#the thought of these applications makes me fucking sick

[raven-cincaide]

Post Canon! Yuuji wants to be a university student. He says that after all the war and loss he needs to catch up on rest and just be human- like the rest of them. He blames Nobara’s insatiable nagging about ‘finally being around people with taste’ and excuses it by saying that Megumi needs to find someone to love- whether the brooding guy wants it or not. However, in truth he misses the carefree school life. And he knows they all need a break from curses. So, after a lot of nagging from his side, the trio sent in their uni applications minutes before the deadline. 

Post Canon! Yuuji is dead set on living his best life in the coming three years. To study “something” while attending every book and nerd club with Megumi, every frat party and adventure with Nobara, and hell, maybe show off some of his god-given sports skills he shunned in high school. After all, girls still dug that sort of thing even at uni- the entire ‘jocks’ and ‘athletes’ persona, right?! 

Post Canon! Yuuji is determined to experience everything being a ‘normal guy’ could get him. He intends to make new friends, be social, live life and get laid as much as possible. Be single and date until he is sick of romance. But most importantly, he wants these three years to be about him, his wants, his needs, and to be a bit goddamn selfish for once. 

At least, that is the plan he declares to his friends as they step onto campus, Nobara and Megumi rolling their eyes at him before heading to get their schedules. While Post Canon! Yuuji headed straight to the housing office because he’d rather be Sukuna’s vessel again than drive two hours daily from campus to the Jujutsu dorms. 

Post Canon! Yuuji sees you, the administrative assistant so far from his usual type, and instantly knows his plans go straight out the window. He shuffles closer to you and the large desk you’re seated at, mouth dry and hands shaking like a teenager as he places his papers and ID on the table before you. He greets you with a shaky smile he hopes doesn’t look like a grimace. “H-Hi! I’m here for house- housing!” God, he sounds like such a noob. 

Post Canon! Yuuji can’t help the genuine grin that splits his face as you flash him a look that so clearly reads ‘obviousely’ before typing away at the computer. The way you act instantly reminds him of Megumi and Nobara, and he feels more at ease around you. 

Then, addressing him like an idiot feels familiar and almost like coming home: “Here is your copy of the contract and the key. You’re in the main dorms, in a single room on the second floor. recycling at the entrance, and the kitchen at the end of the same hall.” You explain, pointing out the location of his room on a map and then the location of the kitchen as if he was so helpless he wouldn’t be able to find it without your guidance.

 “Anything else?” You ask yet it sounds more like a common phrase you utter, expecting a ‘no’ and turning back to your computer to prepare for the next poor sod with a task a glorified monkey could do

But Post Canon! Yuuji isn’t ready to let you go. He wants more of your attention, so he says the first thing on his mind; ”Aww, man, a dorm room? Are you sure? I-I mean, I’m certain I booked a flat!-” Yuji rushes to put on his biggest puppy dog eyes- the kind Nobara says makes him look like a wet dog- “Can you check again? Please? Me and my friends are not from around here, and If I’ve fucked up on housing- man they’ll kill me–” Yuuji rushes out a full-on water-works story, he’s even impressed with himself, maybe he should take up theatre.

Or not, but hey at least it keeps your attention on him.

Post Canon! Yuuji drinks in you and studies every feature of you. From the dark daggers you glare at him, then to the way your eyes grow mild with pity, to how you bite your lips in thought until he’s sure he’ll recognise you anywhere, just by your looks or voice alone.

“I’m sorry, you booked a dorm room, and no flats are available at the moment” you put on that fake work-voice that instantly makes Yuuji’s face fall. He likes your real voice- mean tone and all- a lot better. 

Post Canon! Yuuji looks like a kicked puppy as he slowly gathers his stuff from your desk. He barely registers the look of surprise on your face, as if you expected him to talk back to you or pester you instead of politely accepting your words the way he does. But he notes how your expression shifts into hesitation and finally determination. 

Post Canon! Yuuji is about to leave when you clear your throat to get his attention. Then, you lean over the desk separating, you two. “You know..” your voice is quiet, clearly not wanting the gathering students in the lobby to hear you, “Not all the apartment keys are gathered yet so there could still come in a cancellation in the next few days... you’re welcome by to check-” 

Post Canon! Yuuji grins widely- the widest he has grinned in many years. “I’ll be here tomorrow!” he declares before being forced to leave your small office as your boss draws your attention away. But Yuuji swears to himself he will be there tomorrow, the day after, and the next day after. As long as it means he can talk to you, if only for a little bit. 

But first,Post Canon! Yuuji needs to figure out what to do if he actually gets a flat through you. Could he bribe Nobara and Megumi to share the costs with him? Maybe post a ‘room for rent’ ad?

Ohh, well, Post Canon! Yuuji decides, with a skip in his step, he’ll cross that bridge when he gets there. After all, he reasons, you have to do some insane things for love, right?! 

Author note: Thank you so so much, @ravester, for asking for a Yuuji-centric post canon hcs I hope this meets your expectations <3

And for the rest of the wonderful readers, what do you think? We have a Megumi one and a Yuuji one, do we need a Nobara one as well?

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All fics are unique works by ©ravencincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reworked/reposted/copied anywhere, please inform me!

[jaffacakesofficial]

every day god gives me a cruel sign i should've been a doctor but i'm so shit at chemistry that it cannot happen

anyways grad school applications are coming up and i'm planning on doing my masters in public health and social work so i'm gonna work in a hospital anyways and get as close to medicine as i can without being an actual doctor

[skyllion-uwu]

Am I nauseous because I'm hungry or because I triggered myself last night

[the-yearning-astronaut]

Didn't get the job I interviewed for last week

What a shocker

[s-4pphics]

click! 1 (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you need a roommate, and you love eggplant. [college au]

WORD COUNT: 3.7k

WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a reputation :p, they’re both rude as shit, crack, all ocs are black coded yeeahhh yeah, awkward meetings, slut-shaming, brief cunninglingus, mention of eviction, smut later yall know tha vibes 

two. three. four.

A/N: short part just stay w me lemme cook... excited 2 write this lets get this shit yall

“W-What do you mean you’re moving?” 

Your roommate and best friend wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you close. Tears flooded in your eyes as she whispered the daunting news, your heart cracking in your chest. 

“I’m moving soon, stink.” Too soon, according to her. She’ll be gone by next week. Amaya snickered sadly as she cooed in your temple. “It's for good reason, though.”

Your ears perk, a curious hum vibrating her shoulder. 

“I got that internship— “

All sadness melds into excitement for your favorite person. You leap into her arms with squeals of congratulatory joy, planting smacking kisses all over her squishy cheek. 

“Oh my god! You should’ve said that first, bitch! What the fuck!” You wipe your tears on her hoodie. 

Her laughter rattles through your neck, “I just found out after class! I almost got hit by a fucking bus reading the email.” 

Amaya sets you down, rambles about her new position as a songwriting intern spilling from her like an overfilled glass. Tears of joy flow from you and her as she retells every detail about her acceptance. She’s leaving in a week and a half and going farther than you thought. 

“Girl… you’re really moving to New York?” 

“Only for like… four months, max. But yeah… Boutta be on BET come next year— “

“Maya.” 

“Hm?”

“… I can’t pay rent by myself,” you whisper, cringing and embarrassed. 

You hate to ruin her moment, but you’re concerned; Living off campus isn’t cheap and moving in the middle of the semester is less than ideal. It’d be a fucking hassle, and — to be frank — you’re not a people person. 

People like having you around because you’re fun, sure. But your reputation isn’t what you hoped for it to be when you moved out of your dad’s place for school. You wanted to be recognized for your creativity, and while your professors never hesitated to praise your talents, your peers failed to see past the status that was placed upon you. 

Frankly, you’re deemed as a dumb whore, especially after your falling out with one of the campuses best softball pitchers. 

It wasn’t even your fault. One raunchy snap to the wrong person and people think you live for sex and sex only! Just when you think everyone is over slut-shaming… 

“You thought I was gonna leave you to fend for yourself? Guess what I did.” 

Oh God. “What?” 

She twiddles her fingers together villainously, “I may or may not have set up an application on the student homepage— “

The small glimmer of hope washes away, shoulders dropping, fingers coming up to massage your temples.  

“Maya…” You exhale, trying to keep calm, “You know those things don’t fucking work!” 

Roommate compatibility is a fucking scam. No one ever notes how they actually are in the application. You think you’ve found someone that’s clean, quiet, stays out of your space without permission and the next day you find dead roaches under your couch. College attendees have no idea what bleach is and it makes you sick. 

“Damn… you’re usually optimistic.” 

“I’m optimistic about good ideas. I’m gonna be living with a fucking freak from Craigslist, thanks a lot.” 

“C’mooon! You’ll be fine, babe, trust me.” Amaya wraps her arms around your neck once more, wetly smacking your cheek before turning to paddle to her room. “Plus, you’ll meet someone new!”

When you don't follow, she spins. She must’ve noticed your impassiveness, poutingly asking to help me pack? Tears overwhelm your ducts once more, quietly taking her extended hand as she leads you to her bedroom. 

DAY ONE of roommate searching began, and you were already prepared to move back in with your dad. Amaya had enough time to orchestrate the housing agreement with you, making sure to highlight some of your most important characteristics in a roommate. One of the main ones being cleanliness. Some form of organization. 

DAY TWO was easier… Someone finally made it to the in-person interview stage. They didn’t make it far, though; They wouldn’t stop smacking their gum and it drove you crazy. Back to square one. 

DAY SIX came around and you were losing hope; Why are frat boys applying to live with you? You’d rather jump into oncoming traffic than house with any of Abby’s annoying, dirty friends. You've seen their house on numerous occasions and it never fails to make your skin crawl. 

It’s DAY THIRTEEN, and Amaya’s gone. After the sobbing fit with your best friend at the airport earlier, you got back to work. 

DENY REQUEST. 

…

DENY REQUEST. 

…

DENY REQUEST. 

You sigh in exhaustion and lean back in your chair. If you don't take a break from your screen in the next five seconds, your eyes will bleed. 

Why are people… so odd? 

The number of applications you’ve had to deny in the last week is criminal; Why are cis-het men continuously filling out applications knowing they’re not welcome in your space?! 

Even the people that made it to the in-person interview stage are incapable of being… not strange. You’d rather die than live with someone who collects dead maggots in mason jars (yes, you did almost call the police when they described their fascination with death in depth)!

All you need is one fruitful application with an identity to match! Just one. 

Amaya still calls from New York whenever she has a moment of peace to see how the roomie-search is going, but you can’t ignore the sadness that fills your heart every time she misses a call. Her laughter is gone, and your day-to-day life feels empty. 

They’re already working your bestie to the bone; You hope she can feel your encouragement from thousands of miles away. 

You scroll and click, scroll and click, scroll and deny deny deny until you pause, your eyes skimming over the application with a familiar name. 

ELLIE WILLIAMS. 

Ellie from stats, you instantly recognize. Curiosity perks and your brows furrow, sipping lukewarm tea as you skim over her contact information, her pet preferences, all the way down to her additional commentary. A snicker left at her blunt statement. 

temporary request. my last roommate moved and i’m poor. just waiting on this job approval. 

… Ellie in a nutshell. How relatable.

At least she’s not a complete stranger. Every interaction with her stirs in your mind as you jot her number down on a lone sticky-note. They were nothing special from your perspective: the two of you exchanging notes, her holding the door open as everyone scurried out of class, you asking for a pencil (and her asking for it back after the lecture), and you can’t help but wonder why she would want to apply to share a space with anyone, let alone you. 

She's only ever been described as standoffish by your peers. From the outside, Ellie’s blank. Flat tone, flat expression, plain appearance, and the fact that you never know what she’s thinking is unsettling. You’re thrown off your game whenever she’s near and you hate it. 

But the spot is temporary; Amaya will be back in a couple of months, and it seems Ellie’s leaving sometime soon by her small note. 

You down the rest of your tea and stretch where you sit, pondering. Trying to imagine Ellie in your space.

“I don’t know why I can’t take Maya’s spot. I’d make an excellent roommate.” 

Your expression flattens, glare piercing through your good friend. 

Abby scoffs, “C’mooon! I mind my business...” She pauses, leaning across the table, nearly knocking your coffee over. Her whispers send a shock down your spine, “…and I give good head. I’m a package deal.” 

A brow raises. Abby’s sweeter than candy and she puts it down, but you already made the mistake of living with someone you fucked before, and you vowed to never do it again. If Amaya hadn’t given you a place to stay after the blow up between you and your ball-throwing sneaky link, you’re not sure where you'd be. Definitely not a student; The stress would’ve forced you to collapse. And drop out. 

“Sorry, stink. Not happening.” 

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever.” She takes a sip from her drink, “Can’t believe you’d let that freak in before me.” 

You pause. “You’re a freak, too— “

“I’m the good kind!” She searches like someone’s watching her, voice dropping to a whisper, “Ellie’s fucking weird, dude. When’s the last time you’ve seen her interact with anyone? A literal fucking NPC. All she’s programmed to do is stand and look.” 

“And give out pencils,” You interject with a snicker, “Who cares. I don’t like most of the idiots here, either. I barely put up with your ass.” 

Abby raises her glove-covered palms in surrender, “Fuck it. When I see an alert about a missing student, I’ll know who it is.” 

“You’re so fucking extra— “

DING!

Your neck cranes towards the opening cafe door, shock surging through your body at the sight of the NPC in question. Ellie silently stands at the back of the line, headphones secured on her head and nose red from the cold, classically bored expression plastered on her face. 

“Oh, this is hilarious,” Abby huffs, “Go greet your new housemate.” 

Another glare is sent in her direction, “Can you shut up? Her name’s not on any lease. I barely talked to her.”  

“Do it now, then. Triple dog dare you.” Abby smirks behind her cup. 

You sigh and raise from your seat, “You’re a cunt.” 

“The wettest. Go.” 

You flick her forehead before making your way over to Ellie, who’s mindlessly scrolling through her phone. Her sniffles get louder with each step you take, metal music blasting through her speakers. 

You tap her shoulder and she jumps, sliding one of her ear cups over to hear. 

“Hey, Ellie,” you smile politely. 

“… Sup,” she mutters hoarsely, turning her body towards you, eyes filled with… nothing. Expected. 

Silence passes, and you fill it, “I got your app yesterday. Just wanted to come and introduce myself.” 

“Alright.” 

More silence. You can see Abby out the corner of your eye, mockingly swiping her tongue between her index and middle finger. You flush and stutter, and Ellie’s staring like you have two heads. 

“I, uh… yeah. I’ve been having interviews with some people that submitted a form. You free sometime this week?” 

“Uhh…” She glances down at her phone. “Yeah. Around five tomorrow.” 

More silence. Fuck, this is awkward. 

“… Cool.” You pull your phone out and text her saved number, the alarm ringing from her phone. “That’s me. Just call before you stop by.” 

She nods and turns her back to you, cranking her music to full volume. You gawkily shuffle where you stand before hustling back to your table, Abby cackling to herself. You plop down and kick her under the table, but she laughs harder. 

“What’d I say!” 

“Not a thing,” You hiss, “She’s just a little awkward. It’s not that serious.” 

“Oh, yeah.” 

“Oh yeah what.” 

“She’s definitely your fucking housemate.” She tsks in disappointment before a smirk appears, her eyes darkening. “Can I eat it one last time before she moves in?” 

A jolt surges in your tummy, your hand closing into a fist. You kick her again and she giggles. 

Time passes as you and Abby’s conversation carries on like normal. Another ding rings through the coffee shop after some time, and you watch Ellie’s backpack bounce as she rushes down the sidewalk; Abby’s rambles about a soccer player she’s trying to smash sound like gibberish. 

Ellie has a Spider-Man charm and laminated polaroid latched onto her zipper. 

… Cute. 

You’re going to fail statistics over a random.

Your professor’s voice sounds like white noise; Every pause she takes is used as an opportunity to sneak glances at Ellie. None of your notes are useful; The doodles and sloppy scribbles are solidifying that incoming F, for sure. Only fifteen minutes until you’re out of here. 

She’s two seats down from you, jotting down whatever she deems necessary for the midterm. You didn’t even register her answering the professor’s question, her rosy lips curving around her teeth with each syllable. 

Ellie blinks slowly, twice, three times before her eyes lock with yours, brows furrowed, evidently confused at your gawking. 

Your stomach drops with your gaze, fingers curled tightly around your pencil. 

The lecture finally comes to a close as your thoughts flurry, wordlessly shoving your books into your bag. A light tap on your shoulder yanks your attention. 

Ellie stands before you, puffer cinched under the bands of her backpack and cheeks just as rosy as before. 

“Hey. Can we switch the time?” 

“Huh?” Don’t stare, don’t stare. 

She sighs, “The time for the interview. Can we change it?” 

You blink dumbly, “Uh… sure. To what time?” 

Agitation creases her brows. “Now. Something came up and I can’t miss it.” She pauses, eyes flicking awkwardly around the room, weakly adding, “If that’s okay.” 

“Um… yeah, no problem…” You peer at the clock on the wall, “You want a coffee?” 

A slight wince from her. “… Yup.” 

She clearly doesn’t by the way her fingers are anxiously tapping on her thigh, but you nod nonetheless, hurriedly grabbing your belongings and leading her down to the student lounge. 

“I don’t want you thinking this interview is one-sided,” You pray your gentle smile is calming the evident nerves of the freckled girl. “You can ask me anything you want, as well. If you have any concerns, any questions, shoot.” 

Ellie’s eyes are glued to her coffee cup, but her head bobs, expression void. Silence simmers between you. 

“I usually start these off with an icebreaker to get the jitters out! Just list three facts about yourself and I’ll follow.” 

Ellie’s lone hand comes up to scratch underneath her ear before meeting your gaze. Her eyes are so pretty; Too bad there’s nothing behind them. 

“Or I can go, sure, so!” Your hands clap together, “I’ll start with myself. I’m majoring in graphic design, I’m secretly a theater nerd, and I dream about owning an eggplant farm.” 

The girl before you clearly didn't expect that last statement. Her brows crease and the corner of her lip arches upward in a barely-there smile. Foreign to her face. 

“That’s not a fact,” She mutters, the shell in her pupils cracking. Just slightly. 

“Who cares, I love eggplant. Best vegetable by a landslide.” 

“Sike.” 

You scoff in disbelief, “What?” 

“Everybody on the planet knows that squash is god-tier— “

You squint, “Squash? Are you deadass?”

“It’s fucking versatile!” Ellie’s voice pitches higher, and your grin widens, “You can put it in everything and you don’t have to do much. Eggplant sucks up everything in the pan and still comes out soggy and tasteless— “

Choked laughter leaves your mouth, “If you don’t know how to cook, just say that.” 

Her mouth drops in exaggerated shock. “I know how to fuckin’ cook.” 

“Right.” 

“I do, what the he— “

“Fun fact about Ellie: she can’t cook!” You kiddingly sneer. She chuckles and shakes her head, tongue poking the inside of her cheek. You almost miss her statement, “I take pictures.” 

“Hm?” 

“I wanna be a professional photographer... At some point. I take pic— “

Ellie’s phone vibrates on the table and she leaps into action, snatching her bag from beside her and standing from her seat. 

“Wait— “

“I gotta go,” She mutters as she straps her bag around her shoulders. “Sorry. See you later.” 

Ellie throws some bills on the table before dipping, her phone pressed against her ear, rambling about making time. She barely touched her coffee. 

Could’ve been worse, you utter to yourself. 

Days pass, and you don’t hear from Ellie. 

When you saw her in stats two days after the interview, she hardly acknowledged you, morphing into the hermit that you knew her to be. You noted how tired she looked, though. You would’ve asked if she were okay if she hadn’t run out of class without a word. 

You’re weighing your options: allowing a random oddball into your apartment, or allowing a random oddball who hates eggplant into your apartment. Rent is due next week, and Amaya’s space is still vacant. 

At this point, the roster is almost nonexistent, and Ellie was the least concerning candidate. Despite Abby’s concern, she doesn’t seem like the type of person to bury dead bodies in the front lawn. 

“I dunno, friend. She’s a little weird. Getting mad incel vibes from her.” 

Your eyes roll back into your skull as you munch on cashews, “You’re getting vibes from someone you never talked to. She seemed cool at the interview.” 

“Yeah, 'cause vegetable debates are so note-worthy,” Amaya scoffs. 

She’s starting to sound a little too much like Abby, “I think y’all are forgetting that this is a temporary solution. I’m not tryna spend the rest of my fucking life with her! I need rent paid and she needs a place to stay for a few months.” 

Your best friend’s sigh drags through the line, “Alright… It seems like you made up your mind.” 

“Like I said, rent is due. I don’t have many options.” 

“Stop stressing. You found my replacement, apparently.” 

She pauses before hollering, “BITCH, IT’S SATURDAY! WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU INSIDE? WHERE’S ABBY?” 

“Out smashing soccer players.” You huff. 

“Damn… My fault.” 

“I’m chilling. I just need head.” 

“Go out! Find somebody!” 

You groan, “Then I’ll have to shave— “

“Nair exists, you bonehead! Just go! You keep calling in a bad mood and it’s getting on my nerves!” 

You ponder and glance at your digital clock. It’s not even ten… Abby did tell you that Kappa was throwing.

“I can hear the engines turning in your big head. Bye.” 

Laughter explodes from you at the dial tone. 

“Hey, Siri… call Abby.” 

“CALLING ABBY BIG DICK SLUT— “

Tonight has been a blur since you left your apartment. 

You remember making it halfway through Blam Boom before your speaker died, downing your last couple of shots of 1800, and Ubering to the location Abby pinged. 

It only took a few minutes for her to scoop you up onto the packed kitchen counter and shove her tongue in your mouth. One shout of I’m horny from you and she was yours for the rest of the night. 

Now you’re pressed up against some bathroom sink upstairs, Abby’s head shaking between your legs, your jeans and underwear flung onto the shower rail. Each flick of her tongue is both clumsy and precise, applying pressure exactly where you need it. 

Your clit’s throbbing under her tongue, the muscle igniting the flame in your tummy as your climax builds, zaps in your spine. Cries of her name meld with the booming music from outside, the walls rattling like nerves in your toes. 

Abby’s gorgeous under you, you know it, the drunk part of your brain knows it, your desperate cunt knows it, but you’re no longer thinking about her compared to earlier. Your mind is elsewhere, somewhere it shouldn’t be. 

You’re thinking of freckles. Green eyes instead of blue. Chapped, rosy lips, and you don’t know why. But you succumb to it. Ellie’s trapped underneath your eyelids, crowding your senses, your empty head suddenly full of images of her in any way you could conjure. 

Your orgasm shatters you, but you’re silent, trembling hand glued over your mouth as Abby groans in your cunt. She’s a doll, easing you back down to earth, dragging your underwear and pants up your shaky legs and getting you back home safely. 

When you’re showered and your teeth are brushed, she tucks you in, gently kissing your forehead. You beg her to stay with you, but she declines with I know how you get before silently departing. 

Your phone is squeezed between your fingers after minutes of trying to sleep, eyeing Ellie’s saved contact until darkness overtakes you. 

The pounding on your door is worse than the ones from inside your skull. Fuck Tequila, from the bottom of your heart. Waves of nausea crash over you with every waddle, hobbling your hunched form over to yank the front door open. 

A bored Ellie stands in front of you, a large camera and headphones hanging from her neck, seemingly cozy in her sweater and puffer, large duffel bags packed to the brim with clothes dangling from her shoulders. Your cheeks warm instantly. Gray sweats, gray sweats—

“I’m here,” She states plainly. 

“… Why?” You croak.

Ellie’s seems just as confused as you, her eyes piercing as if her appearance is obvious. 

“To move in.” 

“… Why?”

Ellie sighs and snags her phone from her jacket pocket, swiping a few times before nearly blinding you with her screen. 

Your jaw nearly hits the floor. When the fuck did you send that? 

“So, I’m here,” she slips her device back in her pocket. “Which room am I in?” 

“E-Ellie, uh… there's been a mis— “

“Look,” she holds her pale, veiny hands up. “I don’t wanna beat around the bush anymore. I got evicted and I need a place to stay until I secure this job. I’m willing to put down whatever’s needed for rent but I don’t have time to bullshit.” 

Ellie proceeds, sarcasm slipping, “Respectfully.” 

She pushes past your stunned form, bags accidentally brushing against your bare legs. You can't even move to stop her; You merely watch Ellie shuffle to inspect the living room, the small kitchen, pausing in front of the abstract painting you made for your dad before eventually moving down the hall and into Amaya’s empty space. How the fuck did she get in the building, anyway?

Your deer-like eyes lock with her void, mossy ones as she peers over her shoulder. 

“I still have some stuff to pick up. Please leave my key under the mat if you go somewhere.” 

Before she enters the empty room next to yours, you hear her gruffly say, “Leave the lease on the table so I can sign it, too.”

Amaya’s — Ellie’s door slams shut seconds later, the soft click of the door locking follows suit. 

…

What the fuck just happened. Gall almost surpasses your anger. The audacity...

For the first time, you’re grateful that your shift is in two hours. You need to get the fuck out of here before you cause a scene and catch a case. 

tagggiiiesss missed yall ;3 : @starologist @hrtmal @ohlawdthebirds @villainousbear @timmy-27 @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @shurisbigtoe @emothurman @lonelyfooryouonly @imelliesgf @baumbii @brackishkittie @littletinyladybugs @r1miese @horror-whoree @elsbunny222 @elliesatchel @makemescreamel @lav3nd3rhaze @elliezflower @ellieloml @ellies-princess @saverdelrey @womenofarcane

[vnti-vntiety-recs]

Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better (M)

★  PAIRING: Academic rival!Haechan x afab/fem!reader

☆ WORD COUNT: 4.8k

★ GENRE(S): Smut, E2lover, Rival2lovers

☆ SUMMARY: Haechan and you have never gotten along, and your friend group is sick of it, so they make a bet that the two of you can't ignore. When put to the test, will your hatred for each other still stand?

★ ☆ WARNINGS: 18+, minors do not interact, Meandom! Haechan, aphrodisiac drug, mentions of drinking, sexual bet, sexual intercourse, swearing, unprotected sex, creampie, Haechan being mean, lowkey forgot what I wrote, so just BEWARE.

☆★ NOTES: Yuh! This idea has been stuck in my head for a while. Another saga of me failing the Don't write another hate2love challenge! FYI, I'm not a writer; I'm just a person who writes occasionally. Lovers in e2l not found more of a fuck buddy type relationship. Anyway I just wanted to say thanks for the support on my other fics. I don't usually write that often but the good feedback encourages me.

At this point, your friends were getting tired of it. You two were constantly at each other's throats. They initially believed you could'nt stand one another, but recently, the atmosphere in the room after your shouting matches was too intense to be fueled solely by animosity. The flames behind your eyes burned too brightly for them to be caused by resentment alone. They used to hold you back from lunging at him, but now they wondered what would really happen if you got your hands on him.

Haechan and you had known each other since middle school. You two shared a lot of the same classes, and unfortunately, you both had parents who expected you to excel in school. You were always trying to one-up each other or stamp out the other's resolve. Your relationship was rocky from the start, and even if you two weren't fighting for the top spot, you doubt you would find him likable.

Haechan was a natural at everything. He didn't have to try very hard to be the best; he just got it. On the other hand, despite spending hours studying, you could just barely match his performance. You were jealous of how easy he made it look. The fact that he would flaunt his success in your face didn't help.

“Can't keep up?” He would say after outperforming you on the final exam by 10 points, he had that same smirk that seemed permanently etched onto his face on full display. You had spent days preparing for the test, even skipping a few hours of sleep. Haechan never studied; the most he ever did to prepare for an exam was to quickly skim the material a few hours before the test. Even then, he would still ace it.

You expected to grow up and put the rivalry behind yourselves during high school, but he would jump at any chance to make you look like an idiot. You could say the sky was blue, and he would argue that it was actually the reflection of the ocean that gave the sky the illusion of being blue. Back in middle school, you limited all interactions with him for your own sanity. However, in high school, he somehow managed to join your friend group, so you were forced to endure him during hangouts. You eventually got used to his presence and the non-stop teasing. It wasn't until you received your acceptance letter to the college you would be attending with your friends that you thought you would finally be free from him. Haechan's parents had wanted him to go to a college that was 4 hours away from your hometown, and you counted down the days until graduation.

Luck was never on your side.

Due to Haecahan's tendency to put things off, he wasn't able to submit his application in time, and as the school was very competitive, the available spots quickly filled up. Luckily for him, your college had an extended application process, which allowed him to send it in late, and he was accepted. Now here you are two years into college, and Haechan is still insufferable.

You two were on two completely different career tracks, so your classes never overlapped, so at least you stopped fighting about grades. Being at the top doesn't matter to you anymore, anyway. You hated the pressure that your parents put on you growing up. Before, you would have had a heart attack if you saw a B, but now you just shrug them off. Even still, all you two do is just have petty arguments because that's all you have ever done.

“You would not be able to see an explosion in space; it's a vacuum; fire can't exist.”

"Well, I've seen Star Wars, so I think that proves my point.”

“That's Fiction! You know, like the idea of you having a brain,” you roll your eyes.

“Almost like your sense of humor? I was joking. Of course I know that I took astronomy before you," he smirks.

He was constantly trying to get under your skin. You take a long breath and try to calm yourself down. "Well, yeah, because I took a different science asshole." Your friends say it's because you always give him a reaction, but you hate being wrong. You had to get the last word, especially against know-it-alls like him.

Despite your complaints, he isn't entirely horrible. On the days that you two aren't arguing, he's making you laugh so hard that you practically fall over. He's not a complete jerk all the time; it's just that once you two get started, it's hard to stop.

“Oh please, can you two cut it out? You have either had too much alcohol or not enough if you can still think about arguing,” your friend Johnny slurs.

It's Saturday night, and you have just finished off an exhausting exam week. Your friends felt a celebration was in order to wind down from the trying week. Now the only thing trying was Haechan testing your patience. You're at Johnny's house, and everyone is spread out around his spacious living room, bottles of alcohol scattered several surfaces. Johnny’s family was well off, and he lived off campus in one of the few estates that his family owned. The house had two stories and a pool in the backyard. On the weekends, you would spend the most of your time here.

“You're right I came here to relax, not burst a blood vessel.” You sigh and take a seat next to Johnny on the couch. You take a couple sips from whichever unopened can of cheap alcohol is nearby. Even though you could already sense a buzz coming on, it needed to hit harder if you were going to have to deal with Haechan all night.

Hyuck chuckled and found a spot on the carpeted floor. "Sorry, the princess just seemed like her day was going too well; I had to ruin it a little," he said.

Your friend Yuna raised an eyebrow in his direction and smirked as she took another sip of her drink. “For you to hate her so much, you sure do spend a lot of time thinking about her.”

“One point Yuna, '' you smile at your friend's rebuttal. Arguing with Haechan could be tiring, but your roommate always had your back.

“I think you two just need to hug it out... in a room... alone,” your other friend Mark joked.

You dryly laugh, "So funny."

“You scared?” Hyuck says with a wicked grin. He leans back on one arm as he sips on his drink, still eyeing you confidently. It's at times like these that you betray yourself the most. He looks so good with his light brown hair framing his face; it's grown so long now that it covers his eyes if he doesn't push it back. The alcohol must be hitting because now all you can imagine is pulling on the soft brown locks and not out of anger. You must have taken too long to reply, because now he's raising an eyebrow at you.

“I wouldn't want to be alone with you even if you were the last person on earth."

Johnny cuts off Haechan's response before he can start. "Want to test that theory?"

Questions run through everyone's mind as you all turn to look at Johnny after his outburst.

“What, are you gonna kill us or something?” Haechan responds wearily.

"No, but I should, with the headache you have given me.”

“So…?” You urge him to continue.

"You two keep saying how much you can't stand each other, so how about we put that to the test?" Johnny closes with a sinister grin.

“I feel like you're gonna say something really stupid next." Mark comments

Johnny ushers your other friends into a huddle and tries his best to whisper in his drunken state.

"Guys, just hear me out? We can all feel the tension between these two. They clearly need to fuck or something, so how about we help them along so we don't have to deal with them trying to tear each other apart?”

“How would we do that?”

“We can hear you, and I am NOT fucking him."

“Oh come on, we see the way you two look at each other; you're both just too stubborn to realize it.”

"Hyuck, don't just sit there; help me out here!" you plead

“They have a point, though; you do want to fuck me,” he confidently adds.

"Please, you would be lucky enough if I poked you with a stick,” you say in distaste.

“Order! Order!” Johnny slurs, "Look, I have a way for you both to prove yourselves,” using his beer can as a makeshift gavel.

“Yeah, where were you even going with all of this? Man get to the point,” Mark mutters as he gets comfortable on the sofa.

“"What if you two take an aphrodisiac together and try not to touch each other? If you can last, then you two will win and show everyone how much you despise one another."

The room is silent when Johnny finishes pitching his idea. You think he definitely had one too many drinks tonight. What kind of plan was this? There was no way in hell you would go along with ANY of Johnny's half-baked ideas, but this one was especially crazy. You were just about to shoot down the idea when another voice interrupted you.

“I'm down. What? You can't stand the idea of keeping your hands off me?” Haechan grumbles upon seeing your reaction.

“what? I was just thinking this is stupid. What do I even get out of this? I don't care what you people think,” you huff.

“How about I give you each $500 if you win?”

“Do you-” you start.

“AND Mark does your homework for 2 weeks.”

“Hey! I didn't-” mark says

“AND Yuna does your share of the chores at your dorm.”

“WHA-!” yuna argues

"Deal," you quickly say before anyone can finish their complaints.

"Dude, this is not what we discussed,” Mark complains. Johnny whispers to him about something, and he perks up a little as Johnny makes him a promise. "Fine"

Johnny lays down the rules for you two. You and Haechan will both take an aphrodisiac pill and be restricted to the upstairs bedroom. You’ll have to stay in the room with each other for 3 hours, and if you two can withstand the 3 hours without touching each other, you win. If you lose, you both have agreed to play nice with each other or at least around other people.

As soon as you both take the pink pill, Johnny starts the timer. You make your way up the stairs to the bedroom, where you often crash on the weekends. This was definitely not how you thought you would be spending the weekend.

“We’ll come knocking when the time’s up! Yuna yells from downstairs.

You pout playfully and mock her from over the railing of the stairs. She was supposed to be the reasonable one.

“Oh real mature,” Haechan chuckles as he shuffles past you up the stairs. The staircase was really narrow, and you could practically feel his body heat against you as he went. The pills' effects haven't even fully settled in yet, and you're already feeling things you shouldn't. If you were planning on winning, you would have to get it together. Maybe this wasn't as easy as you thought.

As you make your way up the remaining stairs, you see Haechan standing by the door frame, waiting for you. He rolls his eyes. "You're stalling."

You murmur under your breath, "I'll literally give you my half of the money if you shut up for the next three hours," but drag yourself into the room nevertheless.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

The first 20 minutes aren't terrible. You guys make yourselves comfortable on opposite sides of the room and pick a random wall to stare at. As Haechan makes himself comfortable on the room's lone bed, you take a seat on a little bench that lines a sizable window. You're grateful he keeps his mouth shut. This was probably the longest you two have been in each other's presence without speaking.

It wasn't until about 30 minutes in that the effect hit you. Your breathing grew labored, and your blood started to flow through your veins more quickly. Your body started to heat up. To cool down, you placed your face on the window, breathing fogging the glass. When you looked up to see how Haechan was fairing, he was already looking at you with heavy-lidded eyes as his chest expanded with each deep inhale.

As much as he got on your last nerve, you had always thought he was attractive. His tan honey skin that glowed in the sunlight, his pretty moles that you would kill to kiss, and his gorgeous eyes that always made your heart beat just a little harder when he would glare at you whenever you hit a nerve. You loved seeing him worked up, but the few moments you got to see him when he was happy were moments you stored deep in the vault of your heart. You hated him; there was no time for admiring him.

You tried to shove those thoughts away, but It was as though all the thoughts you had been working so hard to suppress had suddenly surfaced. All you could think about was his plump lips and how they would feel on your body. How his fingers would feel encircling your throat, pressing the chilly rings that decorated his hands against your skin. His golden locks flowing through your fingers as you hold him close. You couldn't resist licking your lips at the idea.

“Don't fucking do that,” he abruptly spoke. He closes his eyes and takes a shaky breath. He spreads his legs further, trying to get comfortable in his spot across the room.

You try to fight the urge, but your eyes travel down his body to the bulge in his sweats. You immediately cross your legs at the sight. You had to clutch onto the pillows of the seat you were in; otherwise, you don't think you could stop yourself from crossing the room in a heartbeat.

“What? Can't handle it hyuckie?” You coo at him, using the old nickname you haven't called him since middle school. You had to find some ground in this setting. You couldn't let him see how weak he was making you.

"Out of all the times you pick to be a brat, now is not the time," he grumbles mockingly.

“Why? Am I getting on your nerves? Hmm, I could only wonder what that must feel like,” you sneered. You were so horny, it's pissing you off. You decide Haechan can use a taste of his own medicine, and what better way to blow off steam than to get under his skin?

“Maybe they were right. Maybe you do need a good fuck for you to lose the attitude.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

"Careful," he smirks, licking his lips.

You know that look; he's testing you. He's daring you to say something else.

"That's what I thought," he says, closing his eyes and attempting to control his breathing.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

You're about an hour in, and you can't take it any longer; you're practically rutting against the seam of your jeans, hoping for some kind of friction.

"Please, I can't do this anymore," you cry out for air. You turn to face him, but he doesn't answer. His eyes are closed, and his brows are drawn together as if he's in pain.

“Haechan!” You scream again; this time he slowly opens his eyes, and you suck in a breath as your eyes meet. His pupils were completely blown as sweat pricked his brow.

“Are you giving up?"

You nod in response.

“That's too bad; I still want to win,” he smirks lazily.

"Let's just forfeit; this is stupid!” You stand from where you were seated and head to the door. This prompts Haechan to finally move from his spot as he uses his long legs to cross the room in three wide strides. Before you can open the door, he stops you. For the first time since you two entered the room, he touches you. While keeping his body an arms' length away from you, he is shoving you up against the door by your shoulders. Your body is on fire at the mere touch, and you're grateful for the little bit of space he has given you.

“Calm down. Think this through,” he huffs as if out of breath. “just-just think of the money.”

“I don't care about this stupid bet! I feel like I'm going to explode,” you cry, fighting to escape his hold, but he just pins you back against the door.

“How about I take care of it then? Hmm?” He begs, never breaking eye contact. “I'll take the pain away, baby. Just work with me, yeah?"

"That defeats the point Haechan; we aren't supposed to touch each other; I thought you were smarter than that," you protest, growing increasingly frustrated.

“As long as you keep those gorgeous lips shut, nobody would ever know.” He slowly closes in on you as he speaks. “I help you out, and when we get out of this room, we pretend like nothing happened, and that we still can't stand each other, deal?” He's a breath away. The close proximity, the way he's practically breathing down your neck, and the look in his eyes that tells you he is only about 2 seconds away from devouring you were all you needed to go along with Haechan's scheme.

You stopped listening about halfway through anyway so you nodded mindlessly before closing the remaining space between the two of you. You're pushing off the door and pressing your body against his as you guide him towards the bed. Even though you can both feel your lungs starting to burn, neither of you has the strength to break the kiss. When his legs met the edge of the bed, he sat, giving you both time to regain your breath. He's resting back against his hands, looking up at you, and his legs are spread wide as if he were offering himself to you.

"Come on princess, take whatever you want from me," he smirks as you get into his lap and nestle down against the tent in his pants. You push him until his back is flush against the mattress, then mindlessly grind down on him. You use his chest to steady yourself as you throw your head back and drown in the feeling. You feel Haechan's hands gripping your waist and then traveling up your torso. His hands explored your body as you got lost in each other. Haechan sits up to meet your lips in another passionate kiss. As he deepens the kiss, he clutches your waist tightly to restrict your movements. You whine at the lack of stimulation, but all he can do is smile against your lips in return.

“Be patient baby; let me love on you.”

“This…was…not…a part of…the deal,” you try to finish as he lovingly pecks your lips.

"Didn't I tell you to keep your voice down? Shut up,” he says, ignoring your insistent whining, lavishing your face and neck in wet kisses. Any “loving” he was going to give vanished at your bratty behavior.

“Stop teasing, hyuck seriously. I think I'm going insane.”

You were on the verge of tears at this point; you needed him to give you some type of relief. That's exactly how he wanted you—desperate and needy—not like you already weren't, but he liked to push you to your limits.

“Lay down for me,” he says, releasing his grip on your hips and patting your thigh to signal you to get up. You swiftly move to lay on the bed, and you watch him as he pulls his shirt over his head and takes off his sweatpants, leaving him only in his underwear. He climbs the bed and helps you remove your jeans. As he's tugging the material down your thick thighs, you remove your shirt and bra. He settles between your legs, and you reflexively wrap your legs around his waist. He has to press his palm down against your lower stomach to stop you from grinding against him again.

"You promise to behave?" He prys your legs free from his waist, trapping them against your chest and restricting your movement.

You nod mindlessly, reaching out to grab him and trying to draw him into another kiss, but he pins your hands above your head, using his hips instead to further pin you down.

"Uh-uh princess, use your words," he adds coldly.

“Please hyuck, I promise I'll be good.”

“You going to be a good girl and keep that mouth shut?”

You were exhausted from having to use your brain to come up with a coherent response; you were at your limit. All you could think about was him filling you up, and every second he didn't, it felt like a year of your life span was shaved off. You did cry this time. You were so frustrated with him; he did this all the time. He never plays nice; he always makes you work for it.

"Oh you poor baby," he coos lovingly as he kisses your eyelids and wipes away your tears. "I'm sorry, but I have to hear you say it," he continues.

"I promise to be your good girl; I swear I won't make a sound, please," you sniffle, trying to hold back your tears.

“If I hear one sound, I'm stopping, and you can walk out of this room and finish yourself off, got it?”

You've learned to respond quickly when he asks you a question, so you nod your head with a "yes sir."

This makes Haechan smile wickedly. Who would have guessed that the same brat who walked into the room with him no less than an hour ago could be so obedient? He was definitely never letting you live this down when this was over. He finally decides to take pity on you, kisses down your body, and removes your panties. He threw your legs over his shoulders, and a quick kiss to your inner thigh was all the warning you got before he nuzzled his nose up against your clit as he licked into your entrance. He savored the taste with his tongue before licking up to your clit and sucking it into his mouth. The sounds his mouth made as he devoured you were wet and noisy as he slurped away at your essence.

You were fighting for your life above him. Reaching for a pillow that was just almost out of reach, you used it to smother your sounds. A sharp slap on your outer thigh served as a warning to keep your voice down. It was the only warning you were going to get. Soon the pillow is long forgotten as you gasp for air. Your thighs began to shake as you choked on your moans. Your back arches, and you can feel your eyes begin to roll. You were going to come, and you would have welcomed it with open arms any other time, but you knew how loud you could get. He was not letting up, and you knew if you came like this, you wouldn't be able to hold back the scream that's been dying to echo against the walls.

You try your best to fight it off. You frantically push at his head, begging him with your eyes as you trap your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to bite back moans. He shakes his head no, but the movement simply adds to the pleasure, and you're about to lose it. You try to get away from his mouth by shifting up the bed, but his powerful arms wrap around your thighs and pull you back down onto his mouth.

"Hae-" His look silences you, and your mouth hangs wide in a silent cry as you spasm on his tongue. It was the most intense orgasm you'd ever felt. Once he helps you ride out the wave, he kisses your pussy one more time before pulling away. As soon as he does, you snap your legs shut, still reeling from the orgasm. His face was practically dripping as he stared you down, hungry.

"Better?" he asks, brushing the back of his palm across his face.

"Mhm,” you reply, causing him to raise a brow, "better,” you quickly follow, using your voice.

Your eyes travel down his body until they reach what you’ve been craving for the most. Haechan was harder than you thought could even be possible. His tip was a furious shade of crimson, gleaming in precum. 

"One more baby," he strokes his length before hissing and gripping the base. "Just be my good girl one more time," he begs.

You almost feel bad. The whole time he was teasing you, he was also teasing himself. You're amazed he's maintained this level of self-control up to this point.

“I don't know if I can keep quiet if we continue,” you plead.

“Open your mouth” is all he says as he prys your legs open and settles between them.

You comply, and Haechan shoves your panties into your mouth. You try to object, but he covers your mouth with his palm for added security.

"My turn," he grins before bottoming out inside you. The first few strokes are so deep, you can practically feel him in your stomach. He's trying to keep control; he's trying to be gentle with you because he knows how sensitive you are, but he's slowly losing it. He's going to use you like a doll. His thrusts pick up pace, and all you can hear in the room is skin slapping against skin unforgivingly. The hand around your mouth clamps down harder as he buries his head into your neck.

“Im sorry... fuck” was all you got as he hiked your leg up higher on his waist, trying to hit deeper. His hot breath fanning across your neck and the soft staccato groans he lets out are the only indications that he is close. Your head is in the clouds, and you can't think straight. You barely register the fact that you came again until he bites at your neck to muffle his deep groan at the feeling of your walls tightening down on him. Next thing you know, he's snapped.

He quickly sits up, throwing your leg over his shoulder as he drives his hips down into you, practically fucking you into the mattress until his hips are stuttering. He pulls the panties from your mouth to kiss you in the hopes of drowning out his own sounds of pleasure. His kiss is messy. It's nothing but tongue and teeth as his thrusts grow slopy. He's practically whimpering into your mouth when he cums.He rides out his high before pulling away from your lips. All you can do is stare at each other as you catch your breath. There is a brief moment of silence before you both burst out laughing. He collapses next to you and pulls you close.

“You think they heard that?” he asks, panting.

"Oh, we definitely heard everything." A muffled voice can be heard through the door, and you assume it's Yunas.

You're too sleepy to feel embarrassed as your eyelids begin to droop.

"Don't worry, you two; we'll say you won as long as you don't try to kill each other again." Johnny's muffled voice can be heard next.

"I don't think she'll be able to do much for a while," Haechan muffles. Speaking to your sleeping form more than anyone else.

"I'll get the plan B girl. I gotchu," Yuna voice fades as she walks down the hallway.

She was definitely gonna grill you for the details. She always wanted a run-down play by play of everything that happened.

Soon, you found yourself drifting off to sleep in haechans warm embrace.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Johnny would call his mission a success. You two stopped arguing for the most part, and the group was able to enjoy more peaceful outings without the two of you turning every conversation into a debate. Your friends were fond of your bickering, but at times it could get to be too much. But now that your relationship with Haechan has blossomed into a….situationship? They were running into another problem.

You two fuck like rabbits.

No matter where you were, you two were slipping off to do who knows what or being all touchy-feely with each other, and your friends didn't want to see or hear any of it. But because you two seemed happier, they learned to cope with it. Yuna bought new noise-canceling headphones to use whenever Haechan would spend the night at your dorm. Johnny upgraded the speakers in the house so that when he had a party and you two snuck away, the music could blast louder to drown out your noises. Mark downloaded more mobile games on his phones to ignore you two when you would get all lovey during movie nights.

Haechan still picked on you, but he saved it more for the bedroom, and you still tried to test his patience any chance you got. You didn't know what you two had, but you didn't mind enjoying it while it lasted or even furthering it. You learned a lot more about Haechan and discovered that you two had more in common than you believed. You also learned he could be a real sweetheart sometimes. Maybe your friends were right all along, and maybe Johnny isn't as crazy as you thought. Maybe you didn't have to be better than Haechan all along.

Rushed ending opps

[btnclmrttn]

would u ever write that Chris McLean smut…,

(thanks for the ask! yeah bro I did write it but I was so late finishing that I let it gather dust. This is the exact prompt used with some clean up. If you want anything specific just let me know!)

(18+!Boss/employee, powersub! Chris, degrading, masterbation)

~~~~

When you signed up to work for one of the most trending reality shows in Canada, never would you have imagined how much of an ass the host was. Not stuck up or posh like the usual rich and self centered kind. Instead, that screen time act of childish games was applicable to everyone under the sun.

Chris seemed to go around and "test" people and their patience with shenanigans. He has his favorites of course. Some he's nicer to. You, however? He always has a shit eating grin plastered on his face as he goes out of his way to be the biggest minor inconvinience to you.

But how you went off on him without a worry of your employment made you his favorite. Made him strike an offer with you. Just a little extra "work" for you, in exchange for quite the raise...

~~~~

Chris’ eyes scan your relaxed demeanor in front of him, you sit in a chair with your legs cross and an unamused expression. Contrast to his own smug look.

'I don’t understand how you’re not ashamed of yourself,” you scoff.

"Nice to see you too," Chris snorts, with hands not shy of roaming to the crotch of his pants, slowly rubbing the already protruding area, "Don't you look nice..."

“You disgust me,” you continue, “I’ve never met a man as nasty as you are.”

“You’re so fuckin’ mean,” he cackles, “Keep it comin’!”

While you, on the other hand, don’t have much of a problem doing this as much as you probably should. You get paid extra money to fulfill your prick boss’ fetish, all while just speaking what’s on your mind about him. 

You can tolerate the display of him getting himself off to you, with his shirt unbuttoned almost all the way, dripping sweat down its flushed complexion. As long as you remember why you can't stand him.

“Do you ever think to yourself how perverted it is to get off to being called lousy? How many workers do you need to remind you of how much of a loser you are?”

“Oh, you’re just something special,” he says. He uses his foot to pull your chair closer to him, a bit crooked, as he unbuttons his pants.

“No touching,” you growl, straightening your chair again and backing up a little.

“I’m not touching you,” he mocks.

You give him a dirty look as a shit eating grin takes on his face. His dick springs up upon losing the restraint of is pants and is pulled over the hem of his boxers. The paled tip is smeared in his precum, spread across his length when his hand twists over it in a sloppy pump of his wrist.

“You really like looking at it, don’t you?”

Chris caught you staring too much. Much to his pleasure.

“Isn’t much to look at,” you say as you look back up.

Like he deserves the satisfaction of your attention.

“I think you do enjoy this as much as I do...”

“Pathetic is a great look on you!” You say with fake enthusiasm, “Fucking slut.”

“Yeah?” He sighs, his hips rolling into his hand.

“Really? You like that? Slut?” 

Chris’ face flushes a deeper red as he shudders at your taunting, his hand pumping his cock just a bit more.

“You’re a sick fucking man.”

“Mm-hmm...”

You watch as his eyes flutter shut while his head tips back as he starts to loose himself in his own pleasure. All just from your simple words.

“You’re pathetic, aren’t you?”

What if you play the part more?

“Oh, yes…”

“Say it, then”

He starts to twist his wrist a little faster. “I’m pathetic…I’mma whore…”

“Come on,” you instigate.

“I’m so pathetic,” he starts chuckling again, looking back down toward you. Strands of his hair stick to his face, “I’m so pathetic for you…come on, ___, I could make you feel so good if you let me…”

“With that little thing?” You’re quick speak without hesitation. The second thought following silently.

“Don’t give me that,” he laughs, “I’m average!”

The way his moans weave in so nicely with his laughter is undoubtedly getting you a little. You hold your breath enough to not crack a sound. This bastard and his charisma is no joke.

“I have my doubts, if your laziness goes as far as your usual hosting.”

“Aw, low blow,” Chris laughs even more, “What about if you touched yourself?”

You raise a brow, deciding to tease him by uncrossing your legs. “Touch myself?”

An excitement spreads on his face when his eyes jump to between your legs, "Please…?”

“You think you’re worth even seeing me like that?” you sneer.

He bites his bottom lip as he stares directly at your crotch, “Why not? You’d look so good touching…yourself..."

His hand starts pumping faster as his imagination florishes at the idea. The sound of smacking skin growing louder.

“Please, ___?” Chris asks again, whines creeping in.

“Why should I?”

“I can beg, I can beg...You know I can beg real nice.”

"I don't think you deserve that."

"P-Please, ____?"

He's panting like a dog.

"I don't even think you deserve to cum. Matter of fact, stop.”

Chris looks at you, surprised, as you’ve yet to ever give him an actual order like this, “H-huh?”

“Stop,” you repeat yourself, “Now.”

His whine from the denied access grows into laughter as a smile spreads across his face

"Oh, fuck, ____. You drive me insane…"

Standing from your seat, your hand undoes the button of your jeans as you close the little distance between each other. His expression flashes to a plesanly surprised while red spreads across his face and neck.

“Oh?”

“Start begging, Chris.”

“...oh…”

[apatura-ires]

Listen. I am not a Souvieshu fan, but I am a Souvieshu truther, in the sense that I hate how people misinterpret his character. People in this fandom seem to genuinely think Souvieshu is a guy who will chase any pretty woman, or that he’s a creep who specifically wants women who are childish, and easy to control, but like. Neither of these are true? (Souvieshu is still absolutely a creepy weirdo but like. In a different way. I’m sick of fans using the word pedophilic to describe Souvieshu, because it’s not even fucking correct in application to him, even when used as a short hand for when someone likes childish, sheltered and innocent people. Like this is a side note but you people have got to stop throwing that fucking word around.)

Souvieshu doesn’t want just any pretty woman. He specifically has only ever, truthfully and genuinely loved Navier, even if that love has become warped, and that’s a fact. Rashta is his side piece, yes, but it’s clear that Rashta is just some girl that he’s infatuated with, to fulfill his emotional needs, and eventually, for his political ones as well. He was never in love with her. It’s always been obvious that Souvieshu craved Navier’s affection, and that he has been wanting to try and not only make her happy, but rekindle their bond.

Please take note that:

1. Souvieshu knows Navier puts on a mask for people. These two used to be super close, and that likely carried on a bit into their marriage. But eventually, Navier starts putting up walls, and eventually, she starts doing it to him. There could be plenty of reasons for this, but it doesn’t matter, because they both seemed to have mutually drifted apart. Souvieshu is shown actively trying to get past her facade, although, he does so poorly, because he comes at her with a sense of entitlement most of the time.

2. Souvieshu likes Rashta, because Rashta gives him what he craves from Navier; which is to say, Rashta gives him affection, is expressive, has easygoing and light hearted conversations with him, and is able to speak honestly with him. Things that he and Navier used to be able to do with one another. His literal first observation of Rashta, is that she’s easily pleased and excited over small things, which is directly paralleled to a later chapter, where Souvieshu and Navier dine together on her birthday. Souvieshu asks Navier to smile, to which, she complies and gives him a fake one, and Souvieshu then asks her to be sincere about it. Navier makes a comment about needing to be actually happy to do that, so Souvieshu tries to make her happy by giving her a gift. This doesn’t go well with Navier, and like most of their arguments, Souvieshu ends up wishing that Navier could just be more expressive in a sincere, non-petty manner. He is always asking Navier to drop her mask with him. With Rashta, Souvieshu didn’t initially have to dig past a mask to know how she felt. Souvieshu liked her honesty and openness, and while he considered her innocence and childish nature part of her charm, it’s also implied that those traits are traits he could only handle when he was in the mood for it. It’s not actually something he likes, and we see further along the story that her childishness begins to grate on him. Furthermore, there’s a point in the story where he becomes sick, and he mentions that Rashta is not a calming presence, but Navier is.

3. This is the big one (and also me just making observations and assumptions), but both Souvieshu and Navier didn’t know that they loved each other. This is a big one for Souvieshu specifically, because he never assumed that Navier loved him, the way he loved her. I’m sure that’s probably one of the big reasons why he took Rashta in as his consort— and it’s because he sincerely thought Navier wouldn’t care beyond it being a possible image issue, and he genuinely thought that it wouldn’t hurt her. It’s actually Navier who is frequently bringing up that their marriage is one of convenience in her inner monologues— although I don’t doubt that she’s actually brought it up before as well, which probably wouldn’t help his assumptions that Navier wouldn’t be hurt if he brought a consort in.

Do you know why, it’s so upsetting to see Souvieshu mischaracterized? It’s because (outside of how people just slap on whatever term they think is fitting of him) Souvieshu’s side of the story is just as important as Navier’s when it comes to the intensity of the tragedy, that is their lost friendship and love. The gut wrenching heartbreak here, isn’t just from Navier being effectively cheated on, but it’s the fact that they both loved each other, and that all of this heartbreak could have been avoided if they both sincerely talked to each other without any hidden motives. Souvieshu didn’t seem like a bad guy before he took Rashta as his consort. As a matter of fact, I’m fairly certain that if Navier and Souvieshu had patched their relationship, and even confessed to one another, that Souvieshu would have brought Rashta in as a servant—possibly even asking Navier to make her a lady in waiting. Souvieshu wouldn’t have been so emotionally deprived to want Rashta, Navier wouldn’t have had reasons (that she couldn’t get past) to hate Rashta, and Rashta wouldn’t have had a reason to hate Navier.

And to be clear and reiterate, I do not like Souvieshu as a person. He’s a possessive, hypocritical freak, who didn’t take the time to actually get to know Navier again, and was almost always the instigator in their arguments. His love for Navier has warped and changed, and even if it’s ‘genuine’ in the sense that he sincerely loves her, it’s still not healthy. I am not an apologist, I just think he’s an interesting character. His character being misinterpreted, dilutes the tragedy of his relationship with Navier, full stop, and that is what frustrates me.

[sorendeimos]

COURTING THE PRINCE ━⁠☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ

A Severus Snape-centric Social Media AU

Sick of being single, Severus posts an application for all 6k of his followers to see. Things go sideways when he reviews them on the timeline, live tweets the dates, and more.

Read the SocMed on AO3 here!

Read the SocMed on Twitter/X here > [PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4]

So I originally posted this to Twitter/X and it's been a hit, so I went ahead and also uploaded it to ao3. We are currently about to enter part 4 after voting is done and unfortunately, I will NAWT be cross-posting polls, so if you HAVE a Twitter/X, please do go vote on there when votes come up! That's where polls and updates go live FIRST.

All that said, here are a few things to note:

☆ this fic has DIFFERENT POSSIBLE OUTCOMES!

☆ This has different ships including Snily, Snulciber, Jeverus, Snirius, Snupin, Snarity, Snucissa, and Snegulus, if you do not like ANY of those ships, please just move on. I love exploring diff Severus ships and as such, I wanted a way to dip my feet into them all at once.

☆ There will be multiple polls, some with explanations and others with none, to decide what happens with whom!

☆ THERE ARE NSFW PARTS! They are O N L Y posted on Twitter/X on the account @/tenebrisvigemis and they will remain there (unless I decide to lock them on a03, I haven't decided yet)

☆ If you do not vote, do not complain about who progresses! I did not pick the outcomes ON PURPOSE because this is INTERACTIVE.

☆ It takes me time to make each of the parts because a lot of this AU has moving parts ( like Rita's newsletter, the application, etc are all handmade by me and took time to build) not to mention the tweets, scouring the internet for images to use that fit, etc. Updates will likely be slow and/or spread out to make it as clear and perfect as possible, just because they take a while to do.

☆ AO3 WILL SEE THE LEAST FUCKED UP ORDER OF TWEETS. Every single time I have updated, I fucked up something, be it posting a tweet twice, posting the wrong tweet, uncropped whatever. So Ao3 has the version that I have actually been able to make sure everything is perfect and in order properly, whereas Twitter is basically unbeta'd.

☆ This is for fun! Enjoy yourself and lmk your thoughts, your faves, and your hopes! Sometimes your ideas will make it into the socmed! Sometimes they won't if they go a different direction than I have planned, but some little details make it through!

☆ AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST! I issue a challenge. Given I will post polls with NO REASON or explanations sometimes, I challenge you to find all the answers to the polls. Where are they hidden? What chapter? What tweet? Who did it? At the end of the socmed, I will issue a prize (TBD) to the person who finds them all!

So please enjoy, lmk your thoughts! Glad to have you all here!

[nebula-blitzar]

Just kinda in the mood to post this so like

There’s a lot of rumors and speculations on how Fizz and Oz met and when so I thought I would share my personal theory.

I think when the incident first occurred, Mam freaked the fuck out because he had just signed a contract, had been doing work for him on the side, and made him lots of money. So Mam calls up Oz and asks him for prosthetics for cheap. They were decent quality (especially for the price,) and Oz had written instructions and stuck them to the prosthetics so Mam would see them. Mam, being the lazy ass he is, threw them away and just gave Fizz the prosthetics, with no guidance on how to use them.

Now Fizz was further indebted to Mammon, so he couldn’t really leave. He worked full time for him, and was still paid as much as he needed to get by (decent apartment, food). At some point along this timeline, Mam also had Asmodeus make the Fizz-bots, which lightened the load. But Fizz’s performances became more intense, and further put stress on him.

I do want to note I have a theory that imps with irises (all the time) have chronic anxiety or other problems. Since other imps’ irises only appear when they’re upset in some way, shape, or form. So that would be Barb, Blitzø, and Fizz. Cash didn’t have irises, but Tilla did, and since she was sick and shit, it kinda makes sense.

So with all of this stuff happening to Fizz and around Fizz with no one to help him, he had worsened anxiety. But he kept performing since he felt so indebted to Mammon. Around the four and a quarter year mark, Fizz started to feel some pain where his limbs were attached to his body. So he asked Mammon. Mam, being the asshole he is, said no, obviously, so he just kinda..kept performing through the pain.

Since the pain was persistent enough to get in the way of Fizz’s performances, he kept asking Mammon. Finally, Mam let him go do it so he would shut up about it. So Fizz and Oz finally got to meet in person, and they learned the problem was basically some pretty severe friction burns from not wearing them properly (y’know since Mam threw the instructions away) and so Oz was pissed about Mammon not listening to him (as always) and wanted to call him to give him a piece of his mind.

Fizz stops him, saying it’s a bad idea, and that Fizz will get in more trouble, so he doesn’t call Mam.

Then Fizz leaves, and Oz goes back to work, but not without texting Bee asking if they can meet up (if you don’t hc Bee and Ozzie as friends we can’t be friends/j) sometime soon. Bee is obviously like totes dude and a few days later, they meet up.

Oz asked to hang out to consult Bee on the fact he kinda had a crush on Fizz, Bee is super excited (duh) and is like tell me everything they talk more and come to the conclusion Oz has a genuine crush, and him and Fizz should talk more.

Oz doesn’t want to be awkward and text Fizz just to talk, but lucky for him, a few weeks later, Fizz applies for a job application at Ozzie’s, cause he wants to be able to afford some luxuries, and for that he needs more money, and Mammons not gonna give him a pay raise. Since Fizz actually is a really good fit for the job, he gets it.

Anyway the pair get really close both business wise and friend wise, and Fizz does more shifts at Ozzie’s. Mam isn’t actually that mad since he has the Fizz-Bots to perform, advertise and sell.

At some point near the five year mark, the pair kiss, and while both sides enjoy it, it keeps both of them up late. So the next day after Ozzie’s closes they talk it out and end up accidentally confessing their feeling to each other.

So yeah that’s first meeting, how they got together, and why they got to know each other. I am writing a fanfic about this in more detail, and this is probably not the last time I mention this theory, so stay tuned!

Ps thanks for reading this long ass rant lol

[lordsukunas]

songs made by black artists that i think would suit jjk characters. oh my god this took forever to format n link songs. anyway, happy black history month yall!!!! i hope yall like this bc im sick of seeing taylor swift pop up in the list of artists gojo would listen to <33

gojo – starboy the weeknd, daft punk + ghost town kanye west, partynextdoor

for starboy it just gave im that nigga vibes, and for ghost town it's just the entire ‘i alone am the honored one’ scene. but mayb it could also be applicable to current gojo? idk.

geto – like a tattoo sade

fun fact: this is actually the inspo for my user!! the whole ‘broken by the burden of his youth’ and ‘hungry for life, thirsty for the distant river’ reminds me of his whole reason for defecting. he's hungry for life (wanting sorcerers to not have to risk their life to protect non-sorcerers & actually live a long, fulfilling life) and thirsty for the distant river (remember when they kept with the race/hallway analogy? yeah, and geto's goal was always going to be unattainable for him simply bc he didn't have the strength)

yuuji – adorn miguel + crooked smile j. cole, tlc

UGGHHH he's just so lovely. the most supportive boy ever i love my son sm, and that is my only justification for my song choices.

megumi – alone willow + nineteen pinkpanthress + answer tyler, the creator

tbh… idk bros been goin thru it this entire series, but esp recently. for answer, i rlly liked the first couple of verses (idk what to actually call it, but it's before the first chorus) bc it aligns well w papaguro n megumi. ig the stepdad could be gojo…?

nobara – no scrubs tlc + conceited flo milli + apeshit the carters + on my mama victoria monét

she takes nobody's bs n i love that for her!!! i feel like she'd absolutely love flo milli + megan thee stallion.

nanami – lotus flower bomb wale, miguel + i love you more than you know black party, childish gambino

sorry i rlly like him y'all... there's no angsty reason for these songs! n for i luv u more than yk, it's just nanami if/when he goes to malaysia :3

choso – do you like me? daniel caesar

i actually dk for this one... i just thought it suited him! yk since he wants to live as a human n when he loves he loves hard (shown by how determined he is to be the best older brother to his lil siblings)

toji – she will lil wayne, drake + foe tha love of $ bone thugs-n-harmony, eazy-e + crack rock frank ocean

i am a firm believer toji would like 90s + early 2000s rap. it just makes sense idk, also i once saw a post that said he died just a bit b4 no hands by waka flocka came out and... hey! for crack rock, it's just post-mamaguro him n instead of crack, it's his gambling addiction

sukuna – hater's anthem infinity song + hit ‘em up 2pac, outlawz + king’s dead jay rock, kendrick lamar, future, james blake + unbothered ski mask the slump god

he's a hater just for my son. bum ass nigga... and for hit em up: ‘don't one of u niggas got sickle cell or sumn? u fuck around n have a seizure or a heart attack’

maki & toji – worst behavior drake

self explanatory! them n their rebellion against the zenin clan <3

gojo & geto – oui jeremih

cause if weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! sorry but this is fueled by geto saying ‘we are the strongest’... thats it :p

[ceasarslegion]

For anyone coming into the shit I'm going through now because it happened at 6am my time here's a rundown of why I'm at my limit and considering whether or not I should even stay here or what I should do with my blog:

-at work last night we had an actual friendly debate about whether or not our EXTREMELY physically demanding job was ableist for tacking on "if you can't meet these physical requirements, don't apply" to the job application for it

-I made a poll asking the same question because I was curious what my followers would say, and included the common arguments that were presented

-before it even got 5 votes, someone responded with an entire fucking essay saying that anyone who voted for the "no, because some jobs can not be done with certain disabilities" option ableist pieces of shit who "need to educate themselves" and said that anyone who thought that way was actively causing workplace ableism and saw all disabled people as incompetent vegetables. ...That was the argument I made.

And I finally snapped because I'm sorry, do YOU work MY job?! Do YOU know anything about ME or how I treat my disabled friends or passengers I deal with?! And I'm so fucking sick of being treated like this every single time I express any sort of viewpoint. I'm so fucking sick of having to put 3 million disclaimers on every opinion post so I don't get dogpiled with bad faith bullshit and it STILL happens.

And if I'm never gonna be treated well here it's not fun anymore, so now I'm considering just making a discord server for anyone who still wants to talk to me or interact with me and fucking off of tumblr for a while from how toxic this place is

[according2thelore]

i just want to say its insane that this is the best blog AND the best ao3 account. unfair. also i scrolled here forever and came across that art of priest sam and now i'm thinking about what if sam ran off to join the priesthood if he didn't get into stanford...... i don't even know if that's a thing in the 21st century but omg.... dean breaking into a church rectory to steal him back from god....... calling him father to be a dick but also bc...

HOLY SHIT????

um--thank you so much??? omg??? i'm crying?

the best is crazy, considering there are so many incredibly talented and hilarious bloggers that make up our community, and i'm so glad to be part of them! thank you!!!!!! i'm so honoured you like our blog and my fanfic!!! that means the world!!!!! <3 charlotte also says thank you sm!

and yes! priest!sam makes me bark like a fucking dog bc it makes sense! sam, at college, tormented by visions and unsure why walking past the stanford memorial church in the middle of the quad makes his feet burn.

whenever he blesses himself with holy water, it leaves faint red marks on his forehead for the rest of the day that he covers with his bangs. salt really seasons his food, and he can immediately tell if someone put it on his meal.

and he loves jess--he does, so much it hurts--but he can't live like this, not anymore. he applies to seminary school (you have to be at least twenty-five (or twenty-four if you get it waived) to become a priest but let's ignore that for now!) and only gets in because his local priest advocates for him to the diocese. for some reason, his application keeps getting lost, no matter how many times he turns it in. it just vanishes.

he doesn't know that what's inside of him is evil, yet, but he remembers looking at dean sometimes and having to look away because dean seemed bright, physically bright, and it hurt his eyes. he thought it was misplaced lust, that burning in his skin, but remembers that painting of galahad, of glorious light and purpose and purity and knows that he wants that.

he feels it, when he undergoes orders, the burning in his blood, his weak knees as he kneels on marble, like he's going to be sick, and he's overjoyed, because that must mean that he's being cleansed of every unholy thought, every unholy cell in his body. the holy oil they smear on his hands moves on its own into circles on his palms, quarter-sized dots that sizzle.

sam tucks his fingers into his palms and pretends that he can't see the similar wounds on the crucifix, the stigmata that are a garish red on christ turning into silver scars on sam's hands, scars that ache or burn when he cleans the holy vessels or touches the sacrament.

he gets assigned to the smallest church in the diocese. he's happy enough, and finds peace in the quiet, in connecting with the people in the parish and the spartan way of life--no distractions, no decorations, just a purpose, a holy purpose. he gets restless sometimes, the lack of mental stimulation driving him crazy, so he prays to god to remove this weakness in him. he prays to god when he sweeps the floor and when he organizes the soup kitchen donations and when he brushes his teeth.

he's closing up one night when he sees a man in one of the pews in the darkened sanctuary. he approaches slowly, and asks softly, 'can i help you?'

and the man doesn't turn around, when he says, 'i had a brother, once.' and sam fucking freezes in his steps because he dreams about this voice sometimes, dreams of this man's hands on him and knows that his job isn't done yet, know that he's not cleansed of all the rot inside of himself, because this man remains.

and dean's smile is liquid and oily when he turns around, and says, 'but now our family's got two fathers.'

and sam's lost, the second he looks into dean's eyes, the exact shade forgotten until this moment, and sam's feet ache in his shoes like they always do on church grounds--on hallowed ground--, and dean fucking glows, and sam can see the shadows he casts, and sam's eyes burn.

one of them is holy, one of them is approved by god.

and it's never been sam. it never will be.

god doesn't want him.

but dean does. dean always does.

goddamn this ran away with me. do i need to write a priest!sam fic?? much to think about. thank you for this lovely ask anon!!!! and thank you again for your kind words!!!!!! <3

happy wincest wednesday!

-lizzy

[izzielizzie93]

High School Sweethearts, J Burrow

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Pairing: Highschool!JoeBurrow x Y/N High School Sweetheart

Summary: Do high school relationships last?

“What the fuck is this Y/N?!” Joe was sitting on my bed, holding up the hidden acceptance letter to The Ohio State. “I, uh, an acceptance letter.” I stuttered. “Why are you hiding it?” He glared, clutching it tighter, his eyes continually scanning over the page. “I wanted time to think and I knew I wouldn’t be able to once everyone found out.”

“I just needed to be sure of what I want, this is my future and I am so sick of everyone trying to tell me what to do.”

Joe huffed and shook his head. “Were you ever considering it, or did you lie to me this whole time?” “Of course I am considering it Joey, I want to be with you; but I have always dreamed of LSU.” I swallowed hard, digging my nails into my hand to keep from crying.

“You want to be a fucking teacher, come on you don’t have to go out of state for that shit.” Joe tossed the letter aside.

“Oh, ok. So when you told me to do what made me happy and that it would all work out in the end, you were lying to me?” I shot back, anger now bubbling to the surface.

“I was hoping you’d see that Ohio is where you need to be, apparently not.” Joe mumbled, standing up abruptly and storming out of my bedroom.

—

I had come clean to my parents as soon as Joe left and they promised to support me no matter my choice.

After two weeks of heated arguments in person, via text, and FaceTime, Joe officially committed to The Ohio State and their football team and I wasn’t there.

I was at home, formally accepting the offer from LSU and becoming a Tiger.

Later that same night, Joe stopped by and I snuck out to his truck. We sat there in silence for nearly five minutes before I spoke, “So you’re officially a Buckeye.” “You’re officially a Tiger.” He shot back. “Yeah.” I nodded. “So, we’re done.” Joe said flatly and I felt my chest tighten as my eyes filled with tears.

“We don’t have to be.” I sniffled. “Y/N, how the hell are we going to keep this up being so far apart?” Joe clenched his steering wheel. “What happened to all of the ways you came up with when we stayed up night after night filling out applications?” I asked. “I never thought we’d have to act on them.” He sighed, “I never thought I’d be without you.”

“Joe, we’re both going to be so busy in a few months. We don’t need to make any decisions now.” I reached out and he folded his hands in his lap. Dropping my hands back down, I was about to speak when Joe said, “I think it’s best if we do this now. It’s over.” I bit my lip hard as I rushed out of his truck, wanting to hold in my sobs so he didn’t see.

—

“Congratulations to the class of 2015!” I threw my cap up in the air and began to hug and celebrate with those around me. Glancing down the row, I met Joe’s gaze. We stared for a moment before I gave a small wave; which he returned.

A week later, I was all packed and ready to hit the road. My parents were in the U Haul and my sister was keeping me company in my car on the 18 hour trip. Just as I got into my car, my phone pinged.

~Good luck, Tiger~

__________

This was super short; but I’ve never posted anything I’ve written and I just wanted to put something out there! Thank you to those who read this! Should I make a part 2 after they’ve started college?

(Also I tend to stick to first person even with Y/N but do more people prefer second person and using you?)

[aqueeracademic]

Gayest House Scenes:

Season 1:

Unfortunately, episodes 1-4 didn’t have quite the quality of gayness I was looking for. We begin at 5:

Season 1, Episode 5: “Damned if You Do”

W: Maybe I'll come to your place.

H: Your wife doesn’t mind being alone on Christmas?

W: I’m a doctor. She’s used to being alone.

H: …

W: I don’t wanna talk about it.

H: Neither do I.

Note: and then Wilson ACTUALLY FUCKING WENT TO HOUSE’S PLACE FOR CHRISTMAS. and House played the piano for him and they ate chinese food because neither of them celebrate christmas at all, actually; they just wanted to be together. They just wanted to be together during the season of love and family. I'm so sick. 

Season 1, Episode 6: “The Socratic Method”

Foreman: I thought he liked rationality.

Wilson: He likes puzzles.

H: You think I’m crazy. 

W: Well, yeah. But that’s not the problem.

Season 1, Episode 7: “Fidelity”

W: Oh. That’s what breasts look like.

H: You love everyone. That’s your pathology.

W: *watches House leave longingly”

Cameron: Did he just turn on the TV?

Wilson: He needs to think.

 

W: That’s all! I mean it. 

H: You always do. It’s part of your charm.

W: I love my wife. 

H: You love saying it.

 

Season 1, Episode 12: “Sports Medicine”

H: You thought I couldn’t handle this news?

W: …

H: You talk to her a lot?

W: No. It’s been a long time. Look, if you don’t want me to see her-

H: What is this, eighth grade? I’m fine.

W: It’s fine if you’re upset!

H: No! It’s- I have no right to be upset. You two are friends. You should see her.

Season 1, Episode 14: “Control”

W: Since when do I need the secret code to talk to you?

H: You value our friendship more than your ethical responsibilities?

W: Our friendship is an ethical responsibility.

Note: that asshole chairman figured out he couldn’t threaten House, so he threatened Wilson's job instead to keep House in line. I’m sick?

Season 1, Episode 17: “Role Model”

W: House, I believe you’re a Romantic.

Season 1, Episode 18: “Babes and Bathwater”

Note: Wilson didn’t vote House out. and the chairman was so offended he decided to fire Wilson instead. Wilson fr put his whole career on the line, knowingly, to make sure House could stay. I'm SO SICK.

 

W: I got sacked.

H: Did you make a pass at Cuddy? I told you, she only has thighs for me.

W: …I voted to keep you.

H: Is he gonna sack everyone who votes to keep me around?

W: Yes. Every one of us.

H: …Just you?

W: Yeah.

W: I have no kids. My marriage is all messed up. I only have two things that work for me: This job and this stupid, screwed up friendship. And neither mattered enough to you to give one lousy speech.

H: They matter. If I could do it all again…

W: You’d do the same thing.

H: Nice job protecting me! You saved my ass by sacking Wilson?

Note: House lets Wilson sit in his chair and doesn’t make him move. He makes everyone else move. He doesn’t make Wilson move.

 

Season 1, Episode 19: “Kids”

W: My advice is much more simple: stop being an ass. You always find some tiny little flaw to push people away.

H: Now it’s people? I thought we were talking about applicants.

W: You have a history of this.

Note: When Wilson tells house he’s “going to end up alone”, House just stares at him. i am WELL AWARE they were discussing women, but they were discussing why House always pushes women away. and then Wilson tells him he’s gonna be alone and House just stares at him???? like stares at him like he just said something both crazy and hurtful???? like he thought he would have Wilson in the end????

 

Season 1, Episode 20: “Love Hurts”

H: He peed on me. I’m not into that.

W: It’s apple juice! Now, go apologize.

Note: House immediately does what he’s told and finds the patient he yelled at.

 

W: I just want to make sure no one gets hurt.

Cameron: I’ll be fine. It’s not like I’m going out with Jack the Ripper.

W: Oh, it’s not… it’s not you I’m worried about. It’s been a long time since he opened up to someone, and I… you better be absolutely sure that you want this, because if he opens up again and gets hurt… I don’t think there’s gonna be a next time.

C: You’re worried I’m gonna break his heart?

W: …

H: This is a mistake. I don’t know how to have a casual conversation.

*Wilson rolls eyes*

Note: Why the literal hell would Wilson be at House’s place helping him get ready? Helping him with his tie? i’m sick.

 

Note: “What I am is what you need. I’m damaged.” HELLLLOOOOOO????????? i’m gonna eat my hands

 

Season 1, Episode 21: “Three Stories”

Note: “I’m not busy. But I’m not sure I want him to live.” HELLO IM GONNA JUMP OUT THE WINDOW??????????

Season 1, Episode 22: “Honeymoon”

Note: “Some part of me hopes that he’ll die. I’m just not sure if it’s because I want to be with her, or if it’s because I want her to suffer.” HELLLLOOOOOOO????????? This line just sniped me from behind.

Note: Stacey and I actually have SO MUCH beef. She better watch her back.

Note: “I thought you were too screwed up to love anyone. I was wrong. You just couldn’t love me.” As wack as I think Cameron’s relationship with House is, this line killed me.

Note: The audacity of Stacey to tell House she’s still in love with him and always will be just to tell him she won’t be with him?? Like what is actually wrong with you. Let my boy catch a BREAK.

[bleach-your-panties]

Sincember Event❄️❄️

Rating: Suggestive🍭

You always felt there was something strange about Nishiki.

He’s a year above you, him being a junior and you a sophomore at Kamii University.

The first time you ever saw him was when the pharmacy department hosted an informational seminar for first and second-year students.

The department head wanted to encourage more students to join their department, thus recruiting Nishiki and a few other upperclassmen to give the seminar.

Your class just so happened to be chosen first.

As a biology major, you were more so focused on your dream of becoming a medical doctor more so than a pharmacist.

From your knowledge, it was mainly chemistry majors that were most likely to pursue careers as pharmacists since the profession requires adept chemical application.

Chemistry has never been your best subject and probably never will be.

—-

“So that completes the seminar. If you have any questions, you can direct them to the department chair or see one of us after class. Thank you for your time and attention.”

Nishiki announced to the class just before it was dismissed for the afternoon. He was disconnecting his laptop from the Promethean board when you strolled up to him.

His honey-golden eyes drunk in your frame from behind his glasses and he gave you a light smile.

“Have a question?”

A bit timidly, you nodded your head. “I’d like to learn more about the pharmacy program, if you have the time.”

Nishiki seemed a bit surprised - did his lackluster lecture on his chosen career actually inspire someone? 

“Sure. Meet me at the library in about fifteen minutes.”

—--

On that day, you officially switched your concentration from ‘pre-medicine’ to ‘pre-pharmacy.’

Sometimes you questioned your decision, but Nishiki always made sure to reassure you that you'd made an excellent choice for your future.

When your class schedule for the semester was printed, your eyes almost bulged out your head at how many additional chemistry classes and labs had been added to your course load.

Not gonna lie, the first thought that crossed your mind was to go straight back to the registrar and have her change you back.

That was until you bumped into Nishiki on the way back to your dorm.

“You seem distraught. What's the matter?” He asked genuinely with those citrine eyes full of concern.

“Oh, Nishiki! Sorry, I was just looking over my new schedule. My fucking advisor added all these damn chem classes and I-I just don't know if I can do this.” You sighed heavily.

The wind began whipping heavily around around you both, making your hair rustle and Nishiki stepped forward to shield you with his body.

The large, orange and black scarf wrapped around his neck unraveled before you knew what was happening, its thick warmth now enveloping your own neck. 

Heat radiated throughout your neck and you found yourself deeply inhaling the scent of Nishiki's cologne.

“Thank you, but…”

“It's going to be cold out today. I don't need you getting sick on me. We still have that organic midterm to study for, yeah?”

He titled his head to the side, eyes slanting into small slits as he smiled at you. 

You thought he looked really cute like this.

“Oh, right, right. Your place as usual?” 

“Mhmm.”

—-

The first time that Nishiki brought you over to his house, you were astonished.

He told you that he'd been living alone since his older sister passed away and that he supported himself financially using student loans and his job at Anteiku, the coffee shop that he frequently brought you lattes from.

Funnily enough, you would always see him sipping on a latte or a canned coffee but you rarely ever saw him eat anything when it was just the two of you.

You probably should have exercised more awareness since you do live in a world where humans and ghouls coexist, but never once did it cross your mind that Nishiki might be one.

—-

Tonight was another night where the temperature outside had reached to just a few degrees below freezing.

You'd been with Nishiki all afternoon after classes let out. To study for your next chemistry exam.

Since it was so cold outside and likely to snow, Nishiki asked if you'd like to stay the night and he'd drive you back to campus in the morning.

You agreed, of course.

The fire crackled beside you as you huddled inside a large, thick red blanket. Nishiki was in the kitchen making you both a steaming cup of coffee.

He was taking quite a long time, so you decided to check up on him and see if he needed any help.

“Hey Nish, I-”

Your mouth dropped open at the sight before you.

Nishiki's slender frame was bent over the open refrigerator. The pale orange light from the door made a 45° arc across the linoleum kitchen floor.

“Hmm, something wrong, Y/N?” 

He drawled lazily, lifting his head out of the fridge and turning towards you, a cocky grin on his bloody lips.

Red irises with black sclera.

“Y-you're a…” 

Your voice wavered in fear, making Nishiki tilt his head to the side in that same way that you always found so adorable…

…But right now he looked nothing less than sinister.

Before you realized it, you were running. You knew that it would be fruitless - he's a ghoul, no doubt he'll catch up to you in an instant. 

It took him literally no effort to grab you around the waist and pull your back into his chest, making your bottom collide with his pelvic region.

Is he…is he hard from seeing you cower in fear of him? 

“Shh, calm down. I'm not going to hurt you.” Nishiki whispered right beside your ear.

In your haste, the collar of your sweater had slipped down, revealing your warm s/c flesh to his hungry eyes.

He poked his nose into the juncture between your neck and shoulder, taking a large whiff and then sighing loudly in pleasure. 

“You always smell so damn good.”

“Please, Nishiki…just let me go. I won't tell anyone that I know…”

“So what if you did tell?” He barked out a sarcastic laugh. “Doesn't make me any difference, Y/N."

Without even a grunt, Nishiki scooped you up bridal style and brought you back out to the living room.

He laid you back gently on the blanket and situated himself between your legs.

“Oh? What's the matter, you look a little needy, Y/N?” He regarded you with excruciating detail - examining every inch of your beautiful face.

Your bottom lip quivered just slightly as you felt your panties moisten from the position that you were in - Nishiki staring you down with his kakugan, knees spreading your thighs open for him, and that heavenly scent of cologne on him.

You want him.

“You like that shit, huh? Like my eyes? Or is it the fact that I can easily overpower you and have you trembling underneath me like you are right now?” 

He was hovering over you now, face inches from yours as all you could see was red, literally.

A tongue licked up your neck.

“Don't worry; like I said, you don't have to worry about me eating you. At least…not in that way.” 

----

ʳᵉᵇˡᵒᵍˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ🫶🏽