#things I didn’t bother deleting but wished I did

[amareinmortis]

In my boredom, I redrew a very old piece’s last panel. (lol)

[dakotalun]

"Oops" | Eddie Munson

pairing: Eddie Munson X Fem Reader

summary: Part 1--Eddie "accidentally" sends a tasteful pic to his best friend.

warnings: mutual pining, pet names (sweetheart), strong language, description of naked Eddie

word count: 3.4k

Part 2

a/n: went a little crazy at 3am the other night and wrote this. Part two will be up later this week!! Luv y'all <3

*******NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS*******

Eddie is your best friend of many years, the two of you being inseparable from the moment you met. So when you got a text from him tonight you don’t think much of it, figuring it was just a dumb meme he saw or a random thing from today.

What you didn’t expect to see was a picture of Eddie standing in his bathroom, towel slung over his shoulders with a prominent boner happening.

His hair is wet as if he just got out of the shower and hadn’t bothered to dry it yet. The long dark brown locks stick to his neck and chest in a way that can only be described as godly. The tattoos on his skin are glistening but covered by the towel around his neck and as you move your eyes downward the path of hair that leads to his dick is delicious.

And talking about his dick it is, mag-fucking-nificent! The way that it hangs there, the tip swollen and red, leaking the smallest bit of precum. It has your mouth watering.

You nearly choked on your own spit when you saw it. Never in a million years did you think that Eddie would be sending you of all people nudes. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t wonder what he was packing but you never really indulged in those thoughts, until now. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the screen, memorizing every little detail in the photo.

Eddie sends another text but you’re too distracted to see what it is. Then a stream of texts start flooding in from him.

‘SHIT!’

‘I DID NOT NMEAN TO SNED YIU THAT!’

‘IGNORE THE PICTUREA’

‘HOW THE HELL DO I DELETE THE PIC?!?!?!’

‘GOD I AM SOSOSOSOSOSOSSOO SOORRY!!’

You giggle at his frantic typing, noting all the typos. Curiosity gets the better of you and you scroll up a little to see what he had said after he sent the picture. You’re eyes go wide at the words displayed on your screen.

‘Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you. Jerked off twice while in the shower and I’m still hard. Wish you were here with me right now ;)’

You had no clue who this was really meant for but if it was meant for you you would 100 percent be on your way to him right now. The bottom half of the picture stares back at you as your eyes acan over the text again and again. You can’t deny the small hint of wetness that you feel on your underwear while looking at the two.

Twice? He came twice and is still hard. Whoever he thought about must be really hot if he can go 3 rounds without breaking a sweat. Could he go more?

Your thoughts were interrupted by your phone receiving a call, from none other than Eddie himself. You sit up in bed and pull your knees towards you as you answer his call.

“Sweetheart I am so so so sorry I sent you that. It was clearly meant for someone else. If I had known it was your contact that I was on I would have never sent that at all. I want you to know that I don’t go around sending nudes to everyone or anything, I’m not a slut I was just-”

“Eddie it’s fine. No need to apologize. I figured it wasn’t meant for me anyways.” It pains you a little at the thought that someone else was supposed to receive that message from your best friend.

“I’m still sorry. Is there any way I can make it up to you?” His voice sounds smooth like spreading butter onto fresh pancakes.

“Hmm,” You fake thinking about what you want even though you know exactly what it is you want, “You’ve gotta tell me who that text was really meant for.” Silence. For a whole minute there is just silence on Eddie’s end, you’d think he was dead if it weren’t for the fast pace of his breathing.

“Sweetheart,” The nickname is not helping the situation you have going on right now, “You don’t mean that. Can’t I just take you to breakfast or buy you a new outfit?”

“Nope.” You respond popping the ‘p’ as you say it. “Either tell me who it was meant for or I send it to the groupchat.” You were bluffing. You couldn’t let the others see him like that, that was for your eyes only. Not that anyone needed to know that.

“You wouldn’t dare,” His voice turned deep and threatening.

“Try. Me.” You challenge back.

Eddie groans, “Fine. You win,” A smile spreads across your face, “It was meant for Callie. This girl in my chem class, we’ve been talking for a little bit.”

You’re a mix of emotions right now; happy that Eddie found someone he’s interested in and took his shot, confused because he never told you about it, sad because you thought he trusted you with things like that, and slightly jealous because you want to be the one Eddie sent nudes to, purposefully.

“Sweetheart? You still there?” You completely forget that you’re still on the phone with Eddie until he says something.

“Uh yeah yeah I’m here. I’m um happy for you Ed. Glad you found someone. Look I gotta go to sleep, big test tomorrow, talk later. Bye.” You hang up before he can say anything else. 

Why did you feel this way about all this? You shouldn’t be thinking of Eddie in this way, he was your best friend. Best friends don’t think about going down on each other, or the way it would feel to have his cock inside you, or the moans he would release when he finally cums in you.

You shake it off and lay back down, setting your phone on your nightstand to charge. You try for half an hour to fall asleep but your mind can’t stop thinking about that damn picture. So you unlock your phone and go back to your messages with Eddie, looking to see if he deleted the picture or not. And to your luck it was the latter, the picture and text below still there for your viewing pleasure.

You’re still horny from the initial thought of him so it doesn’t take long for your hand to wander under your shorts and underwear to your clit. The thought that your fingers were his and the way he would whisper in your ear egging you on to finish.

The images of him jerking himself off in the shower flood you, his hand on the cold tiles, water hitting his back as he fists his cock, rubbing it slowly at first but becoming impatient and going faster until he cums all over the wall and his hand.

The image of his face when he does and the moans that would leave his mouth is what throws you over the edge yourself. Wishing it were him between your legs pulling it from you not your own fingers. Finally your body is tired enough to let you go to sleep, dreaming of Eddie once more.

---

You’re sitting with Eddie and the rest of Hellfire at lunch a week later. Neither of you have talked about what happened that night, both too embarrassed to say anything.

Things were normal though, Eddie would pick you up and drop you off to and from school. You’d talk on the phone every night about whatever happened that day that the other wasn’t there for. You liked the thought that the text didn’t hinder your friendship but you can’t help but be a little jealous about Eddie fucking someone else. It’s not like you were expecting him to confess his hidden undying love for you the next day but the realization that Eddie really did send you that accidentally; hurt.

The freshman are talking about some video game coming out when Eddie lean over to you.

“Whatcha’ thinking about?” There’s a smile on his face, one that you always loved seeing.

“Nothing,” You go back to eating your fruit.

“Alrighty then. Hey I was wondering what time you wanted to come over tonight?”

Your eyes grow wide, mind going back to the text, “Why?”

“Um it’s Wednesday. Horror movie marathon night, remember?” His head cocks to the side a little, his hair falling into his face. It reminds you of a dog questioning what it’s owner has in their hand.

“Oh right yeah. Um I don’t know if I can make it tonight.” That was a lie, you had nothing going on. But being in the trailer alone with Eddie after knowing what he looks like naked is not what you need right now.

“Awe come on! I rented Scream, Saw, and Halloween for tonight. You can’t make me watch them all alone,” He lowers his voice and leans closer, “What if I need protection from the bad guys?” His big doe eyes large and pleading with you.

You roll your eyes and push his face away from you, “Ugh fine. I’ll be there, how’s 8?”

“Perfect! I’ll order the pizzas, do you think you could make those amazing cookies for us?”

“You mean for you?”

“No. I mean for us, I would never eat all the cookies myself.”

“You did like 3 weeks ago! There were 30 cookies there and I had none of them.” You stare at him as he thinks back to then.

“Nope don’t remember which means it didn’t happen. So will you?” There are those puppy dog eyes again.

“Whatever but I swear if you eat all of them again I’ll castrate you.”

Eddie’s hands fly to his groin, protecting it from your threat. “Ouch, sweetheart. Didn’t know you hated my dick that much.”

I don’t. Just hate that it’s not mine. You thought, but you just rolled your eyes and continued on eating lunch until the bell rang.

---

Eddie rushed around his room looking for his favorite shirt when you showed up for movie night. You let yourself in, per usual and set the cookies down on the coffee table before heading to Eddie’s room. He was squating in front of his closet when you come in, you don’t announce yourself just stand there staring at his back.

He got a few new tattoos since last summer, two of which on his back. A skull and crossbones along with a knife wrapped in barbed wire. You haven’t seen them in person yet, it still being too cold to sit out in the sun. But looking at them now was a pleasure, the detail popping out as his muscles flex.

Eddie huffs and stands, defeated about not finding the shirt he wanted. He turns around and finds you standing in his doorway.

“Jesus! Why didn’t you say you were here?” His hand is over his heart as he catches his breath from the unintentional jump scare.

“I texted you like 20 minutes ago that I was on my way. Figured you knew I’d be here soon,” You say as you enter his room fully to sit on his bed.

“I did not see the text, I was in the shower,” The mention of this brought back memories of the photo, and what you did whilst looking at it, “Anyways pizza should be here soon and I’ve got beers and soda in the fridge.”

Eddie walks around you to his dresser, grabbing a random shirt and throwing it on. You’re sad at the loss of his bare skin but quickly shake the thought away. You get up from his bed and head to his living room, Eddie following in toe.

“So what are we watching first? I’ve seen Scream a few times but the other two I haven’t seen,” Eddie remarks as he grabs two beers from the fridge, opening them before handing you one.

You mumble a thanks before taking a sip, the bitter liquid coating your tastebuds. “I’ve seen Scream and Saw but not Halloween. Heard good things about it though, at least that’s what Robin said, Steve had other opinions.”

“Lemme guess pretty boy hated it and wished he never saw it?” Eddie laughs as he sets up Halloween on the tv.

“Yeah pretty much,” You laugh along. The thought of your friend sitting there watching the movie curled up in a blanket next to Robin bringing a smile to your face.

Eddie finishes setting up the movie and walks back the kitchen. He grabs a bag of chips and some dip before returning to your side on the couch. He opens the chips and pops one in his mouth, crunching it loudly.

You smile at the normalcy of everything right now, it’s as if nothing ever happened between the two of you. Which if we’re being honest nothing really did happen, Eddie just sent you a nude on accident. It’s not like you kissed or anything. Not that you’d hate it if you did.

You snack on the chips and dip with him while waiting for the pizza to show up, never starting the movie without it. The two of you talk about nothing in particular while you sit there. Eddie tells you about the upcoming DnD campaign he’s been working on.

His eyes lighting up and hands flying around erratically as he explains what he planned, the animation in his character brings an even bigger smile to your face.

Just as Eddie concludes his explanation, inviting you to come sit in and watch it at the end, the doorbell rings notifying the both of you that the pizza was here and it was now time for movie night to begin.

Eddie pays the guy and happily walks over to the couch and sets the food on the table in front of the two of you, he can’t even wait til the movie starts playing to begin eating. You laugh at him as he opens and closes his mouth quickly trying to cool the hot pizza in his mouth, you just hit play and start watching the movie.

The pizza is gone, same with half the bag of chips and the cookies. Eddie actually let you eat  a few of them before he scarfed down the others. You’re nearing the end of Scream, the third and final movie of the night when you look at your phone for the time. 12:25 stares back at you, you groan knowing that your parents are going to kill you for coming home so late on a school night.

Eddie hears you and turns to see why you made that noise. You just wave him off and go back to watching the movie, watching as Skeet Ulrich gets shot for the final time in the head. A few minutes later the credits roll and Eddie turns off the tv, letting the trailer fade into silence.

“Wanna tell me what that groaning was about?” Eddie asks turning to face you completely.

“Nothing, just didn’t realize that it had gotten so late. Parents are gonna kill me if I go home at this hour.”

“So just stay here,” He says with no hesitation, “You still have a few clothes here after last movie night. They’re just siting in my drawer.”

You think about it for a minute. You and Eddie have had sleepovers in the past, nothing special about them, just two people sharing a bed, occasionally cuddling because of the small size of it. But now the thought of it made you nervous, having him so close to you, so near yet not being able to touch him. It killed you, but it’s better than going back home right now and having your mom and dad rip you a new one.

“Alright, I’m gonna need to shower though. Coach had us run the mile today at practice and I still feel disgusting.”

“Yeah no problem, you go ahead and shower, I’ll clean up here.” He stands and starts clearing the trash from the table. You get up too and head into his bathroom, but no matter how hot the water is or how long you stand under it you can't get the thought of the picture and the words under it out of your mind.

He was right here, jerking off to the thought of someone. You scold yourself for thinking about him like that, again. But you couldn’t help it.

Recently you’ve thought about him more and more; his smile, the dimples that show when he’s really happy, how animatedly he talks, the way his hair is always unkempt but still looks so damn soft. You thought about him in ways you never did before seeing that picture; his arms, his muscles, his hands, his rings. Everything about him turned you on and you needed it to go away.

Eddie finished up cleaning and sat down on his bed, beer in hand while he took out his metal lunchbox for a joint. You walk into his room, towel wrapped around yourself, hair dripping wet from the shower. He stops his actions to just stare at you, the same way you did earlier that night.

“Uh could I borrow some clothes? I don’t have anything to sleep in,” You say wrapping your arms under your boobs, pushing them up ever so slightly.

Eddie clears his throat, “Yeah, sure.” He gets up and walks over to his dresser, rummaging through it to look for something you can wear tonight. He pulls out a pair on your underwear that you “left” there a while back and one of his Hellfire shirts. You denied his offer of some pants, saying they would be way to big on you and you’d rather just sleep in the shirt.

Eddie’s mind went straight to the gutter at that thought, you sleeping next to him, in just his Hellfire shirt and a pair of underwear he stole from you. His dick was growing hard just thinking about it. He quickly got back to looking for his joint and lighting it upon it’s appearance. He took a few hits while you changed in the bathroom, his mind slowly fogging over.

You return, hair still slightly wet with the towel in your hand. You toss it into his hamper before laying on his bed, grabbing his beer and taking a sip. You lay back and close your eyes, letting the serenity of this moment wash over you. Eddie offers you a hit but you decline, being that you don’t ever mix weed and booze together.

He finishes the joint while you finish his beer. The two of you just sitting there with the light sound of whatever record Eddie has playing. Your thoughts are quiet for the most part, just soaking in the time with your best friend, until you think of something. A question you’ve been meaning to ask for a little bit.

“Eddie?”

“Hmm?” He responds head leaning back onto the wall where a headboard should be.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, hit me.” You reach your hand out and hit him in the thigh.

“Ouch! Not literally, I meant with the question, sweetheart.”

“I know,” You giggle.

“Brat,” He mumbles back.

“Anyways, I was gonna ask -and you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to it’s just something I’ve been thinking about- but did you really not know it was me you were sending that picture to?” The words lay heavy on your tongue as you say them aloud. You’ve been thinking about this for a while, it’s hard not to.

How did he not know it was you he was texting, your name was right there at the top of the screen. And if he was sending it to someone else how could he not double-check to make sure he wasn’t sending it to someone like Wayne or Robin.

He’s quiet for a moment, thinking about the best way to tell you that, yes he did know it was you he was sending it to. And yes he knew it was stupid but he wanted to try something to see if you felt the same way about him that he does you. Eddie’s loved you for about a year and a half now, never saying anything to anyone in fear of running your friendship.

But that night he was watching a show and one of the characters did this thing where they pretended to send a text to someone “they didn’t mean to”, to see how they’d respond. He thought that maybe this was an easy way of figuring out how you felt about him. But when you didn’t respond to his photo or texts he got scared and called you. Needing to clarify what he sent, and why.

Eddie Taglist: @ali-r3n @dixontardis

[canthelpit0]

Silent

Pairing: Matt x reader

Wordcount: 1.8k +

Summary: you’ve always quietly watched the triplets, silently wishing you could be a part of a group like them. Until you and Matt talk for the first time…

Warnings: selective mutism, anxiety, crying, angst, praise, no use of y/n, no oc

(Disclaimer: I’m not mute in any way. This was a request from an anon that I accidentally deleted. Hope you like it ! Requests are open)

I developed selective mutism pretty early on. My mom says that I didn’t talk even back in kindergarten.

But it’s been years now.

I can talk, and I can’t shut the fuck up for the life of me. I talk a lot, even have full conversations with myself.

Just not at school, or around new people. God, especially not in school.

It’s not like I want to be the ‘ weird’ mute kid. I would love to talk and make friends, I just physically can’t open my mouth and talk.

It even took months for me to utter simple words to my therapist, tho by this point I’ve known her for years and I’m pretty comfortable.

There are these triplets in my grade. We’ve always gone to the same school, but I don’t think they ever noticed me.

Well the first time I noticed them was in first grade, because there were three of them. Of corse my six year old self didn’t understand the concept of multiples back then, and I really wanted to ask, and talk to them. I really thought they were cool.

The first time I interacted with any of them tho was when I was in fourth grade and Nick had asked to use my dark green pencil since he only had light green and needed both dark and light.

Back in fourth grade I wasn’t just selectively mute, but also really shy. So I’d just looked down and stared at the desk giving him a small nod.

In freshmen year I shared a class with Nick again, he asked me for a pen, wich I gave to him.

Despite not having talked to him once in my entire life, he remembered my name. Wich isn’t too shocking since we’ve always been around each other, I was just kinda in the shadows.

He actually gave me that pen back. Most other people would’ve forgotten and just taken it, but Nick didn’t and I appreciated that.

I only ever interacted with Nick those two times. despite sharing a few classes with both Chris and Matt over the years, I’ve probably never even held eye contact with either of them.

I’ve been watching everyone.

Bullying isn’t really a thing. Sure there were some hurtful comments by jocks here and there but it really wasn’t as bad as in the movies.

Besides I think most people forget i even exist so they don’t even bother bullying me.

I’ve had my eye on Matt for a while. Not in a weird way. But Matt seems to pretty obviously have anxiety too. I don’t know if he’s open about it, I’m not in his friend circle.

But every time I’m feeling overwhelmed and we’re in the same room, I unconsciously glance at him to see if he feels the same or if I’m just going crazy.

Chris seems to be the loudest and most extroverted one. And while yes, Nick seems pretty extroverted too, Chris seems more… random? Bold?

I sulk in the back of the class my lips pulled into a tight line as I try to get myself together.

There is literally no reason for me to be feeling like this. Honestly no one has tried to talk to me today, nothing happened, I just feel so overwhelmed.

I raise my hand just slightly. I make eye contact with the teacher. Mrs. Evans. I literally love her, she’s so kind.

Her son is apparently mute too.

When I was diagnosed with selective mutism they thought it’d be a great idea to make me learn sign language just in case, and that’s just what I did.

Since Mrs. Evans son is mute, her son, as well as her and her husband also learned sign language.

So whenever I needed something I could sign to her. Not that I wouldn’t be too embarrassed too.

Our eyes lock. Everyone was working on some paper I should also be doing, but I’m too busy hyperventilating.

I let my hand drop on my desk and glance at the door quietly asking if I can go to the nurses office since I was too tired and ashamed to sign it to her.

She gives me a pitying smile but nods. I hate pity, but then again that’s better than getting told im faking.

I look around the class of students. I get up, as quiet as I can. I pack up my little stuff and quietly walk to the front of the class. I nod in appreciation and walk outside.

I stare at the ground while I walk down the hallway. I sigh.

I feel my eyes start to water and I bite the inside of my cheek.

Honestly I should probably go to the nurses office to get checked out, just so I can leave. But I don’t think I can handle communicating with another human.

I feel like I’m about to break down. I continue to walk down the hallway clutching the straps of my bag harshly.

I consider if driving home even is a good idea seeing as I’m about to have a mental breakdown. Or-

Suddenly I bump into someone.

I close my eyes trying not to cry right then. I don’t know who I bumped into but I want to apologize, but I know that I can’t, and since I don’t know who I bumped into I don’t know if it’s someone who’ll be mean about it or-

I’m taken off guard by a gentle brush to my upper arm.

“You’re good, it’s okay” I hear a soft voice say. I can feel my lip quivering, I feel like if I open my eyes the tears brimming at my waterline will actually fall.

“can you open your eyes?” It sounds more like a question, and that voice sounds painfully familiar but I can’t quite place it.

I want to tell him that I can’t, that I’ll cry if I do and I’ll feel even more embarrassed. But my curiosity takes over me.

So I slightly blink open my eyes. I don’t open my eyes fully, just enough to see the person through my tears.

It’s Matt, looking down at me all concerned.

I blink my eyes open. at the sight I watch his expression relax just slightly.

He himself looks overwhelmed, and honestly I don’t know if it’s because of how I’m acting, or if he had a shitty day himself.

“You okay?” He sighs slightly. I watch as he licks his lips and swallows thickly.

I take in another deep breath trying to calm down. I nod just slightly, but while I do the tears in my eyes finally spill.

I feel my hot tears run down my face. Matt’s eyes immediately widen and his mouth opens slightly like he thinks it’s his fault.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, no please don’t cry.” He holds up his hands in front of my face as if he wanted to wipe my tears away but was holding himself back because he didn’t know my boundaries.

He looked miserable, like he was about to cry himself. And I just know that something this wouldn’t have him emotional like this on a normal day. At least I don’t think it would. But he seemed to be overwhelmed as well.

I scrunch my nose slightly sniffling in response. I glance back up at him and the sorrow in his eyes makes me want to sink into myself. I breathe out shakily.

Before I know it I’m bringing my hands up to my face and covering it. I tilt my head forward trying to stop crying, because crying in the school halls is just pathetic.

“I’m sorry. Fuck- can I touch you?” I hear his frantic voice. I appreciate that he asked first. I want a hug, but then again I don’t know Matt. But he just seems so genuine.

I overthink not responding to his question. My thoughts spiral at the sound of the sweet nothings and apologies leaving his mouth, only being back round noise.

Matt seems to notice that I’m starting to spiral. I feel his hand tenderly touch my wrist. I flinch slightly, and as soon as I do I feel him retract his hand.

Everybody deals with anxiety differently, some people like to be physically grounded others liked to be comforted some other way and I just knew that Matt was trying to figure out what to do without overstepping.

I’d tell him that it’s okay, or that he can hug me, but I literally can’t speak and I feel too embarrassed to let him see my teary face.

“I’m sorry, I’m-“ I hear Matt let out a breath. I know an anxiety breath when I hear one, he is panicking.

I decide to bite the bullet, what’s the worst that can happen. I look up slightly and peak through my fingers.

His hands are up and frozen. He looks almost frantic, Matt looks like the only way he knows how to ground me is by hugging me or something, but he seems unsure if that’s okay.

Despite myself I let out a little nod. Matt lets out another breath but this time he actually touches me, and I don’t flinch.

He holds my wrist and gently pulls my hands off of my face.

I let out a shaky sigh. I can’t help it when I let my head fall forward.

“It’s okay.” He says sweetly under his breath. He puts his hand under my chin as he picks my face up. Our eyes lock. I see the way Matt is also crying, tears running down his face too and I relax just a little.

He never seemed like the type to make fun of someone for crying, but especially not now.

“You wanna go to my car?” He says softly, not in a way where he is forcing me to do anything, but rather offering.

And honestly as upset as i am I have to weigh my options. Would I rather cry in the school hallways or in Matt’s car?

The best option would be to go to the bathroom, but Matt wouldn’t be able to come with, and honestly I would feel too bad leaving him alone at this point.

So I nod.

I feel Matt’s arm go around my shoulders as he hugs me for a moment. He turns me, and starts walking in a way where his arm is still around my shoulder keeping me close to him.

We walk out to the parking lot. I watch as Matt unlocks the car and opens the door for me to enter.

And by this point, if I go out this way so be it…

Before i can even register Matt is also getting into the backseat next to me.

We just look at each other for a moment. He breathes out another anxiety sigh.

“You want a hug?” And with that I don’t really know if he’s asking for me, or to comfort himself. But regardless I nod.

I feel his arms come around me and I sink into the feeling of his hug.

I’m uncertain if by tomorrow he’ll act like this all never happened, or if he’ll try to get to know me, because I’ve been wanting to know him for a while and I would more then gladly let him.

Masterlist

A/n: I know this is really short and I’ve been uploading a lot of angst recently. But I’ve been feeling sad, and every time I do write smut it’s for Kinktober. Soon you’ll get smut tho. Also this ended up a lot like crybaby. <3

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf , @sturnsmaeve , @sturnstvr , @lucianastrun , @jnkvivi , @jamiesturniolo , @chr1sgirl4life

[gilverrwrites]

Against The Wall (/Bathroom Door)

Pairing: Dean Winchester/AFAB! Reader

Feminine pronouns used.

Plot: Dean and the reader are unable to keep their hands off each other during dinner. They sneak off together for a 'quickie' in the restroom.

Rating: M/18+

This is a re-written/edited fic I wrote and posted on a now deleted tumblr. If I recall correctly, it was originally a request for 'against the wall' sex.

Please remember: to be kind to yourself.

Content: Swearing, (really cheesy) flirting, established romantic/sexual relationship, nipple play, vaginal fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, teasing, dirty talk, semi-public, clothed sex, size difference, biting, (non-sexual) peeing.

Excerpt: "Give me rough and ready any day.”  “Ohhh, don’t worry Darlin’...” Dean smirked, the hand on your thigh slipped to cup you through your jeans as he almost closed the gap between you, his lips less than an inch away. “I intend to.”

“Why are we staying here? Why didn’t we check in to that place down the road?” You groaned. You couldn’t help but feel like a sore thumb, as you needlessly examined the well-dressed wait staff and their high society patrons. If the side eyes, and tight smiles they shot back at you were anything to go by, they also thought your table stood out.

Attempting to avert your gaze, you glanced over the menu and had to stifle a gasp. Tired and sore from the hunt, you’d collectively decided that it would be faster and easier to just dine at the hotel’s restaurant, but $37 for a burger, FRIES NOT INCLUDED! Daylight robbery! In hindsight, you wished you’d bothered to walk the extra 10 minutes to the nearest greasyspoon, just on principle. Besides, the motel down the road was next door to a pizza joint, double whammy. “It would have been a helluva lot cheaper.”

“Because it was full up. Besides, I thought you’d appreciate somewhere a little more sophisticated.” Dean replied. If the grin on his face, and the hand on your thigh was anything to go by, he didn’t really care where he was, he was just happy for the food and the company. And to be done with the ghouls you’d been hunting down all week. He winked at you as he leaned in and snatched the menu from you, and you giggled when his brows shot up. Likely also outraged at the price of a burger, WITHOUT FRIES.

“Deano, sophisticated; we, are, not.” You stated as matter-of-factly as you could, trying to ignore his hand as it inched higher and higher up your leg.

“Speak for yourself Sweetheart.” He quipped, locking his eyes with yours and wiggling his eyebrows, “I’ve always had a taste for the finer things in life.”

“HA.” You deadpanned, but he didn’t budge. You leaned in closer, lowering your voice to a purr. “Well, not me. Give me rough and ready any day.”

“Ohhh, don’t worry Darlin’...” Dean smirked, the hand on your thigh slipped to cup you through your jeans as he almost closed the gap between you, his lips less than an inch away. “I intend to.”

You would have leaned in to kiss him, had the sound of Sam clearing his throat, signifying his discomfort, not distracted you both. Embarrassed at having forgotten his presence you both leaned back in your chairs. Dean promptly placed both his hands on the table and shot Sam a very unserious thrown.

“Sorry, Sam.” You extended a brief apology and the three of you sat in awkward silence until someone came to take your drink orders.

“I’m going to the ladies’ room.” You announced shortly after the waiter had left. “10 bucks says this place has attendants.” You joked as you stand from the table and walk away.

“Wait up, I gotta take a leak too!” Dean declared. “If they come back for food, just order for his. No green shit.” He instructed his brother before wrapping an arm over your shoulder and following very, very close behind you. You really did need to pee, but if Dean had something else in mind, you wouldn’t object.

Together you manoeuvred your way through the labyrinth of busy tables and ‘atmospherically’ dim hallways until you found a vestibule of doors labelled ‘la toilettes’.

Dean held you at arms-length as he poked his head through one and looked around. From what you could see, it seemed to be a single occupancy bathroom. “Score!” Dean turned to face you as he backed the rest of his body into ‘la toilette’, pulling you in with him. “Plus, no attendant, you owe me 10 bucks.”

The moment you heard the lock click behind you he pounced, arms either side of you, fingers against your scalp, caging you between his firm chest and the door. Your lips crashed together; a shiver ran up your spine as he groaned into your mouth. It wasn’t a soft kiss, it was harsh, demanding, just how you liked it. You snaked your hand under his shirt and ghosted your fingers up until they rested on his chest, there you could feel his heart beating a mile a minute.

Briefly, you felt high on the effect you had on him. The moment abruptly ended when he snatched your waist, twisting you around, and pushing you face first against the cold wood.

In this new position, you could feel the hardness of his cock pressing against your ass, instinctively you reached an arm back to rub against him.

“F-fuck.” Dean spluttered, grinding into your open palm. “You’re so sexy.”

“You’re not too bad yourself.” You replied, “But can we get a move on please.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” He rasped, before sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin of your shoulder. Strong hands begin roaming your body. One hand skirts along the curves of your upper body before gliding back up, beneath your shirt, under your bra and begins squeezing at your breast. His calloused fingers pinch at your sensitive nipple, rolling it between the tips of his fingers.

His bite softens, and his tongue flicks against the tender skin before he begins to ghost his lips over your neck, kissing, licking, sucking, marking. Meanwhile, his other hand deftly works on your belt, whipping it open in no time, he nabs the hem of your jeans and yanks down, forcing them down to your knees, underwear following soon after.

You sucked in a breath and arched your back against him when you felt a finger begin running against your slit. A second finger quickly joined, and you withered at the feel of his coarse digits splitting your lips open. The heel of his palm pressed against your clit, sending a shockwave through your body, two fingers gently prodded at your entrance, but he didn’t push in straight away.

Needlessly you rocked against his hand, hoping to garner some friction against your clit, trying to sink yourself onto his fingers, but you just couldn’t quite hit the right spot.

“Dean stop!” You whined. “I need you.”

“Need me?” He chuckled, his hot breath tickling the back of your neck. You knew he had a shit-eating grin on his face, and he was lucky you were too needy to care. “Need me to what?”

“Need you inside me.” You whispered back to him, cheeks ablaze. “Need you to fuck me.”

You felt your hole slowly spread open as his fingers inched in, stretching you around them, but no sooner had it started when he halted again.

“Dean, please!” You begged, and seemingly that was exactly what he needed to hear.

Within seconds his long fingers were buried inside you. Leaving no time to adjust he started pumping in and out, scissoring your insides, while the heel of his hand massaged your sweet spot, both actions sending an unbearable pressure through your body.

It wasn’t long before he slid in a third, and you were seeing stars, panting and rutting as a tight knot surged in your core, your climax was fast approaching, tittering on the edge when Dean abruptly pulled himself from you.

An exasperated cry leaves your lips as you attempt to reach for him, to pull him back but you’re barely able to brush your fingers against his arm. Accepting failure, you spin around to face him, ready to pout at him, to demand an explanation but before you open your mouth his hands are cupping your thighs. He lifts you off your feet, forcing your arched back against the door once again. With some shuffling he managed to bring your knees up, hooking your ankles over his shoulders, his face embedded in your concealed cleavage.

“Hold still.” He instructs, balancing your weight between one hand and the door, as he makes quick work of his belt, jeans, and boxers. You bite your lip, repressing any instinct to wither or jerk as his cock springs free.

“Ready?” He asks, his half-lidded, lusty green eyes gaze up at you as he positions himself at your entrance.

“Ready, and very, very eagerly waiting.” You confirm.

You suck in a breath as he enters you all at once, relaxing his grip on your body slightly so you sink down, taking every single inch of his shaft.

“Fuck.” He shudders against your body, his eyes rolling back already. His voice to low and guttural. “You feel so good. So fucking wet.”

Hands gripped tight against the wall for support, ankles firmly angled against his shoulders, you roll your body, grinding your pussy up and down his cock. His fingers dig tight into your thighs, surely leaving bruises as he savours the feeling.

“Fuck me, Dean.” You plead, rocking on his dick once more. “Need you to fuck me.”

“How could I say no to that.” He groans, adjusting his grip on you, slipping his hands up until they’re wrapped tight around the back of your knees. He slowly leans back, sliding his cock out until only the tip remains inside, before brutally slamming back in. It doesn’t take long for him to find his pace, slow, hard, and so fucking deep.

If he registers the creak of the old wood supporting your back, he clearly didn’t care. Neither of you had really made an effort to disguise what you were doing, why start now?

You were soon twitching at the feel of each thrust, murmuring his name. You didn’t expect to last long after he’d brought you so close once already, and you were right. He rebuilt that tension almost instantly, you felt dizzy, hot and wet. Barely able to feel anything but the throbbing, burning heat between your legs. With one last strangled moan, you tightened around him as you reached your climax.

Dean soon followed behind, the feel of your cunt tightening around his dick setting him off. His muscles clenched around your body, and his pace slowed as he released inside you, grunting with each spurt.

Flushed and panting you both remained in your positions as you came back down. Cum began to seep out of you as Dean softens.

“That was….” Dean pursed his lips as he searched for the right word. A smile spreads across his lips as he seemingly finds it. “That was, awesome.”

“That was awesome.” You reiterated as you began lowering your body. Dean's firm hands steadied your feet return to the floor. He reached down to pull your jeans up for you, but you stopped him, shooing his hands away.

“I really do need to pee!” You answered his puzzled look as you waddled over to the toilet.

“Right!” He laughed, as he pulled up his own trousers. “Plus, you should always pee after sex, right?”

You nodded affirmatively as you did your business. There was something weirdly intimate actually urinating in front of your boyfriend without shame. You really did have nothing to hide, he knew every gross detail.

“We should head back out there.” You said as you finished up. Readjusting your clothes and washing your hands. “Sam will probably think we fell in or something.”

“Nah, he may look it, but he's not that dumb.” Dean joked. “He better have ordered something good, I need more than rabbit food after that.”

“Agreed! Oh, and Dean?”

“Yeah, babe?” He answered as he drapes his arm over you.

You press your head into his shoulder, looking up at him through your lashes. “Round two after dinner?”

“If I ever say no to that, I want you to shoot me.”

[skalfy]

A Reputation for Good Taste

Misa x Reader, ~3.5k words, part 2/?

Part 1 here

Another part! Again, deeply unproofread, so apologies for any errors.

“I’m sorry, what??” Your friend made a show of rolling over to look directly at you where you lay, bundled in her bed. “You’re telling me that Alma cheated on you, then you drove her mistress home and somehow ended up seducing her into giving you free tickets to a football match? Actually, I’m not surprised about the Alma thing, sorry, but the rest is beyond me.”

“Maya!” You blushed hard. “None of that is what I said! Well, except for the Alma thing. I did not seduce María, and please don’t call her Alma’s mistress. All I did was drive her home and probably make her uncomfortable by crying about how I’m a bad aunt. She definitely only offered the tickets because she feels bad that my girlfriend cheated on me with her. It was so obvious that she thought she needed to do something to apologise.”

“If all she felt was guilty about Alma I hardly think she would go to the lengths she did, but out of courtesy to your broken heart,” she fixed you with a look, “I won’t argue about this right now.”

“Thank you, Maya.” You mumbled, then, “I don’t even know if my heart is broken. I’m angry at Alma for doing something so stupid to both of us, but it’s really been getting worse for a while, hasn’t it?”

“Oh honey, it has, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.” She lifted the covers between you. “Now come here and let me cuddle you.”

You rolled over and let her pull you against her chest, relaxing into the comfort of your friend’s arms.

“I think my heart broke a while ago, but I really wish we would talked instead of this.” She just squeezed you tighter and you drifted to sleep.

--

You awoke the next morning alone in Maya’s bed, the sounds of her in the kitchen with Marc, her boyfriend, faintly audible from through the closed door. Your first thought was about Alma, and whether she had bothered to say anything to you since you left the flat. You quickly found your phone and unlocked it, opening the messages app. At the top there was an unread message, but it wasn’t from Alma. You tapped it open anyway.

María: Hi, good morning! I hope you are feeling okay and that your friend is taking care of you. I talked to the club and the tickets will be no problem and no cost. I’ll give you the details later :)

María: Do you have a jersey for the game?

Maria: It’s El Clásico, you have to wear one.

You felt a blush rise as you read the first message. It was sweet, but you were also a little embarrassed to think that María knew you needed taking care of. You quickly typed out a reply.

Me: Thank you so much, you have saved my aunt reputation and Luisa’s trip! And I am okay, thank you for asking. Between my old friend and a certain new friend who has gone out of her way to do me a big favor I’m feeling better.

You wrote and deleted the last line several times before hitting send, unsure how María would take it. You didn’t have to wait long to find out, the little dots that showed she was typing popped up after just a few seconds.

María: I think your new friend would be very glad to hear that, and glad to hear she is your friend, even if the circumstances you met in were not ideal.

María: You didn’t answer my question, do you have a jersey?

There was no resisting the grin that spread on your face as you read her message.

Me: Luisa definitely has a jersey, I got her one for Christmas.

María: I didn’t ask if Luisa had one, I asked if you did ;)

Me: Hmm, I think I have an old Barça one lying around somewhere.

You figured if she worked for worked for Real Madrid she must have a healthy animosity for the rival club, and it wouldn’t hurt to have a little fun about it.

María: We will discuss that later, but I might let it slide if it’s an Alexia kit. Sounds like you are in need of something to wear on Saturday. Green or white?

Me: Green?

María: Yes, it will bring out your eyes. Good choice!

María: Meet me for coffee? I will give you the jersey. Before you ask, it doesn’t cost me, I promise :)

Your head was spinning, but somehow you didn’t really mind. You weren’t about to turn down the offer for coffee, if for no other reason than to buy María acoffee as a thank you.

Me: I’d love to. Let me know when and where, I am off work today so anytime works.

She sent a link to a cute looking coffee shop and said to meet her there at 3 before signing off to get back to some work. You were still giving your phone a bewildered smile when Maya opened the door to her room to check in on you.

“My god, please don’t tell me Alma has sent you some ridiculous make up text that has you falling back under her spell!” You looked up at her words, startled and confused.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the lovesick smile you were just giving your phone when I walked in.” You scoffed in response to Maya’s words, but still felt a sudden urge to keep your conversation with María to yourself until you had a better idea of what was going on.

“I’m just smiling at the death march sightseeing tour mum has the family on today. I was planning to meet up with them, but the play by play is equal parts funny and frightening.” It wasn’t really a lie, you knew your mother well enough to know that your prediction was probably true, and you really were going to meet up with them. It just wasn’t exactly what had you smiling, or the afternoon plan you were most looking forward to.

Maya looked like she might say something more, but a particularly loud clang from the kitchen had her hurrying quickly back out. Alone again, you decided it was long time to get yourself ready for the day.

--

Dressed and showered, you caught Maya and Marc as both were headed out the door to work. Maya had instructed you to be back for dinner with the two of them, but otherwise you had free reign and your spare key. Sipping the cup of coffee one of them had left on the counter for you, you pulled out your phone and called your mum.

A short itinerary run-down later, you had plans to meet up outside their hotel and a half day of sightseeing between you and your unexpected coffee plans. That left only one other call to make, and it was one you didn’t want hanging over your head any longer. You dialed the number and listened as it rang through three times before you heard the other end pick up. When she didn’t say anything, you spoke first.

“Alma.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” She answered, the guilt unmistakeable in her voice.

“I’m sorry, too.” You sighed. “It was a shitty thing to do, though. I didn’t deserve that.”

“You didn’t.”

“Did you want me to see? You had to have known I wouldn’t be out that late.” You couldn’t help but ask. Her silence was all the answer you needed. “Okay. I’ll stay at Maya’s another night, but can you have your things out after that?” Thankfully, she had moved in with you only a few months back when her lease ended. Almost everything was yours, and you wouldn’t have the added insult of losing your flat along with your girlfriend.

“Yeah, I’ll pack everything today. I really am sorry.” You could hear her holding back tears, and you were struck by a pang of affection and sympathy for her. As cruel as cheating on you was, the last few months had been hard for both of you, and falling out of love with her first hadn’t been particularly kind either.

“Thank you, Alma. I hope things work out for you.”

“You too. I’ll miss you.” She ended the call, and you felt the weight on your chest ease.

--

It had been a long morning with your family, but you were immensely happy to have spent the time with them. Mum’s heavy-handed tourguiding made everyone laugh, but she had done her research well, and you were glad for it. Even after living in Madrid for three years, you still hadn’t taken the time to see all the sights. Plus, everything was more enjoyable with Luisa dragging you along to point out the best bits. You walked double the steps, but it was worth it to be honored as the most interesting adult, and you loved any opportunity to hear more about what her latest activities and interests were.

Having arrived a few minutes early to the coffee shop, you were lost in reflection on your family’s antics when the light touch of a hand on your elbow pulled you into the present. You jumped a little at the contact, and felt the hand grip a little tighter to steady you. It only took you a moment to look up and catch the owner’s warm brown eyes. As soon as you recognized her, María tugged you forward gently into a hug, and you sunk into the contact.

“Hi.” She said, releasing you to arm’s length.

“Hi, how are you?” You responded a little breathlessly as her hands finally fell away from your arms.

“Better now.” She answered you with a smile. “Have you been here before?” You shook your head no, returning her smile. “Good. It’s my favorite and I’m glad I get to introduce you to it. Come!” She pulled the door open and gestured for you to step inside. Stepping through the entrance, you were hit immediately by the rich smell of coffee, and you paused to appreciate it. You looked over your shoulder as María entered behind you and spoke with joking reverence.

“I think I’m in love already.” She chuckled and nudged you ahead with her own shoulder.

“You haven’t even tried it yet, keep walking!”

The two of you approached the counter and greeted the barista. You inclined your head to María to order first, and after a moment’s hesitation, she requested a café con leche Before the barista could give her a total, you ordered your cortado, card already in hand to cover both. You turned to look at the woman next to you and she raised her hands in mock surrender.

“Any pastries you recommend?” You asked, still looking at her.

“Everything is good, but my favorite is probably the pear tart.” She answered, and you looked back to the barista.

“One of those too, please.” She nodded, then recited the total and let you hand her your card. After ringing you up, she retrieved your pastry and passed it over on a plate with two forks.

You followed María to a quiet corner with an empty table. She pulled out one chair before walking to the other side and sitting down.

“Can’t risk you dropping our tart.” She said with a wink when you gave her a look. You rolled your eyes, but still felt a blush as you set the plate down carefully and took your seat. Her fingertips quickly snagged the edge of the plate, sliding it to her side of the table. It didn’t exactly bother you, but with her earlier chivalry you weren’t expecting her to immediately lay claim to the shared treat. You watched as she industriously carved out a bite with one of the forks, clearly taking care to perfect the crust to filling ratio and center a perfect slice of pear on the wedge she cut. Her focus was charming, but your mouth was nearly watering waiting for your turn.

“You have to have the perfect first bite, my reputation for having good taste could be on the line here if you aren’t impressed.” She spoke as she finally lifted her fork, extending it toward you with a shy smile. There was a burst of warmth in your chest as you realized the care she had taken was for you, even if it was only to prove she made the best choice. You opened your mouth and closed your eyes, leaning forward slightly to meet her over the table. Her free hand was loosely cupped under the fork to catch any crumbs, and it brushed your chin gently as you closed your lips over the forkful of tart. You tilted your head back as María pulled the fork away, instinctively raising your own hand as well. The back of her hand was soft where your palm met it, and she let it rest against yours for a moment before pulling away. Her trailing fingers were far from your mind, however, as soon as you began to chew the bite of tart. The flavor was divine, sharp and sweet and fresh all at once, paired with a perfectly buttery-flaky-crisp crust. María let out a burst of laughter and a fist pump at the wide-eyed nod you gave her when she asked if her reputation was secure, which in turn had you covering your mouth as you tried to swallow through a growing smile.

A barista calling out your orders had María quickly standing, waving off your offer to help, and gave you a chance to sneak a second bite and collect your thoughts for a moment. You felt silly for being so charmed by María’s kindness, from her it seemed more like second nature. Her actions, while some were a little over the top, felt like they came from a combination of genuine thoughtfulness and her desire to make you laugh. It struck you after a second, you felt taken care of. Not in the big-gesture way that Alma always wanted you to exhibit, hinting at big gifts and dramatic arrivals at her office to sweep her away to Ibiza, but something much gentler. It was nice, you realized-- both to be taken care of and for the acts to be so unpretentious.

“For you,” a hand touched your shoulder and your cortado was placed in front of you, “and for me!” María set her own cup down and took her seat, smiling and waving her hand dismissively as you thanked her.

The conversation flowed once again between the two of you, and you enjoyed it even more than you had the previous evening in your car. You managed to draw out the tart, each taking smaller and smaller bites until finally María nudged the plate toward you and insisted you take the final piece. You brought out a chuckle from her by solemnly confessing that you’d taken an extra bite while she fetched the coffees, and she happily stole the plate back to finish it off herself. With the food out of the way, you were both focused on each other, and you felt the heat of her gaze as she listened carefully to everything you said.

You covered a wide variety of topics, learning about her family and friends, her love for music, and the meaning behind some of her tattoos. She didn’t speak much about her work, but you could tell she was driven and passionate. You shared plenty in return, her open interest in what you said and thoughtful questions leading you down plenty of tangents, including a retelling of your family’s antics that had you both laughing. The two of you were so engrossed in the conversation, that it wasn’t until your phone started ringing that you realized how much time had passed.

“It’s the friend I’m staying with, I better answer.” You told María, who gave you a thumbs up as you stood to move a few paces from the table before you answered. “Hi Maya.”

“Girl, where are you?” She asked, skipping over any greeting. You looked down at your watch and realized it was after six. Not time for dinner yet, but Maya was no doubt expecting you to be there when she returned from work. You caught María’s eyes on you and rolled your own dramatically at her as you replied.

“Sorry Mum, I’m out with a friend and we lost track of time. I’ll be back soon. Do you need me to pick anything up on the way?” You could very nearly hear Maya’s eyes narrowing on the other end of the line.

“What friend? I know all your friends, they’re my friends. Unless…” You winced as she trailed off, realizing you didn’t want to have this conversation within earshot of María. “You’re with Alma? Or Alma’s m—”

“Okay! We can talk about this later!” You cut her off firmly, feeling your face heat as you wondered how audible Maya’s voice was from your phone speaker. “Also,” you continued, thinking it might be best to clarify once and for all, “I ended things with Alma officially this morning, so safe to assume I’m not with her.” Maya’s honest-to-god cheer was a bit embarrassing, but you did feel a little like cheering yourself, so you chose not to mention it.

“I’ll expect all the details when you get here. Be safe until then, love you!”

“Love you too.” You ended the call, looking down at your phone a few moments longer than necessary before raising your head to look at María. She had an unreadable expression, but quirked an eyebrow at you when you met her eyes.

“Your friend seems very fun.” She said, then after a pause, “sorry to hear about Alma.” It felt like she was giving you the option to choose whether you wanted to talk about it, which you appreciated.

“I’m not really sorry,” you said, “it should have happened a long time ago.” María kept her gaze on you, not interjecting, face carefully neutral. It reminded you of when you first looked at her in your lobby. In a quieter voice, you continued. “I don’t wish it did, though.” María’s easy smile was familiar to you already, but her lips didn’t curve this time. You felt a strong urge to leave quickly, or even better, for the floor to open up beneath you. Closing your eyes, you heard the chair scrape as she stood. How predictably thoughtful of her to leave you to recover from your embarrassment. Just as you listened for her departing footsteps, you were caught off guard by two strong arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace. Your eyes opened in surprise, but it didn’t take you long to squeeze just as tightly back, relief coursing through you. María’s face pressed into the side of your neck, and you felt her speak, but the words were too muffled to hear. The two of you held each other close a while longer, before she pulled back enough to look at you.

“This might be the strangest friendship I’ve had, but I’m so glad I met you.” She said, smiling softly. You returned her smile, and couldn’t resist saying,

“maybe Alma did both of us a favor in the end.” She gave your shoulders a squeeze in lieu of answering, but spoke after a moment.

“I had better send you back to your friend before she grounds you, I would hate for you to miss the game because you aren’t allowed to leave your room for a week.” It made you laugh, but the possibility is more likely than you’d like to admit. Maya had a greater chance of grounding you than your own mother did, in all honesty. It’s enough to spur you into action, and, after returning your dishes to the counter, the two of you made your way out of the cafe. You hugged one more time, then parted ways, but a shout of your name had you turning around before you made it to your car.

“I almost forgot to give you this!” María held out a folded piece of bright green fabric to you. “It’s the whole reason I dragged you out here after all.” You took it from her and unfolded it, quickly realizing it was a Real Madrid jersey, though not in the colors you were used to seeing.

“I thought you were joking when you said green!” She laughed in response to your confusion and explained that it was a goalkeeper’s jersey, hence the bright color.

“I brought a regular one as well if you prefer.” She added, sounding a little uncertain.

“No way, this is much better,” you held it up to your chest, “does it bring out my eyes like you said?” She leaned in a little closer, reaching out to lift the fabric up to your cheek.

“Absolutely.”

--

That evening after you returned to Maya’s and took a longer look at the jersey you sent María a text with a picture of the back of the jersey.

Me: This Misa better be good if I’m wearing her name on my back

María: Don’t worry, I wouldn’t let you wear her name if she wasn’t

[simp4fictionalmenandjesus]

yandere rin itoshi>>>

he will be soooo cold and not outwardly affectionate (at first) but on the inside he is absolutely OBSESSED.

like rin will seem literally so indifferent to you, but every-time you glance at him, he’ll be purposely not making eye contact because if he does he will be SOOOO RED, because even though it doesn’t show, your slightest acknowledgment cause rin to FREAK out. ‘omg omg omg she’s looking at me what do i do… she’s so pretty fuck i love her so much. if she keeps looking over here i don’t think i’ll be able to restrain myself🙏🙏🙏.’

you would think that when you start dating it gets better but bro… it gets worse💀💀💀. you’ll text him, not anything specific, just a normal text, something as simple as ‘hi, what are you up to?’ and he will leave you on read. it takes him around 8 hours to reply because he is overfilled with joy that you texted him. he is giggling and kicking his feet in the air type shit.

one day you texted him, asking if he wanted to get dinner, this was the first time that rin’s teammates have ever witnessed him smile. you texted him before his game against the U-20 japan team, wishing him luck and telling him you’d be cheering in the stands, and omfg. everyone in that locker room was like 🙀. rin was straight up smiling, and not one of those devious smiles his teammates were used to, this smile was a soft, ‘i’m so in love’ smile. you best believe that someone, (bachira), teased him PROFUSELY.

talking about the U-20 game, the first thing he did on court, before directing murderous thoughts towards his brother, was look for you in the stands. when he found you, he smiled softly, which you 100% could not see because well, you didn’t bring binoculars. after the match, he went to find you immediately, he didn’t even bother changing out of his jersey, so bro was sweaty as hell.

he hugged you incredibly tight, like bone crushingly tight. he lifted you up the ground and was kissing you profusely. this was actually the turning point in your relationship where rin started showing affection.

he introduced you to the blue lock team that day, just because he did not want to let you out of his sight for a second but he had to recuperate with ego and the team. so essentially. rin forced you to wait outside the locker rooms for him while he showered and since he was clinging to you straight after the match, his teammates finished before him and walked out of the locker room to see you, in rin’s jacket.

again, everyone went 🙀. you were bombarded with questions about your relationship, and by the time rin finished with his shower, you were already well acquainted with the blue lock boys.

rin was not happy about this at all. how dare they, his rivals, talk to you. he definitely dragged you away and kept you for himself, if his teammates and you exchanged numbers, he’d immediately block them and delete them off your phone.

he wouldn’t show his obsessive tendencies until you’ve been in a relationship with him for longer, the only reason he hadn’t kept you exclusively by his side so far was because he didn’t have the power to do so. he forces you to go to all of his games, press conferences, sometimes he’ll even drag you along to his practice whether you are busy or not, in fact, you probably won’t be busy because he’s made sure that you don’t have a job with long hours or a job at all. oh? what if you’re hanging out with friends? well, that won’t do… it’s time for some guilt tripping. “oh… but I need you there, are you friends more important than me?”

You’ll be spending every hour of the day with him, because after his games, press conferences and practices, he’ll bring you out for a meal, and then you’re going back home with him.

rin is the type of person who wants their loved one to rely solely on them. he’s really subtle with it too. he’ll slowly incorporate himself into every factor of your life, he wants your life to revolve around him, just as much as his revolves around you.

If you ever do realise how possessive and frankly, psycho he is, and try to leave him... well, i did say this man is a simp, rin will be begging on his knees, tears falling out of his eyes, hugging you tightly and not letting you go. honestly, you’ll be shocked because this is the first time you’ve seen him be sooooo emotional.

and if you try to get help from law enforcement? well, i hate to break it to you, but that’s never gonna work, because blue lock, and subsequently the government spent so much money to make these insane strikers and rin is one of, if not, the best strikers in the world. it’ll be covered up and you’ll be trapped.

as soon as you’re in captivity, his affection will dial up to 110%. now, he let’s his innermost thoughts out, because you’re finally all his. <3

[tojisfavlatina]

‘Me and My Husband’

Wc: 3.9k

Cw: nonconsensual drug use, brief message of SA

An: if you’ve seen this fic before… yeah that was me i accidentally deleted my tumblr acc cuz i didn’t know deleting ONE blog deletes all of them… oops… i also wrote that spider-man gojo fic WHICH I WILL REWRITE AND REUPLOAD

Being engaged to Satoru Gojo was nothing short of perfect. You both completely trusted each other, you were completely in love, you rarely ever argued, and if you did, it was over the simplest of things and you’d both end up laughing at the end of it.

The only problem was his family. They didn’t approve of your ranking as a grade 3 sorcerer and they didn’t like how you chose to spend your time as a sweets maker, instead of trying to become at minimum, a grade 1. You had the potential, they were aware of that, but you just chose not to try and promote your rank. They saw your actions as rebellious and an embarrassment to sorcerers.

When you first started dating Satoru, they all laughed in your face, saying your relationship was nothing more than a fling, but once Satoru announced he had proposed to you, hell broke loose.

They condemned it, they hated it, they even sent you threats, stating if you didn’t break off the engagement, they’d ruin your life.

Satoru always told you to never worry about them. He’d always choose you over his family, and of course, you trusted him.

⋆

“Ugh, do you have to go?” Satoru had gotten a call, another mission he had to oversee, since no one else could be trusted enough to take care of it.

He laughed at your grumbling. “I wish I didn’t, but you know how it is.”

You threw your head back on the couch and let out a deep sigh. “Yeah, I know… I just wish we could spend every day together.”

“Become a grade 1 and then we can go on missions everyday together.” He sat down next to you and placed his hand on your thigh.

You placed your hand on top of his. “Very funny, Satoru.”

You felt your phone buzzing and you quickly glanced at it, but the messages weren’t from anyone in your contacts.

2 New Messages From An Unsaved Number

hey it’s mei-mei

let’s go out tonight. just the two of us.

“It’s… Mei-Mei. Why would she be asking me to hang out?”

“Change of heart? I say give her a chance.”

“I don’t know… this feels random. She’s never liked me, Satoru, why would I believe she all of a sudden is a changed person?

“I think you’re acting way too paranoid.” You gave him a light smack on his forehead. He pouted at you as he rubbed it better. “Come on! It’s been forever since you’ve gone out, hasn’t it? Go have fun!”

You groaned with annoyance knowing he wouldn’t stop persisting. “Okay… only because you’re irritating me.” He gave you a smile and kissed your cheek before standing up.

“I guess I’ll see you later tonight. Have a great time baby.” Satoru gave you one last kiss before leaving.

Once you heard the door close, you flopped down onto the couch. You didn’t like the idea of hanging out with Mei-Mei, especially since it’d be just the two of you. There was a bad feeling growing in your gut, but you pushed it down because you told Satoru you’d have fun. You sent her a confirmation text and you felt your phone buzz a couple minutes later, but you didn’t even bother looking at it.

Slowly, you rose up from the couch and started getting ready. You didn’t bother doing much since you didn’t really care how Mei-Mei perceived you nor did you care about impressing anyone there. You were doing this for Satoru and Satoru only.

She sent you the address to a bar nearly half an hour away, so you decided to call an Uber instead of having her pick you up.

⋆

The bar was extremely busy, the only reason you were able to spot her was because of her bright hair.

You tapped her shoulder and let out a small hi. She let out a small gasp and gave you a smile before giving you a bone-crushing hug. “Go find us a table, I’ll get us drinks!” She left before you could even say anything, so you simply obliged.

You sat at an empty table and let out a shaky breath. You wanted to calm down, you wanted to have a good time, but this still felt strange.

She came back and slammed two glasses on the table, sliding one over to you.

“I wasn’t planning on drinking…”

“Come on~ one drink won’t hurt…”

“…Okay.” You took the shot from her and downed it immediately. It burned your throat, making you wince. There was a slight salty taste, but you ignored it, thinking maybe alcohol just tastes like that now. You rarely ever went out to bars or clubs, since Satoru was a lightweight and couldn’t get past two drinks. Mei-Mei giggled at your reaction and took her shot soon after.

“I’m gonna get us some more~.”

“N-no Mei-Mei, please I had the one drink, I think that’s enough.”

“What? You don’t want to have some more fun with your friend?”

“I… I’m gonna find the bathroom.” You quickly left your seat and walked forward, not even knowing if you were headed the right way. You eventually found the line for it and waited.

Once it was your turn, you felt yourself get lightheaded, must’ve been one hell of a shot Mei-Mei gave you.

You finished using the restroom and tried finding Mei-Mei, but couldn’t spot her. Every step you took had you stumbling, you couldn’t even stand up straight. You’ve only had one drink… Why was it affecting you this much?

You spotted white hair in the middle of a group of people, and you let out a sigh of relief. You hoped Mei-Mei could take you home since you felt so strange.

You pushed through the crowd to reach her, but once you did, it wasn’t her you saw.

“S-Satoru? Why are you h-here? … at work…” The words that could leave your mouth came out slurred and mumbled. The music started sounding extremely muffled, every blink you took made your vision blurrier. Satoru kept fading in and out, eventually, someone grabbed your arm and pulled you outside.

Your eyes shut. Once they opened again, you were inside a house, but you couldn’t tell who it belonged to.

Everything felt foggy, you felt nauseous. You wanted to stand, you tried to.

But you must’ve fallen, since the next time you had opened your eyes, you were blinded by the sun’s rays.

The first thing you felt was pain. Your head was throbbing and the light wasn’t making it any better. You rubbed your temples for any sort of relief, but to no avail.

You slowly opened your eyes, hoping they’d adjust to the light. Blink by blink, the light wasn’t so harsh anymore and you could fully open them. You looked around and didn’t recognize where you were.

Satoru. I need to call him. You looked around for your phone, but as you looked down, you weren’t in the clothes you put on last night. Instead, you wore an oversized shirt and sweats, clearly belonging to a man. A sick feeling grew in your stomach. There’s no way in hell…

“Mornin’.” A deep voice caused a shiver to run down your spine. Every worst case scenario went through your mind.

“W-who are you? Where am I?” He handed you two pills, but you refused to take them, you didn’t even know who he was.

The man only rolled his eyes at you before dropping the pills onto the coffee table. “They’re painkillers. Take ‘em’ or don’t, I don’t care.”

“How did I get here… did we…did you…” Sleeping in the house of a stranger scared you enough, but the possibility of him also taking advantage of you, made your heart almost stop.

“No. We didn’t have sex, I didn’t even touch you. The most we ‘did’ was me liftin’ your body off the floor.”

“Did you see the girl I was with? She has white hair-

“Yeah, she left. She came with us last night, but she was gone before I even woke up. Hell of a friend you got.” He walked to another room and came back out with a bag. “Here’s your shit. You should leave soon.” You only nodded to him before he left you alone again.

At the top of the bag was your phone, which thankfully, had enough battery to last you until you got home. There were 27 missed calls from Satoru alone, and a couple of others from your friends. You’d call them once you got home, right now you just wanted to hear Satoru. You dialed his number, but it immediately went to voicemail.

You didn’t think much of it. His phone was probably dead, you were always the one that plugged it in at night. You’d see him soon, so you simply ordered a ride home

⋆

You unlocked the front door, but it was eerily quiet inside. He was probably still asleep, he always woke up late.

You walked towards your room, the door was slightly cracked open, but you could see a figure inside, “Satoru?” Once you opened it all the way, you saw it was him and let all your things fall to the floor. You missed him so much, you just wanted him to hold you.

He had his blindfold on, which was extremely out of character, he rarely wore it around you anymore. He was sitting on your guy’s bed and stared at the wall ahead of him, not even glancing at you. “You’re back.” His tone was cold and his voice was meak, the complete opposite of what you had expected.

“Yeah… I am.” You approached him for a hug, but he stood up and immediately backed away from you. “Satoru? What’s wrong with you?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong with me… the fuck is wrong with me…” He let out a dry laugh. Everything about him was confusing you. “What exactly did you do last night?”

“I… I don’t remember. I met up with Mei-Mei, I had a drink, then everything after that is… blurry.”

“What were you doing with Toji?”

“Who’s Toji?”

“So you don’t even know the man who you slept with last night. That’s fucking amazing.”

“What are you talking about? I didn’t sleep with anyone!”

He pulled out his phone and walked towards you. Satoru made you hold it as he swiped. On the screen was a picture of you getting pulled out of the bar by a man and you getting into that same man’s car. You recognized the man, you woke up in his house this morning. You started laughing at Satoru. “Is that Toji? Are you two friends? Wait… you both set this up to prank me! Oh~ you really got me.” You continued laughing, but as you looked at his face, he didn’t find this the slightest bit of amusing, making you stop.

He snatched his phone from your hand before inhaling deeply, “and whose clothes are you wearing?”

“I don’t know. I woke up like this.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned, “and you keep lying to me, even though I already know…”

“Already know what?” Your voice grew louder, angrier. “You don’t… believe me?”

“How am I supposed to!? There’s pictures, the clothes you’re wearing, Mei-Mei called and told me everything that happened.” Hearing her name made you pause…

Mei-Mei…

“You believe Mei-Mei over me? Satoru, you know she’s been oddly obsessed with you since you’ve known her.” You threw an accusing finger at him.

He only glared at your finger, and at you. “I’ve also known her longer than you. She’s given me evidence that you cheated on me, so is believing her really the craziest thing right now?” You were taken aback by his words. He had never doubted you before, but now he was believing Mei-Mei of all people.

“So is that what’s going on? Is this your lame ass way to end things with me, so you can go and have her? Is that why you were so insistent on me going out?” He rolled his eyes and scoffed at you.

“Don’t try turning this on me ‘cuz you can’t own up and admit you’re a whore now.” You lifted your hand to slap him, but your hand never made contact with his skin. His infinity was on. Satoru didn’t even trust you enough to have it off around you anymore.

You scoffed, tears were building in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You let out a shaky breath, “okay… I’ll admit to being a whore once you admit you were too pussy to end things with me, so you called your side bitch for help.”

“My family was right, I should’ve never proposed to you.” That was the last straw for you.

“Yeah, they were right.” You started gathering your things, but as you tried walking past him, he grabbed your arm to stop you.

“I already packed my things. You have my number right?” He let go of you and started walking out of the room, “make sure to get rid of it.” He walked further away and you eventually heard the front door slam shut.

Everything that just happened hit you all at once, finally breaking you. At first, you felt so betrayed, so angry. You threw the framed picture of him you kept on your nightstand against the wall, shattering it. Anything that even reminded you of him was broken. Once your rampage was over, you fell to your knees and started wailing, screamed until your voice was gone, you could barely breathe at this point.

You weren’t sure if you even wanted to.

Your entire life, the love of your life, gone.

Just like that.

⋆

A few days passed, you’d wake up hoping it was a nightmare, but the other side of the bed was always empty. He’s in the bathroom… he just woke up before me.

You’d get up to use the bathroom, but of course, it was empty, not even his toothbrush was there.

He was gone, and every time you came to that realization again, you’d break down sobbing.

⋆

A week passed. You knew he wouldn’t be there. You knew he wasn’t coming back. It still hurt, but you had to get use to it.

Word got out to your friends that you’d broken up, and they all sided with him. No one came to check up on you. It sucked, but you grew to understand it.

⋆

Three knocks sounded from the door. They were faint, almost hesitant. At first, you thought you imagined them, but then you heard them again, this time, a lot louder.

You opened the door to see the very man who had caused this depressive episode. Just seeing him made your knees almost buckle. Various emotions coursed through your body; rage, shame, sorrow, but worst of all, love.

You wanted to throw yourself back into his arms, for him to cradle you and say everything’s okay. You needed his warmth against yours and to bring you back the comfort you’ve been yearning for since he left.

But that wasn’t possible. Nothing he could say would fix what he’d done to you. His immediate response being to leave you, told you how much you really meant to him. He was so quick to push you away, like these last couple of years together truly meant nothing to him. It hurt to think about all the empty promises he had given you when he proposed.

How he promised to cherish you forever. How he swore to endlessly love you no matter what. How he’d choose to relive this lifetime over and over again if it meant being with you and only you.

The longer you stared into his eyes, the more you wanted to bawl. All of those happy memories you had with him flooded your mind, nearly drowning you into submission.

A lifetime had passed before you decided to be the one to break the silence. “Why are you here?” Your voice was laced with venom, making him rethink everything he wanted to say to you.

“I… I needed to see you again.” He could barely even look at you. Ironic. He knew he had caused you all of this pain and he wanted so badly to just hold you once more. “Can I come in?”

You exhaled before answering him, this didn’t feel real, you weren’t sure if you wanted it to be. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” His eyes pleaded to be let in, making it hard for you to refuse. You opened the door a little wider and let him walk past you. You closed the door behind him and stayed facing it.

“We need to talk.”

“I don’t think there’s much else to say.”

He tried turning you to face him, but you wouldn’t move. “Please. Just give me 5 minutes and then you can slap me, kick me, scream at me, I don’t care, please just… listen to me for a bit.”

You sighed. “5 minutes.” He let out a breath and thanked you. You ignored him and you both walked over to the living room.

You sat down and waited for him to start. He was nervous, he wouldn’t stop pacing around.

This was getting on your nerves. “Time’s ticking.”

“I found out my family had paid Mei-Mei to set you up. They paid her to drug you, and they paid Toji to take you home. I talked to Toji and he said he wasn’t aware of this plan they had set up. All he was told was to take you and Mei-Mei to his place and that’s what he did.” He said that all within a single breath.

Everything that had happened that night came back to you and what he just told you, explained everything.

It explained why you got drunk so easily, why you ended up in Toji’s car, why you woke up the next day with different clothes on, and why Mei-Mei had that picture of you and Toji together.

To say you were pissed was an understatement.

“You believed everyone else over me, over your own fucking fiancée.”

“Mei-Mei showed me proof! How am I supposed to believe words over that?” He threw his hands into the air out of frustration.

“Because they were my words! When have I ever fucking lied to you, Satoru?!” He was stunned into silence and you took a deep breath before you continued.

“When you proposed to me, I thought that meant we could trust one another, that we understood each other, that we were in love, but I see that I was wrong. You believed the bitch that’s been trying to get at you since high school. You chose the family that you shit talked more times than you’ve told me you loved me. All of them… over me.”

He was at a loss for words. He felt like the biggest idiot alive. Satoru knew he had made the worst mistake possible, believing others before you, and he could see that now.

Before, he was so blinded with anger, he was so hurt by you, he thought he had hated you. He even blamed himself, thinking you had cheated on him because he didn't care about you or didn’t appreciate you enough. He didn’t even stop to consider you were telling the truth.

You tore your eyes away from his body, knowing if you even caught a glance of him, you’d never say what needed to be said. “Maybe… maybe this is for the best. You need someone equally as strong alongside you. Someone who can pick up from where you may fall short, not someone weak, who drags you down alongside them. Maybe your family doing this was the right thing to do. You need to find someone better.”

Every word you spoke tore his heart apart. He hated hearing you belittle yourself, how you thought leaving him is what’s best, and how the both of you knew, you didn’t believe a single word that came out of your mouth.

He grabbed onto your hands and tried getting you to look at him, but you wouldn’t budge. “But there isn’t someone better. I don’t need to find anyone else… I need you. I can’t imagine my life without you, I don’t even know how I managed to live before I met you. You’re the reason I wake up in the morning and the reason I continue living. You make me want to get stronger so that every time I leave, you have that reassurance that I’m coming back home.” You continued looking away from him, causing him to feel helpless since he knew once your mind was set on something, there wasn’t any changing it.

He fell in love with your stubbornness, and now that same stubbornness became his grief. He couldn’t stop the flow of tears that fell from his eyes. Gojo hated showing weakness, he hated showing that he was just a human. He was never treated as such, so why act like one?

It hurt to see him like this. You hated seeing him in pain, but you kept convincing yourself this was the right decision. “Satoru, I’m always going to love you…” You tore your hands away from him and slid your engagement ring off your finger, “so when you eventually find the perfect somebody, the person who truly completes you, just know it was all because of me. Because I had the strength to let you go. I had the strength to let you find true happiness.” The tears that had been threatening to fall finally came crashing down.

You had spent the last few weeks all by yourself, abandoned by your fiancée, so officially breaking things off should’ve been easy. But it was so difficult having to mourn the very person that stood right in front of you.

It’d be so easy running back into his arms and saying everything’s okay. That everything would be fixed and everything would go back to normal.

However, there wasn’t any trust anymore, the very foundation your relationship was built on, was broken. Staying with him would mean living under his constant supervision, since he’d fear being lied to. You’d never be able to enjoy yourself without feeling guilty. It simply wasn’t possible.

You wiped your eyes and sniffled a few times before speaking again. “It’s been 5 minutes, Gojo. You should leave.”

He was on his knees, practically begging now. “Don’t do this. Don’t call me that. Please, we can make it work again, it’ll be okay.”

“I gave you what you wanted, and now it’s time for you to go.” He very hesitantly got up and tried to at least hug you, but you backed away from him. “Funny, you still haven’t even apologized to me.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but you quickly raised your hand to stop him. “Don’t bother. Just leave.”

Gojo wiped his eyes and turned to walk out. He wanted to say something, anything, but his mouth kept failing him. He decided to say nothing, he didn’t want to make it worse. He opened the door to leave but before he could, you grabbed his shoulder

“You have my number right?” He nodded, a spark of hope lit up in his eyes. “Make sure to get rid of it.”

[midnightsnyx]

Matthew Tkachuk - All I Need

pairing: matthew tkachuk x reader requested: yes / no a/n: i haven't written a long one-shot in awhile but i really like this one! requests are open. word count: 1k

tw: bullying

masterlist ask box

You didn’t usually let it bother you; the whispers, staring, and anything else the other girls did. It wasn’t as bad when Taryn was at a game but those were far and few between lately so you had to endure it by yourself. It was different today though. Maybe it was because you had a fight with Matt before the game and let yourself dive into his comment sections on Instagram on any photos of the two of you. There were always nice ones, but the nasty ones were nasty. You know Matt spends hours reporting accounts and blocking them despite you telling him not to bother. People would find a way to criticize your relationship regardless of how many accounts he blocked. 

It was how your argument that morning started. He was eating breakfast while you fed the cat, scrolling through Instagram and frowning. You knew right away what he was upset about and walked to where he was sitting and put a hand on his arm so he would look at you.

“They don’t bother me,” you lied but he shook his head and mumbled something along the lines of "well it should”, so you dropped your hand and walked away. You went to sit down in the living room to watch something and heard him cleaning his plate a few minutes later before he joined you on the couch. He was quiet but didn’t have his phone anymore so you thought that he was done with it. 

“I could delete my Instagram,” he said suddenly, as if that was the solution to stopping the criticism. 

“That’s ridiculous,” you said. “Wiping yourself from social media doesn’t stop the mean girls. They’re at games too.” 

The minute you said it, you winced. You had been pretty good at not letting him know that the bullying was not strictly online. Taryn was nagging you to tell Matt exactly what was happening at games, but you didn’t want him worrying about it. You could ignore the things the girls said and just focus on the game.

Most times.

“What are you talking about? People are saying things to you at games too?”

You shrugged, ignoring his attempts at getting you to look at him.

“Girls like you, okay? They don’t think I’m good enough for you so they make comments.” You hesitated, but told him the same lie you always did. “It doesn’t bother me.”

“I’ll talk to them,” he said and you groaned in frustration.

“Yeah, like a parent confronting their child’s bully. I’ll pass, thanks.”

He argued with you for twenty minutes, saying that it would make things better if he confronted the other girls in the family seating area. It would just make it worse though, you knew it would. So in a moment of frustration, you told him if he talked to them, you wouldn’t go to anymore games. 

It was a lie, and you both knew it but the two of you were so annoyed with each other by that point, that he left for the rink early. He still had at least an hour before he should’ve left and it put you in a sour mood. Enough that you considered not going to the game that night, but in the end you pulled on your Tkachuk jersey and made your way to the arena. 

That brought you to this moment, listening to one of the girls purposely talking loudly about a bet they had placed on how much longer Matt would put up with you, despite the fact that the two of you had been dating for two years. You’d heard whispers about why he hadn't proposed yet multiple times, but you were able to ignore that because you and Matt had a serious talk about marriage and the fact that you wanted to wait a bit longer. 

“He can do so much better,” one of them said and you bite your tongue, knowing that saying something will just feed into their fantasy. You’re not sure exactly what it is, besides their wishes for you and Matt to break up. 

“Yeah, I mean just look at her.” 

It takes everything in you not to turn around and say something to them but the game ends so you get up and leave. You’re not sure if Matt knows that you came to the game because you hadn’t texted him so you go down to meet him near the locker doors. The security guy nods when you flash your ID but you come down here so often that he knows you. 

The Panthers lost, so you know Matt will be in a crooked mood but you still want to see him. While you’re waiting, the guys slowly trickle out of the locker room, nodding at you. 

Finally, Matt walks out and stops short when he sees you. He wasn’t expecting you to come to the game tonight at least because of your fight so you give him your best attempt at a smile. 

There’s a ten second pause before he walks over and wraps his arms around you and holds you gently. You’re pretty sure you stand there for at least five minutes before you pull away.

“I love you,” you tell him. “I love that you’d delete all your social medias, that you’d give the mean girls a lecture, and that you spend hours blocking and reporting accounts that say mean things about me.” You kiss him, smiling when he chases after you when you pull away. “But I promise, if it ever gets too much, I’ll tell you. I’m working on ignoring what everyone says, but in the meantime, all I need is you.” 

He runs his thumb across your bottom lip and nods. “Okay.”

He pulls you into another hug and you let your head rest on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. 

“Also, I was totally considering slapping one of them silly tonight,” you say and you can’t see his face, but you know he’s grinning.

[melobin]

hello !!

so it’s been brought o my attention that over the past few weeks an account has practically been spreading hate about @01zfan without directly tagging her. i’ll post the screenshots with the dates the posts were posted underneath the read more.

i understand that people may look at me and accuse me of being an ot6, just like they have before and at this point im not bothered? i know im an ot7 and the people i care about do. i got into riize just before they debuted and i’ve always loved and supported seunghan, but i’ll support my friends more if they’re being unfairly attacked over him.

at the end of the day we all want the same thing for seunghan and spreading hate about people and calling them “closeted ot6’s” isn’t going to get shit. ninona has explained on countless occasions why she doesn’t write for seunghan and i respect her for it, i understand it. she’s never spoke badly about him nor has wished for him to not return. whilst this is something we would have wanted to speak to the blog about, their asks and their replies are turned off and it only makes me think they don’t want to deal with the consequences of what they’re doing. it’s a shame i care more about the well being of a friend than the cowardliness of a blog actively posting hate about them.

@ohmark dawg this isn’t the way to go about getting seunghan back and you know it. you’re unnecessarily spreading hate about blogs who have never spoke ill of seugnhan, you’re “closeted ot6” theory seems more like paranoia that people don’t like him when they have stated they do. we would have left you be if you simply posted hating on sm and wishing for his return but instead you dedicated your blog to spreading hate about other blogs and that’s not something i’ll ever be able to stand for.

please continue under the read more. i love you all forever and i appreciate you taking the time to read this. please don’t send anyone hate over this, i just feel as if people need to be aware of what’s going on and the hate that’s being spread.

8th august

personally, from the opinion of a ot7 riize writer, i literally see nothing wrong with this. even i struggle with headcanoning seunghan. in another ask ohmark stated that they don’t understand that mentality because it’s fanfiction and you cannot portray them in an accurate light but what they fail to understand is that what we write, when we write for these idols we base it off of their personalities, something we’re slowly seeing more of from riize overtime. something we didn’t get a lot of with seunghan. i’ll be the first to admit it’s miles easier to write for the other members because i feel as if i know more about them. it’s not about knowing them personally, it’s simply just about knowing things about them and we don’t know half as much about seunghan as we do for the other members.

even now she gets asks asking why she doesn’t write for him, she’s gotten countless hate asks that she’s deleted wishing death upon her, insulting her writing and being racist towards her.

this ask was sent just a few hours before ohmark had posted a screenshot of her reasoning for not writing for seunghan. what’s the need? even if she did state she didn’t like seunghan, why spread so much hate? if you dislike something so much, just block the person it’s not difficult at all. nothing about this is okay at all, it never has been and it never will be. i think it’s utterly fucking disgusting if you ask me!

last night they posted this, most likely due to the instagram upload that was posted by instagram. it’s upsetting seeing him being left out of their milestones but this? this isn’t it.

20th august

they could have either not added the @ 01zfan. the post would have been find without it, i would’ve respected it and if it came up on my dash i would have interacted with it. but they had to ruin it by being unnecessarily hateful toward two individuals who has nothing to do with seunghan’s hiatus or his return.

bonus !! not to mention people who active follow and reblog ninona’s things are also reblogging hate posts about her which is insane to me … you’re either against her for choosing not to write for seugnhan or you like her … reblogging a fic and following ninona yet reblogging hate about her is crazy.

[cinnoasch]

Is it ok if I request an Akira scenario where he's helping Y/N achieve her 'true persona'? How would he react when she achieves her persona? Or, different case scenario, how would Y/N react to Akira's "new form" when he gains HIS persona. dunno if this would work out, I've kinda forgot parts of the plot of Persona so I don't rlly remember where or when exactly this happened-

A/N: Hi anon! I'm so so sorry this took so long! I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 2427

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Wish (Akira Kurusu x Fem!Reader)

You let out a sigh as you stare at your phone, occasionally typing some words and then deleting them a few seconds later. Tomorrow, the Phantom Thieves were going to steal Maruki’s treasure and fix reality once and for all. You were a bit nervous, but you had faith that things would turn out the way you hoped. The only thing that was bothering you however… was Akira. Besides the short conversations you had with the team during palace exploration, you hadn’t talked to him outside of that. You really wanted to, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to text or call him.

It was silly honestly. He was your boyfriend, yet here you were unable to talk to him. When you two first started dating, Akira told you that he would always be there for you, no matter what. Whether you needed to vent, talk or just wanted his company, he’d be there. Yet what about you? You hadn’t been there for him when he started the infiltration on Maruki’s palace. You had a hunch that things weren’t right from the start of the New Year, yet you couldn’t bring yourself out of that ‘perfect reality’. You wanted things to stay like that, even if he wasn’t by your side. Even if that was what you wanted the most.

Suddenly your phone rings, playing a ringtone you knew far too well. You glance at the screen seeing Akira's name and you answer hesitantly.

"Are you using our text messages as your grocery list again?" He asks.

“Wha- no, why would you ask that?”

“Well, you were taking a long time to type so I just figured you were typing your grocery list out.”

“I wasn’t typing out my grocery list for your information. Shopping’s the last thing on my mind right now.” You sigh. “Anyways, how’d you know I was typing? Were you waiting for me to text you?”

Akira chuckles, “I mean when your girlfriend suddenly cuts you off, a guy can’t help but wonder if he did something wrong.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Akira. It’s just… you know things have been hectic. We’ve been so busy lately with Maruki and everything else.”

“So busy that you can’t talk to me?”

You stay silent. He was right after all. Akira had made sure you all finished planning out a path to the treasure long before the deadline. You had plenty of time to talk to him, but you just felt guilty every time you thought about it.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” He sighs. “It’s just… I miss you;, you know? We’ve barely talked since this whole thing started. And I’m not blaming you, it’s my fault too but if there’s something wrong, I want you to tell me.” 

“I know, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worry. I know it’s late, but I want to talk to you… can I come over?”

“No need, I’m already heading your way. Just wait for me, okay?”

“Okay.”

You hang up and put your phone down on the couch next to you. You were glad that he called but you also felt terrible. The last thing you wanted to do was make him worry, make him feel as if he did something wrong. You hated hearing him like that. Sure, you two had your fights sometimes but this was different. Not only did you betray his trust, but you broke your own promise to him.

Akira must have been closer than you expected because a few minutes later you hear a knock on the door. You go to open it, greeting him with a smile. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He replies a bit out of breath. “You weren’t waiting long, were you?”

“Please tell me you didn’t run here.”

“I didn’t. Definitely not.”

You roll your eyes as you pull him inside and close the door behind him. “Liar. Come on in, before you catch a cold.”

Akira chuckles, “I only did what you told me to. Besides, I was going to show up uninvited, but I’m glad I called you first.”

“So that’s why you said you were already headed over… Well, thank you for calling first.” You clear your throat. “Anyways, um, sit down. Would you like some tea or hot chocolate?”

He shakes his head, “No thanks.” Then he takes a seat on the couch, patting the empty space next to him. “Come here. You don’t have to be so nervous.”

“I’m not nervous…” you mumble as you sit down next to him. “Okay maybe a little, but it’s just because we haven’t talked like this in a while. Like… a serious conversation like this.”

“Would you believe me if I told you I was nervous too?”

“No. You’re always so calm and collected. If you are, I can’t tell.”

“Then here,” Akira says, taking your hand and placing it over his heart. Even through his winter coat, you could feel his heart beating at a quick, steady pace. You glance up, meeting his gaze as he smiles softly. “Now, do you believe me?”

You nod, unable to tear your eyes away from him. Just how lucky were you to have someone like him in your life? Someone that easily washed away the doubts in your mind with a single action. Someone that was so kind to you even after how you treated him. With a simple action and a smile that melted your heart, Akira washed your guilt away. It’s hard to believe that your ‘perfect reality’ didn’t have him by your side. 

“If you keep staring at me like that, we might not get any talking done at all.”

Drawn out of your thoughts, you quickly pull your hand away from Akira’s chest. “S-sorry, I was just thinking…” 

“It’s okay. Still nervous?”

You shake your head. “Nope, nerves are all gone. Thank you.” With a deep breath, you start. “Well, first of all, I wanted to apologize for how I’ve been these past few weeks. I didn’t mean to cut you off like that, and my intention wasn’t to make you think you did something wrong. It’s just… I felt guilty.”

“Guilty?”

“Mhm… the truth is, I knew from the beginning that this reality was off. I’m not sure how I knew, it was just a hunch really. But, instead of telling you, I pretended to not know. It’s just seeing everyone so happy… it wouldn’t feel right taking that away. Yet in the end, I guess we all made up our minds anyway…” You look down at your hands, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “The main thing is that I should’ve been there when you first infiltrated Maruki’s palace. And yet I wasn’t. Despite you always being there for me, I couldn’t even be there for you…”

“So you knew…”

You nod, feeling Akira’s gaze. You knew that if you looked at him, you might just end up crying. He didn’t sound mad, if anything it was more surprise and slight disappointment. To be honest, you weren’t sure why you made that choice of not telling him. Maybe it was just how you were, you always had a habit of hiding things from people, even if you didn’t mean to.

To your surprise he ruffles your hair, and you look up, seeing him smile. “I’m not upset. So don’t look so sad. I’m a bit hurt that you didn’t tell me, but it sounds like you had your reasons, right?”

“...yeah. I didn’t want to see our friends have what they wanted the most taken away from them.”

“And what did you want? You probably weren’t affected by Maruki’s reality because you didn’t have it.”

“I…” You hesitate. Would it be selfish of you to say what you wanted? He was already right here next to you. Just like you wanted originally. However, voicing your thoughts aloud was different. If you told him, what would he think? 

“There’s that look again.” Akira says with a small chuckle as his gaze turns towards the ground. “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me now. Or ever, if you don’t really want to. But just know that whatever it was, it wasn’t selfish of you to think that way… I mean, all of us, me included, we have our selfish ways, don’t we? That’s why this ‘perfect reality’ came about anyways.”

It wasn't often, but very rarely you saw this type of expression on Akira. It was distant, but there was also a feeling of longing. As if he was trying to come to terms with something. 

“...perfect reality…” You mumble quietly. Then your eyes widen in realization. 

Tonight was the last day for Maruki to contact Akira. You felt stupid for forgetting something so important. Then you look at Akira. Did he have that same look throughout all of this? That look of loneliness? That look easily told you who else was on his mind.

"Maruki contacted you… right? To be honest it slipped my mind… even though it was something so important."

Akira nods. "Yeah, he contacted me."

"And Akechi was there too?"

He looks at you surprised. "How did you-"

"The look on your face. The last time I saw you with that expression was when he died. You two were really close, huh?"

“...yeah.” Akira sighs. “Somehow, Maruki heard of what happened to him and in order to give us another chance at being friends, this reality came to life.” Akira runs his hands through his hair. “If we don’t go through with taking back our reality… Akechi will be alive, and if we don’t… well the answer is obvious.”

You stay silent, not sure of what to say. What could you say to this? 

“It’s a lot to take in, right? You’d think it’d be a simple decision after everything. But when someone’s life is being used like that…like a bargaining chip… it just feels wrong.” Akira shakes his head slightly and glances at you. “What would you do if you were me?”

There was that expression again. How were you supposed to answer him when such a sorrowful expression painted his face?

“I…” You begin hesitantly, trying to find the words to say. “I’d go through with what we started. Of course, using someone’s life like that is just wrong, but I think it’d be best if we went through with it. I think Akechi wouldn’t be able to stand knowing that we turned our backs on what we originally planned to do. If we did that… it’d just seem like his sacrifice in Shido’s palace was for nothing… at least that’s how I feel.”

Akira chuckles, “Sounds about right.” He sits up, leaning his head back to stare at the ceiling. “I thought the exact same thing.”

“You already gave Maruki your answer then… So why ask for my opinion?”

He hums in thought, a smile appearing on his face. “Because your opinion is important to me. Why do you think I was in such a rush to get here, to talk to you? During this whole thing, I’ve heard everyone’s opinions on what they thought we should do about this reality. Yet the one person whose opinion I wanted to hear the most, the person whose opinion is the most important to me, never contacted me to talk.” Akira turns to you, a soft expression on his face. “You know I’ll always be here for you right? No matter what. So don’t keep your feelings or thoughts locked inside.”

You blink a couple of times, feeling tears start to prick at your eyes again. You chuckle slightly as you look away from him. “You sure do have a way with words. Makes sense that you’re our leader…” With a sigh you face him with a smile. “I’ve made up my mind. No more keeping to myself. It wouldn't be fair to you, making you worry. I want to be someone you can rely on too.”

You couldn’t explain it but somehow, you felt different after you told Akira that. As if your soul felt stronger somehow, as if a voice in your head told you that you had changed. You weren’t exactly sure what this feeling was, but you knew that you wanted to give back to Akira after all he’s done for you.

You hear him chuckle, about to say something but you place a finger on his lips. “Nope, I know what you’re gonna say. That you already rely on me for a lot, but let me have this okay? I want to trust in this feeling that I have, that I can be stronger for you and the team. If I can’t truly confide in you, then who am I to even wish for you?”

“You… So that was your wish?”

“I-” Your face reddens in embarrassment as you take your hand away from his face and avert your gaze. You didn’t even realize what you had said.

“Oh, what happened to ‘no more keeping to myself’?” Akira teases. “C’mon, be honest now.”

Your face reddens even more as you look down at your hands, mumbling slightly. “I wished for you.”

“One more time? I couldn’t quite hear you.”

“I wished for you! There, happy?” You shout as you look at Akira. He had the widest smirk on his face. You grab the pillow next to you and smother him with it. “Wipe that grin off your face…”

“What? A guy can’t be happy that his girlfriend wished for him? You don’t have to be so embarrassed. Y’know it’s cute that you’d wish for something you already have.”

“Just please… shut up.”

He laughs and suddenly you feel his hands on yours as he lowers the pillow so he can look at you. “But seriously, I’m really happy you told me, even though you said it without realizing. You said it with such conviction, I wasn’t sure if I heard you correctly. You feel… stronger.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“Mm, I think I can prove otherwise.”

You laugh as you look up, meeting his eyes again. “Yeah? And how can you-”

In one swift motion, Akira closes the gap between the two of you, his lips pressing onto yours. It was quick and sweet; you didn’t even have the time to react with how fast it happened.

As he leans his forehead against yours, you can hear him whisper, a bit of playfulness laced in his voice. “Believe me now?”

[doumadono]

[emergency request]

if you're not comfortable writing something like this, feel free to delete my ask, but if it isn't too much trouble, may i please request some hurt/comfort for xiao x a gn!reader who feels like a burden because their chronic joint pain and brain fog make it difficult for them to complete certain tasks and feels guilty about not being able to do more? thank you so much in advance if you do decide to fulfill my request and regardless, i hope you have a good day/night

Quiet resolve - Xiao x gn!Reader

EMERGENCY REQS - PART 2

The cool evening breeze swept through the open balcony, carrying with it the scent of pine and distant rain. The Wangshu Inn was quiet tonight, save for the faint rustle of leaves and the soft hum of the lanterns swaying in the wind. The sky above was painted with streaks of deep orange and purple as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the wooden floors. You leaned against the railing, staring out at the distant mountains, but even the beautiful landscape couldn't distract you from the heavy weight in your chest.

Your joints ached - the dull, persistent throb in your knees and elbows that never seemed to leave. Each movement reminded you of how much your body fought against you. And the brain fog? That was worse. It made simple tasks feel like scaling a mountain. You were supposed to help Xiao with a few chores earlier, but everything had taken longer than expected, leaving you feeling frustrated, and worse - useless.

The guilt settled in your stomach like a stone. Xiao did so much - always protecting, always on guard - and here you were, barely able to keep up. You sighed, resting your forehead against your hand, trying to fight the rising sense of inadequacy.

You didn’t hear Xiao approach, but you felt his presence before you heard his voice. "Why are you out here alone?"

His voice was calm as always, but there was a subtle concern laced within it. You turned slightly, your eyes catching a glimpse of him standing near the doorway. The soft glow of the lanterns lit his face, casting shadows that highlighted the tired look in his eyes, though his gaze was focused entirely on you.

"I just… needed some air," you said, offering him a small smile. You tried to make your voice sound light, but the strain behind it was too obvious to hide.

Xiao stepped forward, his quiet footsteps barely making a sound on the creaking floorboards. He stopped beside you, close enough that you could feel the slight shift in the air. His gaze shifted between you and the sunset, clearly unconvinced by your answer. "You’re not fine," he stated bluntly, though his voice held its usual softness. "What’s bothering you?"

You hesitated, the weight in your chest tightening. How could you explain this to him? Xiao, who had fought for centuries without a break, who had faced things no human could fathom, and here you were - unable to complete a few simple tasks. It felt ridiculous, selfish even, to complain.

"It’s nothing," you lied, staring at the darkening horizon. "I just… I wish I could do more. I feel like I’m not pulling my weight."

Xiao’s gaze sharpened, though his voice remained steady. "What do you mean?"

You exhaled, the guilt bubbling to the surface despite your best efforts to push it down. "I see you doing so much, Xiao. You're always protecting people, always helping. And I… I can’t even finish what I said I would. My body just won’t let me." You shook your head, the frustration building. "I feel like a burden. You shouldn’t have to worry about me when you already have so much to deal with."

The silence that followed felt heavy, thick with the weight of your confession. You stared at the mountains in the distance, waiting for him to respond, unsure of how he would take it. Xiao wasn’t the type to give long, comforting speeches - he dealt with problems head-on, swiftly and efficiently. You feared he might not understand, or worse, that he’d agree with you.

But Xiao didn’t pull away or look at you with annoyance. Instead, he stepped closer, his voice soft but firm. "You're not a burden."

The words cut through your haze of guilt, so simple and direct that it took you a moment to register them. You blinked, turning to face him fully. "But-"

"You’re not a burden," he repeated, his golden eyes locking with yours. "Your worth isn’t measured by how much you can do in a single day." His voice was steady, but there was something deeper in his tone - something resolute. "You are important because you are here."

You opened your mouth to protest, but Xiao raised his hand slightly, silencing you. His expression softened in a way that was rare for him, his eyes never leaving yours. "I chose to stay by your side. You’re not holding me back. I don’t see you as a burden - don’t ever think that."

The wind picked up slightly, rustling the trees below. You could hear the distant sound of water rushing from the river near the inn, but Xiao’s voice cut through all of it, grounding you. "You fight your battles every day, and that’s not something I take lightly."

You swallowed hard, his words sinking in, but the guilt still clung stubbornly to the corners of your heart. "I just… I don’t want to drag you down."

Xiao’s grip on your shoulder tightened slightly as if he could sense the lingering doubt in your mind. "You don’t drag me down." His voice softened further, almost a whisper. "You give me peace."

You blinked, surprised. Xiao, the vigilant Yaksha, who was always ready for battle, always on edge... peace?

"You’re always protecting me," he continued, his gaze now a bit distant, as if he were recalling something far away. "But you don’t need to push yourself so hard for me. Just... rest. Let me handle the rest."

You could feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, the weight in your chest lifting ever so slightly. "I don’t deserve you," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Xiao shook his head. "You’re wrong," he said, his gaze steady. "You deserve far more than I could ever give."

The lanterns swayed in the breeze, their light flickering softly against the wooden walls of the inn. Xiao’s presence beside you, solid and unwavering, filled the space with a quiet comfort you hadn’t felt in a long time.

"I’ll take care of things for today," Xiao said, his voice returning to its usual calm. "You rest."

And as you nodded, watching as Xiao turned and walked back inside to take care of the tasks you couldn’t finish, you felt lighter. The guilt hadn’t disappeared completely, but it no longer felt like it was crushing you. Because Xiao, in his quiet, steadfast way, had reminded you that you weren’t alone in all this.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Wanna Bet?

tattoo artist!Eddie x fem!tattoo artist!reader

word count: 4.9k

cw: some suggestive language

not proofread!

This series is being discontinued until further notice, but feel free to keep reading if you'd like!

part one part three part four

You stepped into your apartment and were immediately met by your cat, Binx. He rubbed his head against your leg and you reached down and scratched him right between his ears before heading into the bathroom. You flipped on the light and stood in front of the mirror, turning your arm to see your tattoo again. You still couldn’t believe how good it had turned out and knew that you were going to stare at in the mirror any chance you got.

Your mind drifted to Gareth and you couldn’t help but feel bad for the way things ended between the two of you. After he came over the night he did your tattoo, you ended up sleeping together that night only to decide that you would have been better off as friends, not having as much in common as you initially thought. You both thought that was the better option since neither of you saw a future together.

As if reading your mind, your cell phone dinged, signaling that you had a text. You pulled it out of your purse and sure enough, it was from an unknown number you could only assume was Gareth. Your heart raced as you opened it, terrified to see what he had said.

Hey darlin, miss me?

You weren’t sure why, but you couldn’t help but feel like that wasn’t actually him. He had never called you that in the two weeks that you had known him. A wrong number perhaps?

Who is this?

A few seconds later, your phone pinged again.

Who do you think it is?

The only person you could think of was Gareth, but you already had his number saved so it definitely wasn’t him. You were hoping it was that guy you had met at the bar the other night.

Brad?

You crossed your fingers as your phone dinged again.

You wish

Another ping.

It’s Eddie

You threw your phone onto your couch and took a pillow from it then shoved your face into it, letting out a loud scream. Of fucking course the only guy texting you was the one you couldn’t stand. You had somehow run into the man everywhere you went and it was driving you crazy. He was always finding you, following you, showering you with his flirty words and you were sick of it. Once you had composed yourself, you took a deep breath and reached for your phone again.

How did you get this number?

All of the possible answers came to your mind but none of them were good. Couldn’t he get his own life and stop ruining yours?

Took it from Gareth’s phone when he wasn’t looking

You could picture him smirking while typing out those words and it made you sick.

Well, delete it.

As soon as you sent the message, your phone buzzed letting you know that you were receiving a call from that very number. What the fuck was he playing at? It was as if he was trying to drive you crazy. And you were letting him get to you, falling right into his trap.

You hit the button with the red phone printed on it and shoved your phone back into your pocket only to hear the buzzing again. You pulled it back out and accepted the call, pressing the phone to your ear.

“What?” You spit.

“Woah, sugar,” he let out a chuckle and both it and the nickname made your skin crawl. “Declining someone’s call sends the message that you don’t want to talk to them.” He had been bothering you and had the audacity to be offended that you didn’t want to talk to him? Just hearing his voice made you angry. It sounded so grating, like nails on a chalkboard.

“I don’t want to talk to you.” You were telling the truth. You only picked up to put an end to the way he was treating you. You couldn’t take one more second of his teasing, wanting to finally put an end to it.

“Then why did you pick up?” You could hear the humor in his voice and desperately wished that you could reach through the phone and choke him out. Why did you always have the worst luck when it came to your love life? The men that you liked never liked you and the ones that did were always fucking creeps or walking red flags.

“To tell you to fuck off or I’m going to block you.” You liked the idea of holding the power to get rid of him for good. If he didn’t have your number and changed all your usual hangout spots, you could finally be free from him.

“Well, that isn’t very polite, is it?” Eddie wouldn’t know what polite was if it hit him over the head, but he just liked to screw with you so he’d tease you any chance he got.

“You’ve been tormenting me for over a week and I’m sick of your bullshit.” The man was everywhere, the grocery store you shopped at, the coffee shop you frequented, and even the bookstore you went to on occasion. It had gotten so bad that now his laughter was haunting your dreams. Because of him, you hadn’t been able to get a single moment of peace and quiet since you met the man.

“I wouldn’t call it torment.” He laughed again and your grip around your phone tightened as you let out a deep breath. That was what he wanted; to piss you off and you were offering him the exact reactions he wanted on a silver platter.

“Then what would you call it, Edward?” Eddie usually hated people using his full name, but hearing it fall from your lips did something to him. It made him feel some type of way, even if he wasn’t sure what way that was.

“Flirting.” You just scoffed at that. He definitely needed to improve his skills, then. How he actually got women into bed you’d never know.

“Then you clearly need to crack open a dictionary because that was not flirting.”

“Then what was it?” There was a knock on the door and you opened it, your friend Meg on the other side holding a bag filled with takeout from your favorite Chinese restaurant. You had been so caught up in your pointless conversation with Eddie that you had completely forgotten that you had invited her over.

“I don’t have time for this, I have things to do.” You let Meg inside and pointed to your phone, letting her know that you were speaking to someone and she put her pointer finger to her lips as she hurried inside, putting the food on your kitchen counter.

“Like what, dreaming about what I look like naked?” You pretended to throw up, making sure that he could hear you and Meg gave you a look, very interested in who you were talking to.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You scoffed. “Now lose this number or it won’t end well for you.”

“Oh, what are you going to do? Spank me? I think I might be into that.” As soon as the words left his mouth, the line went dead and Eddie threw his phone onto his desk, not being able to keep his laughter to himself. There was just something so funny about riling you up. He then spun in his chair, rising from it and heading towards the door of his office. He opened it and Gareth was on the other side. Eddie pushed past him and Gareth followed him out into the main area, wondering why he was so smiley. Eddie was never smiley.

“What are you smiling about?” He asked as the two of them exited the hallway, passing the receptionist’s desk. Eddie had been in such a good mood all week and he wanted to know why.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Eddie let out a chuckle as he got to his station, making sure it was all nice and neat for his next client. Gareth sat in the chair that was next to Eddie’s station, leaning forward so the conversation could just be between the two of them.

“Is this about y/n? Why don’t you just give it up, Eddie? Clearly she’s not interested in you.” He wasn’t so sure about that. No woman had ever turned him down and he wasn’t going to let that start now. He was thinking about what it could do to his reputation and he didn’t like the possible outcome. He’d be damned if he let one rejection ruin everything he had built him up to be.

“And she’s not interested in you either, so I guess we’re both shit out of luck, huh?” Eddie shook his head, putting away his sketch paper and other things that littered the small desk. Eddie had heard through the grapevine that you had ended things with Gareth and he was just trying to make Gareth feel as bad as he did.

“You’re just mad because for once someone didn’t fall for your tricks.” That was the truth, but Eddie would die before he ever admitted that. He saw your rejection as a challenge to try harder and he’d do whatever he could to finally get into your pants.

“And you’re just mad because she didn’t choose you either.” Gareth actually wasn’t mad, especially since it was a mutual decision to not continue whatever was going on between the two of you. That was the difference. You had actually wanted him once upon a time and the same couldn’t have been said for Eddie.

“Well, you know what, at least I fucked her first, something that you’d know nothing about because finally someone’s able to see through your bullshit.” Gareth didn’t always have a temper, but when he did, he really knew how to hit Eddie where it hurt. “And guess what? She’s too good for you. She’s sweet and kind and actually cares about the people around her, something that’s clearly a foreign concept to you.”

Eddie felt his blood boil at that. There wasn’t a single lie in what Gareth had said and that was what pissed him off so much. He was just a selfish prick who didn’t have any regard for anyone’s feelings but his own. And that was clear by the way he was willing to destroy everyone and everything in his path to get what he wanted. At the end of the day, the only person Eddie wanted to be happy was Eddie.

“Fuck you, Gareth.” Eddie stood from the little desk, pointing a finger at him. He wasn’t going to let anyone insult him in his own building, not even his best friend.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you,” was all Gareth responded before standing up from the chair and heading over to his own station.

Eddie grumbled to himself as he finished prepping his station, trying to get himself out of his bad mood before his client showed up. He couldn’t believe that he was letting Garth’s stupid words get to him. Maybe there was truth to them, but he only said them because he was upset. He needed to remind himself who the fuvl he was. He was Eddie Munson, a god in the tattoo industry and people were willing to kill just to get a sliver of a chance to work with him. He was hot shit and women were lining up to sleep with him. Fuck Gareth. He had no idea what he was talking about.

Gareth watched Eddie out of the corner of his eye, wondering what the hell had gotten into him. He wasn’t always like that; so selfish and rude. Once upon a time, the two of them had been best friends. But as soon as women were actually interested in him and he got a little taste of fame, he wasn’t the same guy that Gareth once knew. He was mean and seemed willing to whatever he saw fit, even if that meant hurting the people he cared most about.

—

“So, who was that?” Meg asked, as she pulled the containers out of the bag and set them on the counter. She had an idea of who it could have been by the way you were speaking, but she wanted to ask just to be sure.

“Nobody,” you waved it off as you grabbed some plates from one of the cabinets. You really didn’t want to talk about Eddie. You’d honestly prefer to talk about literally anything else.

“Was it that guy who you’ve been seeing everywhere?” After telling Meg about it, she had been invested in the whole thing, convinced that it had been fate. You weren’t so sure you believed in that sort of thing. This was just another one of the universe’s cruel jokes that was being played on you. That seemed to be all your life was these days: a joke.

“Yes.” You grabbed the container of fried rice and poured some onto your plate, trying to busy your mind. You were already growing tired of the conversation.

“What was his name again?” You were thinking of all the nicknames you had created for him over the past week, but those had just been an inside joke you’d keep to yourself since you were the only one who would have thought they were funny.

“Eddie.” The name tasted like poison in your mouth anytime you said it and you were desperate to gargle something to remove the heavy feeling from your tongue.

“I don’t see what the problem is, y/n. He’s cute, you should go out with him.” Meg just didn’t understand. Eddie wasn’t actually interested in you, he just wanted to prove that you were into him. The whole thing was a game to him and you weren’t going to play. Maybe that kind of thing worked on other women, but it wasn’t going to work on you.

“You know what else is cute? A dog. And you don’t see me going out with them, do you?” You both served yourselves from the containers then grabbed some beers from your fridge before heading over to your kitchen table to eat. All of the arguing with Eddie caused you to work up an appetite.

“You’re cranky,” she glared. She had never seen you like that so clearly it was bothering you. She didn’t understand why you wouldn’t just go out with him. It would have just taken one date and then he would’ve been out of your hair for good.

“I’m sorry. He’s just driving me crazy.” That much was obvious by the way you were behaving. You just wanted him to leave you alone, but apparently that was too much to ask.

“Let me get this straight; a gorgeous man has been dropped into your lap and you're not going to hit that?” Yes, exactly. Sure, maybe Eddie was gorgeous, but his terrible personality automatically made him unattractive.

“No? Haven’t you been listening? He doesn’t even want to sleep with me. He’s just trying to prove that I want him.” You picked up a piece of sesame chicken with your chopsticks and popped it into your mouth. You then looked back up at Meg and her face lit up as if a light bulb had gone off in her head.

“Maybe you could beat him at his own game,” she suggested with a shrug. You had no idea what she was getting at and waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you took a sip from your beer. Meg set her chopsticks down on her plate then turned fully to face you. She had her mischievous look on her face and you were unsure if you were going to like what she was going to say.

“You turn the tables, play an Uno reverse card, if you will.” Your face lit up as you realized what he was hinting at. Of course! You were surprised you didn’t think of it yourself. The answer had been right in front of you all along, but you had been too blinded by your rage to see it.

“Meg, you’re a genius!” You pulled her into a hug as best you could since you were both sitting. She wrapped her arms around you, giving you a tight squeeze before letting go.

“I do know what I’m talking about sometimes, y/n.” She turned back in her chair and took another sip from her beer. The ears started turning in your head as you thought about all of the ways you could have messed with Eddie. Giving him a taste of his own medicine sounded so fun.

—

The next morning, you texted Eddie and asked him to meet you at the arcade in town. The first phase of your plan had commenced and you hoped you could convince him that you were actually interested in him. Part of you felt bad for messing with his head until you remembered just how much joy he got fucking with you. He deserved to be shown what it felt like.

You spotted Eddie entering the arcade and applied some more of your lipgloss and fixed your hair before waving him over. He was dressed in a jean jacket over a faded band tee and a pair of baggy jeans which was more toned down than what you usually saw him in, but the look worked for him.

Eddie approached you and you held your arms out for a hug. He quickly pulled you in and you were surprised that his hand stayed at your back, not even trying to move further south like you had imagined. Not that you were imagining it.

He was unsure as to why you asked him to hangout, but he sure all hell wasn’t going to question it. He assumed you just had a change of heart considering that a few days prior, if he had been on fire and you had a glass of water, you would have drank it.

He was just happy to be there with you, willing to do whatever you wanted. And he loved arcades, so it was a win-win. He had spent so much time at the one back home, trying his best to get his name onto every leaderboard.

“You, know, I’m kind of surprised you invited me to hang out,” he said, letting go of you, letting his arms fall back by his side.

“You wore me down,” you let out a sigh. “I guess I just fell for your charms.” More like you were just trying to put an end to them.

“They always do,” he draped an arm over your shoulders and yours went to his waist as you led him over to your favorite game.

You stood in front of the machine and Eddie just let out a laugh as he saw what it was. You rolled your eyes and put in a few quarters, waiting for the game to boot up.

“Pac-Man, really?” He scoffed.

“Yes, really. If you don’t like it, you can leave.” Once the game booted up, you began to play and even though he had made fun of you, he had to admit you were really good. In only five minutes, you were able to get through ten levels.

He stood by and watched, mesmerized by the way your fingers moved as you stared at the screen, like you had memorized every single movement. He assumed that you must have played it multiple times to be so good at it.

Eddie moved to stand behind you, so close that you could feel his breath on your neck. It sent a chill down your spine and you were so focused on his close proximity that you weren’t paying attention, causing your little guy to get eaten. You turned around, not able to ignore how good he smelled, but stood your ground, giving him a glare.

“What’s wrong, sweet thing?” His hands rubbed your arms sympathetically. “Sad you lost?” He jutted out his bottom lip and you could practically feel it between your teeth as he let out a whimper as you bit down on it.

“You did that on purpose!” You pushed his hands off of you, pointing at him.

“I did no such thing,” he put his hand up to his chest in feigned offense.

“Come here.” You grabbed him by the wrists and pulled him over to a photo booth that was only a few feet away.

“Oh, looking for somewhere a little more private? I see you.”

“Get in,” you held open the curtain and Eddie moved slowly to get into the booth. “Go,” you gave him a shove and he eventually got all the way inside.

“Bossy,” he grumbled, sitting down on the bench. You got in after him and sat down before closing the curtain that was next to you.

“What?” He gave you a pointed look. You knew you were supposed to be beating him at his own game, but you couldn’t last. You were throwing in the towel after barely a few flirty lines and were beating yourself over it. Whatever. At least you tried.

“Stop fucking around,” you gave his shoulder a shove. “I’m getting real tired of your shit, Munson.”

“And what shit are you tired of, sweet thing?” He leaned forward, resting his chin in the palm of his hand.

“I guess I’m going to have to spell it out for you so your pea sized brain can comprehend it.” Honestly, Eddie kind of liked seeing you like that.

“Lay it on me, doll.” He was looking at you so dreamily and you were hating that he was able to tug on your heart.

“I don’t like you,” you glared.

“Mhm,” he nodded. “Go on.”

“Do you have any regard for anyone but yourself?” Eddie laughed at that. He didn’t think it was possible to care about anyone other than himself. It was better that way.

“No,” he chuckled, with a shake of his head.

“Thoughts so.” Of course that was his answer. He was the most selfish person you had ever met.

“What’s got your panties in a twist, sugar?” He leaned back, fighting back the grin that was trying to come out on his face.

“You call women those nicknames because you can’t remember their actual names.” That was true, but he had remembered yours. He hadn’t forgotten it since the day he met you and swore that he would never forget it.

“I know your name, y/n,” he rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s like you have no faith in me.”

“I don’t. Now stop fucking with me or I swear I’m going to make sure you can never walk again because your dick is so fucked up.” His cheeks flushed at your comment and he could feel his cock getting hard.

“That’s hot.” His eyes darkened as he said the words and you couldn’t help but feel disgusted at his behavior. Your insults seemed to only make him want you even more.

“Are you actually turned on by this right now?” You were constantly surprised by how much this man seemed to catch you off guard with his words. He always had something out of pocket to say.

“Depends,” he shrugged before leaning forward. “Why don’t you feel my cock to find out?” He winked and you hated how you kind of wanted to take him up on his offer.

“You’re disgusting,” you scoffed.

“You love it.” You actually sort of did, but you’d never admit that to him. You’d die before you let that happen.

“I wouldn’t touch your cock with a ten foot pole.” You couldn’t give in just yet. Just one more flirty response and you were sure that you’d want to plant one on him right there in the photo booth.

“That’s fine,” he scooted even closer to you. “You’d be surprised what I could do with just my tongue.” You could feel yourself getting wet just thinking about it; his lips on yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth, roaming around, making sure that he had tasted every single inch of it.

“Your ego is a little big, isn’t it?” It definitely was, but it had taken him so long to build up his self esteem so he wasn't going to let you get to him.

“It’s not the only thing that’s big,” he winked. “And you wouldn’t be saying that with my head between your thighs.” You could just picture it and now your underwear was more than damp. How were you going to keep it up if he was able to reel you in so easily.

“Believe me, your head will never be between my thighs.” Maybe they could be with just a little more convincing. One bat of his lashes and you’d be in his lap, your lips on his.

“You wanna bet?” You were convinced that you had accidentally ordered an alcoholic drink because you would’ve had to be drunk in order to think that anything he was suggesting was a good idea.

“Absolutely not,” you scoffed.

“Afraid you’re gonna lose?” He leaned closer, your faces so close that you could feel his breath hitting your cheeks.

“I’m not afraid of anything.” You leaned even closer, your lips ghosting over his before you leaned back, not wanting to give in just yet.

“I like that in a woman. Does that mean you’re willing to get freaky?” You were more than willing and wondered just how freaky he’d like to get.

“Sure,” you shrugged. “But not with you.” You were getting even more angry that you were imagining all the things you could’ve gotten up to between the sheets.

“Alright, how about this? If you fall for my charms after a month, I win, but if you don’t, you win. Winner gets to give the loser a tattoo of their choice.” That actually sounded very intriguing to you. You liked the idea of something you designed being on Eddie’s body.

“That could be interesting.” You crossed your arms over your chest, a smile appearing on your face as you came up with sketches in your head.

“So you agree?”

“Sure. So which arm do you want the hairy dick on?” He let out a genuine laugh at that and rested a hand on your shoulder.

“Let’s not get too cocky, sweet thing,” he patted your shoulder. “You haven’t won yet.”

“Key word being ‘yet’ because I’m so going to kick your ass.”

What you didn’t know was that Eddie would have let you win pretty easily if it meant that he got to see your smile. Maybe he was taking it all too far, but just loved the way your face scrunched up in that cute way in response to one of his lines. And the way it was so easy to irritate you and get under your skin.

“You really need to stop being so mean to me, it’s making me hard.” You looked down and saw that he wasn’t lying by the proof that was the tent in his pants. You felt yourself wanting to unbutton his jeans and give him a handy then immediately shook the thought out of your head, giving him one last glare before exiting the booth.

Eddie removed his jacket and covered his boner before following you, trying to catch you before you left. He really needed to win the bet. He never went down without a fight.

He followed you out into the parking lot, picking up the pace to catch with you because damn did you walk fast. He fell into step with you and you rifled through your purse to find your keys.

You had had enough of Eddie and his shit for the day, deciding that it was time for the two of you to go your separate ways. And besides, you had tattoos to sketch because there was no way that he was going to win with how stubborn you were.

You got to your car, Eddie hot on your heels. He moved to stand in front of the driver’s side and leaned against it, making sure his jacket was still covering his front. You were surprised that he hadn’t been embarrassed by it at all. In fact, it almost seemed used to it, as if it had been a normal thing for him.

“Can you please move?” You crossed your arms over your chest. Maybe this bet wouldn’t be as hard as you thought with how immature he seemed to be.

“Nope. I’m actually pretty comfortable.” You rolled your eyes at his stubbornness then unlocked the car, moving around to the opposite side. You opened the passenger side door and got inside before closing the door. You then climbed over the center console and slid into the driver’s seat before putting the keys into the ignition and starting it up. Eddie whipped around and gestured for you to roll down the window. You flipped him off in response and gave him enough time to move before pulling out of the parking space.

He watched you drive away for the second time and couldn't believe that you still hadn’t wanted to go out with him after all the things he had said. He was running out of lines and patience. If he was going to win, he was going to have to do something drastic. Something so unlike him. Unrecognizable. He was going to have to pull out the big guns, even though he wasn’t sure what they were. He was willing to do whatever it took to have you be the one under the tattoo gun.

[officiallyossy-haywooddent]

August 29th.

This is a fanfic / open rp starter so it’s kinda long. The writing might not be great, sorry.

TW for child death, loss of a sibling, minor mentions of bad parenting, minor drug use, minor toxic relationship

Every year without fail the week of August 25 was maybe the worst week of Ossy’s life. Every year they’d go through the same calls, same arrangements, same people. It never changed, even if their life circumstances did. Every year they would end up with a crown of flowers and a box of Halloween candy, completely and utterly alone.

It had been the same when they were eight and had been flown home from camp to give their testimony to the police. It had been the same when they were twelve, reeling from the loss of their brother and best friend and so, so many others; lost and alone in the middle of New York.

It had gotten worse when Ossy was thirteen, their palm sliced open over a marble altar, clasped in the hand of their best friend somewhere in the wilderness of the Yukon. Being fifteen in Gotham would be no different.

—

August 25.

It began, the preparations; the prayers. They called Frank first. Ossy hadn’t talked to him in years when it had first happened, he’d left the island with his mother to live with his grandmother in Vancouver, and they’d drifted apart.

A three hours on the ferry was a long time to travel to see someone, it wasn’t like they’d been good friends. They’d been five and eight, quietly talking in the forest behind their school every couple of days. That was all, Ossy didn’t think they’d ever speak to him again.

Then came the second war. He was there; they weren’t. He stopped by the med bay, asked where they’d been. They answered. He’d talked with them for hours, but he would always have to leave.

Nevertheless Ossy picked up their phone, dialled his number. They let it ring, once, twice. They hung up. It wasn’t right to bother Frank nowadays, and he hadn’t really known her anyway. Most people hadn’t.

They ordered a bulk box of Halloween candy. It would arrive in two days. They wished it would never come.

—

August 26.

Ossy’d found a place that did rush flower arrangements. They ordered three flower crowns, one for them, two for her. The place they’d gotten it, Belle Flore, was this tiny shop in North Gotham that imported seeds from everywhere in the world and grew all the flowers in a grow room above the store. The clerk, a red-headed guy probably less than a year older than them named Rhys, had been nice about the whole thing, suggesting an arrangement of Pheasants Eye, Prince’s Feather, Baby’s Breath, and Buttercup.

The combination was odd but sweet, symbolic. Buttercup had been her favourite after all. The crowns would be done in three days, the 29th.

Ossy would pick it up in the morning, flowers were always better fresh.

They spend the rest of the day asleep. The tranqs they’d gotten from Peter were nice, though they’d had to ration them out. They’d told him 2 wasn’t gonna be enough.

-

August 27.

Ossy sleeps through the day. They don’t move, but it’s fine. They don’t need to. Sleep is quiet, calming. Hypnos must have taken pity of them, each dream is an altered memory of their life before everything, a kinder one.

-

August 28.

The phone rings five times before going to voicemail, their mums soft voice letting them know to leave a message and that she’d get to it in the morning. She wouldn’t, not when she saw the caller ID.

“Hey, mum. It’s me. I just wanted to say I’m sorry, and I’m..I’m doing something for the 29th. You can always join me, I’ll pay for your flight and everything.”

Ossy pauses, taking a shuddering breath. It’s been a while since they’ve cried properly.

“…I miss you. And Grandpa. I’m sorry..about everything.”

They hang up quickly, regretting every second of it. She’d just delete it when she saw it, she always did. They leave the message anyway.

The package with the candy arrives at the manor, nobody asks what’s in it. Ossy doesn’t know if anyone even noticed it arrive. They request the day off tomorrow from the Deli, Mr. Maroni approves it. He’s been nice since he found out about the mugging, probably thinks they’re still scared of doing the night shift. They are, but they wouldn’t tell him that.

The night roles around and they pop the second half of a tranq. They don’t know if they want to wake up in the morning, sleeping away the 29th doesn’t sound half bad. It would be mean though, she would never have done it. She didn’t sleep, it was genetic. The gene had skipped Ossy.

-

August 29.

At 5:30 AM they show up at Belle Flores, it’s the same clerk, Rhys. He quietly hands over a pastel blue box with a subdued smile. He knows what the crowns are for, they’d told him. It’s easier to talk to strangers about these things.

Ossy stops back at the manor, grabbing the cats before hopping on one of the busses. They need to get out of the city again. Sometimes Gotham, with its constant noise and soaring buildings, felt like a maze. This then made them the rat, trying to find its way out before getting zapped.

The concrete held an energy they could never quite get used too. Ossy missed the blue pine of the salmon and rain forests; trees so large and thick they muffled everything within their shade, where oceans crashed against the conifered cliffs of their piece of home. They’d stolen that line from John Vailant.

The bus pulled to a stop outside a rocky beach. The cats had been quiet for the ride, good travellers. Ossy realized she’d never gotten to meet them.

They set up camp on a fallen log near the tree line, setting up a fence so the cats could be let loose to roam. Two of the flower crowns were laid side by side, the third resting on their head. It was good work, better than either of them had ever been capable of.

Ossy sat there for a while, listening to old songs they had long forgotten the words to, taking two bowls and pouring them full of the candy. It was stale, but that didn’t really matter. Stel had always saved her Halloween candy until Easter. They ate quietly, watching the cats play fight.

Ossy wasn’t sure how long it took for them to break down but they’d like to think it was close to an hour, a respectable amount of time to hold vigil before they imploded.

It was stupid for them to think they’d escaped it, moved past it. Not her death, no, they could never get over that, but being alone each year.

Not even having a picture of the family together. It was starting to get to them. Ossy would never admit it but they were starting to forget her face. People had always said they’d looked similar. They could never believe it. Stel had been good, so much better than any of the rest of them. Ossy would never be sure how she came from a family like theirs. Truth be told, they weren’t even sure what they looked like anymore, but that had little to do with the comparisons.

Ossy pulled out their phone, dialling half the numbers in their phone before deleting each one. They didn’t want to feel the need to explain it all to anyone. Deanna had told them to stop over analyzing their emotions, it wasn’t actually a form of processing apparently.

Finally, they landed on someone they wouldn’t mind calling. The gnawing sensation in their gut growing ever stronger as the phone rang, the soft click of the receiver letting them know there wasn’t really a way back.

“Hey.”

[thought-42]

Fictober day 4: No, we're not doing that

Critical Role, 776 words, Laerryn, Essek

Technically part of the Modern au, but all you need to know is 'generic modern au, Laerryn and Essek are queerplatonic hubris soulmates'

‘Knowing how to cast Fireball means never having to give a presentation to idiots,’ Laerryn posts to twitter, holding the phone in one hand while she brushes her teeth under the harsh light of the hotel bathroom.

She’d tranced for a grand total of ninety minutes, zoned out sitting on her bed with her tablet and her data-crunching laptop piled on her legs. Her head aches bright and sharp, but the barrier of caffeine from the bitter coffee in the single-serve machine on the desk makes it weirdly distant, easy to ignore.

She spits, splashes her face with cold water. The mirror is still fogged over with the steam from the shower, leaving her a blurry, smudged blob when she straightens up, flicking water droplets off her hair.

Her phone starts buzzing while she’s doing her eyeliner.

Essek has responded to her tweet with a fire emoji. Quay has texted ‘we talked about the arson. We’re not doing that.’ The president of the university has sent her a blank email with the subject line ‘I WILL take away your funding’, which is rich given most of her funding is external government contracts.

She deletes the email, sends Quay a picture of her blurred image in the mirror with no context, and messages Essek ‘where are you I need better caffeine and also for you to review my slides’

He responds instantly, because he is the use case for ‘young people and their phones these days’. ‘I was on a call with Verin. At the beach so he would be jealous. I am walking back to the hotel now.’

‘I’ll meet you,’ she tells him, and starts shoving computers into her bag.

It’s not that she needs him to review her slides, really. She’s leaps and bounds ahead of him in ley line mapping, mostly because New Avalir has some of the most advanced tech in the world and Xhorhas… doesn’t, and also because one of them got distracted by almost committing treason and one of them almost killed her best friend and surprisingly it’s the almost treason that interferes more significantly with your professional aspirations. Mostly she’s just feeling the usual discomfort of being in an unfamiliar environment with a bunch of people she doesn’t know but who still expect her to act a certain way. She’s not Essek. She can’t bring herself to play out the standard conference scripts. It’s why, the first day they’d met three years ago, she’d chosen to get drunk and argue with him, an actual stranger, in her hotel room for sixteen hours instead of hosting the abjuration mixer she’d signed up for.

Patia is on a dig and couldn’t be bothered to teleport over to Tal’Dorei for this conference, and Caleb still doesn’t attend academic events for fear of his mysterious past that she has only managed to pry bits and pieces of from Essek. She hasn’t even seen Essek yet, because his flight had been cancelled and he didn’t arrive until a few hours ago. She’d spent the previous day taking scathing notes on presentations and standing near the walls of the lobby and the ballroom and the restaurant clutching a glass of expensive whisky and not making eye contact with anyone and desperately wishing she did not have to be a person.

She’d texted Quay, but he’d been at his own thing, a charity gala hosted by one of the three-fucking-hundred Majesters, and his responses had all clearly been typed out under the veil of a table cloth. Evandrin was at the same gala as Quay, which meant he had even less time to spend on his phone.

—

She walks down the cobbled path leading from the hotel to the seawall for a good five minutes, mentally cursing her impractical shoes and taking pictures of the sunrise over the harbour for Zerxus, before she sees Essek trudging towards her. He’s not floating, but he’s not using his crutches, either, and his progress is slow and shaky. It sets off tiny alarm bells in her head which she quashes ruthlessly. It’s none of her business how he chooses to get around, and when she gets closer she can see he’s smiling a real smile, soft and almost peaceful. Rosohna and Zadash are both pretty landlocked. Living on an island sometimes she forgets that for a lot of people the ocean is something special.

“Hi,” she says, once he’s close enough.

“It’s so good to see you,” he says, soft like it’s taken him by surprise.

He waits for her to hug him first. It feels like the first moment she’s been present in her body in three days.

[shina913]

Stalemate, Part 2 | MYG

Stalemate (Mini-series)

Definition:  (1) Chess. a position of the pieces in which a player cannot move any piece except the king and cannot move the king without putting it in check. (2) any position or situation in which no action can be taken or progress made; deadlock

Pairing: Woodworker!Yoongi x Fem!Reader

Rating: M 🔞; NSFW

Genre: breakup!AU; toxic relationships; angst; fluff; smut; heavy drama

Summary: "The truth is, I'm not afraid to take that gamble anymore...in the off-chance that I get lucky again and feel the way I felt when I was with you. I'd happily make that bet over and over."

Word count: 8K+ words

Warnings (more written in individual chapters): ANGST; problematic exes; relationship insecurities; alcohol consumption; cussing; miscommunication; past infidelity (reader had an affair with a married man but not detailed); vulnerable confessions; jealousy; verbal confrontation; lots of crying; it just gets really dramatic

A/N: Okay so...now this final installment is just...ANGST...but with payoff (I think)??? Anyway, this is un-beta'd so I hope the story makes sense!

Now…

“You think he’s still butthurt about the whole thing?” Hyejin asks.

“I don’t know what to think.” You shrugged and took a sip of your drink. “I thought we had a clean break.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s what you think. Is this the first time you two have seen each other since things ended?”

Narrowing your lips into a thin line, you nodded. Her eyebrows lift in disbelief. “Wow…really?”

“Yep,” you say, popping the ‘p.’

“But how is that possible? He still hangs out with Namjoon and with the gallery’s construction–”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, Hye…somehow, our meetings with you guys never overlapped.” You figured part of it was due to Namjoon’s very meticulous planning.

Hyejin’s eyes widened. “Damn. And is it true that you both unfollowed each other on your socials?”

You let out an exasperated breath. “Come on, Hyejin. Isn’t that just sort of a natural thing to do after you break up? How many of your exes do you have on your socials?”

She grimaced. “Uhm…a few of them?”

Now it was your turn to bulge your eyes at her. “What?”

“Yeah. They’re still on my list.”

Your mouth falls open. “Do you ever view their profile, lurk, and see what they’re up to?”

“No, not like that,” she says. “They pop up because they’re on my feed but not because I actively seek them. They’re just there…it’s like a useless appendage or something.”

“But why even keep them there in the first place if they serve no purpose?”

“I don’t know. It’s just not a huge deal to me. I don’t bear any ill will toward them and I hope they think the same of me.”

“What does Namjoon think about all that?”

“It’s whatever. His ex is still on his list but it’s not something that keeps me up at night,” she explains. Then she gasps, looks at you, and remembers something. “Shit, I'm sorry. No offense, babe.” She reaches across to squeeze your hand assuringly.

You smile and appreciate her consideration. “None taken, babe.”

Hyejin smiles back. “Anyway, Joon and I have an understanding that all of those relationships are done. It’s about us now.”

You sigh in frustration, recalling how things went down with Yoongi. “I guess I wish everyone was in the same mindset as you both are.”

“Put it this way—I’m not bothered by it and neither is Namjoon. But if one day, he suddenly asks me to delete them off my list then I would do it, no question.”

“Really?” You did your best to hide your skepticism. Hyejin normally didn’t allow her man to dictate what she could and couldn’t do in her life.

“I would do it out of love and respect for him. If I asked him to do the same, he would too. It’s not about trying to prove a point or compromising your beliefs to please your partner. This person, whom you love, is setting clear boundaries. The question is whether you love that person enough to set a new boundary so you can honor theirs. It all depends on the situation!”

“I don’t know, Hye–you’re always so headstrong, though.”

“And so are you, YN. It’s why we’re besties,” she giggles. “But you know, when you find the right person,” she looks off into the distance and catches Namjoon’s eye, making her smile fondly, “…You wouldn’t mind loosening the reins a bit.”

You took a long swig of your drink. “Wow…you’ve changed Ms. Ahn.”

“Yeah, sometimes we need to embrace change. Although, I do miss my hoe-ing days every now and then,” she winked at you.

Truthfully, you envied her. When you and Yoongi were together, she would tease you about monogamy, yet she was always so supportive of your relationship.

You shook your head. “Well…personally, I feel like cleaning out your social media timeline is a way to move on.”

“That’s just part of it, babe. If a person wants to move on, they can and will…with or without social media.” Just then, she looks past your shoulder as something new catches her eye.

You turn your head in curiosity to find Yoongi craning his neck through the crowd as if searching for someone, until his eyes land on you. You locked gazes for a few seconds before he started moving toward you. You quickly turn away.

“Looks like he wants to talk,” Hyejin remarks. As Yoongi closes in, you see him from your peripheral vision.

“I’m gonna go check on Namjoonie,” she says with a small smile at you. Before she walks away, she gives Yoongi a quick nod.

Then…

After a marathon of morning calls and virtual meetings, you took advantage of the lull to stretch your legs and maybe attempt to have lunch with Yoongi. He’s been insanely busy with projects as well and though you stayed over at each other’s places often, you barely spent quality time together in the last week.

You emerge from the room and hear anxious mumbling by his workshop.

“Hey,” you poked your head from the corner to see him in the middle of a tense conversation with Namjoon.

“Hey, YN!”

“Joon! Yoongi didn’t mention that you were stopping by!” You walked over to give him a hug.

“Oh, it was just a pit stop for me, among other things I'm supposed to do today,” he smiled.

“Why don't you stay for lunch? I’m making–”

“That won’t be necessary,” Yoongi says curtly, making you recoil. Yoongi sees the worried expression on your face and tries to remedy it. “What I mean to say is, Namjoon was on his way out anyway and he just told me that he’s got a full afternoon ahead.”

You turn to Namjoon, who grimaces. “I…appreciate the offer, YN but Yoongi’s right. I’ve got a lot of errands to run. Maybe next time, huh?”

“Sure, of course!” You look at him and back at Yoongi and decide not to push any further. You already knew that one of Yoongi’s clients has been extra demanding so you were on a need-to-know basis.

You leave the workshop and walk into the kitchen to check the pantry. He hadn’t gone grocery shopping in a while so instead of trying to make something, you just pull up the food delivery app on your phone to order something more convenient.

“Jagi, is there anything in particular that you’re craving for?”

“No, baby. Surprise me,” he answers distantly, continuing his conversation with Namjoon.

While placing the order, you couldn’t help but eavesdrop on their argument through the divider.

“Bro, I don’t know how you could have just let the deadline pass. Jiwon placed the order months ago and I get here and you’ve got other orders getting picked up for shipment. Orders that were placed after hers. You said that it was totally doable–”

“I know what I said, Namjoonah!” He lets out a frustrated groan. “Look, just tell Jiwon that we ran into a supplier issue. I’ll fucking fix it, okay?”

“What the fuck do you expect me to tell her?”

“Can’t you figure that part out? Isn’t this why you’re the client relations half of this business?”

You hear footsteps approach in your direction so you retreat back into the bedroom and pretend that this was just a regular business squabble between friends.

Namjoon lets out a grunt of annoyance.

“Okay, look,” Yoongi relents. “Just stop stressing out. I’ll call Jiwon myself later to let her know that her shit will get done. Alright?”

Namjoon nods. “Thanks, man. She’s in a pissy mood. Better you than me.”

******

The weekend finally arrives and you and Yoongi have plans.

You were such a nervous wreck that you start to flap your elbows as if they were wings to cool your sweaty armpits. You were meeting Yoongi’s mom tonight for dinner. She lives a few hours away and rarely visits. She was looking forward to getting to know the new woman in her son’s life.

You make your way in front of the mirror, fluffing your hair and doing some final checks on your makeup. You lean in closer and flash your teeth, making sure that you didn’t have any lipstick stains on them.

“How much longer do you need?” Yoongi asks while he leans against the doorframe. Looking at his reflection, he was handsome as ever with his hair pulled back in a ponytail and a casual look. As much as you enjoyed him dressed in his coveralls while he worked, you always considered his date-night looks a treat.

“Two minutes.” You smooth your dress one more time and turn around to make sure that your skirt didn’t have any creases on it.

“We’re just meeting my mom for dinner, not the queen.”

“I know that. I just want to make a good impression,” you rationalized. “How do I look?” You turn to him and put your hands to the sides, presenting yourself. 

“Beautiful,” he says with a soft smile.

******

Your laughs ring through the restaurant after Yoongi’s mom make a cheeky joke at her son’s expense.

“Eomma…” He warns.

“Lighten up, adeul! It’s just a little joke.”

“Sure, ma,” he responds dryly.

She sipped on her wine and turns her attention to you. “You know, YN, I really like you! You’re just so…gah…the word is escaping me right now!”

You tensed up in anticipation of the next word that would come out of her mouth.

“Refreshing! That’s what I meant to say. You’re such a breath of fresh air!” She exclaims.

Your shoulders visibly relax at the compliment.

“Thank you, Mrs. Min–”

“Please, call me eomma,” she smiled warmly. “Let’s skip the formalities! Even better, we should get together for drinks sometime–” then she puts her hand up to the side of her mouth as if to whisper in an exaggerated manner to you, “You know, without Mr. Grumpy Cat here,” she mumbled.

You both giggle like close girlfriends while Yoongi rolls his eyes.

“I’d love that, eomma! Why don’t we exchange numbers after this and we can get something on our calendars?” You proposed.

His mom beamed. “Excellent! The sooner, the better!”

You smiled excitedly at how well you were warming up to Yoongi’s mom. You had a very different idea of how this night was going to turn out. The server comes by to check in, asking if there was anything else that they can get you. You picked up your wineglass and polished off whatever was left in it.

“Can I please get another glass of cabernet?” You ask him.

“Of course, miss.” He asks the rest of the table, to which his mom requests that her glass be topped off as well. Yoongi declines.

“You know, I should say–I’m shocked that Yoongi let you order that second glass of wine.”

Your brows creased in confusion. You cleared your throat, “I…beg your pardon?” You ask slowly.

“Well, back then, Jiwon–Yoongi’s ex–she didn’t drink much. On the rare occasion that she did, Yoongi made sure to cap it at a glass. She was always uptight, that one. Nice girl, very formal, comes from a good family. But oof…so uptight. Unfortunately, that’s Yoongi’s type though…” she remarks flippantly. 

Yoongi shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Eomoni…please!”

“Was there something wrong with what I said? Are we not supposed to talk about Jiwon? We’re just having a conversation here.”

You shift your attention to Yoongi’s direction, where he keeps his eyes low. Yoongi himself had never mentioned her name to you, but you knew of their history.

You’d heard that name before…it was the same name of the person that he and Namjoon were arguing about recently. 

Deep down, you sincerely hoped that those were two different Jiwons.

******

The rest of dinner goes on without any further awkward conversations about certain ex-fiancees. You bid his mom farewell and promise to give her a call to schedule a girls’ night when she’s back in town.

Yoongi, on the other hand, looks exhausted when you get in the car. “I can drive if you’re too–”

“Nah, it’s fine. You had a couple glasses. Besides, it’s a short ride, I can manage.”

After a few minutes of silence, you break the tension on the drive back to his place.

“Your mom is so adorable. I love her!” You beamed excitedly.

“Yeah, seems like you two really hit it off. I didn’t realize you had a lot in common,” he says wryly.

You laughed. “What’s the matter with you? Aren’t you glad that your mom and I are getting along well?”

“Of course I am,” he replies, still looking straight ahead down the road, his expression unreadable.

“If you’re happy then why do you look like someone just kicked your puppy? Was it because she mentioned Jiwon?”

He lets out a frustrated groan. “Please! Can we not bring that up again?”

“Is it because she’s a princess who doesn’t drink and obeys everything that you ask her to do?”

“YN, please!” He smacks his hand on the steering wheel. “Please…just…let’s not hash that out, okay?”

You hold your tongue and cross your arms over your chest, seething the rest of the way back.

When he pulls into the driveway, he turns off the engine, then steps out of the car while you remain in the passenger seat.

“Are you throwing a tantrum?”

“No,” you say shortly.

He gets back in the car and coaxes the information out of you. “Come on, what’s going through your mind?”

“I was just thinking–maybe I shouldn’t have ordered that second glass of wine.”

He lets out a sound of exasperation and grips his forehead. “Are we still on that?”

“No, really though…maybe…” you shrug, “I don’t know, maybe I should be more like Jiwon? You know, a good girl.”

“What is your point, YN?”

“My point, Yoongi, is…why are you with me?”

“Why am I with you? W-what do you mean?”

“Why do you love me?” You press him.

He stares at you, taken aback by your interrogation. “Why do I love you?” He repeats. “What kind of a question is that?”

“A legitimate one!”

He scoffs angrily. “I don’t have time to deal with this shit right now, YN…I’m stressed, and I’m–”

“Okay. I get it,” you huff. You grab your coat and purse and step out of the car.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” He barked.

“I’m calling a rideshare to take me back home!” You spat over your shoulder, pulling up your app to summon a car.

“YN, you’re being ridiculous!”

“Just leave me alone. It seems like you need a little bit of space. So I will give you that!”

At half past 1AM, your phone buzzes while you lie awake in bed. You picked it up off the nightstand to see Yoongi’s name and face flashing on your screen.

You second-guess answering…but you were the idiot who picked a fight with him. You press the green button and hold the phone to your ear, saying nothing.

“Baby…come home, please,” he begs you.

“I don’t know…I just need some time,” was all you say before you both hang up.

After another half an hour of pathetically staring up at your ceiling, you sat up and swing your legs over the edge of the bed. Like a lovesick puppy, you put on your sweats, call another rideshare to take you back to his house, where you crawl to bed and into his waiting arms.

Now…

“Hey,” Yoongi says awkwardly as he approaches you.

“Hi,” you say icily. You couldn’t forget the comments he made to Namjoon about you while you were in the bathroom.

“Uh, listen…I just wanted to apologize.”

“Apologize? What for?”

“Y-you know,” he stutters. “I didn’t mean what I said.”

“Which part exactly?” You ask him. “That I’m loud and bring too much drama with me? Or that I’m a bad cook?” You scoffed. “I used to cook for you all those nights when you had no time to make yourself a meal because you were so busy with work. You used to say that you loved my cooking!”

“You weren’t a terrible cook,” you counters. “I just…I was being stupid.”

“Oh, I know,” you tell him and laughed softly.

Moments of uncomfortable silence later, he asks, “So uh…how’ve you been?”

“I’m good,” you answer sincerely. “You?”

“Great,” he replies. “Are you…here with anyone?”

You chuckled at his forwardness. “No, but I’m supposed to meet someone in an hour.”

His lips parted slightly, “Ah, I see,” he smiled tightly. “Like…a date or…a boyfriend?”

“What’s it to you?” You smiled enigmatically. 

“Just trying to make conversation...and I was just curious.” He looked like he wanted to say more after that but he looks away and takes a swig of his drink.

“What about you? Did you bring a date?”

He shook his head. “I haven’t spent enough time with anyone to bring them to things like this.”

“I see,” you answer. “So, just casually dating, huh?”

“What’s it to you?” He returns your question.

“Touche!” You both chuckled.

“I thought you were going to start mouthing off to me and Namjoon earlier by the bathrooms,” he laughs.

You swat the air. “Old YN may have but…I’m a changed woman now.”

“Oh, really?” He asks.

“Yeah. You know, it’s been a while and I’ve changed my ways. I try to watch what I say these days.”

Yoongi smiles guiltily.

“Besides, I used to talk shit about you all the time so…I think we’re even now.”

“Oh you have, haven’t you?”

“Oh yeah…many times! A bitch was bitter back then,” you laughed.

“I’d love to hear this!” He leans in excitedly.

“Hear what?”

“Tell me what you used to say about me.”

Chuckling, you eventually relent. “Hmm…okay, let’s see.” While you try to recall all of the angst that you used to spew at Hyejin, you are briefly distracted by his fingers, drumming lazily on the bar’s surface.

You blink away memories of his hands and other things that they were capable of. “Well, my biggest issue with you was that you had trouble letting go of the past.”

“Interesting,” he remarks.

“That, plus you were a pushover,” you added.

He doubles over in laughter. When he calms down, he says, “So…I get too hung on up on the past and I’m a pushover. That’s why you left me?”

You cock your head to the side and turn serious. “C’mon. You know exactly why I left you.”

Then…

You drive down Yoongi’s street to find a sleek SUV blocking his driveway. You didn’t recognize it but figured it may have been a client trying to meet with him to oversee their order’s progress. Not a huge deal, you thought. You parked a block away instead.

You walk through the door with a box of pastries that you picked up on the way from your place. Yoongi loved their almond croissants so you grabbed a couple extra as a treat.

You caught sight of him standing in the workshop, deep in conversation with some unseen guests who were obscured by the divider.

With a big smile, you walk toward him to greet him. He sees you out of the corner of his eyes and a look of panic mars his features. “YN…hey.” He was surprised to see you.

You turn your attention to the two other people in the room–Namjoon and an unknown female who was crouched down, closely inspecting the legs on these accent chairs that Yoongi had tirelessly worked on for weeks.

“Hey, YN,” Namjoon greets you, while you are yet to be acknowledged by this persnickety client dressed in a designer shift dress and equally expensive heels. Her hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail...not a strand out of place.

A chill ran down your spine, making you wrap your arms protectively around your chest.

“Why are the legs uneven?” Were the first words you hear out of her mouth. “And it looks like a few of them don’t even have any finishing coats yet.”

Her voice was small, but firm in tone. It sounded like the type that was used in professional settings or presentations. It was also the type that turned shrill when provoked.

She looks at Yoongi pointedly, awaiting his answer.

“Uh, by the way, this is Jiwon, my client. Jiwon, this is YN.”

You arched an eyebrow in realization. “Oh…hi there,” you say a little too loudly. You stuck your hand out to her, offering a handshake. Her eyes flicked down to your hand while her face remained stiff. There was a slight wince in her nose, as if she smelled something bad.

Before you withdraw your hand in embarrassment, she clasps her hand in yours to shake it gently. “Hi. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too. I’m Yoongi’s girlfriend,” you add.

She smiles tightly and proceeds with her inspection on the products.

Namjoon stands there, breaking a sweat, seemingly stuck in limbo. The tension in the room was so thick, you could cut it with a knife.

“I brought some pastries, by the way. I got you your favorite, ja–” 

“That’s great. Uhm, could you just put in the kitchen? We’re a little busy here,” Yoongi says, while closely following Jiwon’s every move.

“Oh.” The shortness of his tone stung you, but you soldier on, marking your territory.

“Anyone want anything to drink? Coffee, maybe?”

“I-I’ll take one,” Namjoon says.

“What about you, Jiwon?”

“She doesn’t drink coffee,” Yoongi answers for her.

Jiwon turns her head toward you. "I'm good, thanks for the offer," she says, before continuing her inspection.

Your chest feels tight all of a sudden but you don’t make it obvious. Instead, you smile politely and leave them to do their business.

You move into the kitchen to set your box of pastries aside then set up the single-brew machine to make some coffee for Namjoon.

Distantly, you hear their conversation through the wall.

“I don’t know. I’m really disappointed in the quality. Even the upholstering is mediocre. They look and feel rushed." She narrows her eyes at him. "What’s going on?”

Yoongi nervously clears his throat. “Nothing. All that stuff's fixable,” he says evenly. "All I need is a couple more days to do it.”

“If I give you an extension, can you actually deliver on the quality this time?”

“Of course! You don’t need to worry about a thing,” he answers confidently.

“Alright," she says with a hint of reluctance. "How much time do you need? And is this going to cost me extra?”

“I’ll, uh…I’ll eat up the cost since it was an issue on my end. And regarding timing–”

“How are you gonna get this all done? Are you sure that you can do this?”

“Yes, I told you–there’s nothing to worry about. I’ll hire more guys and pay overtime. We’ll get this done for you.”

You notice how he doesn't mind calmly and patiently reassuring her multiple times, no matter how many times she asks the same question to him in different forms and verbiage. Meanwhile, he starts getting annoyed when you ask him what he wants for dinner multiple times, after deferring to you to decide.

She's seemingly satisfied with his affirmations, she relents. “Okay. I guess Namjoon and I can just circle back?” She turns to Namjoon, who nods in agreement.

All three of them walk toward the front door.

“Yeah, just call him. Or you can call me directly to follow up, too.” Yoongi offers.

“I’ll just reach out to both of you, I guess,” she answers dryly

You peek from the kitchen just in time to see her give Yoongi a lingering hug. “Thanks again, Yoongi. I really appreciate this.”

“Of course…anything for you, Jiwon.”

With that, your heart sinks to your stomach and you suddenly have the urge to vomit. You retreat into the bathroom and hurl but nothing comes out.

******

Later that evening, you were working late on the restaurant revamp contract. You had to place a call to your other supplier to make sure that their quote was still good since the client had asked for it to be adjusted, for the fifth time.

It was a good thing you’d work with this supplier for nearly a decade now. You pretty much had the owner on speed-dial.

Unfortunately, Yoongi was planning on pulling an all-nighter so he could finish one project to make fixes to the other project that he messed up.

“Jagiii!” You yell out from his bedroom, hoping he’d hear from all the loud banging he was making.

“Yeah?” he bellowed from his workshop.

“Could I just have five minutes for a phone call?”

“Can’t you just take your call outside?” He responds.

That was weird, you thought. You could, technically, take the call outside but you needed your laptop and documents in front of you in order to make changes in real-time. 

You walked out of the bedroom and into his workshop. “Please? It’s only for a few minutes. I just really need to sweet-talk this supplier so I can get this contract sealed.”

“No!" he bristles. "I’m so behind on this project already. Every minute counts!”

You scoffed. “Seriously? What’s five minutes? This project’s already delayed. Not to mention that your backlog is nuts–”

He looked up at you and snapped, “Exactly! Do you think my work is easy? Do you think any of this–” he waved his arm at the room, “...is easy?”

You chuckled at his abrupt change in tone. “What the hell crawled up your ass?”

He huffed out a breath. “I’m saying, that I hate how you think that I can just chill every time and pull me away from my work–”

“Woah-woah,” you stop him right then. “I never said anything like that. I’m literally asking for five minutes and you’re here getting your panties in a twist.”

He tosses the mallet and piece of metal sheeting haphazardly on his work table. He raked his fingers through his hair in exasperation. “See, this is why I can’t get this damned thing done–”

“You can’t or won’t?”

“What?” He asks, utterly confused.

“You can’t get it done or you don’t want to get it done because you want to delay it further? Because getting it done means the end of your contract with her.” You walk away from the workshop and into the living room.

“Are we really going to argue about this again?” He asks, still standing in his workshop.

“Yes!” You say loudly from the other room.

Seconds later, you see him round the corner and join you. “Why? Why do we need to argue about this? What’s the point?” 

You let out a sharp breath scowled at him. “I heard the way you talked to her! Going out of your way to pay your guys overtime, moving your whole schedule around to deliver her shit…and that goodbye hug?” You let out a pained, mocking laugh.

You held off for as long as you could but you were already deep into a jealous rage. The way he spoke so gently to her, trying to assure her that she didn’t need to stress off her order. Offering to cover the extra expenses, was too much.

“She’s a client and we just happen to have a history. So?”

His flippant comment further incensed you.

"That's the point! You have history!"

He groaned. “You're getting pissed at this? When it was pretty much the same situation from when we ran into your married guy.”

“My married g—" You scoff at him. "Now you’re turning this conversation about me? My past?”

“Well, yeah! You acted all weird when we saw what’s-his-face!” He retorts.

“Right, but in my case, that was the first time I’d seen him in a while. Have I seen him again since then? No. But you? You are working with Jiwon, day in and out!” You exclaim angrily.

“‘Call me directly…’” You say mockingly. “‘Anything for you...'”

“We have a professional relationship, okay? She is my client.”

“Couldn’t you get different clients? It’s not like you have a shortage in your backlog.” You countered.

“Jiwon has been my longtime client. I’ve made many connections because of her.”

You clenched your jaw and seethed.

“You go out to dinners and have drinks with your clients all the time! You come home late after partying all night,” he scolds.

“I am not partying!” You argue.

“Sure,” he says sarcastically.

“At least I was never engaged to any of my clients,” you countered bitterly.

He glared at you. “So she’s my ex-fiancee, big fucking deal! The operative term, being ‘ex,’ okay? What is your point here, exactly? Why are you getting all worked up about this?”

You stood up from the couch and angrily stomped toward him. “Because it hurts my feelings! And I can’t help but think that you still want her.”

“But I don’t! I love you!” He insists.

“Why do you love me?” You asked in a sudden, calmer tone.

“What?” He’s taken aback by how unreasonable and ridiculous you were sounding.

“I’m asking--Why. Do you. Love me.” You punctuate each phrase. “Why are you with me? Are you with me just to prove to yourself, or to her that you’ve moved on?”

“Why are you being like this? We’re arguing in circles here!” He yells out in frustration.

“Okay, fine. I’ll make it easier for you then. Let me ask you this–are you really over her? Because if you’re not…fuck…just tell me and we can put a stop to this craziness right now.”

“I’m with you, aren’t I? What else do you want from me?”

Heat prickled at your forehead and you start to taste bile in the back of your throat. What else do you want from me? Like he was doing you a fucking favor?

“What I really want to know from you is–why is it that my ex is a problem for you? So I ran into the guy. A guy whom I haven’t had any contact with at all since I ended things and still haven’t had contact after the fact? And yet, you expect me to be completely fine with you communicating regularly with your ex? ”

The silence is deafening as he’s despondent for a minute. At this point, the tears flow freely down your cheeks.

“Don’t you think there’s anything wrong with that?” You ask him pointedly.

“I don’t see it that way.”

It wasn’t the answer that you were expecting so you drive your point home. “And you wouldn’t consider breaking off a working relationship with your ex-fiancee even after I’ve told you that the amount of access that she has to you makes me feel insecure and uncomfortable?”

Yoongi shook his head slowly. “I just can’t drop a longtime client like that.”

“You mean you won’t drop her.”

“Please, just listen–”

“You know how I feel right now?” You interrupt him. “I feel like a shiny new thing that you’re just using to prove to yourself that you’re over her. It makes me feel like a piece of shit.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, a pained expression on his face. “You think I’m using you as a rebound? Is that it?”

“Aren’t I? Maybe you only liked me because I’m the complete opposite of her! You know, I’m loud, I like to go out…I drink…I’m fun…” You swipe at the tears that spilled out of your eyes. “I’m not the type you bring home to mom. Not the type you’d marry, right?”

“For fuck’s sake…can you stop thinking that everyone’s out to hurt you?”

“Do you really love me?” You ask him point blank.

He returns your gaze and held it there for a minute before answering. “Yes, of course I do.”

“More than you love her?”

He is dumbfounded by your question. It was unexpected but you needed to know…desperately. You needed to know to help put your fears aside. Unable to meet your gaze, he looks away.

His reticence told you that you were at an impasse. Locked in a stalemate, without any moves left.

Swallowing what felt like glass shards down your throat, you say, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” You turn on your heel and walk off.

The next morning, you packed up your things and left.

Now…

“So who did you love more, me or Jiwon?”

Growing flustered by your invasive question, he panics. “What is this, an interrogation?”

“Oh, come on…” you say in jest. “We’re just two people having an open conversation here.”

“Are you serious?” He laughs, his gummy smile in full display. “So I really have to answer that?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding? It’s not like we have ties to each other anymore. We’ve had enough time apart, time to think things through.”

“Why do you need to know so badly?”

“Because! I feel like I’m entitled to that information,” you say in a light, joking tone. Then, you turn a bit more serious. “Also…we used to care about each other at one point in our lives. I feel that I’ve earned the right to ask.”

He shifts his weight between his feet, taking a sip of his drink–you hoped–would help give him the extra push to answer. Except, he doesn’t and instead grins shyly.

“Still no answer, Mr. Min? Alright, fine!” You raise your hands in defeat. “I’ll give you easier one.” You cleared your throat. “Are you still scared?”

He finds your question humorous. “Scared of what?” He clarifies.

“Repeating the whole process. To start from scratch again–the whole getting to know one another…falling in love…only to be faced with the possibility of it not working out. We talked about that a long time ago, remember?”

His face visibly relaxed. “I do…very clearly, in fact, now that you mention it.”

“And?”

He moistened his lips and stared straight at you. “The truth is, I'm not afraid to take that gamble anymore...in the off-chance that I get lucky again and feel the way I felt when I was with you. I'd happily make that bet over and over.”

You feel your throat tighten in an instant. Your mouth opens to suck in a sharp breath. “Damn.” You start to fan yourself…now you were all flustered.

He kept his eyes on you. They wordlessly profess everything he’s been feeling all those years that you spent apart.

“And I agree that you’re entitled to know that I loved you more.”

You were at a loss. All that pomp and confidence that you felt had shriveled up at his confession.

“Well, you asked. So there you go.”

You laughed. “I know…I deserved that,” you say uncomfortably.

Your speechlessness makes him smirk triumphantly, making you both chuckle and effectively breaking the tension.

From a distance, the music fades under the chatter while Namjoon’s voice booms through the microphone. “Good evening, everybody!”

You and Yoongi turn your attention to the middle of the room, where Namjoon stood along with Hyejin.

“I just wanted to thank you all for coming out tonight. I’m so happy that I have great friends and partners who are huge supporters of local art. We have so much talent here that we need to foster and grow. I’m glad that we have a space to promote this art so that other people can familarize themselves with it and appreciate it as well. I’d like to thank my friends who have enabled me and listen to me whine about this concept for years–it’s finally happening! And of course, my fiancee–Hyejin…baby, thank you for being patient with me and supporting my dream. I love you so much!” The crowd gushes as he pulls her in for a sweet kiss.

“And with that, let’s keep this party going, huh?” Namjoon hands the microphone back to the DJ and the music swells once more.

Yoongi turns to you suddenly. “Do you want to dance?”

You laugh, “Seriously?”

“Why not? It’s the least you can do for me after I bared my soul to you,” he says.

You roll your eyes playfully at him. “Alright! Just one song,” you say to him.

You both make your way to the makeshift dancefloor and start bobbing your head to the beat. You sway your hips to the music while you both sing along to a song familiar to both of you.

As the music plays on, the crowd gathers around you, pushing you closer together.

Although you are hyper-aware of his presence and proximity, you continue to dance to the beat. You vaguely feel his hand on the small of your back, in a sort of protective stance while the crowd closes in. At a certain point, your hips were nearly fused together, and your faces were mere inches away.

And there it was, that familiar scent of pine and citrus. The memories you had locked away years ago had resurfaced once more–coming at you in a flash while you stared into his eyes. You felt yourself fall deeper into them. The inches between you decreased…and soon enough, the tips of your noses brushed against each other.

Then, you unexpectedly jump, startled at the sound and feel of your phone blaring from your pocket. You fish it out to see the name ‘Wooyoung’ flashing on the screen.

You decline the call but send a text message, saying that it was a little loud and that you’d call back.

You back away from Yoongi, suddenly desperate to enforce some distance between you two lest you completely lose the last shred of self-control that you were clinging onto.

Once you were finally away from the crowd and into a more open, quiet space, you say to him apologetically, “I have to go.”

He pursed his lips as if trying to hold himself back from saying something. You stand there, waiting and wondering if he would change his mind and just come out with it.

After a few beats of silence, he forces his mouth into a smile, then nods. “Alright,” he says simply.

You blinked slowly. It was a pathetic effort at a reality check for you. He said the right words and gave you the absolute closure that you needed for your relationship. A small part of you wondered what would have happened if Wooyoung hadn’t tried to call you. Would you have gone in all the way to kiss him?

Sadly, it didn’t work out that way so you’ll never know. “It was good to see you.” Your smile didn’t reach your eyes.

“Yeah…” he breathed out. “It was good to see you, too.”

“Well…I guess this is goodbye.”

You don’t wait for him to respond and instead, you turn on your heel and walk toward the exit. You tried to search around for Hyejin and Namjoon to say your ‘goodbyes’ but they looked like they were deep in conversation with another patron. You decide to shoot her a text when you got to your car instead.

Once you step out and the cool air hits you, you release one, big breath that you felt that you were onto for so long.

******

You sat alone in your car, contemplating the events that just unfolded minutes ago. You never thought you’d see him again–never. But, as fate would have it, your best friends managed to link up. How fucked up was that?

Your phone pinged, signaling a text. You lift the screen to your line of vision, seeing a name that was suddenly unfamiliar to you, with a text that said, ‘Headed to the restaurant now. Can’t wait to see you.’

You face falters at the promise. You sighed and leaned against your car’s headrest and closed your eyes.

What was he trying to pull back there? Making you yearn with all that talk about risking it all just to get a chance with you again. Who talks like that in real life?

Two knocks to your driver-side window startle you back into reality. You glanced over and see his cat-like features peeking through the glass.

You roll your window down and try to sound as casual as possible. “Hey! What’s up?”

He smiles shyly. “I…walked around the parking lot out back then down the block, hoping to still catch you.”

“Oh?” Your voice goes up slightly. “Haven’t had enough of me yet?” You tease him.

He chuckled at your cheekiness. “Yeah,” he sighed heavily, “I... didn’t like how we left things back there. You just ran off.”

You were incredulous. “Really? I thought we were good. I didn’t see anything wrong about the whole exchange. I said goodbye–”

“Yeah, exactly that,” he cuts you off. “You said ‘goodbye’.”

You chuckle awkwardly, confused by his remark. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to say when you leave?”

“I know that but…I didn’t want you to leave.”

Your stomach does somersaults. You close your eyes for a second to internally smack yourself in an effort to keep it together. “Uhm…I…I don’t…I d–” You stutter.

“I didn’t want you leave.” He repeats firmly. “I can’t let you walk away from me again.”

“Y-Yoongi–”

“I fucked up. I should have gone after you that day.”

You feel your nose start to sting so you swallow thickly and grip your steering wheel tightly. Yes, you wished that he had called you or stopped you from leaving. But after enough time had past, you just thought that whatever he believed then was stronger than how he felt for you. Thinking about it more, you didn’t reach out to call him either to talk things through. At the end of the day, you just thought that it wasn’t meant to be.

“We weren’t good for each other then.”

“Because it wasn’t the right time for us then. We both had shit to work though–I know I did. And I realized that I’d rather do this with you than anybody else.”

You inhale sharply, trying to choke back the tears while hanging onto your last shred of self-preservation. “You hurt me,” you barely whisper.

At this point, he crouches by the driver-side door. “I know. And I’m truly sorry for what I did. I can’t change my actions or my words from that day and that’s something that I’ll never live down. But I promise to make it up to you this time…if you’ll let me.”

You rubbed your eyes in annoyance. You were incredibly frustrated with him and frustrated at the thought that was another man who was excitedly awaiting your arrival at a restaurant a few miles away. You even jokingly imposed a stupid 5-date rule before sleeping with him, but he respected your decision and you liked that about him.

Tonight was the fifth date. The night he was expected to seal the deal with you–and yet, here you were with your ex, seemingly at a stand-off.

You look straight into his eyes. “I don’t think it’s fair that you would back me into a corner like this. That’s just not–”

“I’m…I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to lose my chance again. For the longest time, I kept telling myself that if the opportunity presented itself, I would take it. And tonight…I…I just didn’t expect tonight to happen. And I know that you have plans but…I just knew that if I let this moment pass again, then I’m no better for it.”

You pursed your lips, unsure of what to say to him even though a thousand thoughts were running through your head.

“What do you want me to do? What are you asking from me?” It was all you could manage to cobble up. You were a mixture of confusion and irritation. You just wanted him to be straight with you.

“I want another chance. I want to give us another shot because…I still love you.”

At that point, his admission pushes your tears off the brim.

“Please don’t cry. I don’t mean to make you sad. I just wanted to tell you the truth. I’ve been miserable without you.”

You waited so long to hear him say those words. For a while, you agonized at the thought, wondering if he actually ever loved you. If you were even someone worth choosing.

“Why tell me now after all this time has passed?”

“I couldn’t love you as the old me then. The old me who let you down and made half-ass promises. I had to get myself together.”

“Oh, so now you’re ready?” You ask sarcastically, swiping at your cheeks.

He stares at you earnestly. “Yes,” he says firmly. “It took me some time to realize that I was being stubborn. I thought that I didn’t need to change anything because I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong. And it took me that whole time to really get what you were trying to say to me….what you asked me to do for you.”

You let out a chuckle. “I’ve had plenty of time to think about that, too and realized that I was being unreasonable back then.”

“Maybe. But…the more I thought about it, I realized that you were asking me for assurance and I refused give it to you…when I really should have.”

“Look, I shouldn’t have questioned the way you ran your business,” you demurred. “I crossed a line—“

“But that wasn’t it, though,” He insists. “In reality, there was no other logical reason as to why I kept a longstanding contract with Jiwon. I was trying to torture myself because I believed that I could totally look past that history and keep it strictly professional.”

Years ago, you would have pointed and laughed at him, and done a victory lap on your vindication.

“I was completely delusional back then and I needed time to figure the rest of my shit out.”

“And have you?” You ask him.

“Yeah, I have…and I found out that I still very much have trouble letting go of the past,” he concluded wryly.

You both chuckle at his honesty. Minutes ago, you had your hand on the ignition, ready to leave him…again. 

“Yoongi…”

“I know, I know…I have the worst timing,” he says ironically.

It was the understatement of the century. When you walked out of your door earlier tonight, you had no idea that you’d run into Yoongi, much less receive a proposition from him.

You couldn’t argue against the fact that he hurt you badly last time. You wanted him to go after you when you walked out on him…But just the same, you had to work through your own issues, too. The time apart was necessary to do some growing.

Truth be told, you were perfectly fine at the start of the evening. You were having fun, taking trips down memory lane.

But there was always something about him. Something that no amount of time or distance would fully make you understand the hold that he had on you.

You had moved on from past lovers without incident. But you fell for Yoongi so deeply in the shortest amount of time. When it all ended, you wondered every now and then, whether the untapped potential of your relationship was what made that ache linger…or perhaps it was just him.

The tension is broken when your phone rings again. You glance at the screen and it was what-his-face’s name flashing.

You look up at Yoongi, whose face falters slightly but he relaxed his shoulders and stood up from his crouched position. He still bends down a little, leaning on the window frame.

“I know you have somewhere to be so…I guess I’ll just leave it at that. You can call me…or whatever. I just didn’t want to let this moment pass without getting that off my chest.”

You sighed heavily at the option he’s left you with. You glance at the missed call notification that flashed on your screen.

“Please get home safely, okay?” He taps his palm on the roof of your car softly and with a soft nod, he begins to walk back to the venue.

You were torn–torn by the sound of the unheard message alert that sat in your voice mailbox and Yoongi’s fading footfalls.

But deep down, you already knew what you wanted. Your mind and heart had already decided for you the second that you saw him from across the room this evening.

Now, all you had to do was propel your body to physically execute that decision.

You swipe at your phone screen to make the notification disappear then push your car door open.

“Yoongi, wait!”#

◤Part 1 | Main Fic Masterlist

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[tirsynni]

So the issue about the right to post criticism on people’s fics have come up again. Okay.

First off, the most obvious thing: unless the person asks for constructive criticism, be very wary about giving it. Again, please, keep in mind: this is fanfiction. This is a story typed out by a fan in their free time and posted online for others to enjoy. This isn’t a work that someone polished with the plan to publish for money. This is a fanwork posted by a fan for other fans to enjoy. Most writers I know don’t want constructive criticism. They want to engage with other fans with a medium they enjoy. “I really enjoyed this and I hope you do, too. Here’s an idea inspired by watching that scene.”

Of course, some writers do want constructive criticism. They ask right in their notes for it, which leads to my second point...

What are your credentials? When it comes to offering constructive criticism, are you confident in your skills to offer it? People tend to be, yeah... and then tell me what they would have written. “This is something I would personally enjoy and I wish you had written this instead.” “This does not match my headcanon of the character and you should have done this instead.” “You should have written the other character as the top.” None of this is constructive criticism. None of this is helping a writer improve. When these thoughts occur, instead of leaving them as a comment, consider writing the fic yourself! Seriously! Go for it! That’s the joy of fanfiction! You want to see something? You can write it yourself!

But really, what are your credentials? Do you know how to edit? Proofread? Did you take classes? Do you have a degree? In what? What’s your personal experience? Can I see your resume? Can you offer constructive criticism in a way which will improve that specific writer’s specific style? Can you help the writer tell the story they want to tell and not you? Because that is incredibly challenging. It’s easy as hell to tell someone what you would like to see in their story. It’s also the reason many writing circles and writing groups fail: too often it dissolves into “This is what I like, so you should change this” or “Well, such and such heard from such and such that this is really important for fiction.” That’s not how actual constructive criticism works. That’s not how you help a writer grow. 

“Well, if someone is writing and posting stuff online, then I have the right to criticize them.” Do you enjoy having so many free works at your fingertips? Would you like to see it happen in the future? Because while you’re free to criticize, that writer is free to stop writing. Writers don’t have to post. Writers can delete existing fics. Writers can and do give up because they are so excited to post their project online, only for multiple people to offer them “constructive criticism,” making them feel like shit, while many other people enjoy the fic but don’t bother telling the writer. 

“I have the right to tell the author what I like.” You also have the right to write your own fic. Which is probably going to be more productive?

“I have the right to tell the author their fic grosses me out.” Great. You also have the right to tell that to random people you meet in the street. Go for it. I personally value the concept of “don’t like, don’t read.” You did choose to deliberately read that fic, after all. That’s all on you. The author didn’t put a gun to your head and force you to read that work.

“I have the right to tell the author their errors.” Did they ask? Why are you so focused on the errors and not what you liked about the fic? I promise, if you tell authors what you enjoy about their fics, that will help them grow their skills far more than criticism. Getting positive feedback encourages fic writing, and practice helps the writer with those errors far more than random people on the internet.

At the end of the day, is your constructive criticism helping? And honestly, is that “constructive criticism” for the author or for you to feel proud about your awesomeness or for you to lift yourself up by belittling someone else? Before you gave the constructive criticism, did you ask the person? Did you value their opinion enough to verify that they wanted it in the first place? Fuck, did you even take the time to ask the person if they wanted a beta reader? Because if someone is happily posting their fic and they didn’t ask for help via a beta reader prior to posting, it might be because they’re more focused on the fanwork itself than grammar and the such, and that’s okay. If you can’t play around with fanfiction, with what can you play around? It’s fanfiction. No life or death seriousness to it!

Generally when someone leaves me constructive criticism, it isn’t constructive. It is that person telling me what they would have written in my shoes. You doing that isn’t going to make me write it. Hell, if people keep it up, writers might not write anything at all.

It’s very popular now to call writers greedy when they want positive comments or engagement with their fanworks. It’s also popular to defend the right to criticize the author when giving a comment. I would really prefer for these people to just write their own fic. Write what they want to see in the world. Maybe it’ll balance out all of the writers not writing because they’re getting hesitant about posting their works or feel too discouraged to even write in the first place.