#maybe when i go back to college it’ll be different but maybe not because school has a history of draining my life force

[courageisneverforgotten]

oh ! maybe i shouldn’t compare myself to strangers on instagram 😃😃

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.2 terms and conditions

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 2/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 4.5k

a/n. if you see any typos, no you don't.

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

“And yeah, that’s basically what I’ll ask from him in return,” you say through a mouthful of your cereal in the morning after summarizing the conversation you had with your school’s star soccer player on Instagram last night.

Mina scrolled through the messages as she took another bite of her apple and gave you a questioning look as she set your phone down. “I’m still shocked at the fact that Gojo Satoru, the Gojo Satoru, sent you a message. Also, why does he want to help his horny friend this badly?”

“I don’t know. But will you do it?” You ask her with pleading eyes. “Just one weekend, that’s all it seems like he’s asking for. And then I’ll get what I want from him. You just have to pretend to be interested in his friend for a little bit.”

Mina leans back on the bar stool at the little raised counter in the kitchen. You liked it because it was a little bar space that opened up to the living room, being partially the reason why you convinced her to sign this lease with you. She swallowed before speaking. “I mean, the only reason I didn’t really like his friend that much was because he kept asking me out to a house party instead of an actual date.”

“Yeah, I know, I figured,” you say.

“Also, an 8AM English class is the absolute worst time to hit on someone.” She smiles at you. “But his friend isn’t bad looking. Not exactly my type, maybe a bit too beefy and masculine for me? I don’t know.” She pauses to take another bite of her apple, this time talking through her chewing. “I would say Gojo is more my type.”

He’s probably everyone’s type, you think to yourself. 

“Anyways, yeah, I’ll do it,” she easily agrees. 

“You will?” You gleam at her, your hands clapping together in happiness.

“Yeah, I will. If you think it’ll help you get what you want from him, then I’ll do it,” she smiles at you.

You run over to her, arms curling around her from behind as you say thank you, thank you, thank you and she pats at your forearm for you to ease up on your excessive gratefulness. 

-------

The weekend rolls around surprisingly fast and the hour that the party’s doors open is steadily approaching. Mina just came home from her work shift and was in the bathroom taking a shower while you sifted through your closet to figure out what to wear. You couldn’t believe you were actually going to an SAE house party. You’ve been to other college parties before, mostly in your first year, but never a fraternity’s, let alone the biggest one on your college campus. Was there some sort of waiting list? Some sort of etiquette that you didn’t know of? Your stomach flips at the prospect.

Your hands pull out a simple black dress that was tucked all the way to the right of your closet. It was a tiny bit wrinkled but it would do. Slipping on the dress, you turned to glance at yourself in the mirror. It had long, skin tight sleeves with a sweetheart neckline and the hem fell to the middle of your thighs, the material soft and silky. You suddenly felt a bit self conscious and ended up taking it off in favor of some ripped blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt instead.

Mina opened the door of the bathroom and stepped into your shared room, wrapped in a towel with her hair clipped up on her head. “Cute fit,” she compliments you as she also makes her way to her closet. “Ugh, I just want to go to bed. Why am I doing this again?”

“Because you love me,” you say.

“Yes, that’s why,” she sighs. She puts on a purple body-con dress that had beautiful sparkles on it, probably more fitting for the club than a house party, but who knows, maybe that ends up being the vibe of the place. 

You both sit on the floor in front of the mirror to do makeup, you finishing first since you wore a little less than her, and you help her draw the wings of her eyeliner. This sort of ritual was always the best before you went out with friends. The getting ready part was almost more fun than the actual going out part. 

A small fight took place between the two of you in terms of who would be designated driver, and Mina finally relents to allowing you to drive. You argued with her that she was doing you a favor, and that if Mina decides she needed some drinks during the night to take the edge off of having to talk to this Gojo Satoru friend, then she should be allowed to do that. Mina grabbed her purse and you grabbed your cross-body fanny pack as well as keys, and you were headed out the door.

As you drove down the street approaching the address, you both noticed a lot of the houses looked very similar with decorative sports flags, gaudy front-lawn decorations, and outside furniture. This was most likely the fraternity house strip of SAE where most of the guys lived and hosted parties. There were living places on campus for the members too, but those were usually for the people that organized the fraternity’s events. Loud approaching bass-boosted music filled the air and it suddenly became challenging navigating through all of the parked cars on the street as the GPS informed you that you were less than 500 feet from your location on the left. You luckily found a spot to park at the cul de sac a little further ahead and then you two were making your way to the house.

“4100, right?” Mina called after you as she shuffled a bit in her heels to catch up, arms crossing over her chest to warm herself up in the cold. You slowed down a bit for her.

“Yeah, this one I guess,” you point up ahead where you spot a group of people approaching the entrance where a guy seemed to be collecting payments. You notice him turn some people away from the door, confirming that there was some sort of screening process for entry, and you’re suddenly a bit anxious.

“Alright, y’all are good to go inside,” the guy at the door chirps to what’s left of the group that lined up before you two. He makes eye contact with you and Mina, straightening himself up a bit. “Ladies! Looking very gorgeous. I like the sort of casual tomboy with the bombshell friend pairing. Can’t say I’ve seen you two around here. Ever been to an SAE party before?”

“Nah, first time,” Mina says as she shivers from the cold.

“Aight, cool, you’ll definitely enjoy it. Ladies enter for free, so go on ahead,” he says, comically gesturing towards the door with both of his arms before he crosses them again and puffs out his chest. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. He has a little name tag that says Itadori Yuuji on it, which you’re almost certain no one even asked him to wear.

As you two make your way inside, you’re instantly reminded of why you hated places like this. Loud music reverberates throughout the entire room as people bustle around everywhere, some people dancing, some people standing, some people walking over to other areas, and a lot of people shamelessly making out. There was a lot more lighting than you were expecting, that sort of warm and dull suburban house lighting that reminds you of your childhood for some reason, but there were flashing lights across the ceiling that gave it more of a party feel. The house was two stories, and the staircase was visible from the entrance, leading up to a hallway at the top with a railing that oversaw the downstairs expanse before stretching out further into unseen territory where you assumed the bedrooms were. Your eyes instantly began scanning the room for any familiar faces, or for one Gojo Satoru. 

“Damn, just the smell of the alcohol alone has me about ready to throw up,” Mina says next to you as she takes a few steps further into the house. You follow behind her as she makes her way into what looks like the kitchen where there’s less people other than those refilling their drinks. She’s quick to pour some vodka into a plastic red solo cup before nonchalantly opening the fridge and pouring some orange juice into it as well. She glances up at you. “Don’t judge me.” You stifle a laugh. 

“Oh shit, sorry man,” a masculine voice behind you says and when you turn around, you’re face to face with quite possibly the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life. 

In all his glory, Gojo Satoru was standing in front of you. Just as the prophecy foretold, he was tall, at least an entire head above you, and irritatingly gorgeous. He was wearing gray sweatpants, untied drawstrings loosely hanging, with a black short-sleeved shirt that was tight around his biceps and lazily tucked into his waistband just at the front. He was holding two drinks in his hands, one clearly with some spillage as droplets fell from the base of it onto the tile of the kitchen, and his piercing blue eyes behind his tacky HO-HO party glasses widened at the sight of you. The guy behind him, who you assumed was the one he was apologizing to just a second ago, gave him a solid slap on the back and muttered a you’re good, dude before turning the corner back into the core of the party, leaving the three of you alone in the kitchen. 

You heard Mina cough a little behind you and you watched as Gojo’s eyes quickly darted to her.

“No way,” you hear Gojo mutter under his breath as he walks past you and makes his way around the kitchen island, setting the drinks in his hand down on the counter. “You’re Mina, right? I’m Gojo Satoru,” he says as if not everyone on campus knows who he is, and sticks his hand out for her to shake and she hesitantly shakes it. “Thanks for coming.” 

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Mina said, shooting you a glance. 

He then turns around and makes his way to you again, hand outstretched for you to shake, and you hesitantly do so as well. You immediately notice how the tips of his fingers feel calloused. “Hey, I’m Gojo Satoru. You’re y/n, right?” 

You nodded, for some reason unable to find your voice, and he peers over the ‘O’s on his glasses to look at you. His eyes were like the sparkling ocean under the sun, a tantalizing shade that sailors probably yearned for during long nights out at sea before they went overboard, chasing after sirens, and eventually drowning. Yikes, that got dark for some reason. But there was something dark about his eyes, too. “Yeah.”

He leans down closer to you, his mouth near your ear, and the fragrance of freshly-washed laundry consumes you. “Thanks, I owe you one. Find me later, ‘kay?” he whispers and you can feel his breath on your neck. The movement has your cheeks embarrassingly burning before he’s pulling away from you. He turns to Mina again. “You’ve met my friend Todo, right? He’s about sixty ounces deep into an insane round of beer pong, you wanna watch?” Gojo asks her with a weirdly wholesome smile on his face.

“How charming…” Mina says as she reluctantly walks over to him, giving you a darting look, and then he’s leading her out into the living room. You stand there in the kitchen, leaning against the island, finally noticing how fast your heart was beating. 

I mean, you knew he would be handsome. You saw all his Instagram pictures, and all the school advertising for the soccer team with his face all over it plastered practically around every corner on campus, but this was your first time seeing him in person and you hated how breathtaking he was. Like, how can people just casually be in his presence? You figured the only way was that they eventually get used to the way he just commands a room when he walks in. You wonder if you’ll ever feel relaxed in his vicinity. Part of you wishes you didn’t fight Mina so hard to be designated driver because now you were itching for a drink to calm your nerves. 

As a group of girls make their way into the kitchen, giggling about something some guy had said to one of them, you suddenly feel a little alone and make your way out into the living room as well. Your hands play with the strap of the fanny pack slung across your chest and just people-watch for a bit. Spotting the game of beer pong over in the corner, you see Mina watching with a bored expression and you let out a small laugh. The man at the end of the table had a ping pong ball in his hand, and you immediately identified him as this Todo guy. Mina’s description was pretty spot on, definitely beefy and masculine, and he was the only one in that corner that had his shirt off for some reason.

He aimed for the opposing side’s remaining two cups of beer, the ball looking comically tiny in his large hand, and when he threw it the ball landed right in one of the cups. A look of excitement flashed across his face before a bunch of the guys started smacking his chest, yelling something like “has to be a bounce shot, dude” and he suddenly looked agitated all over again. A small smile makes its way on Mina’s face and you’re surprised to see it. 

Standing next to her was Gojo, tall and his presence imposing, as he silently watched the rowdy game with his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants and back leaned against the wall. There was a curious expression on his face and you tilted your head to the side, enjoying the moment to just study him for a little bit. 

“I like your fanny pack,” you hear a voice say from behind you that has you twirling around. You look up and find yourself staring at yet another handsome man. This one had dark black hair that was tied up into a man bun with some short tendrils of hair falling onto one side of his forehead.

“Oh, thanks,” you say awkwardly.

“Where are my manners? I’m Geto Suguru, nice to meet you,” he says as he stretches the hand that was not occupied by his drink out to you. 

You shook his hand, noticing calluses on his fingers too. “Nice to meet you, too. I’m y/n. What’s with everyone here and shaking hands? I feel like I’m at a job interview.”

The man in front of you chuckles. “You’re funny,” he says. “Haven’t seen you around here. Which sorority are you in?”

“Oh, uh, I’m not in one. I live with my friend Mina about 20 minutes from campus,” you awkwardly say.

A slightly surprised expression flashes across his face as he nods slowly and you can see it in his face that he’s searching his brain for a follow-up question when someone behind him taps his shoulder.

“Hey, Suguru, do you know what time practice is tomorrow? Itadori-kun swears it’s at three, but I have a meeting at that time, so if that’s true then I’m in some trouble,” the guy behind Geto says. Sigh. Once again handsome. He was tall, had broad shoulders, and cleanly styled blonde hair with a sharp jaw that made him look like he just stepped out of a James Bond movie.

“Pretty sure it’s at six. I’d check with Satoru, though,” he jutted his chin over in the direction of the beer pong table. “Oh, this is y/n by the way. She’s not in a sorority, but she lives 10 minutes away from campus.” Geto steps to the side a little and the blonde stranger steps into his space.

“20 minutes,” you correct him and this time, you’re the one to stretch your hand out. The man in front of you shakes it, and once again you notice calluses. This must have to do with soccer, then. His handshake was firm, short, and intentional, and you could tell he was probably studying a respectable major. 

“I’m Nanami Kento, but just call me Kento,” he says in a smooth voice. “Excuse me,” he says and he’s making his way past you over to the beer pong table. 

Geto’s glance falls on you again, but suddenly feeling awkward you excuse yourself from him to go use the restroom. You haven’t had this much social interaction in a long time and you needed to get away from the noise for a second. As you make your way past the kitchen into a narrow hallway, you realize you have no idea where the restroom is. One of the door handles has a sock on it, gross, so you ignore it all together. You finally reach a door that could potentially be a restroom, and you’re overjoyed that you don’t hear any voices inside when you knock on it. You allow yourself inside and close the door behind you. 

The bathroom was surprisingly well-kept from what you expect of a frat house. There’s about three different toothbrushes in a round plastic tin on the counter of the sink, but you’re sure that there’s more than three guys that live here so there must be another bathroom upstairs too. Glancing at your reflection, you notice that some of your mascara has smudged a little so you use your finger to wipe the excess off and then you reapply a thin layer of lip balm over your lips. You contemplate actually taking a piss, but you realize you don’t really need to. With a few deep breaths, you’re out into the hallway and almost make it back into the kitchen before bumping into a certain white-haired man at the kitchen entrance.

“Oh, hey, fancy seeing you here again,” Gojo says with a grin and your eye twitches slightly. He was still wearing those HO-HO glasses (Christmas was literally over two months ago) and this time there were some sort of black painted lines underneath both of his eyes. He was extremely hot but definitely somewhat unserious about his appearance.  

Gojo glances down at your empty hands and tips his head to the side a little. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Uhh, water?” You offer.

He lets out a laugh, his hand flying to his stomach, and you realize he thinks you're joking. When your expression doesn’t budge, his smile drops. “Seriously?”

“I’m DD for Mina,” you say as you walk around him and make it into the kitchen where you find a pitcher of water. Your heart still races a bit at the sight of Gojo, but you enjoy the peace and quiet that the kitchen provides you away from the party around the corner. 

“So, y/n,” you hear Gojo say behind you. You’re not quite used to hearing your name casually roll off his tongue. He’s suddenly at your side, leaning back against the edge of the island and crossing his arms as he looks down at you to watch you pour your water. It takes everything in you to not glance over at how nice the muscles of his arms probably look across his chest. “What exactly are those terms and conditions you spoke of?”

Your face flushes slightly. You remind yourself that this is the man that you were Instagram DMing at two in the morning earlier this week. It feels weird, considering at the time he seemed more like a made-up character in your mind but now that you’ve actually met him, you realize that he is indeed a living, breathing, real person. When you take a sip of your water, you realize just how parched you really are. 

“Okay, hold on a sec, there’s no way you’re just drinking water all night long. There’s some non-alcoholic punch in the other room. Be right back,” he says and he’s gone from your side. You miss the heat from his body. 

He returns shortly after with a cup of punch in his hands and slides it to you across the counter. You grip onto it and stare into the deep red liquid. 

“Okay, so,” he says as he leans back against the counter again, this time a bit closer so his arm was brushing against your shoulder. Your skin burns at the contact. “Your terms and conditions?”

You found it a bit odd that he was so adamant to satisfy these conditions of yours, considering he already won. You had successfully brought Mina to the party, and it seemed like she was getting along with his friend Todo. It shouldn’t really matter what you wanted from him anymore. You suppose that maybe he was just a man of his word. 

You sigh, remaining facing the counter of the island as you glance at all the types of alcoholic bottles and cans laid out on it. “Well, my request is pretty simple.”

“Hmm,” you hear him hum inquisitively beside you.

You finally turn to face him and you instinctively put a hand over your heart as though to reprimand it to stop beating so fast in his presence. He notices the movement. “I want you to get me onto the soccer field at a few of your practices or games so I can take film photos of the players.” 

Gojo takes his HO-HO glasses off and sets them down on the counter, a serious expression on his face. You notice how nice his eyelashes are. 

“Your terms and conditions are…that you want me to help you take photos of a bunch of sweaty dudes?” he asks. “You’re kinda freaky.”

You roll your eyes and send him an annoyed look. “They’re not for me, they’re for one of my class assignments. I’m taking this film photography class, and my professor is obsessed with the school’s soccer team. Pretty much all of his lectures start with goal-by-goal breakdowns of your guys’ most recent game. If I submit some stellar-looking film photos of the action on the field, he’d give me a good grade and a good letter of recommendation.” You notice Gojo tense up slightly in front of you. “I’m trying to get into this one graduate program.” 

You watch his chest rise and fall with a deep breath as he turns his head to look away from you and instead look straight ahead at the fridge. Long lashes flutter against the top of his cheeks every time he blinks. His arms that were crossed at his chest rise a little as he shrugs. “Yeah, I guess I can do that for you.”

You can’t control the smile that spreads across your face when he acquiesces. This was a really good opportunity for you. You pick up the punch that he gave you and almost bring it to your lips when he speaks again, interrupting the motion.

“Your pictures are pretty good, by the way,” he says, still staring straight forward at the fridge.

Your mouth gapes slightly. “How have you seen my photos?”

He looks down at you, an eyebrow raised. “I follow you on Instagram, dummy. Also, you never followed me back.”

You’re standing there a little stunned at the conversation. He speaks to you so casually as if you haven’t just met him tonight. “Sorry, I only really follow back my friends…”

“Are we not friends?” It’s your turn to let out a laugh, thinking he’s joking, only to realize he’s not.

“I’ve literally just met you…speaking of, I should probably pour my own drink,” you say as you slide the punch back onto the counter top over to him and turn away to head in the direction he had gone to retrieve it for you. You hear him mutter an ouch from behind you at the implied accusation you just made but you remind yourself that this man is essentially a stranger to you, and the only things you know about him are things you’ve heard from other strangers. 

You spot Mina still by the beer pong table, this time heavily invested in the game and she even flirtatiously blows on Todo’s ping pong ball for good luck before he chucks it at the opposing teams’ cups, entirely missing, but Mina reaches up to place a kiss on his cheek regardless. Your jaw drops at the sight. She was going to be answering a lot of your questions in the morning. 

You find the punch table, pour yourself some, and realize that it was indeed non-alcoholic and pretty damn good. Mina finally makes eye contact with you from across the room and she leaves the table to make her way to you.

“Y/n! OMG, I was lookin’ for you, girl!” She sounded a bit tipsy. “What time is it? I totally forgot I have a stupid discussion post thingy due at midnight.”

You pull your phone out of your fanny pack and read the time that says 11:12PM. It was still a bit early to leave a party, but you supposed it was up to Mina. “It’s 11:12PM. There’s no traffic so it would probably just take us around 10-15 minutes to get home. You wanna leave?”

She sighs and turns around to look at Todo, who was giving her a sleazy look and mouthing what’s wrong, babe? Mina shakes her head at him pitifully and then turns her head back to you with sulking shoulders. “Yeah…stupid professor making those posts 25% of our entire grade…”

You laughed and made sure she grabbed her purse before you two headed towards the exit. You bumped into Geto again on your way out and gave him a polite goodbye and then you two were out of the door, loud party noises getting further and further as you made it to the car. Mina trailed a bit behind you but eventually made it over to the passenger side door. You unlocked the car and she made it inside, but before you do the same, your phone pings with a notification from Instagram.

|| 11:16PM Gojo Satoru: I’ll let you know our practice and game schedule for the next week. Just let me know what times you’re interested in stopping by

A small twinge of excitement fills your chest and you’re suddenly feeling some sort of high as you slide into the driver’s seat of the car. Mina’s mumbling something like turn on the heateeerrr beside you, and you put the car in drive then take the two of you home.

a/n. apologies for any formatting errors since i'm copy/pastin from my ao3! i've tried to manually fix them all but i'm too lazy to read the whole thing to fix it lol. hope you enjoyed!

➸ take me to chapter three!

[miley1442111]

Rafe Cameron loves you and is worried you don’t love him back. You are Sarah’s friend and had already told her that you loved Rafe, but didn’t know if he loved you back. You’re a Pogue.

this request was so fun to do, thank you for requesting !!!

only time will tell- r.cameron

a/n: i didn't imagine a fem! or male! reader so imagine what you want :)

summary: rafe still has time to win you over after his terrible behaviour, right?

pairing: rafecameron x reader

warnings: mentions of alcohol and drinking, mentions of drugs and dealing drugs, general angst

A part of you hated Rafe Cameron. His shitty attitude, his party-boy persona, his terrible habit of bottling up his emotions, then running straight to you to beg for forgiveness. And you, being you, always let him back in. The other part of you was in love with him. His beautiful smile, unseen kindness, and softness reserved only for you. 

“He’s an asshole!” Sarah groaned. “How are you ‘in love’ with him?”

“I don’t know! It’s just different when it’s us two. And then he runs off and he’s a dick again,” you sighed, frustrated with your own feelings. “I think I need to actually break it off clean, it’s not healthy for either of us anymore.”

“Woah,” Sarah and Wheezie mumbled at the same time.

“You think you can do it?” Sarah asked.

“I have to. It’s not like it’ll hurt him, he doesn’t love me.”

“You don’t know that-” Wheezie tried, but your mind was made up. You were sick of being used by him.

“Oh, and you do? He looks at me like I’m something to be had, not something to love.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You really thought that he didn’t love you? He paced his bedroom, torturing himself with what he had heard from your conversation with his sisters. He knew he wasn’t a good boyfriend, he knew it upset you when he dealt and drank too much, he knew you didn’t want to be a ‘perfect Kook wife’ like Rose. You had plans to go to the mainland for college, maybe never come back to the Outer Banks. He knew your relationship wasn’t helping either of you, that he was a terrible boyfriend, that he used you, but he also knew he couldn’t breathe without you. He knew he couldn’t live a happy life without you beside him. Yes, he was young, but his mind was well beyond his years. He needed you. He’d always need you. 

At least one good thing had come out of that conversation. He found out you love him. He’d spent recent months of your relationship coming to terms with the fact that he was stupidly and grossly in love with you. Something he didn’t think would ever be reciprocated. But here you were, confessing to his sisters that you loved him. He thought back to the first time he saw you, walking with Kie at school. You were one of those pogues that got a scholarship to the private school. You were shy but kind to those you knew, and those you didn’t. He was the year above you, graduating, but you didn’t question when his history teacher asked you to tutor him. You were so patient with him, even when he was late, or just flat-out didn’t show up. Even when he’d show up high out of his mind or drunk you’d make sure he got home safe and sat with him on the porch of Tannyhill as he came down.  

Your kind heart was his, and he was sick of missing dates and treating you as a disposable person, because you weren't. You were the love of his life. He wanted to make this right.

He heard your footsteps outside his bedroom door, and he quickly opened the door and pulled you inside by your waist. He practically glued his lips to your own as you let out a yelp of surprise. 

“Baby-” you tried to talk but he stopped you, his lips forceful and unwavering. He pulled away softly, hands on your waist to keep you in front of him. 

“Y/n, I love you. I’m in love with you. I love everything about you. I know I’m a shitty boyfriend, you don’t need to tell me that,” he was tearing up. “But please, I need you. I feel like I can’t breathe when you're not around. I don’t want to be anywhere you’re not. It’s fucking crazy. I feel fucking crazy half the time but I know one thing, and it’s that you’re the only person I know I want to see everyday- no fuck that, every fucking second, for the rest of my life. I adore you, and I’m so sorry that I let you believe I didn’t. I’m done with all of it. No more drinking, no more drugs, just you and me.”

You stood there in shock, a single tear falling from your eye. “Rafe-”

“I’m so sorry-”

You cut him off by kissing him, then pulling away. “I’ll believe that when I see it. This is the last chance I’m giving you Rafe Cameron. One more.”

“I’ll make it worth it.”

“You better,” you smiled, then kissed him again. You were hopeful that he would truly stop his shitty behaviour, but only time could tell.  

[afictionaladventure16]

A Little Unsteady (Tim Bradford x Foster!Teen!Reader)

Pt. 2

The Rookie Masterlist

Word Count: 4,162

Warnings: Mentions Sexual assault and abuse.

Authors Note: Requests for this fic and The rookie are open!

You woke up to the sound of birds chirping, and your heart leaped into your throat. 

“Oh no,” you jolted out of bed and quickly got dressed. “Fuuuck!” you muttered as you rushed to put your shoes on. Somehow the bed was too comfortable and you slept through both alarms, meaning you now only had five minutes to get to school. Five minutes to do your twenty-minute walk, which is now probably longer since you are further away. 

You ran out of the room and ran into the living room, “Whoa! Good morning to you too! Where are you going in such a rush?” Tim asked as he placed his coffee mug on the kitchen counter before walking over to you. Kojo quickly got up from his spot on his bed and began following you. 

“I’m going to be late for school!” You exclaimed. 

“Y/N” 

“Officer Bradford, I don’t have time for this, I gotta find my backpack and go to school. I have midterms com-” 

“Y/N, just hold on a minute.” Tim followed you as you walked back over to your room, Kojo trailing behind you, you looked around for your backpack. 

“I don’t have a minute,” you groaned in annoyance, “did I leave a backpack in your car?” 

Tim sighed, “Y/N, your backpack is in the car, I’m driving you to school and breakfast is ready. Now, go brush your hair and put on shoes that match and I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” 

“I-I can walk.” 

“I’m not letting you walk to school, especially when it’s ten miles away. You’re going to have a proper breakfast and I’ll drive you to school afterward.” Tim began leading you to the bathroom, where you could properly get ready for the day. “But don’t take too long because classes start within an hour.” 

You rolled your eyes, “I don’t take long.” 

Tim chuckled and walked back to the kitchen. He couldn’t help but laugh at the scene you had just caused, the way Kojo followed you around like a lost puppy. He was loving it, loving the noise inside his home and the way things lit up. There was life and somehow he found himself being okay with this being a norm. 

Tim didn’t sleep much the night prior, he spent most of his time tossing and turning, weighing out his options. There was one in particular that was heavy on his mind, one that he felt like it was the best for not just you, but him as well. He wasn’t even sure where to start, but he knew that when he spoke to Sasha today he would find out more. 

His mind wondered if it could be possible to make you stay at his place for a little longer, Maybe something long-term, something safer and reliable until you went to college. 

He wasn’t sure how you would feel about the idea, but he knew he did not want to bring it up until he had spoken to Sasha. Once he was sure it would be possible then he would bring up the idea to you. For now, he had to remain quiet. 

Five minutes later you came back out to the kitchen, your hair a little more tame and your shoes now matched. “Toast?” Tim asked as he placed a plate of eggs and bacon in front of you. 

“Please,” you said as you began to eat the food in front of you. 

Tim placed a piece of toast on your plate. He leaned against the counter as he drank his coffee. 

“Thanks for letting me stay the night,” you commented. 

“I’m gonna be picking you up after school, you can leave your things here while you’re at school.” You gave him a nod, “I’ll give Sasha a call and see what we can do for you, alright?” 

“Sounds like a plan,” you sighed. “She’ll just be sending me to another home and we’ll be doing the same thing over and over again.” You began, pushing around the food on your plate with your fork. 

“Who knows, maybe this time it’ll be different.” 

“Didn’t take you as an optimist,” you retorted. 

Tim rolled his eyes, “we should get going if you don’t want to be late.” 

“You’re right,” you got up from your spot and followed Tim out to the car. 

Throughout the drive to school, you rummaged through your backpack, panic was beginning to settle in when you couldn’t see the essay you had worked on the day before within your folder. “Fuck,” you whispered to yourself. 

“What’s wrong?” Tim asked. 

“I Uh-” You sighed in defeat, as you zipped your backpack up, “I lost my paper that I’m supposed to turn in today during fourth period.” 

“Where’d you last see it?” 

You remained silent, trying your best to think back on when you last saw it. You remembered placing it in your duffel before moving spots, you had been working on it when you decided on moving spots. That was when Tim saw you. “Fuck,” you groaned, “it’s back inside my duffel.” 

“Wanna go back and grab it?” Tim offered. 

“No, I can’t be late to my first period, we have a test and if I’m even late by a second I get docked by five points.” 

“It’s just five points,” Tim commented. 

“And if I miss a question it’s another five points, I can’t take those chances.” 

Tim couldn’t help but notice how you were being so hard on yourself, especially when it came to your schoolwork. On one hand, he was impressed with how serious you were on your school work given what you were going through, but on the other, it felt like you were being too hard on yourself. 

“It’s fine, I’ll have to take the L.” 

“Take the L?” 

“Take the loss?” you looked at him in disbelief, “You’ve never heard of that term?” 

“I don’t know if it’s obvious but I don’t spend my time learning all the new terms you kids make up almost every single day.” 

“The grey hairs make it a little bit obvious,” you muttered to yourself. 

“I do not have grey hairs!” Tim glanced at himself in the rearview mirror. 

You smirked, “Made you look.” 

Tim rolled his eyes, and he pulled into the school drop-off lot, “Alright, I’ll be here at three to pick you up.” 

“You know you don’t have to,” you said as you got out of the car. 

“And I said I would make sure to keep you safe. So, meet me here at three, alright?” 

You gave him a nod before closing the car door and making your way inside. Tim made sure you made it inside, it wasn’t that he didn’t trust you, it was more so that it was a habit of his. To wait until the person that he dropped off got safe inside. 

Once Tim made it home, he got ready for his daily run with Kojo. It was like clockwork, but this time he started it late since he had to drop you off. He wasn’t complaining, it was just something he had to adjust to. Today he decided to walk back home instead, but when they were almost home, Kojo decided he had enough. 

“Get up, Boot! “Quit” is a four-letter word. Do you hear me? Failure is not an option,” Tim yelled at Kojo, but the dog just stared at him. Part of Tim missed having Lucy as a boot, but he’d deny it if someone asked. Tim sighed, “Oh, come on, man. We’re almost home.” Tim felt his phone buzz, and he quickly took it out to find a message from Angela. He smirked to himself, she was just the person he was about to call. 

“Let’s go,” Kojo was quick to get up. 

Back at the house, Tim walked into the spare bedroom. “It feels wrong doing this,” he whispered to himself as he looked around. He didn’t have to look for long because the papers you had been looking for were on top of your duffle bag. He grabbed the papers and made his way out of the house. He texted Angela that he was on his way, but had to make a quick pit stop. 

He was thankful that the school was on the way to where Angela was, He walked into the front office of the school. 

“Hello, can I help you with something?” An older lady behind the counter said with a wide smile. 

“Yes, I am here to drop off something for Y/N L/N.” 

“Sure, let me just see what class she is in, right now. Give me one second, hon.” 

Tim waited as the receptionist searched through her computer. “Looks like she’s in biology right now, I’ll just call the classroom and have Mr. Gomez send her up.” 

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” Tim walks over to sit down on one of the chairs nearby. He waited for a while until he heard footsteps nearing. 

“Morning, Ms. June,” He heard your voice. “I was told to come see you?” 

“Good morning, Darling. Yes, there is a handsome gentleman here to see you.” She gestured to the direction in which Tim was sitting. 

You quickly turned to the direction she had gestured at, confused to see Tim sitting there. Your heart began to race, and your mind started jumping to conclusions. Was this it? Was this the moment that someone told you that your mom was dead? “What happened?” you asked. 

“Nothing happened, I only came back here to give you this,” he handed you a few pieces of paper. 

You couldn’t help but smile, “my paper!” you exclaimed. “T-Thank you!” You looked at him in disbelief, “You have no idea how much I appreciate this.” 

` “Just promise me this paper is at least B-worthy.” 

“Given that I spent 10 hours over the weekend just editing it, I’m hoping it is A worthy.” 

“10 Hours?” you shrugged, “Alright, well, get back to class, would hate to have you miss anything important, Nerd.” 

You rolled your eyes, “Thanks, Officer Bradford.” 

Tim sighed, “How many times do I have to tell you, you can call me Tim?” You rolled your eyes and walked back to class. You could recall the first time Tim had asked you to stop calling you Officer Bradford, it was one of the first times he had done a wellness check shortly after Rachel had left. If you were honest, you thought once Rachel left that he would have forgotten about you. So, you were surprised to see him at the door that evening. 

– Then –

It had been a week since Rachel left, and her goodbye was bittersweet. Part of you wanted to beg her to stay or to even take you with her, but you withheld your tongue. Thankful for all the things she had done for you and hopeful that she could do the same for other kids in New York. 

Now as you sat on the bed in your bedroom, which was also a laundry room, you began to wonder if anyone would ever care for you the way Rachel did. 

You could hear muffled voices coming from outside, you walked over to the window to get a glance outside. You could see a cop car parked on the side of the street, something within you knew that you had to go see who was outside. 

Tim walked up the steps, although his heart was still aching about Rachel leaving, he couldn’t get rid of this feeling that he needed a check-up on Y/N. He had been informed that she had been taken to a new foster home only a week ago and he hoped this home was better than the last. 

He knocked on the door only to be greeted seconds later by an older-looking man with a beer in his hand. “Can I help you?” 

“Good afternoon, I’m just doing a welfare check on Y/N.” 

“Well, She’s fine, thanks for checking,” the man began to close the door. 

“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m gonna have to hear it from her that’s fine,” Tim insisted as he placed his foot in between the door to stop it from closing. 

The man rolled his eyes, letting out a deep sigh, “She’s not home,” he shrugged.

Tim smirked as he spotted Y/N peaking around the corner from behind the man, “Hey, Y/N, it’s me, Officer Bradford!” The man quickly turned around, glaring at the young girl behind her. Tim was quick to see the fear appear in her eyes, he knew right then and there that he had to get her out of this house. “Mind if we talk for a bit outside?” 

The man stepped aside giving Y/N the space she needed to walk outside. The door was quickly closed behind her, “How are you?” 

“Peachy,” you stated as you sat down on the steps. Tim followed your lead but decided standing would be best. 

He scanned your body, noticing newly formed bruises on your neck and arms. He knew the ones of your arms were from defending yourself. He clenched his jaw in anger, letting out a deep sigh, “How long have they been hurting you?” 

You crossed your arms, trying to hide the bruises. “At this point, I think I deserve it. Sometimes I just don’t know when to shut up.” 

“No one deserves it, especially a kid.” 

“It started yesterday,” you began, “It was just once, otherwise they’ve been really ki-” 

“Don’t defend them, especially when the man himself didn’t even want to call you to the door for a welfare check. I’m getting you out of here,” Tim stated. 

“To go where? Another home with the same result?” You shook your head, “I’m better off here.” 

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but one night in the shelter won’t be too bad.”

You scoffed, “Then I’ll have all my things taken from me.”

“If that’s what you are worried about then you can leave your things with me and take what is essential,” Tim offered. He hated that this was his only option for you, but it was better than staying another night in this home. He wanted to prevent something from happening to you again. 

You let out a defeated sigh, “you’d do that?” 

“I’ll even pick you up from the shelter in the morning and take you to school,” Tim could see that you were thinking it over. He stood there hoping that you would take the offer. 

“Fine.” Tim gave you a soft smile before ordering you to go get your things. He had called in his findings and asked for a backup. Nolan had arrived minutes later, arresting your foster dad for child abuse.

You watched as Nolan put your foster dad in the back of the shop, “is that everything?” Tim asked. 

You had felt like you were forgetting something, “Um,” you began as you quickly rummaged through your duffel. “Fuck!” you dropped the duffel and ran back inside the home. You ran inside the room you had been staying in, quickly spotting the tan-colored leg, of a stuffed animal, under the bed. You grabbed it and ran back outside, earning a raised eyebrow from Tim, “I need you to keep him safe,” you stated as you handed him to Tim. 

“A stuffed Bunny?” Tim questioned as he took the bunny from you. You gave him a pleading look and Tim quickly understood, “I’ll keep him safe.” Tim gestured for you to follow him to his truck, Tim had contacted your caseworker, while you were packing, who, in turn, asked Tim to take you to the shelter. In other circumstances, Tim would have probably said no, that he had other things to do but that wasn’t the case this time. Tim wanted to take you to the shelter. He needed to make sure you were safe and from there on, he did. 

– Now – 

“This is the kid you’ve been checking up the past couple of months, right?” Angela asked as she looked at herself in the mirror. Tim had come over to the bridal shop to help Angela pick a dress and frankly, he needed advice right now. 

“Yeah, and I’m waiting on a call from her caseworker and… I think I want to foster her. Like, is it crazy to want to foster her?” 

Angela shrugged, “Maybe, but maybe it’s because you think you should’ve had a kid by now so you’re in this mindset of wanting to be some type of father figure to something.” Tim looked at Angela dumbfounded, “or maybe it’s just crazy,” she added with a smile.

“So, should I do it?” Tim asked. 

Angela sat down beside Tim, “You want my honest opinion?” he nodded, “I think you should. I feel like this will be good for you and who knows, maybe you’ll learn a thing or two.” 

Tim smiled, “Thanks, Angela.” 

Angela smiled, “Now be honest, you sure this dress doesn’t make my belly look big?” Tim rolled his eyes and laughed. 

It didn’t take long after for Angela to find a dress she liked and once she did they were out of there. She insisted on bringing over cake samples later for him to help her decide, part of Tim thinks she used it as an excuse to just meet you and get to know you a little better. Yet, Tim didn’t say no, because the other part of him wouldn’t turn down cake if it was offered. 

Once Tim had left the Bridal shop, he decided to give your caseworker a call, tired of waiting on her. 

The phone rang a few times before she picked up, “Hello?” 

“Hey, Sasha, it’s Tim!” 

“Oh, Tim! Hey! I am so sorry, I meant to call you back right away I just got caught up on some stuff” 

“It’s alright, don’t have to explain. I understand how hectic it can be.” 

Sasha smiled through the phone, “What can I help you with?” 

“Well, like I said in the message, I found Y/N last night and she’d been living under a bridge the past week. So, I took her in for the night and now I’m wondering if I can foster her. I know there's probably a lot of paperwork that needs to be done an-” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Sasha interrupted, “I think it’s best if she stays with you, I’ll talk to a judge and see if we can get you emergency custody until I can get started on the paperwork. At this point, I have no other place for her to go.” 

Tim let out a relieved sigh, there was hope, “Anyway I can get the rest of her stuff from her previous foster parents? I know she carries around this stuffed bunny and… well it’s probably not important.” 

Sasha had never noticed the bunny, but then, she never thought to notice. “Y-yeah, I can send you the address and notify them that you’ll be there soon to pick up her things.” 

“Another thing, Um- Y/N mentioned that her foster father he um- he watched her shower a few times.” 

Sasha took in a deep breath, “that’s heavy.” 

“Yeah, look, if it were up to me this man would be behind bars.” 

“I’ll call it in, get him off the foster list, and see if we can get him convicted.” 

Tim sighed, “Alright,” if it were up to him, the man would be six feet underground by now. But it wasn’t up to him. 

“I’ll text you the address right now, and maybe it’s best if you have someone else with you when you go.” 

Tim chuckled, “Don’t worry, I’m angry but not stupid, Sasha.”  Sasha said her goodbyes. It was only a minute after when Tim got an address sent to his phone. 

It didn’t take Tim long to get to your foster parent’s home. Once he had gotten out of his truck a man waited on the porch for him, “Hey,” Tim said coldly. 

“I assume you’re Tim,” the man said in a rough voice, Tim gave him a nod. “All her shit is in this bag,” the man said as he gestured to the garbage bag that was leaning against the wall of the house. 

Tim walked over to the bag and began rummaging through it, “um, there’s this stuffed bunny-” 

“I threw it out, she’s too old to be holding on to shit like that,” he scoffed. 

Tim rolled his eyes, “Come on, man. It’s more than that to her.” 

“Well, if you’re gonna be such a bitch about it, it’s in the trash up front.” The man gestured to the pile of trash that was waiting to be picked up. Tim felt his blood boil, but he had to control his anger. The last thing he needed was to lose his cool, not only would he potentially lose his job, but he could lose the opportunity to give you a safe home. 

Tim gave the man a nod, “Thanks,” he picked up the bag, he then walked over to his truck, and placed the bag in the backseat before walking over to the trash to search for the bunny. 

“Alright, Mr. Hops,” he muttered to himself, “if you could hop on out that would save me a whole lot of time.” After pushing aside a bag or two, he spotted Mr. Hops with ease. “Ah-ha!” Tim smiled to himself as he grabbed the bunny and walked over to his truck. 

Tim drove back home to put your things in your room. Well, the guest room, which is now your room. Tim couldn’t believe it when he thought, that his guest room was no longer a guest room, but your room. Tim found himself excited for what was to come, hopeful that you would be excited too. Yet, he had this fear within him that you wouldn’t be excited.

He glanced at his watch, “fuck!” he muttered as he realized the time. Running out of the house and to his truck, he was going to be late to pick you up and he didn’t want to risk you leaving, thinking that he would never show. Tim parked in the pick-up area at the high school, watching as kids walked out of the gates. He spotted you quickly, smiling as you were already making your way to the truck. 

“Hey!” Tim exclaimed as you hopped into the truck, quickly putting on your seatbelt. “How was school?” 

You shrugged, “‘s alright, I guess.” you sighed, “Any luck with Sasha?” You had been anxious about it all day, just wanting to get it over with, were you going to spend the night at the shelter or another shitty foster home? 

Tim nodded as he drove away from the school, “I did actually. We uh- found you a foster home and they’re really excited to take you in.” 

“Same old story,” you rolled your eyes. 

“They actually requested for me to take your things straight over so you could go straight to their house right after school,” Tim stated, he couldn’t hide the smirk on his face. 

“Jesus, they sound… controlling.” 

Tim shrugged, “who knows, maybe they won’t be that bad.” 

“What about my things from my other fos-” 

“I already picked up your things from there,” Tim interrupted. 

“Oh,” you whispered. You didn’t know why you felt sad that Tim was so quick with his responses, so quick to find you a new foster home. Part of you liked staying with Tim, even if it had been one night, it had been the safest you felt in months, maybe even years. 

“Here we go,” Tim stated, you felt the truck go up a driveway, and you looked out to see where he had taken you. You quickly looked over at Tim with a confused expression. 

“W-wait, I’m confused, I thought you said you were taking me to-” 

“I did,” Tim interrupted. 

“But this is your house,” you stated. 

Tim nodded, “I spoke to Sasha and I told her that I think it’s best if you stayed with me for the time being and she agreed.” Tim couldn’t help but smile as your face lit up. 

“You’re going to foster me?” 

“Yes, if that’s okay with you, of course, if not I can call-” 

“No! I mean, yes! This is perfectly fine with me!” You smiled from ear to ear, “thank you, Tim.” 

Tim smiled, “Of course,” he cleared his throat, ”Now how about we get inside so you can unpack and I’m thinking pizza tonight?” You weren’t going to argue with his ideas, you followed him inside and went straight to your room. Staying with Tim was probably the last thing you thought would happen, but you were happy that you were, but somehow you felt like this was only the beginning of something. 

Taglist: @reignsboy19 @halsteadstyles @daffodil0darling

[steviewashere]

Don't Dish What You Can't Serve

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Sexual Harassment (Not Between Main Pairing), Chewing Tobacco, Gross Shit Happens That I Can't Say Because It Spoils The PlotTags: Different First Meeting AU, No Upside Down AU, No Supernatural AU, Steve Never Became Friends With Tommy and Carol, Hurt/Comfort, Tommy Hagan Being an Asshole, Tommy Hagan is a Piece of Shit Here, Waiter Steve Harrington, Line Cook Eddie Munson, They Work at Benny's, So This is an AU Where Benny's Never Closed, Protective Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Gets Revenge, Steve is a College Student (But That's Not Entirely Important Here), '86 Was Eddie's Year

🥤——————🥤 Steve picks up a new job in the summer of 1986, waiting tables. The job at Family Video fell through and it just didn’t pay enough. He was starting his first year at the local college soon and he desperately needed the money. Especially since his parents cut him off, sighting his one gap year as enough reason. And so he goes to Benny’s, fills out an application and turns it in the same day. Back at his apartment, also the same day, he gets hired on. Alongside another guy around his age, one he recognizes from high school as Eddie Munson—who must’ve finally finished his time as a senior and now just needed to work.

Neither of them really talk to each other outside of putting orders in and taking orders out. Maybe occasionally scolding the other because—“You didn’t ask how rare he wanted his steak, Harrington? How the hell am I supposed to make it then?” and “Munson, you forgot the fucking ketchup on this asshole’s cheeseburger and now he won’t shut the fuck up about it. Fix this, please for the love of god.”

So, sure, they don’t get along all that well all the time. They’re not friends. More so just acquaintances. And so they don't really talk.

However, that changes one evening.

It’s a couple weeks before the upcoming school year is supposed to start. Hawkins, Indiana is one of those little college towns. Meaning, the new students were finally moving, coming around, getting to know where they now lived. And that includes one particular customer, Tommy Hagan, and his girlfriend, Carol Perkins. They’ve been coming in since mid-July, despite the new year starting in September, despite move-in dates set in late August. Every Sunday, Steve sees their pinched, smarmy, cocky faces. And every Sunday, they always cause some sort of issue.

The first time, Tommy spilled his soda all over the tiled restaurant floor. Claimed it was an accident, but Steve saw him. He saw the guy push his cup over the edge. Heard him snicker as Steve bent down to wipe it up, as he stood back up and plastered on a tight smile, promising that he’d get him a new soda right away. Flushed with shame as Tommy laughed and laughed and laughed his ass off about the, “Guy with the big stupid eyes and no thoughts in his head” and how he, “Probably doesn’t have much going for him if he’s working in a place like this.”

A riddle and game, that’s what it was. Steve would welcome them, take their orders, put them in for Eddie to make, drop the food off, and be at their service if something went wrong. Which was always. And he’d endure the stupid comments Tommy would make when he wasn’t in earshot. Spanning from how incompetent their waiter was—“He’s always screwing something up, swear to god. Don’t even know how he’s holding a job here, jeez.”—to how big of a manwhore he is because of how tight his work pants were. As if Steve would ever be catching tail in his stupid slacks, always stained with food and sticky soda by the end of the night, and the same pants that give him wedgies if he doesn’t make them sit right on his waist. All in all, Tommy is their worst customer. But it’s just a job, Steve always thought, it’ll get better at some point. Tommy will eventually start classes and leave me alone.

Then, of course, comes the Sunday a couple weeks before the new school year. Tommy is alone this time. No Carol on his arm. He just slides into one of the booths and watches Steve work until he approaches. And immediately, something is terribly off about this encounter.

“Welcome to Benny’s, can I get any drinks started for you?” Steve asks. His script. Customer service voice pitchy and monotone as it drips from his mouth.

Tommy doesn’t answer for several moments. Leaving Steve to stand and loom and stare. To smile and squirm. As he rakes his eyes so unnoticeably over all of Steve’s frame. His tongue trails along the inside of his lower lip, eyes heated, a gross smirk on his face. Smarmy.

“Bet you’d look good without that dumb frilly apron around your waist,” Tommy teases. It’s half-flirtatious, Steve thinks. But all the same creepy and…predatory.

“Excuse me?” He can only respond.

The asshole hums, assessing. Repeats himself. And adds, “You’d make better tips, too. Maybe put some gloss on your lips, a tighter shirt, no apron…yeah…vision’s coming together, baby. Could make everybody your bitch when you serve them.” He stares for a second longer. Rests his face in his left hand and flutters his eyes at Steve. “Can I get my usual, pretty boy? And one of those strawberry milkshakes.”

Steve writes the order down on his little notepad, shifting foot to foot. His stomach twists and knots. Brain still whirling at what Tommy said, unable to retort. Doesn’t even know how to really feel. Not flattered, that’s for sure. Slimy…that seems like a good enough substitute for the emotions mildewing in his chest.

“Y’know,” Tommy continues, voice sticky the way humidity is—uncomfortable—“I see how hard you work around here sometimes, even if you are pretty bad at it. Swear I can see the cogs just clogging up in your head. If you wanna give that pea brain of yours a moment to relax, you could share that drink with me. Maybe I’ll tip you real good this time, baby.”

He shifts again. Hands clammy and bile in the back of his throat. Steve swallows hard, thinks he stutters something out akin to, “I’ll be back with your order,” and promptly disappears into the kitchen.

The door swings closed behind him. And he’s not really looking, not paying attention. Just trying to get away from the residue left in Tommy’s air of existence. In the seconds between entering the kitchen and trying to storm away, he runs into somebody. An exerted grunt, raspy and deep, sounds out in front of him.

“Hey! Watch”—the person gently grabs him by the shoulders and leads them somewhere that he can’t really register. In a softer voice, no longer agitated, “Steve? Hey, man, y’alright?”

Steve sniffles. It’s then that he recognizes the heat in his cheeks, overwhelmingly hot and itchy. The scalding of tears. A pinch behind his eyes. There’s a soft cushion underneath him, the telltale creak of one of the older dining chairs. The air smells like garlic and grease, but a breeze catches over his exposed forearms—most likely from an air conditioning unit. He’s in the break room, he can finally notice. And break he does.

“That asshole is back,” he garbles, “and he”—hiccup—“he’s being really gross to me.”

The person crouches down in front of him, putting them eye-to-eye. And he knows immediately that it’s Eddie. Long hair pulled up into as neat of a bun as he can manage. A group of pitch black bats on pale skin. Dark brown eyes, shifting back and forth between his own with a mixture of concern and anger.

“What’d he say to you, Steve?”

He sniffs again, trying to gain some composure before he inevitably has a full-blown breakdown. Inevitable because he always has one when he goes home to his apartment, but it might happen here, and he can’t afford to let it happen here. Not today, at least, not now.

“Calling me…calling me baby and pretty boy. And he—he’s trying to make me share his stupid milkshake and he calls me stupid—that I have a…a fucking pea brain. Eddie, he calls me stupid every single time he comes in and I just—he’s just—I can’t”—

Eddie runs his warm hands up and down his biceps, gently pushing the fabric of his quarter sleeve, too. He shushes low and whispered. Murmurs, “I don’t want you to go back out there without me, alright?” His eyes dart back and forth between Steve’s wet ones once more. One of his hands leaves and digs into his back pocket, producing a black bandana. And he carefully brings it up close, patting it over Steve’s blotchy cheeks. “You don’t deserve that, Steve,” he whispers, “and I’ll make sure he gets what he deserves. Just wait back here for a bit and I’ll get his order done.”

Steve nods slow and heavy. Wipes the heel of his palm roughly over his eyes—to which Eddie tuts at and firmly drags it away, replacing it with the worn, soft fabric of that bandana. “Sorry that I ran into you at the door,” he says quietly.

“I’m glad you did. Because I’m going to make sure that asshole never bothers you again. ‘M sick of hearing what he does to you every single time he comes in.” Eddie stands up, but leaves the bandana to dangle in Steve’s loose grip. A tentative stroke through Steve’s hair, something he usually wouldn’t allow, but it’s too nice to turn down. “We’ll put him up on the wall, too. That bastard can suck a fucking egg.”

He laughs at that, or at least something like a laugh. It’s brittle, airy, but genuine. And watches Eddie go.

Roughly fifteen minutes later, though, Eddie wanders back into the break room and drags them back towards the milkshake blender in the kitchen. He has the ingredients all laid out next to the machine: vanilla ice cream, a gallon of milk, some freshly chopped strawberries, the can of whipped cream, and the glass itself. Adds the milk and the ice cream, but then stops abruptly, turning to dig something out of his pocket.

“What’re you doing?” Steve quietly asks, worried to be overheard through the ticket window.

“Oh, just some good ol’ payback,” Eddie answers, something darker than mirth in his tone. What he produces from his pocket is a can of chewing tobacco. The nasty menthol kind, too. He shakes the little tin in his hand, the tobacco thunking against the lid of the container. And then he twists the cap off, plucks a quarter sized amount, and stuffs the wad between his bottom teeth and lower lip. Mouth literally bulging with the tobacco. “We’ll blend this shit first,” he whispers, scheming, “add the strawberries. Then, comes the grand finale.”

Steve side eyes Eddie. His deft fingers flittering over the buttons of the blender, scooping out the strawberries with the same hand he picked up tobacco with. He grimaces, but doesn’t comment on that. “Grand finale?”

“One of the biggest fears that customers have when they go into any restaurant is that the waiter is going to spit in their food,” he nonchalantly explains, capping the blender, “though, a lot of them don’t consider the line cook. Or at least, the rude ones don’t.” Eddie shifts something in his mouth, what sounds like the slosh of thick saliva. “He’ll probably complain, but it’s not like he’ll be believed. It’s a safety hazard, sure. But nobody suspects the cook because they’re supposed to know that shit. A cook spitting in a patron’s food? No way, man. That shit’s taboo.”

“And if he is believed?”

Eddie merely shrugs. “Then I get fired. But it’s whatever. I’m already on my way out anyway, got enough money for what I need.” 

Before Steve can ask or get in response, Eddie’s blasting the blender. It chugs and churns the half cup of milk and the measly two scoops of ice cream. The strawberries burst and bleed juice throughout, mixture turning pink. And with a few shakes, a half-way pit stop to unclog the bigger chunks, and a go-about with the partially dysfunctional blades—Eddie chucks the lid off, unlocks the pitcher from the machine, and turns away from Steve.

“I’m gonna have the good graces to not make you watch this shit,” Eddie gives as an explanation, “y’may wanna cover your ears.” Steve doesn’t, though wishes he did. With a cough and a semi-gag, Eddie inhales and burbles the saliva in the back of his mouth. He can hear the way the tobacco spit dribbles from between Eddie’s lips, the way it plops into the blended mixture, and the last little dredges left in his mouth. Steve’s stomach turns, but he doesn’t stop it. Doesn’t step in.

Eddie turns back around with the blender. Sitting on top of the pink mix is one quarter sized glob of tobacco and saliva, the spit already spilling down the sides of the pitcher. “Ta-da!” Eddie exclaims, shaking the pitcher back and forth. “And that is what I like to call the revenge special. Half cup milk, two scoops of vanilla ice cream, four chopped strawberries, and a fantastical exported ingredient from the land of your’s truly. It may be a seasonal item, but it’s got the gust of something that’ll last a lifetime.”

“God…that is disgusting,” Steve mock-whispers. “You’re a fucking genius.”

“Thank you, it’s one of my many tricks.” He sets the blender down onto the metal counter, a hard thunk that rattles the milkshake glass. “Now, do me a favor and pour that into the glass, get him one of those stupid striped straws, spray it up with some whip. And I’ll dish up his monstrosity of a cheeseburger.” Eddie’s eyes soften away from the mirth they previously had. His voice dropping low, too. “I’ll deliver it, too, by the way. I would never throw you under the bus for something gross like this. This should hopefully get him to stay away, though. If he does complain about you and you have to flee, I’ll help you find a new job.”

“I could just say I did it, y’know,” Steve tentatively says, “that I fucked up his drink. You don’t need to lose your job because of issues I’m having.”

“You were crying, Steve,” Eddie points out gently. “Nobody makes my waiters cry. And nobody gets away with it, either.” He slinks away from Steve without another word and without another word getting in. And Steve watches him for a long moment. As he busies himself around his workspace, tidied and organized the way he needs it. The flex of his muscles as he flips and cuts and assembles that cheeseburger. His baby hairs at the crown of his head getting stuck to his sweaty temples, hard work painting and furrowing his brows.

But when he’s caught staring, Eddie simply and softly smiles, gestures at the blender, and turns back to his plate. So, Steve does what he’s told. Assembles the nail to his coffin, one pour and spray and straw at a time. And walks out of the kitchen, behind Eddie’s flexing back, his grease stained and sweat drenched white t-shirt. He sits at the front counter, in one of the old, flaking barstools. Watches.

Tommy looks up at Eddie from his spot in the booth, eyes wide as he sees Eddie take a seat across from him. He grimaces and sours. “You aren’t that waiter. Who the fuck are”—

“Heard you like milkshakes,” Eddie drawls. “Thought maybe I could get your opinion on a new recipe I’m trying. It’s strawberry, don’t worry your preppy little chinos off. But there’s been a slight change, was wondering what you’d think about it.”

Across the table, Tommy gives Eddie an odd glance. “Is it that important that you watch me? Surely I could’ve just sent my compliments to you or whatever when I’m done.”

“Nah, I like getting it straight from the source. So, go ahead, take a sip. Tell me what you think.”

Steve has to physically draw himself back, has to swallow down the gag and bile working their way through him, and genuinely convulses back against the counter as Tommy takes his first, long, hard sip of the milkshake. His face doesn’t move much with the sip, but he does scowl a tad, grimacing with a slight twitch in his upper lip.

“Tastes sour,” Tommy comments.

Eddie hums. “But is it good? Sometimes sour’s a good thing.” He reaches across the table, then, and plucks up Tommy’s cheeseburger. Crosses one arm across his chest, hand resting on his opposite bicep, and brings the food up to his mouth, taking a hearty bite.

“Hey!” Tommy exclaims, “that’s my cheeseburger, man! You can’t just”—

“Get a second sip and maybe I’ll consider remaking your food.” Eddie smugly watches Tommy take another deep swallow. His eyes cast at the glass, roaming at the little brown flecks in the shake. Knowing and proud. “It’s good, isn’t it?”

“I mean it’s…objectively, I guess it’s good. Can I get a new burger, man? I’m starving here and I’ve got a date with my girlfriend in thirty minutes.”

All at once, Steve’s heart enters his stomach. Eddie takes another large bite of the burger before replacing it on Tommy’s plate. He crosses his arms against the top of the table, fingers tucked securely in the creases of his elbows. Leans all the way across until he’s nearly nose to nose with Tommy.

“So, could you taste what was different? Could your pea brain discern the new flavor on your tongue?” He asks, smarmy as Tommy has ever been. Over-confident, yet satisfied.

Tommy’s eyes widen at his words being thrown back in his face, startles against the back of his booth. Fingers gripping to the edge of the table, cheeks going pale. “I…I don’t”—

“Spit.”

“Wh—What?”

“Spit,” Eddie repeats coldly. “You just drank my fucking tobacco spit.” Silence. And then, “How’d I taste, baby? Be honest. Was it everything you’d ever hope it would be with a man?”

More silence. Tense and thick, enough that it weighs on Steve’s shoulders across the way. However, Tommy finally registers what just happened. He gags hard, hand covering his curdled mouth. Behind it, muffled, he says, “You’re sick in the head. I’ll—I’ll fucking tell your boss. You’ll fucking regret this.” And he stands up on shaky legs, dashing away before he can vomit all over himself.

Eddie only watches him leave, satisfied and content. He looks back to Steve, grins. “I can’t wait to see his girlfriend’s face when she finds out he isn’t allowed back.”

Steve nervously giggles and crosses to the booth, sliding in where Tommy just was. “You’re insane,” he murmurs.

“Yeah, but it worked, didn’t it? Too bad he didn’t leave a tip. There is a cheeseburger if you want the rest of it. Promise I didn’t fuck with that.” Eddie’s eyes are on him, soft and thoughtful, watching him pick up the partially eaten burger. “I can make you a new one instead, if you’d prefer. Extra cheese, too.”

“Trying to get in all the cooking you can before this inevitably backfires?”

“Sure…or I’m trying to make sure you’re taken care of. One in the same, I suppose. So, provolone, right? Could even combine some of the cheese if you want. Pepper jack and havarti…colby jack and swiss. Take your pick.”

Steve glances up from the plate in front of him. Heart beating fast and chest gooey as Eddie looks onto him with something like reverence. “Provolone, please,” he requests quietly, “and can I get extra crunchy crinkle fries, too?”

Reaching out a hand, Eddie gently pats the back of Steve’s left. “You got it, baby”—he hisses—“I probably shouldn’t call you that. I’m so”—

“It’s alright,” Steve murmurs, “I…uh…I don’t mind if it’s you.”

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath, then stands from the other side of the bench. “You’re gonna give me a hero complex and an ego, Stevie.” He begins to retreat towards the kitchen, calling out about bringing the dishes back when he’s done, that the milkshake could just be tossed glass and all.

But Steve stops him with, “Hey, Eddie?” Is met again with those soft, dark brown eyes. “Thank you,” he quietly says, “I never thought I’d get him away from me. Means a lot that you helped.”

There’s a soft smile on Eddie’s face, one that Steve can’t help but return.

“Anything for you, man.”

He makes Eddie stop again, though. To gaze, to drink in that tight white t-shirt and the spatter of black ink on his arms, his heavy pretty curls, and that soft face of his. “When we finish closing up for the night, do you wanna come over to mine? I’ve got a rented copy of Empire Strikes Back and a few beers. Only if you”—

“I’d love to, Steve. Now let me make you your food, sweetheart. Before you gobble me up with that hungry stare of yours.”

🥤——————🥤

[dilfl0v3rss]

choso x reader who skipped school (college) and hung out with her friends and was lying saying she was going to school everyday until her grades came in the mail and she got dealt with

YESSSSS BAEEEEE

you knew your boyfriend didn’t play that lazy shit. you were to be up every morning, dressed, ready and on time for your classes. it was a tight schedule and you felt like you were having no time to relax, so you just stopped. now of course choso wasn’t just going to let you stop going to class so you continued to make it seem like you were going just to keep him off your back. you’d wake up, get dressed at the same time you used too, and be out that door by 10:30 just like usual. the only difference is instead of you making your way to campus you would make your way to the mall or starbucks, or a fancy restaurant with your friends.

you didn’t mean for it to drag out for so long, but you were just so tired and drained when it came to all the lectures and papers so each time you thought about it the farther away you turned from it.

“gimme a kiss fore you go baby” choso mumbled, his chest bare to you as he sat up on the bed. his job blessed him with a day off today and as much as you wanted to just stay with him, you knew it’ll blow your cover. “f’course papa” your lips caressed each others briefly before you were walking out the door. you quickly skipped towards your car, giggling as you pulled out your phone to see where you and your girls were hanging out today. choso was going to go back to bed, but decided to stay awake and do some work around the house since he hasn’t been home like this in awhile.

a couple hours have went by and he noticed that you haven’t called him between classes like you usually did when he was off during the week. a flush of embarrassment running through him as he thought of his clinginess. “miss my girl” he mumbled as he pulled out his phone to send you a quick text. halfway through his message he heard the doorbell ring, his head instantly turning towards the front door as he rose from the couch in the living room. choso quietly looked through the front blinds, waiting for the mailman to be completely gone so he can come out and get the mail without having to throw on a t shirt.

as he sat back down on the couch, papers in hand, he read through each piece of mail he got. “bank, insurance, insurance again, victoria’s secret…..academic office? wha-” choso cut himself off as he slowly opened up the envelope, the sight of your grades along with the notice about your attendance made him almost rip the paper in half. you haven’t been to your classes in two weeks and your grades were a damn mess. “the hell?” he mumbled, thoughts of you leaving everyday clouding his mind as choso tried to think of what the fuck you possibly could’ve been doing these past two weeks.

he knew you weren’t cheating on him, the thought not even crossing his mind as he clicked on your location. he tried to refrain from doing this, not wanting to seem like a control freak, but since you wanted to act up he was going to have to be a little stern with you. as he looked at where you were choso could help but chuckle. “the damn mall, f’course” he mumbled as he looked at your little bubble moving towards what looked like the parking lot. he knew you weren’t going to come home right now because he was home, but since it just so happened to be the time you’d take to have lunch between classes he decided to give you a call.

as you looked at the picture of your boyfriend on your phone, a small smile graced your features. you had no idea what he knew. “hi babyyyy” you yelled, making choso smile on the other line. “hi mama, miss you” you giggled, throwing your bags in the car before sitting in your seat. “maybe i could come see you. just got outta class” you lied through your teeth. choso’s anger only grew as he listened to you lie to him like it was nothing, his jaw tightening as he kept a straight face while he talked. “i’d like that, been thinkin bout you all day” his deep voice made you smile, a tingle running up your spine as you quickly started your car. you told choso you’ll be home soon before the two of you hung up and you started your journey.

as you were on the way choso made sure to put all the mail away, only leaving the slip he got from your school in his hand as he waited for you on the couch. you rushed to the house, happy as you made every light and there was zero traffic since you didn’t even have to take the highway like you did when coming home from class, the mall was literally right there. as you walked towards the front door, you didn’t even have to knock since choso opened it for you. “hi papa!” you squealed before giving him a bunch off kisses on his cheeks. he wrapped his arms around your waist, giving you a tight hug. he inhaled your scent already knowing you were spraying yourself with different perfumes in the mall because of the mix of aromas coming from your shirt. “got here quick baby, usually would still be on the road right now”

your heart dropped at his words, a quick lie flying from your lips to get him off your tracks. “i just missed you so much i might’ve drove a little fast, don’t be mad at me” you looked up at him, chin on his hard chest as you gave him a pout. choso smiled down at you, his anger already shooting through his arms as he began to squeeze you a little tighter. “never” he said before letting you go. he watched you prance over to your room, not a care in the world running through your mind as you lied to your boyfriend for the second time today. “how was class? learn anything new” he mumbled, his body leaning in the doorway as he watched you plop yourself onto the bed. “boring as always learning the same old thing” you were on a role with these lies today.

choso finally couldn’t take it anymore, slowly walking up to you before leaning both of his hands next to your thighs. just from the look he gave you, you knew you were in trouble. “so when are you gonna stop lying?” his deep voice sent chills down your spine as you looked into his tired eyes. you were too scared to lie, opting for some waterworks instead which made him scoff. “i-it was getting t-to hardddd. i couldn’t keep uppp” you whined, earning yourself a quick hand around your throat as choso stood up to his full height. he slowly dug his hand in his pocket and pulled out the paper, showing you your horrendous grades as well as the attendance notice at the bottom. “so instead of asking me for help, you skip class for two weeks?” you looked up at his angry face with watery eyes, your throat already getting dry as you tried not to cry anymore.

you knew you were wrong and choso knew you were actually never planning to stop, so he was happy he caught you when he did. “turn the fuck over” he grumbled, his hand lightly pushing you back by your neck as he released you from his hold. you whined, slowly turning over in the bed and raising your ass high in the air the way he liked. choso ignored the praise he’d usually give you, getting straight to the point as he began to rub the flesh of your asscheeks through your tights. “you lied t’me three times. lied about being in class, about driving home from class, and about how this imaginary class was boring” you listened intently to what he was saying, taking notice of the way he was slowly pulling at the top of your tights.

“i’m feeling nice today so i’m not gonna count the amount of times you’ve been lying t’me for the last two weeks, but you still getting a punishment for it eventually, understand?” you internally whined, your face going into a frown as you looked straight ahead. “y-yes” choso gave you a quiet “good” before gripping the back of your tights with both hands and ripping the fabric down the middle. you gasped at his strength, letting a whine slip as you realized he just ripped up for favorite pair. his big hand landed a hard smack on your ass, making your body jolt forwards before he used his other hand to quickly grab your waist. “ima spank you three times ‘kay?”

you nodded your head while giving him a quiet “okay” before choso continued on. “that first one was for your whining so it doesn’t count. you don’t get to be upset when you get caught being bad y’hear me?” you slowly nod your head, your cheek squished in the sheets as you closed your eyes and braced yourself for the consequences of your actions. choso kept his eyes on your ass, knowing the sight of your teary face would weaken him. he slowly raised his hand, letting each day you woke up and lied to him play through his mind before landing a rough slap on your ass.

you immediately moaned from the contact, your pussy soaking your panties as you tried your best to hold still for him. “what was that for mama?” he asked, his rough palm rubbing around the area as he awaited your response. you had to take a deep breath before you spoke. “f-for lying about being in c-class” a smirk adorned his features at your obedience. choso didn’t expect you to be able to speak, but the need for forgiveness always seemed to get you to do unspeakable things. “good girl” he mumbled, his deep voice sending more wetness through your underwear as you felt his hand leave your ass again.

the second slap was a bit harder, making your entire body jerk forward as you quickly tucked your lip behind your teeth to keep you from screaming. “unt uhh baby i gotta hear you. how you gon talk t’me while biting your lip like that huh?” you slowly complied, freeing the glossy skin from the confines of your mouth as you felt his hand begin to rub up and down your back. choso slowly released himself from his sweatpants, rubbing his thick dick along the fabric of your wet panties as he spoke. “tell me what that one was for baby” he groaned, the feeling of your arousal sending shivers down his spine. “was f’lying ab….about driving home f-from class….please daddy m’so sorryyy” your moans were music to his ears. choso slowly moved your panties to the side, a low “mhmm” leaving his throat at he looked at your glistening folds connecting to your panties with strings of your arousal. “what’s this last one for mama?”

you opened your mouth to speak, but were cut off by the feeling of his rough palm colliding with your ass. the sound so loud it bounced of the walls as he sunk his dick deep inside your entrance. a loud moan escaping your mouth as you felt inch by thick inch of him being sheathed inside of you. “ooohhh fuckk i can’t” a rough slap was brought to your ass again at your words. anger ran through choso’s veins as he listened to you lie to him again. “stop it baby, yes you can” he started at a slow pace, letting you feel each and every part of him as he kept a tight grip on your hips. his dick dragging in and out of you, touching everywhere all at once as he let you moan and whine into the air. “why you makin me do this t’you, huh? why couldn’t you just ask me for help?” his deep voice caressed your ears as you felt his pace begin to quicken. you wanted your words to come out, but the faster he fucked you the harder it got for you to think. coherent words being replaced with mumbles and whines. choso chuckled at the state of you, his dick twitching he put his hands flat on your back to deepen your arch.

“papa pleaseeee” you whined, your walls tightened around him as you felt his dick begin to push into your stomach. you went to reach for his abs, lightly trying push some of his inches out, but you were met with a big hand around your wrist. whines flew from your lips, your tears continuously soaking the sheets as you tried to plead with the man behind you. “p-please i can’t ch….cho-” “s’not my name mama. if you finish that sentence ima make you go to your next class after this. with my cum leaking down your thighs” he roughly threw your hand back in front of you, continuing his brutal thrusts as he watched your pussy take each and every inch of him. “why couldn’t you jus ask for help? you know i’d never tell you no to somethin like that”

your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your mind all over the place as you confessed the reason for your actions to your boyfriend. “d-didn’t wanna bother you. y’work too much….work too hard and never rest….just wanted you t’rest papa” choso’s eyes softened at your words, his thrusts slowing at he pulled you up to him by your neck. his broad chest pressed against your back as he spoke deeply in your ear. “that’s not the way t’look out f’me mama. cause now i gotta do even more work to catch you back up” a low cry left your lips as you realized how right he was. cries if “m’sorry” and “please don’t be mad at me” flew from your lips like a prayer as you felt choso regain his quick and deep pace.

“s’okay tho baby, papa’s gonna be off work for a couple weeks since the building is under construction. ima get you right on track” at that you felt his thick fingers rub quickly on your clit. his thrusts deepening as he continuously hit your g spot. your body melted into his arms as you felt your release begin to approach you. “d-da m’gonna cum…can i?” everything in choso’s brain was screaming at him to tell you no, but the sorry, far away look in your big, brown, glossy eyes weakened him to the point where he felt his release approaching him as well. a low groan escaped from his lips as he quickly nodded his head. “yea mama give it t’me. don’t worry about a thing jus let papa handle it okay?”

without a reply the both of you chased after your orgasms. your hips moving back onto choso’s dick, clenching around him tightly as he continued to rub quick circles around your clit. “c-cum in me p-please” you whimpered, tears running down your face as you and choso connected your lips together. he sloppily kissed you, moaning a “mhmmm” as he let both of your salivas mix together. before long neither of you could focus on the kiss as your releases crashed through you. your lips parting into each other as you felt your juices squirt all over the bed as well as choso’s cum shooting deep into you. “fuckk baby” he moaned, his head falling back as he clenched his eyes shut. “m’sorry pa” you breathed, your hand slowly moving back to caress the back of his sweaty neck.

“i know mama, jus don’t do it again”

bonus!!

you practically sprinted into the house, your slides flying off your feet as you went straight to your room to your boyfriend. choso was just getting out of the shower, towel wrapped tightly around his wet, muscular body as he used another towel to dry his hair. “baby baby baby baby babyyyyy” a smirk grew on his face at your excitement, his tongue swiping over his pink lips as he gave you a deep “hmm” you skipped towards him, your hands behind your back as you looked up at your beautiful boyfriend.

“lemme see mama” he said, a chuckle erupting from his chest as he watched how quickly you pulled your phone from behind your back. choso inspected your screen, scrolling through the different grades you’ve been getting in each of your classes. “an A in anatomy, A in psych, A in sociology, ooouuu a C in stats? wassup wit that i thought we was doing well?” choso gave you a confused look, waiting for you to let him know what was going on. you sighed, eyes reverting to the ground. choso opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the sight of your latest exam from your stats class. the big 95% being exposed to him in red ink.

a smile grew on your face as you spoke. “he said he was a little behind on grades so once this is in i should have a B!” a smile spread to choso’s face now, his big hands grabbing at your waist before giving you a light kiss on the lips. “m’proud of you, good job” a hint of mischief twinkled in your eyes as you gave your boyfriend and expecting look. “sooooo….can we?” a chuckle flew from his chest as he gave you a sexy smirk, his pearly white teeth peaking from his lips as he looked you up and down. “on your back mama, spread your legs real wide f’me” his deep voice rang in your ears, making you move almost instantly towards the bed.

you quickly removed your pants and panties before laying on your back in just your pretty pink crop top. choso made his way to his dresser, pulling out the black vibrator he promised to use on you if you got all your grades up. he slowly walked towards you on the edge of the bed, his towel wrapped securely around his waist as he leaned his body over yours, his hands right next to both sides of your head as he leaned down to plant wet kisses on your neck. “been working hard, huh mama? been doin all your work like daddy said?”

you quickly nod your head yes, your eyes already rolling just from the sound of his deep voice. “yes sir” choso slowly kissed down your body, moving to his knees until he was face to face with your glistening pussy. “what’s this for baby?” he asked, the sound of the vibrator powering on making your walls clench in anticipation. “f-for being a good girl” choso lowered his mouth to your clit, letting his wide tongue run up and down your folds before moving two of his fingers towards your entrance. he lowered the vibrator down until it was only mere centimeters away from your clit.

“that’s right ma. s’for being a good girl”

[silkscream]

CHAPTER 3: TOO SOFT TO CHEW

ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader

There’s a nasty thought in the back of his mind that festers every time he thinks about how much his skin longs to be in contact with yours. That someday, this fact will come back to bite him in the ass, that maybe he’s letting his guard down too much.

But that’s a problem for another day.

ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: smut (18+ mdni), bratty satoru, big angst, angry sex, oral sex (m receiving)

ੈ✩ wc: 3.3k

ੈ✩ a/n: i kind of hate how short this chapter is but it's a primer for the hell that breaks loose in later chapters. hope yall are enjoying kiss kiss kiss

playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist

September, 2008

The way Satoru wants you makes your head spin. Your encounters are irregular and almost always in secret. Satoru likes to show you different spots around town, secret havens where he doesn’t have to worry about getting interrupted. This is what he tells you – he doesn’t want to waste a minute with you. You believe him.

It gets unnerving when he begins to take you while you’re both in school. Sometimes in a single-stall bathroom, once in a supply closet. Every time, he makes you cum, and after you’re both spent, you walk back to class together without a word. He doesn’t touch you otherwise.

It contrasts the clingy Satoru that you get at home. He’s touchy, annoyingly so, as if he can’t stand to not be tethered to you for more than two minutes. He is infinitely suffocating and you are too infatuated to care.

When he’s entangled with you in his bed, you ask him a question that guts him.

“Do you think staying like this is a good idea?”

“What do you mean?” Satoru mumbles sleepily. “You wanna get out of bed?”

“No, I mean, this,” you make a vague gesture, “I just… figure that when we go off to different colleges it’ll be harder. To, um, hang out.”

“Huh? What college are you going to?”

You know he doesn’t mean it rudely, like the thought of you investing in higher education was something implausible. You think that maybe he hadn’t thought that far into the future when it came to the two of you together. It makes you ache regardless.

You tell him about the university you got into that was able to give you a scholarship. He looks at you like you have three heads.

“Don’t you want to go to Jujutsu Tech with me?” he asks. 

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you have a technique.”

There’s an awkward silence between you. The air shifts. He pulls you a bit closer, has his hand cupping your jaw. 

“Satoru– I’m not going to be a sorcerer–”

“Why not?” he yawns. “You could get in, easily. Especially if I have anything to do with it. And Shoko could teach you a thing or two—”

“Who said I wanted to become a sorcerer?” you blurt.

Satoru looks at you in disbelief with a hint of betrayal behind his eyes. As if what you say is preposterous, unheard of. Because where would you be if not by his side?

He argues with you about this. It makes your blood warm. The thought of having to follow him around. Forever stuck in his shadow. He was already blessed by heavenly bodies, Six Eyes and all. You were nothing.

You could never compare to the inherent invincibility of his cursed technique. No one truly could. Knowing how late your technique manifested makes you feel even more inferior. With your status in the world, a maid’s daughter, there was no point in becoming a pawn in the Jujutsu world. How would you make a career? How could you ever be strong enough to save anyone? And if you died, you’d only leave behind your mother. 

The wedge between you deepens after that. You realize how far away you are from Satoru on paper despite him aching for your touch, close enough to you right now as his breath licks your face.

There’s no resolution. It snowballs into something worse. This looming threat is above your heads now, a slap of reality about how different the two of you are. You realize it would be convenient for Satoru if the thing between the two of you ended. It wouldn’t matter to him – he had everything. He always would. You only had your heart and your dignity. 

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Satoru sighs against your temple. “We’ll figure it out. I really do think you should come to Jujutsu Tech.”

He shuts you up with his mouth, with his hands circling your thighs like he always does, the way you always let him.

November, 2008

You’re getting better at your technique. You think you could do just fine if Satoru wasn’t constantly breathing down your neck about it. Especially when he does stupid things to challenge your ability – absentmindedly burning himself on a lighter when he hits a joint, sucking in bruises into your skin that turn dark purple. You’re able to heal it all, but he knows you’re capable of more.

“C’mon. Hit me again.”

“You won’t even let me hit you!”

“Maybe you aren’t trying hard enough. I even let my Infinity down for you.”

Truthfully, Satoru lets his Infinity down for you all the time. It’s as easy as breathing to be around you, and he knows you don’t have the capacity to harm him. There’s a nasty thought in the back of his mind that festers every time he thinks about how much his skin longs to be in contact with yours. That someday, this fact will come back to bite him in the ass, that maybe he’s letting his guard down too much.

But that’s a problem for another day.

You groan in frustration. Satoru’s had you in his backyard for at least two hours, attempting basic combat with cursed energy. Despite claiming that he wants to train you to at least be able to fend for yourself, you think he just enjoys playing with you like a dog. 

“Why are we even doing this?” you complain.

“Even if you don’t end up a big-shot sorcerer, I feel like you should still be able to exorcise a curse,” he shrugs. You’re winded and Satoru looks more than fine. Even after all the athletics, he doesn’t have a hair out of place or a wrinkle in his T-shirt. 

“But my technique is for healing.”

“You have incredible cursed energy output, though,” Satoru says. “It’s why I could never believe you were just a Window.”

The flicker of Satoru’s cursed energy brightens, you notice. You blink and see a dark figure emerge from the side of the house. One with fox-like eyes and a warm smile.

“Satoru! What have you done to our girl?” Suguru bellows. He holds a bag of daifuku in hand, giving you one without asking before Satoru grabs the package greedily. 

“You know I like roughing her up,” Satoru shrugs. “She’s a big girl, she needs to be able to scare away creepy men, y’know?”

“Like who, you? You don’t have to talk about me like I’m not here, dumbass,” you chastise. 

“You could never get rid of me, Twigs.” He grins despite the cheekful of mochi. You and Suguru share a look of distaste. 

Satoru agrees to a snack break, if only to eat most of the daifuku while you make tea for the three of you. Suguru helps you prepare and clean up. It surprises you.

“Thank you, Geto-san.”

He tells you to call him by his first name and you try to convince yourself it’s nothing.

For some reason, Satoru is more rambunctious than usual. He almost always is whenever Suguru is around as if he’s waiting impatiently for something to happen. Waspish. Suguru often calls him a little brat. It’s nothing you could ever say to him, not in a way that has the same meaning. He’s the only one who can tame the beast. Satoru sees Suguru as his other half. Where one goes, the other follows. 

In the grass, they are an ouroboros of limbs as they brawl. Milky flesh flushed pink, gruff grunts and giggles. You imagine yourself between the two boys. You wonder about the taste of Suguru’s skin. If Satoru knows. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did. 

You watch them in awe. Two godlings entwined. 

It’s not enough to want to be in between them — and you know better, because you will never be them. 

“Tap out, Sugu,” Satoru whines. “I’m bored. Let’s train Twigs again.”

“She clearly doesn’t want to,” Suguru remarks, pushing Satoru off like a pest. He wipes the sweat off his forehead with his shirt, exposing his abdomen underneath. You feel like you should look away. “You like sitting in the audience, right, princess?”

Satoru grins at your reaction to princess. You hope the idea of calling you that himself doesn’t get into his head. 

“C’mon, Suguru. Throw her one of your curses. Maybe something without too many legs. She hates those.”

“Absolutely not,” you interject, crossing your arms.

“Okay, then heal me,” Suguru chuckles. He shows you a scratch on his forearm. “This motherfucker fights like a cat.”

“Acts like one, too,” you grumble. “A very annoying one that always wants attention.”

You heal him within seconds and he’s good as new. He holds your hand after, just for a moment. When you blink towards Satoru’s direction, he drops it. 

“You staying for dinner?” Satoru asks. He doesn’t look at you. He isn’t asking you. His gaze is on Suguru instead. 

“Nah, I promised Shoko I’d help her get decorations for the party on Friday,” Suguru answers. He turns to you. “You’re coming, right?”

“Uh—”

“To Shoko’s birthday party. I thought she invited you.”

“I wouldn’t know,” you shrug. Satoru is quiet, pretending to be distracted by his phone. “Satoru?”

“Oh, huh?” He looks up, feigning oblivion. “Yeah. You should come.” 

Maybe he’d forgotten to tell you about it. You swear he has some form of ADHD from how scatterbrained he is. 

Then again, you think about all the time you spend with Satoru. You’re always alone with him, with Suguru as an occasional buffer when he wants to be. The thought of Satoru’s arm around you at a party excites you. Would he hold your hand? Would he introduce you to other people?

“It’ll be, uh, here,” he mutters. “At nine.”

Oh.

“The theme is Scorpio, so wear something hot and dark,” Suguru winks. 

“A sexy little number with a bunch of legs and a stinger, too,” Satoru quips.

satoru: skip next period with me

satoru: wanna kiss u

One thing you’ve known about Satoru since he was a child is that he is annoying when he doesn’t get attention. 

You keep to yourself during the school day, not bothering to see him for lunch in the courtyard like you do every other day. You ignore his texts. You don’t look at him in class.

It’s the same behavior towards him from the last semester. But that was before he started fucking you. When he sears his gaze into your head during class and you don’t even bother to look up, he feels fucking insane. Of course, he won’t rest until he corners you.

He finds you later under a tree, cradled by roots. You look so peaceful that he almost feels bad about interrupting you, but he’s been bereft of your attention all day.

“You done giving me the silent treatment yet?” His voice booms above you. He tilts his head at you coyly. Hands shoved in his front pockets. 

You squint up at him from your position, startled by his arrival. You’re attempting to read your book in the grass, which isn’t half-dead yet. You don’t say anything as he sits besides you and fiddles with a clementine in his large hands. He peels the skin and feeds you a slice. 

“Wow,” Satoru scoffs, only mildly affronted. “So you’ll take my snacks but not text me back.”

“You offered,” you shrug. 

You let him kiss your neck, feather-soft as he pushes your hair to your back. You stay still and continue to read, despite his distractions. You try to blame the shiver down your spine on the cool gust of wind that passes and not Satoru’s tongue on your skin. He’s obnoxious when he indulges, especially when it comes to you.

“Are you mad at me?” he whines in your ear. Teeth on your earlobe.

“No.”

“Yes, you are,” he grins. “That’s why you’ve been ignoring me all day. What is it, baby? Wanna sit on my face about it?”

You roll your eyes, even though heat flashes in your center at his vulgar words. Satoru never took you seriously, even when you were kids. It seemed that he wasn’t going to start even now that you’re intimate together.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the party?” you ask. 

He looks at you and raises a brow, casually slipping another clementine slice into his mouth. He shrugs.

“Slipped my mind, I guess.”

“You’re hosting it, Satoru. You didn’t think to tell me?”

“I’m sorry. I just assumed you’d be there anyway since it’s at my house. It didn’t occur to me that you needed a formal invitation.”

It’s ironic. Because of all people, you would understand what it’s like to be separate from others, and he knew that. You never belonged anywhere, therefore you could never assume you were welcome. You were only at the Gojo residence because his family allowed you to be. You’re around Satoru all the time because he lets you. 

While Satoru has had his fair share of teenage hedonism, with Suguru and Shoko, you were never a part of it despite your proximity to his family. He always prefers you alone.

It stings. You wonder if he knows or if he’s just careless. You assume Satoru has never had to care about anyone other than himself, anyway. 

Unfortunately, he’s good at soothing your wounds.

You try to resist him, but it ends with you wrestling him to the ground when he tries to touch your thigh. His arms are pinned above his head and he groans when you grind against him. Already, he’s half-hard.

“Look at you,” Satoru whistles. “Brave girl.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me. You know how.”

You glare at him. You know that he’s taunting you to get what he wants. You also know that trying to resist him makes his dick even harder. 

He squirms in your grasp for a second, chuckling as you struggle with him. He can overpower you, easily. He’s arrogant enough to, but he’s enjoying your irritability at the moment. 

His laugh makes you tick, makes you claw at the front of his slacks and unzip them to palm his hard cock. You slide down his briefs to swirl your tongue along his slit, tasting salt.

“Jesus,” Satoru moans, surprised.

You’ve barely started, but it’s easy for you to work your hand up and down his shaft because of how wet he already is. It would fill your chest with pride if you weren’t so pissed off with him. 

You choke on his length when he bucks his hips up. He mumbles an apology when he feels your hand grip his hip. His grunts spur you on, as do his praises, the growl of his words arousing you. Satoru tries to grab a fistful of your hair but you swat him away.

“Fuck,” he groans. “I can’t believe – shit – you’re sucking me off in public. What’s gotten into you?”

“You talk too much,” you mutter, sliding him out of your mouth and replacing it with your hands. You feel him twitch in your palms. He’s writhing – a young god underneath you. For once, you feel a little powerful.

“You little slut,” he hisses. “Fucked you so many times that I’ve completely defiled you.”

“God, I might just sit on your face to get you to shut the fuck up.”

He moans at that. He could flip you over and fuck you senseless with how strong he is, but he doesn’t care to. When your mouth latches onto his cock again, he doesn’t care about anything except your tongue.

When you squeeze the base of him tightly, Satoru fucking whines.

“Fuck, fuck– I’m so close. Wait, stop–”

He pulls at your hair but you continue, sloppily lapping at him with your hot tongue, making him shudder. 

“Baby, wanna be inside you–”

Too damn bad.

You can tell how close he is because of his inability to speak. Instead, it’s heavy breaths, chest rising and falling as he grips your hair harder than before. The sound of his groans makes your cunt ache. 

“Oh, fuck–”

And then you let go of him. 

He stares at you in disbelief. Something surges inside him – a flame. It isn’t exactly anger. Perhaps something more devious. He really wants to ruin you now. 

Your mouth is red and raw. You blink at Satoru, half-expecting him to lash out. In his own way, he does, with his tongue down your throat and his hand around your neck. There’s a flash around you. When you open your eyes, you’re in his bed. 

You whine when he tugs your blouse down roughly, his teeth biting into your shoulder hard. Canines breaking skin. You’re all red for him, flushed and dripping. 

“Satoru!”

“Payback,” he mutters, before pushing you onto your side. His cock is still hard. It throbs against you as he slides it in between your thighs. He can feel you through your panties, how wet you are for him.

“I’m not mad at you for edging me,” he murmurs into your ear. He grips your hair like before, forcing your neck to stretch, all exposed for him. “Did you know I used to dream about you sucking me off outside like that? On school grounds?”

“You’re such a fucking pervert,” you rasp.

“Me?” he laughs. It feels unkind. “You’re the one who was gagging on my cock after ignoring me all day. How is that any sort of punishment?”

“Because I didn’t let you cum.” You grit your teeth.

“So mean,” he taunts. You squeal when he reaches underneath your skirt and presses a finger onto your sensitive clit, pinching. “I’ll make you cum. Might not let you stop cumming.”

He slides your panties to the side and fucks you with your back to his chest. Satoru intends to keep his promise, but he can’t exactly do that when he’s so fucking close. Your edging him had him riled up, a fever with aching limbs.

He splits you open like this. Deeper than usual, curiously, despite this being a recurrent position of yours. Satoru thinks about you ass up and face down, whining into the mattress. For now, he likes spooning you. It’s lazy and rough at the same time.

He holds out like he means to – makes you cum on his cock twice before he spills himself onto the backs of your thighs. You don’t let him kiss you once during it, your last form of protest. He settles himself by biting at your neck like a wolf taking a lamb. He eats your cunt for a while, too, licking up your sweetness down to the last drop until you’re begging him to stop.

When you both lay there in silence, Satoru thinks it’s odd how quiet you are. He thought that he fucked the attitude out of you by now, but when he turns his head to meet yours, you’re staring blankly at the ceiling.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks.

He means the sex, so you shake your head. You aren’t sure what to make of the gaping cavern inside of your chest after it, though—still feeling separate from him despite being intertwined. 

“You could do anything you wanted to me and I think I’d let you.”

He’s quiet. He hates that hearing it turns him on because this isn’t pillow talk. He isn’t sure what it is.

“You like that, don’t you?” you ask softly. You turn to face him now, your eyes dim. 

He does. He wants to possess you, hold you in the palm of his hand so no one else can. So no one else will. But he doesn’t answer you, only swallows the lump in his throat.

“I like you,” Satoru breathes. He wants to keep you. He’s selfish like that.

“I like you, too, Satoru,” you say. 

You sound almost dejected. He doesn’t pry. 

[sehunniepotwrites]

WITH YOU | MK.L | THREE

SYNOPSIS. There are many things Mark Lee wants to do with you. He wants to walk you home. He wants to dive into the deep blue sea with you. He wants to go on a drive with you at his side. But mostly, this crazy, head over heels in love boy just wants to make it with you.

PAIRING. mark lee x fem!reader

GENRE. college!au, friends-to-lovers!au, tooth-rotting fluff, humor WARNINGS. profanity, sulky!mark because he failed his exam and lost a game, mention of (non-alcoholic) drinks, mentions of creeper guy that doesn't get a damn hint

WORD COUNT. 1.2k+

DISCLAIMER. This is work of fiction. I do not own the people/characters or concepts I have written about. You cannot translate or copy my work. © sehunniepotwrites, 2023

I. WALK YOU HOME | II. DIVE INTO YOU | III. DRIVE | IV. MAKE IT WITH YOU

Mark Lee having a bad day was a rare commodity. The athlete was seldom seen with his brown eyes aimed to the floor and a frown stitched onto his face. No, he was usually spotted with a bright sparkle in his irises, a grin that was way too wide for his small and handsome face, his hockey gear tucked in under his arm, and most importantly, you. 

Maybe that was the stark difference between Mark’s drastic moods. You weren’t present at the home game that just finished. On top of it being midterms week, an ultimate stressor on its own, you skipped out on today’s game in favor of finishing a midterm project with a partner that may or may not have been putting some moves on you. Hearing that news after basically bombing his Biology exam that was worth twenty perfect of his grade just added onto his sullen behavior. Instead of focusing on the game, Mark’s mind was void of the strategized plays and off the ice, floating all the way down to the campus library–where you were.

Mark really shouldn’t be upset. He should’ve been proud that you put your grades first instead of a game. After all, you weren’t a student athlete; this game shouldn’t mean a thing to you.  But it was his game. You were his lucky charm. You always have been and you always will be. 

Sure, others showed up to the games with his number painted onto their cheeks in their university colors and poster boards that displayed his name but they weren’t you. You weren’t the one in the crowd with the pretty, mismatched ribbons in their hair or screaming his name as he scored a goal. You weren’t there, drowning in his away game jersey like you usually were. You were drowning in school work with a guy that would not leave you alone. 

“It’s fine,” you said. “I just have to stick it out until the end of the week and it’ll be okay. I notified my professor and we’re meeting up in their office so I’m not left alone with the guy.”

“Yeah but–”

“Go and score a goal for me,” you hushed Mark, pressing a manicured finger to his lips when he tried to push back. “Promise?”

Mark’s frown grew. “But–”

“Ah,” you replied, adding more pressure to his lips. Raising your free hand, you brought your pinky towards him. “Promise?”

Mark sighed in defeat, linking his pinky with yours. He shook your intertwined hands. “Promise.”

Knowing you won, you grinned. “That’s my Marky. Now, go! I’ll see you tomorrow! You’ll be fine without me.”

But he wasn’t. 

And it’s sad how reliant on you Mark became. Before you, he could fully function on his own. Now? Mark was seen with you more often than not. You were like an extension of him, something he couldn’t live without. His teammates and friends noticed it; Haechan wouldn’t let Mark go a day without teasing him on the ice. Johnny, who wasn’t on the team, often made a lot of noise during games to let Mark know exactly where the two of you sat. And Jaehyun, bless his soul, always explained the technicalities of the sport so you understood each and every play-by-play in order to cheer Mark on.

He wasn’t fine before, during, or after the game and all he could think about was you. Nothing else mattered but you. 

To top off this horrible day, they lost the game. There were definitely other factors that contributed to the loss but the most defining one was that Mark’s head wasn’t in it. He tried taking your mind off of you but quickly deemed it impossible. Even after he showered, lugged his sorry ass out of the hockey arena and into his car, his mind was still glued to the thought of you. Driving aimlessly around campus didn’t help and before he knew it, Mark’s hands fiddled with his dashboard screen until your number was dialed.

Two rings later and he heard your voice. “Hey,” you greeted, voice booming from the speakers. Your voice was soft unlike the other times you answered the phone–a lot gentler, like he needed to be approached with caution.

“Hi,” Mark mustered out before going silent again. All the two of you could hear were the sounds on the road.

“What’s going on?” you asked with that same soothing voice. 

You knew what happened. You weren’t there to witness the losing game but word travels fast. Johnny and Jaehyun called you shortly after the game, relaying an abbreviated version of the game while escaping the disappointed crowd. They made it known that Mark was off his game the entire time. Your friends made a light joke, saying it was because you weren’t there, and pointing out how he seemed different whenever you were in attendance. You brushed off their teasing but assured them you would check on your best friend. 

But despite knowing, you wanted the news to come from Mark. If he didn’t want to talk about it, that was okay with you too. You could practically hear him shrugging as he replied, “Dunno, I just wanted to see you.”

Noticing that Mark was so close to shutting down completely, you answered, “Well, I’m always down to see you. Care for a drive, Marky?”

He caught the sound of rustling from your ride and figured you were rushing to get ready before he arrived. The arena was a mere seven minute drive from your housing complex, not giving you much time to get yourself together at all. Prior to him calling, you were most likely nestled up under your comforter, adorning your favorite pair of sweats and oversized hoodie to keep you warm. Mark wanted to say that you didn’t have to change, but knowing his best friend, you’d probably ignore whatever he said. 

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I need.”

“I’ll see you in a few then,” you said with finality before hanging up the phone.

A few minutes later, Mark pulled up to your complex, only to find you already downstairs. You didn’t come empty handed, the drink tumbler he always used when he was over at your place in one hand and your tumbler in the other. He reached over the console to open the passenger door for you and you immediately slid in, handing him his cup. 

“Hey you,” you smiled at him before pressing a short kiss to his cheek. Whereas he caught you off guard the last time you went to the beach, his soft lips grazing against your cheek, it was your turn to surprise him. The action shocked him so much, he almost dropped the steaming drink in hand.

“H-hey,” Mark stuttered a bit pathetically, swiftly turning his attention to his tumbler. Bringing it up to his lips, he tasted his favorite comfort drink–hot cocoa with whip cream and marshmallows. The temperature was a bit too hot, the liquid burning his tongue after having a lick of melted whip cream, but he didn’t dare complain. He took another sip of it before putting it down and shifting the gear to drive. 

The drive itself wasn’t necessary to Mark, he already felt a bit better in your presence as you buckled your seatbelt. 

It’s you—you’re what he needed. You’re what he wanted. And you’re the one person that would always bring a smile to his face. It didn’t feel right to admit it to you now, not when he was just sulking in all of his sorrows. Maybe another time or place. But for now, Mark was content with you in his passenger seat and his hands on the wheel, ready to go anywhere as long as you were at his side.

AUTHOR’S NOTE. hi, it's been a while, hasn't it? i'm slowly writing again, starting with finishing all the drafts that have been sitting in my docs for a hot second! my writing style's change a bit so don't mind the stylistic changes (if you even notice it). i apologize it's short but i didn't have much planned for this one. it's just marky sitting in his thoughts.

TAGLIST. @johtenrecs @bat-shark-repellant  @bebsky @donutswithjaminthemiddle @suhnnyskhies @baekhyuns-lipchain @emmybyeakitty  @sokkigarden @iwishiwasthemoontonight @stvrrynight @ppangjae @luvenshiti @ferxanda @jenosuh​ @mxrcayong-main @lebrookestore​ @the-universe-in-you-jjh @planetkiimchi @hannie-dul-set @kdyism @lovesuhng

reply to this post or send an ask to be added to the taglist!

© sehunniepotwrites, 2023

[justlookfrightened]

A trip back in time

Filling a prompt from @notenoughgatorade: The haus gang goes to a renfaire

King Richards Faire opens the weekend we get back to Samwell!!!!

Bitty had no idea what King Richard’s Faire was, much less why Holster was assaulting the group chat with four exclamation points.

Ransom, however, appeared to get it.

Road trip! Ransom responded.

Bitty thought about asking what this was, where it was or why Ransom and Holster wanted to road trip there. He thought about asking, but doing so in the group chat would be letting himself in for even more humiliation, proving he was different than the rest of the team in yet another way.

He was small, he was southern, he didn’t play hockey until high school, he was gay, and oh yeah, he was terrified of being checked, which just happened to be a big part of the game he played to allow himself to afford going to college. And now he didn’t know what King Richard’s Faire was?

Bitty muted the group chat and shoved his phone into his shorts pocket; dinner was on the table, and Mama got cross if he was texting during dinner anyway.

Maybe he’d feel better with some food in his belly. That would probably make his headache go away. And maybe no one else would respond, it would go from a Haus road trip to a Ransom and Holster road trip, and Bitty would never have to betray his ignorance.

After dinner, he told Mama he had to start packing, and headed to his room. It wasn’t exactly true; he’d left all his winter stuff at Samwell, in the room Johnsn had deeded to him — dibbed to him? Was that a word? — which meant that he would be with the team pretty much 24-7.

And not just with the team. With the core of the team, the team leaders, the heart of the team, Coach would call them. Jack, the captain; Ransom and Holster, the top D-pair; and Shitty, who — well, everyone loved Shitty and was exasperated by Shitty in equal measure, but Shitty did seem to keep everyone in line when it came it social justice kinds of things.

It was Shitty who first adopted Bitty last year, followed by Ransom and Holster. Bitty had been a little afraid of the D-men, to be honest, especially about them finding out he was gay. But they loved his pies, and they had turned out to be like big brothers he never knew he wanted.

Even Jack had come around to accept Bitty’s presence by the end of the season. If Jack wished Bitty spent less time in the Haus kitchen, Bitty was pretty sure it was only because he was hardass when it came to sugar, thinking less was always better.

Now, a week before he was set to head back north, he was starting to wonder whether living in the Haus was such a good idea. He hadn’t skated since the game where he got hurt (got bowled over by a behemoth, lost his helmet and crashed head first on the ice — a sequence he saw in his mind every time someone talked about him “getting hurt”). He had no idea what kind of a player he would be when he started practice, but he suspected that all the work Jack had done with him in all those early mornings had been undone.

How much patience would his teammates have?

Bitty pulled out his big duffle bag and started filling it with T-shirts and shorts from his clean laundry basket, then, once it looked like he had actually been packing, flopped on his bed and pulled out his phone.

Jack had chimed in next, with a reminder: We have practice that Monday

That was hopeful. Trust Jack to focus on hockey and why they were due in Samwell at the beginning of August.

Aw, c’mon, Cap! Shitty had contributed. It’ll be a team bonding experience.

Bitty knew then that he would have to find out about this King Richard’s Faire thing. If Shitty was calling Jack “Cap” it was all over.

Ugh.

Could be fun, Lardo had chipped in. Some people I know from the art department are working there on the weekends.

Lardo. Lardo — not at all an athletic bro — could be be Bitty’s salvation.

Bitty found her contact.

Help! I don’t know what King Richard’s Faire is! Why does everyone want to go?

By the end of the evening, Lardo had explained the concept of a Renaissance Faire to Bitty — food and drinks and jousts and plays and shopping and lots of people in costume and knights and ladies and fairies and even peasants — and it sounded like it might actually be fun.

It also didn’t sound like something that most of the sports bros Bitty had grown up with would do.

It sounds kind of — I know I’m not supposed to say this but kind of girly, Bitty said. And like, something maybe the theater kids would do? And maybe the stoners who played D and D?

At that, Bitty’s phone rang.

“Do you even know the Samwell Men’s Hockey team?” Lardo asked in lieu of saying hello. “Holster would be a musical theater guy if he could carry a tune, or dance, or act. Ransom is like crazy smart, and he needs stuff completely out of his zone to get him to relax. I’m gonna have to do my best to keep Shitty from dressing a serving wench — or maybe I won’t, the actual serving wenches will find it hilarious.”

“And Jack?” Bitty asked. “I mean, even he didn’t  think it was a terrible idea. I don’t think. You’re going to tell me he liked the history of it all?”

“Not really,” Lardo said. “Although he does like pointing out all the anachronisms, including, y’know, food safety standards and age limits for buying alcohol.”

“You’ve been with him before?” Bitty asked. Because he didn’t remember being invited to such an outing last year. Lardo hadn’t even been in the country.

“This one is only in the fall, but there’s another one in the spring,” Lardo said. “Shitty and Jack and I went at the end of my first year. It was fun. You’ll like it. I promise.”

So Bitty added his approval to the group chat, hoping his, Sounds like fun! Sounded enthusiastic enough.

Bitty didn’t precisely forget about the renaissance fair for the rest of the week, but he put it out of his mind while reassuring his mother that he had enough underwear and yes, he intended to go with this haircut and no, he didn’t want to get the top cut short.

Returning to the Haus ended up helping put some of Bitty’s fears to rest. The guys in the Haus welcomed him back with open arms. The complimented his haircut, pretended to be impressed with the development of his muscles — with no skating, he had plenty of time to spend in the gym over the summer — and followed his instructions to get a “welcome back” dinner together, punctuated with a birthday pie for Jack.

Even Jack smiled when he saw Bitty, and took the case of beer Shitty had thrust at him to the basement fridge with no complaints. 

Before bed that night, before she disappeared to sleep on the air mattress in Shitty’s room, Lardo told Bitty not to worry about a costume. “You can wear a pair of your athletic leggings, and I brought a big shirt you can wear like a tunic. I don’t suppose you have boots?”

“Boots?” Bitty asked. “Costume? You didn’t say I had to wear a costume.”

“You don’t have to,” Lardo said. “But I’m wearing one — like what I brought for you — and Shitty’s going as a pirate. I bet Random and Holster have costumes.”

“Really?” Bitty said.

“Holster said something about royalty,” Lardo said. “You know how over the top they are.”

The next morning, Bitty pulled on a pair of black leggings and a white T-shirt before Lardo knocked on the door and handed him an oversized ruffled shirt. 

“Theater department costume room,” she explained. She looked at him with a critical eye. “Do you have a vest or anything? Or a belt?”

“I have a belt,” Bitty said. 

“Give it to me,” she said, then wrapped it a little below Bitty’s waist, blousing the fabric of Bitty’s shirt artfully.

By the time the group assembled next to Holster’s old minivan, everyone was in costume except Jack. Shitty, as promised, was a pirate, complete with an eye patch and knee-high boots. Holster was indeed in cheap-looking king costume, probably from a Halloween catalog, and Ransom was an improbable queen. Lardo was dressed much like Bitty, although she had motorcycle boots and had painted her face and glued crystals under and next to her eyes.

“What are you?” Bitty asked.

“A fae,” Lardo said.

Jack wore his usual form-fitting jeans and a snug black T-shirt. When Bitty arrived, he thought Jack’s look lingered on him longer than usual, and fancied that Jack was suppressing the urge to shake his head at the silliness of it all.

“You couldn’t even try to get into the spirit of the day?” Holster asked, sliding into the driver’s seat. 

Jack shrugged.

“This is me in the spirit,” he said. “I’m here.”

Ransom called shotgun, and Shitty and Lardo dove for the back, leaving the middle seats for Jack and Bitty.

“I think you look fine,” Bitty murmured as he leaned over to fasten his seatbelt. “I think I’m kind of ridiculous.”

“You look fine,” Jack returned, giving Bitty a reassuring smile. “You’ll fit right in. You don’t think Lardo would steer you wrong, do you?”

“What are you looking forward to the most?” Bitty asked. “I was thinking about the food — they say the turkey legs are the size of my head! Plenty of protein, I guess.”

“Almost,” Jack said. “But you know a lot of the food is modern. They even have soda.”

Jack seemed personally affronted by that.

“Not like they can serve mead to ten-year-olds,” Ransom pointed out from the front seat.

With the bantering that went on in the car, Bitty realized that he needn’t have worried that he didn’t know what would happen at a renaissance fair. With all the talk about what they were looking forward to, Bitty was pretty clear on what he would find: A lot of people pretending to be in Merrie Olde Englande, complete with extra e’s at the end, watching all kinds of performances from singing to animal acts, plus stage-fighting with swords and jousting on horseback. There were games of skill — mostly throwing things at targets, it sounded like — and simple, non-motorized rides like swings.

Lardo wanted to look at the artisans’ stalls — she was especially interested in the blacksmithing demonstration — and Shitty and the rest of the boys were looking forward to the tavern, and the serving wenches.

“They’ll put you out on your ass if you don’t behave,” Lardo warned them.��

“We always behave,” Shitty said. “At least when it comes to not being disgusting pigs to women who are just trying to do their jobs, right, boys?

Ransom and Holster rolled their eyes, but agreed, and Bitty had a moment of being proud of the team he had become part of.

While the food would not be strictly period-accurate, Bitty was looking forward to trying some of the meat pies. He’d been wanting to incorporate more savories into his baking.

Once they piled out of the car and made it through the admission booths, Bitty found his eyes darting from the crowd, full of archers and knights and ladies and nobles, and, yes, woodland fairies with antlers on their heads and elves with long pointed ears.

He couldn’t always tell who was a guest and who was a cast member, although he assumed the jester who juggled while he walked and the man in doublet and hose standing on a box and declaiming poetry both worked there.

His costume did not stand out at all — if anything, it was a little basic, but there were plenty of people like Jack who hadn’t dressed up.

The booths and stalls and signposts were bedecked with flowers and ribbons, and the signs were hand painted and not always easy to read. Bitty found his head starting to swim, until he recognized the smell of baking pastry, and beef.

There was a pie stall right next to the entrance, so Bitty got in line. It wasn’t until he was close to the front that he realized most of his group had melted away. Only Jack stood next to him.

“You wanted pie too?” Bitty said.

“I’m holding out for a turkey leg,” Jack said. “Maybe we can get one after you get your pie? Then walk around and eat and figure out what we want to do? Lardo and Shitty said they were going to Artisan Alley, wherever that is, and I think Ransom and Holster said something about a strongman competition?”

“That would appeal to them,” Bitty agreed. 

He ended up with two pies — chicken and beef, with vegetables and gravy — and a plastic tankard of ginger beer, which he suspected was really just ginger ale.

He and Jack made  their way through the fairgrounds to the stand that sold turkey legs, noting places they’d like to go back to. It was never too early for Christmas presents, and there was a woolen shop that had shawls he thought Mama would like, right at the top of the row of shopping stalls, and Jack said he wanted to try his hand at throwing a wooden ball to knock down pins.

The line for turkey legs was long, and by the time they got to the front, he and Jack had finished both pies, trading bites. They were hot, which was good, but Bitty thought he could make better gravy, especially for the chicken, and come up with better seasonings. The pastry cases were crumbly, rather than flaky, but Bitty supposed they had to be sturdy enough for people to eat with their hands as they wandered. 

“I thought they were good,” Jack said, popping the last bit of the beef pie into his mouth and sucking the remaining gravy off his thumb. “You want a turkey leg?”

“I couldn’t,” Bitty said. “Not yet.”

“You can have some of mine,” Jack promised.

Once they were again provisioned, they set off for the tournament field, where Holster and Ransom were indeed engaged in a contest to see who could lift the heaviest log. They did well, with Jack and Bitty cheering as loudly as they could, but a huge man wearing nothing but knee breeches and an open leather vest won.

“He was a ringer,” said Holster, breathing hard, as he pulled his crown back on.

He looked at Jack, tearing a mouthful of meat off the turkey leg, and said, “You almost fit right in. You know they rent costumes, right?”

“I’m fine,” Jack said.

Bitty, eating the meat he had pulled off the turkey leg with his fingers, said, “I dunno, Jack. You’d make a great Prince Charming.”

Because he looked like every Prince Charming in every Disney movie Bitty had ever seen, with his dark hair and blue eyes and pale skin. Not because Bitty thought of Jack as his own Prince Charming. That way, he knew, madness lay.

“So what do you think, Bitty?” Ransom asked. “Is it everything we promised?”

“So far,” Bitty said. “But all I’ve really done is eat and watch you try to pick up a tree. You want to find Lardo and Shitty?”

Horns blared, and Holster said, “The tournament’s starting. Let’s watch that, then see if we can find them before the Royal Parade at noon.”

“You guys go ahead,” Jack said. “I … want to see Lardo about something.”

Ransom and Holster stood on either side of Bitty, watching the knights on horseback thunder around the field, draped in colorful cloth matching  the flags the knights on their backs carried. Then the knights took long poles and they ran at each other, narrowly missing each time, while the crowd around the field cheered. Finally, the queen — seated in a raised pavilion on the other side of the field — declared a winner by dropping a scarf to one of the knights, and the horses left the field.

“That means they’re getting ready for the parade,” Holster said. “Let’s find the others.”

Shitty and Lardo were saving space near the top of Artisan Alley, right in front of the woolen shop. 

“You guys seen Jack?” Bitty asked. “He was looking for you.”

“He was at the leatherworker’s booth,” Shitty said. “Said he had something to show you, after the parade. But I thought he was going to meet us here.”

The same horns that had signaled the start of the tournament sounded again. There was a band coming, and a group of jugglers and acrobats, then all the knights riding slowly down the road, bowing to the people on each side.

At the end came the king and queen, seated on thrones on a horse-drawn float, preceded by ladies in their finery scattering flower petals.

Bitty finally caught sight of Jack on the other side of the road when the parade passed. He was still wearing the jeans and short black boots he’d started with, but he’d added a sleeveless dark blue tunic with a wide leather belt, and a blue, red and gold satiny cape.

“Good enough for you?” Jack asked, as the group crossed the dusty road, eyeing everyone before settling his gaze on Bitty.

“Oh, Jack, you know you didn’t have to,” Bitty said, suddenly feeling guilty in case he’d made Jack uncomfortable.

“But brah, you do look amazeballs,” Shitty said.

“Yeah, dude,” Ransom said. “Like, I have this whole costume on, and you add a shirt and a cape and somehow look better.”

Lardo just nodded in approval.

“So,” Holster said. “As your king, I declare Jack to be a noble of the realm. And I declare that it’s time for lunch.”

Holsted led the way to a restaurant that actually featured chairs and tables and food served on dishes, and everyone fell in. Jack and Bitty brought up the rear.

“The costume really does look good,” Bitty said. 

“I actually got the belt first,” he said. “I bought that. At the leather shop. The cape and the tunic I rented. But I got you something too.”

Jack pulled a satchel that was hidden under the cape forward and opened it, and took out a laced leather vest.

“It’s called a jerkin,” he said. 

Bitty almost snorted, but didn’t.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t say that in front of … anyone else here. But I thought it would look good with the shirt you have on. And then if you come to one these again, you’ll have something to start with.”

Jacks cheeks were pink when he finished his little speech.

“Jack,” Bitty said, feeling his own cheeks flame in response. “You really, really didn’t have to. You know that, right?”

But he was already pulling the vest on and tightening the laces, making a snug bodice to contrast with the billowy sleeves and collar. The shirttails almost looked like a skirt coming out from under his belt.

“What do you think?” Jack asked.

“I … really like it,” Bitty said. He felt less like a kid in a nightgown this way, more like a proper boy.

“You look good,” Jack said.

Then they went in to join the others, who had already ordered platter of such medieval fair as nachos and chicken fingers.

“Looking good, Bits,” Lardo said, when Bitty sat on the bench next to her.

The beer came by the pitcher, and Bitty indulged with his friends, and then joined them as they spent the next several hours laughing at a slapstick comedy show, getting their caricatures drawn in all sorts of combinations, and helping Holster choose the perfect sword to complement his costume.

Lardo came with him to buy a shawl for his mother, helping him choose a soft blue and gray pattern that she said went with his brown eyes.

“Your mother has your coloring, right?” Lardo asked. “This will look nice, then, Maybe not as nice as that jerkin, but …”

Bitty huffed and turned away in pretend annoyance. To be honest, he liked knowing Lardo agreed that it looked good. She wouldn’t lie about that.

“Can I ask you something?” he said, after he paid and they were on their way to join the group for the last joust of the day. “Do you know why Jack bought this for me?”

“Because he thought you’d like it?”

“Lardo, I’m serious. I saw what the prices were like in that shop. Why would he do that?”

“It’s not like he told me,” Lardo said. “But he did show it to me and ask if I thought it would fit. I think … he likes you, Bits, and he’s worried about you.”

Because Jack didn’t think he’d be able to play this season?

Lardo continued as though Bitty had voiced his question.

“He thought you seemed … nervous, I guess, about moving into the Haus, being the new guy, all of that,” Lardo said. “And this is a team bonding activity. Might as well dress the part.”

“Is that why he got himself a costume too?” 

“I guess,” Lardo said. “You could ask him.”

By the time the sun was sinking towards the west, the team was tired and cranky and ready to leave. Holster, who had partaken of much more beer than Jack, gave up the car keys without a fight (thank God, Bitty thought) and he and Ransom collapsed on top of each other in the back seat. Lardo and Shitty took the middle, leaving Bitty to ride shotgun while Jack drove.

The car was quiet, with most everybody sleeping or just looking out at the New England evening. Jack played what Bitty thought of as “dad rock” and hummed along, almost inaudibly, until Bitty said, “Lardo said you were worried about me.”

Jack made a noise that showed he heard, but didn’t answer.

“I’m sorry if you’ve been concerned,” Bitty said. “I’ll be alright.”

“I know,” Jack said. “But it’s nothing to apologize for. You’ll be fine, and if you’re not, I — we’ll all be here to support you until you are. I know moving into the Haus — it’s like being new on the team again, in a way. We need to make sure you know we have your back.”

“By buying me clothes?” Bitty asked. 

“Whatever it takes,” Jack said. “Even putting on a costume myself.”

“You didn’t have to,” Bitty said, even though he knew he was repeating himself. Then he fell silent, wondering if his head was more muddled than he thought.

“I know,” Jack said. “But it seemed like it might be fun.”

“Was it?”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “It’s fun to be part of the group sometimes. As long as it’s a group you like.”

“I think so too,” Bitty said. 

Jack hummed along to the song about a horse with no name, and Bitty thought about what it meant to be part of the group, and what it meant that Jack had wanted Bitty to feel like he belonged.

It was team bonding, of course. And it was Haus bonding. But Bitty felt like maybe, maybe it was something more. 

[minimoxha]

Ready, Set, Love!

Starring: Satoru Gojo, Karma Akabane, Eren Yeager, Itadori Yuji, Izuku Mydoria, Y/n L/n.

Summary: Based in a society where marriage is now a hard ask to achieve. In which you, the reader are forced by your sister to join a game show in hopes to get married while you're in it to make money.

A/n: I KNOW THIS IS A CRAZY MIX BUT HEAR ME OUT. Abandoning prior lore these boys are (Not that traumatized) And they will be the options for you to marry. However, if you feel like anyone else should be in the show to replace some of the characters let me know.

There will be different games and different endings which means you all can vote on the dates and games and outcomes and kind of choose how the story goes, YAY! This was the prolouge so tune in next episode next week! :D

Enjoy,

“I understand what you’re saying Ms.L/n, truly.” My sister's principal started, giving me a look of pure pity as I just spilled my life to her like it was truly her problem that we couldn’t afford such a prestigious school. “However, we can’t keep her here. She is disruptive and abusive to our students and staff here. She has to leave.” Just fucking great, Jada. You had to be an argument brat all the damn time. 

“Do you know our other options?” I ask quietly. When Mrs.Langsy looked down at her computer, I made sure to send Jada a death stare. I was tired of switching schools because she couldn't keep herself together. And this time, I didn’t know how I was going to send her to school when the last option was a school for snotty rich kids that I definitely couldn’t afford the tuition for. “Public schools preferably?”

Mrs.Langsy sighed and finally stopped typing on her computer, giving me and Jada a sorry look. So, that was a no. 

“Jada has been banned from every public school in this part of the city. The other option would be to move or go to private school..” Mrs.Langsy whispered to me. I could feel my left eye twitching in anger She just had to do this now. “This is the brochure for the private school closest, Jularod, I send my own daughter there it is an amazing school.” I took the brochure and flipped though it before stopping and abruptly closing it when I saw the tuition price; 20 thousand a year? Was I paying for her college or was I paying for her to attend middle school?

“Thank you, Ms. Langsy. Have a good day.” I smiled to the principal even though I clearly have an attitude. I dragged jada out of the office before laying into her.

“How did you get suspended again? I thought we said no fighting?”

“She fucked around and found out! I don’t know what you want me to do.” Jada argued back as we walked to the car. “Just take me out of school, I’ll teach myself.” Jada was always stubborn, just like dad was. This however, was not the time to have an attitude. 

“Watch your mouth, Jada. You’ll learn when you're older than fighting wont just get you suspended but next time, It’ll get you in Jail.” I argue back. I sound like my mom. She would’ve been yelling at me for skipping class or something just as rebellious as Jada was doing years ago when I was her age. Years ago when she was alive. 

“Jada please, I work hard to make sure we have a roof and food. I just need you to behave for once. Can you do that?” My voice cracked at the end, I was trying my best to not cry while driving and crashing the car. If she had a better role model than me…maybe she would’ve been better behaved. 

Jada turned to me, worry coating her beautiful babydoll eyes. “I’ll do better, Y/n.” 

That was all I needed. 

Some type of Closure that she would be trying to end her nasty streak of fighting and being sneaky. I would do all that I could to trust that she would make the right decision. I just had to sit and trust her for once. 

“Let’s go out to dinner this time.”

“Yeah!”

                              —

Jada and I walked side by side, Ice cream in hand staying in sight of the huge tv located in the main part of (insert city in japan later).The broadcast of Ready, Set, Love, was starting to play; announcing all 100 contestants in a very slow, very painful manner. 

I had never been interested in shows like these, Reality tv mixed with dating and finding the true love of your life. Jada was though. 

In our house she had ran her allowance almost dry buying various merch from the many ads the boys had to advertise them

for them for the new season. My ears almost bled with how much she would tell me about these men she barely knew. And every night, without a doubt she’d be in one of their lives watching these men talk about their lives for no apparent reason. 

They were handsome, I couldn’t lie. But Couldn’t imagine being one of the girls to be on that show competing for a man. Had we really lost all decorum as women that we were so eager to be married that we’d do competitions for the chance to have one we wanted? 

“I hope you win.” Jada mumbled from beside me. I turned to her, confusion written all over my face.

“I didn’t enter, why would I win?”

“I entered you.” She confessed. My face was more confused than ever now.

It was nothing new that Jada was one of the sneakiest people I knew. If she wanted to hide something  and lie about something, she was going to do it. Gracefully, might I add. “Why would you do that? You know I don't like these stupid shows.” I ask her, finishing my ice cream with my mouth full of the dessert. “Its like a 0.1 chance that I’ll be picked out of 1 million girls.”

Jada turns to me, her face more serious than I had ever seen it. “I want to see you married, Y/n. I don’t want you to sit around and put your life to the side even when you deserve to live your life.” Tears filled her eyes as she took hold of my hand. Her palms were sweaty, she was nervous. 

My mouth opened so I could say something, something that would attempt to convince her that she was not a burden to me no matter what. I was cut off by the rather loud announcement of my full name coming from the direction of one of the screens that hung from the side of the building. As if on its own, my head flips back towards the tv seeing a horrible picture plastered on the screen, directly next to my name in big green letters. My mouth falls in shock. There  was absolutely no way I actually won. I didn’t even want to win but somehow out of millions of girls I was one of the starting 100? My head flips back to Jada who looked at me with a huge smile gaping her face.

“You won! You actually won” She shouts, voice like a kid in a candy store would be.

Yeah, I won. Holy shit.

[darth-aces]

Flower Bed

Bella Ramsey X Reader

Flowers can relay messages from one person to another. That may be why we give out flowers to people that mean so much more than we can say. Although, these messages are often hidden and left unnoticed by most people. Maybe it’s the lack of solid information on this floral language, the disinterest we as a society place in the nature we walk on, or maybe it’s because running to your nearest florist after work moments before seeing your person requires sacrifice in time and specificity.

For many though, I think it’s the difficulty we face in creating messages that can amount to an ounce of what we truly feel for them.

Yet this unreliable system of floral morse code is the only way you’ve been able to tell Bella that you loved them. 

Anytime you were both in town you would make your way over to their house, picking up flowers from bushes and random cracks with slight foliage as you walk. By the time you get there, you would usually have enough to tie and clump into a ball giving it the necessary weight needed for you to successfully throw it through their window and into their bedroom. 

“I don’t understand is this supposed to be romantic or are we trying to get dirt all over my comforter?” Bella said as they pop their head out to see you. 

“Trust me if you want romance just let me know, I’d be more than happy to oblige!” You yell back. They smirk and like it always had been, it’ll take a little more jokes and sly remarks to convince them to come down and finish the silly act you two had started.

“Are you here to ask me out on a date? Perhaps you’re here to ask for my hand in marriage?” They ask. “I will say though, I don’t typically go for people as direct as you,” Bella says taunting you.  

“How about we go out on a date and by the end of the day we’ll see if you’d still be into marrying me?” You say desperately trying to get them to come down quickly and out of the heat you’re currently melting in. 

This happens every year. You and Bella aren’t actually dating, but things have always been more than platonic. 

At one point you two have even confessed that your feelings were mutual, but somewhere in that conversation, you agreed that long distance would be difficult in the early stages of a relationship and your friendship was more important at that moment. Although your mutual agreement kept your friendship going, it made things confusing. 

You two weren’t exclusive, but you weren’t looking to be in a relationship with anyone. You were also busy trying to get through college. Romance, was hardly on your mind unless that romance was with Bella. They were always in the back of your mind keeping you company when you studied or when you began daydreaming during boring lectures. 

You don’t exactly know what things have been like for Bella in the romance department (nor did you ask), but deep down you hoped that they were waiting for the day things could bring you two together.

It wasn’t like you two didn’t talk. You talked as often as you could, but the both of you were in different places of the world. Sometimes they’d be off elsewhere to a different part of England, in the U.S., or Canada. You’d be in the U.S. studying day and night for most of the year. This made texts and calls almost impossible to be as good as it was in person. Alas, you were still able to keep in touch. 

Now that it’s summer you finally finished school and Bella was back in town before having to be elsewhere for another job. Which brings you two here, taunting each other through their window.

With a chuckle they finally run down to their front door, opening it up quickly and practically squeezing you into a bear hug. Missing them equally as much, you find yourself immediately squeezing back.

“I’ve missed you.” They muffled into your shoulder. You finally get a good glimpse of them when you pull back, still attached in their embrace. “Yeah, I’ve been waiting to see you too.” You say, too mesmerized by their features. Then you noticed their hair.

“Look at that your hair’s shorter.” Picking up a strand to observe. 

“Yeah, I sent you that video of them cutting it off a while back remember?” 

Of course you remembered, it was a huge change that left you a little jealous because you weren’t there in person to witness yourself, but you were also squirming with delight seeing them with their semi-new haircut. 

“Yeah, it looks great. You always look great.” You say while awkwardly pulling away from the hug as you try to keep your mixed emotions down. 

“Thanks.” 

You’re both a little shy having not seen each other in a long time.

“So, I was thinking we make it up to my room for a bit, I’ve got something for you.” Bella points toward the room above and you feel a gush of warmth spring into your cheeks. They’ve been thinking about you while you’ve been separated, and you can’t help but feel a sort of validation after thinking of them the entire time you’ve been away too. 

“So you’re the one proposing now aren’t you?” You say trying to regain yourself and keeping up with the banter. “If that gets you to come in faster, then yes.” 

With this remark, they let you into the house where you make it up their stairs and into their bedroom, where you’ve thrown countless numbers of flowers trying to get their attention. 

“You know it’s funny, you’d think with how long we’ve known each other that I’d find a stray flower or two around here, but it’s starting to seem like you’re hoarding them up and hiding them away from me.” You say trying to ease your anxiousness and excitement now being alone with them again. 

Ignoring your statement, they go over to their desk and pick up a nicely decorated box. “My surprise is a bit handmade, but I figured you’d be into it since it took a little more work and thought.” Bella hands it over and gestures toward the bed to sit. 

“You know you didn’t have to get me anything. Besides I didn’t even think of getting you something. Sorry about that.” 

“Nonsense, you didn’t have the get me anything, I just wanted you to have this. Also, this gift wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for you anyway.” Curious now hearing that you’re a key component to a gift for yourself you lift the lid of the present to investigate. 

On the very top is a note,

Every flower you sent through my window felt like an “I love you”. If I don’t say anything now, I might have to sleep with an endlessly growing meadow beneath my bed dedicated to the love we have. 

-Bella

Under the note, you find neatly arranged flowers pressed and preserved on papers with tiny handwritten dates next to each flower. 

You’re astonished. 

“I figured we should give it a shot. It’s been a while and I’m still in love with you. Although this isn’t a proposal like you wanted it to be, I’d like to ask you out on a proper date.” Bella says as you’re still staring at years worth of patience. 

You finally look up at them smiling like an idiot before blurting out, “In that case, I think I should be getting you an actual bouquet of flowers before we go out on our official first date.”   

“Oh wait!” They quickly stand up and pick up a flower off their desk. “I think you’ve already picked enough flowers to make more than one bouquet for me. I’ll have to press this one for you though. I think this’ll complete our collection.” Bella says as they carefully hold a flower you brought just moments before.

“I don’t think I’d ever want to stop bringing you flowers.” You say mesmerized by them. “I might even have to grow my own flower bed just so I’ll have flowers ready to go.”

Bella let’s out a laugh when you say this, amused by your response, and you smile thinking of all the flowers growing the more you fall in love with them.

[yakumtsaki]

Oh yay, our first thunder fire in the new house, wonder how long before someone dies again! Also love how you can see our old house in the background, a reminder you can run from your past but you can’t escape it. 

I am of course talking about this family’s past of semi-acceptable interactions between family numbers, because from now on is where things really go off the rails in this department. Allow me to introduce you to..

..Julian and Stacy’s daughter, Sunset Tinker-Union! (Because her parents wear pink and purple, get it? Get the name origin?) So the minute Bartholomew brought Sunset from school I knew it was over for me, as we’re now far enough removed from the other branches of the family tree that not even the extended family mod can save us from all those third cousins being fair game.. and you all know full well that if there’s one thing this family knows how to do, is be attracted to their distant cousins-

-I held out to one tiny hope that maybe Barflina will continue being socially incompetent losers and Sunset will hate them, but no, the minute a distant cousin enters the building it’s clearly time to turn up the charm. So first Bartholomew goes and smustles with Sunset, which, Barth, I didn’t know you were even like, biologically capable of having fun in any way-

-and then Felina (who I keep forgetting is SHY LOL WHAT) goes over to ADMIRE HER. BRO. I have never seen Felina do anything remotely nice her entire life, KILL ME.

But don’t worry, Sunset clearly takes after auntie June! She’s into it! She follows Barth to the toilet for no clear reason! WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME

So you at this point you might be like ya ok, calm your tits, there’s no guarantee anything will even happen. To which I reply go back and read, not even the whole thing, just our college runs, and then get back to me. We’ve been knocking on semi-incest’s door since generation 1 and now we don’t even have to knock, I mean the door is wide open! FML

ANYWAY, all this to say, it’s time to extremely focus on finding these two flops non-related-to-us people to date before we fuck off to college, and this is ALL I’m gonna be doing this update- 

-Like haha oh man Cyn and Sandy are starting a rock band, there’s def jokes here, NO. NO TIME, DON’T CARE, HAVE TO AVERT DISASTER.

-Failina, hold your goddamn notebook closer so I can copy, it’s hard with my eyepatch! -It’ll be even harder when I take your other eye out!

Alright you two.. uh.. awesome kids, let’s go out! 

-Go out where. -And WHY.

So you can have fun, meet people, maybe sing some karaoke or play bowling! You’ve seen how much fun your ancestors have had as teens out and about, driving drunk, being hoes, committing various crimes, you wanna miss out on that experience? It’s even how grandma Shajar met grandma Sophie and that marriage could not be stronger!

-Ugh ok, I guess I do need to get started on the spouse hunt. -And I would like to get drunk in a different setting than our library.

Perfect! Who knows, by the end of the night, you might even be besties singing duets like Jojo and Gunther!

Oh my- WE LITERALLY JUST GOT HERE. WHAT CAN YOU TWO POSSIBLY BE FIGHTING ABOUT

-SCREW YOU, DAVID OTTOMAS IS MINE -NO, HE’S MINE, HE’S THE ONLY TEEN SIM IN THE LOT AND I HAVE SENIORITY -THE HELL YOU DO

OK LET’S GO HOME

-SCREW YOU, I WANNA OPEN THE GARAGE DOOR -THE DOOR IS MINE, YOU CAN’T EVEN DRIVE YET

OMG LITERALLY STOP. I LEARNED MY LESSON, I’M NEVER MAKING YOU INTERACT AGAIN

Once again, I’m crawling back to Lakshmi! Finally she has returned to us! As you might recall I had to deal with her understudy, Margaret, and frankly she was better than Lak at her job but it just wasn’t the same. Lakshmi and I have HISTORY. We have a deep, dark, beautiful relationship-

-I’m not giving you a discount. 

UGH FINE. Take 5k of our last money (I forgot to mention the new house somehow cost 500K, we legit have like 20k left)-

-and hit us with your best shot!

-Oh, I will! 

Ok but you’ve said that before and I’m still not over the time I paid you 5k for June and you gave us iVan. 

-No, this time I mean it! The path is clear! 

The ‘path is clear’?? The path for FELINA’S love life is clearer than it was for June the literal model-hot genius???

-Indeed!

I gotta say, Lakshmi, your mouth better not be writing checks your crystal ball can’t cash.

-It is not, I promise! 

Alright, I’m waiting, do it to us-

OH

MY

GOD

IT’S MEADOW

THEY HAVE 3 BOLTS THIS IS ALREADY HILARIOUS. LAKSHMI YOU ARE FORGIVEN FOR ALL THE SHIT YOU’VE EVER PULLED ON ME

Bro this pairing is KILLING ME. Like I get it on paper since they’re both family sims and I guess their chemistry panels and zodiacs must insanely match too, but I thought Felina would get with someone like idk. Gvaudoin? Alegra Gorey? Klara Vonderstein? Maybe the Diva or a vamp NPC? Like you know what I mean, someone that makes sense with the whole dark queen powerful dynasty blabla she has going on. But no, she’s gonna start this house Lannister bs her LTW is about with.. MEADOW THAYER. I love it so much, Felina please don’t ruin this for us!

FELINA WTF DID I JUST SAY

-Sorry, but I don’t know you well enough to accept you touching my shoulder, huhu!🌞

-But if you want to tickle me again, that’s somehow more acceptable to me despite it involving way more touching!🌞

Alright, as I suspected, not a lot going on upstairs with dear Meadow, but it’s ok, I’m just glad to have a huhuing sim around again, Cyn is like 80yo :(

Ah, the tickling of love! Good job, Fel, now we can work our way up to flirting-

-Or I can just not be a turbocuck AND GO FOR IT

Man, the Sophie genes kicked in! Good for you, Fel!

Backyard karaoke time! Seriously what song could these two possibly BOTH like, please comment or msg me your guesses. 

So at this point I’m already 100% sold on Meadow as a spouse as I don’t think it’s humanly possible to come up with a funnier pairing than what fate dropped in my lap, but I’d also like to point out that Felina is so into Meadow that she’s already rolling fears of falling out of love with her, despite not even BEING IN LOVE WITH HER YET. Family sims are a fucking trip. 

CUTE. Alright Felina, you’re set, we got it in one, semi-incest avoided, yay us. Now I’m gonna leave you to your dream date and focus on Barth-

-who is gambling by himself. Guess I don’t need to ask who’s drunk again!

-That’s one safe bet, haha! 

Good Lord. Alright, get up, let’s find you someone while Lakshmi is still here, I’m sure our amazing luck will continue-

-OH FUCK IT’S TIAVE TEENS, HE HAS THE DON BROKEN FACE THING. ABORT ABORT

Oh good there’s nothing to abort, because it turns out Bartholomew is a COMPLETE FAILURE OF A ROMANCE SIM. Observe and keep in mind THEY HAVE 3 BOLTS:

-LALALA LALALA NOT LISTENING TO YOU INSULT MY SPATULA, FUCK OFF

LOL NO @ THE NOOGIES RETURN. FUCK. So clearly Felina has grandma Sophie’s chadly genes and Bartholomew has grandma Shajar’s noogiesexuality, except he’s a romance sim with a 20 woohoo LTW. College with this guy is gonna be UNBEARABLE. 

Alright, Barth, let’s try this again, don’t be discouraged! Ignore our lack of cash!

Ignore that Felina got it right on the first try and is still on her endless dream date!

PATRICK TEENS?! LMAO. Bartholomew is so committed to going through family trees, like if it’s not gonna be his own it’s gonna be SOMEONE’S, he doesn’t care! Unlike Don-clone Tiave, Patrick is cute tho, let’s give it a try-

-Ya, let me stop you right there, buddy, not into it but best of luck in your future endeavors!

Bruh. Let’s extremely call it a night, Barth.

-Oh hi, huhu!🌸 -Hi hi, huhu!🌞 -I feel like I know you?💗

Ya Cyn, if I didn’t have photographic proof that it’s not true I’d legit think she’s your long lost daughter. Man ACTUALLY how much sense does it make that like people tend to seek out partners that remind them of their parents and Cyn was always such a maternal influence on Felina??? Holy hell this game has so many layers. 

Clearly inspired by seeing her younger self in Meadow, Cyn finally finds it in her to woohoo again after Don’s passing! It’s legitimately crazy to me how loyal she was to him in death, like I can’t get over it, she never extended that courtesy to him while he was alive!

-𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝙼𝚈 𝙵𝙸𝚁𝙴.𝙴𝚇𝙴

It’s ok, Barth, you sleep off the romantic flopping and that tray of whiskeys and we’ll try again tomorrow.

-Ya, make sure to call us over when he ‘tries again tomorrow’ cause we don’t wanna miss it HAHA -HAHAHA boy did I screw him over by passing down my personality points! -You sure did, my little turbocuck! Let’s sleep in the same bed tonight, I can’t get into this one anyway with this flop sleeping there! -That’s what everyone is gonna be saying to him in college HAHAHA -HAHAHAHA oh Shaj, I love you, let’s work on our marriage! -I love you too, we’ll overcome our issues!

Awww, see Barth? Love wins❤️

[forevfangirlwrites]

Hello!!

I’m just looking for a fluffy childhood friends to lovers fic. Doesn’t have to be long, and you can (ofc) take as much time as you need!!

Happy writing!!

((PS: Im sad I haven’t discovered your blog earlier- I LOVE your writing so much!))

Her feet are starting to hurt, but she pushes herself to keep going. Hope is dwindling with every tick of the clock though and there isn’t much time left until she’s going to have to face this.

One more, she tells herself, one more and maybe he’ll be here by the time I get back.

So she starts her eleventh lap around his block, heart breaking with every step as the empty driveway disappears behind her.

There was a time where he would be the one to knock on her door, her heart racing from her mad dash down the stairs, to him.

But now each step feels heavier, her heart pounding with the ache of cracking.

What had she been hoping for all these years? What had she been dreaming off when they walked into their high school reunion arm and arm?

The kiss from the homecoming dance she never got? The slow dancing in the gym with their bodies up against each other?

There was a time when she hadn’t dared to dream of such things.

“Percy! This is a horrible idea!”

“Who cares? Come on, don’t you want to see the view?”

She must still look unconvinced because he reaches out his hand and pulls her along.

“Come on Annabeth, I promise it’ll be fun.”

Those wide green eyes are pleading at her, and she’s never really been able to deny him after that. Her sigh is his signal, and the grin is back as he’s pulling her along.

There’s a metal fire-escape looking ladder that he pulls all the way down and takes a tentative step.

“Ready?”

She’s not but she follows anyway until they make it to the small roof.

They sit side by side, his arms brushing against hers as they look out over the street. They aren’t that high up and there’s not that much to see but his warmth feels good against the cool breeze.

“Can’t believe we ditched homecoming for this,” she complains anyway.

“We were there for a little bit so it’s not ditching, it’s leaving early,” he responds with a wink that makes her heart flutter.

“Plus,” he adds, “you can’t deny this is way more fun.”

His smile is bright, lips close enough that she could lean forward just a little bit and kiss them.

She doesn’t though. She doesn’t deny his claim either or tell him that everything is always fun when she’s with him.

Maybe she should have. Should have just swallowed her fear and confessed that their friendship had always meant more to her.

But they were Percy and Annabeth. Best friends, partners in crime, and the gossip of everyone in school because they must be together right?  

Yet Percy had never acknowledged the potential that everyone else saw, always laughing it off as a joke.

So who was she to tell him that she saw it too? That they were too good with each other, that they were meant to be something greater than this.

She knows she was right because she got a glimpse of it once.

And it ruined her heart in a way that’s made her screwed up enough to walk this eleventh lap.

“So you’re finally leaving, huh?”

“Wow, finally? Don’t sound too sad about it,” she replies with a glare. It’s already upsetting that they’re going to different colleges and that she won’t be seeing him, but he’s starting to annoy her now.

Is she the only one who’s going to be missing him?

Percy grins despite her glare. “I mean took you long enough.”

“Hey!”

He laughs as she swats his arm in incredulous anger.

“Annabeth,” he complains when she swats him again. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry.”

But she goes for a third swat only for him to catch her hand before she can complete the action. And despite her frown he pulls her closer to him.

His green eyes are wide and sincere and oh lord she’s jumping into them.

KEEP READING ON AO3

A/N: Thank you so much for the prompt! I appreciate the support! And so glad to hear you like my writing! Thank you again and I hope you like how this turned out!

[merakiui]

OHHHHHMYGOD. I loved ur clingy codependent bf azul so much. I literally felt a bit of anxiety reading it, I love azul sm hes baba, but the thought of him being this obsessed ans codependent is so nerve-wracking. you really wouldn't be able to leave him alone once he starts exhibiting signs of mental health issues.. and if this is an au where he has his canon octo form, then hes def the type to cut a tentacle or two of his just to "prove" how serious he is, knowing it will grow back eventually anyway so why not make the most out of it and scare the hell out of darling 😭

UGH AND THE WEDDING TRAPPING. and the fact it only spirals downwards from there. the door and knife scene literally made me pause bc omg.. I was not expecting it to escalate like that.. but it fits SO well!! and darlings realization throughout the drabble is honestly so upsetting because acknowledging that most of their attempts will be futile is so frustrating and hope-killing when they have a slimy and pathetic octo clinging to them 😭😭 and especially now considering how close they and azul are, legality wise. REALLY, I don't know what's so different about this compared to your azul drabbles, but it really had me pacing a little im ngl. maybe it's the fact hes way more blatantly insane and blunt with his obsession or that he's willing to go to more extreme measures? whatever it is, you nailed it and I absolutely loved it!!

and this on a different, more minor note, but are you the same author that wrote the ex scara stuff? reading the azul drabble took me back to this other codependent, obsessed bf drabble i read a few months back. it wad about darling and scara being high school sweethearts, but scara becomes more unstable throughout the relationship, so darling eventually breaks it off with him before going to college. only for ex bf scara to show up, feign innocence and squish himself into darlings friend group as a way to get close to them again, and it ends with scara also wedding trapping them. if u did not write that, I am so sorry 😭 the azul piece just kinda reminded me of it but theyre two separate things and I love each one sm!! srsly, your writing is so addicting I don't understand how you do it. and you pace things so well, like despite the azul piece not being a fully fledged fic, it still has nice pacing. it's not too short or too lengthy, and not too fast or too slow, it keeps you alert and eager to continue!!

AAAAA THANK YOU FOR READING IT!!!! I’m happy you liked it and that you could even feel anxiety from it!! :O I was hoping it could evoke uncomfortable feelings like that, so I’m relieved to know I could succeed in that endeavor!

An Azul who is so dangerously unhealthy and obsessed is always a scary thought. I wanted to write something where it starts seemingly innocent and then becomes something so uncontrollable, much like how most toxic relationships often begin. It’s small and almost cute until it isn’t—until you’re snuffed from the stifling nature of someone’s codependent behaviors. It can be stressful, so I wanted to portray that on both sides. Stressful for Azul because his tendency to panic and overthink when he’s spiraling makes anything like a day out with friends seem like a very stressful thing. Stressful for Reader because they’ve taken on the role of protecting Azul from himself (even though it isn’t a role for them to take on).

Reader probably likens Azul to a glass vase sitting on the edge of a cliff and one strong gust of wind is all it takes for that vase to come crashing down. But then Azul is also highly intelligent and he only takes risks if he knows there will be a reward, so he can peer over the edge of the cliff and he won’t fall. So if he does cut a tentacle or two to prove something to Reader (or scare the life out of them and force them to stay), he does it while fully knowing it’ll grow back. It still hurts, but then Azul thinks this pain is nothing compared to the pain he’ll feel if you leave him forever. “Leave” and “abandon” are so interchangeable for him. They’re somewhat similar words, but “abandon” sounds harsher. You can leave a person and all is well. You can abandon a person and that makes it sound wrong. Hurtful and villainous. It’s such a small thing, but it hooks you every time. Because leaving Azul makes it sound easy. But abandoning him paints you as the bad one—the one who abandoned him in his time of need.

And marriage trapping!!! He’s really so cunning, but Reader’s too busy trying to balance his breakdowns and keep him above the water to realize that beneath all of that he’s actually quite smart. In a marriage, it’s just you and Azul. No one else can truly interfere with that. And for Azul it’s easier to isolate you. You agreed to be his now. You agreed to live with and love him for the rest of your life. You said your vows. You kissed him in front of family and friends. You are a pair now, and that’s unbreakable. Not even divorce can save you because that’s an expensive and lengthy process and even if you did separate in that way you’d still be forced to fret over him and what he might do next. And that’s really scary! The idea of “okay, he’s done this terrible thing…but what’s next?” is always so chilling. What else is this person capable of? is a frightening question to ask when you don’t have an answer. When there isn’t a line to make a clear divide between the crossable and uncrossable or when that line is blurred, it makes it seem like anything is on the table. And since Azul is so codependent, there are always worrying mindsets like: If you aren’t in my world, I shouldn’t be here either. If I can’t have you, no one can. If I lose you, I lose a vital part of myself. My life hinges on you being here with me, so if you’re not in my life there isn’t a life to live. Without you, everything is worthless and meaningless.

Thank you again for liking this piece!! I’m glad it felt different from other Azul thoughts I’ve written. It’s most likely as you’ve said: he’s much more insane and willing to go to extreme lengths for the sake of his obsession. >_< this type of Azul is truly horrifying, but he’s very interesting to write and analyze like this.

And I did write the possessive ex Scara story!!! :D omg for a moment I forgot I had written it until you reminded me! I’m happy you like this one as well. Scara 🤝 Azul: codependent boyfriends who raise your stress meter just by existing. ^^;;;

Aaaaa thank you for thinking my writing is addicting and well-paced!! I’m glad it didn’t feel too slow or too fast as well as too long or too short!! I’m happy it can be an enjoyable, albeit anxiety-inducing, read!!!!

[the-missann]

Previous Post

Next up is

Jax Barmen!

He's a super cute cutie and aside from his role in the story being related to the researcher who initially discovered 4th Dimensional beings (no, that's not a big deal in the story). Jax serves as the groups researcher.

He's extremely intelligent and enjoys theoretical research. Being a senior in high school, he has plans to go off to college and become a theoretical scientist.

Jax is also the pretty/popular boy of the school. Everyone loves him because he's personable and friendly. Jax is my sweet boy who tries his best to make sure the girls and women around him are taken care of and comfortable, and anyone else is met with nothing but kindness. I don't even think it's possible for him to even have bad thoughts.

Jax is also kind of the dad of the group being able to settle everyone down when they're feeling stressed or anxious about something. Outside of that, Jax often is the reasonable one of the group being able to make rational decisions and account for what they should or shouldn't be doing.

I actually just made this drawing randomly and it's not based on the excerpt. Here, Jax and Cassie are essentially having a sleep over where Jax is going to teach her something she's interested in. They're so cute too, they're suppose to he wearing matching PJs ☺

Also, his hair is different because I'm very bad at drawing 😄

Here's a snipit of him!

It was now silent in the car, Jax got to a stop light and spoke to the pair.

“You guys are arguing about this? Have either of you thought about the actual situation?”

Larson looked at Jax. “You must want to die.” Larson threatened. “I am thinking about the situation.”

“No, you’re only thinking about disagreeing with Cassie because you believe she’s wasting our time. You have yet to say any kind of idea you have.”

Larson looked off and let out an audible sigh.

Cassie smiled. “Yeah, at least I’m trying to come up with something!”

Jax looked back at Cassie. “And you are deciding things without concern about consequence.”

Cassie shrunk under his voice. “But I-”

“I know, Cassie, you think this will be good. So I have to ask you, why is it good?”

Cassie sat back. “Because… we’ll get to have allies if we help them?”

“That’s a good reason, but here you miss a major point—we could also find out more about rifts. If they know things we don’t then it’ll only benefit us, but at what cost?”

Cassie was going to say something, but remained quiet.

So Jax continued. “We don’t know if they’re stronger than you guys and they very well might be. So maybe next time just say you have a good idea and we can go from there…” Cassie pressed her lips together. “And Lars, maybe don’t doubt Cassie for every little thing she does. Have some faith in her gut choices and listen to her suggestions, but I agree with your concern. This might be a huge waste of time, but I believe we’ll get something out of it and that’s worth the risk.”

The silence continued after he finished talking. The frustrated pair sat with his words without a single retort. Eventually, when the light turned green, Jax started to drive again.

Larson let out a sigh and spoke. “Besides sounding like a parent who’s scolding his children, you…have a point,” Larson began, “but what are we even going to get from this?”

“As I said, we may be able to learn more about rifts. As well as other species that might exist within them.” Jax stated calmly.

Larson sighed. “Fine, we’ll consider taking this guy down…”

“Alright, we’ll go from there.” With that Jax ended the conversation...

Next post

Fun fact: his design still isn't what I want, but it's close enough that I'm willing to settle for this. Jax also does his own hair and at one point, I added a scene where Cassie doesn't know how to give herself cornrows and Jax helps her 😊

[thompsborn]

Hi! How are you?

First, thank you for create tbaf and hb, I really love the au's you create and how you tell stories, idk you are amazing. I just needed to tell you :D

Now, I'm sorry if this ruins the 'no spoilers' but can you say if there is a happy ending for homeward bound series or is there not one planned yet?

Have a nice day, thanks!

hello!! i’m pretty good, actually! i hope you’re doing good, as well!!

no one has to thank me for tbaf and hb, these two projects have been very fun to write and have helped me a lot in terms of developing my writing styles and exploring different approaches to writing in general, and i genuinely LOVE writing them (even if i sometimes go a Very Long Time between updating them lmao) so please no need to thank me!! thank YOU for reading them !! ❤️❤️❤️

honestly i’m not against giving spoilers, i’m more just worried about posting them and anyone who may have wanted to avoid them getting upset? it happened a few times back when i wrote reddie fics (the reason i stopped writing for the it fandom is because i would get a lot of messages and asks that were in general not nice and very demanding about what i write and how often i post and it just took all the fun out of it) so i’m just like… overly cautious probably lmao

but!! if anyone WANTS vague spoilers, there are some that i don’t want to share at all because i’m very excited to see peoples reactions to them (there are things i haven’t even told oddy, who i have messaged A Lot about hb and have told the most about my plans for it) but i’m down for some spoilers/hints !!

here’s my compromise i guess for anyone who WANTS to see these hints and mild/vague spoilers and stuff: i’m down to post them, but i’m gonna put them under a read more tab and maybe i’ll start a hb spoiler tag?

homeward bound fic is my tag for the series (i also follow the tag in case anyone else ever wants to post about it pfkfkf) but i’ll tag this homeward bound fic spoilers and any posts in the future that drops hints and shit will be tagged the same !!

anyway, your question: will hb have a happy ending? look under the cut if you’d like to see my answer!!

okay, so here’s some transparency about the series: i don’t have the whole thing planned out.

i have a lot of ideas and i have certain things decided and vague ideas about the other parts, but past the last three chapters of the first fic, i don’t have like proper outlines or anything just yet. i didn’t even have a plan for the first fic when i posted the first like two or three chapters—i was coming up with it as i wrote it and it wasn’t until i was a couple chapters in that i started planning ahead because it was at that point that i realized how massive i wanted the fic to be and it was around that time that i started thinking about making it a series instead of a stand alone fic.

i’m still trying to decide who the antagonists of the second fic are gonna be (i know one, but i’m debating adding more and am ironing out subplots and such)

basically: i don’t know how the series is going to end yet. i’m planning on having the four main fics that will basically be the main story, and then having additional one shots/short fics that kind of fill in gaps and provide moments after college, as the four fics are supposed to encompass one of their school years. this might change, i might make it three fics or add a fifth one or something, but as of now that’s my plan.

while i don’t have the actual ending figured out, i can say with certainty that i want it to be a good ending. maybe not necessarily a super happy one, but it’s not going to end in tragedy. harley and peter are going to have a future together. the spidey squad is going to remain a found family and support system for each other. (also the spidey squad is going to consist of more than the core four we currently have, but i’m not going to spoil that part. it’ll start to be clear who else will be in it group as the series continues. matter of fact, the last chap of the first fic starts that process!)

the one shots that i plan to write based after the end of the main fics will have a lot of snapshots of moments as they all grow up — ups and downs, highs and lows, relationships taking next steps and having fights and making up and everything in between.

this answer is kind of long and rambly, sorry, let me try to summarize my answer in a few sentences:

while the ending of homeward bound has not been officially decided, it is not going to be a bad ending. it’s not going to end in sadness or tragedy. that being said, it might not be a super upbeat ending either, because life will always have its struggles, but the ending will be hopeful and happy in whatever way is most fitting of the series once it ends.

hopefully that answers your question well enough? idk i don’t wanna make it sound like it doesn’t have a happy ending at all, because i definitely want the best for these characters and their futures, but homeward bound has, at its core, been the embodiment of being a realist—not an optimist, not a pessimist, but a realist. the reason i started writing the first fic was because in the emotional turmoil following nwh, i wanted to try and take a realistic approach towards what peter’s story could be following the spell and may’s death and the loss of everything that his life used to be. and also wanted to explore how harry and gwen could be introduced and how harley could be brought into the loop. and of course as a parkner shipper how to make it into parkner as well lol.

life is hard. these characters have been through a lot (and will go through a lot more as the series progresses) but they are strong and they are full of love for each other and that will get them through it.

thank you for the ask!!! genuinely i LOVE answering questions about my fics and having a chance to ramble about them so please feel free to send more!!