#the friend who told you might definitely be fucking with you though anyway

[query-quadrant]

I've had a pitch crush on someone for a while! I really hate them! >:)

But one of our hatefriends just told me they might be pale for me? >:O

If they are, what do I do??? How do I make them hate me properly? :(

I don't pity them! I don't even know why they pity me! Or if they even really do! :?

It's really confusing and I don't want to have to reject them and then have to try and ask them out! That's not gonna go well!!! >:(

yeah i dont know that sounds awful i think personally id just die

questionable advice: either try upping the annoyingness and going all out with pitch flirting or just sit them down and just actually ask them if they pity you or not maybe youll get lucky and they dont but either way at least youll know right so that sucks a little less than not knowing

bad advice: kill their lusus maybe thatll make them really mad at you

[nexus-nebulae]

it's so dumb that we still feel awkward about creating willogenic headmates in our sys when we literally found out we were plural through the tulpa community

[plussizeficchick]

The Weekend | Eren x Chubby!Reader

Summary; Eren and Mikasa have been “dating” and while reader originally had no interest in him, the way Mikasa’s been acting sure does make him look more appealing ;)

Warnings; Smut, “cheating”(they’re not explicitly boyfriend and girlfriend), College AU! P in V, cunnilingus, cum eating, slight breeding kink, Mikasa and Historia are pick me’s and terrible friends lol. Loosely based on the song by SZA(might make a part 2 idkk, not proofread) PART 2

It was a bit difficult making friends at your University. For the most part, everyone had their set friend group so you knew it wouldn’t be easy finding people to hang out with during this new semester. 

That’s why you were glad to meet Mikasa and Historia. 

They were both in your Sociology class at Eldia University and they were having a bit of trouble when you offered help. They were nice, though they could be a bit catty. They introduced you to their other friends so you thought they were nice enough, but you noticed a change when they were around the guys. 

They would make offhand comments about your figure, your outfits, sometimes your attitude. It was off putting, to put it lightly. So, you’re thicker than the two of them, so what? It shouldn’t affect them. And while they may be comfortable suffering in silence, you were definitely going to speak up when you felt like it.

You were certain it was jealousy. The way they spluttered when you asked them to elaborate, the way they flustered when you mentioned that maybe they just couldn’t pull off plus-sized the way you could, had you feeling vindicated. And the way the boys always seemed to laugh at your jokes had them blatantly envious.

It was a bit pathetic to witness sometimes, the way guys would defend you from their “playful jabs” had thinly veiled sneers etching onto their faces.

— —

It was clear to everyone Mikasa had a thing for Eren and while you thought he was attractive, you could see him being more suited for her. And if the way he casually draped his arm around her shoulder meant anything, you’d say he thought the same. You were sure that she was his type, so she didn’t have anything to worry about.

That’s why it was such a shock when Historia told you she’d slept with him.

“I mean, if he really wanted her, they’d be together already, y’know.” She casually dropped the bomb when it was just the two of you. She was so blasé about it, applying her lipgloss as she made you promise not to say anything, throwing in a thinly veiled threat, “I mean, it’s not like anyone would believe you anyway. Plus, you don’t want to be by yourself, right?” 

It wasn’t so much the threat that made you keep your mouth closed, honestly, you had more morals than that, it was more so Mikasa’s attitude toward the hypothetical.

Throughout your entire “friendship” with the two girls, they’d always seen you as a non-factor. When you’d go to parties, they’d flirt with whomever showed even the slightest bit of interest in you and whenever you’d bring it up, they’d just gaslight you. “If he was really interested, then he wouldn’t have gotten distracted, would he?” And for the longest time, you had explained away their behavior because, yeah, you don’t want a guy that’ll easily stray, but, fuck. If it didn’t piss you off.

You’d originally wanted to tell her in a roundabout way, asking how she would feel if one of her friends were interested in Eren. Her answer, however, caused an unfamiliar feeling in your stomach. “Like who? Historia doesn’t see him like that and no offense, but you know Eren wouldn’t like someone like you.” That got you to thinking.

They think I’m a joke.

You wanted to tell Mikasa. You wanted to tell her when she spent nights crying to you and Historia about how Eren doesn’t open up to her anymore, how she felt he was slipping away.

You wanted to tell her what Eren really thought of her. The way he spent some nights ranting about how he felt obligated to date her, that sometimes he thinks of her as a fucking nuisance, like a snake that keeps coiling around his neck, suffocating. The times he’d wished she’d just take a fucking hint and get that he didn’t see a future with her.

You wanted to tell her about all the times Eren flirted with you, told you not to listen to any of her comments because, yeah, she could never pull off looking as good as you do. The times when he’d purposefully walk behind you, gripping at your soft waist and brushing his clothed cock against your ass, making sure you can really feel the length of him.

You wanted to tell her that even though she might be “dating” him, he was always coming back to your dorm late at night, hiking up his shirt around your waist and pressing his face into your chubby pussy, tonguing at your walls and pulling wave after wave of pleasure from you. That even though Historia may have had him that one time, he’s with you damn near every weekend, playing house.

— —

You’re on all fours, your back arched perfectly to make the glide of Eren’s cock in your sopping cunt that much easier. “Fuck, baby. You’re g’nna make me cum.” He grits out, teeth clenched. You’re squeezing him like a vice, your pussy creaming around his dick so deliciously he can taste the orgasm on his tongue.

He’ll never get tired of this, he’ll never get over how perfect your pussy molds for his cock, the velvety feeling of your cunt clenching around him. He’s panting, sweat dripping from his forehead before landing on the deep arch in your back, trickling down. Fuck, he just wants to devour you all over again.

“‘Ren, g’nna cum.” You moan for him, fuck, your voice is so fucking cute, the way your voice gets all high and whiny, has his cock throbbing inside you. “Cum f’me, pretty. Make a mess f’me.” He groans out. 

It’s embarrassing, the way your pussy squelches as he fucks into you. He fashions your hair into a makeshift ponytail before pulling, bringing your back flush against his chest. His hands are everywhere, groping and pawing at your soft flesh. 

He picks up the tempo of his thrusts, cock slamming into your warm, gushy center. He’s whining in your ear about how good you feel, how perfect you are for him, but it’s not until you hear him mumble about fucking a baby into you that you cum around his cock for the nth time that day. Your orgasm triggers his and before long his cock is pulsing as he fills you full of him.

You’re both panting as you slowly come down from your highs, Eren slowly removing his cock from your abused cunt and the sight of your poor battered pussy has Eren feeling a bit.. peckish.

You’re too busy catching your breath to notice Eren kissing along your spent body, only letting out a surprised yelp when you feel his hands spreading your cheeks and licking a bold stripe up your center. 

You gasp as he eats you out like a man starved, slurping up your combined essence before sucking on your clit. His hands grope the flesh of your ass, occasionally leaving a bruising spank to each side. 

He’s practically making out your cunt, tonguing at the soft flesh and pressing wet kisses to your clit before lapping at the bundle of nerves.

It doesn’t take long before another orgasm washes over you, soaking Eren’s face in your arousal. When he finally comes up for air, he’s pulling you into a wet kiss, the taste of you dancing on his tongue.

He pulls back slightly, pressing a quick peck to your cheek before getting up, moving to get the necessary items for aftercare. He cleans you up, dresses you in one of his favorite shirts and slides on a pair of boxers for himself before sidling next to you. He pulls you flush against his chest, pressing sweet kisses to your forehead as he traces shapes down your back.

This is why you always feel slightly bad for Mikasa. You know she craves for this level of intimacy with Eren and you know that her heart will break when he breaks the news of your relationship to her on Monday.

*sigh* If only she didn’t feel like a 9-5.

— —

Taglist: @xogabbiexo @kinq-sleazee @dabilovesme @blkchxrryblyss @tenyaiidasslut @luna-indigoduh @bookwormsenpai @bl--ankhaeji @thicksimpx @namjoonswifeyy @nasty-quillz @haikyutiehoe @musicisme333 @unsatisfiedanddisappointed @celi-xxmoon

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One / Part Two / Part Three (You Are Here)

Complete Thing on A03

Sure enough, Jason Carver had brought a priest. 

The idiot himself stood next to the guy, smugly grinning like a hunter posing with his prized buck, a small crowd already gathering. 

Opposing them was Michael Wheeler, hands planted on Hellfire’s table and back up like a pissed off cat’s, mouth moving faster than Eddie thought possible.

He couldn’t hear what Wheeler was saying. 

Frankly did not want to know what Wheeler was saying, and could only do his damndest to intervene before Mike tanked the situation entirely. 

Gareth and Jeff flanked him, both tense as hell. Neither had backed down though, standing tall and holding ground even as Jason pulled more and more people into his little spectacle. 

Lucas and Grant on the other hand, were standing off to the side.

They weren’t cowering exactly, but both were definitely wincing as Gareth opened his mouth to add his own two cents. 

Given the scowl on the priest, it was probably something nasty, 

‘Fuck.’ Eddie thought, teeth clenched, as Jason drew out his arms, making an even bigger production for his little audience. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck!’ 

The worst thing of all? 

Dustin managed to reach the group before anyone else did. 

Wheeler and Emerson might have low charisma, but Dustin had a particular combination of snark and a know-it-all attitude that really pissed off authority figures. 

(And Eddie would know, given he was the reigning champion of pissing off authority figures.) 

He did, however, slide in right in time to hear the priest respond. 

“I don’t care for your tone, young man. Jason here has some concerns over your club and I have to agree, what I see is quite,” The guy paused, jowls jiggling as he looked over their table, clearly eyeing Hellfire’s logo. “alarming.” 

 At least wasn’t an actual sermon.

Not yet, anyway. 

Eddie came up right inbetween Mike and Dustin, intending to make himself out to be the new target for all to aim at.  

There was an art to making yourself the sole owner of everything evil in this world, and Eddie had learned it all, trial by fire style.  

“Carver is full of--” Mike snarled, and thankfully was cut off—not by Eddie, or the hand he’d just clamped onto Mike’s shoulder—but by Harrington. 

Who sauntered right up as if he was joining everyone for dinner, and not walking into a circus act.

“Hello Father.” Harrington said, voice warm and welcoming.  “Would you like some of our cookies? We have a sample platter.” 

“Oh--Steve!” The priest blinked, actually blinked, that he was startled to see Hawkins’ golden boy appear next to him. “I’m sorry but no. I’m ah, here for other reasons.”

He paused so long it was nearly comedic before tentatively asking; “ Are you with this table?”

Like the guy couldn’t see the same Hellfire logo plastered across Steve’s ridiculous jock chest. 

Eddie opened his mouth to give a resounding no, Hellfire shirt or not--when Mike of all people put an elbow into his side. 

As if Eddie was the one who needed to be silenced.  

“I am.” Steve put an arm down on Dustin’s shoulder, squeezing it in a way that looked like fond encouragement (but what Eddie was pretty sure was actually a warning in the same way the hand on Mike’s shoulder was.) “I came to help out my friends and fundraise.”

Then he beamed, face lighting up with the full Harrington charm, giga watt smile and all. 

Now the priest just looked awkward. 

“You’ve apparently been fundraising for what I have been told is a…Satanist Club?” 

It was hilariously delicate, how the priest said it. Like now that a respectable member of Hawkins was here, he had to be more careful about what words he used. 

Eddie would have interrupted then.  Retake the reins and do what he did best in terms of making everyone forget about everything but him--except Carver was rounding on Harrington, and well.

He was always a fan of the rich eating each other. 

“You cannot seriously be with these--these,” Jason’s eyes darted to between him and the priest, before physically reigning himself in. “hooligans, Harrington!” 

“I’m sorry.” Harrington said, and whatever Jason had been expecting to get hit with, it wasn’t “good ol’ boy” southern charm. 

He blinked, taking on the air of a kicked puppy who couldn’t understand why someone would be so mean as he glanced around the crowd.  “I think I'm a little lost here.” 

Jason clearly wasn’t prepared for that either. 

“What?” 

“This table is for a storytelling and math game.” Steve spoke slowly, in the same way one explained things to a toddler. “You have to roll dice and add the numbers up to do anything."

“It’s not a game, Steve.” Jason spat back. “It’s an evil trick made to tempt the susceptible minds of children to the dark arts!” 

Personally, Eddie was amazed Carver even knew the word susceptible let alone be able to properly use it in a sentence. 

(He tried to open his mouth to say so, and once again got elbowed, this time by Gareth. 

The look he gave his younger friend could have melted steel beams.)

“That’s what this is about?” Harrington slid his arm off Dustin's shoulders, leaning back to look at the priest and the people around them in a show of blatant disbelief. “You think the nerd club is related to satanism?” 

It was Eddie's own tactic--arguing that D&D was “using academic skills” and “making math fun!" not that Hellfire had ever been successful using it.

Of course, they weren’t Hawkins golden boy either. 

Jason sputtered. 

“It has monsters and--demons in it! It makes children do spells and sign over their souls!” He flung a hand out, for the first time acknowledging Eddie by pointing at his shirt. “Just look at that! It’s awful!”  

"Hey." Eddie said, hand going over his very well drawn dragon.

“I once had to stop an argument about how much weight a wooden bridge could hold.” Steve countered, hands moving to his hips. “I only got them to stop by agreeing to take the kids to a library so they could look it up.” 

He squinted, in Carver's direction, deadpanning; "I take it you think the library is evil now too?"

“The name of the club is called Hellfire!” Jason shrieked, sounding more like an angry teakettle than anything dangerous. 

“Look I get that it sounds scary,” Steve said, the tiniest hint of pity entering his voice, “but they’re trying to make math problems and English essays sound cool. It’s the same reason Father John here calls our annual haunted house Hell House, isn’t it? So people go in it to begin with?” 

Harrington turned to look expectantly at the priest, and Eddie had to admit it was an excellent way to both pander to the guy and sound like Jason was making a big deal out of nothing. 

Perhaps, he’d stay quiet after all. 

(Even if it went against Eddie’s entire being to do so.)

“Well, yes, but--” Father John had clearly picked up on the fact he was losing this particular argument, but plowed forward regardless. “Those activities are supervised by the church…” 

“This is evil Harrington, and you should know better to promote it.” Carver tacked on, like this was a two bit comedy sketch. 

“When I played it we just saved some poor town from a bad guy who set it on fire.” Steve rolled his eyes. 

Then he leaned in, converting his voice into a stage whisper that somehow projected it, giving the impression that everyone around them was listening in on a secret. 

“The doctor said it was a really good way for Dustin and Erica to process the mall fire. He’s a specialist--my mother managed to convince him to fly down to help all the kids who got hurt.” 

Eddie was 100% sure that was total bullshit, but the mere mention of Harrington's mother had seemed to have an effect on the people around them.

 Like Steve had invoked the name of an old but beloved God, not always benevolent but definitely memorable. 

“She’s always been a champion of helping when you can.” Steve spoke to the priest, like they were having a conversation between just the two of them. “Encouraging people to volunteer and helping fundraise.”

“She has been." Father John said, in the kind of instant way one does when they don’t want to offend a very large donor.  "Tell your mom I look forward to her coming back from her--ah, trip.”

 With an awkward glance to the table, he added; “...I suppose I don’t see how math comes into play?” 

“Oh it’s right from the start. Hey Jeff, come here, show Father John how you have to do a bunch of calculations and stuff to make a character.” 

“Ah--right.” Jeff sprung to life, moving around the table to Steve.

“We uh, we start with this character sheet…” 

“Eddie Munson runs the club.” Jason interrupted, before Steve could get Jeff to going.

“He’s right there! Does he look like this whole thing is just an innocent board game?” 

This was a last ditch effort, and it was clear by the chattering that had started circling amongst their audience that everyone knew it. 

Unfortunately, it was a good one.

This was the downside to making yourself a target. Once a bad guy, always a bad guy--particularly in the eyes of the PTA. 

“Munson?” Harrington dismissed with a scoff. “He’s harmless.” 

Which was news to most of their audience given the amount of attention Eddie suddenly had on him, but it was fine. 

He was used to the disapproving stares and glares, and gave his best award winning smile in response. 

Jason looked at Harrington like he’d lost his mind. 

“He has skulls on his fingers for fucks sake!” 

“Jason.” Steve admonished, in a perfect mimic of an upset southern mother. “Language.” 

Carver's jaw dropped, face purpling in rage.

Steve ignored him, turning back to the Priest. “I don’t know what's gotten into him but I’m sorry Jason’s wasted your time, Father.” 

“Munson is a drug dealer!” And ah, here came the Hail Mary move, Carver's one and only trump card.

“We all know he’s a drug dealer, and he’s using this--this game, to give drugs to kids!”

“Really?” Steve turned. “Lucas, what happens if I ever catch you smoking weed?” 

Lucas answered instantly. “You’re going to make us run laps at five in the morning.” 

“For a month.” Dustin added, with an exaggerated shudder. 

It would have been too much--except his disgusted face sold it. 

“Eddie’s just loud and wants to be a rockstar.” Harrington said, like this he was harmless.

No one on Steve's side of things had ever thought of Eddie as harmless.

 “I’ve babysat these kids for years and Eddie was a huge help in making sure no one in high school messed with them.” He continued, like they were some sort of team or friends even.

(Like Eddie hadn't been at Harrington's throat all day, pissy and defensive.)

“We have a real bullying problem right now. Funny enough,” Steve’s nailed Jason with a look, “I keep hearing that it’s coming from the basketball team.” 

“What are you implying?” Jason asked darkly. 

“Just that it’s funny how nobody got caught fighting when I was team captain.” Steve returned. 

God the man was such a bitch. Eddie kind of wanted to kiss him a little. 

Okay, more than a little.

“I get you have some kind of beef with Munson, but let’s not drag a bunch of people into it. Especially not Father John.” Harrington was playing up to the mothers around him now, dismissing Carver entirely as he did so. “He’s a busy guy.”

“Very.” Said Father nodded solemnly. “I do not appreciate being pulled into a high school squabble.” 

Jason’s mouth swam through shapes, words stuttering out of it. “This isn’t, thats not--”

“We can talk about this after church on Sunday.” Father John interrupted, the finishing blow to Carver's little show.

“You came all this way, at least have a cookie on us.” Steve said with an appeasing tone, reaching an arm back behind him.

Quick on the uptake, a cookie appeared in his hands. 

He offered it out to the priest, who took it happily.

"Okay, who wants cake!?” He called, in a clear and obvious dismissal of Jason. 

Who stood there, like he couldn’t believe what just happened. 

His eyes slid to Eddie's, fists clenched tightly at his side, hatred pouring off him so strongly one could almost taste it.

Eddie winked at him.

(Unknown to him at the time, Jason had also looked at Steve--and Steve would wink too.)

xXx

Steve Harrington, who Eddie had been an absolute ass all day too, had looked Jason Carver, a Priest and half of Hawkins in the eye and announced that he, Eddie Munson, was a good person at heart.

It made Eddie want to vomit a little when he thought about it too hard.

“I know this is horrible timing,” Robin said, sidling up as the crowd finally dispersed, “but I really, really need to talk to you.” 

Eddie turned, head full of far too many thoughts and ready to tell her such, when he caught sight of Buckley's face. 

Was reminded, by the sheer nervous, ‘horse about to bolt’ vibe, that he owed it to Robin as a fellow queer not to be a dick about her accidental outing.

Even if all he wanted was to preen in the wake of Carver’s defeat. 

‘See Mothers of Hawkins? Your own golden boy just gave me his stamp of approval!’ 

A mental image that immediately changed to Steve Harrington’s name stamped on his ass and dammit he had to get ahold of his thoughts before he fell down rabbit holes like this--!

“Back there, at the stairs,” Robin started, voice dropping low, and Eddie didn’t miss the way her eyes kept seeking out Steve, like he was some kind of safety net--which he probably was. “What um--what did you hear?” 

It took a lot of guts to come talk to him, knowing what he'd overheard--particularly given they'd just fended off the church.

He'd never exactly underestimated Robin Buckley, but then, he'd never expected this level of badassery from her either.

“Eddie?” Robin prodded again, chewing hard on her bottom lip.

“Sorry, distracted.” Eddie waved a hand behind himself. “Not everyday the King decides to defend your honor to a priest.” 

With a little bow, he offered his elbow out to her, a clear signal to take it and let him escort them away from unwanted ears.

In a show of bravery, Robin took his elbow and let him lead, even as she frowned up at him, looking like she was about to say something.

Likely it was in defense of Harrington, but Eddie had been interrupted enough for one day. 

“You and His Highness over there really should be more aware of your surroundings." He started, voice low. "Lucky for you, you’re among friends. You and Dorothy both.” 

He reached a foot out, tapping Robin’s own. 

Right on top of a doodled pair of tits. 

Robin let go of his elbow and glanced down, before flinging her head right back up, panicked.

"I--"

“If you’d like I can pretend I never heard a thing.” Eddie interrupted, dropping his voice into the gentler tone he reserved for delicate conversations.

People were always surprised by the lengths he went to make sure someone was comfortable--but then, people also forgot how often Eddie heard things he shouldn’t. 

People didn't take drugs just for fun, after all.

“Or I can offer a friend of a friend discount on my wares,” He put a finger to his lips, miming smoking with one hand while he opened his vest with the other to flash the little pink triangle pin that sat inside, announcing his own sexualities status.

“and we can, say, discuss the differences between radical and social feminism while admiring the fine forms of Susan Sarandon and Peter Hinwood?”

The smile he gets is two parts relief, one part genuine delight and Eddie grinned right back at her, flicking his vest closed.

“I did not take you for a Peter Hinwood type.” Robin said it hesitantly, still waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Thought you’d find Tim Curry’s…acting skills, more to your taste.”

“In the case of Rocky Horror? I am Tim Curry.” He announced, loud and proud (well for this kind of conversation at least.) 

He was rewarded by the tension finally melting out of Robin’s shoulders. 

(This, Eddie reflected, is what he should have been doing this entire time, instead of getting tied up in knots over Harrington and turning into some kind of non-conformist tyrant.) 

“Do you actually know the differences between social and radical feminism?” Robin challenged, braver now, and Eddie knew then and there he’d been successful in assuring her her secret was safe.

That she was safe, with him.

“Guess you’ll have to find out.” Eddie said, giving a playful nudge to her shoulder. 

Baths in the laugh he gets for it, and for the first time today feels like he’s finally on firmer ground.

They chatted for a moment longer, making a loop on the very outskirts of the gym, voices hushed when it came to things that small town ears shouldn’t overhear--but of course, Robin couldn’t just leave things at that.

“Hey Eddie?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Can you do me one more favor?”

“Anything for you, my favorite feminist.” 

For the first time since this conversation started, Robin managed to sound firm. 

“Stop referring to Steve as a King.” 

She rushed ahead, anticipating being cut off, and thus Eddie is hit with a wave of words, none of which he’d ever thought he’d hear in relation to thee Steven Harrington. 

“He’s working really hard to get away from it, the whole King thing and how he used to be. I don’t know what all he did to like--you guys,” She flapped her hand in the general direction of Hellfire, “and I know he wasn’t an innocent bystander, but I kinda realized over the summer that I blamed him for a lot of things that were in my own head, and that he wasn’t--he was never as bad as I thought he was and he's still trying to make it up to me anyway.”

Robin trailed off, seeming to try and piece out what she wanted to say next without giving away the whole farm. “It’s not some act, Eddie. Steve’s really trying to change.” 

Which yeah.

Eddie could see that, now. 

Maybe not before but…

“Okay.” He said, after a long, long moment. “No more King Steve. Got it.”

The smile he got for that also felt like a victory, even if it was wrenched out of him.

xXx

Two hours and a dispersed crowd later, Eddie found himself once again stuck in his own head. 

The facts were thus:

Steve Harrington was a good dude. 

He used his good dude-ness to save Hellfire from a literal priest, right smack in front of God and Principal Hairy Ass both

All of Hellfire actually liked him 

According to Robin Buckley, Steve was entirely fine with “all us triangles” quote/unquote 

And;

Eddie was jealous.

He was self aware enough to admit it, alongside the fact that Jason Carver aside, maybe Eddie had been the villain today instead of Steve. 

Which meant he not only owed Harrington an apology, but he owed it to both of them to work out his own stupid shit before it blew up in his face and cost him all his friends.

(He’d have called this move “pulling a Harrington” before today but now that feels mean, which Eddie supposes signals he’s grown as a person or some shit.) 

So now he sits on Steve’s beemer, knowing the move will likely antagonize the ex-jock but equally knowing he’s planning on jumping off the car the second the guy comes near, and that the move itself will get Harrington to listen to him the second he’s done supervising whatever Hellfire’s youngest is doing.

(Eating leftover cookies like the older members are as they finish packing up, Eddie assumes.) 

Ducking out like he did had allowed him some much needed time to think things though. Figure out what he was going to say--without an audience present.

He’d apologize publicly if he had to. But being vulnerable is hard, and given the way his friends had been acting, Steve isn’t the only person he owes an apology to. 

For now, he’ll begin here, without an audience. 

Eddie doesn’t get to plan for long--only gets to rehearse a few lines of his little spiel when a pointed cough jerks him back to reality. 

There stands Steve Harrington, a fat wad of cash in one hand and a box in the other.

Like a man sent to the gallows, Eddie leapt off the beemer, squaring his shoulders. 

He could do this.

 Apologize-- and mean it. 

Not that Steve gave him the chance to. 

“The guys told me to give this to you.” He said, holding out the cash. Then he took a breath, like he was preparing to go to war, and added; 

“I know you weren’t happy with me being here, and you probably don’t want this, but Dustin said you really liked cinnamon brownies so I made you some.” 

The box was now held out alongside the cash, proof that Steve had tried to start this whole thing off on the right foot. 

Eddie stared at it, then at Steve. 

Felt the guilt chew on his gut just that much harder.

“I have been shitty to you all day. Why are you giving me this?” 

Steve shrugged. 

“To be fair I didn’t exactly make it easy on you either. You said jump and I said ‘watch this’.” Steve laughed, a small, almost self depicting sound. “Dustin’s been on my ass all day about it.” 

Of course he had. 

“Mine too.” Eddie admitted. “It's his tone, I swear."

“Yes!” 

Carefully, Eddie reached out, accepted the box and the cash. 

“Thanks by the way. For the stuff you said about me earlier.” 

Steve grimaced, cheeks tinting a (lickable) red. “Yeah sorry, I--”

“No not--not that stuff.’ Eddie said, mentally hauling his thoughts back in line, fiddling with the cash. “The stuff about being a good person. No one’s uh. Said that. About me.”

Not except for Wayne, but Harrington wouldn’t know nor care about Eddie’s uncle. 

Steve shrugged. “I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” 

He’d argue that, except something was off. 

It took Eddie a moment to place it--that the wad Steve handed over was way too big for the little bake sale they’d just attended. 

He tucked the box under his arm, quickly counting the stack with a smoothness only drug dealers and bank tellers could manage.

“It’s all there, I promise.” Steve told him simply, but without judgment. He sounded like he expected this and that didn’t sit right with Eddie either. 

Not that he could do anything about it because he’d just counted up didn’t make any sense. 

Not trusting himself, Eddie stacked it back together, before counting it all again. He was faster this time, trying to figure out among all the ones, fives and tens how the hell they had managed to sell that many cookies. 

Particularly considering the most expensive thing was one of the cakes and he’d watched Steve sell it for fifteen dollars. 

So why were there three twenties sitting in the stack? 

“Either you up charged the absolute shit out of someone’s mom, in which case I congratulate you, you sneaky devil,” Eddie said slowly, “Or you put extra cash in here.” 

Steve blushed properly this time. 

Eddie zeroed in on his face, watching as Steve rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, trying to pull his charming mask into place.

He didn't quite manage it.

Hadn’t even been wearing it before now, Eddie realized suddenly.

This entire conversation Steve had a realness to him that Eddie had never really seen. 

Had maybe not wanted to see, from someone like Harrington. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” Steve protested, like a kid who’d been caught with a hand in the cookie jar. “That’s what we charged.” 

“You are a terrible liar.” Eddie accused, hand trembling. “We can’t take this, man. This is a almost two hundred dollars.” 

Way more than what they’d need for Gen Con. It was enough to get them two fuckin’ hotel rooms! 

“If It helps any, I didn’t do it for you.” Steve’s blush slid into something more genuine, as he nodded his head to where Hellfire was spilling out of the gym doors, laughing and shoving one another. 

“They deserve to have a good trip.” He added, eyes fond as he watched Dustin and Mike squabble over how to fold Hellfire's banner.

It made his whole face soften, the harsh features of his jaw turning into something that was so adorable Eddie wanted to bite through it. 

“Do you want to come?” Someone said, and it took both Steve’s startled look and a second long pause for Eddie to realize that someone was him.

Stupid, stupid, stupid-! 

“To the convention?” Steve asked, looking doubtful. 

Pity that Eddie was already nodding, like his brain and his body were at a total disconnect.

Maybe aliens had finally taken him over. Or a demon. 

(Demonic possession could frankly explain a lot about today, Carver’s weird little power play aside.)

“Dude you don’t even like me.” Steve said. “Why would you want me to come along?” 

“I dunno Harrington. All of Hellfire seemed to like you, and not just my freshman.” Eddie countered easily, gliding right over the fact that he himself did like Steve.

Way more than he should, and that right there was half of Eddie’s problem. 

“They have pretty good taste in things.” He waived a hand, as if this wasn’t a complete 180 from how he’d acted all day. “I could understand if you didn’t want to slum it with us nerds though.”

Steve rolled his eyes. 

“I’ve been slumming it all day with you nerds, if you haven’t noticed.” 

“Yeah? What’s your verdict on us?” 

“Not as bad as you could be.” 

Eddie tilted his head back and laughed. “High praise from the King!”

He felt bad immediately after, and made himself promise to be more mindful about Robin’s ask--but  thankfully Harrington didn’t take it hard. 

(Habits, Eddie knew, were hard to change.

Took a lot of careful attention to change. 

He had a long road ahead of him, and he hoped this little olive branch put him a few miles down it.) 

Steve awarded him a small smile. “I haven’t been the King for a long while, man. But if you guys have an opening, I think I wouldn’t mind being a knight or whatever.” 

“Ste-eeeve Harrington, defender of the realm.” Eddie nodded once, decisively. “I can see it.”

He tucked away the cash, and thus missed how Steve looked weirdly contemplative at that. 

Raised his head and stuck out a hand. 

Tentatively, Steve took it. 

“Welcome to the club, Harrington. We meet on Fridays. Bring snacks.” 

“Cookies okay?”

“Going by Gareth’s judgment, they’re more than okay.”

Eddie smiled and Steve smiled back, and God how he hated how fucking cute Harrington’s face was. 

Particularly since he now got to think of the guy as “Steve” without feeling weird about it. 

As in his possible, potential, friend Steve.

What a fucking trip that was. 

“Oh, and Steve?” He called, the thought hitting him as Steve turned to welcome the group making their way to the beemer.

Steve had let his hand fall, turning to open the front door of the Beemer with a cocked eyebrow.

Eddie flicked a finger out, lightly tapping the Hellfire logo. “Tell Lucas I’ll get him another shirt. That one’s all yours, big boy.” 

If there was a pink hue to Harrington’s cheeks, he was blaming sunburn. 

(Two months, six days, and one meddlesome asshole named Henderson later, and Eddie would find out that Steve had in fact, been blushing.

He’d be furious at Dustin’s involvement, if it hadn’t directly led to Eddie finding out Steve’s blush did in fact go down his chest.

And his happy trail.

And his--

Well.

Men do not kiss and tell. 

Not to fucking freshmen, anyway.) 

THERE IS A GEN CON, "THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED BECAUSE DUSTIN IS A MEDDLESOME SHIT" BONUS BUT it's on A03 cause it was long enough to be its own post and I wasn't gonna add it to this one. You can read it here LINK

[inumakis-boo]

May I have some dating Toge Inumaki headcanons? Both sfw and NSFW... If you're comfortable.

TOGE INUMAKI ♫₊˚.🎧 ✧💬

headcanons 𓍢ִ˖ hello and thank you for the requests! i am current rediting all of my posts, so if this looks a little different than when you first saw it, thats the reason why!

anyways, i hope all of you enjoy! and if course, NSFW will be tagged and is written for a female perspective.

safe for work headcanons

- would probably not notice each other the first time you meet, maybe an interested glance but it doesn't really hit until the second or third time that he really sees you

- probably asks for your number just so yall can talk better, and once you do, its an instant connection. he literally wouldnt be able to stop, staying up all night to text you

- texts you out of the blue, and although probably feels embarrassed to double text, he is just that interested in you

- would totally deliever a bag of goodies he bought at the store for you, and additionally maybe offer to make you a lunch to try before he makes it for everyone else

- you comment on one of his t-shirts he wears and he puts it in one of the goodie bags he buys you, doused in his cologne because he wants you to think of him

- would totally send annoying memes and tiktoks and bully you over text, also play 8-ball COMPETITIVELY cause he aint gonna lose to you (he doesnt even pity lose to you)

- shows up unannounced just to kiss you in the door frame of your dorm room as a goodnight and then leaves you there

- that is until you invite him over to your dorm at night and he brings post-it notes and teaches you his semi-bilingual language for easier understanding, and utterly loves you for it

- the talking stage would be him just pining over you cosntantly, writing it all down in journals or in his notes app

- after yall started dating, it is very much a no public affection mostly because he doesnt want anybody to be in your business. especially with his noisy ass friends

- but no matter what, he is going to hold your hand, especially when going on dates and walking around campus at night (would definitely talk u into sneaking out)

- he would be hesistant to kiss you even after yall became offical, probably go a few weeks before you just say it straight that you want him to kiss you and you dont even get it all out before hea pinning you to a door and giving you the best kiss of your life

- would absolutely use his speech on you so you cannot resist it when he tickles you or when you are beating him in a game

- he is not the sappiest guy, but if you start to get sappy over a movie or a sad book, he will rub your back and give you head-kisses to help you feel better

below is not safe for work content. mdni.

not safe for work headcanons

- you find out very quickly into the relationship that he cannot resist a challenge of any kind. therefore, using that to your advantage always works out

- challenging him through text to sneak out of his dorm will work, but ofc he wants a prize at the end (you are on your knees for the next hour)

- the benefit of his speech is that you don't feel any fatigue whatsoever during its use, so that makes it really easy to make your body endure while you deep-throat him over and over.

- it doesn't diminish the pleasure though; being told to stay still while he fondles your chest takes away nothing from the experience, and he knows how much you like having no choice.

- not that even if it was tiring, you wouldn't let him throat-fuck you, the noises he makes are heavenly for someone who can't speak straight, the struggle of watching him grip the bedframe and biting his lips so he doesn't utterly ruin you is SO worth a bruised throat.

- he might be nervous to use his speech on you the first time, but after you make sure that you can handle it, its becomes so much more confident in using it

- he loves making out with you, he loves making your lips red with all the biting, he wants to see them glossy and wet right before he puts his fingers in your mouth (you know where they are going next)

- sexting is so fun, yall thought it might be cringy, but its literally the best when he calls you with a command and he gets to listen to you whimper and moan as he jerks off to it, can be totally unexpected

- "Ride me."

- hand on your thigh when nobody can see, and his pinky is awfully close to your panties that it makes you nervous.

- ofc he can easily make you cum, but will he always let you? not without a cute little 'please' hes not. begging is fun, isnt it?

- lets be honest, the dick game is so good he don't even have to tell you to go to sleep after

- ofc he would definitely lay it down on you exactly how he described through text, and then clean you with special wipes he bought from the store because he aint a dickhead, duh.

I have so many more, especially for different situations, so lmk if you want more! Thank u for all the support as of recently!

bye pookies!

[redeyerhaenyra]

Sleeping Beauty

Summary: After having sex with Jake, you both fall asleep in your flat. Only, it's not Jake that wakes up, it's Steven.

Warnings: Hidden relationship, reader is mentioned having sex with Jake, jealousy on Steven's part, vaginal fingering, a sprinkling of dry humping, cunnilingus, Steven cums in his pants, fem reader, one use of (Y/N)

Notes: Debuting Steven onto my blog :) this fix was heavily inspired by @blue-beeeeeeery 's post

Wc: 1.9k

You’d been dating Jake for a while, having met him as your cab driver after a night out with your friends. In the time you’d been together, he’d opened up to you about his DID, and his alters; Marc and Steven. You hadn’t met them yet, and it seemed to be a little bit of a touchy subject for him, so you didn’t push it. Besides, you adored Jake, even if there were two other men living in his head, you were sure you could come to love them, too. 

Despite not pushing it, you had asked why it was Jake wouldn’t introduce you to his alters, and he had told you that they were both… skittish, in a way. That you would meet them, that he wanted you to, but he worried to spring it on too soon. And who could blame him? Hearing that your alter had a partner you didn’t know about would understandably be perplexing at the very least. Though, it made you smile- Jake may have acted like a big, scary, cigarette smoking tough guy, but he really cared, especially about Steven. You’d gathered he was the “innocent little brother” of the group, the one to be looked after. He seemed so sweet, even when Jake would complain about him. And you knew one day you’d see him for yourself. Jake was naturally protective, over you and over his alters. It warmed your heart to know he was waiting for them to be ready to hear that they technically had a girlfriend they didn’t know about.

Besides, the reason he hadn’t told them when you had first met, is because they didn’t know he existed apparently. You had called him shy, and he had grumbled that he wasn’t, he was just fulfilling his role in the system. The protector, doing the dirty work for Khonshu when Marc couldn’t, and then slipping back into the shadows when it was done. It sounded lonely, you told him. It was, he replied, until he met you. Jake could be so romantic when he wanted to.

And so here you were, laying cuddled up to who you thought was Jake, the darkness outside told you it was still the early hours of the morning. You were only half awake anyway- fucking Jake always took something out of you. It was exhausting, in the best way.

You decided to stay like this, for a while. Jake normally woke up hours before you, kissing you goodbye and sending you a text later that hoped you “Had a good sleep, hermosa,” and so you relished the little extra time you had with him. It felt a little demeaning, for him at least, having to sneak in and out like he was a teenager, but you pushed through it, for Jake and his alters. Your eyes blinked back closed, willing yourself to not sleep too deeply, so that you might give him a proper goodbye when he left your flat.

The air was quiet, still. Peaceful. The only sounds were yours and his breathing. The warmth of him behind you, his arm curled just under your breasts lulled you to sleep once again. And meanwhile, as you fell back into sleep, someone else was rising from it. Though, it wasn’t Jake.  

Steven blearily opened his eyes, and groaned. Despite having just woken up, his body felt tired… but in a good way. And he was spooning something soft..  and warm. His vision cleared- and he nearly jumped back in shock. There was a woman…. in his bed, but it wasn’t his bed, and this wasn’t his flat. He whimpered in shock as she moved against him, moaning as you stretched your arms above your head.

“You up already, papí?”

Papí… definitely Jake. Steven gulped. He knew his other alters were more experienced with women than he was, but this was just silly. His eyes raked over you, your form cuddled beneath the blankets, your hair sprawled about the pillow like a halo. Gosh.. you were pretty. He found himself thinking that Jake had good taste. He shook his head free of the thought- he needed to leave as fast as he could. As much as Jake cared about his alters, so did Steven. And thought he’d been wishing for a girlfriend for forever, but he wouldn’t go as far as to turn off one of Jake’s “scores” with his awkwardness. Steven had no idea how adorable he was. 

When he didn’t answer, you turned over, squinting at him, blinking the sleep from your eyes; “Jake?”

Steven froze. God, you were gorgeous. Ohhhh it wasn’t fair. Why did Jake have to be the best with women…. 

“Jake? Are you alright?” Your hands came to cup his face, as you examined him for any sign of sickness, or anything else that might make him freeze so suddenly. 

“ ‘M fine-!” Steven’s voice broke a little as he choked out a reply. Oh, good one Steven. You were wise to his sudden change in accent, sounding more like he was from London now. Your hands quickly retracted, and you gasped.

“…Not Jake?” “No-“ Steven gulped, you shifted away from him, Steven was sure it was to make him more comfortable, but he found himself internally begging you to shift closer.  “Steven..?” You breathed out; “…Y-yeah, uh.. who’re you? W-where am I?” 

You sighed, knowing that this conversation was going to happen one way or another. You put your hands up in a show of mercy; “My name is (Y/N)… this is my flat.. I’m uh… I’m Jake’s girlfriend.”

Steven’s eyes widened. “Oh.” “Yeah..” “….Well why didn’t I know he had a bloody girlfriend.”You giggled. At least he wasn't freaking out too much. "He didn't want to shock you, I.. I've known him since before he started to show himself to you and Marc." Steven nodded along. "Well I have to say, waking up in a strange woman's bed is pretty shocking..." You giggled again. "-Yes, sorry, he usually wakes up hours before me to go back to your place." "Oh right.." Steven sniffed.

"Um.. d-did you, uh... I mean, have you.." He motioned to your neck- Jake liked to leave hickeys. You caressed the marks, only just now realising they were there.

"Oh- um, do you mean..?" "Uh.. yeah- sorry it's just.. we share a body, y'know.." "No no I get it-! Um, yes, yes we did." He was, of course, not so subtly asking if you and Jake had had sex last night.

"Oh, right- I mean, it's fine! Obviously, you're like, together, and that's like, normal- sorry I'm making this so weird." The smile you gave him was sympathetic. "No, it's alright," you had told him, but your words had fallen into a buzz around him. Steven was deep in his thoughts- sure, it was Jake you'd had sex with, but they shared a body. What had he done with you? You'd had sex, but how? What did you like? As his mind spiralled, he felt his cock twitch a little beneath his boxers. Only a few hours ago, probably, his body had been inside you. His hands had probably made you cum a dozen times- Steven knew that's at least what he'd want to do with you...

"-Steven?" His thoughts cleared, "God, sorry love, head's all over the place today.." You hummed.

"You're really pretty." Steven's comment made the both of you blush, and you could've said the same of him. You hadn't noticed until now that you had subconsciously been shuffling closer to one another in the bed. Your noses were close to touching now, and you decided to take the plunge.

Steven whimpered as your lips met his, and while he was eager, it was strange that he be so inexperienced, considering, again, that he shared a body with Jake. His hands were greedy, but anxious. The trembling in his fingers gave presence to his mounting desire to touch you, and gently you guided his hands to your hips. That was all the encouragement he needed, his grip became suddenly a lot more confident, clutching your hips tightly before travelling down to squeeze your bum. He moaned with you, grinding your hips into the hot pressure of his cock against your tummy, his touch against you hungry, like an excitable dog.

You whined at the sudden loss of his mouth, biting your lip as he kissed his way down your neck.

"Bloody Jake, 's not fair, he always gets the girls, 's not fair, I'll show him-" Your thoughts were getting a little hazy, and the throbbing in your core became more and more apparent.

"Steven.." You breathed, if nothing else, he was eager to prove himself, fingers deftly ripping your panties down off of you.

"I can do it just as well as he can, you watch-" Steven didn't waste any time licking his way up to your clit, and sucking on it like a man starved. You cried out, hands falling to grip his soft curls. He was moaning and whimpering into you, just as you were above him. The seam of his boxers caught so deliciously on the head of his cock, and he all but cried into your cunt and he rocked his hips against the mattress.

Your hand came up to cover your moans, but Steven was having none of it, he halted his assault on your pussy, switching his tongue out for his fingers, deftly sliding inside of you, as you keened.

"No, no, none of that love, wanna hear ya, yeah?" Tears welled up in your eyes, and your toes curled as his fingers finally, finally found the spot. You writhed in pleasure, tugging harder on his hair. His mouth came back to suckle your clit, pistoning his fingers inside you with all the expertise that you would not have expected from him.

This hot mess contiuned for a while, until you were throwing your head back, pleasure soaring through your every nerve as you came all over Steven’s face, and he gladly drank your essence straight from the source. He didn't stop, though, he just kept going, the wet pad of his tongue doing wonders at overstimulating you- and from his canting hips and repeated whimpers, you could tell he was close too. It became too much however, and roughly you tugged his head up off of you, seemingly giving him the boost of masochistic pleasure he needed to tip himself over the edge, spilling himself into his boxers, moaning and drooling where he lay his head on your thigh.

You stayed like that for a moment, marvelling at Steven's beauty. He had his juices all over his face, messy boy. And had some of it gotten in his hair? He was a needy baby, too. He soon decided that he just wasn't close enough to you, and crawled up your body to snuggle himself between your breasts, sighing. His voice was muffled a little; "Was it good?" And you almost audibly "awed" at how cute he was being. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, and you kissed his head;

"It was amazing Steven." He hummed, still a little jealous it seemed, "Bet Jake doesn't do that." You swatted his head lightly. "Don't be mean." "Just teasing love.."

It was still dark outside. Pussy-eating was a tiring activity, it seemed, as you felt Steven cuddle his way back to sleep in your arms. You kissed his head again, unconsciousness soon taking you as well. Steven was more resilient to new information than Jake thought, it seemed.

[likesomeoneinlovee]

𝐀 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐓𝐇

Arthur Morgan x f!reader, 18+, wc: 1k

Author’s note: Quick !Colter Arthur fic because I restarted my game and I’m on chapter 1 again Summary: You and Arthur had just got back from a hunting trip in the harsh weather and decided there might just be a better way to warm up than a fire. Warnings: NSFW, Quickie, PIV sex, pull out, no proof read, female reader.

Damn the cold, damn this new camp. Colter felt like hell on earth if hell had froze over, even in the run-down houses still left in the old mining camp the cold air was blistering. You and Arthur stood just outside one of the house’s log frame with your backs against it. The two of you kept your cigarettes between your lips, puffing on them as you smoked together. You and Arthur had been hunting for some deer for Pearson so no one would be left hungry as well as cold, those two didn’t mix well.

Your foot tapped against the snow as you took the cigarette between your fingers. “You’d think it’s the dead of winter when it’s meant to be spring.” You spoke so the gusts of wind drove by the blizzard wouldn’t be the only sound against the silence.  

“That’s what we get for goin’ up the mountains. Damnit.” He complained, rightfully so. After Blackwater it was the gang’s only choice I suppose, and finding a place not already swarming with people who we’d have to kill just for a place to live, now that was a damn near blessing. If you could even believe in those anymore. Your thoughts were quickly cut off by his words.

“I’d do anything for some goddamn warmth.” 

Oh, now he’d do anything. You’d quickly push the idea out of your head before it could fully form, he was your friend anyway, definitely not your lover.

But then again what’s so wrong with a quick fuck to get warmed up? 

Dutch and Hosea were currently inside the cabin you two were leaned against starting a fire. Though it seemed like a simple quick task that could be done quickly by them, your body ached for warmth, you wouldn’t dare to wait that long. Waiting felt like an absurdity to you and you were beginning to realize why, maybe your body didn’t ache for the comfortable warmth of a fire, maybe it was just dying to get it’s hands on Arthur—

He inhaled his cigarette one last time, savoring the tase of burning tobacco before flicking it into the snow onto the ground. His muscles tense from the cold. He could see your eyes burning into the side of his head, tracing his jawline, he huffed before turning to face you. “You ain’t waitin’ for that fire either, are ya?” 

He read you like an open book, or maybe that wasn’t it. He could’ve been thinking the same as you this entire time. 

That was the truth of it. 

“No, I ain’t, Morgan.” You let the words slip out, of course just thinking about the bulk of his muscles against you could warm you up all in itself. The heavy breaths coming from his parted lips told you enough. He pushed himself from the wall to stand in-front of you, his large hands now on your shoulders, guiding you so your back could press tighter against the cabin, leaving no room between. It was too easy to go so unspoken, as if you two had been waiting for any excuse to do this that it only took few words to convince each other. Guess now that turned into a fact. “You’re gonna let me touch you?” 

“Am I-“ Your words caught your throat before you could repeat his sentence, you couldn’t act like how you felt before you yelp a quick and excited ‘Yes!’ at his whisper. “For a minute.” Your voice a tad muffled by the cigarette hanging from your plump lips, tinted red from the cold, along with your cheeks. His hands slipped to your forearms, pressing himself against you. He threw his hat off into the snow, frustrated it was getting in the way as he tried to press your foreheads together, discarding just like his cigarette. The tips of your noses brushing against each other. “Christ you’re warm.” 

He’d move one of his hands to take the cigarette from your lips before it could burn his chin, he already had enough scars there. Your eyes completely fixed on his lips with no excuse, feeling his breath fan your face, silently praying that no one would come around the corner.

“Shit, y’know I just lit that? You said regarding your cigarette, this was hit with a quick, nearly harsh “I don’t care.” from him. He couldn’t stand the cold anymore. Taking you into a deep, open-mouthed kiss, his tongue quickly pushing into your mouth. It was like a war on your body had now begun; his hips snapped against yours once before ripping his lips from yours with a deep growl ripping from his throat, he quickly grew needy, bunching up your layers of skirt before his hands quickly moved to pick you up. Your thighs instinctively wrapped tight around his waist as he pressed you against that same wall. He moved one of his hands down where his belt would be if his goddamn coat weren’t so long, his face pressed against your shoulder as he tried to work around it.

“Fuck.” He’d grunt, his fingers working at the belt once found, with gloved hands this was even more frustratingly difficult on his part, but as he did always, he managed to undo it, tugging his pants down to his thighs. You on the other hand were less patient, your hand has been under your skirt, and instead of taking off your panties you had ripped them completely, Arthur noticed when you threw the torn piece of lace onto the matching white snow. 

He’d guide himself under your skirt, his hand wrapped around his cock as he circled your sopping cunt with his head, surprised to say the least when he felt how soaked you were in such a short amount of time, now he’d wonder what you were thinking about to get you like this. He wouldn’t vocalize what he was thinking, instead focusing on doing this quick and fast. In and out.

He took his first thrust into you, stretching you to fit around his thick shaft. Though it put you into pure ecstasy. You knew better not to be loud, the thudding of your back hitting the log wall with every pound into your pussy was enough to peak someone’s curiosity. Your hand was tight over your mouth to suppress your moans. Arthur not wearing his hat gave you a perfect excuse to tangle your fingers in his sandy locks, tugging at them almost to silently say ‘Hurry up.’

Though you’d prefer this to last, you’d know every single one of his delicious, deep thrusts will only live on in your head for the next century. His pace got even rougher, more sloppy than before as he pumped himself faster. Pulling all the way out just to slam his cock back in. 

“Goddamn you’re tight, princess- fuckin’ makin’ me lose control.” He’d rasp right into your ear. His words broke you down into even more of a shaking mess than you were. The combination of his words and his tip hitting your g-spot over, and over, and over again sent you over the edge, your cunt clenched around him, now he didn’t want you to alert nobody, of course. His mouth took yours into — once again — a deep, messy kiss, feeling your moan vibrate down his throat. He’d grip your thigh with one hand, keeping you against the wall as he used his other to help himself out of you, spitting into his palm to add extra slickness to his already cum-covered cock, tightening his grip around it to mimic your pussy, though he couldn’t get it that right. With a few more pumps from his hand he’d cum over his fist, with a low drawn out “Fuccccckkkkk…” 

You marveled at the sight, seeing Morgan’s O-face wasn’t something you could ever imagine not even in your sick mind, seeing his eyebrows furrowed together as his jaw slacked, it was something else to say the least. Your words were stolen from you after everything that had happen, somehow now hot even standing in the cold snow with your skirt hitched around your hips.

When you heard the door creek open in the distance you two hastily got yourself out of that position, adjusting your coats as you quickly tugged your layered skirt down to your boots once again. A small pant almost of relief came from you as you saw it was Dutch leaving the cabin, of course he walked straight, if he’d only have turned a bit he could’ve saw the sight of you and Arthur standing there with flushed faces, various things scattered the snow around you — including your panties.

You picked the ripped fabric off of the ground, still a bit shocked it had even come to this. “This might’ve been my only pair.” The silence was broken by your words, at the least you got a weak chuckle from Arthur, your cheeks flushing at the sound. You two were completely spent.

Later into the night you two were actually in the cabin this time; sitting in two separate chairs by the now lit fireplace, Arthur smoked as your hands reached in front of you to feel the warmth. The fire casting a warm light over the both of you in the otherwise dark cabin. 

“You know, that was nice.” That may have been the first you had mentioned the events from hours ago since. His eyes flicked towards you, a smirk tugged at his lips. 

“You’re a beautiful girl.” He’d reply, flattering, very much. “It’s gettin’ late. ‘Stead of walkin’ to the girl’s cabin why don’t you just stay in my bed.” He offered, and that offer you couldn’t refuse.

“I’d like that.” You’d smile at him, the both of you getting up as his took your hand into his leading you to his small bedroom.

And as you could — probably — imagine, you two didn’t exactly sleep that night. The creeks and whines of Arthur’s cot that could be heard from the other rooms told anyone with ears that.

[honeyryewhiskey]

༊*·˚ BABYDOLL ༊*·˚ — bad idea right?

༊ — invasions of privacy come with being america’s shiny new star, but when a stalker breaks into your home, it’s a line crossed. after a string of failed bodyguards, your management hires dean winchester, he doesn’t flinch at your playful, bratty charm and if pushing his buttons gets him to lean in close and lay down the rules? hell, you’re certainly not complaining. PART ONE, your phone buzzes, a text from a friend letting you know it's open mic night at TABOO, one of those trendy underground clubs. and a total hotspot for good music. you're already slipping into a cute little outfit by the time dean realizes you're not staying in like he told you to.  cw, scuffle with minor descriptions of violence, strong language, playful banter, protective dean 2.5k

masterlist — next

NEW YORK CITY 10:45PM

avril lavigne blares through the small pink speaker perched on the cluttered bathroom counter, barely noticeable amongst the vibrant mess of your makeup bag having spilled over the surface. 

you hum along to the tune, leather clad hips swaying along, with your favorite shimmery lip gloss in hand. leaning over the countertop, you carefully trace your lips with a liner before adding the gloss. the finishing touches to your entire ensemble of glittery makeup, perfectly done-up hair and a bold little leather outfit. 

you can’t even remember the last time you went out like this. it has been months of recording, performing, press tours, while also trying to evade the ever looming presence of whatever freak has become obsessed with all things you. 

you tried not to worry too much, especially not when your career was finally sky rocketing. years of hard work, never letting yourself sleep if something wasn’t crafted to perfection, draining yourself of all energy just to make a crowd scream—is all finally paying off. 

after months of cycling through bodyguards, management finally threw you one that might actually stick. you wouldn’t have been so picky if it weren’t for the fact that management insisted that the new guy becomes your other half. a room for him in your house, by your side the moment you step foot out the front door, keeping him as close as possible until the whole stalker-wanting-you-in-his-basement thing was handled. 

the other guys were annoying, awkward, or just a bad fit. but when your assistant mentioned someone who once saved her life—a guy she knew was looking for a new career—they brought in dean winchester. your first thought when you saw him: gorgeous. your second thought when you heard his gruff, no-nonsense voice lay out his rules: fun.

maybe you missed mind reader on his resume, or the loud music piqued his interest, nevertheless dean’s large frame comes into your view through the mirror. sporting a scowl that shouts both confusion and annoyance, something you‘ve come to learn is just a typical dean expression, he crosses those big arms and leans against the door frame. 

his eyes stay trained on your figure as your lips pop, working the lipgloss around. he knows you can see him, but you’re ignoring him anyways. something about this man made it so fun to mess with him. he’s professional, but not an emotionless robot. he certainly isn’t a ‘yes man’ by any means, rarely actually listening to your demands if he feels as though they impose on his rules. he’s so confident in his abilities—albeit a bit self righteous—that it’s fucking hot. 

but fucking the guy who’s signed a contract to protect you, with his life, would be a bad idea…right? 

dean pushes himself from the wall, striding over to power down the blaring speaker.. you give a quick glance as he settles against the counter, arms crossed again as he watches you busy your hands with adjusting your hair in the mirror. you catch his eye roll, “what are you doing?” he grumbles. 

you pause, mimicking his crossed arms and stepping in front of him. he’s definitely going hate this, but you’ll be damned if you miss out on a night like tonight. 

“i’m going out.” you cock a brow. 

dean’s eyes squint, “out where?”

you can’t help but roll your eyes as you sigh, “just a little club,” you smile, batting your eyes up at him, “don’t worry, you can come too.”

his scowl turns to amused surprise as his eyebrows quip, laughing through his nose, “i go where you go. kinda my whole gig, babydoll, remember?” 

there it is again, that pet name. he wasted no time in exchanging your real name for it, as if he wanted to be the only one to call you something else, something other than what the world knew you by. a name that wasn’t plastered on billboards across the states, becoming a household name, a trending twitter hashtag. to him, you were his babydoll. a pretty little thing in need of protection. 

at first, you hated it. convinced he was trying to minimize you. but in the two weeks you’ve gotten to know him, it’s become a comfort to not have to always be the dazzling star associated with your name. 

you give him a glossy pink grin, “oh, dean,” you sigh dramatically, “i’d never forget you.” 

with that you turn on your heel, leaving him in the bathroom.. heels tapping against the hardwood as you saunter towards the front door. 

“uh, huh,” he hums, swiftly following just a few paces behind you, “this is a bad idea, y’know, with everything–”

“live a little,” you throw over your shoulder, cutting him off before he can scold any further,  “c’mon killjoy, the cars waiting.”

 ༊*·˚

 taboo was one of those places where the cost of entry was either notoriety or looking like you should have notoriety. 

it’s a small club, a long bar zig zags across the back wall, illuminated in a soft orange glow. a few tables with chairs are scattered about, too, but the focus of the venue is the small stage. just enough space for a full band, decorated with leafy green vines and old persian rugs overlapping one another. bodies were already crowding the front, as a band played some new age indie track. it was packed tonight, and between the humming of the bass and drunken cheers, you don’t hear dean until he’s grabbing your wrist, his lips ghosting over your ear. 

“keep your ass close, too many people in here for you to start wanderin’ off on me.” he pulls back, his expression matching the heat of his words: he’s not playing around. 

hah.

“keep up ‘n you won’t lose me!” you shout over the music, a sly smile across your lips. 

dean twitches in agitation, opening his mouth to fire back at you when a booming voice calls your name from a few feet away. both of you snap your heads towards the sound, searching the crowded room. without looking, dean grabs your arm and pulls you closer, your shoulder bumping into his chest as his eyes continue sweeping the space, his firm grip locked around your forearm.

“so rough,” you mutter, wiggling out of his hold as an all too familiar face finds his way to you. if this city was having a contest for most douchey nepo baby in manhattan, your ex was certainly a top contender. his fox-like eyes gleam with sly amusement as he flashes a grin that makes your stomach churn. 

“there she is, america’s little sweetheart!” he shouts, his nasally voice cutting through the noise. his eyes flick up to dean, and the height difference is noticeable, making the knot of agitation in your stomach ease up. 

“good to see you too, foster—” you begin before he’s cutting you off with a smirk.

“who’s the big guy?” he nods to dean, brows knotting up as his face finds that snub look he was never good at hiding. 

“new bodyguard, dean winchester,” you answer, pausing to look at dean, who doesn’t even acknowledge foster’s presence. his sharp eyes are still scanning the room, utterly indifferent. the corner of your mouth twitches as you suppress a smile—foster hates being ignored, almost as much as he hated sharing attention when you were dating.

foster shifts uncomfortably, hiding it poorly as he sips from a short glass. “c’mon,” he says, forcing a grin as slimy as ever. “let me get you a drink.” his fingers slide toward the hem of your top, tugging lightly to pull you closer. bad idea.

dean reacts before either of you can register it. his hand clamps down on foster’s wrist, squeezing until the smug grin twists into a grimace. still unsatisfied, dean yanks foster’s arm upward, curling it back.

“hands. off,” Dean growls, his tone low and menacing. with a shove, he sends foster stumbling backward.

 “dude, you’re a fucking psycho!” foster yelps, rubbing his wrist, “keep your dog on a leash, or i’ll call my father!” he shouts before cowering away, slinking back into the crowd. 

dean doesn’t even spare him a second glance, his gaze locked onto you as he looks you over, concern lacing his eyes, “you good?”

“yeah,” you manage to say, though the weight of his piercing stare makes your stomach flip.

“who’s the douche?” he grumbles, the disgust evident in the way his nose curls. 

“my ex,” you sigh, brushing a strand of hair from your face in a futile attempt to cool your nerves, “stuck up rich kid, has never been told no kinda guy.” 

dean’s jaw tightens, jade green eyes sweeping over you like he’s still assessing for damage, but all he can see is the lingering discomfort from having to interact with foster again, “sounds like a fuckin’ loser.” 

you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out as you sheepishly nod in agreeance, “yeah, he is a fucking loser.” 

your laugh brings out that smile dean seldom shows off when he’s on the job. his big, charming grin graces you as he winks. 

thankfully, the music comes to a stop as you feel a blush creeping onto your skin. the band exits the stage with a symphony of clapping, whistling and cheering as a man in a checkered scarf and a fedora replaces them on stage. 

“alright, alright, everybody give it up for tonic water!” he cheers into the mic, another wave of noise rippling through the crowd as you sneak a glance at dean. his face is twisted in that agitated confusion again, he doesn't seem like the indie underground music type, and you make a mental note to figure out what music he does listen to. metal, classic rock, hell maybe even hair rock—

your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of your name being shouted into the mic. the crowd shares a gasp, every head on a swivel now as they all are searching for you. 

“oh, c’mon, girl! we know you’re here!” the man coos, and you spot a certain loser standing at the edge of the stage. foster tipped them off, probably using his velvet tongue to convince them you’d absolutely love this. 

open mics were once your favorite. you’d slip through bars all weekend just to get a chance at feeling the adrenaline of being on a stage. as your following grew, it became harder to just pop up somewhere without the crowd getting out of hand. but taboo prides themselves on keeping a high profile client base, the kind that might actually be fine to get in front of. so long as no one posts your location to twitter, of course. 

a few of the people around you are already pointing, excitement etched into their drunken smiles. dean’s arms have found your waist, keeping you firmly in place. 

but this, feels like a challenge, and god do you love a good challenge. 

prying yourself from dean, the crowd starts to part, an opening from you to the stage. you lean on your tip toes, tucking into dean’s ear, “i’ll be fine, just stay by the stage.��� 

pulling back, you’re met with a very unimpressed glare. but you’re already snaking away before he can yank you back, a chaos of whistling and cheering erupting again as you make your way to the stage. 

you turn on the charm, hips swaying as you flash a bright smile to the crowd. the host claps as you climb the steps to join him on stage. 

there are already musicians at each instrument, you huddle together and decide to sing a cover, something they all know how to play. 

“ready?” fedora guy asks, beaming with excitement. 

“hell yeah,” you nod, taking the mic from his hands. 

you turn, and the crowd looks much larger from this perspective. there's already a dozen little lights glowing, and your stomach flips as you hope they at least post their videos after you’ve left the club. walking out into an uncontrolled crowd of screaming fans would probably send dean into overdrive and you wouldn’t hear the end of his rantings about being impulsive and careless. 

“hey y’all,” you giggle into the mic, feeling the heat of adrenaline burn through your entire body, “we’re gonna play somethin’ i think everyone will like. a throwback to the classics, so join in if you know the words, alright?” 

the band comes in steady, the intro to the chain, vibrating against the club walls. you nod to the count, falling into the opening verse. 

the crowd echos your sounds, clapping and feet stomping to the beat heightening the symphony. bliss washes over, finding sweet comfort in the pulsing music and vibrant crowd. you take control of the small space of the stage, dancing and head banging along as you sing. you’ve already had a taste of packed stadiums, sold out venues five times larger than taboo. but you’ve missed the sultry intimacy of a smaller crowd. how it feels to be so connected to a sea of people that aren’t here just for you. it’s exhilarating, and you feel dizzy from it’s intensity. 

as the song’s buzz dies out in the outro, a chant for more rumbles out of the crowd. you find dean, arms crossed as he watches from the side. a ghost of a smile is on his lips, and you take that inch for a mile. 

nodding to the band, they bring the tempo back up, “i think we can go for one more, right?” you tease, winking at the crowd as the whistles and cheering challenge the volume of the music. 

the bassist plucks into you’re so vain, the intro itself pulling more excitement from the audience. you smile down at them, swaying to the sounds as you dive back into song. the chorus becomes a shared chant, the entire room coming alive with the song. you belt out the song, moving along with the dramatics of the rhythm, playing into the crowd. 

your eyes keep finding dean’s, as he keeps his focus on you. his amusement is evident, but he isn’t watching with the same glimmer of starstruck as everyone else. in his mind you’re a high-spirited time bomb drenched in glitter that he’s been tasked to keep from getting herself into danger. but you can’t help but wonder just how much of your exuberance he actually enjoys. 

the song rolls to a finish, and you’re bowing to the crowd. high on the adrenaline, you’re giggling through your ‘thank you’s as you pass the mic back to the host and find your way back to dean. 

beaming up at him, you’re practically vibrating as he looks down at you with a smirk, “you looked good up there,” he clears his throat, “now let’s get your pretty ass home before i have to break some more wrists.” 

you roll your eyes, biting your lip to fight back a smile.

“alright, princess?” he quips, leaning closer with an eyebrow quirked. 

“alright, fine,” you groan, waving off his attitude, “take me home, cowboy.” you bring up a pointer finger, brows furrowing in mock seriousness, “but the night is young! you’re staying up to watch chick flicks with me and i don’t wanna hear shit about it.” 

i honestly just needed to get the ball rolling on this story, sooo kinda short read with this one but lmk what you think :,) 

tags from ppl who commented on the preview !! @titsout4nicholas @a1ecmcdowell @kpopslur @ultravi0lence14 @globetrotter28 @what-has-life-come-to

[kissitbttr]

I SEE YOU (FIRST TIME IS A CHARM)

a/n: a simple first date of frat!miguel and cheerleader!reader after the party

warnings; tiny angst but then turned to comfort<3

—

miguel sometimes think it would be good if he occasionally pinches himself in the arm. or glen could do it if he wanted to since he’s got quite a grip. enough to make sure he’s not living the dream.

for example, finally scoring a chance to take you out after months of pining on you? not getting rejected by his long time crush?! scratch pinching, somebody slap the dog shit out of him and tell him that this is real,

he had texted beck prior the date that he needed his right hand man to keep tabs on everything at the party. and being the good best friend that he is, beck congratulated him for finally having the balls to actually do it,

beck: so i guess that means we don’t have to hear about you moaning her name again during sleep?

miguel: shut the fuck up, kingsley. do as what you’re told.

beck: aye aye buddy

“so uh.. are you hungry? we could grab something to eat if you want to” he asked you while looking over to the passengers seat

“starving, actually” you replied with a giggle, and he felt his heart skip a beat at the sound. “got any recommendations, o’hara?”

but for a guy who knows his ways around women, he sure is nervous when it comes to you. and fuck, he cursed himself for being like this. he wanted to look cool in front of you, not stupid. what is wrong with him?!

“well we can have something off the diner on 13th street. that’s twenty minutes from campus, though. sushi stop, i know one where they serve the best sashimi. and kebab food truck but i don’t think you-“

“a kebab?!” a gasp fell from your mouth, eyes widening at the sound of middle eastern delicacy. “yes. no doubt. i want it. let’s punch it!”

he swore he’s not the type who falls in love quickly. but the way your eyes twinkle in excitement when he mentioned about kebabs,

he might just have,

he smiled at you before putting his focus back on the road. “kebab food truck it is”

one thing that miguel had forgotten to mention, is that food trucks don’t have tables and chairs. so people either eat them while standing up or inside their cars,

he didn’t want to trouble you at all, because looking at you right now, in a very pretty dress and heels, he doubt. that you actually wanted to eat while standing up,

“i’m so sorry, muñeca. i forgot to say something about this” he scratched the back of his head. eyes looking through the window where the kebab truck is at,

with a shrug you shot him a reassuring smile. “i don’t mind standing up while eating if that’s what you worried about”

he shook his head. “i mind actually. can’t let you eat and get tired while standing. how about we’ll eat in my car and i’ll go order something for you, si? what do you prefer? i swear if it you say vegan, i will leave you”

you laughed at that comment, “no of course not. i’ll get the chicken one, medium sized. and a cold water”

he pulled out his cash from the back pocket, smiling at you. “be right back”

there was definitely something different about him. a good different. one of them was how miguel is not how the people at campus had painted him to be. could be too soon for that conclusion but throughout the car ride, you were extremely sure that miguel is not a jackass.

instead, he had asked about which songs you wanted him to play in his car. whether or not if you’re comfortable and constantly saying sorry if he overstepped. it all seemed so sweet to you,

your friends would probably give you a weird look praising such simple things. the bare minimum. but these days, those ‘bare minimums’ are hard to pluck from a decent person, correct? nothing’s wrong with praising them anyway.

he knocked on the window, pulling you out of the train thoughts, in which you then rolled it down. “here you go, muñeca. the man assumed that it was for me so he put a lot of chicken there, so-“

“it’s fine. i said i was starving anyway” you took it from his hand, the smell of the delicious meal was making your mouth water.

miguel had himself crouched down to your eye level, thumb pointing over his shoulder. “so. standing up? or my car?”

you thought for a while, then an idea came into your mind with a pretty smile. “got a better one”

miguel frowned in confusion at that, watching you opening the door before walking out of the vehicle. and that’s when you and him standing almost chest to chest, unintentionally.

the moment he looked at you, his mind immediately went blank. in that exact moment, he thought that if it was possible to put charges on someone for how they stare with their eyes, yours would be number one.

because it felt like he was getting hypnotized by your beautiful irises and that there’s no turning back for him. he would volunteer to drown himself in them if it means he gets to see those eyes forever,

“—way nicer”

he blinked. mentally slapping himself in the forehead because he had just realized he wasn’t listening to you at all, too busy day dreaming about your gaze.

“i’m sorry, w-what were you saying?”

an amused smile made it towards your lips, “i said, we could sit by the pavement here. it’s way nicer. we could act like one of those drunk people after night out.”

“but we’re not drunk, muñeca”

“i said act, miguel” you reply in a duh tone, closing the door behind before guiding him to one of the empty ones where it’s not taken, “see? this one’s good spot”

one thing he noticed, you were wearing a pretty dress. “wait!” miguel then rushed towards the back of his car to grab a jacket before going back to you and laying it down on the asphalt. “there. now you can sit”

that one made your heart flutter, eyes moved up to him. “miguel you can’t just do that. your jacket will get dirty”

“I don’t mind. they made washing machine for a reason. i wasn’t going to let your dress get dirty anyway. the color is too pretty” he smiled, finally taking a seat on the rough surface with you following his actions after,

it was quite a cold night, and you regret not bringing a jacket along with you. what even was this weather? sometimes it’s hot, sometimes it’s rainy and sometimes you couldn’t even fucking predict it,

you tried not to let the chills get to you, because it seemed like miguel wasn’t really bothered by it. this man had his whole arms out in a muscle tank and he sat still like it was nothing,

“this is the best kebab i have ever tasted” you moaned with your eyes close on you had the first bite, chewing on the sweet delish,

miguel tried not to let his mind wander when he saw you doing that. “you like it?”

“like?! i love it! miguel this is amazing!” eyes turning into hearts when you gaze the food upon your hands, “how did you find this perfect place?”

“me and the guys often tried to find new places to eat other than burgers and hot dogs after parties and football practice” he settled his legs down, crossing them. “saw this truck while passing by and decided to give it a go”

you hummed. “do you do that a lot?”

“do what a lot?”

“partying” you took another bite, looking over at him as he raised his brows at the question,

“w-well” he chuckled nervously, thinking of a better way to answer. “if i’m being honest, i don’t enjoy it… as much as i did before”

“really?”

“yeah. it was fun at first. partying, getting shit faced… feels lame now. also, probably because now i think of alcohol are just empty calories”

“is that why you wanted to take me out? so you didn’t have a reason to stay there?”

his eyes turned wide, shaking his head in panic mode. “what? no! no of course not! i wanted to! i mean—it just felt like it was the perfect timing! and i— I—so—didn’t i tell you i have a crush on you?!”

with that, you laughed. placing a hand over his knee. “just joking, miguel”

oh fuck you’re touching him.

‘keep it cool, miguel’ he thought,

“oh-oh right, right. sorry” he replied, clearing his throat. still feeling nervous. “you know, i rarely see you at our weekly parties. only gloria and some of your friends.” he pointed out. wiping some of the sauce from the corner of his lips,

you answered. “not really my scene”

“you don’t like parties?”

“not really. i prefer when it’s just a few people that i know. not a whole campus. i like it better when it’s intimate”

“why is that?” he couldn’t help but ask,

“so i can hear people better when they talk. i love having a conversation”. it’s simple really. and it’s true.

you haven’t gone out to wild parties or clubs in a while, and it was safe to say that your life is truly at peace now. not saying that you would turn down any offer to go to one, but you just don’t do it as often,

waste of money and energy. simple things like sleeping before eleven, waking up early, getting your work done and having walks or working out regularly have been your main priorities now,

“ah, i see” he nodded at that, a smile appeared on his face. “intimate party yeah? i keep that in mind”

you raised one of your brows. “you don’t have to just because i said so, miguel”

he shrugged, taking another bite of his food “if that’s what i have to do just so i could see you around more often”

his response completely took you by surprise. and you had no clue what to say to that. fluttered? sure, that’s why you tried to suppress the smile on your face by looking away. you were quite thankful that it was dark out. that way, he wouldn’t be able to see the blush prominent on your cheeks.

the two of you sat there in comfortable silence for a while. devouring the perfect late night meal while watching the cars go by, accompanied by mindless chatters from left to right,

it did come to a surprise that you and miguel have a lot more in common than you think. something that you didn’t see coming. hell, you didn’t even think that you would actually converse with the head of a fraternity and captain of a football team.

a person whom you always try to avoid ever since freshmen year.

“another thing—why haven’t i seen you in lots of my games?”

“miguel, i come to your games. i’m the cheerleader for crying out loud”

“what i meant was why have you never stick around? you do your part and then poof! you’re gone”

raising an eyebrow, you eye him. “are you stalking me now?” he laughs at the accusation, but it’s not entirely false. “i have no reason to stay, why would i stick around?”

“not even for me?” he fakes a dramatic gasp, hand over his chest as if he’s actually hurt. “that pains me, muñeca”

“you’re getting way ahead of yourself, o’hara” you reply with an eye roll but smile anyway,

miguel then looks at the road, shaking his head. “unbelievable. and here i thought about handing you my jersey for you to wear next at our championship game”

and man, did your heart somehow stop for a second there.

because miguel o’hara do not give away his jersey numbers. not the real one nor the merch ones.

“you’re joking?”

“why would i be?” miguel turned his head at you, finding it is much better to look at you rather than the busy road ahead of him,

shrugging, you looked down at your open kebab. “people talk about how your jerseys are off limits. you don’t give away those numbers for anyone”

“well” he breathed out, chewing his lower lip while fiddling with his fingers. “you’re not just anyone to me”

a breath hitched on your throat when his ruby eyes met with your pretty ones once more. and he made a mental note on how your smile deflated in seconds after he said that,

and fuck fuck fuck, he didn’t mean to make you feel weird or uncomfortable. it was the last thing he wanted to do. because he did feel like he was confessing too much to you that night.

but what could he have done?! he likes you and you make him nervous. put the two and two together, and miguel would sputter bunch of shit from his mouth without actually thinking,

“shit” he shook his head, looking away from embarrassment. “i didn’t—I didn’t mean to say that— i mean, i did but—sorry if it made you feel weird. that was too straight forward”

you couldn’t lie, it was rather entertaining to see the captain of a football team and the so called ‘player of campus’ stumble upon his words like that. usually, you would simply roll your eyes and brushed every single guy who had said that to you. because you knew all they wanted to do was to get into your pants,

however miguel looked genuine. and by how fast his cheeks were warming to the color of crimson red or how he scratched the tip of his ears was pretty explanatory,

he wasn’t trying to get into your pants,

instead of giving him a dirty look, you just smiled shyly at him who looked down on his lap. probably re-thinking about his life choices.

“that’s cute” you managed to mumble, scooting a bit closer to his body. putting the half of kebab down beside you. “you actually like me, huh?”

he scoffed at the silly thought, as if the answer to that question had already been written well enough. “i really like you” he confessed, craning his head towards you and he almost passed out on how close you were to him. “makes me go crazy every time i see you, muñeca—i counted the times that you looked at me for just one split second and i died on days that you didn’t”

the way he spoke so carefully and lovingly with you was truly something you had longed from someone. took you by surprise just how much it meant to him for something so simple like wanting you to look at him for once,

one that you didn’t expect miguel o’hara would have said,

“yeah?” and this time, your voice wavered a little. almost like he made his mission accomplished by making you nervous too. “have you been gawking at me then?”

“god you made it sound like i’m a creep” he shook his head out of embarrassment making you laugh. “not gawk—just simply admiring you from afar—during class and your cheerleading practice. but it’s not a weird ass admiring or something like that. hope that’s okay”

it was. indeed it was.

because before this happened, you always assumed that miguel was the typical jock that romcoms have always shown. heartless, player, annoying, screw ups, and the list goes on.

but fuck was he different.

“more than okay” you responded rather quietly, letting your shoulder touched with his and it made miguel’s eyebrows quirk upwards,

and the moment miguel let his eyes looked into yours for more than twenty seconds, he knew for the second time that night—he was in. hooked line and sinker.

you pulled him in deeper than anyone had ever did without you even realizing. he hadn’t even shared a three hour conversation with you. this is the longest he had spoken with the girl he had a crush on,

miguel gulped by the sight of your pretty lips and doe eyes looking up at him. the innocence twinkled within your gaze and he had to refrain himself from kissing you out in the street,

it was one of the hardest thing he had to do that night,

“i just wanted you to give me a chance” he admitted, resting his arms on his knees as he stared at you. “to look at me as me—not as someone who people had spread rumors about on campus—because i’m not that— i don’t sleep around, i promise I don’t”

it was a weird feeling on how your heart broke a little by how defeated he sounded at the moment. his eyes were soften, voice turned small. he was begging silently for you to look past the ‘playboy miguel’ talk from the people that barely even knows him,

he didn’t care if others don’t believe him but he cared if you did.

that’s the only approval he needed,

“i want you to see me” he shyly continued when you chose not to say anything, only looking at him with your widening eyes. “that’s all”

trust has always been something you struggle with from time to time. because it’s easier said than done.

relationships are indeed not your strongest virtue. you shared some in the past but not all of it were pretty except for one. and you haven’t even heard about that person in a long time but you did wish he was okay.

it is unbelievably difficult to put your heart upon someone else’s hands and asking them to take care of it knowing how easy it would be for them to break it along the way,

which was the reason why you avoided miguel in the first place,

to say you hate him with all of your guts and soul would probably be too much. you wouldn’t go that far. you hardly know the man.

but you were persuaded by the gossips and girl talk scattered throughout campus. how he used girls for sex, only to dump them the next day. despite gloria telling you the opposite, you refused to believe her. you were solemnly only trying to protect yourself.

yet only now the guilt was eating you alive. why didn’t you even try to find out for yourself instead of listening to a gang of plastics who love to start off disgusting rumors about others?

looking at him now just made your heart clenched and for your head tilt to the side, just so you can look at him a bit better. you wanted to look at his eyes. you wanted him to not avoid your gaze because you understood now,

more clearer than ever.

“i do. i see you, miguel” you placed a hand on top of his, gently rubbing the skin until his ruby eyes turned to you at the sudden affection,

miguel’s heart almost did a somersault at your smile. even more to the words you had chosen to say next,

“i see you, baby”

—

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! it would make my day:)

[elsm44]

friends? what friends?

club!ellie x fem!reader (dni -18)

you and ellie meet at a club after your friends ditch, only she has a few things in mind that might make your night a little better… 🌚

warnings: nsfw, cunnilingus, some dirty talk, a little boob stuff, lots of pet names, lowkey in public…, that’s it i think (also not proofread)

the blue club lights gave a rough shadow and outline to every body in the place. loud rap music bounced off the walls, enough to give you a headache if you focused on the noise long enough. pushing through the crowd, you were calling your friends’ names, who were no where to be found.

“callie? mason? liv?” it was no use over the music, but you tried again anyway. “callie?” you yelled louder. “mason? liv?”

people just whipped their heads around and stared at you like it was your fault you ended up in this mess. you told your friends you had to use the bathroom and they swore they’d stay in one spot while you were gone. when you got back? they were gone. again. not the first time this happened, and definitely not the last. you really need to get better friends, you thought.

you decided it was time to get some high ground so you worked your way up to the second floor of the club and scanned your eyes across the room. no sign of them, and not a single idea where they could’ve ended up. usually there was a clue, but this time there wasn’t.

“all alone princess?” a low voice questioned from behind you.

princess?

“excuse me?” you turned yourself around and made eye contact with likely one of the most attractive women you’d ever seen. the dim lighting carved out her toned muscles and made her stare even that more piercing, making your knees a little weak. you pretend you haven’t noticed that feeling as you wait for her response.

“did someone leave you alone? ‘ya look like you’re lookin’ for someone. hm?” the woman leaned against the railing on her back with her elbows holding her up, beer in hand. you examined her face more: the gorgeous freckles sprawled out across her face, her button nose, her full (and kissable) lips, and her hair, tied back half-up-half-down. her outfit was less than underwhelming, but she found a way to make it sexy as all hell: a black hoodie, some black cargo pants, and shoes you couldn’t quite make out under the dark lighting. you did notice the rings on her fingers though, which made your knees even weaker.

“you checkin’ me out?”

you hadn’t realized you were in such a daze. “hm?” you snap out of it, and realize you were shamelessly looking at her hands.

“where are your people, baby?”

you shake your head in anger, honestly livid enough to start crying. “i have no fucking clue. but at this point i don’t care. fuck ‘em.” you roll your eyes and run a hand through your hair.

“just like that, huh? what’s your name mama?” the woman looks you over, examining your tight black tube dress and your silver heels. your silver jewelry accented you beautifully in the blue light, and everything added together was enough to make her swoon. not to mention your scent.

you sighed. “y/n. you?”

she smiles. “that’s a real pretty name, but i’m still gonna call you mama, yeah? i’m ellie.” you try to hide your smile at her shameless flirting.

“promise you won’t ditch me like my asshole friends?”

ellie leans down and in so close to your ear, her lips could brush against you. “i would never mama. now let’s get you a beer, hm? or are you classier than that?” she leans back and smirks.

you two make your way through the crowd to the bar and order two new beers, one for each of you, since she finished hers on your way back downstairs. you sat down on the barstools and began to tell little things about yourselves.

she learned you were a sophomore in college, hoping to make it to the big leagues as a film director. you have a cat named simon, you love lily flowers, and you especially love women.

you learned she’s also a sophomore, a full-time astrophysics student (hello? fuck me already). her dad died about two years back, she’s a stoner, and also, evidentially, loves women.

ellie leaned down to your ear again, this time almost kissing it as she spoke, “why don’t we go downstairs to the lounge? there’s bound to be less people there, yeah?” she leans back and raises an eyebrow, you can only nod because of the rush washing over you.

down at the lounge, surprisingly, there was only two other people there, and they were on the other side of the room. you could only imagine what activities they were up to over there. ellie grabs your hand, “c’mon mama.”

she sits you two down on a round booth and sets your beers down for you two, which she willingly carried downstairs herself. you two sit next to each other, and for just a moment stare into each others’ eyes drunkenly.

“i’m so glad my friends ditched me, ellie.”

“yeah? why’s that, hm?” she smiled and began to rub your thigh, draped over her lap, with her warm hand. the frigidness of her rings made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“‘cause i wouldn’t be able to do this.” you climbed on top of her lap and almost immediately her hands grasped your waist, like it was where they were meant to be all along.

she smirked at this little game you started. “and i wouldn’t be able to do this.” she whispers before latching her lips to your neck. you gasp and flip your hair over to one side so that the area is free for her to work with. you let little breathy moans out and they lead straight to her eardrums, which make her suck on your skin harder.

“i know, y/n. let it out quietly.”

her words of comfort made you weaker on top of her. her hands around your waist went from just touching you because she wanted to to having to hold you steady. she pulled away and finally latched her lips to yours.

she tasted like vanilla chapstick, and her lips were soft and warm. you had missed making out with someone, but this time it was different. it felt right.

both of your breathing both picked up as the making out became sloppier and sloppier, her hands exploring your body. her crotch pushed up against your pussy, which was now only covered by your thin layer of panties under your dress. you pulled back to look around for a second.

“we should go to a bathroom.”

“nah, let’s stay right here mama. is everyone else gone?”

you looked down at her, out of breath, and hummed yes in response. she admired the bruising beginning to form on your neck before answering back to you.

“okay, we can stay here then. yeah?”

“yeah.” your answer was breathy, and you noticed the way you squirmed under her hands, which were pushing you down on to her pants even more. “ellie…”

she immediately kissed your lips again but quickly trailed kisses down your neck and to your chest. she pulled your tube dress down a little to expose your breasts and sucked on your nipples.

she swirled her tongue around each one, taking her time. she pinched the other while very gently nibbling on you, making you moan softly into her ear. her other hand trailed down to in between your legs and up your dress, rubbing your pussy slowly.

“mm..” was all you could get out as she slowly drew circles around your clothed clit.

“i wanna hear you say my name baby.” you could again, only moan in response.

she finally pulls back and says, “here, mama. climb off for a sec.” you climb off of her in confusion, thinking you did something wrong. slowly, ellie crawled and made her way under the table. “c’mere baby.” she waved her fingers for you to move up.

she pulled your legs apart and slowly moved your panties to the side. she quietly moaned at the sight of your bare pussy right in front of her face. it was perfect, every inch of it, and she couldn’t be more excited to make it pulse on her tongue.

without warning, she dove in. she swirled her tongue and sucked on your sensitive bud, causing you to have to hold a hand over your mouth, knowing someone could walk in at any second. you used your other hand to pull your dress up just in case, and then let it find its way down to ellie’s hair.

ellie sucked and licked and flicked her tongue on you like you were her final meal. “i know baby, you like that, hm?” she would say as her tongue slipped in and out of your hole. using the other hand that wasn’t holding your panties to the side, she inserted a finger and began to pump in and out of your pussy.

“oh, god. ellie!” you threw your head back and ground your pussy against her tongue as she sucked harder and harder. once she threw in her second finger, it was over for you. you began to hyperventilate over all of the sensations at once and moaned under the loud music. “please!”

finally, into her mouth, your juices spilled. your body shook as she had to use both hands to hold your legs down. you were a squirming and whining mess over her. she licked your pussy clean, put your panties back into place, and climbed back up next to you, wiping her mouth with the inside of her hoodie sleeve.

“still thinking about your friends?” you giggled at her cheeky question, and kissed her one more time.

“friends? what friends?” there’s only ellie now.

-

a/n

ermmm this is my first time writing like this on tumblr… i hope it isn’t too bad! i’m definitely gonna write more than just smut though

[eph3merall]

if matt wanted to fuck other bitches, you were allowed to as well right? he went to that party you told him not to go to, because there were definitely going to be pretty chicks there. he went anyways, probably smoked some joints, downed some drinks, then went down on some girls.

the only way you knew was because of a friend, who saw him drag some pretty blonde into a private room while making out all sloppy. said friend ended up almost punching matt in the face as well after he stalked up to her and tried hitting on her.

so it's why you're angling your phone up high without the flash, head resting on your new boyfriend's bare chest. sweaty and hot, you snap a quick picture of your lips curled up into a smile and white hot cum across your bare tits, a heart drawn with the sticky release in between the valley of your breasts.

the selfie ends up being blurry and grainy in the dark lighting, you don't hesitate to send the photo to matt. adding it to the highlights with your boyfriend might be a bad idea however, as it is public. maybe matt's seen the pictures. you really hope he has, most of them being cute and lovey that you know will have him annoyed.

the next morning you wake up to a shit ton of notifications. from no other than matt. things along the line of 'who the hell is he?' 'bro wtf answer me' 'bitch'

it's funny too, matt having ghosted you for about three months. you even tried texting, maybe purposefully trying to spark up an argument for the fun of it. one selfie with another guy though has him spamming your dms, missed calls piling up in your inbox as well.

he even has the audacity to ask who that 'pussy ass' is in your posts. soon enough matt is sending you voice messages, pissed off and demanding to know what the guy's name is. what he does. where you guys even met.

as much as you truly love your new boyfriend—he doesn't make you feel like matt did. even if he was a toxic asshole, made you cry and he was a pissy bitch in your relationship.. the sweet moments were heartwarming. and the dick was phenomenal.

his most recent voice message said something along the lines of, "i'm coming over, bet he doesn't even fuck you right."

well.

i posted something eergh..

i am a SUCKER for toxic!matt n chris. maybe ill write a second part for my toxic!chris drabble that wasn't the smut one. wrote this while watching gilmore girls so uhh idk if there are any mistakes bc it isnt proofread :/

—

©eph3merall 2024

[cookiescribble]

Flufftober Day 1: Lost Pet Meet Cute

Ship: Steve Harrington x GN!Reader

Summary: Your cat really likes Steve…almost as much as you do

A/N: Flufftober has started!! Happy Spooky Season, everyone! Enjoy! - Mod Ghost

Click

Click

The only sound that usually happens this early in the morning deep in the outskirts of Hawkins were the occasional rustling of the trees swaying in the leaves. Today was an exception, though, because you were putting up a poster for your lost cat with a staple gun. You hadn’t seen him for a few days, and with all the weird stuff that’s been happening around your neighborhood, you weren’t taking any chances. He was usually back within a day or two anyway, so this was especially strange.

This particular poster was getting pinned down to the big tree that stood at the intersection closer to your house, Kerley and Cornwallis. You’d heard the Byers kid, who you think is named Will, and his friends call it ‘Mirkwood’ a couple times as they passed by your house but you weren’t sure why or what it meant.

You stopped thinking about that now, though, taking a final glance at your poster before you were about to turn back to your bike. You had a car but you were sure you could catch your cat easier if you had your bike. He was a sneaky guy, your cat, and you weren’t fast enough on your own to keep up with him if he made his way into the trees.

“Hey, that looks like the cat that’s been showing up in my yard.” Spoke a familiar voice from just behind you, causing you to whip around.

There stood Steve Harrington, the guy you definitely didn’t have a crush on, who also happened to be one of the few people who lived this close to the lab.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to sneak up on people?!” You scold without any real malice, smacking his arm lightly.

“Ow, okay,” he held up his hands in defense, grinning, “Sorry, but I think your cat is at my house. I’d seen him in my backyard a bunch and I didn’t think he had a home so I was making sure he was safe.”

He seemed so sheepish and earnest that you almost felt bad reacting that way.

“Oh…is he there right now?”

“Yeah, I can take you there so you can get him if you want. You might wanna take your poster down first, though.” he gestured to the tree that had your poster that said ‘lost cat, please help’ with all the information on the bottom.

“Right…” you nodded, chuckling as you pulled the poster down, “There’s one thing that’s bothering me about this, though.” you speak up again as Steve leads you back to his car.

“Lay it on me” he opened the driver’s door, leaning on the roof of the car as he watched you walk around to the passenger side. It felt like his gaze lingered a bit lower than it should.

“I have no idea if you actually have my cat”

“…what? I told you I did” You watched Steve’s face scrunch up in confusion as he said this.

“Yeah, but you could be just saying that to kidnap me.” You retorted with a smirk, crossing your arms as you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Why would I want to kidnap you—No! Okay. Fine. If it makes you feel better, I can bring him here so you can just take him—“

“I’m fucking with you, Steve, I’m getting in.” You popped open the car door but realized that he was still standing there, looking more dumbfounded than confused.

“What?” You ask as you stop, staring at him over the roof of the car.

“I just…I realized that I’ve had a crush on you for this long without knowing your name” Steve mumbled, seemingly not thinking about what he was actually saying.

You felt your heart doing crazy skateboard tricks in your chest as he said that, shaking your head as you tried to get your thoughts together.

“Hold on…say that again?”

“…I don’t know your name?”

“No, the other part”

“…I…have a crush on you?”

“Do you actually?”

“Yeah?”

You both stood there for a moment, wondering what to actually do next. It was you that made the first move, though.

You walked back toward him, standing next to him behind the open car door.

“Steve…”

“Yeah…?”

You paused to kiss his cheek.

“Sometimes, you’re lucky you’re pretty.” You pat the same cheek you kissed before you get in the car.

[sopiloveshobi]

Kim Fucking Namjoon

Please proceed with caution. This is a 18+ nsfw piece. I won’t spoil anything here. Had this in my head since I saw those pics from Hoseoks party. Haven’t spelled checked and haven’t written like this in ages so I hope it makes sense and is good enough!

‘You are out of your mind! You know exactly who will be at that party. I am not going!’ You answered your best friend sitting on your bed whilst she was going through your wardrobe.

‘Please please I am begging you! You know Hoseok invited me? He called me and made sure I will be there! What if tonight is the night?!’ Yu-jin pouted at you, with a begging hands.

‘What do you even mean THE night?’ You rolled your eyes at her and threw yourself back at the bed.

‘What if he kisses me tonight? What if he finally makes a move and I won’t be there because you won’t go!’ Her voice was really desperate and she was trying to hide all of the excitement she was holding inside.

‘You can still go! Just without me. I wasn’t invited, I was supposed to be your plus one anyway’ you answered sighing loudly. You wanted to go, but you also knew who you could bump into at this party. The guy who you worked with few times and who also happens to be a best friend of your best friends crush. Its not that you hated the man. But you definitely weren’t fond of him and wanted to avoid him. The man was trouble. Every time you had to work together he would come up with excuses or would refuse to cooperate. He was always late and he just simply annoyed the fuck out of you. Luckily the feeling was mutual. Because Hoseok told Yu-jin that he wasn’t keen on you either.

Kim Namjoon. Tall, incredibly wide shoulders and dark hair. Smoky, sleepy dark eyes and the perfect jaw line. Perfect looks, yet so fucking annoying.

‘Please, please. I promise I will keep you away from him and I won’t leave you on your own for too long’ she was about to say she won’t leave you at all but you both knew that won’t be the case. Because the second Hoseok will wave at her she will drop you and run to that man. And you couldn’t blame her. He was really good looking, he was successful and he did treat her really well. There was never a game that he would play with her. His intentions were pretty clear to everyone.

You rolled your eyes and sat back up on the bed.

‘Fine…’ you decided. Why would you avoid a great party, a little boogie and a drink because this jerk might be there? And even if he will, its not like he will come to harass you. It will be fine. If you will have to converse you will be civil. You bet he will be late anyway, like he always was.

‘I love love looooooove you’ Yu-jin jumped on you and tackled you down onto the bed ‘You are the best’ she giggled right into your face. You and Yu-jin have been friends for years, pretty much since school. You never left each others sides, even with careers going on and moving out of your family houses you were always there for each other. Even when her dad passed, you took care of their family and helped cook for them for few months. You were inseparable so it was natural for Yu-jin wanting to be on a very important party of her probably future boyfriend. Maybe even husband.

‘Pick my outfit though’ you moaned and pushed her off yourself. She sprang up to your wardrobe and she already had eyed out black dress with long sleeves and pair of sneakers paired with it. It was the cool kind of outfit you could never pick yourself but she was a master in this. She was the cool stylish one who would buy and gift you tons of stuff that she knew you could pull off but were too scared to experiment yourself.

You both arrived in front of the building and got out of the car. You have straightened your dress and fixed your hair. Both you check your make up and were ready to go in.

You have showed your invitation at the door and went on the top floor of the building in the lift. You were nervous. Yu-jin was excited. As always the absolute opposites. You took a deep breath as the lift reached the top floor, the door dinged and you could heard loud music already blasting. Yu-jin left first and you followed her, another person asked for the invitations which you both showed and received a bracelet to be let in. It was long until you heard the man squeak and run towards the two of you. His hair done wet like style, denim outfit, chunky chose and shades. He did look like a king of this party.

‘Its so good to see you both! So glad you made it! Yu-jin, you look so good baby’ he commented on her. He always showered her in compliments and it was great to see her being treasured. ‘You both do. Thank you so much for coming. Cocktails are on this side, snacks on the other. Yu-jin I will grab you in a bit okay? I need to welcome all the guests. Get yourself a drink and I will be right with you okay?’ He was so reassuring, made sure she felt special and taken care if. She nodded and smiled widely at him. He always took her words away, she was so stunned around him, so shy. Not the Yu-jin you know. You both swiftly moved away to the cocktail bar. You scanned the room to see if there was anyone who you known and there few people that you knew of. No sight of him. Thank fuck. You ordered your cocktail, you were just chatting to the bartender and then Yu-jin patted your shoulder.

‘Im so sorry..’ she whispered and you knew what was coming. But just as you promised yourself at home, you wouldn’t let this spoil your night. You were here for Hoseok and your friend and a little bit of good time. You turned around and then he was, at the entrance that you and Yu-jin just were few minutes ago. Top to bottom dark jeans, oversized t-shirt, long hair dark hair. Slightly overgrown. He was talking to Hoseok and scanned the room himself. And then it was. He stopped at you. Your eyes locked for just a second. Fuck. You were hoping to go by unnoticed.

There she is. He thought already annoyed at your sight. Fuck, she will be as annoying as always he thought to himself.

He moved away from Hoseok and moved towards a group of men standing on the side. He didn’t break the eye contact though. He was still staring at you. And you couldn’t let him win. He made you so competitive. Fuck he is so annoying even from so far away. You rolled your eyes and turned around back to the bar. You took a big sip of your cocktail.

‘Its fine Yu-jin, we both knew this is going to happen’ you said to your friend and continued on sipping on your drink. You definitely needed liquid courage to be able to walk about and dance on this party, in the outfit you were in, in front of a guy you really disliked. You moved along with the drink and your friend and she spotted few people she knew and wanted to say hello to. And all you could feel was his eyes on you. Even when you weren’t facing him, you could just feel him staring. It was uncomfortable but at the same time it has given you this weird confidence.

Eventually Hoseok came and grabbed Yu-jin as he promised and he basically didn’t leave her side the entire night. They would go up together to different people and he would introduce her. They did disappear at some point completely, you lost them and you panicked a little. She promised not to leave you for good and as you were turning around to look for her, you were stopped by him. Kim Namjoon. Fuck. He appeared right in front of you. Out of no where.

‘Nice to see you’ he hissed through his clenched jaw. You could hear his teeth grind. Why is he here and talking to you. You weren’t buying his bullshit.

‘Im afraid im not able to say the same’ you looked down on him. You took another sip of your drink for extra courage. No way he is going to spoil your night.

‘As polite as always I see’ he hissed back and moved away. He went around you and ordered a drink from the bartender. Of course, he couldn’t avoid you because you were stuck like a leech to the bar. You grabbed your drink and moved away. It didn’t take long and someone approached you. Also quite tall. Piercing in his lip, tattoos on his arm. Dark clothes, thick chain around his neck, drink in his hand.

‘I was told to take care of you’ he whispered to your ear. You froze. What the hell?

‘Who are you and who told you that?’ You were surprised, it wasn’t him so you weren’t completely closed off to talk to anyone else. Anyone but him.

‘Yu-jin told me to hang around for a bit. Her and Hoseok went.. to his studio. I think he will finally make things official’ you were stunned. Who is this guy. He was nice and sweet and he knew details about your friend. Wait Yu-jin told him what? ‘Jungkook’ he added at the end. Jungkook. Jungkook. You tried to remember if she ever mentioned anyone with that name. He put his hand on your waist. You froze again. ‘i was supposed to keep Namjoon away’ he added. Yu-jin im going to kill you, you thought to yourself but you were happy to take any hell at this stage. You turned around to him, keeping his hand on your waist and smiled politely.

‘I see. I also see you have been let in on all my secrets’ you chuckled and continued on your cocktail.

At that very second, when you were chuckling whilst Jungkook hand was resting on your waist Kim Namjoon has turned around from the bar to look around. Scanned the room and saw exactly that picture. He clenched his jaw and squeezed his drink a little bit too hard, he broke the glass and spilled the whiskey that was in it. It didn’t look like he hurt himself. He apologised to the bartender and ordered another drink. You noticed in the corner of your eye that he was still stating. It didn’t take long for him to approach. Of course, he couldn’t stay the fuck away could he?

‘Jungkookie, i didnt know you had a date’ he chuckled at the sight of the two of you.

‘I don’t have to tell you everything do I?’ He answered and grabbed you a little closer. You were staring at Namjoon, and he was staring staring at you. The surroundings became unbearable and steamy.

‘I didn’t know you knew each other’ you gasped and wrapped yourself around Jungkook. He wasn’t expecting that so he smirked a little when he felt your body getting closer to his. Namjoons jaw clenched again.

‘For years now’ he answered and scanned you and Jungkook up and down. He knew. He smelled it. He found out this was only a play. If Jungkook didnt smirk with a triumph like that maybe he would have been fooled. ‘Enjoy you two’ he raised his glass slightly and moved away. You could have breathing again, so you exhaled loudly.

‘What the fuck is wrong with the two of you? You really do hate each other’ Jungkook commented, partially amused at the situation and sipped on his drink. The music stopped and Hoseok appeared around the main area of the party. All lights on him.

‘Thank you for coming everyone. We will play few songs from the new album now. I hope you enjoy’ he bowed down and he went away. The music started, the lights went off again. And you felt really warm. Incredibly warm. You needed a breath of fresh air or water at your neck. You looked around and spotted a corridor leading to the bathrooms. You started walking towards it. As you started moving, you felt a pair of eyes on you. And after that movement in the corner of your eye. You rushed towards the bathrooms, closed the first door behind you and you could hear the steps behind you. You entered the bathroom and instantly opened the tap to spray some water on yourself. The door opened right behind you. And there he was. Kim fucking Namjoon.

‘What the fuck is your problem?!’ He hissed at you, half shouting and walking towards you.

‘What the fuck is YOUR problem?! This is ladys room by the way’ you answered with the same anger as he brought in.

‘Why the fuck would you act like this?’ He kept walking and nearly shouting at you. The temperature raising in the room. The tension growing like crazy because this fucking idiot was right there shouting at you. You hated his guts but at this right moment, he was insanely hot. The angrier he was getting the more you felt yourself getting wet. What the fuck. Its the most annoying guy you know, why would he make you feel like this?! ‘Why would wear something like this?’ He hissed again when he didn’t get an answer ‘and the Jungkook theatre?! Are you out of your mind?’ He continued and pointed outside when he mentioned Jungkook. What the hell was I wearing? How dares he even mention something like this.

‘Why are you even here? Why do you care?!’ You answered completely confused and out of breath as you were still really warm and dizzy.

But it was about to continue because he was now right in front of you. Nearly leaning over your, staring directly into your eyes. You were furious and so was he. And something in that tension broke because he smashed his lips on yours and sat you up on the sink.

‘What the fuck?!’ You hissed and you pushed him away. He was so annoying. So annoyingly hot. So annoying. No no. You cant be this weak. And then he came back, smashed his lips against yours and you didn’t refuse this time. Fast breathing, his hands on your legs going up. His tongue down your throat, your hand on his neck and the other in his long hair. Steamy. Steamy was the feeling, the room, the way he kissed. He picked you up holding your ass and he walked with you to a cubicle and he shut the door behind him. He sat on the closed toilet and he sat you on top of him facing him. You bit his lip and moved to his neck, slowly licking and kissing up towards the back of his ear and he whined. This single act made him whine out loud. His hands explored your ass and when he got bored he moved under your dress and moved your underwear to the side. His tongue again back deep down you throat, and the second he touched you, you whimpered into his mouth. He really wanted to play the long game but the anticipation and tension between the two of you for weeks has made it impossible. He slid his two fingers inside you and as he did so, you moaned into his mouth and he stopped kissing you.

‘You slut’ he hissed and you completely ignored what he just said to you. You slid his trousers slightly, just enough to gain access and pulled his rock hard dick that was ready for you there and there. He didn’t expect it, he opened his mouth and stared at you for a second as you started going with your hand up and down the length of it. He moved his fingers again and felt how wet you turned. You threw your head back when he started moving again. Fuck. Fuck you. You gained a little bit of clarity in your head.

‘I hate you’ you said irritated straight into his face.

‘I know’ he responded and he took his fingers out of you. He moved your hand away from his cock and lifted you slightly, his trousers fell lower down to his knees and he placed you on top of him. You poked your hand under yourself to aim him right and he just let go of you and you fell right onto him, his dick sliding into you at a fast paste and your body jerked trying to adjust to him. He gasped quietly and looked deep into your eyes. You locked your eyes with his as he slowly started moving inside you. The more pace he picked up, the more you couldn’t hold your facial expression. You leaned into him, attacking his lips and moaning in between his movements. He finally came to his senses and places one hand on your hip and the other on your ass and as he started ramming into you, you bouncing on top of him he kept kissing you back, he kept kissing you chin and your cheek, whatever was closer at the moment. His grip tightened on you and he picked up the pace even more, the both of your breath loud and shallow. He squeezed your ass and he felt you squeeze around him inside you, you closed your eyes and whispered ‘so close’ as he picked up the pace to an insane speed and you were on the edge for a minute and then he switched one of his hands and squeezed your breast. That did it, you jerked your head to the back and closed your eyes moaning insanely loud and him kissing your neck helping you ride your high. And when you did and did see the stars, you looked down on him but the pace didn’t stop. You felt him slowly twitching and then you remembered, there wasn’t a condom break. There was nothing. You stopped him and got yourself off him, your juices slowly going town your leg. He looked at you with the biggest disgust at the same time with insane admiration. And then he pulled your hair and brought you all the way down to your knees and he opened your mouth with his finger and stuck himself in your mouth. No warning, no word. He was so close he needed to finish, and you were so hot, so slutty for him. He started fucking your throat and you let him, you put your tongue on top of him and sucked him off. It didn’t take long for him to come. You heard him grunt and moan and he finally came all the way down your throat. You swallowed everything you received. Your cheeks red, pink nose, hair messed up. You looked fucked. You were fucked. And you remained on your knees as he pulled himself together and then he helped you up, he tried putting your hair back to its best but that was a fail. And when you were about to unlock the door of the cubicle without a word he put a hand on yours and stopped you. He leaned you on the door and kissed you. But not harsh and aggressively like he did before. He kissed you like he really meant it, with care and he cupped your face and stroked it. He looked into your eyes, moved you to the side and left. He left you there. Without a word. Kim fucking Namjoon. What the fuck was that? You thought to yourself when you came to your senses and walked out. Checked yourself in the mirror and you did look fucked. You tried putting yourself together with the bits you had in your bag, but who were you fooling.

As Namjoon left the bathroom fixing himself and trying to look put together, Jungkook spotted him and approached him

‘Where have you been?’ He asked staring him down.

‘Just needed to fix some things’ he answered cryptically and moved on. Went towards the bar and ordered another drink.

Not long after you came out of the bathroom and Jungkook clocked what needed fixing. Based on the state of you he put 2 and 2 together and couldn’t stop giggling.

Yu-jin couldn’t find you. She really needed to tell you the good news and you were no where to be found. And then finally she found Jungkook giggling to himself.

‘Where is she?’ She asked.

‘Oh, uhm, just there’ he pointed at you leaving the bathroom trying to brush your dress down. He giggled again. ‘What the fuck happened to her?’ Yu-jin asked.

‘Namjoon’ Jungkook responded and moved away to find Hoseok.

‘We have a lot to talk about’ she said the second she approached.

‘I have no idea what youre talking about’ you were playing along, not about to tell your best friend you just fucked with the very man you were trying to avoid.

‘Me and Hoseok! Official!’ She jumped in place and you felt relieved because it was long time coming and also gave you the time to hopefully have her forget what she just saw.

‘Im so happy for you!’ You answered and hugged her. ‘Celebratory drink?’ You asked. You desperately needed to drink.

‘Lets get itttt’ Yu-jin was in the best of moods and decided not to ask about anything for now. For now.

The party went along, most of the guests disappeared and because Yi-jin wanted to close with Hoseok, you were tagging along.

‘We will just check if we took everything from the studio and will be right here okay?’ Your best friend announced and you nodded.

‘I will wait downstairs’ you added and went into the lift.

Of course. Your luck. Who was in the vert same lift?! Kim fucking Namjoon. The door closed, nobody else inside and he just approached you. Pushed you to the wall and kissed like there was no tomorrow.

‘Jagiya…’ he whined into your mouth. You were in shock. I mean the kissing was great but the name calling?

‘Namjoon are you drunk?’ You asked and he moved him slightly to the side, breaking the kiss.

‘No, i am really not. I just cant stop thinking about you’ he admitted, scratching the back of his head.

You didn’t know what to think about it. He was annoying and always late. But the chemistry the two of you had wasn’t normal. And you couldn’t just skip it, forget it, move on from it.

‘Fine, lets go home’ you said and you put your hand out so he would hold it, but he didn’t.

‘Let me ask you out properly first. Hoseok will rip me open if he will find out… i will call you tomorrow?’ He asked. He turned… sweet? Kim fucking Namjoon, annoying and always late. The man who infuriated you for the past few months and also the very same man who grunted few hours ago as you sucked him off, was now sweet and charming and… you loved it? What the fuck was wrong with you.

‘If you won’t, the ship will sail. There is only one chance with me’ you teased him and you left the lift and he followed. And you have met Hoseok and Yu-Jin staring at the two of you holding hands, with their mouths wide open. No fucking way.

[sadistic-kiss]

Use Me (Kinktober Fic)

Succubus Reader x Various JJK Men

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.Chapter Two.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

You crawled behind Choso, traversing over carpet and tile floor. Luckily he naturally walked slowly, some of the others walked quicker on purpose.

Now that you were inside the house you could hear the music much clearer. They were playing Halloween music and even had decorations up to match. Were they about to throw a party? When you entered the kitchen and saw the three giant kegs you knew that's what was about to happen.

That can't be good. You hope they don't kick you out, you were starving.

"Lay down." Choso commanded.

You looked over to see he was pointing at a giant pink fluffy bed sitting on the side of the kitchen. That was new.

"When-"

"Ah ah- I didn't say speak I said lay down." He pointed again with a bit more force.

You crawled into the bed and got comfortable, lying down as you looked up at Choso.

He cracked the smallest grin, "Good girl." He praised petting your head as you purred excitedly. He then stood up and went to the fridge, "Sukuna got it for you. Thought you might like it." He chuckled while searching for something to eat.

Even though he was talking to you, you couldn't talk back, not unless they told you to speak or asked you a question.

Honestly, it wasn't always like this. When you first met them they had released you from your slumber so you could help them find a curse. Between helping them or sleeping for eternity you chose your best option. They had aided you and you helped them. Killing whatever curse spirit they needed.

Everything was perfect.

It wasn't until you accidentally killed their best friend, then they started treating you differently. You told the man that he wouldn't survive and he wanted to sleep with you anyway! Who were you to turn down a meal!?

Food was food.

Apparently, you chose wrong and you shouldn't have done it. Human morals were so weird but you were learning bit by bit. They didn't like it when you hurt their people...only other people...bad people...the people they tell you to hurt....It was a work in progress.

Your body burned, bringing you back to why you were here in the first place. You released a light whimper staring at Choso as he scratched his abs under his long-sleeved grey shirt. Your mouth watered wanting to lick upon his stomach among other things.

"Quiet pet." He spoke without looking your way. He finally found something, pulling out a few things.

You pout, observing him as he moves around the kitchen cooking. About five minutes in you heard someone coming. You sat up excitedly hoping whoever it was would bless you.

Gojo came rushing in dressed like a Roman king with a leaf-like crown. He was talking on the phone.

"We are gonna need to get a new battery for the hockey table-oh what the fuck!" Gojo shouted.

"What?" Getou's voice boomed loudly on the phone.

"What the hell is she doing here!?" Gojo hollered while looking at Choso for an explanation.

"Why are you acting like I summoned her or some shit." Choso questioned with a twitch of his brow.

"Awww is it our kitten?" Getou cooed.

"No aww! She's going to kill everyone!"

"Did you want me to leave her outside?" Choso questioned.

Gojo glared at you as you gave him your puppy eyes and a little poke of your lip.

'Please don't kick me out please don't kick me out.'

"I swear to Tengen if one person dies tonight you will never come back, got it?"

You nodded quickly as Gojo sighed looking at Choso. "Where is Aiko?"

"She sent them away."

"What why?"

"She said they would have died if they touched her because of how minuscule their curse energy was."

Gojo smacked his forehead with a little growl, "Fuck I forgot about that."

"Forgot about what?" Sukuna popped in catching the end of the conversation. He was dressed up as a Viking, suns out guns out. Two knives clipped to his hips. Knowing him they were most definitely real. You wouldn't be surprised if the fur he wore was also real and something he hunted himself.

"Our problem pet." Gojo pointed to you.

Sukuna's face lit up as he saw you, his lips pulling up into a wide grin, "Aye~ look who it is, my little slut." You chirped at him as he got down, he nudged you so you could roll on your back.

When you did he chuckled while rubbing your stomach. You were so touched starved you moaned while looking up at him pitifully. You didn't care how degrading this was, as long as you allowed Sukuna to do what he wanted he was quick to give you a reward. He was sadistically twisted and just as needy. He also had a shit ton of curse energy to spare.

"You like the bed I got you?" He grinned wickedly while inching toward the lower part of your belly.

You nodded, leaning into his other hand as it cupped your cheek.

"Poor thing, must be so hungry." He clicked his tongue.

You blinked your eyes quickly, whimpering some more. 'Yes so hungry! Feed me!' you wanted to scream.

"I gotcha kitten." He got up going into the kitchen cabinet.

"Oi!" Gojo threw up his arms, "Are we not gonna talk about our problem?"

"What's the problem?" Sukuna questioned getting out two pink bowls with diamonds on them.

Oh fucking hell.

"We are throwing a party and if someone touches our pet then it's lights out!"

Choso finished cooking, plating his food, "Why not keep her in one of our rooms." He slid onto the barstool saying a quick prayer before digging in.

"No way." Sukuna growled, "I'll fucking watch her."

Gojo scoffed, "You just want to parade her around on your dick."

"Don't act like you won't do it too."

"Maybe, but if she kills too many people the elders are going to get involved and they're already up our asses as it is."

"Maybe we can let only those with a decent amount of curse energy in." Getou suggested.

"Hm~ Enough to survive at least a little bump from our pet."

"Oooor~ She can do what she did with Aika." Choso spoke while chewing.

"Fine fine!" Gojo looked toward you, "Anyone that you might accidentally kill send them away, can you do that?"

You were caught by surprise when the conversation shifted to you. From their back and forth, you realized they wanted you to be here just as much as you wanted to be here.

"Yeah... I can do that... but it does take some of my energy to do so..." you spoke while cocking your head to the side sheepishly. "...and I am quite...depleted..."

"What do you think I got these for?" Sukuna questioned bringing you the two bowls. Sukuna filled one of the bowls with water and the other with a few scoops of peanuts.

This again… it was their little joke that they came up with after Getou asked if you wanted his nuts and you agreed eagerly only to be disappointed when he gave you a handful of peanuts. You don't even need to eat or drink like a human does. All you needed was their attention and affection, but they knew that all too well. They liked you begging and pleading. They liked you desperate. It was all part of their sadistic ways. Toying with you and searching for your limits.

Sukuna tapped your bowl with a black nail, "Come on pet, go ahead and eat."

You sighed looking into the bowls. You were starting to question if you had any limits or if you were just that far gone.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.Chapter Three.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

Me to me: yes just some light pet play, mainly the leash and collar.

Sukuna: and I took that personally

[frozenjokes]

CUBFAN NOOOOO THE ROBOT ISNT IN LOVE WITH YOU HE JUST THINKS YOU HAVE AUTISM!!!!!!

So. Like. Why did they make the robot hot.

This was a train of thought through Cub’s mind more often than he cared to admit, but it was weird, wasn’t it? It was definitely weird that they made the robot hot! It didn’t need to be hot. It was a child care robot, a teacher’s helper, there was no reason to make the robot hot for that kind of role. It- Maybe he- Cub often found himself flip flopping on the pronouns- was meant to aid in spotting potential learning disabilities in children, give assessments on occasion, and make recommendations to parents. That was it’s whole job. So why was it hot.

There were other oddities about it as well, but those made marginally more sense. The name, Scar, was just about the dumbest thing you could’ve called your mental health robot, but Cub could see how that might appeal to the kids. A ‘cool’ name for a cool guy, or whatever. Scar was also overly friendly, with the elementary school staff as well as kids, but this made relative sense as well. Obviously you want your robot to get along with others, be amenable to staff, and be high energy for the kids. It didn’t matter if this programming made Cub want to tear his hair out most days, at least he understood it. He was relatively certain Scar was also programmed to seek out shier, less talkative kids in an effort to incorporate everyone into the main group, because he would not leave Cub alone. Cub spent most of his break time in the custodian’s office for a reason, he did not need a Scar-sanctioned check in multiple times a day.

Cub had actually complained once to Scar’s maker; a woman named Cleo who came in a couple days a week to supervise its work, but she had only offered a weak apology, muttering something about age differentiation and troubles with programming, though, after that day, Scar bothered Cub with much less frequency.

Cub should have asked her why she made him hot. Honestly, he could probably ask Scar directly and get a straight answer, but Cub didn’t particularly want to go out of his way to humor the damn pest, when most of the time he could not keep up with Scar’s energy and would much rather be left alone. Well. That’s what he told himself most days at least. What really bothered Cub was how human Scar felt.

Cub knew this was the point. Scar had to feel human to make connections with the kids, get to know them on a level a psychiatrist wouldn’t be able to in a 90 minute session, it made sense, but it was equally disturbing because Scar was charming and funny and really attractive, and all of this was mixing up to be some extremely confusing feelings on Cub’s end.

Scar didn’t feel like a robot, and it frightened Cub how much he liked him- it. Scar had to be an ‘it’ because if it was a ‘he,’ then it would make perfect sense why Scar’s eyes lit up when he saw Cub, it would make sense why Scar was so engaged and excitable, it would make sense why Scar flubbed his words, tripped over his feet, was a a little uncoordinated, imperfect in all the most human ways.

Was it so pathetic to think of Scar as his friend? No- Scar wasn’t his friend, he was a robot, and the root of all of Cub’s problems was simply that they had made Scar attractive.

Whatever. It was fine. Cub had a normal reaction to Scar stopping by less often, he definitely wasn’t upset and definitely wasn’t paying special attention to the cleanliness of rooms that Scar was more likely to be.. Extremely unfortunate that Scar did not have to use the bathroom, and if he did happen to be hanging around, most of the time he had five or six little ones hanging off him at the same time. Not a great environment for talking casually, and Scar was more focused on the kids anyway, which- that was his job, it was fine. Cub wasn’t so out of his mind that he was getting jealous of children, for fuck’s sake.

Cub did end up spending more time in the staff break room though. Hanging around Cleo’s office when Cleo wasn’t in, though Scar was almost never in there alone, not unless he was prepping some kind of assessment.

Either way, whenever Scar saw Cub milling about with the other staff, participating in mind numbing small talk, or simply listening in a small crowd, Scar was nothing less than thrilled. Now, Scar was always this way with everyone, but Cub couldn’t help feeling like he was special, little praises and positive reinforcements always seeming to be especially geared toward him. Did the other staff notice? Did they also think Scar was giving Cub special attention? Cub would have asked, but he was not nearly close enough with any of the teachers to allude to any of his own attachments to a fucking robot. And regardless of how friendly a lot of the staff were, there was not a single person in this school who was easier to talk to than the robot. There was no risk with Scar, Cub could make a complete fool of himself (and had) for hours and Scar would see him no differently.

Cub startled at the school bell, indicating the end of the day, shiiiittt, how long had he been spaced out at his desk? He frowned, shaking his head. Whatever, whatever, the bulk of his workload would be now, anyway. Cub got to his feet, moving to fill the mop bucket in the faucet on the other side of the cramped room. Despite the heavier workload, these were his favorite parts of the day. He’d put his headphones on, get into the groove of his routine, and clean for two or three hours before heading home, usually uninterrupted. He really didn’t mind kids, he wouldn’t have stayed here so long if he hated them, but there was a certain peace to the school after hours, and Cub enjoyed the predictability of being here alone.

Cub screamed when he turned around to see Scar in his doorway, water sloshing over the side of the bucket as he jumped. By the time Cub had gotten his headphones off, thoroughly embarrassed, Scar was already apologizing.

“-Oh dear, I hope I didn’t get you too wet, I didn’t mean to scare you!”

“It’s fine,” Cub half laughed, mostly out of nerves. He stared at the water on the ground for a moment, easier than looking at Scar, then shrugged. “It’s just water.”

“Water’s scary stuff! Oceans, lakes, pools, brrrr, no thank you! Though, Jenny was telling me the other day about how her family took her and her brother up to their lake house and they went tubing and that really sounded fun, it’s a shame I’ll never get to do something like that.” Scar was always referencing one of the five hundred kids in this school by name, something Cub used to admonish him for, but didn’t bother anymore. No point when he’d go right back to it the next day. Scar also had an extremely concerning habit of naming things he’d love to do or things he wanted, which was way too human and way too disturbing if Cub thought about it too long. Why would he be programmed to want something he could never have??

“You and water don’t mix, huh?” Cub said quickly, realizing he’d drifted off, but Scar was patient, never minding an awkward dip in a conversation.

“Oh no, no sir, I mean, I’m quite resistant, I’ll tell you that, but I can’t be submerged or anything just in case. Water’s killer, did you know? Cleo won’t even let me outside if it’s raining too hard!”

Cub snorted, “Well I know now.”

“Great!” Scar brightened, as if he hadn’t already been radiant before, “Hey, I was wondering, do you have a free 90 minutes? I was hoping to spend a little time together before Cleo picks me up at 6:00, but I’ve got my hands full during the day, you know how it is.”

Cub blinked several times, and he must have had a startled expression on his face, because Scar reacted in turn. “No pressure, of course! If today doesn’t work, I’m quite flexible! I don’t do much in these couple hours anyway, just sitting around, twiddling my thumbs… But I’d love to talk to you!”

Cub’s mouth dried, but this time when he stared blankly at Scar’s doofy, hopeful face, Scar did not make any more amendments, waiting for Cub to respond. Cub swallowed hard. “I’m still working. Sorry, Scar.” His internal demons screeched and flipped tables all over the scape of Cub’s mind, but he remained firm. This just wasn’t a good time, and as willing as Cub was to slack off for ten minutes here or there, he wasn’t trying to get written up. He almost asked if Scar would be free over the weekend, then bit his tongue. It’s a robot, pull it together!

But Scar did not look disappointed, his expression never wavering. Messy brown hair, vibrant green eyes, just a smattering of freckles and soft dimples from his near permanent crooked smile- Cub was hopeless.

“Cub?”

Cub blinked, and Scar’s expression had shifted, still cheerful, but more inquisitive. Cub got the feeling he’d missed something. “Sorry- What was that?”

“I thought I’d help you! You were going to mop the bathrooms, right? I can’t imagine this taking more than three hours alone, but if you’ve got a second mop, we’ll cut the time right in half! You can carve out a little time for me, can’t you, Cub?” Scar winked, and Cub thought he might die.

“I don’t just clean the bathrooms, Scar. All the classrooms, the cafeteria, and I have to vacuum the carpets on the first and second floors today as well. It’s probably not going to happen.”

“Oh dear, that is a lot.” Scar rubbed at the nonexistent stubble on his chin, straightening and snapping his fingers as he came to an exciting conclusion. “How about this, then! Next week, Wednesday, Cleo can’t pick me up until 8:00! I’ll be around all day, and you’ll be off by then, right? And in the meantime, I’ll keep you company! An apology for scaring you so bad, how does that sound?”

“I-“ Cub couldn’t think of anything better. “I’d like that.”

Scar seemed to have negative effects on Cub’s productivity, but if Scar noticed, he didn’t care, and Cub certainly didn’t mind. Well. He minded a little bit. This was not the relaxing music-listening routine Cub had been looking forward to, but he did get to spend a lot more time ogling Scar and listening to him ramble on about nothing in particular, which was nice. Apparently Suzy and Brenda weren’t getting along again, and Scar just wasn’t sure what to do! Cub had no advice to give, even despite Scar’s attempts to claw it out of him. Scar wanted clear, critical answers, solid directions, and all Cub had to offer was ‘that’s crazy, man,’ and ‘kids are wild,’ and ‘I never got up to any of that stuff, I wouldn’t know.’

However, this did prompt a conversation about Cub’s childhood, specifically what he was like as a kid, which was a little more engaging, though Cub didn’t have much more to say about himself that Scar didn’t already know. Cub politely dismissed questions along the lines of ‘did you have trouble making friends growing up?’ and outright rolled his eyes when Scar asked if he had a family history of neurodivergence, but these were all just symptoms of Scar’s programming, nothing more. Scar seemed to be able to tell Cub had no interest in this conversation given his curt or non-committal answers, and the subject was soon changed. A happy Scar was most content when both parties were having a good time after all.

“This was a lot of fun!” Scar said as Cub was finishing up with the vacuum, but given the noise, Scar had to yell to be heard, which was comical in itself. “I really like hanging out with you, Cub! It’s been so great seeing you around more often, I hope you keep doing what you’re doing here!”

Cub hated that he flushed at that, but luckily he was facing away, moving steadily down the hall while Scar trailed after him. It just killed him that Scar was so- so- the way that he was! Kind, generous, always playful.. As much as it was a bear to take the mop away from Scar every time he tried to use it like a sword, it was also fun, and it really made Cub dwell on how much of that he was missing from his normal life. Someone fun. Someone who spared no expense when it came to kindness, little compliments, someone who just wanted to make Cub feel comfortable, feel good.

“Thank you, Scar.” Cub mumbled, but there was no way Scar heard him over the vacuum. That was fine. He was feeling a little too vulnerable to repeat himself.

And that night, he lay awake in bed, cursing himself for being so weak. Scar was a robot, literally wire and plastic, its show of emotions adaptive to appeal to children, nothing more, nothing less.

But Scar liked him. Scar liked him, Cub was so sure of it- Scar wanted to hang out, was always happy to see Cub, always engaged, always dropping little bits of praise- Scar wanted to be alone with him. Surely there was a reason, wasn’t there? Maybe Scar was sentient, maybe he wanted Cub to know, to know that he was trapped in the house of his maniacal maker, and wanted to run away, live somewhere safe with someone he knew he could trust. Of course he could trust Cub- Cub had- well, he’d dropped out of college so it’s not like he had a degree in robotics or anything, but he knew some coding, and he was sure if something broke he could figure it out! He would put the work in, he would do it if Scar needed him to.

Perhaps that was a little bit deranged of a fantasy. Rein it in a little, Cub.

Maybe Scar wanted to kiss him. Maybe he’d seen it on TV, knew the idea, the basics, the why and the how, but he’d never done it before and he wanted to know it, wanted to try. Anyone would be curious, wouldn’t they? Cub wasn’t- he wasn’t a particularly great kisser, but Scar wouldn’t know that, would he. Cub would be a perfectly serviceable first kiss, and he could- oh, maybe he should really make an effort to use more chapstick before next Wednesday.

This was so stupid. He could not be crushing on a robot.

…

Maybe it would be acceptable to crush on the robot if it did actually want to kiss him. Surely it liked him. It wouldn’t be giving Cub so much special attention otherwise!

Oooohh if Cub shared a bed with a robot, its skin would be cold, right? Cub was always getting so hot at night, but he hated giving up the weight of his covers. If he was hot he couldn’t sleep though- Yes. A robot boyfriend would be the solution.

The week leading up to Cub and Scar’s- whatever this was going to be, was uneventful. He didn’t sense that Scar was acting any differently this week, but given the fact that Scar’s normal was a little bit out of his mind, maybe that meant nothing. Scar seemed excited about their meeting, reminding Cub every few days, though he didn’t seem nervous. Cub wasn’t actually sure if he could remember a time Scar had ever acted apprehensively; maybe that wasn’t something he was programmed to be able to do. Cub was a little bit enchanted by the idea of that. Scar, ever-confident, never held back by nerves or anxiety, wouldn’t that be a nice guy to have around. Cub bet Scar could order in a drive through window without stuttering, and he’d probably be able to talk loudly and clearly too, get the order across on the first try. What a guy…

After Cub stopped feeling pathetic about these dullest of benign fantasies, he got back to work. Though, the day of their Big Meeting, Cub was having quite a bit of trouble keeping it together. He hadn’t slept well the night before, spending hours unable to stop thinking about this, about Scar, about what Scar might want with Cub, ranging from plausible to utterly absurd. Scar had managed to entirely consume his thoughts, and all of this to blame on the fact that Cleo made their stupid mental health child care robot attractive.

Maybe Cub would ask. If this was a romantic meeting, he didn’t think it would come completely out of nowhere, not that Scar would mind either way. It was a reasonable question, in his humble opinion! Scar was obviously into him, or he wouldn’t ask to hang out alone together for an extended period of time! And all the other stuff! Cub could make a red stringed cork board out of Scar’s suspicious behavior, and truly, all lines could only lead back to one thing.

And so the time came.

Cub didn’t see Scar around very much after school let out for the kids, but that wasn’t particularly abnormal, only noticeable because Cub was thinking about him so much. God, honestly, whatever happened, it would be a relief for this thing to just be over so Cub would regain the ability to think about anything else.

Cub poked his head into Cleo’s office, relieved to see Scar there. It was a nice room, much like a therapist’s office, which Cub supposed made sense. There was a desk, a place Cub assumed Cleo often sat, but Scar was in a comfier looking chair, messing with something on the coffee table. He looked up when Cub opened the door further, brightening instantly.

“Hello! Come in, come in, I can’t wait to talk to you!” Scar gestured to the loveseat across from him, and Cub entered gingerly, looking around with some caution. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but this.. he wasn’t sure. Something about it seemed so ordinary. Cub supposed this was the consequence of getting in his head about things. He closed the door behind himself before taking a seat.

“Hey, it’s good to see you.” Cub paused, grappling with himself internally on whether or not to just shoot his shot. There wasn’t really a reason not to, was there? “Missed you today,” and the words came out strangled, just about the most miserable, pathetic sounding noise he could have made.

Scar laughed, not unkindly, “I’ve been busy, unfortunately! Figured you might be as well, and I wouldn’t want you getting too sick of me before we got to spend some proper time together.”

Cub shifted in his seat, “I don’t know about that.”

“According to Cleo, it is extremely easy to get sick of me, and I think she would know! Cleo’s the expert on all things me after all.”

“That’s- That’s not very nice of them to say.” This was it, surely. Cleo was treating Scar badly, he needed help.

“Oh, well I’m not really capable of having my feelings hurt, so it’s not a big deal. I’d rather she be honest with me so I can continue to improve! I know you yourself said I can be overbearing as well, and I appreciate the feedback.”

“I-I didn’t mean-“

“Don’t worry about it,” and Scar was kind, so kind, “Again, it is literally impossible to hurt my feelings. You can’t do it.” He brightened, “Try! try!”

“I don’t have anything bad to say about you Scar-“

“You do, I know you do, Cleo told me!” Scar was thrilled by the idea of this, while Cub’s distress only mounted. And then, in what must have been his best Cleo impression, continued on, “That poor custodian! Leave him alone, Scar, he wants nothing to do with you!”

“I- Hey! I did not say that! I actually did not say that. I can’t believe this.”

“What did you say?” Scar looked so amused, and Cub couldn’t help but humor him, crumbling.

“I just called you a pain in the ass- but I didn’t mean it! It’s not like I’m doing that much anyway, I like talking to you-“

“Weak.”

Cub gawked, “What?”

“Come on, Cub, I’ve heard that before plenty of times! Do you know how often Cleo calls me a pain in her side, geez Louise, it’s like I’m not her beloved psychiatrist invention, she should really treat me better! Now, Timmy the other day called me a-”

“Does that bother you?”

Scar stopped, blinking in surprise. “Does what bother me?”

“That Cleo doesn’t treat you well.” Cub found himself fidgeting, struggling to look at Scar when his eyes softened, almost pitying.

“I’m not human, Cub. Sometimes I wish I could understand what it’s like to be you, so eager to personify the smallest things, though, I do realize the impulse is stronger when I..” Scar gestured vaguely to himself, “Y’know. It’s funny, a little. Cleo thought implementing me as a prototype would be a lot harder than it was, with me being as I am, but it turns out a human face does a lot of the heavy lifting. I hardly have to do more than exist for people to assume I’m just like them, but you’d do better to remember that’s not the case.” Just when Cub was finding himself a little unnerved, Scar sat up, clapping his hands, “But Cleo and I are friends! I’m sure if I was allowed to swear I’d have a couple choice words to share with them too, but alas! Truly, if you continue to be concerned despite the fact that I literally lack the ability to care, Cleo gets their comeuppance from time to time. I earn that title of being a pain, I’ll tell you that.”

Cub wasn’t entirely sure what to do with all of this, but Scar didn’t seem to be concerned, opening a box with a- was that a puzzle? Either way, whatever Scar was setting up, Cub didn’t want to kill the vibe or anything, choosing to ignore most of that in favor of a lighter topic, “How often do you have to be censored? Surely you wouldn’t just start cussing out kids if Cleo let you say fuck.”

“Oh, no, I definitely would!” But before Cub could ask him to Elaborate Please, Scar laid a collection of wooden 2D shapes out on the table- Tangrams the box said. Cub remembered playing with those in school when he was little. There were picture cards in the box, shapes you were meant to create using the smaller pieces. “Do you want to play?”

“Sure,” Cub shrugged, unsure what this was about. Had Scar seen him fidgeting? Was he trying to give Cub something to do with his hands? Cub pursed his lips against how sweet the gesture was. He did like the shapes… There were quite a few of them, Cub bet he could stack them pretty high. “I’m not past the swearing thing though, are you seriously saying you’d go ballistic with free reign over the English vocabulary.”

“Oh! Yeah, probably! Cleo thinks so at least, but they foresaw this issue before I was able to speak for the first time.” Scar sat back, seemingly happy to watch Cub do his thing, which.. a little awkward, Cub wouldn’t lie, but he had more important things to do, like try and stack the octagons vertically on their sides, and this required a great amount of focus. Scar happily kept talking, “I learned to talk by watching humans have normal conversations with each other, and I picked up on patterns of speech from that. Now, in a controlled environment it doesn’t really matter, you can keep swear words out of your videos and make your confederates keep their language clean, but when Cleo started taking me out to the field to hear real people talk, you can’t exactly control what they say. I understand how to talk casually from listening to hours and hours and hours of natural conversation, and I implement that into the way I speak now. Because swearing is so common and elicits so many strong responses from the people around me, especially kids, I’d start doing it a whole lot.”

Cub bit his lip, half paying attention. When his octagon tower fell, he mumbled, “Well you can tell the difference between kids and adults, can’t you? Just don’t swear in front of the kids.” Cub frowned at the shapes in front of him, a little scrambled from his rabid impulse to stackstackstackstack. He put the pieces he’d withdrawn back in their place before looking at the puzzle cards. They were a lot simpler than he remembered; checks out, honestly. Perks of being an adult, or maybe not. He kinda wished they were harder. Still, he started going through them, placing the different shape pieces on the template and attempting to fit them all inside.

“Well there’s a lot to unpack there, Cub, but there are quite a few times it would be inappropriate to swear in front of adults as well- Cleo wants to to retain some amount of professionalism, so. But I also can’t do that.”

Cub blinked. “What?”

“I can’t tell the difference between kids and adults. I’m actually quite bad at it, believe it or not. I mean, between little ones and staff it’s easy, but humans have a lot going on! Some adults look so young, and some kids look so- adulty! When Cleo was trying to put guidelines in place, it created a lot more problems than it solved, so she let it be. I’m pretty terrible at gender as well, I’d probably guess correctly in your case, but with 60% of the school, I couldn’t tell you, especially the little ones. Actually, I could tell you because I have all the ages and genders of the kids and staff tucked away in my database, but this doesn’t generalize to the real world. Cleo’s still working on it.”

“That’s. Very odd.”

“Not really! Humans have all sorts of decision making complexities that I don’t, so it’s much harder for me to differentiate the little things from each other than, say, conduct psychiatric assessments. I get clear instructions, I know what to look for, and I can make fairly basic, but also quite accurate initial diagnoses! There’s far more variables when it comes to physical observations, and I’m no good at that stuff. Trust me, Cleo’s been tearing their hair out over it for years.” Scar continued to ramble on about the specifics of his own strengths and weaknesses, but he didn’t say anything drastic enough to pull Cub out of Puzzle World, where he was currently in the zone. Some of these were ridiculously easy, baby shit, but a few were out for blood, and Cub would not fall at their parallelogram shaped hands-

Cub’s head snapped up when Scar gingerly attempted to start cleaning Cub’s frenzy driven puzzle nightmare, and he must have looked quite frightening, because Scar backed off, blinking at Cub inquisitively.

“I’m not done.” Cub said, answer enough.

“I thought we might do something else?” Scar tried, looking hopeful, and maybe he sensed Cub was feeling violent about his archenemies The Parallelogram, because Scar added, “You can always come back to this, the office is always open. It’s already been an hour, so I was hoping we could do one more activity together?”

That certainly got Cub’s attention, though he didn’t relinquish his pieces without some hesitation. “What do you want to do?”

“Well!” Scar produced a small picture book out of nowhere, definitely one made for kids. “This book doesn’t have any words, but I’d love for you to read it to me!”

Cub stared. Scar stared back, just as unyieldingly radiant as always. He wasn’t joking. Suddenly, Cub wanted to give up his puzzle much less, but Scar was already putting it away.

“Give it a look, won’t you? I really like this story.” Hurriedly, Scar shoved the book into Cub’s hands, so aggressively that Cub fumbled to hold it.

“If you’ve already read it, I’m sure you don’t need me to do it for you,” Cub tried, still uncertain about this. What was the point? Was this Scar’s idea of a date? Romance? Maybe Cub should play into it in that case.. It was possible most activities Scar was familiar with revolved around kids, so he tended to share those experiences with adults as well.

“I like hearing what other people have to say about it. When there’s no words, you kind of make your own story, don’t you?”

“Well.. I guess so. I don’t think I’ll do a very good job though,” and Cub was certain that was true. He didn’t really. Emote well. Or talk like he felt any emotions at all. Out of all the staff, Cub was probably the worst person to improvise a story, even based on a picture book.

As if reading his mind, Scar spoke up, “You don’t have to be engaging! Just tell me what’s happening, I’ll follow along.”

Cub pursed his lips, but found no reason not to try. Maybe this was leading up to something bigger. Maybe at the end of this, if Scar didn’t make a move, Cub could try and shoot his shot. He hadn’t prepared for that possibility but- oh well, better to have this be a surprise than to think about it all next week.

He opened the book, and to the best of his ability, told the story.

Predictably, he did a horrid job of it. Cub was far too stilted, put too much detail into the wrong places, and generally wasn’t very entertaining. It was a pretty simple story, really; frogs flying around a town on lily pads, causing great alarm among the townsfolk and generating mild mischief wherever they went, nothing particularly eventful. The most interesting thing Cub had to say was his critique of the man in one page, eating a bread sandwich at 11:40 PM with a glass of milk- milk! What kind of freak drinks straight up milk just in a glass like that, not anyone Cub wanted to associate with, that was for sure! Scar seemed to get a kick out of that at least. Cub was relieved, though the rest was still excruciating to get through.

“And then next Tuesday, pigs fly, I guess,” Cub shut the book before Scar could ask for any critical analysis or extra details or whatever else- Cub did his best, but his own impatience with this activity made it clear to himself that he wanted more out of this, and if Scar wasn’t going to say anything, Cub would have to be the one to do it first lest he spend another week agonizing over it. “Scar, I really like you. I really like you, and I wanted you to know it, and I don’t know how much free will you have to leave the house with Cleo on your back all the time, but I’d really love to hang out sometime outside of work. Go to the park maybe? Sometimes I feed the crows, I bet you’d get a kick out of that.” Cub found himself fumbling towards the end, his own Being Flustered catching up with him.

Scar was looking at him so sweetly, that small smile ever-present, head cocked inquisitively. “That sounds delightful,” he spoke softer, and whether this was because he was reacting to Cub’s being worked up or because he was just pleased, Cub couldn’t tell. “Now, I’ll have to check with Cleo, I don’t normally have much reason to be going anywhere, but I see no reason there’d be any issues. The park ten minutes from here, yeah? We go there all the time on weekends! It’s where I do most of my listening to people; that and restaurants. I’ll let you know what she says.”

“I- Sure.” Cub released a shaky breath, unsure if he was relieved that this had gone well or a little scared that this had to go through Cleo first. He did not particularly want them to know he was trying to date their robot, but oh well. Surely that’s not the first thing she’d think, right? Friends hang out normal style all the time, and Cub and Scar were friends. Well. For now. But Cleo didn’t have to know that. Cub opened his mouth to clarify a time, and maybe also that this was a date, but Scar talked first, returning to his boisterous form.

“Now, do keep in mind that my initial diagnostic assessments aren’t perfect, and if you’re interested, I’d recommend going to a psychiatrist for further testing, but I’m pleased to tell you that you have autism!”

Something shattered in Cub’s brain, but Scar did not stop talking.

“Now, outside of our assessment today, there are quite a few things I noticed that indicated this might be the case, which I can list for you if you’re interested, but for this specific session, I can give you some more insight on what I noted down. For starters, flat affect and tone of voice, rigidity in play, the bouncing of your foot was near constant throughout our session, when you told you story, you never commented on the emotions of the characters.. There’s more of course, but sometimes people have those immediate questions I’m hoping to answer for you now. I’ll have the full diagnostic report with your specific scores printed tonight, and I can either mail it to you or hand it to you tomorrow-“

“Scar.”

Scar blinked, no less radiant. “Yes?”

“I’m not-“ Cub tried to collect his thoughts, but they’d all been scrambled when Scar catapulted several boulders through the glass walls of his mind. “I’m not autistic, first- Was this just. This is why you wanted..?”

“Oh, I really do think you are.” Scar could have puffed out his chest with how proudly he said it, but Cub was pretty sure he just imagined that. “I’ll include notes from outside our assessment, as this is the reason I’m able to keep things so short in the office. Don’t you worry though, all your interview data is entirely confidential! All data is stored directly in my system, which is not wired to any other databases that could be hacked or stolen. If you have any additional questions or concerns about the accuracy of my tests, diagnosis, or future steps, you can ask me directly or contact Cleo’s business email address.” Before Cub could even react, Scar was shoving a business card into Cub’s hands, pointing to the email on the back.

“I have to go.” Cub stood stiffly, nearly stumbling on shaky legs.

“Are you alright, Cub? I understand if you need time to process, but I would advise you to keep an open mind. Be kind to yourself.”

“I’m fine, Scar. I’m fine. Just- dehydrated.” Stupid. Stupid. Fucking- STUPID. “Goodbye.”

“Oh!” Scar couldn’t have sounded any more delighted at this news, “Alright, take care then!”

Cub slammed the door behind himself.

…

To: Cleo Z.

Subject: Scar.

WHY IS YOUR FUCLINH ROBOT CALLING ME AUTISTIX?????????

…

Cleo Z. [no subject]

To You

Hello, Cub. He is not supposed to do that. I am very sorry for any distress or frustration this may have caused you, however, I hope you take some solace in knowing I am most definitely more unhappy about this than you are. Please note that Scar’s diagnostic assessments are still in the testing phase, therefore, any of the results given are not grounds for an official diagnosis.

Regards, Cleo

[sukiipjs]

✮ BLONDIE : PT 1

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↳ nick sturniolo x masc reader

↳ words - 2239

↳ summary - you’ve been having a hard time realizing and accepting the fact that you’re gay, and in love with your best friend. you try to ignore the feelings but that only makes everything worse until you can’t hide it anymore.

↳ contains - swearing, angst, use of y/n, internalized homophobia, depression, crying, idk??? [READ PT 2 - PT 3]

↳ song - blondie by current joys

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° . ° .•

°:. *₊ ° . ☆

nick has been my best friend for years, he’s always been there for me, and me there for him. we met in the first grade when he saw me alone at recess on the swings and he ran up to me, asking if i wanted to play with him and his brothers. one of the many things i love about him, hes always there, always there to help, or just be with. from that day on he’s always been my number one but honestly, i’ve been kind of avoiding him lately.

of course i don’t want to, i really really don’t want to, trust me, but i don’t want to make anything bad between us either. even though pushing him away is probably fucking things up anyway.

the thing is, for months, maybe even years now i think that i might be coming to a realization: i think i’m gay, or not gay but bi? i hate labels, i dont want to be put into a box, its honestly just hard to fit into one too. i mean i’ve had girlfriends before and i’ve liked that, but nick…

okay i might be coming to another realization: i think i’m in love with nick. and to make everything worse, i can’t even talk to anyone about this because the only person i would tell is nick, but if i told him, well i just cant, it could destroy our friendship. he’d hate me, i cant lose him.

but maybe i’m not in love with him, i mean i love nick, i always have but maybe its not love love? maybe its just me appreciating our friendship more. okay who am i kidding it’s definitely becoming more, I LOVE HIM. he’s just perfect, in general, to me, to everyone. i want to spend every moment of my life with him, i want to hug him and never let him go, i want to be with him, i just want to see him again.

i can’t even imagine what he’d say if he knew i liked him. he’d probably be disgusted, i’d ruin our friendship forever. i cant do that, i can’t risk anything like that, i need him even if that means the best thing i can do is just stay away, make up lies of why i cant hang out, slowly stop texting him, i mean maybe it's not the best thing but its either i do this and try and force these feelings down or i tell him and ruin everything. this is better, or at least that’s what i keep telling myself.

☆ °:. *₊ ° . °

nick 🫶

| wanna hang out today? haven’t seen you in forever, i’m boredddd

| i know i’m sorry, but i cant today, really really sorry. still not feeling good

| that’s okay, hope you feel better though 💕 if you need anything tell me okay?

| i’d rather hang out with you and get sick then spend one more second with my idiot brothers over here 💀

i stare at the message on my screen, i’m not sick, i’m just trying to be a good friend… by avoiding my best friend… sure, whatever.

i slam down my phone on my mattress, rolling over and burying my face in my pillow. muffled screams from my mouth as tears, start to pour from my eyes. every time i message him, saying i cant hang out i immediately regret it. i want to see him, i always do but again, i cant, i fucking cant. it would only make my feelings stronger and i just need to get rid of them as soon as i can so things can just go back to how they were.

fuck, here comes the spiral that ive been replaying in my head forever. do i even really like him? am i really bi, gay, straight, whatever the fuck? i don’t even know, it’s all too confusing and stressful right now. why can’t i just be me? and have my best friend with me again? actually hang out with him, see him?

all i can really do right now is continue screaming and crying into my pillow about how much of a shitty friend i’m being, great. I constantly stalk his instagram, trying to see if i do really like him and try to see what he’s up to without me, i miss him so much.

…i wish he was a girl then i would be straight and all this shit wouldn’t hurt so much. i’m not trying to say that being gay is bad, all i’m saying is that it would be easier to figure all this out if i was straight and he was a girl. i know that’s so messed up to say but i don’t know how else to put it.

if he was a girl, i’d know that i’m in love with him, i wouldn’t be so afraid to accept myself because there wouldn’t be anything to accept. i’d just be me and he’d she’d be him her, i’d get to be his her boyfriend and we’d be a happy couple. i’d be happy and i wouldn’t have to push the person i love most in this stupid world away…

i smash my face into my silky white pillowcase over and over, shaking my head as i force the sides of the pillow into my face more. i want to suffocate.

i scream into my pillow more and more. ‘i love you nick, i love you nick, i love you. i DONT love you nick, i DONT love you nick, i DONT love you… but i do, i really really do, but i cant… i really really fucking cant.’

°:. *₊ ° . ☆

i stay rotting in my bed, spiraling about random shit, taking random quizzes of ‘am i gay?’ or ‘am i in love with my bestfriend?’ or ‘is it a crush?’ like i know.

soft blankets cover me, my silky pillows supporting my back as i rewatch rupaul's drag race on my computer until i finish it again, oreos and empty dr pepper cans surround me. and of course, nick always in my mind, everything reminding me of him, those stupid quizzes, his favorite show, his favorite drink. i wish he could be here, like how we used to hang out before i started ruining everything but i could be ruining it more, at least im keeping my mouth shut.

every once and a while, a message from nick pops up. him sending me a tiktok or telling me about how spacecamp is going or just something random, asking how im doing, if im still sick. most times i try to ignore him, turning off the notifications but i answer sometimes, only one or two words, maybe just an emoji, just trying to say something. i don’t want him to think i hate him or anything, i still of course love him.

the only time i ever get up from my bed is to go the the bathroom or get more food, ive been wearing the same two sweatpants alternating them and random shirts that i throw on the floor after i wear them for enough. my hair shaggy and a scratchy stubble on my face. i look and feel gross. i didnt think that forcing my best friend away and trying to figure out my sexuality could make me this depressed, who knew.

☆ °:. *₊ ° . °

weeks pass of me ignoring (or at least trying to ignore) nick and weeks of screaming into my sheets and sleeping all day become more and more. i finally decide to leave my apartment and stock up on some random things that will help me rot in my room even more: coffee, chips, oreos, whatever else i might want.

as i scan the aisle for dr pepper, standing in my gray hoodie with the hood covering me and one of the two sweatpants i’ve been wearing on, i hear a voice at the end of the row calling to me, “y/n?” my head turns to see who knows me that’s here, about to see how disgusting i look and just my luck, it’s nick.

“nick” a bright smile floods my face, i haven’t seen him for what seems like forever, i look at his blonde hair with grown out brunette roots, plus that signature nose ring and star earrings, of course he looks great.

he runs up to me, giving me a warm hug as he smiles too, “oh my god i haven’t seen you in decadessss” he exaggerates, laughing at me, “you feeling better now?” i tilt my head a little, confused but then i remember my lie. “oh yeah, i am. even though i dont look it” i try to scoff a laugh, looking down at myself, excusing how ‘i dont care’ i look right now.

“you look fine.” he laughs back again, “you know… me, chris and matt were gonna go out for dinner soon, wanna come?” i can tell he really wants me to be there and i really want to but i try to push it away, still.

“uhhh, i think had something later, sorry” my small smile slowly fading as his does too, i don’t think i’ve seen his smile leave that fast. “really? we haven’t talked in weeks, i miss you” he jokes a little, but really we do miss each other.

“i know, i’m sorry, but i promise we’ll hang out soon yeah?” i try to fake a small smile, trying to make this a little better but nick still looks sad, “yeah okay, see you later then?” he looks like he hates me, he looks just annoyed, hurt. i feel terrible.

“yeah, later” i’m about to walk closer to give him another hug but he leaves, to i assume go find his brothers, before i can. i’m terrible.

i finish up grabbing my things before leaving and driving off, replaying our interaction in my head. i could’ve just went? it was one dinner, that’s all. not a big deal. but it’s too late, it would just be weird if my schedule suddenly cleared up now.

°:. *₊ ° . ☆

i make my way back to my apartment, putting my bags down on the counter before going straight to my room again, flopping down on top of the pile of blankets and stuffed animals that cover my bed.

i dig in my pocket for my phone, taking it out as i grab a blanket to pull it over my face, closing off the sun that shines through my window.

i go straight to me and nicks messages, thinking of texting him. ‘i’m sorry’ too short, plain. ‘sorry, i was wrong i can go’ feels like i’m pitying him, plus just dumb. ‘i love you’ yeah definitely not. ‘come over? sorry’ again, stupid and he can NOT see the mess i have over here.

i decide on nothing and put my phone to the side of me, burying my head into my pillows again, tears flooding my eyes again again again. it’s too much. this is all stupid and i need to get over it all. this is terrible.

i go back to my cycle of curling up in warm blankets, eating my now new oreos and dr pepper and rewatching shows i’ve seen a million times before. and obviously stalking nicks instagram, he posted a story of him and his brothers at dinner. he’s still wearing those earrings and that same beige jacket he was wearing before, and he still looks great.

i swipe up, about to message him. ‘you look great, sorry i couldn’t come’ i quickly delete it and just like the story. i need to stop trying to message him when i’m trying to ignore him.

₊ ° .☆ °:. *₊

after falling asleep shortly after i finished looking at nicks story i wake up to like five texts from who? nick, of course.

nick 🫶

| are you ignoring me?

| like did i do something or what?

| are you okay?

| can we just talk or hang out please?

| y/n?

| okay sorry actually, never mind

my heart drops, i feel so TERRIBLE. nick did nothing and i never want him to think that he did something wrong. he’s perfect.

i pick up my phone to respond but honesty i don’t know if i should… i want him to know that he did nothing but he’s right about me ignoring him… fuck this. i just ignore him, still.

i shut off my phone fast and roll to my other side, curling up my legs and staring at the small textured bumps on the off-white wall that i face. i take in every detail, trying to distract myself with something else. i spot all the tiny discolorations or stains on the wall, the way it all starts to blur when tears, again, rain out my eyes.

they drip on the curves of my cheeks and lips, my hands are tucked under my legs as he tears drop onto my sheets, i don’t bother wiping them off. they make a small circle ish shape when it hits on my bed with a darker gray on my gray sheets.

my spiraling hits again when the ridges on my wall go dark as my eyes close. why can’t my best friend just be my best friend? why can’t i just be a normal person? why can’t i just forget it all? why can’t this all just go away? why? why? why? why?

☆ °:. *₊ ° . °

taglist : @slutforchriss @mattsleftnipple03 @mattsdinosweater @ccolleenn @mixvchelle @leah-loves-lilies @sturn-wrld @redz0nez9 @cheriematt @freshloveforthefit @nickuniversity @whore4matt @txssvx @will-yummy