. Looks at you. You stare right back, and the three of you have the exact same realization at the exact same time. 

"Oh." You breathe. 

"Oh." Utahime whispers. 

"We're all idiots." Shoko says behind her glass. 

"Wait wait. Hold on." You backtrack. "You-you two want...with me?" 

"Yes!" Utahime exclaims. "Yes! God, now everything makes sense. I thought you were just trying to let us down gently, but this whole time you just weren't even paying attention!" 

"No." You argue, face hot. "You two were just really subtle." 

"We all sleep in the same room, these days." Shoko lists. "'Hime sat on your lap with nothing on but a bra and panties." 

"I thought we were just doing friend things!" 

"What kinds of friends sit on your lap, half-naked?" Utahime asks, mortified. 

"I-I-" You give up. 

All this time. You were mourning over something you lost months ago, even when there was something blooming right under your nose. God, you're an idiot. 

Hands. They clasp your own. You look up into Utahime's pretty brown eyes. 

"We want you to stay." She whispers. "We want you." You take a glance at Shoko. 

"Do you want us?" 

You take a deep breath. 

You nod. 

She's smiling, and then Utahime's kissing you. Soft, so soft, nothing like the possessive kisses Satoru gives you. It's innocent and adoring and you find yourself melting into her completely. 

Utahime disappears and before you can mourn her warmth, Shoko's lips join yours. You can smell the alcohol, the slightest sting of cigarettes. You don't mind it. Her kisses are nothing like Suguru's, all powerful and domineering. She takes what you give her, asking ever so nicely for more. 

You break away, panting. 

"You good?" She asks. 

You nod. 

"Good." Shoko hums. "Cuz we're gonna fuck you now." 

"What?" 

Shoko pushes you down on the couch. You land with an oomph before Utahime's descends on you with a flurry of kisses. 

"Waited so long to do this, baby." She's sighing into your lips, fiddling with your shirt so she can pull it off. "Weeks and weeks." 

She pulls down one of your bra cups, massaging at your tits. You hadn't had action in so long, so you eagerly encouraged her movements, kissing her back with just as much fervor. Shoko takes her place next to her girlfriend, pawing at your other tit. 

"Look." Shoko purrs. "One for each of us." Her soft mouth sucks on your nipple, swirling it around her mouth. Your head leans back with a pleasant sigh. 

"Feel good?" Utahime asks. "She's good with her tongue, isn't she?" 

"Yes," you nod, and Utahime gives out a delighted giggle, peppering your face with kisses. You gasp when you feel her hand shift through your shorts, palming at your dripping pussy. 

"Poor thing." Utahime's cooing, and there's a brief hint of mockery in her tone. You've never heard that before. It turns you on even more. "They never gave you attention back there did they?" She circles your clit. "They were too busy sucking each other's dicks to pay attention to such a pretty pussy." 

Shoko pops off your tits, shifting down. She kisses her way to your stomach. You blearily watch as she adjusts herself until she's right at your shorts. Utahime follows her lead, tugging off your shorts. Your panties go next. 

And then you're staring down at them with trepid anticipation. 

"I meant what I said." Shoko says softly. "You deserve better. You deserve someone who cares for you." 

"You deserve us." With that, She and Utahime latch onto your pussy. 

They're everywhere. You have to stop yourself from cumming right then and there, arching your back as one of them sucks on your clit while the other licks into your hole. She manages to stick her tongue inside of you, and it's enough to shoot sparks through your eyes. 

"So tight." Utahime's hissing into your cunt. "Sho, after this, you wanna try to fuck this pussy with your strap?" 

There's a soft laugh, and Shoko pulls away from your clit to answer, much to your disappointment. You whine, thrusting your hips in the air. She stills you with a hush. 

"I don't think we're ready just yet." She hums. "Yet." 

When you glance down, they both are making out with your clit. It's debaucherous. Their soft lips are connected, your tiny bud locked in the middle as their spit trickles down into your pussy. Utahime groans and when you look further down, you realize she's touching herself. 

You don't know which part of this makes you cum, but you cum. It's the hardest you've ever orgasmed. There's so much stimulation that your hips buck up, trying to chase the sparks of pleasure. They let you, licking you through your orgasm. 

When you come down, your thighs fall apart, splayed against the soft cushions. Utahime still isn't finished, licking at your clit. You shudder at the overstimulation, whining until Shoko is pulling her off of you by her hair. 

"Good, baby?" She asks, crawling back up to you. You kiss her as an answer. She melts in delight. 

You break the kiss, glancing over at Utahime. 

Taking the silent request, she kisses you again. You can taste yourself on her lips. You don't mind it. For some reason, it's sweeter on Utahime's tongue. 

When she breaks away, she stares at you, face soft. "You're staying, right?" She asks you. "You'll stay with us? Because after this, I don't think we could ever let you go." 

You give a shy nod, and Utahime beams. 

"Then, you're ours now," Shoko says, settling into your side. "And we're yours. Always." 

"Always." You breathe, content, happy. You could almost go to sleep. 

Shoko slaps your thigh. 

"Not yet." She warns before propping you up. "First, I want you to sit on my face." 

Hours later, you wake up delightfully sore in bed. The two girls are curled up next to you. When you move, you can still feel the bruises Utahime left. You never knew she liked to bite so much. 

You can't even begin to remember what happened, but you don't regret any of it. Hours and hours had passed as they fucked you and fucked each other, and you fucked them. 

Shoko shifts beside you. She was always a light sleeper. 

"Awake?" She asks. 

"Yeah." You softly say back. 

She hums, shifting a little more to face you. Utahime's behind you, arms protectively curled around your waist. At your voice, her eyes twitch. 

"Shut up." She grumbles, but her arms cinch around your waist. 

Shoko stretches as she rises up. You miss her body warmth but you don't mind the view she gives as she saunters over to the dresser, pulling on some clothes. 

"I'm gonna get food." 

Utahime mumbles out her order. You say nothing because you don't want to come in between them, and then Shoko looks at you. 

"What do you want?" She prompts. 

You blink, and when you answer, Shoko smiles, and then she's out the door. 

The interaction makes your heart warm. 

Still, it can't last. 

When you go to get up, Utahime protests, grabbing your wrist. 

"And where are you going?" She prods. 

You fumble. "Back to my room?" 

"What? Why?" Utahime demands with a frown. "What's the point, you're already with us, now." 

"Oh." You blink, but you give in and slink back into bed. "Is...this really okay?" 

"For God's sake, " she hisses, but you don't count it against her because Utahime has always been a little grumpy after waking up. "Yes. We're obsessed with you. How are you so blind?" 

"We want you, and we're not like them." Her voice drops in disdain. "We'll treat you better. You're ours now. You're mine." 

"Yours." You repeat, something warm fluttering in your belly. 

"You can't leave, we'd go crazy, okay?" She seriously tells you. "If someone else takes you away, I'd lose it. And Shoko is okay with murder." 

You laugh. 

"That's not a joke." She warns. 

"I know." And you kiss her again. 

It's like that for a couple weeks. You live in peaceful domestic bliss with two wonderful girlfriends. Now that you're in an actual loving relationship, you can't tell why you ever contemplated ever going back to Satoru and Suguru. Shoko actually talked to you about your feelings. Utahime cared about your input. You weren't treated like an afterthought, second place. 

They were with each other longer than they had been with you, but they never made you feel like you had to fight for your relationship. Speaking off Satoru and Suguru, they never once contacted you after their first two attempts. They'd clearly given up. 

Everything was just perfect. 

And then, it just wasn't. 

You were in bed with them. Fifteen minutes ago, Utahime shuffled off to go to the bathroom. She still wasn't back. Half asleep, Shoko grumbled. 

"She's probably in there fighting a cockroach." She complains, but she rises anyway. "Sleep, I'll be back." She kisses you on the cheek, and then she's gone. 

Their body warmth fades, but they stay because they're tired. These days, you can't really sleep without them, so you wait for the girls to return. Two minutes pass. Then, five. Then, ten. By then, the bed is cold. 

You open your eyes, sitting up. It's so quiet. Are they okay? 

You pull off the comforter, stepping onto the cold wooden floor. The apartment feels strangely...haunted somehow. The air felt heavier now, thick with an invisible tension, like the house itself was holding its breath. It must be because you feel alone, you're sure of it. 

The bedroom leads to a dark hallway. As you make your way down, you can hear something. Voices? Murmuring. The relief almost makes you laugh. Seriously, what were you even afraid about? 

The living room is horrific. 

They look dead. You can't tell if they're breathing or not. Shoko's eyes are closed. Utahime's limp body is sprawled across the floor. There's blood on the wooden panels. 

Suguru doesn't even blink. 

"You're awake." He says it so casually, like waking up to your ex-boyfriends mauling your girlfriends is normal. 

"What..." Your voice fails, you weakly try again. "What did you two do?" 

Satoru answers, smiling with glinty teeth. 

"Isn't it obvious? We're getting rid of the competition." 

You don't understand, your brain hasn't caught up yet, you still think you can talk to these psychos. 

"It's their fault." Satoru's still smiling, but there's nothing happy about his tone. He's carrying a knife. There's blood on it. "It's all their fault. They manipulated you into breaking up with us, baby. That's how these useless sluts got you into their arms." He spits on Utahime's hair. You cover your face with your hands. 

"But, it's not like you aren't at fault, Baby." He points the knife at you. "You left us for them. I'm not letting you off the hook for that." 

You don't know what he's saying. His movements scare you, his eyes, the knife. When you glance at Suguru, you don't know what you're expecting. 

But you know you aren't expecting...that. 

His purple eyes are icy cold. Utterly devoid of any emotion. You don't think you're staring at a person, anymore. 

"You lied," Suguru says, "You lied about us not giving you enough attention. You just wanted to leave us. For them." 

You step back. They step forward. 

Those bastards would've never let you go otherwise. Utahime warned you. Looking at her limp body, you wondered if she thought they'd ever go this far. 

"I didn't." You weakly insist. "I-I wasn't lying about anything! It-it wasn't like I wanted to leave-" 

"Stop lying," Gojo insists. "Stop fucking lying already." 

He smiles again. 

"It's okay, baby. I know you'll come back with us. Right after we're done dealing with these two whores." 

"You'll belong to us." Suguru promises and he steps on Shoko's hands. "Just like always."

They were both crazy. Nothing could get through to them. Now, you would sit there and watch them maul the only things in your life that made you feel complete. 

The worst part is that everything was your fault. 

Shoko's pinky twitches. You can see Utahime take shallow breathes.

And you speak. 

"I'm sorry." 

Your weak voice makes them stop in their tracks. Satoru glances at you, Suguru does too. You can't convince them. The only thing you can do is play into their delusions. 

"You're right." You say, the tears finally feeling useful. "I just wanted to leave. I-I was just bored. I wanted something new." Suguru's lips curl and you quickly move on. "But-but the more I stayed with them, the more I realized...how much I missed you two." 

Satoru halts. You caught him. 

"I did." You stress, carefully making your way to him on feet that were close to dropping at any minute. "Every day, I thought about you two." You reach out, touching his face with shaky fingers. "I really really wanted to come back, but I was afra-afraid you wouldn't...want me back."

Satoru reaches up to touch your hand. His fingers are cold. You resist the urge to shudder. 

"You missed us?" He wonders. 

The lie feels like sand. 

"More than anything." 

His kiss is violent. He crushes you with his grip, touching and biting and everything you hate. You squeeze your eyes shut, letting him suck your soul dry. 

"Don't kill them." You whisper when he finally pulls away. "Please don't kill them. Everything was my fault." 

Satoru's face is pensive. His gaze drifts off to Suguru's. Those silent conversations you hated so much. 

Then, Satoru gives a delighted sigh. 

"You're lucky. I love you so much." He kisses your nose, before pushing you in Suguru's arms. 

"I'll clean up here. Suguru, go back to the truck." He demands. 

You don't fight, letting Suguru drag you away. Shoko and Utahime live in apartments, but you're afraid if you scream, Satoru might change his mind and gut them anyway. Before Suguru leads you off, you catch Gojo scoffing before he kicks at Utahime's face. You gasp and pray that when Shoko wakes up, she'll be coherent enough to call for an ambulance. 

I'm sorry, you tell them. I'm so so sorry. 

Suguru pushes you into the backseat of their vehicle. You obediently take a seat. 

"You shouldn't have left." He tells you. "You should've stayed." 

His face is cold, but his tone betrays the tiniest tremor. If you weren't so scared, you'd laugh. The irony is that he's the one who feels wronged here. 

"I'm sorry," you say anyway. 

He hums, not quite satisfied with your answer. 

"You aren't." He responds, and you hate how well he knows your tells. 

And then, he grins. 

"But you will be."

Hands reach out, gripping your neck. You flail immediately as Suguru cuts of your oxygen. You can't breathe. You can't fucking breathe. No matter how tightly you squeeze onto his wrist, digging your nails into his hands, clawing at his face. He keeps you still, keeping you there as you grow weaker. Your vision gets blurry. Your attempts get sluggish. There's a kiss on your forehead, and you black out completely. 

~

You wake up in a room you've never seen before. And your neck is sore. 

The pain drifts in as soon as consciousness does. You feel like you have a hangover, your head throbs, your eyes struggle to remain open. You can't go back to sleep either, not when it hurts so much. 

The panic doesn't settle in until you catch the cuffs on either one of your legs, keeping you attached to the bedpost. Silver chains, with enough lead to let you move around a bit. The cuffs are padded so you don't rub yourself raw. You don't care about the thoughtfulness. 

They're in the room with you, watching with silent eyes. Nausea builds up in your stomach, and you wonder how long they'd stayed there, just watching you. 

You miss Shoko. You miss Utahime. You missed people who actually loved you. 

Not these two. Monsters that lied and pretended, but deep down, they were just too selfish to share. 

"You were out for a while." Suguru comments. 

"I told you to use the syringe," Satoru remarks, but he doesn't sound too upset. At his voice, Suguru laughs. 

You shift in your spot. Suguru takes that as an invitation. He sits at the edge of the bed, watching you with satisfied eyes. You must look pathetic: shivering, in tears. He reaches up, catching your tears with his finger.

"So cute." And then he frowns. "You know why we're doing this, yes? You were bad. You need to be punished."

"I'm sorry." It's all you can say. You feel like a broken record, doomed to repetition over and over again.

"You aren't. You should stop lying." Suguru says sweetly. "But I'm sure, a couple hours in your new home will help you think about how much you hurt us."

You wanted to scream, but you can't cuz your throat still hurts from Suguru's hands, and you know he's not above putting his hands on you this time. Maybe he never was, you just never saw this side of him until you made him snap.

"You're leaving?" You stumble, moving as they back away but the chains only take you so far. There are no windows, and when Suguru shuts the light off, the only thing that's keeping you from the dark entirely is the light emitting out the hallway.

"Wait." You beg. "Please. Wait, don't-don't leave me here. I'm sorry. This is scary. I'm scared."

Satoru hesitates at your broken voice. Like a shark smelling blood, you pounce.

"Satoru, please."

"If you keep coddling, then the lesson will never be learned." Suguru warns.

Satoru stares at you. He's not wearing his sunglasses. You can see him for what he is now.

"I love you." He says it so sincerely, you almost believe it. "This is for your own good."

The door shuts, and everything goes dark.

[igotanidea]

Hands skills: Jason Todd x reader

Warning: suggestive, but not explicit :D

***

Y/N didn;t say a single word when Jason picked up pottery. She thought it would be good for him to have a hobby apart from vigilantism and that it would keep his mind occupied with something other than crime, fighting and desperation.

Smiling, nodding and appreciating him every time he brought home something he made himself, no matter if it was a crooked vase or an impossible-to-drink-from mug.

Y/N didn;t say a single word when he started playing the guitar. It was kinda nice and she hoped that having to suffer through the initial stage of out-of-tune ripping would pay off in the long term.

Y/N didn;t say a single word when she noticed Jason working out on his calligraphy skills, though that was a bit surprising. It wasn't like he was writing that much after all. But she was okay with it, as long as it brought him a smile.

But when one day she came home and saw him with a needle, trying to embroider, she couldn't hold back.

"What is with all the hobbies, Jason? I swear you did like seven activities in the last three months. Is everything all right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, everything's perfect..." he muttered, sticking his tongue out in the form of concentration, trying to maneuver the needle and form a particularly complicated pattern.

"Then why--"

"Oh, princess, come on. Can;t you see what I'm doing here?" he put the floss down and looked at her with a teasing smirk.

"Um, nope?" Y/N frowned in confusion, not getting where he was heading with that joke.

"I'm practicing my hands, sunshine."

"Practicing your- Whatever for?" for a moment her confusion was only growing,

"You."

"Me?"

"What, did you think I was actually enjoying embroidery? Please." Jason rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

oh... oh damn, he was working on his hands skills.

For her.

And that very night, she experienced for herself that suffering through Jason's everchanging hobbies paid off.

He did improve his hands skills.

Significantly,  

[kaisacobra]

I See You - Tara Carpenter

Part 2 of I Dare You

Summary: At one of Amber's infamous parties, Tara's feelings get more and more complicated as she starts getting to know you.

Warnings: Fem!Painter!Reader, slow burn, mentions of sex, alcohol and partying, minor angst, non canon/high school

w.c: 6.9k

So, the glitch in the matrix seemed to be lasting much longer than you anticipated.

You did your best to forget the interaction you'd had with Tara and, honestly, that hadn't been such a difficult task. You still had a life, after all, and the rest of your day was divided into making preparations for the volunteering you'd be doing at the hospital during the weekend, studying and trying to make any progress on your painting.

Unfortunately, the last task proved itself to be annoyingly impossible, no matter how hard you tried. You'd tried everything from throwing random brushstrokes at the canvas to staring at the blank space while upside down in your bed, which filled your brain with blood but not with ideas.

There came a point when you had to admit defeat, at least for a day, and you picked up your phone to try to distract yourself from what seemed to be your greatest artistic failure. Your plans were to doomscroll through all possible social media and try to get the slightest bit of inspiration, but your attention was grabbed by a text notification coming from your Instagram.

From the username, it was clear that the text had been from none other than Tara Carpenter, which made your heart race a little in response. Your profile was a bit hard to find because there were no photos of you, which meant that Tara specifically had to look for you for a while. What's more, your profile was basically an exhibition of your artwork and the idea of someone other than your friends and teacher looking at all your projects made you a little anxious.

The texts themselves contained nothing much, apart from Tara apologizing for taking your pen (which you didn't even remember lending, to be honest) and then trying to strike up a conversation by asking you about Freddy vs Leatherface. Even so, noticing that she'd made an effort to keep on talking to you left you swooning.

You answered, of course. It would be rude to leave someone on read, wouldn't it? And besides, you were already planning to procrastinate anyway, so why not be nice and talk to Tara for a few minutes?

Who cares if minutes became hours, right?

And when school started the next day, you felt lighter, somehow. To your relief, no one seemed to remember your disastrous stumble the day before (probably because few people remembered you in general) and so you didn't have to deal with any giggles or weird looks.

You were in the middle of getting some books out of your locker when a familiar pen levitated into your field of vision. Your gaze followed the tanned arm that was holding it and you were met with long eyelashes and a sly smile.

“I'm a woman of my word! Here's your pen.” Tara raised the object towards you, making a funny reference to the text she had sent you the day before.

You rolled your eyes in amusement, although you couldn't hold the expression for long due to the corners of your lips lifting involuntarily. You took the small item from her hand and quickly put it in your bag. “Thanks, it's good to know you're not a thief. Did you at least bring one pen today?”

She understood the light, false accusatory tone in your voice and raised her hand, showing two fingers raised in a V. “Haha. Just so you know, I brought two today.”

It was amazing how instantaneous and right that conversation felt, almost as if it was the kind of thing you did all the time and not for the first time. Talking to Tara was surprisingly easy and you could see at least a friendship blooming between you in the near future.

If it weren't for the fact that she hangs out with the most insufferable people in the world, of course.

The reminder of Tara's group of friends hit you like a thunderbolt and made your chest ache for some reason. The words of both Ethan and Mindy echoed in your head, warning you to be careful, but a large chunk of your mind also insisted on reminding you of Anika's more positive opinion on the topic.

You turned to your locker again, pretending you were looking for something that didn't even exist. “I could never manage with just one pen.” You added politely, not wanting to leave Tara's joke unanswered just because your thoughts were getting muddled.

“I know. Artist and all, aren't you?” The girl nodded and you could see out of the corner of your eye as she leaned on the locker next to you, crossing her arms while still looking at you with a thoughtful expression. “Hey, don't you feel like going to a party tonight?”

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as you processed what she had said, but Tara remained completely unbothered by your side. As far as you knew, the Carpenter girl didn't usually throw parties, but Amber Freeman did, and she'd instituted a very specific rule about them ever since she'd thrown the first one during your freshman year:

Invite only. No losers allowed.

And, as far as you knew, in Amber's opinion you were included in the word “losers”.

“I don't think so.” You shook your head. “Amber's throwing this party, isn't she? I don't have an invitation and I don't even like parties that much.”

Tara laughed out loud at that, causing a few heads to turn in your direction and your cheeks to heat up like coals. “I'm inviting you, ain't I? and seriously! I've never even seen you at the boring school parties, how are you supposed to know if you like parties or not without ever having tried them?”

Okay, you weren't expecting Tara to rebut your arguments or be so insistent about your presence. Was it getting warmer or was it just your impression? “But... I don't even know anyone who's going, I'll probably just stand in the corner the whole night. And also, I have an appointment the next day, I can't, like, go wild...”

Unexpectedly, Tara let out an even louder laugh, this time even wiping away a tear that ran down her cheek. “Go wild? You're hilarious.” She controlled her breathing, still keeping a bright smile on her face. “You don't have to drink if you don't want to, no one's going to force you. And about the being alone part, you can invite those friends of yours. Amber won't mind, she wants more people at her parties anyway and she refuses to call sophomores and below.”

You looked at her with surprise and suspicion. Invite your friends? Did Tara remember that your friends included Mindy Meeks-Martin? Like, basically Amber's number one enemy, Mindy Meeks-Martin?

Tara finally noticed your wary expression and sighed, uncrossing her arms and raising both hands in a peaceful gesture. “Look, Amber said I could invite nice people and I think you're nice. She'll be busy with other things anyway, she probably won't even notice that your friends are there.”

You bit your lower lip, considering your options. On the one hand, parties weren't exactly your natural habitat and you still had your doubts about whether or not you were welcome there. On the other hand, Tara had been so kind to you lately and... for some reason, you wanted to explore it a little further.

“Can I give you an answer later? I'll ask my friends if they're going.” That's what you decided to answer, choosing to leave your conflicting future in the hands of your dear companions.

Tara nodded a yes and complemented the action with a shrug. “Okay. But even if they decide not to go, I think you should give it a chance.”

Suddenly, the bell for the first period echoed in the corridors, waking you both up to the fact that you had to be in your classrooms in a few seconds. As lockers closed and teenagers ran to avoid being late, Tara lazily turned around and started walking away, ending your interaction.

But you didn't want it to end so soon. In a impulsive act, you raised your voice. “What should I wear?”

Tara turned as soon as she heard you and her eyes slowly traveled up and down your body as a smile worthy of the Cheshire cat broke out on her face. “Wear something pretty! But I think you were already going to do that anyway.”

System crash. Your brain shortcutted. Did Tara had just...? No, she couldn't have possibly... checked you out? Were you seeing things?

As Tara's back got further and further down the corridor, you ran back to your classroom, muttering on the way, “God, I'm really not your strongest soldier.”

_

“I need to ask you something.”

You were extremely nervous. Your fingers kept drumming on the table and your brain was desperately trying to think of a way to convince your friends to A) go to Amber's party with you and B) not think you were out of your mind.

Tara's words (and her actions, by the way) really made you consider that crazy possibility. On any other occasion, you would have denied it as quickly as possible and then run away, but you were finding that Tara Carpenter could be extremely convincing.

Mindy swallowed a piece of the sandwich she was holding, making a dismissive gesture with her hands. “I’ve told you before, we have no interest in a throuple.”

Sitting next to her with her feet propped up on her girlfriend's lap, Anika raised an eyebrow and smiled playfully. “Who says we don't?”

“What?!” Both Mindy and Ethan shouted, although the girl clearly got the joke and was just going along with it, while the boy seemed really bothered by the idea. You and Anika let out a loud chuckle and you smiled at her in appreciation, knowing that she had joked around just to make you less nervous.

With the mood more relaxed, you took a deep breath and said the words in rapid fire, fearing that they would never come out if you lingered too long. “Tara invited me to Amber's party and she said I could invite you guys. Would you go with me? Please?”

“Absolutely not.” Mindy quickly denied your request, putting on an angry expression. “And why would you want to go to a party like that, anyway?”

“That's right, only assholes go to that kind of thing.” Ethan agreed with the girl, looking equally annoyed by your suggestion.

Your eyes turned to Anika in a plea for help and she nodded almost imperceptibly. Opening her famous warm smile that reached her eyes, she grabbed Mindy's arm and pouted. “Pleeeeeeeeeeeease, I've always wanted to go to a party like this. We can just go and laugh at people being dumb.”

“We can laugh at people being dumb at school literally all the time, I don't need to be at Amber Freeman's house for that.” Mindy objects, but it's obvious that she's already starting to give in to her girlfriend's charms by the way her face looks more peaceful.

Anika looked in your direction and you understood that you would have to stay in that ping pong game of arguments until the other two gave in. “Amber won't even notice we were there! Tara said there would be too many people for her to handle.”

“Aaaand,” Anika added, moving even closer to Mindy, almost sitting on her lap on that narrow wooden bench. “Our theme for the A.V club project is literally young and reckless! What's more young and reckless than Amber's parties?! We'll get some great material if we go!”

Mindy considered the proposal for long seconds that left you on the edge of your seat. You knew Ethan would probably go if you all did, so it was really all in the Meeks-Martin girl's hands.

Finally, she sighed and rolled her eyes, slipping an arm around her girlfriend's shoulders. “Okay, I'll go. But I’m warning you, if Amber even looks in my direction, I won't answer for myself.”

Anika squealed, grabbing Mindy's face and pulling her close to kiss her cheek, which clearly got the girl flustered even though she only replied with an “alright, alright”. You smiled at this, feeling a mixture of amusement and relief at knowing that your friends had agreed to embark with you on this madness.

Ethan hadn't necessarily agreed yet, but when you looked in his direction, he sighed dramatically, so that his brown curls moved with the wind. “If you're both going, I think I'll go to keep y/n company. So she won't be a third wheel and won't be bothered by idiots, you know?”

You thanked the boy with a pat on the shoulder and his smile automatically widened. Across the table, Mindy laughed. “Oh, I don't think you have to worry about y/n getting third wheeled, Ethan. Tara invited her, did you forget?”

“Holy shit. I have to tell Tara.” You remembered your conversation with the girl earlier, rushing into her DMs and completely ignoring the jokes and teasing from the girls in front of you.

You just hoped they could also ignore your completely flustered behavior.

 _

We're going!

A simple message had made Tara's day a thousand times better. She'd forgotten how insufferable Amber could be on party days, as well as the fact that Liv had spent the whole day acting like a pick-me-girl because Chad had been spending much more time on his phone than with her lately.

She'd put her best Casanova act into play when she'd spoken to you earlier, but somehow your sense of humor made her break character and just act like herself, which was something she couldn't remember doing so freely in a long time.

Of course she had appealed for a bit of her charm at the end, but she just couldn't hold back when you had opened up such a perfect opening for her to flirt.

“You should really thank me, you know that?” A familiar voice whispered close to her ear and soon pale arms wrapped around her neck in a grip that bordered on uncomfortable. “I basically handed you your challenge on a platter by letting you invite those weirdos.”

Tara was annoyed by the comment and she quickly disentangled herself from the hug, bumping into Amber and her devilish expression. The shorter girl huffed, fixing her clothes and hair as if that was the real reason she had walked away.

At least this time she didn't turn red. That was progress.

“Shut up. If anything happens, it'll be my merit.” Tara slung her bag over her shoulder, walking along with Amber and the other students to the exit after another tiring Friday of classes.

The taller girl didn't even mind Tara's protests, shaking her head as if she didn't believe the freckled girl’s words. “Anyway, at least you'll be busy while I'm doing someone and won't be bothering me the next day.”

They walked out the door and fortunately Tara could already see Sam's car parked not far away. The girl turned her face in the opposite direction of her friend’s, pretending it was due to the sun and hoping Amber hadn't seen the pained expression on her face. “Whatever. See you later, Freeman.”

“See you later, Carpenter!” Amber shouted back, but Tara didn't turn around to wave goodbye and kept her head down until she reached the old sedan her mother used to drive. At least that was until she was no longer sober enough to hold a steering wheel.

Inside the car, Sam raised her head when she heard the door open and close after Tara got into the passenger seat. She started to back out of the parking lot, occasionally glancing at her younger sister who seemed to be upset beside her. “So... how was school?”

“Don't fucking start.” Tara muttered, putting on her headphones in a quick move to isolate herself from the world and from an older sister who suddenly wanted to be there for her after abandoning her alone with an alcoholic for a year.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head on the window, trying not to think about how Amber really got on her nerves sometimes, or think about the guilt that was starting to rise up inside her after being rude to Sam for nothing. Why couldn't her mind stop working for just one minute?

But as she tried to make her own thoughts go blank, a pleasant memory surfaced. Tara remembered your conversation earlier, the way you could understand each other's moods and how genuinely happy she was that you were going to the party for her.

Maybe, if she just kissed you and hid the real reason behind everything, you could even be friends after all. Maybe she could even convince Amber that you were a nice person, so that you could hang out with them.

Of course, these were only wishful thinking, but Tara wanted peace and, at the moment, the utopian idea of having you around gave her that exact feeling. 

_

“Okay, now give me a spin.”

You turned in your place at Anika's request, being mindful to not to get out of the sight of your phone camera, which was leaning awkwardly on your desk. Your room was a mess of clothes scattered all over the place, highlighting your intense search to decide on the perfect outfit to wear for the party.

“So?” You asked your friend, who had her attention split between the video call and her own elaborate makeup.

Anika seemed to finish her analysis on your look while you were about to start trembling with anxiety. You trusted the girl's fashion sense more than anything and you swore you could have started crying if she said that your outfit wasn't good. Fortunately, her response was a positive nod and a satisfied grin. “Oh, you look so cute!”

You looked down, once again staring at the outfit you had chosen, which was a comfortable one, but neat enough to let people know that you had put some effort into dressing up.

Receiving compliments had never exactly been your strong suit, but as much as you felt awkward about Anika's comment, you couldn't get Tara's recommendation out of your head. “Yeah, but do I look pretty?”

“Of course you do! Cute, pretty, it's all the same!”

You frowned, still feeling annoyed. Fashion had never exactly been your forte and that fact was your Achilles heel at the moment, since you still weren't convinced that “cute” and “pretty” were the same thing. In your opinion, Tara seemed to be the type who liked pretty girls, but not cute girls.

Or maybe it didn't make any sense at all and you were just going crazy at the thought of spending the next few hours in a house full of people you either didn't know or didn't like. Besides, when did you start caring about the kind of girl Tara liked?

“I can hear your thoughts from here, you know?” Anika called out, making your head snap out of that internal cycle of overthinking. “Is this all to impress Tara?”

“Ugh.” You grunted, flopping onto your bed oblivious to the dozens of clothes that were crumpling under your body. “No? Maybe? I don't know.”

You felt ashamed of the situation, even though you knew Anika wasn't the judgmental type. Your feelings were still confusing and you definitely didn't feel ready to admit that you thought about Tara more than you should, but there was also no way to hide something that was so obvious.

“Hey, it's okay, you know? Actually, I'm glad to see you're interested in someone.” Anika replied kindly, which made you work up the courage to sit up, staring at your friend's genuine expression through the screen. “I know you're worried about Mindy and all, but Chad's always nice to me when I go to their house and it was super easy to do some school work with Wes for our calc class.”

She continued, “What I mean is that Tara could still be a nice girl for you, no matter how much there's this Romeo and Juliet thing going on between our groups.”

“It's not that. I mean, it is a bit, but also...” You sighed, trying hard not to run your hands through your hair and make it look messy. “... I don't think she'd be interested in me. I mean, she's been giving me these signals but, I don't know, maybe she does it with everyone?”

Anika tsked, shaking her head and giving you a playful smile. “I've never heard of Tara being a player.”

You groaned again, turning your face away as if the act would somehow stop you from feeling so flustered. Anika laughed in response. “Just enjoy the moment! You already know she's the straight forward type, don't you? If she wants something from you, I'm sure she'll get it.”

“Anika!” You shrieked, appalled by what she was inferring. Your entire face seemed to be engulfed in lava as your friend laughed even louder at the clear shock you expressed.

“What?! The world needs more people like that, you know? That's why I'm going to take the initiative to run away to a corner with Mindy at the first opportunity and-.”

“Ew! No! Stop talking! Please, you're my mother figures!”

_

The walls of the house seemed to shake under Tara's fingers as she leaned on it, making her way to the bathroom in slow, crooked steps as she cursed quietly at the amount of people crowding into the hallway.

They were screaming with joy, slurring the lyrics of the extremely loud song that was playing on the huge speakers in the living room, echoing throughout the house and possibly the entire block. Thank God, Wes had already taken care of his mother.

Tara groaned the whole way, feeling like pushing away all the sweaty, alcohol-altered people who bumped into her shoulder, unable to see properly through the colored lights that made the place look like a nightclub. She sighed in relief when she finally found the bathroom, opening the door and locking herself inside without caring about the noise it made.

She turned on the lights and leaned on the sink with both hands, leaning over to look at her reflection in the mirror, with tired eyes and her bangs sticking to her forehead from sweat. God, how could she have been so shaken up by a measly hour of partying? She used to be able to take a lot more.

But she also knew exactly what had led up to it and the smell of alcohol on her lips wouldn't let her lie. She thought she was going to have more fun, but her evening became much more difficult after she saw Amber stick her tongue down the throats of at least three people right in front of her, making a point of giving Tara a thumbs-up afterwards, almost as if she was trying to annoy her friend on purpose.

Tara tried everything to make herself less bothered. She'd danced, she'd watched some people play 7 minutes in heaven, she'd even flirted with a few people just for fun, but in the end, what had stopped her blood from pounding furiously in her ears had been the beers stocked in Amber's basement fridge.

She stopped after the third one, after she felt tipsy enough. She didn't want to be her mother's daughter, who didn't know her own limits and fell asleep on the living room carpet because she didn't have the strength to walk to her own room. And the drinks helped for a while, but now that the sweat had evaporated the effect of the alcohol on herself, her headache left her one scream or punch away from going insane.

Tara splashed water on her face, oblivious to the fact that her makeup was getting smudged or her bangs got even wetter. At this point, she no longer cared about much other than surviving the rest of the night.

Once she had pulled herself together, she sighed and left the bathroom, expecting to be dragged into the living room by the crowd of teenagers dancing and jumping around like wild animals, but instead she ended up being bumped in the opposite direction, almost knocking her off balance.

“Oh my God, I'm sorry!” Gentle hands rushed to hold Tara up before she fell and she followed the length of the arms with her eyes until she bumped into a familiar face. It was you, who was now staring at Tara with a frown. The girl couldn't help herself and looked you up and down, mentally appreciating the way you were dressed.

You quickly took your hands off Tara's shoulders, rubbing them anxiously. The girl felt a tug in her chest as she remembered that she had invited you and you most likely should have spent all this time looking for her, while she was drinking and whining about not having the attention of the biggest bitch in Woodsboro. Drunk and abandoning people? Wow, the Carpenter women's genes never fail.

“I didn't realize you'd already arrived.” Tara broke the awkward silence, mentally thanking you for being upstairs and being able to talk without having to shout over the hip hop track playing in the living room.

You looked away, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Yeah. It's been a while.”

Tara nodded, feeling a little disappointed in herself as she realized that you had clearly been annoyed by her absence. She tried to strike up a conversation again, wishing she could somehow put a smile on your face. “What brings you upstairs? Not enjoying the energy of the party?”

“I was looking for the bathroom.” You sighed, hugging your elbows. “Actually, I was more looking to escape to the bathroom, because I was planning to hide there until my friends decided to leave.”

“You really don’t like parties, huh?” Tara joked, but the smile on her face hardened when she realized that you hadn't laughed along with her.

Tara felt terrible. Sure, you'd only had a few interactions before, but all of them had proved that you could understand each other easily. Now, Tara didn't know if it was the party, if it was her or something else that had made you look so uncomfortable, but she was determined to make it up to you for being an idiot.

“You know, I think I have a better hiding place than a small bathroom.” She leaned towards you, as if she was sharing a secret. “Are you interested?”

You scrutinized the girl's face and she couldn't help but be disappointed that you didn't even seem to be affected by your proximity as you usually would. Your arms were crossed as you felt suspicious of her offer. “Don't you have to go back to the party?”

Tara made a dismissive gesture with her hand and started walking down the large hallway, looking for a specific room. “Nah, I've been to so many of these that it's lost it’s spark to me.”

Technically, it wasn't a lie. Tara was sick of that party and she'd love to have a distraction from the fact that Amber was now probably at her body count number 100 and Tara wasn't talking about dead people. But then again, she felt strangely committed to making you have at least a little fun and she really liked your company.

Maybe it was just because she felt bad for having invited you in the first place. Yeah, that must be it.

She opened Amber's bedroom door, barging in without hesitation and heading straight for the window, opening it all the way. Behind her, you seemed slightly alarmed by the idea of simply invading the personal space of a girl who could make your life a living hell. “Uh…”

But before you could really protest, Tara put one leg out of the window, glancing in your direction with a playful smile. “Trust me. You’re not scared, are you?”

“I’m not scared, but trusting you? After you invited me to a party you’re trying to escape?” you replied, making Tara's smile widen as she realized you were starting to open up again. “And what are you doing at the window, Rapunzel?”

Tara chuckled, pointing your way. “Wait and see.”

In a swift motion, she raised her hands to the roof platform above her head, pushing off Amber's window with her feet to gain enough momentum to pull herself up with extra effort from her arms. Still holding onto the edge, Tara hung upside down, looking at you through the window with her bangs sticking up. “So, are you coming or not?”

You snorted lightly with the sight, shaking your head as you approached the window. “I’m no Spider-Man. If I fall from here, it’ll be your fault, and I hope they write it down as homicide.”

“Good to know you have so much faith in me.” Tara answered, kneeling on the roof tiles and extending her hand for you to grab. You hesitated for a few seconds, and honestly, Tara couldn’t blame you for it, but she kept looking at you expectantly, trying to communicate with her eyes. Let me make things right with you.

She almost sighed in relief when you finally grabbed her forearm, letting her help you up slowly, pretending not to notice how her hands ended up on your hips. All in the name of making your night a little less boring, of course.

But wow, your body felt... warm.

It didn’t take long for you to pull away from Tara, clearing your throat and sitting on the roof beside her. It would be hard to stand for long due to the slope, but the spot was comfortable enough for you to sit or lie down without the risk of rolling off.

The roof was quite high, not tall enough for you to see the entire city, for example, but high enough that the people below you looked like tiny ants. Ants that were dancing, having fun, and throwing cups of beer at each other.

“Do you come here often?” you broke the silence, but Tara saw the exact moment you winced, realizing way too late the double meaning of your words. “I didn’t mean… I wasn’t…”

“It’s all good.” Tara laughed, considering saying something to tease you even more, but she ultimately decided against it , feeling a bit sorry for your embarrassed state. “And no, to answer your question. I used to spend a lot more time up here before, but now…”

She let the sentence trail off, lost in her own thoughts. Maybe the last time she had been on that roof was the day Sam had gone to rehab, two years ago. Which, looking back now, was probably around the same time Amber stopped being a caring friend and started being the friend that thought Tara complained too much.

The two of you remained in a comfortable silence for a few more seconds—or as quiet as it could be with two massive speakers blasting music two floors below. Tara glanced to the side, staring at your face, which seemed more focused on the starry sky, illuminated only by a few beams of moonlight.

Like she had felt in the car earlier, that sight gave her peace. It wasn’t like looking at Amber, which made her feel like her organs were being squeezed and thrown into an erupting volcano. Looking at you made her feel like a sea breeze was brushing against her face, a comforting, peaceful gust of wind.

Tara’s eyes drifted down to your lips, and she had to run her tongue across her own. Amber’s challenge lingered in the back of her mind, and she was tempted to test if your kiss would be a better distraction than the cheap beer she’d grabbed from the basement.

But suddenly, Tara felt self-conscious. Maybe it was the fact that the idea had been Amber’s, and she was still too annoyed with the girl to give her the satisfaction of being right. Maybe it was because she could still taste the alcohol in her mouth and didn’t want you to taste it too.

Or maybe it was something else. Something gentler and softer that even Tara couldn’t quite describe yet.

“Oh, look!” Tara snapped out of her own thoughts when she saw you excitedly pointing at the sky. “You can see Orion so clearly!”

She followed the direction of your hand with her eyes, feeling confused about what exactly she was supposed to be looking at. That particular night was cloudless, which made the vast array of stars shining in the dark sky exceptionally beautiful.

You noticed the lost expression on the girl’s face beside you and chuckled. “Orion? The constellation?”

“Oh, yeah. I… I know.” Tara just nodded, feeling a bit embarrassed for not being sure what you were referring to. She knew what a constellation was, of course, but she had never studied them in much detail, and in her eyes, all she could see in the sky were random stars, beautiful but completely scattered.

You laughed again, not buying Tara’s excuse for a second after seeing how confused her eyes looked. Gently, your hand held hers as you started pointing out the constellation with both of your hands joined together.

“See those three stars close together? That’s what we call Orion’s belt. It’s much easier to spot the rest of the constellation starting from there. Up there, kind of making a triangle, you have Meissa, Betelgeuse, and Bellatrix, and if you look to the side, it kinda looks like he’s holding a bow.”

Tara wanted to pay attention to your explanation, but her brain turned to mush the moment your hands got entangled, and her heart started pounding like the drums in a heavy metal song. You, on the other hand, seemed completely unaware of the action, which made Tara feel even more like an idiot.

Wow, what was in those drinks?

“You really know a lot about this,” she said, trying to sound normal, even though her voice felt like it could crack at any moment. You smiled at the comment, letting go of her hand to play with your fingers in your lap.

“One day, I had this brilliant idea to paint constellations on my bedroom ceiling—or at least most of them—and I had to do a ton of research to make sure it looked right.” You laughed, and Tara realized she wanted to hear that sound more and more.

“It’s cool that you’re a painter. It’s different.” She wanted to keep the conversation going, eager to learn more about any detail you were willing to offer, but she didn’t exactly know what to say. For someone who usually had no trouble expressing herself, Tara seemed to have forgotten her entire vocabulary.

Luckily, you seemed to be in the opposite situation, feeling comfortable enough to keep talking. “I guess so? I’ve never thought much about it before. Painting is a lot more than just a hobby for me—it’s more like a safe haven, you know?”

Tara nodded instead of giving a verbal response, especially because she knew exactly what you were talking about, but she didn’t have the words to express how much she needed a conversation like this—so simple, yet so healing.

She reached into the pocket of her jacket, slowly pulling out her phone. “Can I take a picture of the constellation?” Tara asked, mentally kicking herself when she heard how vulnerable her voice sounded.

Her tone didn’t go unnoticed by you, and you looked at her with a bit of confusion, but soon after, your eyes softened, shining with kindness—almost as bright as the stars above your heads. “You don’t have to ask me to take pictures of the sky, but do you want me to point it out again?”

“Sorry, old habit.” She shook her head to snap out of it, feeling her cheeks heating up as she started opening the camera app and aiming it upward. “But yeah, please.”

Slowly and gently, you took Tara’s hands again, working together with her to make sure the constellation was perfectly centered. You were close enough for Tara to catch the pleasant scent of your perfume, but she forced herself to stay focused on the picture you two were trying to capture.

After a few successful shots of Orion (which Tara planned to edit later to make it more visible and color-corrected), the two of you lay down side by side, admiring the night’s beauty in another moment of shared, comfortable silence.

_

Now, the silence inside Sam’s car wasn’t as comfortable.

It was the first time Tara had asked Sam to pick her up from a party, especially as late as 2 AM, considering the younger Carpenter always used to sleep over at Amber’s once everything wrapped up.

But after you left, Tara completely lost the desire to stay. The music was dull, she had no interest in drinking or playing any games, and she definitely didn’t want to be around her friends anymore.

She sat in a thoughtful silence, her head resting against the window, watching as the asphalt disappeared behind the car doors. The soft hum of the engine served as background noise since Tara didn’t have her precious headphones, but she’d spent enough time around loud music for the night anyway, so her ears were begging for a break.

“Did you… have fun?” Sam asked cautiously, as if Tara were a wounded animal that might lash out at any moment. The younger girl sighed, feeling guilty for being the reason behind the hostile distance between them.

She already felt guilty about enough things. Maybe it was time to start lifting some of that weight off her shoulders.

“I guess I did.” She nodded, watching Sam’s surprised expression at her genuine response. The look made her seem younger, reminding Tara that Sam wasn’t that much older than her. Now that she thought about it, she couldn’t remember seeing Sam so carefree since she’d returned, but her anger hadn’t exactly allowed her to notice the little details. “I had a good time.”

“Good,” Sam replied, trying to hide a satisfied smile from tugging at the corner of her lips. In the passenger seat, Tara did the same, feeling a tiny bit of happiness from the small progress they’d made. Small steps were important.

The car fell silent again, but it felt less heavy, and Tara figured it was because Sam was tired and still had to focus on the road for at least another 10 minutes. Taking advantage of the pause, the younger Carpenter pulled her phone out of her jacket pocket, going straight to her gallery and searching for the pictures she had taken earlier.

Most of them were of the sky, capturing the fateful (and now familiar to Tara) constellation of Orion, which made her think of the feeling of your hands on hers. Two others, however, were a bit more personal for her.

She zoomed in on the photo, staring at the profile of your face bathed in moonlight as you smiled brighter than the stars. She had taken the picture in secret, an impulsive urge to capture not just the moment, but you. Tomorrow, she could blame it on the alcohol, but tonight, she would give herself the privilege of gazing at your carefree expression for a few long seconds.

You had probably spent hours talking on the roof, and yet it still didn’t feel like enough. Tara wanted more. She needed more. Even though she’d never considered herself to be possessive or clingy, she couldn’t help but want to explore every little piece of your world as if it were the most beautiful piece of art.

A sudden thought crossed her mind, and Tara quickly opened Instagram, this time taking her time to scroll through and really appreciate each of your paintings. As she studied the pieces you had displayed, she mentally kicked herself for not having done it sooner. It was clear that you drew inspiration from the Renaissance, and that people were your greatest muse. There were few self-portraits, but Tara recognized some of your friends in the works.

She was so captivated that she felt a strong urge to knock on your door and ask you to tell her the story behind each one, just for the pleasure of hearing your voice. But, well, it was 2 AM, and she didn’t even know where you lived.

And, of course, she wasn’t that crazy.

Still, she decided to slide into your DMs, sending you five of the photos you had taken of the sky, taking the opportunity to wish you a good night. Would sending a heart emoji be too much? She decided against it. The photos would be enough.

But Tara still wasn’t satisfied with her exploration, so she ventured into your stories, looking for anything that could give her more reasons to talk to you. It turned out to be a great decision, because she struck gold.

You had posted an announcement from Woodsboro Central Hospital earlier, calling for volunteers for a special event dedicated to bringing joy to children hospitalized with cancer. The flyer said that any help was welcome, from telling stories to dressing up as superheroes, and Tara couldn’t stop wondering what you had signed up to do.

Without wasting any time, she navigated to the hospital’s profile, hoping they were still accepting applications even though she was texting them literally seven hours before the event.

Hi, I’m interested in volunteering! Would you need a photographer?

[supernovafics]

series masterlist | last part — next part

pairing: modern!college!steve harrington x fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k words

warnings: explicit language, nothing else really?

summary: your life goes back to normal— how things were before you knew steve— and it’s fine (or at least that’s what you keep telling yourself)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN | ❝𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆❞

Spring Semester 2017

“This is how villain origin stories are born,” Robin said with a loud sigh as she closed her laptop for the time being. “Apartment hunting. Why does this suck so much?”

“Because everything’s severely out of our price range,” You responded, looking up from your own laptop. “Also, there are barely any three-bedroom options.”

“And the ones that are available and in our budget are very shitty,” Vickie added and you nodded in agreement.

The three of you were sitting on the carpeted floor in your dorm room. Living together for the next school year had been jokingly and playfully talked about in the very early stages of your friendship with Robin, but then as the months passed, it settled into an idea that actually became serious; mainly because of how much sense it made. And then Robin introduced you to Vickie and another friendship, and roommate, was born. 

Eddie was also set as a fourth roommate for a bit, but then he told you that he and Chrissy decided to live together for junior year, so it became settled that it would only be you, Robin, and Vickie. Which sounded great, and you were already excited about it since you hated living alone, but the apartment-hunting part quickly proved to be a lot more of a nuisance than any of you had expected.

“Fuck it, let’s just do a four-bedroom, then,” Robin said, shrugging. “There are a bunch more options for those, anyway. Like, the one I showed you guys yesterday. That place was perfect.”

“Did I miss the moment when our fourth roommate magically appeared?” Vickie asked, a playful smile on her face. 

“We can easily find someone else in one of those, like, Facebook group things.”

“That’s honestly not a bad idea,” You responded, already going to pull up Facebook on your laptop. 

Robin smiled. “Thank you. I always have great ideas.”

Vickie gave her a look. “Do I need to mention the ‘donating blood to get concert ticket money’ idea you had a week ago?” 

“No, that’s okay. We don’t need to discuss that low point.” 

You were the one who showed them Talia’s posting on one of the “searching for roommates” groups. She seemed nice and interesting and both Robin and Vickie thought so too. The three of you put together a quick message— briefly introducing yourselves and that you were looking for a fourth roommate— and sent it.

“Okay, fourth roommate, check,” Robin said once you pressed send. “Now, we have to get the place that I showed you guys yesterday.”

You laughed a little. “Let’s wait until she actually says something, Rob.”  

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Spring Semester 2018

Initially, it felt equivalent to a family meeting. Well, more so what you imagined a family meeting would be like because the four of you never actually had to have one before. 

But then, it actually felt like you were giving some sort of speech or presentation because of the setup. Robin, Vickie, and Talia were on the couch and you were standing in front of the TV and explaining everything to them. 

You kept in most of the details— you and Steve agreeing to fake date, your feelings for Eddie being the reason behind it all, and how it was only meant to go until Spring Break. 

Aside from the fact that they all seemed shocked to learn that you had feelings for Eddie, their collective thought was that the entire relationship between you and Steve had seemed so real.

“We were just really good at faking,” Was your response to Vickie specifically saying how cute you two had looked together; especially during the one reality TV night where Steve came over and picked the show.

You remembered that night pretty well, but you didn’t remember any specific moments where you had felt as if you and he had to “play up” the relationship or lay the PDA on thick since Eddie wasn’t around that night, so you weren’t sure how that moment was considered a definingly cute one for the two of you. 

“Were you good at faking or was it not really fake?” Robin asked, giving you a certain look. 

“Definitely fake,” You didn’t hesitate to answer because you deliberately didn’t want to think about her question too deeply. “We’re not even really friends, and he just went on a date last night. Hence the Eddie punch.”

Eddie was still sleeping in your bed. When you got back from Steve’s place, you weren’t in the mood to wake him up or tell him to shift over and make room for you, so you spent the night on the couch. 

“Damn, it kinda sucks that we’re never gonna see him again. He was the only one that liked when I made the pumpkin cheesecake cookies,” Talia said.

Vickie laughed a bit. “The only reason we don’t like it is because that's clearly a Fall cookie, Tal, and it's Spring right now.” She then looked as if she thought of something. “Hey, but at least you won’t have to get stuck on a team with Eddie for game night anymore. We’re back to individual stuff or you being the referee.”

Talia smiled. “Thank you for reminding me.”

“Wait, that just made me remember something,” Robin started. “Guys, I need you to please hear me out on this one,” She paused for what seemed like dramatic effect. “I think it's time to bring back Monopoly.”

There was a collective groan that immediately filled the air upon hearing her suggestion. Monopoly was a near friendship-ending game for you all, and it was only meant to be played on the rarest of occasions; which actually meant never. 

You sat down on the small loveseat then, glad that the subject had been shifted and that your speech, mixed with a Q&A, was over. “Robin, why do you wanna ruin all of our friendships?”

She quickly shook her head. “Come on, it’s been months. We’re all much more mature and reasonable adults, and I doubt we’ll have any arguments like last time.” 

Before any of you could respond with any sort of rebuttal, your bedroom door opened and out walked a tired looking Eddie. 

“Somehow, I heard the mention of Monopoly and I’m here to immediately veto that suggestion.” 

Robin rolled her eyes at him. “Go back to sleep, Munson.”

The game night conversation continued, and from there, things were normal. And you didn’t mind the normalcy that your life settled back into over the next few days and then weeks— even though, at one point, the thought of it bothered you and you had missed a lot of the things that came along with fake dating Steve. Now you knew there was no point in missing any of it; in fact, it felt kind of dumb to. 

Your classes got more and more intense during the entire month of April, so there wasn’t that much time to think about Steve or wonder what he was up to. However, the moments you did think of him surprisingly hit hard. 

When you all ended up playing Monopoly at game night, after Robin’s many begs and pleads, you thought about Steve and how different things would’ve been if he was there. You imagined him as a pretty competitive Monopoly player, and felt almost certain that he would’ve either had the biggest rivalry with Robin or formed some sort of alliance with her; she was the one that actually ended up winning after an intense and exhausting seven hours of playing that night. You wished that he could’ve been there. 

And then there were the reminders of him that were left around— his t-shirt that you’d never gotten around to giving back to him, his sunglasses that you didn’t realize you’d stolen until you were finally finishing unpacking your stuff from the Mexico trip, and the bear that he got you for Valentine’s Day that you refused to ever get rid of, but you eventually stuffed Hartford away in your closet instead of leaving him on your desk to make things feel easier. 

Anytime one of those moments happened where you randomly thought about him, you immediately reminded yourself of the rule and simply buried yourself further in whatever school assignment you needed to focus on, or made abrupt plans with Eddie, Robin, Vickie, or Talia. 

It was late in the month when Talia wanted to set you up with a guy from one of her classes, who she claimed would be “perfect for you.” Initially, you were hesitant— more so leaning toward no than yes— but he had the Talia stamp of approval, so you let it happen. She gave him your number and there were a handful of text messages shared between you two that led to a museum date a week later. 

It wasn’t terrible. But, your heart wasn’t in it at all, and neither was your head most of the time. And by the end of it, more specifically as you were in the elevator headed back up to your apartment, you realized that you probably wouldn’t see him again. 

When you walked into the apartment, you spotted Talia in the kitchen and the entire apartment smelled amazing; which, of course, didn’t surprise you at all.

“Hey, what are you making?” You asked as you pulled off your jacket and hung it on one of the empty hooks next to the door. 

“I got bored, so I decided to do a quick roasted chicken. It’s in the oven now,” She said, shrugging as if that was entirely normal. It would never not amuse you how her boredom would always spur on elaborate meals. “So, how was the date?”

“It was fine. Good, actually,” You answered after the briefest moment of hesitation. “He was pretty cool and we had a lot in common and stuff. But, I don’t know… It just didn’t feel right, I guess. My head was in a different place a lot of the time. Thinking about other stuff.”

“About Steve?”

Hearing her say that, surprised you. “What? No. I haven’t talked to him in like a month.” 

She gave you a quick shrug. “That doesn’t mean that you can’t think about him.” 

“I guess that’s true, but I haven’t really thought about him,” You said. It was a small lie that you were okay with telling because you didn’t want to admit or even ponder what it meant that you did think about and were so easily reminded of him sometimes. 

“I’m kind of surprised that you two aren’t friends or something,” She told you as she went to grab something from the fridge. “I don’t think I could do a whole fake dating thing with someone and not, at least, be friends with them after it.”

You leaned back against the counter. “We came up with a bunch of rules when we started it, and that was one of them.”

“To not be friends after?”

“Not exactly that, but pretty much, yeah. The rule was to go our separate ways once the fake dating was done,” You shrugged. “Becoming friends was the last thing on both of our minds when we came up with that since we were basically strangers at the beginning of this. And when we were ending things, we both knew that it would be impossible to be friends after because of all of the lies that started this.” 

She looked at you then. “But we all know the truth now, though. So you two could be friends and none of us would question it.” 

Talia’s words made complete sense and they were something that you should’ve realized and thought about a lot earlier than this moment. You were quiet for what felt like forever because you didn’t know what to say in response. Your immediate reaction was to still say no, you couldn’t be friends with him, but if she followed up and asked why, you knew that you wouldn’t have an answer. 

When the oven started beeping, it felt like a very “saved by the bell” kind of moment. Talia pulled out the chicken from the oven and let the conversation shift from there. “You got back from your date just in time, by the way. You wanna try this?” 

“Of course, I’ll never turn down anything you make.”

You went to your room first to change out of your date outfit and put on some pajamas instead and then you joined Talia back in the kitchen. The chicken was quite literally perfect, which didn’t surprise you, and you retreated to your room for the night after you finished eating, while Talia put on a documentary that she had to watch for one of her psychology classes. 

As much as you tried to focus on anything else as you lay in your bed, you inadvertently spent the rest of the night thinking about Steve— it was too hard not to. 

You thought about every moment that you had been reminded of him over the past month— how it hadn’t felt like much at first, but when you thought about it all at once, it was a lot. You also thought about what Talia said and why you and he weren’t friends even though it was pretty obvious that you should be— what else could explain why you both had prolonged and dragged out the conversation in his car the night you two “broke up”? Neither of you had wanted to let the inevitable happen. 

All of this was about more than just following the rule to you. Of course, it was about more than just that. 

Deep down you knew exactly why you couldn’t listen to what Talia said— why you couldn’t text him, go to his place, or do anything else to lean into that short-lived friendship you two had that you actually had a feeling was still there— but right then you refused to admit it. 

Instead, you grabbed your phone and put on a random podcast just so you could use the noise to drown out your thoughts and force yourself to fall asleep.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

It wasn’t until a few days before finals that you thought about Steve again. It was kind of hard not to because you ran right into him— or more so tripped over him. 

The campus library during the week before finals week was probably one of the worst places to be, but you were in a last-second search for a book that you needed to do an essay on and you refused to buy it online because, for some reason, it was way too expensive.

Your eyes were trained solely on the spines of books as you searched for the one in particular when you tripped over something in the middle of the aisle. It wasn’t a full-on fall, just a very awkward stumble, but it somehow felt just as embarrassing. 

You let out an abrupt yelp in the middle of your stumble and heard a voice before you even got to see what caused you to trip. “Oh, fuck, I’m sorry.” 

You recognized Steve’s voice immediately and it sent a surprised jolt through you as you turned to look at him. He was leaned back against the long bookshelf with his legs stretched out and there was a textbook opened in his lap. He must’ve just been sleeping because you saw him rub his eyes and let out a quick yawn.

He looked up at you as he crossed his legs under him instead of having them stretched out in the aisle. He seemed as if he was surprised to see you too, but from the look on his face, you could tell that he saw it as a good surprise; you weren’t sure if you could say the same just yet. “Shit, now I feel worse knowing that I just did that to you.”

That got the smallest smile out of you. “Yes, you should feel a thousand times worse for almost ending my life.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“Why are you sleeping here?” You asked. Both of you were keeping your voices low because you were on one of the quieter floors of the library. 

He shook his head. “I’m not sleeping. I was taking a break from studying for a test and just resting my eyes for a second.” 

“So sleeping?”

“A very brief nap,” He corrected.

“Ah, okay, got it,” You nodded, words coming out completely sarcastic. “Sorry for interrupting your very brief nap then.”

“Sorry for almost killing you.”

“Thank you.”

You knew that you should’ve let the brief conversation end there. You should’ve looked away from him then and continued searching for the book you needed to find. But, you didn’t. 

Instead, after the briefest moment of lingering silence between you two, you sat down across from Steve. The book and the essay that you needed to work on became the farthest things from your mind for the time being.

You didn’t have the strongest grasp on what you were doing right then and why you were doing any of it, but you decided not to question it. Instead, you simply did what felt good in the moment. 

You leaned back against the bookshelf opposite Steve and crossed your legs as well. “Hi.” 

He gave you a questioning look at first— maybe he was also expecting the conversation to end in that previous spot; like it would’ve with any other two people who weren’t really friends that had just randomly bumped into each other. 

But then, he was smiling, a genuine Steve Harrington smile that felt really nice to see. “Hey.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

a/n: ….. i'm sorry for the cliffhanger !!!!

next part!

taglist (lmk if you want to be added or taken off<333); @eddiernunson , @loulouloueh , @the-aster , @blckburd , @totally-bogus-timelady , @yujyujj , @irhdifartzamfyaa , @mochminnie , @munsonssweets , @blckbrrybasket , @xprloki , @definitionwanderlust , @dwcode , @sun-fiower-seed , @keerysfolklore , @damon-loves-pie , @lodeddiperrodrick , @bisexual-and-intellectual , @munsonburn3r , @negomi123 , @khena , @facexthexsunshine , @seatbacksandtraytables , @suckerfordylansstuff

[daydreamerwoah]

Family Tree (Chapter 12)

tw: slight drinking

Simon x Y/n <3

Steamin Jesus... 

That was something Johnny had said a few times you had been around him, and you were definitely saying that while waiting for Simon to pick you up. That morning, you got a little nervous and told him you wanted to take the bus to work because you needed to go somewhere before clocking in. While he tried to convince you, he'd take you wherever you eventually got him to wait and pick you up when you'd go to his place. You had nothing you needed to do... you were just nervous as hell. Facing him after confessing that you liked him the previous night. So nervous that you didn't even want to face him until that evening. 

But now that you were dressed and waiting for him to arrive, you were saying what Johnny always said. It was quite comedic; you pacing around the living room, biting your nails and hyping yourself up. 

Simon: Outside 

Fuck.

You were cursing yourself out as you grabbed your wallet and headed to the door. Taking a deep breath, you opened it and walked outside into the cold night air. There the man was, standing at the passenger door, waiting for you to walk up so he could open it for you. There was no way he would always do that, right? 

"Hey," he said, a hidden smirk under his balaclava. 

A sheepish smile on your lips, "Hey," you responded as he opened the door and you hopped in. 

The 10-minute ride to his place was comfortable, although your heart was thumping in your chest. But so was Simon's. Even though he wanted to see you earlier in the day as usual, he was almost grateful he had to wait until the evening. He was stressing about the food he chose to get for the two of you all morning... even asking Kyle what would he get if it was his first date with Ella.

Was this even a date?

He wanted it to be... but also, he knew pasta on his couch with the TV on was not what he wanted your first date with him to be like. He should have suggested taking you somewhere like a nice restaurant.. not the small loft of his apartment. 

Too late.

He pulled up to the building, and the both of you got out as he led you through the small complex. When he stuck his key in the lock, he felt the need to apologize, "Sorry. M'place is uh.. a bit of a mess. Didn't have time to clean up after work."

"No it's okay," you smiled as he opened the door and let you walk in first. 

It was funny. After taking your shoes and coat off and making your way to the living room, you weren't expecting it to look so... minimal. He said the place was a bit of a mess, but you couldn't find anything where it showed it. The furniture might have been the reason for it. A lone couch sat against the wall, and a TV was mounted on the opposite wall. The coffee table and one side table weren't modern by any means, but it wasn't ancient either. However, that wasn't what caught your attention. The two plates filled with dinner, two candles that were lit, and a bottle of wine placed on the coffee table stood out. 

"Not a five-star restaurant but-" he said as he rubbed the back of his neck as he walked over to the couch.

"It's perfect," you cut him off. His eyes met yours, and you softly smiled, "Thank you for dinner," you complimented as you walked over and took a seat on the couch. 

Thank Kyle, Simon thought to himself. He would buy the sergeant a bottle of his favorite liquor for coming over and setting up everything while he went and picked you up. He even swore to keep it a secret because he knew Ella couldn't hold water to save her life, and it was a special - although small - moment for the both of you to enjoy the surprise. 

The food wasn't homemade by any means, but Simon did buy it from a really good restaurant that made food from scratch. But you didn't care about that. He could have picked up McDonald's for dinner, and you would have been just as happy. It wasn't about how much he spent to impress you, but about wanting to even spend time with you. It was cozy and intimate. 

Simon sat down next to you and opened the bottle, pouring both of you a glass while you started eating. The chicken alfredo was amazing as you took the first bite, humming in appreciation before putting another helping in your mouth. You had been so focused on how good the food was you hadn't even noticed that Simon hadn't taken a single bite yet. You glanced at him, suddenly embarrassed with the food in your mouth. In an attempt to hide the redness on your cheeks, you took a few sips of the wine before glancing at him again.

"Sorry," you nervously giggled. 

A deep - but very low - chuckle rumbled in his chest, "Don't be, sweetheart. Glad you're enjoying it."

You peered down at his plate, "Not hungry?" a curious look in your eyes. 

He was. In fact, he was starving. But eating in front of you felt different this time. It wasn't like he hadn't before, but usually, when he did, he had the comfort of the rest of 141 there. You also tried not to stare at him as he ate. Each time, he'd have to lift his balaclava or mask just to take a bite before lowering it again. Sure, you'd seen it happen a few times before, but you never wanted to make him feel uncomfortable being around someone new. So you kept your eyes to yourself. 

To be honest, you'd never really seen his face except for those dark brown eyes.

You somewhat frowned a little as he glanced at the food and then back to you. An uneasy look formed in his eyes. He seemed... worried. 

"I can turn my back," you offered, changing positions so your back was facing him. 

"Don't have to do that," he said, a tone in his voice you couldn't figure out. 

Not turning around, "It's okay. I want you to eat comfortably," you smiled even though he couldn't see it. 

It was silent for a moment, and you almost peeked around to see if he was staring at the back of your head still until you heard the rustling sound of him picking up the plate and possibly lifting up his balaclava. To help him not feel too awkward with the way you both were eating, you tried to make conversation with him; asking about his day, where did he get the pasta from, and the wine tasting good as well. Even if it was unusual, he seemed to open up a bit, and that's all you wanted; for him to be comfortable around you. 

After you finished eating, you found yourself finally focusing on the living room. Of course, there wasn't anything on the walls, but somehow, the place just seemed like his style; plain. Yet, you liked it nonetheless. 

A soft hand touched your shoulder, and your muscles tensed just slightly, "Can turn around now," he said. 

You did, seeing the balaclava back over his face. Glancing down at the plate in his hand briefly, you smiled, "Knew you were hungry," you teased, making a soft huff leave his lips as he laughed - sort of.

"Enjoy the food?" he asked, making you nod.

"Yes."

"And then wine?" 

You playfully shrugged, "It was good. You know I'm more of a Bourbon girl."

While you would have left the joke there. Simon's eyes lit up as you said that, "Think I have some if you want.

"Yes!" came your immediate response with a huge grin on your face. 

Things seemed to settle more in the small apartment as he poured you and himself a glass of Bourbon. You tried helping him clean off the coffee table, but he made you stay seated as he picked up everything. Once he was done, he sat back down next to you and asked you about the pipes again. 

"Sure y'don't need me to come take a look?" 

You took a sip as you thought over his question, "I don't think you can replace all the pipes," you joked, "But I appreciate it."

"Why...." he paused before continuing, "You said y'needed a second job. Is it the pipes?"

Nodding your head with a small frown on your face, "Yeah. But also my dad-" you took another sip (more like a gulp), "-my dad took out a loan. And because he still had the debt, I now have to pay it. Used all my savings to help get the amount down a little.... so yeah, between that and the pipes, which is probably gonna cost over six grand, I have to get a second job," you sighed.

It was silent for a few seconds before he responded to your explanation, "Sorry you're goin through that sweetheart," he placed his hand on your arm, "Let me at least be there when the plumbers arrive. Can make sure everythin goes smoothly."

You warmly smiled. It was a small gesture from him, but he knew it was going to take more than that to open up and let him in; to let him be there for you.

When he took you home, you didn't think he'd get out of the truck and walk you to the front door, but there he was doing it. He promised he'd come by in the morning when you texted so he would be there before the plumbers.

And then you two just stood there... silently. God, it felt like you were a teenager again coming home after your very first date....

Was this a date?

Simon looked at you, debating on if he wanted to act on what his mind was telling him before he stepped closer to you, "Close your eyes."

For a second, you just looked back at him, eyes wide, before you closed them. Your heart was pounding inside your chest so loud you just knew he would hear it. But all of that became quiet the moment he slowly leaned down and kissed you tenderly on the lips. It was soft; delicate. But fuck did it have the heat rushing down to the pit of your stomach.

Had to be the Bourbon and wine.

When he pulled away, your eyes remained closed. Afraid he might quickly leave if you opened them too fast. His hand reached up and cupped your cheek, running his thumb over the soft skin. 

"You're beautiful," he quietly said. That got your eyes to open, and you found him gazing into yours; the balaclava back on. He looked lost. Utterly lost in your world, and he never wanted to come back down to Earth, "I'm... It's been a while since.. I've been in a relationship," he confessed all too quickly. 

You didn't know what a while meant, but you were grateful for the honesty. The way he said it made you melt as you raised your own hand up and placed it over his, "We can take things slow okay?" He nodded, making you lean more into his touch, "Night Simon."

He leaned in again, this time kissing your forehead through the cloth, making you blush like a crazy person, "Night love."

You unlocked the door and stepped inside, saying bye to him before he walked back to his truck and got in. The both of you were definitely on cloud nine that night. 

Work been kicking my ass this week, but finally got finished with this cute chapter :) What do we think about them finally kissing? lol

Like, comment, give allllll the feedback :)

Taglist: @simp-4-masked-men @dayrin085 @jessicab1991 @kylies-love-letter @kalypsoox @brownlee-22 @firefoxkairan @whatyouseeyoumightnotget @romanceloverrrr @strawberrygato

[murdrdocs]

INTERVIEW 017. LOGAN HOWLETT murdrtober oct 2nd. massages

fed up with your constant complaints, logan offers to give you a massage 1k+ words. MDNI 18+

“Jesus, you’re really tight, you know that?”

You groan, shifting uncomfortably against the table which is an old piece of furniture Logan found in storage. 

Logan doesn’t let you get far, holding you down by your lower back.

“Uh-uh,” he tuts, the warning clear in his voice. “Do you want my help, or not?”

Your response is the way you acquiesce. You stay as pliant as possible, trying to enjoy the feeling of Logan’s big hands, slathered in oil, pressing into your limbs. He’s rough with you, almost completely merciless. There’s a bit of kindness with his actions, mostly in the way he quietly apologizes when he digs into knots in your muscles and you cry out. You can barely hear the apology he utters, but it’s there nonetheless.

He’s losing his patience, though. He can only be so kind when you’re kicking back against him, especially since you asked him to do this.

You might be a mutant, but you still ache like a human. Cracks and creaks in your bones. Fatigued muscles that tense in the middle of the night. You have outwardly complained about one too many charley horses to whoever would listen and you’ve both decided that something had to be done. Well, really, Logan decided something had to be done. Rolling his eyes, telling you that he would gladly help you out if only to put you out of your misery. 

You accepted. Not only because you wanted to feel Logan’s hands on you. 

Logan may be an amateur, but he knows what he’s doing.

“Almost done,” he assures. His fingertips glide up towards your ass, stopping right below the towel draped over your bottom. He trails his touch down and then repeats the path a few times. This moment is so nice that you allow yourself to get distracted.

You relax into the feeling of Logan warming up your muscles under his hands, remaining grateful for this calm before he forces you into an uncomfortable moment once more.

You’re so relaxed that you don’t question his touch. The way his fingers reach towards your inner thigh, the ghost of his digits whispering to your cunt. The hints of his intentions aren’t on your radar until the tip of his finger nudges against your folds. You jolt ever so slightly, nothing but a slight jump in your shoulders, but Logan notices it. 

He apologizes under his breath, and you swear you hear a laugh in there. When you cast a glance at him over your shoulder, uncomfortably craning your neck to throw the look, he looks just as serious as he had been whenever he suggested this. His features hardened, his eyes squinted just a bit, the tip of his tongue resting between his lips. 

You turn your head back and remain still. 

Then starts your assumed delusions. His hands seem to be inching higher and higher, but you’re so sure that this isn’t what Logan intended that you don’t say anything. Not until you feel the tip of one of his fingers slip between your folds, coming into direct contact with the evidence of arousal that you know is there. 

You don’t mean to swear, but you do. You would move, but fear of the towel falling and exposing everything hinders your movements. 

“Logan?” you ask, everything you need to say woven through the call of his name. 

“Just relax, alright? I wanna help you out here, too. Is that okay?”

You don’t even have to consider it. You’re nodding, preparing to lay back down when Logan tells you to roll onto your back. He gets rid of the towel, throwing it off to the side. You don’t have time to feel self-conscious about having everything laid out for Logan, he already has a hand over your knee, gently urging your legs apart, and once they’re spread to his liking, he rests one hand on your inner thigh and the other peels your folds open. 

He strokes you with tenderness you hadn’t felt earlier. His touch exists solely in the tips of his fingers at first, gentle caresses over your clit and the surrounding areas, the delicate parts of his fingers slick with your own arousal instead of the massage oil he’d been using earlier. 

You’re so wound up, experiencing borderline euphoria from just the languid way he’s working you up. But it’s not enough, you need more. You try to communicate this with him, but relaxation has you hexed. 

Nothing but small pants leave your open mouth with moans and whines as their companions. You would rely on your body, but it’s just as useless, your legs spreading and your hips reaching for Logan. Again, he doesn’t let you get far. As soon as you arch off of the table in search of more of him—in whatever capacity he’s willing to give—he’s holding you down with a firm hand. 

He doesn’t say anything. He only glances at you, but that one look is more than enough. 

You’re under his control. He’s doing this to you on purpose, keeping you worked up just enough to be interested, but not enough to come. Not yet.

Logan strokes your walls with two fingers and you clench around him, an involuntary contraction. He coos down at you like he’s calming an animal. 

“Relax,” he urges, his tone softer than it was earlier. “Don’t think too much about it.” You thought you weren’t thinking too much about it, afterall the only thoughts you had in your head were concerning Logan—his hair swooped over his eyebrows, the way his tanned skin shines as if he’s the one lathered in oil, the necklace he has around the thick column of his throat, no longer his dog tags but now a simple chain. 

As soon as his words meet your ears, it’s like a command, and suddenly there isn’t a single thought in your head for real. You’re basically a slab of meat atop the table, under the manipulation of a man that could rightfully control you anyday. 

Now, he controls your body, playing you like a well-tuned instrument, pulling melancholic sounds from your throat until you’re writhing around and clenching around his fingers, expelling fluids that add a different shine to his hands.

[homiesexuallaj]

I would love to see an overprotective Eric (2024 ver.) pls 🙏🏼

Pairing: Eric Draven x reader

Genre/Warnings: overprotective Eric, little bit of fluff, a man kinda flirts with you, unrequited flirting, unwanted touching (but nothing horrible)

A/N: Hi!! I hope you enjoy your request, Anon! For any other readers, my Mr. Draven (both 1994 and 2024) requests are open if you're interested!!

———

Even after his death, Eric still had a liking to go to bars and clubs late a night. It was a nice distraction from life and his, still new, circumstances. It was nice to just drink, dance, and relax. It was especially pleasant when he had his girl with him, you.

You two had actually met at one of the club's you two frequented. After a fun night of dancing and drinking together you two seemed to just click. At the beginning of your relationship, you two met at bars and clubs. The flashing multi-colored lights and yelling to just be heard made you jittery as you flickered you eyes between his flashing eyes and lips, determined to get a view of all of Eric. But as your relationship progressed, you two started taking late light walks and going over to each other's apartments.

It was a little nerve-wracking letting someone in like you did Eric, but it was worth it in the long run.

Eric was kind and sweet. He was very attentive and watchful. He seemed to remember little things you told him in passing, as you often found flowers or a piece of your favorite candy in the oddest places.

You learned of his past, something that he was very nervous to open up about. Of course, you were fine with Eric's past, everyone had skeletons in the closet. His past also explained the randomly appearing gifts and the crow that seemed to hover over you and sit on your windowsills.

The falling of both of your walls seemed to allow you two to grow closer, both emotionally and physically.

As for now, you and Eric were out at one of your more frequented clubs. You'd been up and dancing for awhile and you were tired now. You legs were heavy and your knees ached, just begging you to sit and chill out for a few moments. You asked Eric to go get you guys one of the tables on the outside of the room while you got you two some drinks.

You ordered your drinks at one of the bartops and leaned up against the wood, using this opportunity to stretch your knees. A body joined you on your right, which wasn't uncommon but they were a little close for comfort. You heard them order a drink and then you felt their eyes upon you.

"What are you getting?" The person, a man, spoke.

You only glanced at him, "Just a little something to calm my nerves."

"First date?" The man asked.

"No," You answered.

"Must be a sucky date if you're so nervous," The man concluded for himself.

Before you could respond, the unknown man wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close. He leaned in and you could feel his breath on your ear and the side of your face. His breath stunk of cheap beer.

"You could ditch your date and come home with me," He practically purred, grossing you out.

Before you could shimmy out from under this man's arm, he was suddenly pulled away from you.

"Hey!" The man protested. "I was just talking!!"

"It looked like a little more than talking," Your savior, Eric, retorted.

The man, shorter than your boyfriend, looked Eric up and down. He looked like he was weighing the outcomes of his decisions.

Eric pushed the man away, causing him to stumble and bump into some people behind him.

"Scram," Eric growled. "Before I do a little more than talk."

The man huffed, grumbled something, and then turned tail. He stalked away and disappeared into the crowd after a couple steps.

"You okay?" Eric's stern expression turned soft once he looked at you.

"Yeah, I'm fine," You reassured him.

The bartender brought you your drinks and you grabbed them both, slowly wandering away from the bar. Eric took one, freeing up one of your hands to loop around his arm that was closest to you. He led you to the table that he'd snagged, which was thankfully still free.

"Thank you," You told Eric, giving him a little smooch to his cheek.

"Anytime, sweetheart," Eric leaned into your kiss.

You two sipped on your drinks for the rest of your visit and then decided to call it a night. You slipped through the crowd and into the chilly, night air. Slowly, you two made your way home.

[earlycuntsets]

"Chemical Reaction forms Chemical Romance"

What a year it has been for My Chemical Romance. Only just forming this year and now they are on the verge on releasing their debut album later this month. It seems nothing can go wrong for these guys at the minute so I though I would be apart of the good fortune and ask Gerard a couple of questions and what the key too their success was, this is what he had to say.

Anemic: Hey Gerard, thanks for taking you time to do this interview?

Gerard: You're welcome. Thank you for giving us one. Sorry it took a bit to respond.

Anemic: No problem at all mate, so how are you doing today?

Gerard: We're doing very well thank you. Mostly healthy and almost all of our teeth!

Anemic: Well I must say it's been a rapid rise for you guys to say the least, you only formed at the start of the year and now you have an album coming out next month on Eyeball Records, how are you taking in all in?

Gerard: It's been more than would could have imagined when we started the band. From our first show we've been getting such a nice positive response. Getting signed by Eyeball Records really clinched it and since then we've been on a roll. We're all smiles.

Anemic: So how has it been getting your material out their, I mean you guys must be doing a great live show for people to stand up and take notice of how well you guys are really doing?

Gerard: After recording we were a little rusty as far as performing the material live but after the last weekend of shows we're back to 100%. We try to put on the most honest, energetic, and intense show we possibly can and it has paid off for us so far. It's really like therapy for us to be up there, we would do the same show for 5 or 500 people, the same energy would be there. Getting radio play and having a pressence on the web has helped get the material out there but our biggest push has been word of mouth.

Anemic: With live shows there must be a lot of fans, how would describe you fans?

Gerard: Well it depends. Alot of people that come out to see us have just heard about us so they don't know what to expect. Generally after we start playing alot of people just take a step back, this just happened in Deleware last weekend. I think they may think we're going to hit them but I always try and promise them we won't, we would never do that. We just go crazy up there. The fans that know us are all great, they are always friendly and our first biggest fan, Carlos, is the head of our street team now. The best way to describe our fans would be "diverse". We get all kinds.

Anemic: Who has been the best band you have played along side so far?

Gerard: Pencey Prep, without a doubt.

Anemic: How was it recording the new album, was their a good vibe in the studio were you could go about things the way you wanted them too without having any hassles in the process?

Gerard: The vibe in the studio was excellent. Very positive all the way through. Geoff, Alex, and John were great to work with and brought alot to the table creatively. It was hard to finish because there was a situation where Gerard ended up in the emergency room 5 times and it slowed down recording but we were still able to come under the deadline and make exactly the album we wanted.

Anemic: What should we expect from the new album?

Gerard: Well it's our first album so I would expect to see a band that evolves from the first songs that were written to the last. Expect a very different sound from what is out there right now. Very honest, sincere, aggresive. We make music that we would want to hear and thats why we play it so hard.

Anemic: Once the new record is out and selling to you guys plan to seel it on a global scale i.e maybe in Australia?

Gerard: Eyeball Records just got hooked up with worldwide distrobution, so the album will be available in Australia upon release I believe. We're very excited about that!

Anemic: Who are your musical influences, I guess you would have heaps and heaps but who are the ones that stand out the most for you?

Gerard: Classical guitarists, The Smiths, The Misfits, Queen, At The Gates, Iron Maiden.

Anemic: Before starting the band what did you guys do to occupy you time?

Gerard: Ray is a film maker. Matt is a mechanic. Mikey was in college. Frank was in college as well. Gerard is an artist. Other than that we used to play video games, watch zombie movies, drink beer, hang out, stuff like that.

Anemic: Some rumours I have heard is that you guys like Bats, what's the fascination with them, is it the Will Haven song BATS, or you just like the species?

Gerard: Haha...the whole bat thing came about at an early practice when Mikey joined and we finally gelled. Our energy just came together and a giant heavy metal vortex opened up and out flew a swarm of bats. We all saw it. It was like an awakening. After that we accepted bats into our lives. It was also while we were playing "Vampires Will Never Hurt You" so it probably had alot to do with that.

interview by simon from anemic magazine may 2003

[yeonbinwyd]

Jungwon next plsss

sure!

fever

pairing: soft sub! fem!reader x soft dom!Jungwon

synopsis: You and Jungwon work together in the office. He’s an intern and you’re assigned to train him. You and him get closer than you imagine.

genre (w/tags): smut, minors DNI, mentions of alcohol

Word count: 1,260

“Hi it’s nice to meet you” you greet the new employee. He has a sweet innocent smile.

“It’s nice to meet you too.” He says in return.

“You’ll be training him going forward. His desk will be next to yours so be sure to answer any questions he may have.” Your supervisor instructed. You both agree. You show him the ropes along with any tricks that might help pass the time. Though out the time you were speaking, you couldn’t help up but notice he would stare at you for a long period of time in awe. Like your word was law, he took it very seriously when you told him to be sure not to do something. It was time to be off and the team was going out for drinks but Jungwon wanted a head start on tomorrow’s work.

That happened weeks on end. He was always dedicated to the role and because of your help, his numbers were exceeding his peers. It would bug you how he wouldn’t come out with everyone though. Just to even relax a bit. This Friday, you decided that it was your mission to get this man to relax. It was 5:50 and the whole office was gearing up to go home for the weekend.

“Jungwon! Any plans for this weekend? “ you tap his desk.

“Ahh nothing really. Maybe play some league.” He rubs the back of his head, looking away shyly.

“We should get a drink. I really want to hang out with you outside work.” You try and convince. You had been wearing a lower cut shirt today which gave you some extra attention. You noticed him glancing down your shirt for a second. He looks away again.

“Aah maybe another time” he tries to escape. You grab the arm behind his head.

“Please Jungwon. For me?” You plead. His face turns a bright red.

“Ok I guess one drink won’t hurt.” He caves

“Yes. It’ll just be with me ok?” You reassure. He nods in agreement. Right at 6, you two head to a bar close to the office. He was ready to order a beer but you ask for two shots. It’s too late to stop you. You hand him the tequila shot and a lime.

“Ready?” You asked with a very cheeky smile. He sigh and takes the shot glass from you. You both down the shot and take the lime. After taking the shot, you both make a sour reaction.

“One more?” You ask. He shakes his head. “Maybe just that beer. What do you want?”

“A margarita then.” You request. Jungwon runs up to the bar to grab your drinks. You notice his built frame, standing firm. He dances a bit as he waits for the bartender. He’s always been a little silly whenever you two were together. His sense of humor was charming. As he returning with your drink, you noticed his sharp eyes, making eye contact with you. They pierced your soul. It ignited something within you. He places the drinks down, motioning a cheers. You take the glass, clashing yours against his.

One drink turned into one more and one more. Soon you find that you are stumbling out of the bar. Jungwon, barely faded, helps you make it out of there. He’s worried about you so he takes you home. You both get inside your apartment and you aim for the couch . It was such a beautiful night though, so the balcony was calling your name. Jungwon following close behind you.

“Do you have any water? I’ll get you some.” He runs back into the kitchen and spots some water bottles. He grabs a couple and brings them back to try to replenish you.

“You’re so sweet Jungwon. You gotta be mean sometimes.” You say drunkenly. He chuckles and agrees.

“It’s just easier to be nice” he admits.

“You should try being a bad boy. They’re sexy” you chug the water bottle he gave you.

“Hhhm what else do you think is sexy?” Him curious as to what you could say.

“Guys who are aggressive and assertive turn me on honestly.” You speak mindlessly. His brows jump a bit.

“I can be aggressive.” He pins you along the balcony wall. Those sharp eyes of his take you in.

“Show me then” you demand. He gets caught in the moment, kisses you lightly but in no time his tongue darts into your mouth. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding him close. He drags his hands all over your body, not missing an inch. You can feel him breathing heavy, sweating a bit even. He was still a bit nervous. You move to caress his face while moaning into the kiss. It relaxes him. He mirrors your moans, guiding his hands under your skirt, his fingers moving your panties to one side. He pulls away quickly to give his fingers a lick. He then slips his fingers inside with a strong hold. You, with your jaw dropped, groan in response. Jungwon, with his other hand, gives your ass a squeeze. He continues to finger you and giving you kisses on the neck.

“I love when you moan for me.” He suddenly drops to his knees before you staring up into your eyes. Both hands holding your thighs this time, seated himself in front of your entrance. He spreads them enough to go for a taste. You caress his chin before he goes for your lips.

“Moan really loud for me ok?” He asks. You nod, anticipating his next move. He takes in your clit giving it a lick. You listen and yell in pleasure. Music to his ears, His eyes roll back, continuing on your clit. Impressed with his skill, you push the back of his head in more so you can grind his face.

“Jungwon, don’t stop” you instruct. He takes it all in, humming against it causing you to cry out.

He takes out his length and gives it a stoke while he continues to eat you out. Extremely turned on, he rubs his face in your cunt. Drunk with pleasure yourself, you manage to bring him back to his feet. He takes the hint and turns you around, holding on to the ledge of the balcony. Jungwon aligned his cock at your entrance, fucking you slowly.

“Oh yes that feels so good.” You encourage. He grabs your neck with a light choke, picking up the pace. As your skin collides with his, you both moan so loud your neighbors can hear you. He caresses your breasts now, giving your nipples a pinch. Pulling and twisting them while the back shots keep coming. You’re pushing back to meet his thrusts. He can’t help but feel the pressure of wanting to cum already but he was going to make sure you were satisfied. He bends you over now, clenching your wrists, fucking you harder than before. He exhales, eyes rolling back, fighting hard not to cum.

“You’re so hot. You’re making me crazy”he confessed as he speeds up. He grips your wrists tighter, bruising you but you don’t feel the pain.

“Oh god I’m gonna cum.” You crumble, tightening around him. He gives in a cums with you and whimpers. He lets go but holds your waist so you don’t tumble forward. You both stay silent for a moment to take in what just happened.

“I guess this is a dead give away that I’m into you” he admits

“I had a feeling” you say with a giggle.

[1425fivefive]

5 and 21 kiss prompts - maxoscar please?

Maxoscar hive!! Featuring Max's cats. This is also vaguely NSFW so posting it below the cut to be safe 💕

5. kiss where it hurts & 21. kiss shyly - Maxoscar

Riding in the lift to Max’s apartment, Oscar still can’t quite process what’s happening.

Oscar glances over at Max, who’s leaned casually against the wall of the lift, arms crossed and watching the floor numbers tick by.

Max is good-looking, Oscar realizes, in an unusual way. His face is wide, all strong features that shouldn’t work together. But, as Oscar keeps glancing at him, Oscar finds he’s quite nice to look at. He has quite nice lips, Oscar thinks, plush and pink. Oscar can’t help imagining how good they’d look stretched around his cock, Oscar’s hand fisted in Max’s hair, Max’s watery blue eyes blinking up at him–

The lift jolts to a stop, and Oscar flushes when he realizes he’s half-hard in his jeans. He tries to subtly adjust himself, but he sees a small smirk on Max’s face and knows he’s been caught.

Max leads them down the hall to his apartment, but he pauses right as he’s about to open the door. “You’re not allergic to cats, I hope?”

“No, um, all good,” Oscar stutters, still a bit thrown-off from the lift ride.

Max's lips quirk, clearly picking up on Oscar’s embarrassment over getting turned on in the lift, and Oscar feels wrongfooted again, like Max is always one step ahead.

It hits Oscar, then, exactly what he’s doing. 

He’s gone home with Max Verstappen, who’s probably going to want to fuck him or, at the very least, have Oscar suck him off. Oscar goes a bit lightheaded at the thought, his stomach fluttering with nerves.

But the most confusing part is that Oscar wants it, even though the extent of his sex life for the past year and a half has been coming into his own fist.

Oscar doesn’t have long to think about the implications of what's happening, though, before Max is opening the door and a cat comes flying into the hallway.

“Grab him!” Max yells. 

Oscar jolts into action, reaching down and scooping the cat up. The cat screeches at being picked up and drags a claw down Oscar’s arm, startling a hiss out of Oscar.

“Fuck, Jimmy,” Max groans. He reaches over and pulls the cat out of Oscar’s arms. 

The cat–Jimmy, apparently–immediately starts purring in Max’s arms, nuzzling into Max’s neck. 

Max smiles softly, tilting his head against Jimmy’s, even as he says, “Oscar’s a guest, Jimmy. I want him to like me and you attacking him is not helping that, of course.”

Oscar feels wrongfooted again, hearing Max admit to wanting Oscar to like him.

It’s just–Oscar had thought he understood what this was. Two people with limited options who both want to get off and who both have zero incentive to tell anyone about it. But the way Max had said that, it almost sounded like he wanted something–more.

Oscar immediately dismisses that thought. Prior to tonight, Max has given no indication that he even cared whether Oscar existed. There’s no way Max is interested in anything more than a casual fuck.

But for something that’s just a casual fuck, Max is looking at the scratch on Oscar’s arm with real concern. “I will get you something for that, of course,” Max says.

“No, mate, all good,” Oscar says quickly, even though it stings surprisingly badly.

Max frowns. “No, cat scratches can be quite bad for you. I know it’s small, but–the cats they are always walking through their own shit–”

“Yeah, I get the picture,” Oscar interrupts. “Do you have, like, Germolene or something?”

Max nods. “Yes, of course. Come on.”

Max’s apartment looks exactly like what Oscar would expect.

Even though Oscar knows Max is ridiculously rich, his apartment almost looks like he’s a broke uni student. There’s a half-eaten pizza on the kitchen counter. His sim rig sits right in the living room, empty electronics boxes stacked next to it. Oscar almost slips on a cat toy sitting right in the middle of the hallway.

Max plops Jimmy down on a cat tree, before continuing down the hallway, Oscar trailing after him.

“I thought you had two cats,” Oscar says.

“I do, but Sassy, she’s very shy. She’s probably in a closet, somewhere. She’s quite sweet, though, once she trusts you.”

Oscar tries not to find Max’s obvious affection for his cats endearing. Discovering Max is a devoted cat dad is not helpful to Oscar’s mission of keeping this casual.

Nor, Oscar soon discovers, is Max fussing over his cut.

“Oh, this looks like it hurts,” Max says gently, smoothing a thumb over the raised skin around the scratch.

Max has nice hands, Oscar notices. They’re soft, warm, and Oscar’s skin buzzes where Max’s hand gently cups his arm.

“Not too bad,” Oscar says, trying to hide how much he’s enjoying being touched like this. Softly, carefully. Almost like Max cares about him.

Max hums, and squirts some antibacterial cream onto Oscar’s arm, smoothing it tenderly over the cut.

The cream stings as it sinks into the cut and Oscar sucks in a sharp breath.

Max looks up, eyes soft. “Sorry.”

“Not your fault, mate,” Oscar says roughly, trying not to think about the way Max is looking at him.

“If you are too hurt, we don’t need to do anything tonight,” Max says.

Oscar rolls his eyes, about to protest, before he notices the playful glint in Max’s eye.

"Reckon I'll keep the arm?" Oscar jokes.

Max grins, but then his smile slips slightly, and he looks–nervous.

"Is this-" Max trails off, holding Oscar's gaze while he leans down to press a soft kiss right over Oscar's cut.

Oscar's holding his breath, he can't look away from Max's lips pressed against the tender skin of his arm.

Finally, Max pulls back, and Oscar lets out a shaky breath.

"There," Max breathes. "All better."

[chuubian]

Kinktober week one:

Under the table

Tags Toji x fem reader, semi-public sex, mean and controlling Toji, fingering, unprotected sex (pls be safe), breeding kink, biting, unrealistic sex, MDNI

A/N I started a bit last minute so i cant do many but i dont write smut alot so i hope this is okay 😭😭

Your waitress was so sweet. Too sweet, really. Toji was a force to be reckoned with, not bothering with formalities or even talking like a regular human being. As soon as you were seated in the booth, he slipped right in beside you. You knew the drill. No speaking to waitstaff by yourself. He orders everything for you. As the server walks away, Toji's large hand rests on your knee- squeezing gently.

“Don't make a sound.”

The command shoots through your body and etches itself into your brain. Everything he says and does is permanently branded into your soul. It's like you were made to follow him. Toji’s thick fingers travel up slowly, teasing you, gently playing with the hem of your skirt. But you knew better. He wasn't nice for no reason.

Pushing his hand away shyly, you pull back down your skirt— attempting to keep your dignity.

“Toji… not here…”

You whisper softly, there's no reason people around need to know what's happening. Toji isn't amused. He lets out a low grunt. His fingers dig into the flesh of your inner thigh cruelly.

“Don't argue. Remember your place.”

A breath hitches in your throat and you don't want to fight back any more, but this is wrong. Your hands find their place in the fabric of his black shirt, curling. He chuckles at your reaction, fingers tapping at your inner thigh.

“But-“

He cuts you off.

“I told you to shut up. Are you trying to disobey me? Do I have to punish you?”

You cower under the intense aura radiating off him. Toji takes it as his chance. Firm fingers brush against the thin fabric of your panties— he easily finds your clit, focusing on drawing quick little circles over the sensitive bud. Sparks of pleasure flash behind your eyes, making your body tremble.

“T-toji…”

A large hand slides down your hair and settles on your shoulder, squeezing sternly in warning.

“Quiet.”

Your legs are weak. Thighs quivering, you try to hold back the urge to snap them shut. If you did, Toji would just pry them apart again.

It's embarrassing— having him act so unrestrained in public. He's shameless. What if people see? You could get arrested for this. It's not an empty restaurant by any means, it wouldn't be unthinkable.

A low buzzing sensation covers your entire body, settling over your skin. His touch doesn't let up. Your hips twitch uncontrollably against his fingers. It's like your body is not your own. He's playing you like a fiddle.

Wetness is soaking through your underwear, surely already dripping down onto the seat. It's all too much. Your head is spinning, thoughts turning muddy and nebulous. God. Where were you again?

The next thing you know, a strong arm is wrapping around your waist, dragging you out of your seat, and towards the bathroom.

"Come with me."

A gruff voice cuts through the daze and speaks directly at you. The door barely shuts before Toji is pushing your shirt up over your head. His calloused fingers leave trails of fire across your back and waist— making sure to torment you by nipping at all the sensitive spots hidden throughout your body.

His arms tighten around you. His lips trail up your spine and settle on sucking at the spot behind your ear. His breath brushes over your skin. It's warm. Too warm. Your heart is beating out of your chest and a wave of nausea suddenly hits you. Oh you're gonna get heatstroke for sure.

Toji wastes no time, pulling your panties halfway down, not bothering with stupid things like being gentle or kind.

“Fucking hate these. Why do you even wear them? you don't need them.”

He hikes up your skirt, revealing your bare ass to the freezing cold bathroom air.

“As long as you're with me, you better not wear this shit ever again.”

Goosebumps rise over your arms and legs as Toji runs a finger down your wet cunt. A surprised gasp spills past your lips. Toji takes it as his cue, sinking in a thick finger.

“Fuck…”

An embarrassing squelching sound fills the air. You hide your face in your arms, legs shaking and struggling to hold up.

“Hah… You're so easy to rile up baby. So wet, just for me.”

You can practically hear the sleazy smile plastered on his stupid smug face. The edges of your vision start to blur— your body is refusing to work, focusing only on the way Toji expertly manipulates your anatomy for his own benefit. He knows exactly what he's doing. He's the Devil.

He's greedy. Hardly any time has passed before he's gliding his finger out of your pussy, and tugging the waistband of his sweatpants down eagerly. The fat head of his cock slaps against his solid abs, leaving behind a small dribble of precum on his tummy. His hand— wet with your juices— travels back down to your hip, squeezing roughly.

“Toji..!”

You whine out. He's taking too long. It's not like you were the one who asked for this, it was all his stupid idea anyways and he was still refusing to hurry up. His hand raises up high in the air and comes back down hard before you can process what's happening. Your ass burns— a red hand is definitely going to imprint itself on your skin, branding you as his, even if only for a few minutes.

“Yeah, yeah I get it. Shut up.”

He drags your hips back, pressing his cock against your needy cunt. But he's being so mean. He refuses to push in just yet, content with just grinding himself against you.

“Fuck… what if I just do this huh? Get myself off and leave you all needy and helpless.”

A loud groan rips itself out of your lungs. He can't. He wouldn't. Right?

“Please… Toji…”

A strong grip clutches onto your hair, pulling at the threads harshly. You cry out loudly, your scalp pulses and aches.

“Shut up. I won't say it again.”

With that, he plunges his thick cock in mercilessly— stretching you open. No prep and minimal foreplay doesn't seem to be something that bothers Toji as he buries himself inside as deeply as he can. you swear you can feel him in your stomach.

“Ughn… So tight… Fuck.”

He grunts into your ear and nuzzles at your throat, pulling at you until your back is pressed against his strong, still-clothed chest. You're thankful for it. Your legs would not have lasted much longer.

Slowly, he drags his hips back until only the tip is left inside. You choke out a needy whine. Weakly, you attempt to smack his arm— to get him moving. But he refuses to. Instead, he tightens his grip around you and laughs.

“Hurry.”

You barely get the full word out before he's slamming back in. It burns so good. You choke out a mewl, eyes fluttering shut. Your entire lower half aches, and your back feels like it's going to rip itself apart. The only thing holding you together is Toji.

“Agh… you're gonna be the death of me.”

No time is wasted before he starts thrusting inside you violently. His hips ram into the soft flesh of your ass, and his cock is carving out a spot for itself— causing delicious friction against your gummy walls. You're stretched beyond belief. Even after so many times you still can't get used to it.

“O-oh god…”

His hold on you tightens.

“That's not my name.”

Rocking your hips back against him, Toji groans loudly in your ear. The drag of skin on skin is heavenly. Echoing in the empty bathroom is the sound of pleasure— of pure bliss. The blunt head of his cock hits your cervix, creating ripples of indescribable pleasure through you. You can't think or speak. Everything comes out in incoherent babbles.

“Nghh… T-toji… h-hahh.. mmm..”

He doesn't slow down, if anything it encourages him more.

“That's it, just let go. Don't think.”

Nothing else matters at this point. Not the people waiting outside, who have probably all heard your cries of ecstasy. And certainly not the eventual soreness that will come with letting Toji use you. You can feel your brain turning off, your thoughts becoming a distant haze. Tojis dick is literally making you dumb.

Drool drips out of your lips and down your chin in thick dollops. You don't bother cleaning it. Your pussy pulsates around Tojis cock, trying to squeeze everything out of him. It's practically sucking him in. His thrusts get more desperate— slamming in harder and faster.

“Take it. I'm gonna breed you. Get you pregnant.”

Those words only made you want him more. You’re sure your ass is a deep red, almost purple color by now— abused by Toji's unintentionally violent expression of affection.

“Please… g-give it to me..”

With one last push, he buries himself in as deep as he can, biting at the junction between your neck and shoulder. Your pussy squeezes around him as you’re sent careening into your orgasm. Your hands grab onto anything they can, nails digging into his skin hard— it's sure to leave crescent shaped indents. Hot ropes of cum spill into you, filling you just like Toji wants.

When you finally regain the ability to think again, you shakily get up. Your legs can hardly hold up and you're a sweaty disheveled mess. A shiver runs up your spine as you feel his cum dripping down your thigh. Toji snorts. How is this funny to him?

"This is your fault, you know? You should be helping me, not watching."

You turn to glare at him. He holds his hands up in defeat.

"I know I know, it's just funny seeing you like this."

Strong hands help hold you up— gently cleaning you up and getting you dressed again. Your clothes feel dirty now. There's nothing visible on them, but they were on the floor just a few minutes ago. Toji's fingers gently rub against your lower stomach as he leads you out of the bathroom again. He doesn't bother going back to the table, or paying for the drinks you ordered, instead leading you out of the restaurant and back home.

[littlemissmasokitten]

Soon To Be A Peaceful Night

Pairing: Christian Yu x Fem!Reader

Genre: Comfort, Fluff.

Synopsis: Y/n and Christian have been together for some months but always kept the relationship far from risky. On a casual date night back at y/n's, a storm begins to brew and the couple's faced with spending the night.

Content: Y/n has a bad history with relationships before Christian, some anxiety responses, comfort character, sweet and slow fluff. Extra Notes: Very loosely based on Christian and not my strongest interpretation of him but figured I'd still share this piece anyway.

Networks: @othersideoutlawsnetwork

Thursday.

Not usually a day known for being too special. Too far from the weekend than anyone would want to be but the closest day anyone's getting to the freedom that comes from a Friday night.

For you though, Thursdays aren't so bad after all.

At the beginning of the year, you could have sworn on your life you'd never date again but here you were, setting the table and getting the house tidied up nicely, like clock work. The time had flown by and to think you'd already moved on and come into a new relationship so soon. The last 3 months together had flown by and in its own ways, it was nice.

It wasn't extremely early he'd ever visit but never too late in the afternoon either so you'd always make a bit of coffee for the two of you, should you ever both need it. You look over your now cleaned well-enough abode, it's not as great as you'd like it to be but what would you expect from only cleaning up the one day a week he comes over? Well enough is good enough, he's coming over for you after all, not the floorboards themselves.

In the living room, you patted down the cushions of your just-spacious-enough couch. You thought back fondly on the first few dates he'd come by and you'd watch shows together a safe enough distance apart but a distance well respected. You could tell there was something special the day the back of his hand brushed against the back of yours and for the first time, you didn't pull away. With a racing heart and a cautious finger, you outstretched yours to fit between two of his own. You gauged his reactions skeptically, only reading the most pleasant of smiles and the kindest of eyes as his hand fell to the side beneath yours. Something in the way your fingers laced together but so loosely, you had all the space to pull away. He seemed kind enough.

You returned to the dining table, a vase of slowly wilting flowers decorating the center. You'd playfully joked back then that roses would be too cliche and should anyone ever bring you flowers, a bunch of irises would be unique enough. Sometimes he listened a little too well really. Nothing would have been wrong with roses but looking at the vase and all the different hues of purple before you brought a light hearted smile to your face.

You pulled out a chair, taking a seat for the first time since you'd gotten up so early to clean. You almost instinctively tilted it toward the chair beside you he's come to be a regular in. It was maybe your second or third dinner date together in those spots. Joking and laughing about anything and everything without a care in the world. That is, up until you'd laughed a little too hard into the hot cocoa and got a bit of whipped cream on your nose. His hand raised for a moment then halted, but before you'd notice, he'd already had his hand on his mug, touching either cheek to the whipped cream. A relief clear as day washed over your senses and strangely enough, you found yourself with a napkin in your hand, thumbing off the mess on his cheek. It all happened so naturally.

A knock on the door pulls you from your memories. For some reason, you'd never gotten comfortable with coming face to face with anyone in the doorway. "Come in!" you'd shouted and the door knob jiggled and turned. Every time he walked through, a ping of anxiety came through but the look in his eyes washed it all away every time. You muster together an all too telling smile "I missed you". A casual tone with the same amount of distance he was all too used to but loved about you anyway. "I missed you too, darling" he says, shutting the door behind him.

Same routine as any other Thursday. He takes off his hat and rests it upside down on a counter nearby. You get up out of your chair as he empties the contents of his pockets into his hat to hug him from behind. "I think I missed you more though~".

You'd play those funny little "I missed you more" "I love you more" games in past relationships not ever meaning more than filler before but these days, each word sank heavily in your chest. With him, you'd really meant it. You held your hands together in front of him, giving him an extra squeeze to which he responded to by placing one hand over the both of yours, his thumb rubbing lightly against the side of your hand. By comparison, his hands were so big but also the most delicate hands you'd ever known. "Well I know I missed you more~" he says. And this time you let him win.

You release your grasp on him and let him finish his routine. "Have you been enjoying work, my love?~" you take a peek at his expression, noting it carefully but it's a consistent, reliable expression that plays on his face. "I have quite a bit honestly. Been working up a new project which, as always, I'll tell you more about once we put it all to paper. Is that all you'd really like to ask about though?~" he says teasingly.

The little bit of mischief catches you off-guard but it always has and he's always meant well by it so it was fine enough. "Well, I guess if you'd insist, then I'd like to know if I look okay for you today". You pull awkwardly at the midsection of your dress, as if it were an effort to model it more for him. "Hardly a question, dear" he responds "you look more and more beautiful with every day". You roll your eyes in response. You wish he'd give you a more honest answer but the look in his eyes never faulter when he says it, you wonder sometimes if he really does mean every word of it.

"Coffee?" you ask. "Yes please".

His footsteps trail along the house and you always listen cautiously to each and every one of them. You feel you can trust him enough but your guard hardly ever comes fully down. When you hear the familiar rustle of pillows as he sinks into the couch, you're met with a usual sense of relief. You walk both coffee mugs over and set them on the little tables on either side of the couch. For a moment you stand there, looking at him blankly. He extends an arm out to the side "Would you like to come snuggle, dear?" and somehow, he nails it every single time. You climb your way into the couch, angling yourself into his embrace with your head on his shoulder.

On days like this, you both set up the tv with a bit of background music and talk a while, catching up on all you both have been up to while you play with his fingers. You stay wrapped up together like that for an hour or so before one of you suggests it might be a good time to start thinking of food. "Oh! I almost forgot, I can get something ready real q-" he pats your head softly "There's no rush, darling. Is there anything you'd have in mind?". "Well, I've still got fresh potatoes and chicken, maybe we could do something with that?" you look into his reaction again, a satisfied smile on his lips "Then let's get started".

You clean up the mugs, noticing he's stayed good on his apparent 2 sip limit. Maybe one day you'll be comfortable enough to share a mug together.

A pot of boiled water, a pan, and a few peeled potatoes later, a basic meal of lemon garlic chicken and mashed potatoes is all prepped and ready for the both of you. He's always a really good cook somehow, it's a miracle he has time to do so well in so many areas of life, even down to caring well for you. It made you curious but skeptical. The skepticism should have drawn you away but it wasn't even an hour later, with both your stomachs full, you laid sideways on the couch, your head comfortably in his lap and your legs dangling off the arm rest. You'd giggle happily as he teased and cared for you. You both had never been so close before and for once, you almost felt like a normal girl again.

The lights flicker, quickly sending a fear back in you, belting up from his lap and looking around. He instinctively pulls you back against his chest. A few last flickers and the power is out entirely. In the darkness of the night, the rustling and crackling of tree branches swatting at the walls and one another can be heard. A heavy down pour of rain echoes through the rough, almost such a consistent white noise, it almost makes sense how you wouldn't have noticed over the music from the tv and the laughter shared between the two of you.

You don't know when it had started but you next noticed he'd been patting your head ever so softly, comforting you through your worries. The feeling of his big arms softly encompassing you felt beyond Heavenly. Somehow, despite everything you'd believed might have once been ruined for you, it sets your heart at ease. The first thing it seems he really doesn't come to notice on his own is the way it makes you relax into his chest. "Goodness, I'm not looking forward to going back out into this weath-" "You can stay!" you cut his line of thought off, and the silence between you two feels louder than ever.

Your brain scrambles to throw anything together "if you uh... because it could be unsafe out there and if you don't have anything to do tomorrow even though I'm sure you're a busy man and I don't expect you to have to rely on me to stay but- and you haven't seen my bed before but IT REALLY IS COMFORTABLE ENOUGH FOR TWO PEOP-" your line of thought is cut off by his hand tracing down your arm, finding the perfect nook beneath your fingers to take hold and squeeze your hand, placing a gentle kiss on your head.

"Only if you'd be okay with me staying, love. Take your time to think on it and hey, whatever you choose, your comfort comes first in my eyes".

It was undeniable that as much as you'd urged him to stay, the words ate away at you at the same rate you'd have spoken. Torn between a sense of duty or guilt and an anxious pit in your stomach screaming for you to stay away. In the midst of the darkness, you meant to clench your fits but squeezed on tight to his hand. You loosened your grip, intent to pull away but as your fingertips dragged across his open palm, unwilling to let go, you held your hand in his once again.

"I entrust myself to you!" you said a little too firmly. His chest rumbled with a stifled laughter "Love, it's just for sleeping, let's go get your room in order then". You quickly agreed, before a quick realization "HEY! How'd you know my room was a mess!" you exclaim. "Darling, the same dishes have sat in the dishwasher the same way the last few weeks. But, if you'd like to insist your room is well kept despite that, I'm fully ready to believe you".

"... I can get my clothes off the floor..."

He pets your head affectionately once again "That's my girl".

You both make due with cleaning in the dark, phone lights illuminating the way as you bestow the gift of dirty laundry into the closet for future you. At the same time, you hear the bed creak as his weight settles in, seated on the edge of a now well made bed. "It's cozy here, you know? From what I can see, it feels very much you." His sincerity is met with only the snarky response of "What? A thorough mess inside and out?" He chuckles at your response a moment before taking a breath. "It's somewhat new to me and yet, it's has a familiar sense of comfort that draws me in". Such a simple response, somewhere deep down, you have a sense he really might get you.

"Yeah yeah, well it's only for tonight so don't get too cozy" you joke, as you both climb into the shared bed, uncertain if you really would only like it to be one night. "Understood" he says a bit too easily, laying on his back and allowing you your space of distance.

Any other moment, that space would be appreciated. But tonight, your heart almost aches from the distance.

"I see how it is. You'll snuggle up to me on the couch only to act like you don't know me anymore once we share a bed~" You say playfully. "Darling, if I hold onto you tonight, it will be for the entire night~" he jokes back. You smile to yourself. "I'm not so sure about that...~" "Only one way to find out" he remarks.

With that, you lean into his embrace. He pulls you close to his chest and you make yourself comfortable tucking your head under his chin. The odd chill in the house caused by the rain conflicted with the perfect warmth of his body and the softness of his skin the way his arms wrapped around you. The scent on his body so faint but mesmerizingly cozy. You nuzzled closer, trying to take in the scent a bit clearer but your exhaustion of an emotional rollercoaster of a day getting the best of you. Your breath slows as you begin to fall asleep, delicately in his arms.

One last gentle kiss on the head and the hushed whispers of words are all you manage to take in before falling into a peaceful rest.

"Sweet dreams, my love. I've got you."

[jinnie-ret]

MY YOUTH | SKZ NINTH AU

stray kids x ninth member!reader (platonic)

<---------- back to my youth

<---------- back to main masterlist

chapter 6

genre: angst content warnings: bullying word count: 1.6k

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Lou began to feel like the trajectory of her life in this universe was heading down a path of one sick joke after the other. She had been holed up in her personal studio ever since the incident in which her childhood toy she was so attached to had been torn to bits. Lee Know had tried to comfort her but she was so overwhelmed that she had to leave the dorms. It left her with an odd feeling, one that didn’t quite sit right as she knew that she wouldn’t be feeling this way in her home world, but the longing that ached within her wasn’t an unfamiliar sensation. Her friends and family that had been left behind, seemingly nonexistent here. Seemingly, because Lou knew she couldn’t exactly go up to the boys and ask them about random people they would have never heard her bring up before. Or, on the other hand, she couldn’t ask about her ‘family members’ because she should know them more than anyone right?

The girl had become so absorbed into her thoughts that she had failed to notice the new object that had made itself home on her cluttered desk, an old floral notebook with a tattered leather binding at the spine. Until. the pages started flickering before her very eyes. The visual distraction was welcome, despite the unease and immense confusion that it caused. Dusty yellowed paper flickered until it came to a stop, landing on one page in particular. Ah, here it was, the next sick joke making itself known.

Marigolds.

These were the flowers she got yesterday. Lou gripped the book in her hands in disbelief, eyes scanning over the description of the plant, one that was presented in a time of grief. Surely not? Perhaps she had imagined the unnatural nature of the book. She could have subconsciously turned to that page. Yes, that must have been it. Lou was slowly convincing herself that there was no way that there could be a magic book in her grasp, even when she had been transported into a completely different universe. It didn’t matter for now, not when the three girls she wanted to see least had suddenly stormed into her studio, making her jump back into her chair and turn, hand on her heart.

Mina, Sora and Jiah, the younger girl of course hiding behind the older two who had dragged her along. In all honesty, Lou didn’t know why they were all still friends when it was clear there was a disconnect in beliefs - the beliefs being on tormenting her or not.

“Here, thought we’d be nice and give this back,” Mina plastered on a fake smile and proceeded to throw Lou’s notebook at her, hitting her against the head. Sora snorted from beside her at the disgruntled look on Lou’s face. The poor girl already had a heavy weight of thoughts and feelings to deal with, her neck hunched as she slumped over, pinching the bridge of her nose as she huffed.

“What? Not gonna say anything? I don't know why we even bother doing this if you’re not going to even react,” Sora kicked Lou’s foot to grab her attention.

“Pathetic,” Mina’s eyes scanned Lou, before nudging Jiah.

“Oh, y-yeah,” she looked up briefly before ducking her head down straight away.

“You bought me marigolds,” Lou blurted out, unable to get the thought out of her head, “why?”

“Marigolds?” Sora snorted, looking at her accomplices with incredulity, “you think I care about what type of flowers we sent you? Give me a break.”

“They were on discount,” Jiah added unhelpfully, yet it still led the other bullies further on their hateful discourse.

“Cheap, nasty stuff. All you deserve,” Mina grinned evilly, before practically snarling as she spat at Lou’s shoes.

“We did you a favour, really, tearing apart that ugly toy,” Sora sighed, inspecting her nails as if she was bored. Lou hoped that they would get bored one day. She was tired of their antics, the amount of times they dropped in to insult her before she performed Miroh for the first time was nearly more than she could count on her fingers.

“So you didn’t know what type of flowers they were?” Lou pushed away their comments, wanting to get to the bottom of this weird situation, her eyes boring into the gazes of the girls in front of her.

“Oh don’t tell me we’ve got a nerd here!” Sora rested her hand on Mina’s shoulder, leaning against her slightly as they both chuckled.

“We already told you we don’t care about that, idiot. Aren’t you more upset about your ickle lickle stuffed animal?” the latter pouted mockingly, bending over slightly and leaning forwards to squeeze Lou’s cheek, the pinch being a bit too hard.

“Get out!” Lou pushed her away, standing up with frustration, stray hairs flying in front of her eyes yet she still maintained her steely gaze.

“Woah! No need to get all angry,” Mina laughed loudly, enjoying the reaction she finally got.

“My members are still here, wouldn’t want them to see you acting like this, would you?” Lou instinctively bit back, not really knowing if her statement would affect the actions of the other girls but it fortunately did.

“We should go,” Jiah nervously looked behind her, tugging at the sleeves of Sora and Mina to get them to follow her. It was probably one of the only times they listened to the younger girl.

Lou was happy to breathe for a second with the disappearance of the trainees. She gathered her things together, her old notebook which she had finally gotten back, and the new mysterious flower journal that only seemed to bring her trouble and more stress. So the girls supposedly didn’t buy the marigolds on purpose, yet there was a connection to the real life events with how the book itself acted sentient for a short moment to show her what they truly meant. This was going to nag at her brain for a while, that was for sure.

By the time she shook it off, made the short nighttime walk back home to the dorms, Lou had checked her phone as she entered through the front door and saw the time on her watch. 03:25AM. How was it that time already? She didn’t even realise how the time had flown by.

“I’m sure she’ll be okay. I’m sure of it,” she heard Felix speak up from somewhere in the lounge. She took off her coat and shoes, only to see Bang Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin and Seungmin putting on their own jackets.

“Where are you going?” Lou quietly spoke up, her members so caught up in their own bubble they didn’t hear her get back.

“To look for you! Have you seen the time? Why didn’t you reply to our texts?” Bang Chan rubbed a stressed hand over his face before ruffling his own hair.

“Texts?” Lou had to pause for a moment, left hand patting against the pockets of her sweatpants and hoodies but she couldn’t find anything. Where was her phone? “Oh, I don’t know…”

“I tried calling as well. You just ran away. I was worried, we all were, Sunny,” Lee Know stood up from the sofa to get a better look at her, in case he could spot anything alarming.

“Is your phone off?” Seungmin looked at her knowingly, unzipping his windbreaker.

“Yeah, I was at the studio,” Lou shrugged. Maybe that’s why she had no idea where her phone was. She’d have to look into it, just something else to add to the mountains of issues she had to deal with.

“Told you she’d be there!” Han rolled his eyes, legs tucking into himself as he tiredly leant against the arm of the sofa. It was then she noticed how tired everyone looked, all because of her. Felix was sat upright, Jeongin next to him and although he was more reclined, their legs still touched for that extra bit of comfort. Changbin and Hyunjin were following in Seungmin’s footsteps, taking off their coats too, yet still standing attentively alongside Bang Chan.

“Now’s not the time,” Changbin tapped Han on the head through his hushed words.

“I’m sorry, I’m back now though. Can we just talk about this tomorrow?” Lou urged, not wanting a grilling from her members, her leader in particular, before she felt that fuzzy feeling she still hadn’t gotten used to. A flash blinded her vision before she was entered into a glimpse of a vision.

“Please, Hannie, can we just talk about it tomorrow? I don’t want to talk about it now,” Lou begged a younger version of her member.

“Flo, I’m worried about you. You need to tell me what’s happening, please. Something is wrong,” Han pleaded, his hand reaching out towards her before the vision was gone.

“Yah, Flo? Louisa?” Chan snapped his fingers in front of her face.

“You should get some sleep,” Hyunjin added when he saw Lou wasn’t off in her own world.

“Something is wrong,” Han whispered to Seungmin who nodded but rested his hand on his shoulder to show now wasn’t the time.

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow,” Lee Know almost sternly told Lou. She thought he had a right to feel that way, she had run out on him after all.

She quickly took herself off to her room, knowing where she was going this time. It wasn’t long before her head hit the pillow and she fell asleep, entering a dreamland - one she had not visited before.

<-- previous chapter next chapter -->

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tagged: @akitfffr @aeinzzzketchup @mirelys98 @itsjustkhaos @linoalwaysknows @royal-shinigami @jolly04 @turtledove824 @yangbbokari @thisrandomgoofy15 @lieslab @hannamoon143 @arumlilyeclipse

[aquaticmercy]

Beautiful Mess

Summary : Bucky tries to cook you a food you’ve been craving. It goes wrong, but it also goes right.

Paring : Bucky Barnes x Reader (she/her) 

Warnings : food, mild cursing? and lots and lots of fluff! 

Requested by : anon 

Word count : 1.5k

Note : It’s my first fic in 4 years and boy I forgot how good it felt writing for fun. Thank you to the anon who requested this! (I said it would be >1k word blurb but I got over the limit and I hope you don’t mind!) Enjoy!

Requests are open!

“Shut up,” Bucky grumbled, aggressively poking at the smoke alarm with the end of his rifle case. He stretched on his toes, metal arm whirring as he tried to reach the obnoxiously tall ceiling. 

‘Oh this is wonderful,’ you had been giddy with joy when the two of you viewed this apartment, ‘I love the high ceilings, don't you, Buck?’

He had chuckled and agreed that day. For all he cared, the ceiling could be as high as the atmosphere allowed if it meant it made you happy. But now he was thinking maybe your next place should have, at the very least, a reachable ceiling on his tip toes. 

The shrill beeping had been going on for what felt like an eternity. Bucky Barnes has never been known for his patience, and now it was wearing dangerously thin.

Clearly, he hadn't thought any of his actions through. The rifle case was too flimsy, and it bent under the pressure of each jab. If the alarm didn’t stop soon, it wouldn’t just be his sanity at stake— the neighbours would probably come knocking on the door asking if they needed to evacuate.

"Great idea, Barnes. Brilliant," he muttered to himself, throwing a desperate scan around the room. His eyes landed on the bo staff you kept in the corner— a weapon from your training collection. 

“Perfect,” he said to himself, practically lunging for it. Surely, you wouldn’t mind him using it just this once. It was just a stick, right?

Grabbing the staff, he reached up again, tapping the alarm with its tip. His strength— which usually worked in his favour— became his single greatest enemy. With a loud snap, the white disk detached completely, wires dangling from the ceiling as the alarm finally went silent. A part of him took in the quiet bliss for a moment before realising the repercussions. He’d have to contact the building super, then pay the fees, and since he’s off for a mission in a couple of days, he had unintentionally given you a bit more life admin work around the house.

He cursed under his breath, staring at the detached alarm hanging limply in his hand.

He tossed it into the kitchen trash bin, as if hiding it there might make the problem disappear.  For a moment Bucky just stood there, staring at the mess around him, trying to make sense of how things had spiraled out of control.

He ran a hand through his brown thick locks, ones you had asked him to grow out again. He sighed. How did it go so wrong?

All he wanted was to do something nice for you. Just one thing. You’d been so good to him— so patient, especially after he'd returned from weeks of missions worn down and, admittedly, a bit grumpy. You greeted him with nothing but warmth, even though you were probably as tired as he was.

And then there was the food. Bucky still wasn’t sure why he'd been craving bland, 1940s-era meals, the kind no modern person could possibly enjoy, but you indulged him anyway. When he’d mentioned how much he missed a particular meatloaf recipe, you made it for him. He could tell from the look on your face that you were struggling not to spit every bite out, but you powered through for his sake. And when he’d told you about his mom’s molasses cookies, you had taken the time to bake a jar that tasted just like the ones from his childhood.

It was perfect. You were perfect.

So why couldn’t he get this right?

You'd been talking about focaccia earlier this week, your eyes lit up in childlike wonder as you told him about how you used to experiment with different toppings. He’d taken a mental note of that moment, thinking he could surprise you by making some himself.

He glanced around the kitchen. Flour dusted on nearly every surface, olive oil splattered on the counter, and a sad, burnt dough resting on the baking tray. 

Bucky sighed, leaning back against the counter, staring at the mess with a mixture of frustration and helplessness.

You’d probably laugh at this, he thought as a self-deprecating smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He could already hear your teasing voice, reminding him that not everything had to be perfect.

But still, he wanted to get it right. 

He glanced at the clock. You’d be home soon. He had maybe thirty minutes to try and salvage this— or at least clean up the evidence before you walked through the door. 

Priorities, he thought.

He cracked his knuckles, pouring the excess dough to a new baking tray. He thanked whatever gods still existed that he had accidentally made way too much dough. Not even waiting for it to rise, he shoved it in the oven and reshaped it into something that didn’t look like a science experiment gone wrong.

“Okay,” he pressed a palm to his forehead as if that would magically clear his mind. “Focus.”

He realised the oven was too hot, and that was probably why it burnt. 

Very smart, Barnes, he thought to himself, about time you used basic logic.

As he fumbled with the oven dials, he heard the familiar sound of your keys jingling at the front door. His heart sank. Shit. She’s home early.

Frantically, Bucky darted toward the flour-covered countertops, grabbing a towel to wipe down the mess. But there was no saving kitchen wreck—not in under thirty seconds, anyway. 

You stepped through the door, humming softly to yourself as you dropped your heavy bag with a thud. You stretched your shoulders, straining a little from the weight. Tossing the keys to the side, you noticed how uncharacteristically quiet it is in your home.

As you moved deeper into the apartment, you saw why.

It was your boyfriend, standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen, holding a flour and oil-coated dish towel like a deer caught in headlights.

The corners of your mouth lifted. “What on earth?”

“I can explain,” a red plum blush coloured his cheeks, raising his hands in defense. You raised an eyebrow, stepping closer to the crime scene.

“Wait…” your eyes widened, “are you trying to make focaccia?” 

“Yeah,” he admitted sheepishly. “I thought I could surprise you with it, since you’d been talking about how much you love it. But, uh…” He motioned to the oven. “It’s not exactly turning out the way I planned.”

You let out a soft laugh, one that melted Bucky's heart, that made his chest thrum with joy. You took the towel from his hand, squirming then dropping it when you touched the part of the fabric that was very sticky with congealed liquid, clearly a mix of olive oil and flour. “I can see that,” you teased, quickly wiping your hand as you bent down to be eye-level with the dough. “What is this? An attempt at modern art?”

Bucky groaned, covering his face with his hands. You looked around the room, seeing your bo staff on the floor, and his (hopefully unloaded) rifle by the dishwasher. “Did you shoot it?” you joked.

“No.”

“Did you hit it with my stick?”

“It’s a disaster,” he complained, exasperated.

You took a deep breath and then giggled, your shoulders shaking as you leaned against his shoulder for support.

“I tried, okay?” he grumbled, part mortified, part relieved, and fully, thoroughly, embarrassed. Still, he could feel his heart flutter as he watched you laugh.

You cupped his cheeks affectionately. “I can’t believe you went through all this trouble just to make me bread.”

He shrugged, his expression softening as he looked down at you. “I just wanted to do something nice for you. You’ve been so good to me. I thought I could, I don’t know… return the favor.”

Your heart melted at his words. You didn't care about the focaccia, or the mess in the kitchen. It was about the fact that Bucky had gone out of his way to try and do something sweet for you— even if it clearly went south.

“Bucky,” you said softly, standing on your toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “I love that you tried.”

He sighed in relief, wrapping his strong arms around you, pulling you into his warm chest. “I just didn’t want to screw it up.”

“You didn’t,” you reassured, resting your head against his shoulder. “I didn’t even know you knew what focaccia was,” you teased.

He chuckled, burying his face in your hair. “I’m still not sure I do.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him “Tell you what, I’ll make you an offer. I’ll show you how to make focaccia, and we’ll order takeout in the meantime.”

Bucky’s smile widened, as he peppered kisses on your face, overwhelming you with as much love as he could possibly give, “That sounds perfect.”

You threw him a clean kitchen towel once you were able to escape his affectionate attack, not that you wanted to. “Now help me clean up, Buck.”

He grabbed the towel and started in the corner as you started chucking empty olive oil bottles into the trash bin.

Wait, trash bin-

“What the hell is the fire alarm doing in the trash, Barnes?” 

Bucky froze, turning to you with wide eyes. “I can explain.”

You tried to suppress a laughter, piecing together the clues, “Did you break it?”

He raised his hands in defense. “It was beeping, and I didn’t mean to rip it out of the ceiling…”

“You tried to kill it with my staff, didn’t you?”

“Maybe.”

You smiled. Oh, what a beautiful mess you had found yourself in.

-end

[punks-never-die205]

How would they feel about YOU praising them ☺️ during sexy time? What kind of things would they really get off to you saying? Here’s a few examples below,

“You fuck me so good”

“I’m all yours”

“You’re so big”

Kid would love it, he'd keep egging you on to praise him more, but at the same time he'd be rushing you toward your orgasm. Sure he loves the praise, but the best praise he receives is when you can't do anything but babble and begs because you're blissed out.

Killer loves it, he'll turn it back around on you too. It's only cause you're so easy to fuck, that he fucks you so good. Of course you're all his, he's all yours. Big as he is, you take him so well, and he'll show you just how much he loves that about you.

Heat might fall apart under such praise, but he'll manage to keep it together. You'll get to see his face and ears go pink and he'll be giving you room to praise him more if you want. Call him a good boy and have him cumming for you so nicely - he'll just melt. He'll be sure to bring you with him though.

Wire will, at best, grunt, and say of course you think so well of him. He loves it, he really does, even if you're not going to get him to show it in the ways the others do. He'll praise you a bit in return, probably peppering in some degradation too, but you can be sure you'll cum harder than you have in a while, and that might be the only way you realize he really enjoyed the praise.

[thir10th]

Seeing her clearly - October writing challenge day 3

summary: you had no idea Emily wore glasses, she had never mentioned it before. tw: none, just fluff, a bit suggestive at the end a/n: here’s day 3!! I hope you guys love this one as much as i do, and please interact with it if you do! 💘

It's not the most common thing. Not what you would expect of a couple that has only been together for a couple of weeks, but Emily and you are different.

Even before you started dating, Emily and you were always so close, and you had visited her apartment before, which made you no stranger to the house. The living room was ample and the kitchen isle was enough that you mostly ate there, except for the nights you'd spend on her couch.

So only after a couple of weeks of dating, the familiarity was simple, it came naturally, and you walked through that house like it was your own.

You had woken up, said hello to Sergio and gave him breakfast, then made coffee, and grabbed the paper. Hadn't this one been a work day, you would've taken the time to make some nice breakfast for your still passed out girlfriend, but for now you are fine with some toast.

Sitting on the kitchen isle, you open the paper to do the crossword, you'd like to have something to talk to Spencer about that isn't in Russian.

"Hey love, do i smell coffee?"your girlfriend's raspy and sleepy voice startles you.

"You do, your mug's over there" you say, without taking your sight off the paper. Emily bends to give you a good morning kiss on the cheek, her hair sprawls over your face, you turn around on your seat and grab the collar of her shirt pulling her to kiss her lips. Emily hums on the kiss, and then walks over to get her coffee.

You're still focused on the crossword when she takes the seat next to you and sips on her coffee.

"hey, Em do you think you could help me out with 6 down?" you ask, showing her the paper.

"um- too early to focus, hold on" she sits up, and opens a drawer.

Like it's nothing, she sits down and puts on a pair of reading glasses. You can't believe your eyes.

“Wait… hold on a second.” you stare at her in shock, wide-eyed

Emily glances up, looking a little confused “What?”

“I didn’t know you wore glasses.” you reply in utter shock, grinning like an idiot.

She blushes slightly, adjusting them nervously “Yeah, only for reading. They’re not a big deal.”

"How come you read files all the time at work and i had never seen them?" you still can't get over this.

"I don't need them that much, just the paper's letters are so tiny..." She shifts in her seat awkwardly “I try not to wear them too much. They make me feel like I look… older.”

You stare in disbelief, leaning forward “Older? Emily, are you kidding me? You look amazing in them.”

“Yeah, right. I’ve always thought they just aged me. Not exactly the look I was going for.” she chuckles, clearly embarassed.

You shake your head, still staring at her like you’ve just discovered the eighth wonder of the world “No, seriously. I mean, I already thought you were gorgeous, but this? You look so… I don’t know, smart, and—” your voice drops slightly “... ridiculously attractive.”

She blushes harder, trying to hide a smile “Oh God, don’t make a thing out of it. I just need them to read, nothing special.”

Playfully tilting your head, you are clearly loving how flustered she is “No, this is definitely a thing now.” you reach out and gently take her hand “You’re seriously making it hard for me to concentrate on the crossword right now.”

“Well, I’m glad someone likes them.” She laughs softly, still looking a little shy.

Softly, squeezing her hand, you get up from your seat and walk to her, lowering down you sit on her lap, and she welcomes you grabbing your thighs with one hand to hold you in place, the other one still on yours “I more than like them. I love them. And I love you in them.” you kiss her hand sweetly.

“So, just so you know… if you wear them more often, I won’t complain.” leaning closer, your voice teasing.

She shuffles behind you, trying to make you and herself comfortable on top of you “I’ll keep that in mind. But you’re not seriously freaking out over a pair of glasses, right?” smirking, her confidence returning a little.

You grin, leaning even closer “Oh, I am definitely freaking out.” you kiss her cheek, your voice soft “In the best way.”

She smiles, her eyes twinkling behind the glasses “Well, if it gets this kind of reaction from you, maybe I’ll have to wear them more often after all.”

You raise an eyebrow playfully, running a hand up her arm. “You really should,” you whisper, brushing your lips against her ear. “In fact, I think we still have some time before I have to leave for work...”

Emily raises her head slightly, lips curving into a teasing smile. “Oh, do we now?” Her voice is low, and you can feel her shifting under you.

“Yeah,” you murmur, leaning in just enough to kiss the corner of her mouth, then whisper “and the glasses stay on.”

Emily lets out a surprised laugh, her hand tightening its grip on your thighs as she pulls you even closer. “Oh really?” Her tone is playful but laced with a bit of intrigue. “The glasses stay on, huh?”

You nod, your gaze intense. “Absolutely.”

Without another word, Emily grabs your hips firmly, and before you know it, she’s lifting you up with ease and placing you on top of the kitchen table. The cool surface contrasts with the warmth of her hands as she presses herself between your legs.

“You sure you’ve got time for this?” she asks, her voice thick with amusement as she leans in, brushing her lips against yours, just enough to make you crave more. Her glasses frame her face perfectly, making her look both sophisticated and irresistibly sexy.

“Trust me,” you whisper breathlessly, “I’ll make time.”

Emily smirks, clearly enjoying the effect she’s having on you. She cups your face with one hand, while the other slides around your waist, pulling you into her as she finally closes the distance, kissing you deeply. The kiss is slow but intense, her lips moving against yours like she’s savoring every second.

Your fingers immediately find their way into her hair, tugging gently as the kiss deepens. You can feel her smile against your lips before she pulls back just slightly, her breath mingling with yours. “You really like the glasses that much, huh?”

You nod, barely able to catch your breath. “I love them... and I love you.” Your hands slide down to the collar of her shirt, tugging her back in for another kiss.

Emily chuckles softly against your lips, her hands roaming your sides as she presses you further into the table. “Good, because they’re staying on,” she teases before capturing your lips again, and all thoughts of work vanish as you melt into her.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───