#time to toss myself into the trash I guess

[astars-things]

hey! can you write a fic with y/n hughes x lando norris where they all are at the lake house and she takes a pregnancy tests because she's been feeling weird and it's obviously negative but luke goes to take out the trash and sees it in the garbage and tries not to freak out and thinks its positive but starts acting really weird and y/n confronts him abt it.

It was finally summer, and Lando and I had a rare week off from race weekends. We decided to head up to my brothers' lake house to spend some time with them before the hectic F1 schedule kicked in again.

Quinn, Luke, Jack, and Lando were all out on the boat while I stayed back at the house, enjoying some alone time sunbathing. As I lay there soaking up the sun, my mind began to wander. The past couple of weeks had been strange—I hadn’t been feeling well, I was more tired than usual, and I just didn’t feel like myself. I tried to convince myself it was just my period about to start, but the thought kept circling back to the “what ifs.”

Eventually, I couldn’t shake the feeling anymore. I made my way to the bathroom, closing the door behind me. My hands trembled slightly as I unwrapped the test. I knew it was probably unnecessary, but the “what-if” scenarios kept playing in my head. After a few minutes, the result was clear: negative. A wave of relief washed over me, mixed with a tiny bit of disappointment that I quickly pushed away. I wasn’t ready for that next step yet, not with my career and not with Lando’s demanding F1 schedule. I tossed the test in the trash, washed my hands, and splashed some cool water on my face. It was time to go back to enjoying the weekend.

I didn’t think about the test again. That night, I told Lando it was negative, and we just continued as usual. But over the next few days, I noticed Luke giving me weird looks. “Hey, Y/N, want to go on the boat with us?” Jack asked one day, but before I could respond, Luke answered for me, “No, she’s okay.” I looked at him, confused, but decided to brush it off.

After a few more incidents like that, I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I finally pulled Luke aside. “Luke, what’s wrong?” I asked, trying to catch his eye.

He froze, then finally looked at me, his eyes wide with what looked like panic. “Uh, nothing. Everything’s fine. Totally fine.”

“Luke, you've been acting weird and way more protective lately,” I said, my voice firmer this time. “Also, you’re a terrible liar. What’s going on?”

He hesitated, then sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t snooping, I swear. I was just taking out the trash and... and I saw the test.”

My heart stopped for a second. “You saw the pregnancy test?” I repeated, my voice sounding a little more surprised than I intended.

Luke nodded, biting his lip. “I thought it was… positive. And I didn’t know how to—”

I couldn’t help it; I burst out laughing. The relief and absurdity of the situation hit me all at once. “Luke, it was negative!”

He blinked, looking like I’d just told him the earth was flat. “It was?”

“Yes, it was negative!” I laughed again, this time with more assurance. “I’ve just been feeling a little off, and I wanted to make sure. But I’m not pregnant, Luke. You can relax.”

He let out a long breath, his shoulders sagging in relief. “Oh, thank God. I mean, not that it would be a bad thing, but…”

“Yeah, I know,” I said, still smiling. “But it’s not happening right now.”

He finally sat down, shaking his head with a sheepish grin. “You really freaked me out, Y/N. I was trying to figure out how to talk to you about it without being a total idiot.”

“You were definitely being a total idiot,” I teased, nudging him with my shoulder.

He chuckled, the tension easing out of the air. “I guess I was.”

[yanderenightmare]

what possessed you to write that nasty gamer boyfriend fic, not being judgemental, just genuinely curious cuz I love that fic and it seemed so vivid with all the detailing, did anything inspire you?

♡ GAMER BOYFRIEND

Yeah! A couple things actually!

I'd been staying with my brother and his girlfriend for a while. And while my brother is nowhere near the guy in the fic, he is a gamer who games a lot while his girlfriend does the grocery shopping and makes all the food every single day. So, I guess the idea first started with me just thinking about what a hopeless wreck my brother would be if she decided to suddenly leave him.

But my brother isn't useless or incompetent or anything like that. Nor is he a slob. He's just very comfortable with letting his girlfriend make decisions, I think. So this isn't a diss to my brother! Though, maybe a little...

Anyway. While I was staying there, my brother was watching a lot of Asmongold. I don't know so much about him, but from what I gathered by staying at my brother's place, he's this streamer who plays video games and discusses different topics of interest. But, more importantly than that, what I really noticed is that the guy lives in a complete pigsty. Like, the stuff I was describing in the fic is literally how this guy lives, and he's completely at peace with it, too. Idk, it's the wildest thing. He was talking about how, a while back, he had this dead rat that he didn't bother tossing out and that when the sun rose in the morning and shone through the window, the dead rat would start cooking, and the smell of that would wake him up and let him know it was time for him to stream. He called it the dead rat alarm clock. Like, I'm not even making this up.

I'm not really dissing him, either, though. Like, to each their own. I just thought it was the wildest thing I'd heard in a while.

And we were watching other Asmongold-ish streamers who just have the wildest fucking lifestyles. Literally just living in trash with cockroaches roaming around. Idk. Stuff is wild. But it got me to realize that, yeah, some people really don't give a fuck about hygiene and tidiness whatsoever.

And then, funny enough, my best friend's boyfriend broke up with her. And while we were dishing about how he wasn't good enough for her anyway and all that jazz, we were also digging up and talking trash about all her other previous boyfriends. And then she opened up about how one of them was a total fucking disaster. She'd been too ashamed to tell me this when they were together, but apparently, not only was he a hoarder, but she could tell he never ever cleaned his apartment because the bathroom had something she called "layers of sticky dust coating everything"

Like, it seems like such a common standard to have, but no, some people don't think cleaning is important at all. Or they just don't care enough to bother with it.

And, yeah, I suppose it just got me thinking about boys in general and how completely dirty their apartments are, with exceptions, obviously, and probably some girls included.

But yeah, the last guy I dated had constant shit stains in his toilet. And he had a pair of Lego flowers in there he was so proud of. And don't get me wrong, Lego flowers are cool, but they were always completely shrouded in dust, so you couldn't really enjoy them. And, you know, it's fine not to have everything spotless all the time. I'm not a neat freak myself, but I mean, if you're having visitors, the least thing you can do is make sure there isn't shit in the toilet. I don't know. That stuff is so wild to me.

But yeah, in the midst of all these musings and discussions, I got the idea to write that fic. I just really felt the need to make that character as he'd become so real to me all of a sudden.

[classiccowboy]

could you do something with joe based on obsessed by olivia rodrigo?

obsessed. || joe burrow

(this is my first time doing something that’s writing instead of social media, and it’s longer than expected. i hope you enjoy.)

*if i told you how much i think about her, you’d think i was in love. *

I’m not typically an insecure person by any means, but when it comes to her I can’t help myself. When Joe and I first started dating everyone online made sure I knew that they wanted it to be her. That they were rooting for the downfall of our relationship because they believed he was meant to be with someone else. It took a huge toll on my mental health in the beginning. And as much as I like to pretend I don’t think about it, it’s never gone away. I compare myself to her at every turn, think about her often, curious if he thinks about her also..

*i’m so obsessed with your ex, i know she’s been asleep on my side of your bed.*

Joe and I had been dating for a while and he finally asked me to move in. I was ecstatic, spending every single day with the person I love sounded like a dream. No one could take the smile off my face, except her. Joe had told me to use the bedside table for some of my things, he told me to make myself at home because that’s what this place is now. I opened the drawer and found a peppermint chapstick and some lightly salted almonds.

“Hey babe?” I say loud enough for Joe to hear me from the ensuite bathroom.

“What’s up?” He pokes his head out of the door, toothbrush dangling out of his mouth.

“I was just wondering what I should do with these? I’m assuming they don’t belong to you..” I mumble, I didn’t even have to listen to his answer, I knew who’s they were.

“Uh.” Joe is frozen speechless for a moment before recovering, “Yeah, babe just toss them in the trash.”

He turns back to the sink to finish his nighttime routine and I sit there lost in my thoughts. I don’t want to think about her, I don’t want to think about the love he had before me because it’s over for a reason. But knowing that she has slept on this side of the bed that we now share is doing something detrimental to my brain. When Joe steps out of the bathroom it doesn’t take him long to notice the look on my face and the items still lingering in my hands. He walks over and gently opens my fingers to take them and toss them in the trash. When he comes back he tilts up my chin to look me in the eyes..

“I’m sorry, I should’ve checked everything before you got here. You didn’t need to see that.”

“No, it’s fine. I just wasn’t really expecting that I guess.”

“It’s in the past, I don’t care about that anymore. I always hated when she was crunching on almonds at bedtime anyway.”

We both laugh as he places a gentle kiss on my forehead.

*I’m starin’ at her like I wanna get hurt. And I remember every detail you have ever told me.*

She wasn’t supposed to be here. Joe promised me that she hadn’t RSVP’d and she wasn’t on the guest list, but here she is. Sitting across from me in all her glory, She is laughing with people I’ve never met and I’m reminded that I’m new here. I’m reminded that they had a whole life together before I came along, a life that included most everyone here. I’ve convinced myself people are staring. Do they want me gone just like everyone else? Do they think Joe would be better off getting back together with her? He told me once that they always had fun at weddings, he said things were good between them when everyone else was around. He said she smiled more and didn’t pay as much attention to the small things when there was so much going on around them. That she was always daydreaming about what they’d have one day and the tension would dissipate for a few hours. I wonder if she’s wishing she was here with him. She looks up and a huge smile spreads across her face, for a moment I think she’s smiling at me, then I realize that Joe is coming up behind me. For some reason that makes me sick to my stomach, that she’s smiling at him like that. He gives her a small wave before turning his attention to me.

“Would you dance with me? Please?” He adds at the end with his puppy dog eyes. I can’t say no. He takes me by the hand and leads me out onto the floor. “Have I told you how beautiful you look in this dress?” He whispers as he pulls me close.

“A few times. But I’m not tired of hearing it.” I laugh

“Well you do, I’ve barely been able to take my eyes off you. Everyone loves you, they’re stoked that you decided to come.” That Insecure part of me pokes it’s head out again. Do you mean it? I want to ask but that’s not what comes out.

“Are you just saying that so I don’t freak out later?”

“No. I’m saying it because it’s true.” I give him a pointed look, “And so that you don’t leave and over analyze everything you’ve done tonight.” He laughs, leaning in giving me a gentle kiss. Out of the corner of my eye I see her looking over at us and I feel like smiling because I realize.. he hasn’t looked away from me once.

*She’s got those lips, she’s got those hips the life of every fuckin’ party. She’s talented, she’s good with kids she even speaks kindly about me.*

Torture. That’s what this feels like. It’s Sam’s birthday today and he’s having a huge get together. She’s here, dancing with some of the other WAGs. Joe always said she was the life of the party, I wish I could hate her. I’m still trying to recover from the sickening feeling of watching Joe’s nephews run into her arms as they walked in when Jess approaches me.

“You’ve been staring.” She simply states.

“I know. I can’t help it.” I huff out a sigh, finally taking my eyes off the shiny bright light prancing around in the middle of the room.

“Maybe you should speak to her, she’s really great.” Bile rises in my throat at the thought of that encounter.

“That’s the problem.”

“She thinks you’re wonderful,” She doesn’t know me is what runs through my mind, “She’s glad that you and Joe are together. She wants him to be happy, and anyone can see he’s happy with you.”

“I wish that made me feel better.” I finish the rest of my drink and step out onto the lawn for some fresh air.

*I know you love me, and I know it’s crazy.*

I haven’t said a word since we left the party. Joe keeps looking over at me like I could explode any second, I can see his hand twitching like he wants to reach out and touch me but convinces himself otherwise. After several excruciating minutes he speaks up.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about.” He whispers, his voice gravely from sitting in silence.

“I don’t think you want to know what I’ve been thinking about Joey.”

“I think I already know. I just wish you’d talk to me about it. Instead of keeping it bottled up inside.” At this point we are pulling into the garage but neither of us makes a move to get out of the vehicle.

“Do you think about her? When we go to things like that do you miss her?” My voice is barely above a whisper and I’m holding my breath, I know he loves me. I’ve never doubted that. I think I just need to hear him say that he’s choosing me.

“I don’t.” He sounds so sure of himself, like this is the easiest question in the world, “I think about you. Every second of every day. When I go to things like that I watch you, I get excited when I see you with the people I care about, and when you’re not there, I miss you.” He takes my hand and squeezes it three times.

“They all love her.”

“And I love you. Hey, look at me.” I tilt my chin so that I can see him, “No more of this crazy talk okay? I love you, I want you, and I don’t like the idea of you comparing yourself to anyone else. You’re one of a kind.” I know. I know. I know.

“I think I just needed to hear you say it.” I give a small smile, “I promise.. no more obsessing over your ex.”

[animemakesmeanxiouss]

TW: Cursing, negging, misogyny, sexually suggestive, maybe explicit?

"Are you really going to eat all that?" He asked, his face not really bothering to hide his disdain towards my meal.

I popped another french fry into my mouth and gave an exaggerated mmm before replying.

"Yeah, what did you think I mean when I said 'we should get some burgers and shakes'?"

"I just thought you were going to get, like, a salad."

This may be the worst date I've ever been on, but no way I'm going to let some guy ruin this delicious food.

"It's whatever, I guess," he continued, "So do you like heroes?"

Oh okay so he's making an effort to get to know me. Maybe he's not so bad.

"I love heroes! I think my favorites are probably Eraser," I said thoughtfully, "and Dynamight."

He hummed in response. Not a thoughtful hum, or an inquisitive one. One of those condescending hums. I sighed after finishing off my burger and washing it down with some vanilla milkshake.

"What now?"

"No, nothing."

I gave him a hard stare.

"I just think it's interesting that your favorite heroes are men. Aren't you like, a feminist?" He questioned.

I was stunned.

"Do you...do you think I'm going to fuck Dynamight?"

He shrugged and mumbled something I didn't quite catch, but quite frankly I was over it. I grabbed my food tray to toss the empty cartons and he dumped his onto it as well, without a single word of please, thank you, or asking to do the favor of throwing his trash out.

Once that was done, I excused myself to the restroom to freshen up and upon my return, saw there were two receipts at the table. One paid for, one not, so I went over to the register to pay for my meal. The girl ringing me up asked me if all was okay in the way only us girls could really communicate, and I gave a shrug.

"It's rough out here"

She nodded in agreement and wished me luck.

I turned around and he was waiting by the door, so I went to bid him farewell. Before I could reach him, he walked out the door and just as I was about to walk through, it nearly slammed in my face, making me jump.

Frustrated, I pushed through, ignoring him, and started walking to my car. It looked like there was a small crowd gathering half a block down from where I'd parked, so at least I wouldn't be completely alone in this rough part of town.

Soon enough, I heard footsteps behind me and it was him. Walking me to it was the least he could do after this poor excuse for a date, so at least there's that.

"We going to your place, or mine?"

Again, I was stunned. The noise behind me got louder but I was too focused on what this idiot was implying.

"Uhh, hello?," he started snapping his fingers in my face, "are we going to your place, or mine?" He asked again, slowly but loudly.

"Boy, what the hell are you talking about?" He looked behind me and then back at me about to say something, but I wasn't going to let this loser waste anymore of my time, "Do you really think after pulling that 'negging' bullshit on me, I'd still sleep with you? Why would anyone in their right mi-"

OOF! Something rammed into me and I heard an incredibly loud crashing sound and lost all thought for a moment.

I suddenly realized I was being carried in someone's arms, before being carefully set down by the idiot I was desperatly trying to get away from.

"Are you fucking stupid or something? Did you not hear everyone telling you to get your girlfriend out of the way? Or did you not see the giant fucking boulder about to crush her?"

None other than Dynamight was bitching at my date for leaving me in harm's way, right after he himself saved me.

There's no way this is really happening.

The moron stood there for a moment looking like he was going to cry, then tried to act cool.

"Oh, look, it's the dickhead hero from the news trying to be positive for a change."

Dynamight looked at him incredulously, and for a second, I thought his hands started to glow before he shook them off.

"Yeah, and I bet your bitch is my biggest fan."

Dumbass stood there looking like, well, a dumbass. What else could he say though?

"You're right!" I burst out laughing, "I told him your one of my favorite heroes just a minute ago"

This made Dynamight smile at me, while I pointed at the guy and corrected, "I'm not his bitch though. That was the worst date ever"

The hero raised an eyebrow before looking me up and down, before glancing over to the guy and tutting.

"You really fumbled her? Bigger idiot than I could've thought"

My cheeks turned red, but this gave me the encouragement I needed.

"Aw Dynamight, you're making me blush. Actually, I was wondering what time you're done patrolling so we could...go back to my place?" I asked, wiggling my eyebrows at him.

His smile was back, and he gave a quick glance over at the clocktower not too far from us before saying he was actually off now, just needed to finish helping arrest the criminals that were causing the commotion when he saved me.

"Whatever man! She's a fatass anyway!" The loser shouted at us.

The blonde reached his hand out to me. Confused, I took it, and he guided me into doing a couple of spins while his eyes ran up and down my body again before stopping, bringing my hand to his lips and kissing it.

"That ass is fantastic."

And that, friends, is how I ended up fucking Pro Hero Dynamight.

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Do not copy, repost, translate, plagiarize, and process in any way, shape, or form, including through AI.

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A/N: Got this idea from watching this video by fan0fthearts (yt/ig/tt). Many more to come because their art and concepts are amazing.

Also, I know this is terribly written but I needed to get it out of my head. Hopefully will rewrite/fix in the future

[changetyre]

Not like this (P2) II Charles Leclerc x Reader (Mafia AU)

SUMMARY: After losing everything you seek out your biggest and longest-standing enemy to finish it all.

WARNING: Violence, blood, mentions of death

A/N: This one's a little short but I really don't wanna rush this story and write as much as I can when I feel inspired and sometimes that means shorter parts ;)

Once again Charles was woken up by rattling in his apartment.

"Agh fuck." His initial fight response was calmed as soon as he heard your voice.

He got up not bothering to change and simply put a gun in his pocket before walking out.

"Did you just come here to trash my place? is that it?" Charles asked as soon as he spotted you in the kitchen.

"hmm I would've set fire to the place if I had it my way but I guess this'll do for now." you smiled cockily as you took a sip of the coffee you had prepared yourself.

"You couldn't have made me one?" Charles asked as he shoved past you not caring about the fact that he hurt you and your fresh wound in the process.

"I told you to kill me yesterday and you chose not to so it's your own fault you're having to deal with me." You shrugged unbothered as you proceeded to shove him out of the way too looking for something to eat.

"Can you stop destroying my kitchen?!" Charles asked loudly. "Get lost for a second I'll call you when the food is ready," Charles instructed.

"Damn, you are grumpy in the morning." You laughed only moving to a stool on the kitchen island and watching him move with ease through the space.

"I'm not exactly happy about having you around so that might have something to do with it." He spoke as he continued with his task.

"You know I thought you'd have someone doing this for you, I know I did and why isn't your place bigger?" You asked not caring if you were bothering the man.

"Less people, more control. Less space, less possibility of someone entering without me noticing...more control." He explained.

"Hmm, obviously that logic didn't work, did it? I'm here." You laughed earning a glare from Charles which only made you feel prouder.

"I shouldn't be talking to you anyway, how do I know you're not lying and this is all just bullshit?" Charles asked.

"So what do you think I just shot myself and came to your apartment as part of some plan or something?" You asked in a mock tone.

"Wouldn't put it past you." He quickly replied.

"Yeah...although smart that's not what happened. And If that had been the plan I would've just killed you easily." You shrugged.

"Easily?" Charles laughed this time.

"Yeah." Charles turned when he heard the cock of a gun. "Easily." He looked stunned as you pointed his own gun at him.

He felt in his pocket noticing his gun wasn't there and in fact in your hands.

"If I really wanted to kill you, Charles...I would've already." You put the gun down on the counter and tossed it to him.

"So why haven't you?" Charles took his gun back now redirecting your own question from last night back to you.

This time you were left silenced. "If I kill you...it'll be after a fair fight." You stole his own answer.

"Huh." Charles found humor in it.

"I'm going back to my place tonight...If you're not gonna kill me then I need to find answers." Your smile dropped, thinking about what you could possibly find.

"How do you know they won't still be there?" Charles asked as he plated yours and his breakfast but once he looked up at where you sat you were no longer there.

"I don't." He jumped suddenly hearing you behind him grabbing a knife...and fork from his cupboard. "But I know the place...and I'm the best at moving through a space unnoticed." You winked trying to get in his head.

[gretavangroupie]

The Ripe and The Ruin (Chapter 7)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader, OC x Reader

Word Count: 10.2k

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Anxiety, Allusions to Cheating, Lying, Jealousy, Sexual Themes, Crying.

Find the Playlist Here: Apple Music | Spotify

A new series in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.

A/N: Thanks so much for waiting for us while we took our little break. We had the absolute best time at our shows. We plotted and schemed most of the week and there really is quite a bit of exciting new things on the horizon, so keep your eyes peeled.

"Like all good fruit, the balance of life is in the ripe and ruin."

DUBLIN, IRELAND

HER POV

“There,” you whispered, putting the final touches on the food display. You gathered up the empty boxes and trash and made your way out the back door of the venue to dispose of them. You hoped you wouldn’t see anyone along the way, keeping your AirPods in as a public declaration to leave you alone.

You’d thrown yourself into work the last week, doing things that didn’t even fall under your scope of work just to fill the time. Your phone was on mute, but that didn't stop the calls. The texts. The songs. They all still came, but you paid them no mind. You couldn’t. You couldn’t be that girl. You couldn’t be the one to ruin a relationship. 

You hadn’t spoken to Jake since the friend request came through. You still hadn’t even accepted it. You didn’t know if you even should. She obviously knew who you were, and that alone scared you more than anything. How did she know?

You hadn’t spoken to Josh either. He had done his best to avoid you since that night in the bar, his look more than disappointed as he walked away. You felt a twinge of regret that you’d let him down, but you and Jake were nothing, and he has a girlfriend. He should be more mad at Jake than you. 

A call rings through your AirPods, the robotic voice alerting you to Ruth’s Facetime call. You make the split second decision to accept it, pulling your phone from your pocket and tapping the green button. 

“Hello,” you answer, shielding your face from the sun. 

“God, it’s so weird that it’s sunset there and I’m just now eating breakfast,” she says, taking a bite of a bagel. 

“Babes it’s literally what, noon there? Why are you just now eating breakfast?”

“Ugh, this isn’t about me, quit changing the subject,” she gripes.

“What?! I just–”

“Did you accept it yet?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“No! Are you insane! Why would I do that! Then she would know that I know who she is, and then she would know that I know she knows who I am!” you shout. 

“Yeah, I…am not even gonna try to decipher what you just said,” she says, shaking the ice in her coffee. 

“Ruth! Ugh!”

“What!? I’d accept it, you have nothing to hide. It’s not like you’re posting about him.”

“But–”

“But what? Show her you’re a hot bitch and she should be scared!” she laughs, tilting her head side to side. 

“You are actually a terrible influence,” you scoff. 

“Fine, what about McSexy,” she says, slurping up the last bits of coffee through her straw.

“Are you done with that yet? GOD.”

“You’re so dramatic,” she laughs, tossing it into the trash. “Spill about Beefy McGuns before I throw myself off a cliff.”

“Yeah I am the dramatic one,” you sigh, rolling your eyes. “Murph is…well, he’s good I guess. We have been hanging out a little bit since… ya know. We snuck into the hotel pool a few days ago, got Gelato night before last and last night we went to Temple Bar because the guys had an outing thing.”

“Okay, so you and McDouble are like kinda hot and heavy courting,” she asks. 

“Please don’t call him McDouble, that is gross. I mean, courting sounds kinda…more serious than it is. We are just hanging out.”

“A lot.”

“Yeah, kind of a lot,” you admit. 

“Do you like him more than Mr. Pene-Traitor?”

“RUTH ANNE!” you shout, trying to stifle back laughter. 

“Answer the question,” she snaps. 

“No! I don’t know! I mean, I like them equally for different reasons,” you answer.

“Well who is better in the sack?”

“Um…”

“Oh my god, you haven't slept with McSexy yet?” she asks, mouth gaping open.

“No! It hasn’t…gone there yet,” you reply. 

“Yet…So you intend for it to…” she smirks. 

“Well, I wouldn’t hate it,” you laugh. “I’m kinda like not planning to sleep with Jake again after all this shit. Murph seems less…complicated. He’s fun, and respectful, and we just mesh so well when we hangout. We have a lot in common and it’s just so easy. It’s not serious or anything but I’m trying to see where this thing goes.”

“So guitar daddy is out, officially…”

“Jesus Christ, Ruth.” you sigh, “I mean I haven't spoken to him in almost a week now. I’ve been ignoring every attempt and conveniently finding myself in the opposite room as him. I don't know what to even say to him without exploding so I have just been saying nothing.”

“Has he added any songs or anything?” she asks, quirking a brow. 

“A few but I haven’t replied,” you answer. 

“Oh I bet it’s eating him up, too.”

You shrug your shoulders as you see the back door open, Sam stepping out to light up a cigarette. 

“Hey, I gotta go, the family unit is present,” you say quietly nodding your head to the side. 

“Okay, well, personally I think you should accept her request. I’d think it's more suspicious that you haven’t if I were her. Maybe she just wants to talk.”

“I will think about it,” you say, pursing your lips. “I’ll text you later, okay?”

“Alright alright, and don’t forget my souvenir. I want one with sandy brown hair, blue eyes and an Irish accent.”

“You are actually so annoying.”

Your phone dings in your ear as a text flashes across the screen. 

“Oh shit,” you gasp. “It’s Murph.”

“What's up McBeefy?!” Ruth shouts. 

You open the text, reading it over quickly as a smile crosses your face. 

“Oh okay, why are you blushing Y/N? Huh, huh? Why you smiling like that?”

“So, he just said that The Black Keys are going to be in Glasgow on our day off next week,” you say, a little shocked. 

“As in The Black Keys that you’ve loved your whole life Black Keys?”

“Those would be the ones…”

You

6:02PM: How did you know I love them?

Murph

6:03PM: Just had a feeling 😉

Murph

6:04PM: I’m gonna tell the guys, I’m sure they will want to go. 

You

6:05PM: I definitely want to go.

Murph

6:06PM: Well good thing I just bought us tickets

“Hello?! Earth to Y/N!” Ruth shouts, and truthfully you forgot she was on the line. 

“Fuck, sorry,” you say, reopening Facetime.

“What did you say?!”

“I told him I want to go and he said he already bought us tickets,” you smile. 

“Mmhm, yeah it’s not serious at all though,” she mocks. 

“Gotta go! Love you bye!” you smile, ending the call and shoving your phone into your pocket.

You nod to Sam as you walk back into the building, making your way back into the greenroom to finish up. Your music begins to play through your AirPods again, and you feel a sense of calmness now that you’ve gotten a little reassurance from Ruth. You tidy up the room a bit, grabbing a few empty cans and chip bags and banishing them to the trash can that is seemingly invisible to these four men.

Just as you turn around you see Jake stepping into the room with his eyes on you. 

Fuck. 

You jump back a bit in shock, watching as he throws his hands up in innocence.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, a guilty look on his face. 

You pull your earbuds from your ears and place them in their case as you lean against the wall behind you. “It’s fine. What’s up?” you ask, trying to seem casual. 

“You think we can talk for a second?” he asks, rubbing his fingers over his chin. 

“Um, right now? I’m just finishing this up?” you counter, not really feeling like this is the best time for, well, this. 

He walks over to the small couch, tapping the spot next to him, “Please, just for a second.”

His brown eyes lock with yours and you know there is no way you can deny him. He had that effect on you. You nod and walk over to him, sitting next to him. Maybe this is it. 

You watch as he pulls in a deep breath as if trying to organize the thoughts in his head. He swallows nervously and turns his gaze to you. 

“You know, this last week has been…well, to be honest, it’s been complete shit,” he starts, locking his fingers together. “We went from seeing each other nearly every day and texting and everything to…whatever this is. Not speaking…”

You nod your head, wanting to hear his piece before giving your own. 

“I miss you. I’ve missed you a lot. I have hated every second of this silence and I would very much like to get things back to how they were before… all of this.”

Did Josh not tell him about Murph? Surely he had…

His hand reaches for yours, grabbing it in his own as he continues and you are praying he is ready to come clean. 

JAKE POV

“I know I’ve been a total and complete asshole, Y/N, and you don’t deserve that. That’s not me,” you go on, squeezing her hands in yours. Your voice continues to crack, and the emotion you feel while telling her all this actually surprises you. It’s hard to talk to her, hard to get things out. But you only know that it is because you’re positive that it all means something bigger. Your internal alarm clock is ticking, you can feel the time to get on stage is drawing closer and closer. “I just want you to know how sorry I am.”

“Jake, listen. I appreciate your apology, but I'm still not even sure what you’re sorry for? I mean, I know shit went sideways but, you never even told me why…” she goes on, pure confusion painting her expression. “I know that I was and am being left in the dark about something, and I don’t want to end up looking like the idiot.”

“Fuck, I know,” you say, rubbing a hand over your face. You can feel the bile swirling in your stomach as you prepare to speak again. “If you… I want to talk to you some more, and explain myself, but…”

“...You go on in like fifteen minutes and you aren’t even dressed yet,” she answers.

You nod, sucking in your bottom lip. Her eyes are glazed over, not with tears, but with some other overwhelming sentiment. Your voice shakes as you go on. “If you’re willing to hear me out, I have a long story I want to tell you.”

She takes a second to consider, and you know that she could just as easily tell you to fuck off, get away from her, and to never speak to her again. But instead she nods, meeting your eyes with pity. “It’s hard saying yes to this Jake, I’m not gonna lie…”

“I know it is. I know it, I’m so sorry, I’m just. You deserve to hear it all. From me,” you beg. The anxiety of it all is making you dizzy, and you hadn’t even told her anything yet. But you’re positive that when the time comes, it will all be worth it. She’s worth it. 

“Please trust me.”

She nods again. “Just…come to my room after the show?”

“I’ll be there,” you agree with a smile, and you feel the faintest hint of positivity, a tiny flame burning at the end of the tunnel. 

—

After an electric show, you dab the towel across your forehead and neck, wiping away the heavy sweat beads that continue to pour down. 

“Just keeps getting better and better, guys!” Paul compliments you as you pass by, making your way down the hall to the green room. 

“Thanks, man. Appreciate you,” you reply with a pat to his shoulder.

“Daniel, you hitting the shower?” you ask as you watch him take a seat on a red leather chair.

“Mm, here in a few, gonna have a drink first.” He pulls Mia over by the hand to sit on his lap, playfully wiping his sweat-covered arm across her face. “Where are Josh and Sam?”

You quietly walk over to the craft table, giving Y/N a sweet glance as you grab a mini bag of chips from the box, watching as she and Ty fiddle around with whatever random food is displayed across the table. “I dunno, they seemed like they were bickering all night, did you notice that?”

“Mmmhm,” Danny says through a long drink of a seltzer. “I could literally see the fuckin’ blurry tension between them, who the hell knows. He say anything to you, Ly?”

“Mmm, nope. Didn’t say anything to me…” Lyla avoids his gaze. You glance to Ty, and he offers you the same answer.

Just then, Josh and Sam burst through the door in a huffed mess of antics, yelling obscenities at one another as Josh’s hands fly up in the air around him. These two rarely fight, but every once in a while, one of them will get under the other’s skin. And sometimes it’s even worse, when they both manage to piss the other off so profusely, things can sometimes get physical. 

Josh’s voice is raised, and Sam’s face and neck are blotched red. You know that whatever it is, it isn’t good. 

“How about you stay the hell out of my face and sit the fuck down somewhere, huh?” Sam yells, grabbing a White Claw from the mini fridge and chugging it all almost in one drink. Your eyes dart directly to Danny who is just as stunned as you are, and equally as confused. 

“I’ll sit the fuck down when you stop running your fucking mouth, Sam,” Josh barks.

“Whoa, whoa, what the hell is going on?” you ask, moving toward them.

“Oh nothing, nothing, brother. Nothing at all,” Sam huffs, fury raging from him. You watch his eyeliner-covered eyes skitter across the room and finally land on Y/N, glaring at her from his peripheral. What the fuck?

For some reason, just his look pisses you off. 

“Not nothing, the fuck is your problem?” you ask him again, shooting your eyes between him and Josh. You see Mia rise up from Danny’s lap, joining Lyla on the couch. They sit closely together, and you swear they’re both biting back laughs. 

You finally move your eyes to Josh, giving him a stern look only the two of you can understand. ‘You got something to say?’ you ask him in your mind. 

He replies with an eye roll, shrugging his shoulders as he slips his stage jacket off. Josh is biting his tongue, you can tell, and the look in his eye is one you’ve seen often. With whatever rage he’s harboring mixed with the however many fireball shots he’s taken tonight, this could get bad. 

You look at Danny, as he knows the heavy feeling in the room all too well, too. You mentally ask him for backup.

Danny stands and clears his throat. “Uh, so… we going out tonight? We’re wasting moonlight if so…”

You jump in and agree. “Yeah, yeah let’s go grab a Guinness or something.” The room stays quiet as you and Danny make moves to get going, but the heaviness is still there. You decide to turn the attention elsewhere. “Y/N, Ty, you coming out with us?”

You can tell that Y/N feels like she’s invading the awkward encounter that’s currently happening in the room, just from her body language. 

“Yeah, um, sure… I suppose…” she says meekly. You offer her a little grin of reassurance.

“Oh, you mean you’re not hanging out with Murph tonight? Shocking!” Josh interjects, the tone of his voice menacing. Your head shoots to him. 

Y/N shakes her head, her entire demeanor falling. “Uh, no? No, why would I…” she stammers. 

“Just figured,” Josh continues, “You guys seemed pretty cozy the other night when I caught you making out at the bar in Paris, just thought you’d be continuing the festivities!”

“Josh!” Ty yells.

Hold…the fuck…on…

Your ears go deaf as you process Josh’s words, all the blood draining from your body, your extremities numb, your throat instantly dry. What the fuck. What the fuck??? He’s lying… That’s not true… she wouldn’t…

You hear a collective snicker from Mia and Lyla, both of them obviously loving whatever fucking show is happening right now. 

You somehow find the courage to look at Y/N, her face bloodshot and dripping with embarrassment as she turns away.

You feel like you’ve been hit by a truck. Making out? With Murph? Paris… a week ago? And Josh didn’t bother to…

You can’t find the will to move, or speak, or breathe or anything. Your mind is wracked with confusion and stress, wondering what in the hell is going to happen next.

—

HER POV

Your heart is pounding in your chest as you turn to look at Josh. 

Why? Why did he say that?

Your eyes scan the room as everyone stares at you, but all you can focus on is the look on Jake's face. It was a look similar to the one you received from Josh that night, but Jake’s hurt worse. Hit you deeper. You feel the knife twisting in your chest. 

You can see his neck growing red, the color creeping up into his cheeks as his anger starts to bubble up. Your eyes flash over to Mia and Lyla who are snickering in the corner like two highschool bullies. 

You shake your head and press your tongue to your cheek as you try to figure out an appropriate response. You decide at that moment that you owe none of them a single word. You silently grab your things and head to the door, brushing Jake’s shoulder as you pass. 

“Guess you’re not the only one with secrets, are you?”

You cut your eyes to Josh, completely shocked at his audacity to speak about something that didn’t involve him so publicly. It seemed out of character for him and you can tell by the way everyone is reacting to his outburst. 

You barely make it through the back door as the tears start to fall against your will. You feel so embarrassed. Everything has gotten so out of hand and now Josh hates you and you know Jake isn’t too far behind him. 

You just need to go back to your hotel room. Go back and be alone and cry in peace. You pull your phone from your purse and find the address for the hotel, and much to your displeasure, you see that it is a brisk three mile walk. Not to mention it is 42 degrees. You lock your phone in frustration knowing you have to go back inside and wait for the van to take you all back. 

You sneak back inside and head straight for the bathroom, locking yourself in one of the stalls and sitting down on the toilet bowl. You know the van isn’t going to leave for at least another thirty minutes, if not more. You let the tears flow freely in the confines of the bathroom stall, until you physically can’t anymore. You dry up your cheeks with the sleeve of your shirt as a notification from Ruth pushes through. 

Ruth

11:43PM: You do it yet?

You decide to bite the bullet. Who even cares anymore at this point?

You open Instagram and tap on her request, hitting the little blue ‘accept’ button and watching as her page populates with photos. Right off the bat you see how pretty she is, every picture perfectly effortless and aesthetically pleasing. Then, you see Jake. Happy, smiling, and holding her. Recently.

You're surprised by the feelings swirling through you, as you’d convinced yourself that your feelings for him were much smaller than they apparently were. You look at every single photo, and with each swipe you feel your own guilt start to grow larger and larger. 

Had you ruined this?

You hear noise in the hallway and know that they are leaving, heading to the bar or wherever they decided. You wait until you hear them leave, letting yourself out of the stall and into the empty hallway. As you approach the green room you know you want to get in, finish cleaning up, and leave, avoiding as many people as humanly possible. You press your ear to the door to listen for voices, but you hear nothing and know that the coast is clear. 

Though, when you open the door, you are met with someone, and thankfully it’s a friendly face. You see Ty grabbing the canned drinks from the fridge and throwing them into a cooler. He spots you, looking relieved and stops what he’s doing. 

“There you are,” he sighs in relief. 

“Wha– What are you doing here, I thought everyone left?”

He walks towards you, taking you into a hug before you can even process what he’s doing. It’s as if he already knows how you’re feeling and you fall into it, letting him wrap you up in his arms. 

“I’ve been around long enough to know how shit tends to go down in this family. I knew that Josh was in one of his moods tonight and Sam pushed him over the edge. Unfortunately, you were on the receiving end of things. I don’t blame you for walking out, but I am glad you came back.”

“Why are you always looking out for me?” you ask, feeling like you might cry all over again. 

“Real recognizes real, baby,” he winks, releasing you from the hug and returning back to the cooler. 

“Ty,” you whine, knowing you don't deserve his kindness. 

“Look, I know I shouldn’t, because he needs to do this himself, but I am really sorry about Josh. I’m gonna make him apologize to you as soon as I see him, I swear.”

“No, no, no. It’s okay. He is right. This whole thing is a mess and he and Jake and shit, even Sam, have the right to be mad at me. I fucked up.”

He shrugs his shoulders, “It’s a little bit of a mess but, it will get cleaned up. And as for Sam, I don’t think Sam is mad at you, per say, but more of just the situation and how he learned of it. There’s been some other shit going on with him lately, but don’t you worry I’m on your team, here.”

“You don’t need to be on my team, Ty. You have dealt with enough of my shit,” you laugh, hoping he doesn’t actually take your advice. 

He closes the cooler up and takes one last look around the room, both of you finding it spotless. “Oh, just let me. This is my shit and I am used to corralling these rowdy motherfuckers, I do it in my sleep.”

You laugh and shake your head, “Alright, alright, fine.”

He nods in victory before turning to you again, “You’re coming to the bar, right?”

“No, I’m probably gonna go back to the hotel and cry some more.”

“Actually, you’re not. You’re gonna go back to the hotel, pretty yourself up and come meet me.” He flits his hand to his chest as he points to himself. “I’ll text you the address when I get there.”

“Ty I can’t! I can’t even face Jake right now! And Mia and Lyla… I don’t know…” you stammer. 

“No, hang out with me all night. You don’t even have to talk to those bitches, I don’t half the time.”

You laugh at his honesty, and realize maybe you could go tonight.

“I don’t know…”

“Listen, it will look a lot worse if you don’t go darling,” he says, tilting his head to the side. You know he’s right. 

“Alright, fuck it.”

—

TY POV

Involving yourself in other people’s business wasn’t always your forte. In fact, it was something you tried to stray far, far away from. The thought of adding unnecessary stress into your life seemed daunting and pointless, especially when the outcome ended up being opposite of the one you desired, but, nonetheless… You find yourself here, completely involved in whatever drama is transpiring between Jake and Y/N. 

It’s none of your business in the least. It never was. But you could tell from the get-go that if no one else was going to step in and try to help each of them realize what was happening in front of them, you would have to be the one to do it. Who better, honestly?

You told Jake from the beginning that Isla seemed shady… though at first the two of them seemed like the happiest of two human beings, just like all new relationships do. She was good for him, and he treated her well. The day he told you and Josh that he told her he loved her, you were happy for him. Happy for them both. Things were good and they were taking Jake’s career changes in stride together. That was until you started to see straight through that bitch. 

That’s right, you’re not uncomfortable saying it anymore. She turned into a true-blue, cold hearted bitch. 

What started off as snide little remarks to Jake, in public, grew into full-blown insults that had you left with your mouth hanging open in disbelief. He let it slide off his back, though, and you swore it was like no one else even noticed it. How her behavior had changed almost overnight. You could see the respect she once held for Jake morphing into resentment right before your eyes, but everyone else seemed to think it was normal. 

It didn’t take long, though, for Josh’s twin-sense to be set off when he felt Jake’s normally low-key temper burning into fury; he was quite literally like a pot that was going to boil over anytime. Josh realized, but you don’t think he ever really realized, though to you, it was plain as fucking day. 

You and Josh welcomed him into your home, let him crash on the couch or in the guest room after he’d run away from her. It almost started to drive you insane that everyone else was just watching on as he let her walk all over him, all in the name of what everyone thought was love.

No. Fuck that. She may have loved him, but your senses absolutely buzzed with the feeling that all she was there for anymore was his status and fame. It made you sick how she took advantage of his popularity and his talent, only wanting to go out with him if it meant she’d be seen attached to his arm, only wanting to support him when it meant she’d reap the benefits. Made you fucking sick. 

But, like a good brother in law, you kept your mouth shut for the most part, until one day things got so bad you realized that Jake had seen the light, fully disconnecting himself from her right before you all left for this tour. 

And the minute you realized he was taking interest in Y/N, you felt like your heart could explode with relief for him. Finally, a distraction. The day you let him know how you felt about Isla in the bar was the first time you really said anything at all to him, hoping that your words of honesty would help to further the situation. 

But now… Now. Fuck, it seems like things have gotten messier than you anticipated. Y/N is the first person you’ve met in a while who matches your energy, who connects with you without any effort to do so. You like her a lot, and you are fighting to be on her team. But damn, if it doesn’t seem like she just dug herself into a hole…

So after what the fuck ever just happened in the green room, you know it’s time to strap your boots on and fix things, or at least try to. You’re no stranger to mediating arguments within this family, so you feel no shame in waltzing into this bar with a new flame lit under you. You’ve gotta fix this. For Y/N, and for Jake. 

You blow warm air into your hands as you walk into the bar, finding everyone gathered around a large table together. Good, they haven’t ripped each others’ heads off yet.

You take an empty seat next to Josh, greeting him with a quipped ‘Hey’ as you’re still a little bit pissed at his behavior earlier. His hand lands on your thigh, but you quickly pull it away, knowing that if you’re going to be the middleman here, everyone has to be on a level playing field. 

“The hell is wrong with you?” Josh slurs into your ear. 

You shoot a look his way, letting him know that now is not the fucking time. A quick glance around at everyone tells you that they’re all already fairly intoxicated, still sneering at one another overtop of their half-empty glasses. Great. Perfect. 

You take notice that Murph isn’t here, which is a good thing right now. He might need to stay behind and let the others have it tonight. You cross your arms over your chest as you make yourself comfortable in your seat. You clear your throat dramatically, effectively getting the attention of the table.

“Alright motherfuckers, who wants to tell me exactly what just happened in the green room?” you demand, taking a second to look Sam and Josh in the eyes first. The entire table groans and waves you off, except Sam, who gives you a look that says ‘Can’t tell you right now, but I will explain later…” He then does a quick glance to Lyla. You take mental note of that. 

Of course, Josh speaks first. “There’s not much to say, Ty… I caught our runner making out with our head of security last week, I don’t know what else you want me to say…”

“I want you to tell the table why you are so pissed off about that, Josh. Why are you so concerned with something that isn’t your business?” you quip back.

Josh mirrors your stance, crossing his own arms as he motions to Jake. “Hm, I don’t know, why don’t you ask my fucking twin, huh?” Everyone then turns all their attention to Jake, putting him directly in the spotlight. Your stomach turns over with nerves as you feel the tension in the room thickening with every passing second. You don’t want to do things this way. But, you’ve learned from experience, getting it all out on the table is the best way for them to do things like this. 

Jake is standing, running his tongue across his teeth, his face already glimmering with a nervous sweat. “Okay, fuck it,” he sets his beer down on the table, yanking a free chair out from underneath it and harshly taking a seat. “Y/N and I have been hooking up since tour started. Pretty regularly. Thought things were good. But I guess it doesn’t fucking matter anymore since apparently I was dumb to the fact that she’s more into our beloved Murphy.” You can tell he is seething. 

You hear Mia and Lyla gasp like the news was brand new to them. “So it’s fucking true, then, huh Jacob?!” Lyla practically yells, leaning over the table at him. “Ohhh, we fucking knew it, you sorry ass bitch.”

“It’s actually none of your fucking business, Lyla, so why don’t you lay the fuck off,” he retaliates.

You watch Mia put her hand on Lyla’s chest as she leans across her toward Jake, her words spitting with venom to him. “Actually it is my fucking business, Jake, Isla is my best friend you absolute dick! And she’s your fucking girlfriend!”

Jake almost stands from his chair completely, leaning over to her now. “She’s not my girlfriend anymore, Lyla! She hasn’t been for a long time! She just won’t admit it to anyone or even herself! Don’t speak on things you have absolutely no fucking idea about, Lyla. It’s not a good fucking look.” Jake is visibly vibrating with rage. You feel Josh doing the same.

Next thing you know you hear Sam bellowing toward Jake. “Hey, don’t fucking speak to her like that, man, or I swear to god–”

“Oh, I’d be fucking careful, Sam, given I know all the dirty details about our little conversation in my room the other night…” Jake defends himself with a finger pointed directly to Sam. His jaw is clenched so tightly you think he might break his teeth. 

Sam gives Jake a death glare that you know all too well, as Lyla turns in her seat to face him. “What the fuck is he talking about, Samuel? Is that why you disappeared drunk off your ass the other night? To go to Jake’s room? What did you talk about?”

Sam closes his eyes as he tries to diffuse his rage. “What the fuck ever, I’m just pissed everyone knew about Y/N and Jake besides me,” he slurs. “Always failing to let me in on the fuckin’ secrets.” You roll your eyes at Sam, suddenly confused and intrigued about what kind of conversation he had with Jake, anyway. 

“This is why, Sam! Right here! Shit blows up!” Jake yells. 

Josh groans, leaning his elbows on the table to Jake. “Yeah, just like I fucking told you it would.”

Jake scoffs hard. “Don’t talk to me about shit blowing up when you didn’t tell me for a god damn week that she was fucking around with Murph behind my back, Josh!”

“Ohhhhhoho, don’t try and pull that, I told you this shit wasn’t going to work anyway,” Josh responds with a sneer. 

“Wasn’t going to work?!” Mia yells. “What do you mean, wasn’t going to fucking work?! You have a girlfriend Jacob, are you a fucking idiot?!”

You watch as Danny physically lets his face fall into his hands, shaking his curls side to side.

“Alright, alright, everybody calm the fuck down,” Josh says loudly, actually qualming a situation for once in his life. “Let’s take a break, let’s talk this out.”

You dart your head to the side to give him a sharp look. “No, Josh, you’re the one who opened your big mouth in the green room and set everybody off, let’s hash this shit out right now. Everyone’s doing an excellent job of letting it all fly. Let’s not stop now,” you argue, putting your foot down. You motion with your hand to everyone at the table. “Keep going, let’s go…”

You hear a wholehearted laugh come from Jake at Josh’s expense.

Sam looks at Lyla, raising his voice a little. “Is this why you’ve been so fucking irritable lately?”

Oop, shouldn’t have gone there, kid.

She shoots back in her chair, looking as if she’s ready to pounce on him. “Whoa, whoa, irritable? Excuse me? Actually ya know what, yeah, I guess it fucking is!” She yells. “You’d be fucking pissed too, wouldn’t you?!”

“I guess I don’t know, since nobody ever fucking tells me anything!” Sam retaliates with his hands in the air.

“Sam you have got to be fucking kidding me… Do you not remember me sleeping on your couch for days at a time? Do you think I just did that because I missed you? Be serious…” Jake says with a little sincerity in his tone. 

“I don’t know! Shit, I guess I just thought you were…”

“Thought I was what?! Bored? Lonely? Hated my own home? Well, I guess that last one kinda makes fucking sense, now, huh?” Jake goes on, running a hand over his mouth.

Lyla speaks up. “All those nights you spent at our house Jake… you know Isla cried herself to sleep each and every one. Talked to me on the phone until 3AM until she couldn’t cry anymore because you fucking left her, over and over again–”

Jake leans his elbows on the table, hiding his face behind his folded hands. You can tell by the redness in his face that he is holding himself back from absolutely laying into Lyla. 

“Oh, you don’t even want to start with me, Lyla…” he grits his teeth, the vein in his head pulsing with rage again. 

“Chill out, Jake…” you hear Josh warn under his breath. 

“Do you know why I left, Lyla? Over and over again?!” His tone calms. “Yeah, I bet you don’t because all you care about is her fucking side of the story… did it not occur to you that I have one, too? What about my fucking feelings, huh? How do you know she’s not purposefully making me out to look like the bad guy? I bet nothing was her fault, was it? Hm?” He asks, looking around the table. Everyone stays silent, avoiding his glare. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. No one bothered to come and ask me what was wrong, hear my side of the story. Fucking figures, she always gets what she fucking wants, anyway,” he goes on, suddenly able to breathe through his words. “None of you cared to realize I’ve been fucking miserable for months? Tried ending things for months? I bet not, huh. You only got lies and a sob story from Isla.” He takes a deep breath. Keep going Jake…

“So yeah, I tried to end things with Isla. Multiple times. Now I know I have royally fucked up with making my life messier than it needs to be–”

“She still fucking lives with you, Jake–” Lyla cuts. 

“Yeah, I fucking know that, genius,” he eyes her sideways. “You think this has been easy for either of us? I asked her to move out way before we started packing for this fucking tour… So yes. I did start hooking up with someone else. And you know what? I don’t regret a goddamn second of it. I finally found something that makes me fucking happy, and not miserable every single second of my life. And if you want to know why I think my actions are justified, you can speak to me directly about it. I’m a grown fucking adult, and I don’t owe you a goddamn thing if you don’t even have the decency to speak to me about my own fucking business…” Jake cuts his eyes directly to Mia and Lyla, making them sink back in their seats a little. 

Fuck yes, Jacob. Fuck. Yes. 

Just then, like a sitcom hitting its dramatic peak, Murph enters the bar, leaving everyone gathered around the table even more speechless than they were before. You feel a collective breath be taken by everyone before Jake shoots up from his seat. “Another round?”

Hell yes. Success. 

Well, kind of. Progress. 

You look at your phone, seeing that Y/N had texted you a ‘?’ about fifteen minutes ago. 

“Perfect timing, Y/N is on her way here, too!” you announce, your voice full of pep. 

“You’re shitting me, right,” Josh murmurs under his breath to you. 

“Good, great. Grand. A big family reunion, huh?” Jake says sarcastically in his faux-accent. “I’m over the fucking moon.” Jake darts his eyes to Murph for a split second before making his way back to the bar. 

You take a second to hide your phone under the table, texting Y/N back.

You

12:32AM: Come. Sit with me. I’ll have a drink waiting for you. 

—

HER POV

Your palms are sweating with nervous energy, despite the freezing cold weather. You almost didn’t go. You talked yourself out of it three times before you ever left the room, but knowing that Ty was waiting for you was enough of a reason to go. He liked you, looked out for you and treated you like a friend even though he didn’t have to. You could suck it up for one night. 

As you push the door open you’re immediately met with warm air and the smell of stale beer. It’s loud in the small bar and terribly lit, making it hard to find the group. You see a hand wave you in its direction, and at the end of it, Ty. The table he is sitting at is fairly empty, most of the group dispersed throughout the bar, playing pool or darts. He pulls out the barstool next to him, sliding a drink in your direction. 

“You made it!” he smiles, watching you sit down next to him. 

“I did. What’s going on, I feel kinda weird about being here,” you admit. 

“Ahhh, don’t worry about it, everything is fine. Promise.” he says, taking a sip of his beer. “Everyone is pretty drunk now, and has already forgotten about earlier.”

You glance around the smoky bar and as you look behind you, your eyes meet with Josh’s, who is giving you the most apologetic eyes you’ve ever seen. You give him a curt smile, and turn back around, knowing that a conversation with him is low on your list of priorities at the moment. 

You spend most of the next hour with Ty, laughing and discussing anything and everything that does not have to do with Greta Van Fleet. He’s a sweet guy and you can tell why Josh fell for him, with his ability to make everyone feel heard and wanted, so easily. 

You’re two drinks in when you feel a warm hand on your shoulder, pulling you from your conversation with Ty. You turn to look at the person, but you can smell that it’s Jake, his cologne at the forefront of your mind. You feel him lean down to your ear, his breath on your neck. 

“I’d still like to talk tonight,” he whispers, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. 

You take a deep breath and try to center yourself. You turn fully to look at him, seeing that he is not nearly as mad as he seemed earlier, and you know you want to hear what he has to say. You want to hear his side of the story you’ve pieced together over the last week. You nod at him as your eyes meet his, and he nods back, stepping away to return to the bar already going over what he will likely say later.

— 

An hour later you find yourself in your hotel room, pacing as you anxiously wait to hear from Jake. He left the bar before you did, deciding to ride back with Ty and Josh after the others left. You took a shower and tidied up your room and still, you haven't heard from him, that is, until your phone buzzed on the dresser. 

Jake

1:47AM: What is your room number?

Shit! Okay. 

You

1:48AM: 407

You know it won't be long until he is knocking on the door, and your heart is beating hard in your chest. You try to slow your breathing and calm your heart rate before he gets here, but you know it's no use because it will spike again as soon as you see him. 

The knock echoes through the room and you make your way to the door, swallowing back your nerves. As you open the door you find him standing there with one hand in his sweats pocket, and the other gripping a CD. 

You look at it as he presents it to you, a smug smile on his face as you realize what it is. 

‘An Awesome Wave’.

“This is–”

“The album we listened to on the plane, yeah,” he finishes, smiling as he steps into your room. “Found it in a record shop the other day in London. Thought of you and that first time we talked on the plane.”

You both step further into the room, your heart already twisting at his sweet gesture. He thought of you. You sit on the edge of the bed as you stare at the CD in your hands. 

“Listen, I’m sorry you had to find out about Murph like that, I never meant for that to come out like that,” you offer, letting your eyes flick up to meet his as he stands in front of you. 

“Look, I came here to apologize to you, Y/N. Not the other way around. You said I’m not the only one with secrets, and I guess that’s true, but I am more interested in setting the story straight and finding out what secrets you seem to be privy to.”

JAKE POV

She holds your gaze for just a second as she leans forward, grabbing her phone from the dresser behind you. She takes a shaky breath as her thumb dances across the screen, obviously looking for something. Your heart starts to beat faster and faster as she searches for what she’s looking for, a million different suspicions of what it could be flying through your mind. 

Finally she turns her phone, showing you a screenshot of when Isla requested to follow her on Instagram. You feel your eyes grow as you breathe out a surprised “Oh.” 

Fuckkkkkkk. She found her. 

“Yeah. This was a while ago. I accepted her request tonight after the show. I know everything, Jake. I know about you and her. I know you’ve been lying to me this entire time,” she says bravely, gritting her jaw as she speaks. 

“Let me stop you there, Y/N. Please…” you beg, preparing yourself to finally lay everything out on the line. The time had come. You take a deep breath as you readjust your seat. “Where do I even fucking begin?” you ask rhetorically. 

“If I were you, I’d start at the beginning,” she suggests firmly. 

“Alright, okay, yeah…” you agree, doing your best to find the courage. “Her name is Isla Whitman. And… Yes, she still lives in my home. Isla and I had been together for a long, long time. She was there when everything skyrocketed with the band, right when everything started to take off. She moved in with me, life was going good. She uh… things were great, obviously, as I’m sure you’ve seen from the photos…” you say, motioning to her phone. “We were really good for a long time, I was really happy…”

“But then uh, but then things started to go south. Like really, really badly.” You wipe a heavy hand across your face as you relive those terrible days again. “I started to realize that she wasn’t here for me anymore, that she was here for whatever status I held. Only here because of the success of the band and shit. Only wanted to be seen and be a part of things if it meant she would be photographed and noticed by our fans. It was weird shit, like the fame got to her, and she wasn’t the one even… anyways. She turned into a completely different person, almost overnight. Apparently, uh… it was a lot worse than I even realized, now that I’m kinda putting things into perspective, and Josh and Ty are agreeing with me. She used me. She used the hell out of me. Talked down to me all the time. Gaslit me. Made everything my fault. We got into terrible, horrible fights. All the time. I’m talking fights so bad that we both would throw things at the walls. There at the end, I started spending nights on Josh or Sam’s couch, I’d completely leave for days on end until she’d swindle me into coming back home, all for it to happen again. Over and over. It was…really fucking horrible, Y/N,” you recount, feeling a lump growing in your throat. 

“I uh, I tried to get her to move out multiple times, told her I was finished, I couldn’t do it anymore. Mentally, I was done months ago. Over it. Then the night before we left for Europe, we fought and cried until 4:00 in the morning, and our flight left at six. The only way I could get out the door was if I agreed to go on a “break”. Which I know now was a stupid fucking idea,” you go on. 

“My idea of a break was no contact, cut off completely, do our own things while she found another place to live, then when I got home, we could discuss things like rational adults and get things figured out maturely, but. Ever since we’ve been here, she’s done nothing but try to involve herself in my life even more so than she did when I was home,” you bite your cheeks in as your eyes glaze over, feeling that same gut sensation that keeps haunting you at the worst times. That guilt creeping back up again and again. 

“My intention was never to hurt you, or harm you in any way at all, Y/N. Please know that. I left Nashville thinking I was practically a free man, finally. Ready to relax and disconnect while we worked. And I never intended to find you. And I never intended to… fall for you…like I did,” you explain, looking up to her with cautious eyes. “You completely blindsided me. Made me feel emotions that I hadn’t felt in years, Y/N. I should have told you from the beginning. I know I should have. That is the one thing that I regret completely and totally. I should have been upfront with you about it all. But, I was scared of fucking it up, you know? Scared you knowing about her would push you away. And now… I guess it blew up in my face even more than I thought it would…backfired completely.” You shake your head as you exhale a deep breath, letting a silence fall between the two of you. 

“I understand, Jake,” she finally whispers. “I really do…”

“Really? You do?”

“Mhmm. I get how hard that must have been. Especially since you had no idea it was even happening for so long,” she explains. You nod your head in agreement. “Feels fucking stupid now, I should have picked up on it.” 

“But she still lives with you. Still thinks you’re hers…” she reiterates. 

“Yes. Well, I guess? She still calls constantly, still texts me incessantly–”

“Was that who was calling the night we… ya know…”

You face reddens at the memory of that first night you hooked up, when you couldn’t even fucking perform for her. You nod. “Yeah. Well, her and my techs. It was a whole thing.”

“God…” she says, standing from the bed and shaking her hands out by her sides. She starts pacing the room and running her hands through her hair. “I feel so stupid…”

“You feel stupid?! Y/N, I am the idiot, here, not you…” you argue, standing from the bed as well. “I’m the one that fucked everything up and probably lost you completely.”

She stops and rolls her eyes at you, tears poking from the corners of them. “I should have… I should have asked you if you had someone, Jake. I should have gotten to know you better…” she starts to cry. “That’s like, girl rule #1.”

“Noooo no no, please don’t cry, Y/N…” you rush to her, gently placing your hands on the undersides of her elbows as she crosses them protectively across her chest. 

She runs a hand under her eye as she wipes a falling tear away. She scoffs at herself.

“No, Y/N. That was my fault. We kinda just…happened, you know? Our lust got the best of us,” you laugh a little at the memory of sneaking her into the bathroom that night at the bar.

“My suspicions kinda drove me away, ya know? I knew something was up the night Sam came to your room, talking all that…” she says. “You hiding me in the fucking bathroom.”

“Yeah, yeah I figured as much. I should have told you right then and there, I’m so sorry,” you plead. 

“I’m not gonna lie, Jake, my trust is…”

“Probably fucking shattered, isn’t it?” you ask, feeling a bottomless feeling in your chest. Like the whole situation has no happy ending, because how could it? Everything is fucked. 

She shrugs, looking past you at nothing. “I don’t know.” She walks slowly and sits back on the bed. “And Mia and Lyla? They–”

“Lyla is Isla’s best friend, yes. So of course Mia is pulled into that, as well. And, of course they are praying on my downfall. They don’t know my side of the story,” you explain, suddenly realizing that at the same time, Y/N doesn’t know Isla’s side of this story. You hope that she takes your’s in stride. 

“Great, great. Cool,” she complains. “Now they hate me, too.”

“No, I’m not gonna let that happen. I told Lyla to come and speak with me directly if she wanted the full, true story. We’ll get that sorted out, don’t worry,” you explain. “No one hates you.”

“You aren’t mad at me for… with Murph?” she asks. 

Ah, fuck. 

“Shit, I mean… I’m not mad, I don’t guess. I’m… I guess I’m blindsided with that, too,” you know you can’t explain how you feel, because you truly haven’t had time to even process it yet. “I pushed you away, I get that. Fuck, we hardly spoke for a week. Of course you wanted nothing to do with me. Then Isla goes and adds you on social media…? I mean. Fuck, I get it. Murph is… a cool guy…” you have trouble admitting it. 

“It’s not that serious, Jake,” she says, almost a whimper. “He and I, we just… clicked.”

Her words almost cut you in half. You thought she clicked with you. 

“I get that,” you choke, as much as you hate to say it, you have hardly any dog left in this fight. “Listen, the bottom line is, I know I fucked up. Royally. I wouldn’t blame you if you never want to speak to me again. I don’t blame you for running away from me. But… I swear to god, Y/N, I would fight for you to the end of my days… You gave me something that I haven’t had in so long, I hardly remembered how it felt to be happy. You gave me excitement, and energy, and… you showed me that even though my life was absolute shit, it didn’t have to be that way. You showed me happiness, Y/N. I can’t ask for more than that. And if you ever give me another chance, I know I’d spend all my time repaying you for just that little bit of happiness you gave me, because it was one of the best times of my entire life.” You let out another shaky, huffed breath, fighting back tears, yourself.

Her eyes begin to well again, and you even work the tiniest smile from her. She licks her lips, rubbing them together. “Might take me some time, Jake. I don’t–”

“I don’t expect you to forgive me overnight. I just don’t want you to hate me.”

She shakes her head. “Don’t hate you…”

She relaxes back against the fluffy pillows on her bed, her eyes obviously becoming heavy. 

“Can we agree to start fresh? As friends? Forget about all the stupid shit?” you extend your hand out for her to shake, praying that if she could just give you this….

She takes it gently, clicking her tongue. “My intuition is telling me not to, but. I don’t see anything wrong with starting fresh… Honesty. From here on out.” She shakes it with a little firmness at the conclusion of her sentence. 

“Good. Yes. Perfect, even. I promise,” you say with a little added sugar in your words. “Please just understand that my… relationship at home is anything but. She’s… so far gone from my mind I can’t even explain it to you. My number one priority is finding her somewhere else to live when we get home.”

She nods again. “That’s really none of my business, Jake.”

“Yes it is, Y/N. We’re friends now, remember?” you give her a sexy side smile, knowing that just having her in your life again would be enough, for now. “Thank you… for hearing me out.”

“Thank you for explaining. If only you’d have done that weeks ago…” she rolls her eyes playfully. 

“I know, I know, shit,” you taunt, rising from the bed again. As she walks you to the door, you find yourself fighting off the urge to pull her in, still sobbing a little from earlier. You want to feel her touch again, feel her body against yours and kiss away the saltiness of her tears. But you can’t do that anymore. 

When she opens the door and you approach the threshold, you turn back to her, letting your hand push a strand of fallen hair from her eye. “I still want you in my life, Y/N. You’re too good to let go, I don’t wanna let you go…You’ve still got me…” you say through a whisper, feeling boldness rising in your chest.

She smiles and leans her head into the touch of your hand, but she brushes it away quickly. “Go to bed, Jake.” 

You give her one last knowing look, holding her stare for just a second too long, hoping that one last ditch effort to keep you on her mind would be enough to truly start things fresh. 

Lord knows you’d do anything to get her back again.

—

HER POV

When morning comes it feels different. A weight has been lifted from your shoulders and the day doesn’t seem so daunting. You are glad that you and Jake finally talked things through, though you wish it would have happened weeks ago when you could have stopped all this from happening in the first place. 

You quickly dress and pack your suitcase, knowing that van call is approaching quickly and that everyone will be assembling down in the lobby before you know it. You feel happy with your appearance as you make your way to the elevator, pushing the button and waiting as it climbs to your floor. As the doors spring open, you see none other than Murph waiting inside with his suitcase. 

“Well good morning,” he smiles, motioning for you to join him inside. 

“Good morning,” you answer, rolling your suitcase in behind you.

“Did you have a good evening?” he asks, adjusting his hat. 

“It was alright,” you answer truthfully. “You excited to head to Manchester?” 

“Think I’m more excited for Glasgow if I’m honest with you,” he smirks, pressing the button to close the doors. 

“Can’t imagine why,” you wink, feeling the elevator start to move toward the lobby, singing the ‘Da da da da da’s’ of ‘Howlin’ For You’.

The doors spring open and you step out onto the cobblestone lobby floor, your suitcase bumping along behind you. As you turn the corner you see your group huddled up together talking quietly. They’re standing awkwardly, seeming more out of sorts than normal. It’s then you lay eyes on the auburn haired girl you studied in great detail just last night, as she stands hand in hand with Jake.

Isla. 

In a tizzy of nerves, you turn to talk to Murph, only to find that he has walked away to meet with Dean and his own group. You’re alone and you have to face this. You swallow back your nerve and decide that you will walk over to the group with your head held high, ready to meet the girl Jake swore up and down he was done with. 

As she stands beside him. 

Holding his fucking hand. 

“Y/N!” Paul shouts, grabbing your attention as he stands next to Ty. Everyone's heads turn to look at you, including Jake’s and you feel frozen in place. His face is solemn, with a hint of guilt hiding in his brown eyes. 

You step up to the small circle of people, pretending that nothing is wrong, smiling and greeting everyone with a bright and bubbly smile. If you’re going to do anything, you’re going to make your first impression on Isla one that she won’t soon forget. Your eyes flick over to Ty who is silently telling you that you will definitely be talking later. Josh’s eyes meet yours next, sad and defeated as he stands next to her, showing his obvious feelings towards the situation you've found yourselves in. 

Jake looks clearly burdened, like a lifeless shell standing there as his face is vacant of any loving emotion whatsoever. His movements are aimless, his posture slouched. And for a split second, you actually feel sorry for him. 

Until you regain your clarity, opting to stay on the clueless side of this very obviously two-sided party. 

The lying fucking son of a bitch. 

“Oh hey, Y/N!” Lyla says cheerfully, “So glad we caught you, I just wanted to introduce you to someone. This is Isla, Jake’s girlfriend!”

Isla extends her hand to you, dropping Jake’s at his side. You can feel her laser sharp eyes digging through your skull, her glare almost enough to knock you over. Your eyes meet Jake’s, looking sad and withdrawn before you look back at Isla, and grasp her hand. “Hi, I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

She shakes your hand weakly before dropping hers to her side, falling into Jake’s shoulder to stake her claim. His face goes stark white. 

“I’m so glad to finally meet you,” she coos. “I have heard all about you.”

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[tearsonmarz]

Scarian Flirting and Fishing pt. 1

“Are you alright?” Raising his head Grian looked up to see a guy with brown hair and muddy green eyes examining at him.

“I’m fine.” He brushed off, going through the items he had acquired in the past hour. “Where did a put that flint and— ah!” Muttering to himself- trying to not pay any mind to the weird guy watching over him- he lit a fire and began to prepare his lunch.

“You don’t exactly seem fine.” Grian shot a look at him before rolling his eyes and going back to his cooking. The brunette cleared his throat before walking towards him.

“What are you doing?”

“Your logs seemed a little out of place. Wouldn’t want to burn yourself now, would you?”

“It’s fine, I can take care of myself. Why don’t you just mind your own business.” He scoffed, fixing the logs himself and shooing away the stranger.

“I’d love to, but sadly I’m cursed with wanting to help people. Especially wanderers who can take care of themselves.” The stranger shot Grian a wink to his disgust.

Deciding to ignore the man, he put is food to cook before going back to looking through his haul. Name tags, saddles, boots, bottles, fish, junk, junk and more junk. Nothing of interest and certainly not what he was hoping to find. After roaming the stream for an hour you’d think he’d find something of note, but nope! Just more trash he’d have to toss out once it had accumulated enough to be dragged instead of carried.

“So... what are you hoping to find.” A yelp came out of Grian, he stared daggers into the man hovering over him.

“What is wrong with you? Can’t you just leave me alone?”

“Sorry, you just seemed so lost in thought, you didn’t even realize your food was finished.” The stranger chuckled to himself as red painted Grian’s ears.

“You could’ve just said so.” He pouted, earning a grin from the man.

“Does this mean I can stick around?”

“I’d like it if you didn’t, but I have a sneaking suspicion that you won’t listen.”

“Ah, you already know me so well. I can already tell we’re going to get along.” Without another word, he went to sit down next to Grian. “I’m Scar by the way. What’s your name?”

“Grian” He spoke in between bites.

“That’s a bit of an odd name. It’s suits you.”

There was something about this guy that Grian couldn’t quite put his finger on. He didn’t know him, but every fiber of his being was telling him this man was going to cause him quite a bit of trouble. Then again, anyone who tried to openly flirt with the first person they see, is bound to bring trouble wherever they go.

“Now that we’re acquainted, do you mind telling me what you’re looking for?” Grian slowed his chewing, pausing to think about whether or not to tell him. They had just met afterall, there was really no point in telling him. It’s not like this guy was going to stick around for very long.

“Uhm… It’s a little personal—”

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to pry. But I guess that’s what I get for being a little nosy.” Scar laughed it off. Even though it felt like he had messed up, Grian did appreciate him backing off.

“Well, I will say, it’s just a book. Nothing too special. Just something that I need.” This much should be fine right?

“A bit odd, but I guess it’s fitting.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, I just... You seem a bit unusual? Not in a bad way! Just out of the ordinary. I don’t know what I’m saying half of the time, so don’t mind me.” Shaking his head, he drew himself forward. “I didn’t mean anything of it. I just wasn’t expecting that.”

Without another word, Grian packed away his things and grabbed his fishing rod. Returning to the river, he sighed hoping for something different to be caught on his line.

“Was that sigh for me or for you?”

“Me. Do you just never make any noise when you move?”

“I’m quick, and fast like a cat. Of course, I’m not going to make any noise—” He stumbled as Grian turned to him.

“Obviously not as graceful.” Grian smirked, “You might do with a couple of dancing lessons.”

“Oh, I don’t dance. That is unless you want to teach me?”

“You couldn’t pay me enough.” He reeled in his line after feeling a bite, already knowing it was just another fish.

“I’d think I’m better company than all these fish you’re catching.”

“At least they’re quieter than you are.”

“Ouch, sick of me already? It’s hardly been any time at all.”

“Feels like forever.” Grian whispered underneath his breath before casting his line again.

“Already talking about our future? You must be a man after my heart.”

Part Two

[hestzhyen]

Chapter 62 Chuunibyou Posting

...Hello dear void. Rumours of my death are only slightly exaggerated. I'm back from the hospital and I'm ready to chill with this chapter over the break. Taking it easy on myself and not doing the editor's notes this week. This will be short in general since I'm still in recovery, actually- sorry about that. Gonna rest up and get ready for the next chapter that drops on January 3rd.

Chihiro...?

Something something fresh hatred

I got a kick out of Chihiro from Wish, I really did. Goes to show how ridiculous his edginess in the first few chapters was before Char softened him up for the better. Everyone give Char a pat on the head for doing a good job, okay?

Iori's impression of Chihiro as a murderer is something I'll allow myself a little satisfaction for since I called him having a trashed public image thanks to his interruption of the kabuki play back in chapter 52. He's going to have a harder time completing his mission thanks to this in some way- betting on the Kamunabi using it against him somehow, but the Hishaku easily could too. It's anyone's guess on how exactly this will come to bite him in the ass but it will happen.

Worst of all, though, he's got kids imitating him like he's some MC out of an edgy wish-fulfillment LN. What a way to trivialize what someone's been through (not that Discount Chihiro knows, of course). Chihiro's image is already out of his control in some pretty damaging ways.

But She Was, in Fact, the Chosen One

Thank you for your helpful narration about the general public's reaction to Owl darkening the skies, Iori.

We don't know the kanji for Iori's name yet since it's only been spelled with Katakana so far (イヲリ), but it's clear as day that she's inherited some of Samura's reckless bravery and quick assessment abilities.

I like that she's very much an ordinary girl being thrust into a situation that's way over her head. Her memories of her dad are locked away so she's just an average highschooler being plucked out of the ordinary and tossed into the extraordinary like Discount Chihiro wished he was until Kuguri held a sword to his throat.

The seal is breaking through Iori's own will to know what the hell is going on so I wonder if the Masumi will re-do it. I think not, since Minimura had that bit about Samura underestimating kids near the end, so she'll probably get a few panels to come to terms with her real identity while Chihiro does some cool moves in the classroom to fend off the Hishaku.

I have a feeling that Iori's going to be sticking around for a while. She's getting a lot of screen time and set up for development if she's just meant to be an arc character or damsel in distress. Won't get too attached, obviously, but I kinda like her already based on the little glimpse we've seen. Looking forward to learning more about her personality and seeing what's in store for her beyond this arc.

Silly Murderers

There's no fixing this kind of crazy.

Place your bets: blood-based identification sorcery, or just plan nuts? We'll find out sooner or later.

This is gonna be another inconclusive fight since we need to see Kuguri meet the Bearer that's bonded to the blade he's pining for and learn Tomboy's name.

Small Complaint

Just a note about a small difference I'm petty enough to be annoyed about in the EN version:

The "no"s stop pretty short in English, but in Japanese...

...they run on into Minimura's speech bubble to show her racing thoughts getting cut short.

Alright dear void. Let's enjoy lobotomybachi week and let the brainrot flow during the break. Also, consider getting help before you shut down and enter a tailspin- this is a very difficult time of year for some of us. You're not alone if so. Reach out for help if you need it.

[spacelazarwolf]

I've been attending a queer community group for 6 months in a small city. I don't talk about myself since I'm fleeing violence and just go to be around people I don't work with. Yesterday i was hanging out with someone from that group, outside of the group, for the first time. They thanked me for making the group more accepting by being openly Jewish. They've started making their events less Xtian, making plans behind closed doors to be more open to non xtians/atheists, and shutting down antisemitism super aggressively since they found out I'm Jewish. They threatened to kick people from group last week when they told an antisemitic joke (once I was out of the room as to not upset me). There's only one problem.

I'm not Jewish.

I grew up in a primarily Jewish community. I've attended a lot of events and gatherings at Synagogues my whole life. I can say "I don't speak Hebrew" in Hebrew. And I am not Jewish. 2 or 3 months ago people were trash talking religion but clearly just meant Xtian and I corrected them to say Xtian when they mean Xtian, citing my queer Jewish *friends* as people who have not had the same religious queerphobia, and good religious experiences in general. I was thanked, conversation kept going, and I did not know it until last night.

I immediately corrected my friend. They think this is hilarious. I am consulting a rabbi on if I can ethically only correct people when they make it known to me that they think I'm Jewish, since I'm apparently making an impact on the group in a positive way when they assume. I feel insane. Goyim will hear you don't think Jewish people are homophobic and assume you are Jewish bc there is no other explanation I guess. Feel free to toss your two cents in on this comedy of errors while I wait for the rabbi to get back to me.

allying so hard u accidentally trip into the mikveh.

honestly though, it is really funny to me how many goyim think that the only people who could possibly defend jews are other jews. this is a pretty consistent issue in progressive spaces, so i'm glad you're calling it out.

[rodricksfilipinagf]

Karma's A Bitch Part 1 (Jamie Tartt x Reader, Enemies to Lovers)

Summary: Idealistic, hopeless romantic Y/N is the new marketing intern at AFC Richmond who instantly tops star player and major asshole Jamie Tartt's shit list for daring to stand up to him.

         Today’s my first day as a marketing intern at AFC Richmond! I really like Keeley already- she’s so nice. She was immediately welcoming to me and even listened to my rant about the newest season of Bridgerton. I think working here is going to be exciting because Jamie Tartt trains here and I’ve had sex fantasies about him ever since I saw him modeling in a champagne ad. I was ecstatic to be placed here because then that meant we can meet and interact and possibly fall in love and reenact my sex dreams.

         I can see the players coming into the building from the field. Oh my God, that means Jamie’s coming! What if he falls in love with me on sight? That wouldn’t happen probably but it’d be so romantic.

         Jamie is wearing his gray practice jersey and grey warm up jacket. He is making the drab colors work for him. 

         When he’s just about to pass me, I say, “Hey, Jamie, I’m Y/N and I just want to say-“

         He brushes right past me, shoving his water bottle into my hands. “Thanks,” he dismisses, not even turning around.

         Well. That dream’s dead now. My cheeks flush with anger and I guess my body reacts before my mind. I don’t think about how this will affect my internship or dealing with him in the future. I just want to make him pay. 

         I catch up to him, seizing his arm and blocking his path.

         His eyes narrow in annoyance. “What do you want?”

         I unscrew the bottle cap. “I used to admire you a lot, but…” I stand on my tiptoes and pour all the water from the bottle onto Jamie’s face. “Not anymore, dickhead.”

         He blinks, looking furious. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Who the fuck do you think you are? Do you know who I am?”

         “Yes,” I say. “A terrible person who treats people like crap. Everything else doesn’t matter to me. Not how famous you are or how rich you are or how many goals you score and certainly not how hot you are!” I regret saying that last part. 

         “You think I’m hot?” he asks. Then he laughs. “What, are you mad that I’m not falling all over myself for you?”

         “You wish,” I say. “I just think you shouldn’t be rude to interns- or anyone- because you’re some big star.”

         “You’re interning here?” Jamie’s nose wrinkles as if he smells something rancid. Then he draws up. “Then let me tell you how it works around here. You learn respect, you do what I say, and if I want your fucking opinion, I’ll ask.”

         “I’m actually in the marketing department, not your personal assistant. And I’ll respect you when you learn not to be a dick,” I retort. 

         “Whatever. Just stay out of my way.” He knocks my shoulder with his before storming off.

         Today I’m handing out schedules to the players about marketing stuff. I barely make eye contact when I get to Jamie, who is chewing gum. I just shove it at him. “This is yours.”

         “Perfect,” Jamie says. “I’ve been looking for a place to put my gum.”

         “How about up your ass?” I say nastily.

         Scorn enters Jamie’s eyes. “I see you still haven’t learned respect, intern.” He takes his wet gum out of his mouth and sticks it into my hand. “Toss this in the trash for me.”

`        What an entitled prick. “In the trash? Sure.” I press his chewed gum into his forehead. By now the whole team is watching. “Is here good?” I taunt. 

         A lot of the other players start laughing. I bet Jamie’s been an ass to all of them at least once, and they love seeing him brought down a peg.

         He looks furious, using the paper his schedule is on to scrape gum off his face. And then he gets right up in mine. “How many times do I have to fucking tell you to stay in your place?” he growls.

         “Maybe this all wouldn’t be happening if you were a nice person. Just a thought. Oh, and you have an interview at 3 tomorrow.” I start to walk away, but Jamie grabs the back of my shirt. 

         “I could make your life really miserable around here if I wanted to,” Jamie says. 

         “Sure, gum-face. Sure,” I say. I leave him seething behind me. 

         This morning I get an email that I have to be in the interview room 25 minutes earlier to “prep Jamie on talking points.”

When I pull open the door of the interview room, I’m showered from head to toe with whipped cream from a bucket hanging over the door. When I wipe my eyes, I see Jamie with a big bucket in his hand.

“You did this,” I spew.

He shrugs. “I thought you needed a makeover,” he says, emptying the bucket’s contents over my head. Which turn out to be feathers. Many, multicolored feathers that because of the whipped cream, stick everywhere. My hair, my face, and all over my body. 

“Jamie!” I shriek furiously while he just looks smug. “Are you out of your mind?”

“What?” He feigns innocence. “I thought Americans liked this.”

“Okay, Jamie, what is your problem with me?” I demand. “Is it because I’m the only person ever to stand up to you?”

“You think you can talk to me and treat me however you want. You tried to embarrass me in front of my teammates today. You need to get it through your thick skull that you’re just some lowly American intern, and I’m the star player. You don’t tell me what to do.”

“You are so arrogant,” I say. “It’s no wonder your teammates don’t like you.”

“Think I give a shit?” Jamie scoffs. “They all know I’m the best.” He smirks. “And so will that reporter coming.”

My eyes widen. “Oh yeah, the reporter’s coming. Jamie, I guarantee you’ll blow them away.”

He looks confused at this, and I use this moment to tackle him to the floor. “What the fuck?” he demands angrily. Whipped cream is seeping into his jeans and shirt, and some of my feathers are transferring onto his clothes. 

“Well, Jamie, karma’s a bitch, and she’s with you right now,” I say.

He glares at me. “You stupid twat. You ruined my outfit for my interview!”

“You ruined mine first!” I shoot back. “Like you say, you’re so much more important than me. Maybe you’ll make this look the new trend.”

“Piss off,” Jamie says, his eyes blazing. 

“You ensured that I would get embarrassed on the Tube today. Thought I’d return the favor,” I spit.

“This is a national magazine,” Jamie says through clenched teeth. “It’s not the same and you know it. I’ll get you back for this.”

I scowl. “As if this prank wasn’t entirely your fault. But fine. You want a war? You’ve got one.”

A/N: Hi guys!!! I wrote this after getting super pissed off (in a good way) after reading a snippet of another Jamie Tartt fanfic on here, so I used like 3 lines from there to inspire this story and put my own unique spin on it. Also yes I had Y/N quote that song Jojo Siwa made famous and Brit Smith ~bodied~. She's such a girlboss, and I love seeing her put Jamie in his place. I also love writing slow burns!!

[mieanme]

Merman x Siren au

Hualian - (part III)

Another short update of the brainrot! Hope you guys like it ^•^

Previous parts: PART I, PART II.

And now let's go~~

***

With the octopus attached to him like a backpack, Xie Lian carefully approaches the outskirts of his pod's territory. The sea floor has already deepened here, so even if the day has already come, it's as bright as Xie Lian is used to. He rarely comes to collect trash in here, because no-one else beside the hunters would dare to get so close to the 'cursed' territory of a siren, so he already feels uneasy.

Xie Lian stops for a second when he reaches the small stone formation that works as a landmark for their border in this area. He looks around, as if he wanted to spot the so-called monster siren waiting just around the corner to greet him as soon as he enters its territory. However, all Xie Lian sees are stones, sea floor and a shadow of pitch darkness further away from the border.

The ocean trench.

Quick calculation occurs and Xie Lian comes to the conclusion that it's probably going to take him until the sun is in the half of its journey through the sky today to reach the trench. Even if it's visible from afar, Xie Lian is aware it's only an optical illusion. So, without wasting any more precious time, he launches from his spot, staying as close to the bottom as possible to not attract any unwanted attention to himself.

"Ruoye, if you see anything approaching us, let me know, please," he clicks, additionally tapping the octopus on the tentacle wrapped around his shoulder. Ruoye taps back, as if trying to say 'roger that', making Xie Lian a little less anxious. The octopus has an excellent vision and sense of the surroundings, so if it warns Xie Lian, the merman should have enough time to flee or hide, if they actually stumble across any danger.

Although Xie Lian expects the host of this territory to appear sooner or later, the only creatures he passes on his way to the trench are a few crabs, fish and a silly looking squid. He swims through a rather small kelp forest too and he finds himself feeling as if he was watched, but Ruoye doesn't alarm him and he himself doesn't see anything around, so he just keeps swimming as fast as he can.

Soon enough, he arrives at the entrance of the trench.

The enormous crack is probably a kilometre or so wide. As for the length and depth, Xie Lian cannot tell and is afraid to guess. He grabs a rock from the sea floor and gently tosses it inside the trench, watching is horror how it disappears in the dark. He gulps, waiting for the quietest sound of the stone hitting something, but nothing comes to his ears.

Only silence all around him.

"Guess I will have to find out how deep it is myself," Xie Lian clicks more to himself than to Ruoye, but then he turns his head to look at the animal at his back. "Maybe you should stay here? I will probably have to dive very deep, I don't know if you're gonna be fine with it."

But, just as he expected, Ruoye only hugged itself tighter to his back, silently refusing to let go of its favourite merman.

"Okay, I get it," he says, knowing very well he cannot argue with the octopus. He probably couldn't even free himself from its grip even if he really wanted. "But if you start feeling like you cannot take it anymore, just let go and swim back up, okay?"

The octopus agrees, pulling gently at Xie Lian's hair again. The merman smiles, actually feeling a little more at ease that he doesn't have to dive so deep all alone.

However, before he can make his mind on finally swimming into the darkness, Ruoye suddenly squeezes him and pokes his chest a few times with two of its tentacles.

An alarm.

Xie Lian quickly looks around, but he doesn't see anything approaching them. Ruoye must have sensed something then, but if it's not in their sight yet, there's still a chance for him to complete his mission without fleeting, right?

He looks around again, but the only hiding spot he can think of is this dark trench. However, after a moment it doesn't seem like such a very bad idea - in the darkness his white tail won't be visible too!

Without another thought, Xie Lian dives into the trench as Ruoye keeps squeezing his back and chest.

"It's okay, I'm not going deep, I will just wait for whatever it is to pass by us," he clicks quietly, but the octopus doesn't seem comforted at all. It even pulls harder at his hair and lets out a strange noise, as if really trying its best to call Xie Lian a 'very stupid merman'.

Ignoring the fuss Ruoye is making, Xie Lian sticks his chest to the sharp wall of the trench, only a few meters below the entrance. He really hopes it's enough for his scales to stop shimmering in the daylight and even Ruoye changes color as much as it can to hide in the darkness.

So Xie Lian waits... and waits, but nothing appears at the top of the trench. Ruoye has already given up on trying to convince him to escape back to his pod's territory, loosening its grip on the merman's body in case it would have to attack, or at least Xie Lian thinks so. He knows very well the octopus would try its best to defend him if there was a need for that. However, with how much time has already passed, the merman thinks there won't be any fight at all.

He slowly moves up to peak out of the trench, but sure enough he doesn't see any moving creatures all around. He steals a glance at Ruoye, and even if the octopus doesn't have any particular mimic muscles to form an expression, it looks deeply displeased with Xie Lian's actions.

"What? Seems like it's gone, so why are you looking at me like th—"

Xie Lian stops clicking in the middle of the sentence, when he finally feels it himself - the other being's presence. The water seems to move somewhere near him, so he backs down to his hiding spot, only to get his hair pulled by Ruoye once again, as if it was saying 'I told you so'.

Xie Lian desperately tries to see anything around him - but there's still nothing above.

Then the realisation hits him. But it's already too late.

Because if it's not above, it has to be underneath.

The second Xie Lian understands why Ruoye was trying so hard to make him leave the area of the trench, he senses another water movement right below himself. He looks down, but sees nothing beside the pitch darkness. Then there's another movement behind him. Xie Lian follows it and turns that way, only to spot nothing yet again. This repeats a few more times, before the other creature finally swims above the merman, casting an enormous shadow on Xie Lian's figure, and, to Xie Lian's terror, it halts in that spot, as if mockingly waiting for the merman to finally be able to see his enemy.

In the meantime, with the corner of his eye, Xie Lian managed to catch a glimpse of a bloody red fin decorated with sharp spikes. He doesn't have to turn his head up to know how badly he screwed himself up. Because now, without further questions, he knows exactly what creature Ruoye tried to warn him about.

The siren itself.

***

Xie Lian and Ruoye meet the Siren finally! Who's excited???? Lemme know how you like it so far ^•^ And what do you think the Siren is gonna do to the silly merman? 😱🫢😏

PART IV

[virtuousweakling]

Hantengu finds out you have an ED.

⚠️ mentions of ED but not ed sheeran, b-ing/p-ing, restricting, etc. ⚠️

Includes: steaminess

Enjoy! ❤️

(❇)❇(❇)❇(❇)❇(❇)❇(❇)❇(❇)❇(❇)❇(❇)❇(❇)❇(❇)❇(❇)

(❇)❇(❇)❇(❇)❇(❇)❇(❇)❇(❇)❇(❇)❇(❇)❇(❇)❇(❇)❇(❇)

Hantengu was watching you silently as you sat across from him at the dinner table in the well-hidden rickety little cabin you shared together in the woods. The sun was beginning to set and it wasn't time for him to go out just yet, so he had nothing to do but observe you eating your own dinner. You cleared your throat, breaking the awkward silence. "Um...could you not stare at me while I eat? It makes me uncomfortable. I'm sorry." You spoke in an almost defensive tone, trying to suppress the negative feelings that were arising in you. Feeding yourself was hard enough to do already and feeling someone's eyes on you while you did so was a hard no. "I-I wasn't staring!" Hantengu quickly looked down at the table, avoiding eye contact with you. "Hantengu, really, it's alright just... Try not to do it again." "But I swear, I wasn't doing anything!" You noticed he was beginning to tremble. "It's fine. Let's just drop it, ok?" You were not in the mood to argue so you decided to let it go. Hantengu sniffed as he nodded and you sighed, putting your fork down and excusing yourself to toss the remaining food in the trash. You were washing off your plate when you realized the sky behind the shabby cloth you put over the window (to protect Hantengu) was dark enough for him to head out. "You're probably starving, it looks safe enough to go out if that's what you need to do." Hantengu stood up and as he was about to walk towards the door, you asked him to come to you. He cautiously approached you and you leaned in to give him a quick peck on the cheek which made him flinch and as he turned away from you, you grabbed his bony wrist which caused him to shriek. "Wait a sec," you requested, as he shot back around to look at you. "Be safe, ok? I love you." Hantengu gave you a dying marriage side-face kiss and somberly exited the house.

The moment you saw the door shut, you charged towards the bathroom to evacuate the food you ate. A few minutes in you heard shuffling in the next room. "Y/N, I forgot to tell you that I-..." You quickly straightened your back and wiped your mouth, specks of blood vessels had burst beneath your eyes. Hantengu just blinked, noticing the vomit in the toilet and wondering if you became sick off of the food he'd been bringing you. Hantengu didn't let you leave the house in fear that you would abandon him (you know, the way he abandons you so frequently) so he had a tendency to steal human food from his victims and bring it back to you, claiming he "didn't know how he got it." He wasn't prepared to be accountable for any food poisoning you may have contracted. You began to talk with a rasp, "I can explain, I just..." Hantengu glared at you with a worried stare, listening. You flushed the toilet and rinsed your mouth with some tap water before asking him to sit down in your makeshift living area. He agreed, still nervous you were going to tell him he was at fault for something, but once you both sat down you reassured him it had nothing to do with him and that it was a 'you' thing. "Look, I'm going to explain this in a way I think is easiest to understand and if you're totally disgusted by me after this I get it." Hantengu's shoulders relaxed a bit as he realized it wasn't going to be a confrontation, but he looked so confused and he tilted his head slightly as you spoke. "Sometimes... I make myself throw up after I eat. I dunno I guess I've just done it for so long I..." He furrowed is bare, swollen brow bone, processing. "I restrict a lot, too, which is when I don't eat anything at all for a period of time and then I'll usually eat a ton of food and feel guilty about it. I feel like it's the only thing I can control, you know? I've never liked my body, and I never really felt like I...was in charge of anything. So when I do this, I feel like I'm the one in control." Hantengu took some time to consider everything you were saying, and he knew deep down exactly what you meant but in his own way. He thought to himself about how as a demon, he wouldn't be able to survive without human flesh and he honestly couldn't handle the idea of deliberately depriving himself of that, but he didn't enter that discussion solely because he'd have to open up about actively killing and consuming people. Hantengu paused before speaking and finally perfected the script in his deranged mind; "I...can't imagine why anyone would do such a terrible thing to themselves! Especially in a world where people hurt one another for no good reason at all! How pitiful it is to make yourself hurt when this evil world is capable as it is!" You honestly weren't too interested in reacting to what he'd just said you were so overcome with different emotions. You hugged your knees close to your chest as you looked up at the ceiling, attempting to dry your tearful eyes. "I guess... I guess I'm just going through a hard time, that's all. It's always been this way, I just don't talk about it. Not because I don't want you to know, it's just... Who really wants to hear about me, anyway?" Hantengu just sat quietly, looking down at the floor, taking in as much as his frantic mind would allow him. "Anyways," you tried to divert the subject, "you need to eat. Don't worry about me, I'll be fi-"

Suddenly your sentence was broken off by a kiss. Hantengu's dry lips pressed deeply into yours for what felt like five minutes. He pulled away and placed a frail, cool hand on your cheek. "I'm going to make a deal with you," he said calmly. "I won't eat if you won't eat." "Hantengu... It's not so easy..." Hantengu made another offer, this time more reasonable towards your own feelings. "I'll bring something back for myself and we will sit and eat together, how does that sound? And we'll sit together until you feel better. And if you feel bad, we'll figure it out." Who was this man? Is this the same Hantengu you knew? His consideration surprised you. You gazed into his glowing red eyes and pulled him in for another kiss, savoring the moment. "Ok. You have a deal." It's not as though your relationship was entirely distant and cold, you knew he was possessive over you and did indeed engage in sex with him quite often despite his frequent disposition of absolute terror and fear. In all actuality, Hantengu and you had sex on multiple occasions, a few of those times should have gotten you pregnant but your lack of period prevented that and you just never told him.

You leaned your head back in pleasure as he kissed your jawline, moving down your neck. He inhaled a spot on your throat deeply, particularly close to your main artery and you could tell he was beginning to drool at the scent like a hungry vampire. You caught your breath after a few light moans, "baby... Baby, you're starving. You need to eat." Your fingers were gently entwined in the remainder of his wavy black hair and he was slowly losing control of himself, nipping at you between kisses. You gave him a light, playful push and ordered him to go find someone -or "something"- to eat immediately. He already looked unhinged and emaciated as it was and him being in this state made him look even worse. Hantengu easily could have killed you right then and there and why he didn't was beyond you, perhaps your emotional vulnerability was a useful pawn in his narcissistic plans and hearing you vent was an extra bonus. Finally he agreed to leave and stood up, asking if you were absolutely sure you'd be ok if he left and he even offered to stay in for the night. "No, it's ok, really, do what you have to do. I'll see you when you get back." As Hantengu headed for the door, you stopped him one last time. "Hantengu?" "Hm?" He looked back. "What is it you'd forgotten earlier? You know, when you came back in?" His narrow, sunken red eyes looked so intense in the dim house only partially lit up by a couple of lamps. "I was just going to say that...well, I...I forgot to tell you that..." you looked up at him with big doe eyes, anticipating his next words. "That I love you."

Your heart almost skipped a beat at his kind words and you approached him for one last hug and kiss before sending him off. "Please be safe out there, I love you soooo much." He flashed a smile at you which he rarely ever did and nodded. You saw him out the door and once you knew he was officially gone, you squealed and threw yourself onto the pile of pillows you were sitting on. You kicked your feet in excitement at what he said, your heart still slowing down after your little session. You didn't care if he meant a single word he said, what mattered was the fact that he said it. Could he walk off and never return? Sure, but you knew how gullible you were to stay behind and wait for him. He could have turned up dead after a fatal encounter with a demon slayer and you still would have waited for him, devoted, never engaging with another man after him. You laid on your back, stretching your arms out and staring at the ceiling, daydreaming about you and Hantengu. Silly thoughts, such as picnics, freely and safely frolicking in the sun, kissing beneath a Sakura tree, etc. when...

"Oh, shit."

Suddenly your little fantasy was interrupted.

"How am I going to explain this to all of the clones?"

[birdsaretoddlers]

okay everyone promised to be niceys about it so here's a snippet of the first chapter of the neo-noir whatever the fuck i'm writing. everyone be nice or else i'll explode into a puddle of tears ok?

Red Vixen Returns! After what appears to have been a two year hiatus, famed cat burglar ‘Red Vixen’ has struck again, this time taking a stab at Overeasy Industries! Newest reports claim that the Phosphoril Rose was stolen last night out of its exhibit at the Museum of Earth Sciences. The CEO of Overeasy Industries has promised that any credible claim to it’s whereabouts that lead to the recovery of the artifact will be rewarded handsomely-

“Turn that off, would you, Vette?”

The television cycled off the news and on to a different news station, then more news, and finally, a gossip tabloid that, again, was covering the news. With a disgruntled hawk in her throat, the bartender tossed the remote onto the countertop, unable to escape chippy newscasters with dead eyes and fake cheer. “If you can find any channel not showin’ that, you’re welcome to it.”

The remote slid, spinning, over the scarred, heavily-lacquered wood. The man at the bar stopped it with the hand not currently holding his glass, tapped the channel buttons a time or two, and eventually settled on golf. The tournament lasted for all of fifteen seconds before the breaking news bled overtop of it, too. He finally turned the whole system off instead.

“Don’t know what you were expecting, Mars. It’s Overeasy. They’ve bought every station we get out here.”

“Mm,” said Mars. “Can’t hurt to try.”

“Awfully hopeful, coming out of you. Careful, someone might just try to steal that off ya.”

Knocking back the remnants of his drink, he set his empty glass an inch over the invisible line that begged for a refill. “Welcome to it. Not sure who I lifted it from myself.”

Vette smirked and pulled a pair of dirty bottles from the rack behind her, grey hair tied out of her face with a black leather cord. “Probably the Valentines, if I had to guess. Julio’s always got some to spare.”

“Julio’s full of spare parts. His brother and his sister in law aren’t much better.” Mars waited patiently as Vette offloaded old stock into his cup, then took it back with two fingers. “Dunno why you let your boy run around with ‘em. Gang types, through and through.”

Vette shrugged her shoulders and replaced the liquors to the shelf, sending up a puff of dust as she did. “Who cares where they came from? Keeps Tommy out from underfoot. Better he go knocking over trash cans with them three than the neighborhood boys. At least the Valentines know how to handle a weapon.”

Mars gave his head an acquiescing little tilt. “Just thought you’d stay away from cats that reek of a family, that’s all.”

Vette leaned over the bar with one arm, gesturing at the establishment, as much as it could be called that, with the other. “Hey, here at the Dog, everyone’s family as long as they leave their guns at the door. Doesn’t matter who killed who, what corp fucked over the next, anyone that wants a drink or somethin’ to eat can get it as long as they have the money to pay and don’t spill bad blood within two feet of the doorstep.”

That was true. This dive was the only place that was truly neutral in the entire town. The bartender looked and acted like she’d shoot you, along with her husband and the entire waitstaff, so nobody dared cause any trouble within the doors of the Sighthound. Otherwise called ‘the Dog’, by anyone who had been here more than once. The walls, floors, even the tables were stained with the arguments of generations of enemies who had come together to dine as strained equals, along with a hefty dose of grime. Smoke hung low in the air, mixing with the rank scent of desperation. The opened front door only did so much to clear it out, but hey, if having health insurance was mandatory by law, why not make good use of it?

Mars removed his hat to fan it under his nose anyway. He couldn’t smell the ethanol of his drink through this haze. Vette rolled her eyes, made a comment about his failing constitution, and wandered off without waiting for him to bite out a retort. “Sure, sure. Have to be the one born this minute to start anything here. You’d have ‘em sharing a scientific classification with a colander in a second.”

“Damn right.” Vette turned the television on again, though Mars hadn’t seen her swipe the remote out from under his sleeve. The news bulletin had faded, golf proceeded apace. She pulled a face and started looking for anything else. Mars sipped his highball and did not pull one, though tequila rose was not a proper ingredient no matter what old swill Vette was trying to cycle through the inventory tab. “That’s why we say two feet away from the door. Gives us enough time to close it before we start gettin’ stains on the hardwood.”

With a subtle glance behind him, Mars studied the floors. It was hard to tell there was wood under the inch of grit and mud, but he’d take her word for it. They were almost alone here. The ‘enforcers’ that were the Valentines were playing babysitter, the owner of the bar was up in his office, and who drank at two o’clock on a Tuesday?

Other than him, of course. And the guy that just walked in the door.

Vette looked up, blue eyes a-blinking. “Oh, that’s gotta be the lunch order. Hold that thought, Capone.”

[that-weeb-in-ur-closet]

It’s the voices anon, write how a normal day for any of the bsd characters (you choose) would start, but then it gets more and more bizarre and weird and they’re going crazy. Maybe with some crossovers too.

Also imma put a name for myself bc I CAN.

- 🚁💥 anon

That's basically just BSD in general, but yk what, why not ♡ thanks 🚁💥 anon !

I don't really understand the prompt but it's a good one, so

I'll start with...

Osamu D. ★★★☆★★★

As Dazai wakes up calmly in his futon, he looks around. Everything is in place. Everything is how he left it before he went to sleep. The empty bottle of wine from a year ago still on the floor. His work clothes hanging on the closet door. His bandages on his desk. Some guns randomly splayed across his room. And of course, the rope hanging from the ceiling.

It's completely normal.

So, what does he do? He gets up with a yawn, stretching out his arms and standing up. He takes off his shirt and starts unwrapping his bandages to put on new ones like he usually does, tossing the old ones in the trash as he wraps himself up.

Once he's done, he hears a knock on the window. He looks over with a "hm...?" To see a woman with a camera and microphone, screaming, "Sir, Sir!! Are you the one who keeps trying to kill himself and failing?" She yells, voice muffled through the glass.

He blinks. A few more times. Before a confused grin forms on his face as he walks over and opens the window. "This chick climbed up the building? I'm on the second floor..."

"Yeah, that's me! The infamous Osamu Dazai!"

He exclaims excitedly, grabbing one of the shirts that's lying on the floor to put it on. When he glances over the woman's shoulder, he sees a huge crowd of people bickering with cameras, notepads, etc. When I say huge, I mean at least a hundred.

He's absolutely stunned. How... Did this happen? No, what's happening in general?

"Sir—" "Dazai-!" "Will you," "Do you think—" "That boy is-"

The crowd mutters among themselves, writing things down while pointing the cameras at him. One person shouts louder than everyone, marching through the crowd.

"WHAT IS EVERYBODY DOING HERE?! LEAVE AT ONCE!!" As Dazai looks down, he sees Kunikida. He's extremely confused now. At first, he thought this was a joke, but after seeing Kunikida, he knew it wasn't.

After a minute of staring blankly, he closes the window and goes back inside, staring at his wall while thinking. "Is this because of the Port Mafia? No, she mentioned Suicide... Maybe it is?... Whatever."

He thinks to himself before he shakes his head, walking downstairs and to the office and looking at everybody. He sees Kunikida sitting at his desk, doing paperwork and immediately is even more confused. He looks out the window and the people are completely gone. Not a trace of them. Now he's slightly panicked.

"..... Good morning, Kunikida...." He mutters, not in his usual energetic and teasing tone, which makes Kunikida look up from his papers, raising a brow. "Good morning to you too, Dazai?" He says, going back to work.

Dazai just keeps blinking, standing in place. Which causes Atsushi to look over at him, tilting his head. "Are you okay, Mr. Dazai?"

Dazai pauses, seeing how everyone is being normal, just sighs and smiles. "Of course, I am! Why do you ask that~?"

"Well... Because you kinda have a rope around your neck–" Atsushi stops and sighs, seeing as that makes a lot of sense, since it's Dazai.

Dazai, on the other hand, stops smiling and feels his neck. There's a thick rope wrapped around it, wrapped pretty tight, but he doesn't feel any pressure on his neck whatsoever. He didn't put that rope on. "O-o-oh, I do, h-huh? Y-yeah, I guess I do..." He says, the panic clear in his tone. He didn't know what the fuck was going on anymore. He just woke up...

"Dazai, do you wanna go get some suicides with me?" Ranpo speaks up, leaning back in his chair with food in his hands.

"S-some... Some whats?" He asks, messing with the rope that's around his neck, eyes wide.

"No, Ranpo, you've had too many suicides! Don't trick Dazai into doing it with you!" Yosano pipes up, glaring at Ranpo.

"... Where am I?" Dazai asks, looking around. Everyone is quite clearly who they are. The Agency is the exact same. But Everything is weird. Why was there a crowd outside his window? Why was there a rope around his neck? Why was Ranpo talking about suicide?

He asks, looking around. Everyone looks at him like he's crazy, which he's starting to think he is....

A voice pulls him out of his thoughts, but he can't figure out where it's coming from. "Dazai... Dazai, wake up..."

"But... I am awake..."

"Dazai, open your eyes, come on..."

"My eyes are open...."

He thinks before a sudden pain in his cheek makes him jump out of what is happening. When he does, he's in a white room, lying in a bed. Nobody, but the nurses and doctors are there. There was no pain in his cheek. Or rope around his neck. Or crowd. Or Ranpo. Just doctors and nurses.

"Ah, you're awake. You ate some poisonous mushrooms and landed in the hospital. Please, don't be alarmed." The nurse speaks.

"Mushrooms... OH !! THE MUSHROOMS!! Another failed suicide attempt..."

"Don't be alarmed, huh? Well, the only thing that alarms me is your beauty, Belladonna~"

(This was my first time writing anything but smut for anime, so tell me how I did!! And if you want me to make this into a smut story lemme know! Thanks for reading!!!)

[fishwithtitz]

The Five Times I Hooked Up with Mary Goore (and the One Time I Couldn’t)

Summary: Mary had a certain…reputation around town. Equal blends of obnoxious and quiet, depending on who he was around, and not afraid of stirring up a little trouble if the occasion was right. The elderly were afraid of him, children gawked at him, and the “straight-and-narrow” folks were annoyed by his antics and “I don’t give a fuck” attitude. I’d heard stories of him being kicked out of bars for all sorts of interesting behaviors and fighting mouthy assholes in alleyways. I didn’t know him well enough to know if it was purely a stage act that filtered into his interactions or if it was really who he was. Prior to tonight, I hadn’t cared enough to really think about it.

“You coming?” His voice broke me from my mental back-and-forth and I looked up at him, noticing he had walked a few steps ahead of me, his body now turned to face me with his arm motioning toward the side yard.

Fuck it, I thought, nodding my head as I jogged to catch up to him. I guess I’m spending the evening with Mary Goore.

Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI

Mary Goore x OFC / 7.2k words

Warnings: language, graphic description of oral sex, mentions of animal harm (no animal harm actually occurs), recreational drug use

ao3 link

Chapter One: Hook-up #1: The Rooftop

It wasn’t that I was against going to a house party. During the handful of years that I’d experienced adulthood (and some of my teenage years as well), I’d been to plenty, and I’d seen some shit that still brought smiles (and shudders) to my face. 

No, it wasn’t a feeling of disdain or a lack of desire to be at the loud, crowded ranch-style home on the rougher side of town full of ornery drunk young adults; it was that I didn’t have the social battery to play the “party game” tonight. 

Desiree had dragged me out all but against my will. (“It will be fun!” She’d said. “Come on…a couple bands are going to play!”) Although I knew she was hoping her words would act as a catalyst for my desire to attend, it only made me roll my eyes. I’d been engulfed in the local music scene for ages and it was always a toss up which type of bands you’d see playing at house parties. 

Eventually, I’d resigned to my fate after she’d both used her big brown puppy eyes (which I’d lovingly nicknamed her “Puss in Boots” tactic), and a confession that she was trying to sleep with the guy that lived there and needed a little support. “Friends don’t let friends get cockblocked,” she’d argued.  So, after an hour of preening on her end and me smelling which clothes seemed the least likely to need a wash, we’d hopped in a rideshare and headed to the party on the other side of town. 

I’d lost track of Des after about ten minutes when she’d homed in on Thomas, the illustrious party-thrower and member of her current favorite local band. I’d received a pleading look and an air kiss as she’d locked arms with him and disappeared into the crowd. I assumed this meant she was abandoning me and would make it up to me later somehow. 

Currently, I stood with my back hugging the wood-paneled wall of a sunken den with a mostly gone PBR in hand, people watching. I sighed and took the last sip from my can, cringing a bit at the warmth and watery taste that a last sip always provides, and chucked the can in a nearby overflowing trash bin. 

The den wasn’t as full as the rest of the larger rooms of the house, which is one of the reasons I chose it. A thrash metal band was playing in the partially finished basement downstairs and their sound was loud and gritty enough to pierce through the subfloor and into the main level. Despite this, a few groups of people congregated around the den in various stages of conversation and drunkenness. 

I pushed myself off the wall and hopped up the half steps to round into the kitchen with a hope that it had been long enough for Des to reappear somewhere. I was almost instantly met with a crowd of people circling around the kitchen table in an energetic game of beer pong. My eyes peered through the space between two guys cheering on the team closest to us, and I could quickly see why the game was so lively: each successful shot resulted in both a drink and the removal of an article of clothing of the opposing team. 

I glanced across the kitchen to the clock on the stove. 11:17 PM. I’d been here for almost an hour and a half already. My social battery was nearly dead at this point, so I decided to hop out to the back patio for a little reprieve. It was surprisingly empty (which I credited to the band playing and the strip pong) and I slid into a plastic deck chair before pulling my vape out of my pocket and folding my legs up to criss-cross in the seat of the chair. 

I wasn’t sure how much time passed as I leaned back and gazed at the stars from between the branches of the old trees craning over the house and yard, but it couldn’t have been that long before I heard the screen door slide open and the light clunking of boot-trodden footsteps approaching. I didn’t glance up, instead flipping the vape back and forth through my fingers as if lost in thought. 

The sound of a seemingly male voice, who I attributed to the boot-man, interrupted my calm. 

“That shit is terrible for your lungs.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “I don’t do it that often,” I replied coolly. I’d hoped to escape conversation for a while by coming outside and I wasn’t all that interested in small talk. 

I glanced over to see the person who’d spoken to me and was met with a smirk and shrug from a mystery man. Golden brown hair hung down past his shoulders and onto his back, framing his angular face. His cheeks looked ashen - almost as if dark makeup had been wiped off - and he held a beer bottle in hand as he leaned against the railing of the old wood porch. His eyes didn’t falter and I searched to see if I recognized them. Were they green? Hazel? I couldn’t quite tell in the darkness of the patio and I surely didn’t know who he was.

Breaking our stare, and in a slight act of defiance, I took a long pull from my vape pen. The bitter, smooth taste of THC danced down my throat and filled my lungs. I exhaled the skunky-smelling vapor, trying to politely aim towards the other side of the patio, and immediately started to cough. Hard. 

“Oh shit, I didn't know that’s what you were doing,” the guy said with a look of surprise and a small laugh. I wanted to retort with something snarky (“What else would I be doing out here?”), but when I tried to form the words, I was overcome by continuous strings of deep coughs and wheezes as I tried to intake air. 

“Here.” He took a step closer and held out his beer to me. I furrowed my brow, my arm still covering my mouth as I shook through my coughing fit, but ultimately accepted it with a slight nod. The beer was cool on my throat and helped to soothe the self-inflicted soreness. I only needed a couple of small swigs before my breathing seemed back to normal and I could hand him back the bottle. 

“Thanks, um—...” I paused, looking him over in search of his name. 

“Mary,” he finished for me, accepting the beer back, “Mary Goore.”

“Dahlia,” I offered back, earning a tip of his bottle in reply. 

Now that I’d fumbled my way through breaking the ice, I couldn’t help but sneak a better look at him. He was surely taller than me. His frame appeared lean and muscular from what I could see underneath his leather battle jacket and tight black jeans. My suspicions about the shoes were also confirmed. He was wearing a pair of black combat boots that matched the sound of his clunking footsteps. 

“I don't think I've seen you around before,” he said after a beat, breaking me from my obvious study of his appearance. I looked away and took a much smaller drag from my vape pen. 

“I'm here with a friend. Or, well, I was.” I licked my lips, eyes cast through the screen door as I gazed at the busy kitchen, “I kind of lost track of her.”

“She ditched you? That's kind of shitty,” he replied.

I turned to look at him again and was met with those piercing eyes. Green I decided. Definitely dark green. Mossy. “I'm pretty sure she's off with Thomas. Somewhere.” I motioned my hand haphazardly in the air. “I don't know. It’s been over an hour since I’ve seen her.”

He chuckled at this and took another pull from his bottle. “Yeah, if she’s with Tommy, I wouldn’t expect to see her for a while.” He paused and looked towards the direction of the screen door before looking back at me again. “You not into beer pong?”

I shrugged and looked in at the kitchen again. “Bad aim.” He nodded and at this point I noticed that the girls on the losing team were nearly nude, only wearing their bras and panties, while the guys on the opposing team had only lost their shirts. “I also don’t feel like taking my clothes off.”

A smile graced his lips at my words. “So, you won't be following in your friend's footsteps then?”

I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks at his innuendo and I looked away to hide my embarrassment. It wasn’t that I was against casual sex. I wasn’t prude, per say, but the idea of talking about it openly and alone with a stranger made me a little uncomfortable. 

“Sometimes, I just need a break from the crowd. The noise and the...feeling of so many people around me—… It's nice to be somewhere a little more open and calm,” I said softly.

I exactly don’t know why I said it — I didn’t owe Mary an explanation and I certainly didn’t need to get personal with him. I suppose I was trying to steer the conversation away from my best friend’s hookup and the raunchy game happening inside.

Mary let out a chuckle at this admission and my brows furrowed defensively. “What?” I asked. 

He shook his head a little and the light pouring through the screen door to the kitchen illuminated his face, showing that the corners of his mouth were tugged in an amused smirk. “You crave calm, yet you come to a house party?” I felt myself bristle a little at this. “You’re interesting, Dahlia.”

He cast me a smile that was equal parts cocky and warm, and god, there were those eyes again staring right at me. I shook the thought from my head. 

“Why are you out here, then?” I asked in a defensive retort.

Mary shrugged again, nonchalant as ever, and took another sip of his nearly empty beer. “Lost a bet,”  he answered. 

I felt my heart drop as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Was he out here talking to me because of some stupid punishment for losing to his friends? ‘Go talk to the weird chick sitting by herself outside’? He must have noticed my reaction, because he quickly interjected. “—Not like that! I'm avoiding the guy I owe $20.” 

“Oh, so you're nosy and you're a sore loser,” I shot back in jest, turning my body in my chair to face him a little better. 

Mary rolled his eyes. “No, he's just an asshole and I don't want to give him the satisfaction of winning.”

I laughed a little at his response. “Arrogant, too.” I quipped. This earned me another cheeky smile. I felt the corner of my lips tug down in my own slight smirk and started to flip the vape pen between my fingers again. 

“You gonna share that?” Mary motioned to the vape, his eyebrow slightly raised in question. 

“I thought this shit was bad for your lungs?” I snapped back his own words quickly, a grin plastered to my cheeks. 

This earned me a laugh from Mary, warm and genuine, and he raised his hands up to his chest in defeat. “To be fair, I didn’t know you had weed. That changes things.”

I leaned forward in my chair, almost falling out as I passed the vape pen over to him. He raised the pen to his lips and I watched as they pursed around the mouthpiece. Before I could realize it, I found myself thinking about the fullness of his lips and the slant of his jaw as he took an expert pull. I sucked my own lips into my mouth slightly in response, trying to will-down the fluttering in my gut. He exhaled slowly and passed the pen back to me.

His eyes zeroed in on my form. I realized that I had probably been caught watching, and in a last ditch effort to hide the obvious expression on my face, I rolled my eyes. “Show off,” I said. 

Mary simply grinned proudly in response. Although I didn’t really know him, I can’t say I was surprised at his cockiness. We sat in silence for a few moments (which was weirdly not uncomfortable), and I leaned back once more in my chair to study the pin-pricked stars in the inky sky. It was only getting later, and the likelihood of me meeting back up with Des was slim. After a handful of minutes, I slipped my vape pen back in my pocket and began to zip up my jacket, standing up to stretch out my tired limbs. 

“You off?” Mary asked, breaking the calm quiet. He had since moved to sit in the other vacant chair just next to his spot on the railing, and one of his legs was folded up to rest along his other as he reclined in the plastic seat. I allowed my eyes to travel the expanse of his body, noting the well-worn band tee logo hidden underneath the patch-strewn jacket, as well as the holes and rips dotting the length of his pants. 

I mentally shook myself from my glance and put my hands in my pockets. I was staring again. “Yeah, I don't see Des returning anytime soon and I really don't feel like trying to buy my way into a crowd right now,” I began to rock back and forth on my heels as I studied my shoes. 

The sound of glass hitting something hard broke my focus and I jumped. Mary had thrown his bottle into the trash can across the patio and was standing up from his seat. When I looked up at him, he had a coy smile on his face. He must have seen me react to the noise. “Let’s get out of here, then,” he reasoned, walking over towards me. 

“Let's?...as in you and me?” I asked, eyebrow slightly cocked. 

He shrugged his shoulders and his hands found his own jean pockets. “Yeah, why not?”

I paused. 

It wasn’t like I hadn’t ever heard about Mary Goore before. On the contrary, I had heard many stories about him through the grapevine. We were both active in our local music scene - him, as a musician, and me, as a spectator - and hung out in some of the same circles. I’m sure I’d seen his band play at least once or twice at some point and I’d noticed him at various gigs and bars around town. I’d never met him before, though — his vibe was a bit too forward and intimidating for me to approach him in the past. 

Mary had a certain…reputation around town. Equal blends of obnoxious and quiet, depending on who he was around, and not afraid of stirring up a little trouble if the occasion was right. The elderly were afraid of him, children gawked at him, and the “straight-and-narrow” folks were annoyed by his antics and “I don’t give a fuck” attitude. I’d heard stories of him being kicked out of bars for all sorts of interesting behaviors and fighting mouthy assholes in alleyways. I didn’t know him well enough to know if it was purely a stage act that filtered into his interactions or if it was really who he was. Prior to tonight, I hadn’t cared enough to really think about it. 

Why did he want to spend time with me, of all people? There was an entire house full of partiers he likely knew and got along with. Plus, the now nude girls at the beer pong table were definitely a more enticing choice than a quiet girl getting high on the patio while she waited for her friend, the social lubricator. 

“You coming?” His voice broke me from my mental back-and-forth and I looked up at him, noticing he had walked a few steps ahead of me, his body now turned to face me with his arm motioning toward the side yard. 

Fuck it, I thought, nodding my head as I jogged to catch up to him. I guess I’m spending the evening with Mary Goore. 

🜏🜏🜏

Mary had led me through to the front yard of the house with ease before sidling up to the sidewalk towards the more urban part of town. I followed next to him and matched his pace, hands in my pockets as I looked around at the dark street. We were mostly quiet as we walked, which I didn’t mind. Maybe he reasoned that I didn’t want to engage in small talk since I’d purposefully separated myself from the party crowd, or maybe he was content to just walk. I wasn’t sure but was grateful nonetheless. 

We ended up at a 24-hour convenience store a few blocks from Thomas’ house. Mary motioned towards the door as if asking nonverbally if I wanted to come in, but I shook my head, holding up my vape pen to tell him that I was fine outside while he did whatever he’d planned on doing. 

It wasn’t a long wait, probably five or ten minutes, and I’d had enough time to take a few more hits of my vape pen to calm my nerves. My anxiety had started to bloom in my chest. I didn’t know Mary and I was alone with him, in the dark, walking around an area of town I wasn’t familiar with. I had made sure to ping Des with my location, sending a simple text of “left for a walk, be home later” (though I doubted she was in any position to check her phone). 

Mary emerged from the gas station with an armful of snacks and a brown bag stuffed with…something. I shook my head in disbelief and pocketed the vape pen again as I followed him down another unknown street. 

“Here, put these in your pockets since you have so many of them—” Mary grabbed a couple of small bags of chips from the arm holding them and held them out to me before stopping and turning to face me, “—why the fuck are you wearing cargo pants?”

My eyes widened in defensive disbelief. “I like them!”

He laughed and cocked a brow at me. “Is that like a...scouts thing? You one of those doomsday preppers or secret militiamen?” I could feel the snark dripping from his tone. He was enjoying this. 

“They're literally just pants! They're comfy and they're cute and I—” I sighed, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of my nose, “I do not have to explain this to you.”

Mary pushed the bags of chips into my chest playfully and I quickly struggled to grab onto them. Dropping them would be the icing on the shit cake of embarrassment. 

“...you didn't steal these, did you?” I asked as I eyed him cautiously. 

Mary, who had begun walking again, turned his head to look at me with a glance of disbelief, surprise, and possibly a tinge of irritation. I felt my heart sink a little with guilt and I let out another defeated noise. 

“Fine. I'm only doing this because I feel like I owe you,” I grumbled, stuffing the small chip bags into my cargo pockets. 

“Scouts honor?”

“Fuck off, Goore.”

We walked down a winding sidewalk, the street completely empty and illuminated eerily with various old street lamps, some flickering in exhaustion. It had grown quiet again (except for the shaking, crunching noise of the chips in my pockets) and this time I felt like I had to break the dead air. 

“Where are you taking me?” I asked quietly. 

He didn’t turn to address me. “Somewhere quiet and calm. Just like you wanted.”

I felt that familiar heat rising to my cheeks and my momentary anxiety cooled. “Thanks,” I eventually replied. 

“Don't mention it,” he said with a slight smile, before his expression changed to one of seriousness, “Really, don't mention it. I have a reputation to uphold.”

I laughed. “Yeah, I've heard. Did you really microwave a cat?”

Mary suddenly stopped in front of me and turned around, causing me to nearly run smack-dab into his chest. “What the fuck?” he exclaimed with furrowed brows. “I might be an asshole, but I don't fuck with animals. That shit is psycho.” He shook his head and pointed to one of my pockets, the one holding the vape, and I took this as his way of asking for it without really asking. I handed it to him and we started walking again. After a long drag, he looked over at me, our paces now matched, and exhaled with a lewd smile. “The only pussy I eat is in between the woman’s legs that are squeezing my head.” 

I cleared my throat to hide my noise of surprise at his boldness. It didn’t work and he laughed at the stunned expression on my face. 

“So, um, what’s in the brown bag?” I asked, changing the subject. 

“A forty. And shaved ice.” Mary handed me back the pen and motioned to the left before turning down another quiet street. I looked at him curiously. “Come on, we're almost there.”

Mary started to jog off the path through some bushes that lined the sidewalk and I scurried to keep up with him. It was almost comical watching his lean body try to move quickly without dropping his bounty and I had to hold back a snort. He led us through a bank of trees and through some overgrown grass (during which I made sure to threaten that if I got a tick I would beat his ass) before stopping in front of a small building. 

It was an old, abandoned warehouse that sat just off the main road. The structure was all cement and brick with worn shingles and overgrown vines, but in the starlight, it looked oddly beautiful. 

Mary walked up to the side of the structure and pushed some tree starts to the side, revealing an old ladder that had been purposefully tucked away. “I was hoping this would still be here,” he breathed out as he pulled it to the side and repositioned it against the cracked facade of the building, wiggling it a little to test its sturdiness. “Come on.”

Mary took the paper bag he’d been carrying and gripped it between his teeth as he climbed up the rickety ladder. I hesitantly followed, bouncing a little on the bottom step to make sure it wouldn’t break under my weight, and eventually hoisted myself onto the dirty, rough shingles of the building’s roof. Mary held his hand out to help me find my footing, and we walked over to what looked like the most stable area of the top of the graffitied building. 

We sat down beside one another and Mary started arranging his goodies. I, on the other hand, leaned back, my hands stabilizing behind me with knees bent so that I could glance up at the night sky. The moon was visible and constellations dotted the great expanse above us. Everything was much more visible from our elevated position. Sounds of crickets and a faraway frog teetered through the air. He was right —  this was much more peaceful than the party. I could feel a smile creep onto my face again at his thoughtfulness.

“So, tell me how come I haven’t seen you around before?” Mary started as he spread his legs out in a v-shape against the tiles of the roof. 

“You probably have and just haven’t noticed. I’ve seen you a couple of times at bars and stuff.” I played with the zipper on one of my pants pockets and tried to sound as neutral as possible. I didn’t want to give the impression that I cared that he didn’t know who I was…even if that wasn’t necessarily true. 

“Shit, sorry,” Mary awkwardly laughed and shot me an apologetic smile.  

I returned it warmly. “It’s fine. I don’t have much of a memorable face…or presence for that matter. I’ve come to accept that.”

“I’m guessing you’re into the music scene? Or is that just your friend?” Mary opened up the brown paper bag and took out the forty and a lidded double cup of shaved ice. I watched as he unsheathed the second cup and distributed the now sloshing ice between both cups, before cracking open the beer to pour into both of them. 

“I dabble,” I passed him a small grin and accepted the cup with a silent nod, “I’m not as active as I used to be. Life and…stupid shit got in the way.” I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding and looked down at the icy mess in the cup.

“Boyfriend?” Mary questioned. 

I nodded. “Ex.”

“Ahh. Someone I know?” he asked as he took a swig of his drink.

“Brody Gillings.”

Mary immediately sputtered out the beer concoction and laughed loudly, wiping the corner of his mouth with his leather jacket sleeve. “You dated that tool? Oh fuck, that’s funny. I’m so sorry.”

I watched him as he shook his head, still laughing, and rolled my eyes in response. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, get it out,” I paused and took a sip of my own drink.The taste of hoppy beer had been muddled down with water and gritty ice and I couldn’t help the disgusted look that painted my face. “Jesus, Mary, this is awful,” I choked out.

Mary returned the chuckle and to my surprise, he looked down at his own cup sheepishly. “Yeah, beer slushies sounded like a good idea in my mind, but come to think of it, I’ve never put ice in my beer. Shit’s watery as fuck.”

I shot him an apologetic glance before allowing a beat of silence to overtake the rooftop. I found myself speaking before I even realized it was my voice that cut through the air. “It…wasn’t always bad. He was charming for a while. Introduced me to a few black metal bands that I like.” I let out another small breath and licked my lips as I picked at a stray thread on the fabric of my pants. “Everyone makes mistakes,” I looked up at him, a resigned tug at my lips, “Mine just lasted a couple years too long.”

Despite how awful they tasted, Mary gulped down a chunk of his homemade icee with a nod. “Didn’t he move to Milwaukee to join some up-and-coming band or some shit?”

This time, it was me that choked out a surprised laugh. “Is that what he told people?!” I shook my head and scoffed. “Makes sense. He’s all about appearances.” 

It was true - my ex had been the kind of person who reveled in his reputation in town. The big, bad bassist that could break necks and down more shots than the whole bartop combined. I turned my head to look over at Mary. “He moved to Florida to take care of his grandma. She’s close to death and he’s itching to be written into the will.”

He raised his eyebrows in retort. “Wow, he just keeps getting shittier.”

“Seems to be the running theme with Brody.”

As time wore on, we filled the night air with pleasant and comfortable conversation, Mary sharing about the bands he’d played in and his current band, Repugnant, which were trying to set up a small coastal tour.  I shared a little about my job and my friendship with Desiree, and we sipped our beer slushies until they were mostly gone and had became more water than beer. 

Talking with Mary seemed natural. It came easily. Despite not truly knowing who he was as a person, I spoke with him like he was an old friend. I didn’t feel an air of judgment with what I chose to share with him, and he seemed appreciative that I wanted to know more about the things he enjoyed. Specifically, his music. 

After a while, my head was feeling a little fuzzy from the weed and the beer and I allowed my eyes to close as I relaxed against the scratchy shingles. As the sound of a nearby bird cooed in the distance, Mary reached over and surprised me by looping a licorice rope around my neck. Where he had kept it during our walk over, I had no idea. 

“A licorice rope? I haven't had one of these since I was like...eleven.” I reached up and pulled the rope down to remove the wrapper before biting off a small piece. 

I looked over at the gutter punk beside me to see him tying his own rope in knots, having already removed and discarded the entirety of the wrapper onto the ground below us. 

“Their R&D is genius,” he started, hands working the candy into an intricate knot, “They're like a gateway to BDSM. Perfect for preteens who like pre-bondage.”

I felt myself choke on my bite of licorice and I let out an incredulous laugh. “Mary! I'm pretty sure that's not what these were designed for.”

He paused his tying and looked over at me with another one of his trademark smirks. “Are you saying you're not into bondage? No surprises for me in those cargo pants?”

I felt my cheeks flush and I took another bite to hide my embarrassment. “I am not answering that question.”

This seemed to amuse him, but he let it go when he saw my bashful response, quickly changing the subject. “Hey - chips,” he snapped playfully, hands reaching out in a grabby motion. I unzipped the pockets of my pants and threw the chip bags at him. Annoyingly, he caught the bags without hesitation and ripped open a bag of Lays, quickly shoving a chip into his mouth. 

I tossed him a look. 

“I know it's not microwaved cat, but—”

“— it's no pussy either,” he interrupted, mouth full of chips as he chewed. 

“You're really obsessed with that, aren't you?” I leaned toward him, a hand on my hip as if to teasingly scold him.

He beamed beside me. “Who wouldn't be? There is no better feeling than having your face between some chick's thighs....”

This time, the silence between us was notable. I looked down and bit my lip, not exactly knowing what to say in response. Mary was so nonchalant, so chill yet matter-of-fact in talking about his experiences. It was something I envied. 

He must have caught on to my nervous aura because he set the bag of chips down and rotated his whole body to face me. His eyebrows raised in shock. “...wait, seriously?! You've never—”

“—I've never been with someone that liked it!” I spat out, heat flushing my face as I looked away in mortification. 

“Damn, Brody really was a dickhead. I guess that shouldn't shock me.”

I released a deep breath of resignation and reached up to rub my palms against my eyes, pushing away the burgundy locks that had fallen into my face. “He wasn't the kind of guy who cared about how I felt….in a lot of ways, actually,” I admitted. I could feel Mary’s eyes on me —  studying me — and I avoided them like the plague. 

“...And other guys? Before? They didn't go down on you?” He sounded confused.

I paused. I’m pretty sure I audibly gulped, but my heart was racing so fast that I didn’t really know what was happening. I fiddled with the thread between my fingers, twisting it as I tried to figure out how to respond. "I never reall— what are you doing?!"

My words were interrupted because Mary had shifted from beside me and was crawling over my outstretched leg, settling in between my knees to face me straight on. He was only a few feet from the edge of the roof. “Mary, what the hell? You’re going to fall!”

He ignored my protests. “I'm showing you what you're missing out on,” He said as he saddled himself in between my legs. His eyes flickered up to mine and god damn it, the green hue was almost glowing in the moonlight. He licked his lips and continued. “I'm not gonna let you go through life without experiencing this at least once.” 

He can’t be serious. I chuckled nervously and shook my head. “No, Mary, it's okay, really, you don't have to,” I said, but my words were clearly said in vain. His hands were already resting on the green fabric covering my knees. His grip was soft yet firm, and I felt a lump form in my stomach. 

“I know, I want to,” he grinned, then quickly added, “Platonic head. Just two people enjoying themselves.” Mary raised one hand to his temple and gave me a two finger salute, a mock look of seriousness on his face. “Scouts honor.”

“Fuck you,” I laughed out at his jab. Despite the situation, I felt myself relax a little under his touch. He looked at me lecherously. 

“Maybe if you play your cards right.” He winked at me and sat back on his knees, his hands beginning to brush up my thighs as if to ask silent permission to continue. I swallowed roughly and looked down at his fingertips as they moved across the inseam of my pants and up to the button at my waist. 

I lifted my hips up towards him as his hand ghosted over the button at my waist. He effortlessly popped the button through its closure and slipped both hands under the waistband before pulling the pants down my legs. I silently thanked myself for deciding to shave my legs in the shower this morning as the fabric slid down my calves before being kicked off to the side. I was left in my jacket, tank top, and luckily, a cute pair of lacy black cheeky panties that I had thrown on quickly before we left for the party.

Mary moved a little closer, leaning in as he ran his palms up and down my inner thighs. My skin was pale - maybe even more so in the moonlight - and his hands felt electric with every stroke. I leaned back on my elbows and looked at him through anxious eyes. His long hair hung in strands that perfectly framed his face and at that moment, I noticed just how attractive Mary was. His features were nearly chiseled and masculine, yet his movements were fluid, confident, and soft, almost like he was afraid to break me. 

“Damn, your skin is so soft,” he muttered out, more to himself than anyone else, and he leaned down to press his lips against my inner thigh. I closed my eyes and let out a shaky breath as I felt him kissing along the sensitive skin there. He was dangerously close to my core and I suddenly was feeling self-conscious at having a person I had just barely met touch me so intimately.

Mary must have sensed my apprehension, because he looked up at me with kind eyes, lips still pressing against my leg. “Relax,” he breathed out, his thumbs rubbing circles against my skin, “You deserve to feel good.” I nodded and let out another relaxing breath, eyes closing as I tilted my head back slightly towards the sky. 

Had someone told me yesterday that Mary Goore would be eating me out on an abandoned warehouse rooftop, acting completely romantic and sweet and selfless, I would have told them they were fucking high. Yet, after talking with Mary all evening, I realized just how gentle he was. How he’d taken the time to get to know me, to ask about my past, to insinuate that I deserved better than aggressive assholes that used metal music as an excuse to antagonize women. I also realized that I was just as bad as the people that looked down at him for the clothing he wore or the music he played. I’d decided to let my assumptions cloud my interpretation of someone I didn’t even know.

His mouth moved closer and broke me from my rabbithole, his teeth grazing against the curve where my leg met my groin, and he brushed his cheek against the fabric of my panties. I felt myself biting down softly on my lip, fingertips pressed into the textured rooftop, and my hips moved just barely at the contact. He chuckled and brought his hands to rest against my hip bones, fingers sliding under the band of my underwear as he pressed a kiss to my mound. Without another word, he slid my panties off and down my thighs before pocketing them. I’m sure he’d hoped I wouldn’t notice and I made a mental note to confront him later about it.

I lay bare in front of him, half naked against the quiet slate, our only neighbors being the surrounding wildlife and the glowing stars above. Mary pressed another kiss to the bare skin of my pussy before wrapping his arms around my thighs and gently pulling me closer to his mouth. I could feel his breath fanning over me and it felt chilly against the wetness that was now gathering at my center. 

He was still for a moment, our breath the only sound punctuating the night, before I felt him lick a stripe up my slit, barely touching my clit before pulling away. I let out an embarrassingly loud moan and reached up to cover my mouth in surprise. I felt him laugh against my thigh. 

“Be as loud as you want, dollface. There’s no one around for blocks.”

I nearly felt myself puddle at the nickname and before I could respond, he was licking against my folds again, fingertips gripping tightly against my thighs. I opened my eyes and looked down, raking in a breath at the sight of the emerald-eyed man between my legs. His gaze was trained on my expression and his tongue was now moving up and down teasingly, trying to get a reaction from me as we locked onto each other. 

Mary moved his tongue up to my clit and massaged it lightly before wrapping his lips around it and sucking down harshly. I arched my back helplessly and let out a loud moan in response, my thighs beginning to squeeze against the sides of his head. My actions earned me a lustful groan in reciprocation. 

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he murmured against my skin, kissing my labia before diving in to sloppily lick around my clit, pointing his tongue as he flicked it rhythmically. The motions sent shockwaves to my center and I all but crumbled.

“Oh god, Mary,” I said breathlessly, laying down completely as if to surrender to his ministrations. Had I not been so distracted by his movements, I’d likely have felt his cheeky smile against my core. He knew he was good at what he did and he got off on these reactions. Now that I had a taste of what it felt like to have him between my legs, I was more than happy to give him exactly what he wanted.

The weed was really starting to take effect and my limbs started to feel tingly and heavy. I let myself relax into the roof and against Mary, no longer caring about the tiny noises he was working from me with each movement of his mouth. One of his hands left its place on my quad and snaked between us before barely brushing against my entrance. He gathered the slick there and without warning, he pushed inside of me gently, his tongue lapping from his finger up to my sensitive nub.

Mary started to pump inside of me before adding another, the angle shifting before he hit the spot that had me seeing explosions of light dancing in my vision. I buckled my hips up into his face and he moaned lewdly, rubbing his fingertips against my g-spot as he licked and sucked at my core. With each ministration, each caress of his tongue, I felt the tingling deep in my abdomen building and my knees shaking. 

“R-right— fuck, right there,” I whimpered out, my pelvis rocking against his movements. I felt my legs tighten against his head again and without thinking, I reached down to card my fingers through his long, caramel locks, gripping onto them as I guided his head against me. “Don’t stop,” I choked out in an almost sob. I was close and he could tell, because he sped up, increasing the pressure of his tongue as he pumped his fingers in and out of me. 

Mary let out another intoxicatingly attractive groan at my words. “You gonna cum on my tongue, kitten?” he all but growled against my folds. I was so close that I could feel myself dripping onto him and I nodded fervently. “Mmph, good girl. Come for me,” he purred, his tongue circling around my clit before clamping down and sucking hard. 

I completely lost it at that moment. My thighs trembled as I felt the tightness in my abdomen snap, flooding waves of intense pleasure and electric heat throughout my core and into each cell of my body. My grip on his hair tightened and I let out a near-scream of ecstasy as I came undone around his eager tongue. 

Mary continued to work me through my release, his forest-colored eyes watching my every expression as he kissed and sucked at my wet heat. He only stopped when I felt overstimulation take root and pushed lightly at his cheek to signal that it was too much. 

Mary ran his tongue along my slit once more, gathering up my cum with a lascivious gleam in his eyes before releasing his grip on my legs and sitting back. My head had since dropped back against the cool shingles and I was nearly panting, my whole body shaking from the intensity of my orgasm. 

“Holy shit,” I breathed out after a beat, a broad smile tugging at my face as I brushed some of my long, dark red strands from my face. I took a moment to look down at the pleased punk in front of me and watched as he dipped the fingers that had been inside of me into his own mouth, cleaning them off with an obscene slurp. Heat panged at my stomach again and I nearly came from watching him. Fuck, he was hot.

“You taste incredible,” he said before wiping my slick from his mouth and chin, a seductively satisfied grin on his face. I felt myself flush at his words and I let out a bashful giggle, licking my lips as I watched him relax back on his knees. 

“So,” he asked after a minute, reaching out to stroke the pads of his fingers up and down the delicate flesh of my thighs, “Was I right? Nothing better, huh?” He stared at me with lust-blown pupils. 

I sat up slightly to face him and sucked my lips into my mouth briefly to attempt to hide my resigned smirk. Reaching up, I threaded my hands through his messy hair, the pad of my thumb rubbing sweetly against the angle of his jawbone. I guess it wouldn’t kill me to give him a tiny victory.

“Shut up, Goore.”

[carminecandles]

♫⋆｡ I hate myself for loving you ₊ ♪˚

prologue here

chapter one here

desc: punk!f!munson!reader and sub!Steve Harrington are not too fond of each other. However, unspoken tension becomes unbearable when stopping at a motel on a group trip, you both have no choice but to share a bed. Will you two settle your differences or find other ways to make the other shut up?

Chapter 2: like the sun and moon

(tw: toxic dynamics)

Shortly thereafter, you toss and turn in your sleep. Steve sees the look of distress on your face and reaches out, hand hovering over your shoulder, wondering if he should wake you up.

You dream about the upside down again, the memories still haunting you as they still do for all of you guys. Steve watches your body tense and trash, clearly in the grip of a nightmare.

When you yell out he immediately shakes you awake gently, so that the sudden intrusion wouldn’t startle you further. "No, no. You're dreaming, y/n. It's okay," he whispered, grabbing you and pulling you into his arms as soon as you shoot up in horror.

You tremble a little, still too disoriented to realize Steve was holding you tight against him, rubbing your back in attempt to soothe you. Soon you steady your breath, the worry slowly draining out of your body as you realize you're safe, that you all are. As you come back down to reality you pull away from Steve, as if you were suddenly remembering that you're enemies.

Steve feels a little disappointed, an emptiness filling the space where he had just held you. "Are you okay?" he asks softly, his voice low and gentle.

"Yeah…" you reply a bit too harshly to cover up the shakiness in your voice. Steve understands your defensiveness all to well, knowing that vulnerability is terrifying, especially in front of someone you're supposed to hate. He doesn't push you to talk more as you hide behind a wall a toughness.

You drag a hand across your face. Steve's concern eventually gets the better of him and he asks, "Was it the monsters or something?"

You nod slowly, avoiding his gaze. He tries to lighten the mood and says, "Hey, at least I was okay in it, right? I was probably fighting them off and being cool."

The memories of Steve protecting you guys come back, and maybe it did look kind of cool but you'd never give him the satisfaction of admitting it. "Are you forgetting your dumbass keeps getting beat to the point of near death?"

Steve feels irritated at your jab. "It's not my fault the upside down keeps trying to kill me."

"And Billy, and the Russians, and--"

"Okay, enough. Point taken, I guess. I do have a bad habit of getting my ass kicked," he says with a resigned sigh, not wanting you to push it in any further. He's been through it more times than he can probably count, and it never gets any easier.

The shift in conversation offers you relief from the horrors you just relieved, and you chuckle. "It's gonna catch up to you someday, man."

Steve shakes his head in mock annoyance, secretly glad you're back to your teasing self and not the panicked mess you were earlier. He can't help but smile at the sound of your chuckle again. "Oh come on, I always manage to survive. Like a cockroach."

"You kinda look like one too," you say, trying to deny to yourself that you actually found him attractive.

"Excuse me? Are you calling me ugly? Well, you're one to talk. You're not exactly some model yourself," he says, though it's the opposite of how he truly feels.

"At least I can admit that," you retort. Steve might be pretty, but he knows it, damnit. That's what gets on your nerves.

"Hey, I might just be the best-looking guy in Hawkins."

You roll your eyes. "'Cause Billy's dead? It's not like you have other things going for you anyway."

He scoffs. "I do!"

"Name one."

"Well, let's see. I'm pretty good at basketball, I'm a loyal friend, and I'm quite charming if I do say so myself," he says.

"You were a sh*t captain who kept Hawkins from being in the championship or winning for years."

"Not true, I was a great one!" "As for the 'friends,' you make fun of them, jerk. And charming, my ass. You probably repel women."

Steve gives up on trying to defend himself, knowing it's pointless and you'll keep going at your brutal takedown. He secretly knows you're right but it doesn't make it hurt any less to hear it said out loud. That damn smirk, he thinks. Who does she think she is to constantly want to humble me?

"Yeah, yeah, you're a real know-it-all. You always gotta be right, don't you?" he says sarcastically, annoyed by your smugness but also feels a bit of begrudging respect that you never stand down.

"Because I am always right," you say, jokingly.

Steve shakes his head in disbelief at your confidence. "You've got a real ego problem, you know that? You think everyone else are just incompetent idiots." "Not everyone, just you," you say, trying to get under his skin.

"What did I do to deserve your harsh judgment? Other than saving your ass multiple times?"

You knew that it was true, he has saved you, and you him. "So that immediately makes up for everything you did? Besides you were just tryna be a hero and all that, and I can take care of myself you know."

He almost laughs at your stubbornness. "You can take care of yourself, huh? I guess that's why you almost got mauled by those demodogs. You'd be dead right now if it wasn't for me."

"You would be too," you say. Steve won't admit it outright either. You've both saved each other's asses many times before.

"That doesn't change the fact that you're a stubborn, know-it-all who's allergic to admitting you need help sometimes."

You know there's truth to his words deep down. "And you're just a narcissistic wannabe hero who wants to show off and have people cheer for you all the time."

Steve feels a stab of anger. "And you're just a cynic who refuses to see the good in anything, always assuming the worst in people."

"I just see the truth, and I don't think you're all that. You need to be knocked down a few pegs."

"Oh really? And you think you're the one to that, huh?" "But I have been doing that," you say, thinking of how you refused to put up with his bullsh*t and called him out for his attitude since the day you met.

"I'm not just gonna roll over and take it, you know?"

"Obviously why you're insufferable."

A small smirk tugs the corner of his mouth. "Says you. You're just as insufferable, actually more so."

You huff, running out of comebacks. "You can't offend me if I don't care about your opinion anyway."

Steve finds this ridiculous and tries to rile you up further. "If you don't care about my opinion, why are you still here arguing with me at two in the morning?"

"Because you f*cking woke me up!"

"I didn't do it on purpose, you were the one thrashing around and screaming my name in your sleep."

"Not like that, damn it," you joke.

Steve smirks, knowing he pushed the right buttons. "What's the matter? Don’t like being called out on your subconscious love of me?"

"Oh you wish, Harrington," you deny quickly. "That would sure feed your ego, wouldn't it?"

He knows he hit a nerve and continues. "Come on, don't pretend. It's not like it's a secret you've got a little thing for me."

"No, sorry dude but you remain b*tchless and desperate," you say.

"Ha, you're one to talk. You're single too, in case you've forgotten. So we're both b*tchless and desperate."

"Well at least not the desperate part, if I wanted to I can get almost anyone I want." Steve chuckles at your confidence, finding it both obnoxious and attractive. "If you're so irresistible why aren’t you taken, then?"

He had a point, you thought. But you weren't looking to date at the moment. At least that's what you say to yourself. Sure, you have had casual flings lately but… something is holding you back from more. Your feelings lie elsewhere. "Well maybe I'm just not interested in anything serious."

"Figures. You just want to have your fun and move on."

"Hypocrite, much? That's what you used to do."

He remembers his past reputation for going through girls like they're disposable, knowing he can't argue with the accusation since he had his fair share of using girls for fun and moving on when he gets bored. "That's in the past okay? I'm not that guy anymore."

"Well in my eyes you still are just a heartless douche." You couldn't stand his 'King Steve' persona.

Normally Steve wouldn't give two sh*ts what people still thought of him but for some reason your opinion irritated him, and he couldn't understand why it even matters.

"And to me you're a defiant nuisance. You think you're some sort of rebel, with all that anti-conformity feminist blah blah blah."

"Shut up, you're just a mindless former jock that was obsessed with the stupid social hierarchy."

He scoffs. Did you still see him as nothing more than a brainless cog in the machine that is the high school hierarchy? It's  been long since graduation, for crying out loud. "You really think that's all I am? Some mindless jock that only cares about popularity?"

"Well yeah, you were a total d*ck like every other popular kid, and probably still are… you couldn't have changed THAT much even though you pretend," you say, still hesitant to trust him after your guys' past.

Steve feels frustrated that you don’t acknowledge he's changed, that his past actions don't define his entire character. "So I'm still a d*ck even though I went through hell and back saving the world more than once? Risking my life countless times to protect my friends and a town that hates me? You think that counts for nothing?"

You knew he had truly changed, you saw it firsthand. But you just couldn't admit to him now when you're put on the defensive. "Town that hates you? Pfft. Please, your little daddy's rich and respected, you spoiled boy."

That mention of his dad feels like a punch in the gut. "You're gonna bring him into this now? You think having a rich dad makes everything easier? You know nothing."

"I'm the town freak here. A f*cking Munson, and thanks to my cousin I get called a Satanist and trailer trash on a daily basis. You can't know what that's like." You don't mention that Steve himself even called you insults somewhere along those lines, plus the ones that hurt the most were about your sexuality, which you used to keep hidden for a reason. Even though he might be accepting now but it wasn't always the case.

Steve can't argue that he knows what it's like to be hated and ostracized by the town in the way you are. "Okay, that's different. But it doesn't mean I don't have problems too. And you seriously believe I was the same arrogant prick I was back in high school?"

"Well I wouldn't know, you're still such a pain."

A pain. That's all he is to you. He doesn't know why it hurts despite being a common insult you've thrown at him. "And you're so f*cking pleasant all the time."

You roll your eyes, knowing you can't deny it.

Steve found you infuriating, but he can't bring himself to hate you for it. He was oddly attracted to your fiery personality. "You just love being the pain in my ass don't you," he scoffs.

"I can cause another pain in your ass," you say, chuckling.

Steve pauses. You're just referring to something violent… right? "And what exactly do you mean by that?"

"Have you ever been pegged, Harrington?" you say, only half-joking.

Steve nearly chokes on his saliva but quickly composes himself, not letting you get the satisfaction of seeing his reaction. "What the hell kind of question is that?!"

"I was kidding," you say with a laugh, watching the pink rise in his cheeks. Secretly you want to do it, but you force the thoughts to stop distracting you.

"Yeah, yeah. Real funny," he grumbles. Steve hides his curiosity under a façade of irritation. He hadn't actually, but he wouldn't mind it being done by you.

"You still always seem to have something shoved up your ass though, except not as pleasant."

"You're the one with a stick up your ass, not me," he replies.

"Fine, fine. But I'd shove one-" "Woah, you're threatening me right now?" he says as you chuckle, his eyes narrowing. "What's so funny? You really think you can take me in a fight? You might have some muscles sure, but you're still a chick. I could pin you down in seconds."

You try to resist the urge to tell him to do it, as tempting as it was. But you smile and say, "Is that a challenge, Harrington?"

With that he lunges, unable to resist the opportunity to prove his point and wrap his arms around you, using his weight to press you onto the bed. "Since you're so eager to get your ass kicked."

Your foot connects with his side, and he grunts, feeling a stings where you hit him. "Jesus, ow! What was that for?"

He lets go of you and glares, rubbing his side. You use this moment to flip you two over, and Steve was caught off guard. You were back in the same position as earlier in the night, straddling him again. You couldn't resist shifting your hips to get comfortable and he has to back a moan. Instead he focuses on your smug grin and how you're mocking him to ignore the feel of you on him.

"You like getting your ego stroked like this, huh?" At that you put your hand over his mouth to shut him up.

He was about to protest some more but feels his cheeks warm up with the way you're dominating him, feeling both humiliated and aroused at being silenced like this. He hates how much he likes this but keeps his face expressionless so you don't know how much you're affecting him.

Steve tries to speak again but your hand muffles his words, making them unintelligible. All he can do is glare up at you, trapped beneath you. You pin him down harder, squeezing his body with your thighs. Steve lets out a muffled groan and bites your hand.

You let out a sharp gasp. "Ow!"

Steve grins and says sarcastically, "Oops, sorry about that." But he knows he's not sorry at all.

"Let me go, you're squeezing me too tight," he says.

"No," you reply firmly as he squirms.

"You can't just keep me pinned here forever, you know," he says, even though the thought of being trapped under you was turning him on a little too much, imagining what else you can do while he's like this.

Your thoughts drift to similar places and you grab the sheets, using them to tie Steve's hands together. He is shocked but also aroused by the restraints, struggling against them to no avail. The knots near his wrists are too tight and he lies helpless under you.

"Hey, what the hell are you doing…" he grumbles.

You stuff the remaining end of the sheets into his mouth and he tries to spit out the makeshift gag. "Now I can sleep in peace," you say.

Steve wants to yell at you, tell you to get off of him but he can't, and he's both frustrated and aroused by being bound and gagged like this, completely at your mercy. He feels your body press between his legs, making his mind go blank. You hold him down so you can't kick up at you and he wiggles, trying to hide his growing erection.

You shift your hips, acting as though it was just to comfortable, and Steve tries to hold back a moan, coming out as a muffled whimper through the gags. He feels vulnerable and exposed beneath you and hates how it turns him on. He's torn between wanting you to keep going and want to escape from the position you put him in. Each slight movement of your hips drives him crazy, his senses overwhelmed.

He tugs again against the restraints, feeling the fabric in his mouth getting soaked with his saliva. He looks up, eyes meeting yours and silently begging. But he feels heat shoot through him as you smirk down at him, enjoying the power you have over him and the contact as you 'accidentally' grind against him. With his wrists tied he couldn't push you off, but the situation ignites something in him.

Steve has to remind himself that he hates you, that he's supposed to be fighting this, but it gets harder to remember why. He feels a bit embarrassed at his lack of control, how you've reduced him to a helpless mess, since he's used to being the one in charge. Yet he wants you despite everything, and hates himself for enjoying this so much. He gives up fighting and accepts this position, feeling you lean in closer, your breath ghosting over his skin.

Your lips almost touch his neck, and he silently wills you to continue, but you suddenly snap out of your lustful daze and realize what is happening, pulling back.

Steve groans, looking up at you frustrated for playing with him like this, but you get off him, realizing you got way too carried away. Steve feels both relief and disappointment as you get off his body and starts struggling against the restraints against, trying to free himself and speak again so he can tell you off for what you just did to him.

You remove the gag and the untie the sheets, and Steve lets out a breath, collecting himself and rubbing his wrists a little, feeling the soreness from where the fabric dug in. He's not going to tell you that a part of him liked it and wanted you to keep him that way.

"What the hell was that?!" he says, hiding the slight hoarseness in his voice from the gag. Steve was still aroused from your little power play, making him more irritable than usual.

"I was just uh.. Shutting you up." You try to hide how much it excited you to see him bound, eyes begging… F*ck.

His pride was a little wounded by the implication that you can just shut him up whenever you want. "You can't just gag me whenever I say something you don’t like. I have a right to speak my mind, you know."

"Whatever. That was for pinning me down earlier."

"Yeah, well, you started it."

"You were provoking me and deserved it," you say.

"Yeah, well, you didn't have to gag me like that. That was a bit excessive, don't you think?"

You have to admit he's right, but maybe you just wanted to give in to your desires and have him at your mercy. It was quite arousing, honestly.

"You're enjoying this aren't you? Power going to your head, huh?" he scoffs.

"Now you’re making me sound like the jerk here," you respond.

"Oh, I'm making you sound like the jerk? Who's the one who just had me tied up and gagged like some kind of prisoner?"

You can't help the smirk that plays on your lips. "Maybe you're just more pleasant that way, without your cocky attitude."

"Cocky attitude? That's just my personality, sweetheart. Can't handle a little sass?”

"Nah, I like you better silenced," you say, not letting him know how much this is getting you.

Steve knows he should feel offended, but there's something about your assertiveness that he can't help but find hot. He tries to keep up his bravado but he's never had someone take control like this before, it was both exhilarating and infuriating.

"Oh, is that right? You like me better when I can't talk back to you, huh? So, what? You're just gonna gag me every time I piss you off now?"

You bite back, "I just might."

"And what if I fight you? What if I don't want to be silenced like that?" Secretly he feels heat in his stomach at the thought of you doing it again.

"You can try, Harrington," you say with a teasing smirk.

You keep saying my name like that and I'll make you scream it, he thinks. "Oh, I'll fight. Don't think you can just gag me whenever you want, sweetheart. I'm not some helpless puppy you can just tie up and keep quiet."

"Unfortunately," you retort.

Steve ignores the fact that he likes when you take charge. "Yeah, well, you just wait. Someday I'm gonna get you back for this, you know that, right?"

"Oh wow, I'm so scared," you say sarcastically. "Just go to sleep."

He pouts a little at your dismissive tone. "Yeah, whatever. Don't tell me what to do."

Still, Steve knows he should listen. He's tired and frustrated and lets out a sigh, laying down. You roll over and pull the crumpled up sheets over yourself. He stares at the back of your head, wanting to pull you closer but doesn't, knowing that it will just give you more power over him if you know what he wants.

Despite trying to keep a distance between you two, the bed is so small that your bodies brush against each other again. Steve ignores the way his pulse quickens, torn between maintaining his pride and wanting to press against you.

"Haven't you heard of space?" you bark.

"Like this is my fault, punk. Maybe if you stopped hogging the bed--"

"I'm not the one hogging the bed! I'm basically falling off the edge here."

"Oh, poor you. Cry me a river, princess. We're sharing a bed, which means we're going to be close. Get used to it."

"Don't you dare call me that!" you spat.

Steve grins at your irritation. "You're acting like one, all spoiled and demanding. Get over it."

You reach behind you to slap him lightly. "Hey! Watch it!" Steve yelps.

He rubs his shoulder dramatically as you roll your eyes and turn back around. The sting from the contact mixes with arousal and he lays there for a moment, trying to get a grip on his emotions and desires.

"You didn't have to slap me, you know," Steve grumbles.

"Yeah, I know. But I wanted to."

He huffs at your unapologetic response, not surprised that you've resorted to physical violence again when he gets on your nerves. "Yeah I can tell. You always gotta hit me whenever I get under your skin, do you?"

"Can you just shut up for once in your f*cking life?!" you say, exasperated.

Steve glares. "Oh, so now you're complaining about me being too loud? I can't win with you can, I? First it was too cocky, now too loud, what's next, huh?"

"God I hate you," you say.

"Well I hate you more, princess," he grumbles. Yet, deep down, there was an undeniable tension neither wanted to acknowledge.

"I told you not to call me that!" you say, frustrated.

Steve smirks at your indignation. "What, are you gonna slap me again if I call you princess? Go ahead, I dare you."

"Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you? I'm starting to think you might have a masochistic streak," you remark with a chuckle.

"Nah, I just like pissing you off. You're always mocking me, it's a wonder I haven't strangled you yet."

You roll your eyes, knowing he's probably enjoying getting a rise out of you. "Back at ya babe," you respond sarcastically.

Babe. The nickname sends a shiver through his body. Now that's a new level of mocking, he thinks, trying to keep up his annoyed façade. But it's getting harder to stay grumpy when you're being so casually infuriating.

Steve shifts a little on the bed, feeling his body press against yours even more. The sheets get twisted and tangled as they move, the fabric rubbing against his skin as he looks at the back of your head, your hair messy from sleep.

"You're really testing my patience tonight, you know that?" he says.

"You don’t think you are? I don’t know how I’m gonna put up with you till morning," you reply, your comment causing him to roll his eyes at your persistence.

"Oh, now you're acting like I'm the only one causing trouble here? You tied me up and gagged me earlier, remember? And now you're complaining about me being annoying? That's rich."

You can't help but chuckle. "Well we're stuck here together, like it or not.” And just my luck, you thought. Here with Mr. Perfect Hair.

Steve hates that you find this situation amusing. But at the same time, the sound of your laugh is kind of cute, even if it's at his expense. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. You think this is so funny, don't you?"

"Well it's way too easy to get you riled up."

"Yeah, well, you just make it too easy to be annoyed with you. You're like a damn mosquito, always buzzing around and biting me."

"A mosquito really? Running out of insults?"

"Oh, come on, you know I could insult you better than that. I'm just... sleepy. And frustrated. And annoyed. So, you know, cut me some slack, princess," he grumbles.

"I thought I told you not to-" You sigh. "You’re the princess here. A big one at that too."

"Excuse me?  You're the one being dramatic, who goes around slapping and tying people up like a damn psycho. Don't try to act like you're some saint." Steve's mind replays the memory of you binding and gagging him earlier, recalling how your body felt against his while you did it. He shakes the thought away, trying to focus on his anger instead.

Eventually, he just sighs. "Look, we’re stuck here. Can we just try to get through one night without biting each other’s heads off?”

You roll onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. “Maybe if you stopped acting like you’re better than everyone, it would be easier.”

“Better than— Are you serious?” He propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at you. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know enough,” you muttered, but your voice lacked its usual bite.

There was a moment of silence, a beat where neither of you spoke. Then, with a soft, almost resigned exhale, Steve lays back down.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said quietly. “But I’m trying, okay? I’m trying to be better.”

You turned your head to look at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his voice. For a moment, the facade dropped, and you saw the person beneath the bravado.

“Yeah, well… maybe I’m trying too,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

The tension between you shifted, softened. You roll onto your side again, grateful Steve hadn’t made some smart remark about you finally admitting you were in the wrong too.

He shifts a little, but freezes when he feels your back against his body, the contact making his breath hitch. His mind is a mess of conflicting emotions – irritation, frustration, desire. He tries to rein in his response, telling himself that he shouldn't be feeling this way about someone who annoys him so much.

You try to move away but it only gets worse -- your ass now pressing against him, making you blush.

Steve swears under his breath as a certain part of him reacts immediately. "Christ, can you move any further back? We're practically together here."

"I'm trying, goddamnit. Want me to fall off?!"

He swallows hard as he feels you wriggling around trying to move further away, the movement only serving to grind your body against his even more.  "Just… stop moving."

You sigh and stop moving, feeling an odd sense of disappointment, kinda missing the friction. No, what the f*ck, you mentally scold yourself.

Steve's back remains pressed against the wall while you're on the edge the bed. "You done moving around now? Can you just stay still for a second?"

Now you move again just out of spite and Steve inadvertently presses himself into you in all the wrong (and right) ways.

"Get away f*ckface," you say, your harsh words a stark contrast to the way your body is pressed against his. Yet you have no intention of changing your guys's current position.

"Get away? I'm literally pinned against the wall here. Not exactly much space for me to move, in case you haven't noticed," he says, but secretly grateful.

Steve shifts to find a more comfortable position but it results in him pressing even closer into you, making you nearly gasp. He feels your breathing getting shorter and your body trembling slightly, the tension building with each passing second.

"You're shaking," he says, the words coming out more like a whisper than he intended.

"I'm… just cold," you reply. Steve smirks and shifts even closer, if it was possible.

"What are you doing?" you whisper.

"Just uh, sharing the warmth. It’s not like I want you to catch a cold."

"Then why don't you give me more of that damn blanket," you say, pulling it off of him with a smirk.

He looks down, the cold air hitting his bare skin and making him realize he has nothing on but boxers. "Jesus, you could've warned me before taking away my only cover. Now I'm freezing."

"Deal with it," you say with a subtle glance over him.

He pulls the blanket back, covering himself up. "It'd be easier if we shared the damn thing," he mutters.

You huff. "Well why are you wearing f*cking boxers in the first place?!"

Steve grumbles in frustration. "I didn't exactly plan on sharing a bed with someone tonight okay? Let alone you. It's not like I knew I had to wear my warmest pajamas just in case."

You just roll your eyes and get up to close the window.

Steve watches you as you move, his eyes drifting down your body. "You're no better. You're practically naked." "It's not like I knew either!" you say, heating up now that you're aware of his gaze. You get back into bed and pull the covers over yourself.

"Seriously? Can you give me some of the damn blanket, at least? I'm freezing my ass off here."

"I just closed the window!" you say.

"Closing the damn window doesn't magically make the room warm, you know. I'm still cold."

You ignore him and roll over, glancing at the clock. "3am already? I would've kept sleeping if you didn't wake me up."

"Hey, you’re the one screaming and flailing around with that nightmare," he says looking at you, his irritation flaring up again.

"Like that's my fault? You weren't sleeping anyway!"

"Yeah, I wasn't sleeping because you're so damn noisy. Every move you make in your sleep makes this damn bed creak, and it's keeping me awake."

"Well just shut up okay? Or I'll-" "Or what huh? You'll slap me again? Nothing you do is gonna scare me, you know."

"Whatever. We need to sleep." You roll your eyes and try to get comfortable with Steve's proximity.

"Can you stop shifting around so damn much? You're making it impossible to sleep," he says.

"You're the one that’s all up on me!"

"Hey, it's not my fault we're stuck in this damn bed together." He shifts a little, feeling the heat radiating off of your body. "F*ck, you're making this so damn hard."

You snicker. "You're the one who's hard."

He rolls his eyes, embarrassed at your observation even though he tried to hide it from you. "Shut up. It's not like I can control that."

"Well it's f*cking weird. Get it away from me."

"You think I don't know that? I can't exactly just will it away, you know."

You want to make a flirty comment about helping him out but stop yourself in time. Instead, you roll over in hopes it's better but it only makes it worse as your fronts now press together.

Steve can feel each of your breaths and it only strengthens his desire. "God this is not helping. This position is even worse than the last one."

"You think I don't know that?"

He shifts and his erection unknowingly rubs against your stomach, sending a jolt of pleasure through him. "Jesus, this is torture."

"You don't say," you grumble. Your body feels like it's on fire from being this close to him.

"Can you just... I don't know, stop breathing so heavily or something? You're making me insane," he says.

"Oh you want me to stop breathing now?"

Steve huffs. "No, smartass, I mean stop breathing so damn loudly. You sound like you just ran a marathon or something."

"I’m breathing normally, you’re just annoyed for no reason," you say in denial.

"No you're not, you're breathing like you just sprinted up a mountain or something. It's driving me crazy."

"You’re the one who keeps squirming around!" you say.

Steve heats up in embarrassment. "Well it's not exactly easy to get comfortable with you pressed up against me like this."

You try to move back a little but it just causes more friction. Steve holds back a moan by biting his lip. "Stop moving, jeez."

He realizes as you move away that you're about to slip out of the bed. "Hey, careful," he says, quickly reaching out to grab you, his hand grabbing your hip to pull you back from the edge, closer to him.

His hand on your hip makes your body react in ways you can't control. "Why do you care anyway? Thought you wanted me to sleep on the floor."

"I just don't want you falling out and cracking your head open or something, okay? It would be a pain in the ass having to call an ambulance in the middle of the night."

"Right." You roll your eyes. "Cause that would ruin your nonexistent sleep."

"It's not like it's easy to sleep when you keep tossing and turning like you're having a damn seizure or something," he replies. Steve keeps his grip firm on your hip, acutely aware of the feel of your skin beneath his fingertips. He tells himself to let go but his hand somehow doesn't move. He can feel his willpower slipping away as he looks at you, your face so close he can almost count every individual lash on your eyelids.

Your pulse quickens as his hand subconsciously tightens on you, fingers slightly digging into your flesh. "What are you doing dude? I'm not falling off the bed anymore, jeez."

Steve knows he's been holding on to you way longer than necessary and snaps out of his thoughts by your voice. "Yeah, I know, I was just… making sure, okay?" He winces at how obvious he's being and lets go, seeing faint marks on your skin that his fingers left and realizing he's been gripping your hip like his life depends on it.

He feels a surge of embarrassment and guilt at unintentionally hurting you. "Sorry… I didn't mean to grip you so hard."

"Harrington apologizing? That's a first," you say, secretly wishing he hadn't let you go.

He was about to say something smartass in response but he gets distracted when he catches the way your teeth bite into your lip. Steve swallows hard, his throat suddenly feeling dry as he thinks about what it would be like to kiss you. He leans in just a fraction of an inch closer…

"Steve?"

He pulls away, the sound of his name on your lips reminding him of the fact you're supposed to be enemies. "What?" he says gruffly.

His sudden distance jolts you out of your very similar thoughts. You hate him, you tell yourself. "Nothing."

"Then shut up and go to sleep."

"I'm trying. You're the one grabbing me."

"Gee, sorry for trying to be a decent human being."

"For once," you retort sarcastically.

"Yeah well, at least I'm not some stubborn ass punk-ass chick who never shuts up and pisses me off all the goddamn time."

"Just go to sleep goddamnit," you say, filled with frustration.

"Fine. I will. It’ll be nice not having to hear your annoying voice for once," he says, rolling over, and turning his back to you. "And you better not keep moving around like a damn fish out of water."

"You're one to talk," you reply and shut your eyes.

Steve closes his eyes as well but as the minutes drag on, neither of you can sleep. His mind kept replaying the moment he'd been holding your hip. He turns and tries to remind himself of all the reasons he shouldn't be thinking about you like this -- the fights, the insults, the fact you're enemies. But he can't get his mind off of your body, the way your thighs press together as you shift around, the smooth expanse of your skin… his resolve weakened with each moment.

You sigh, realizing you could not sleep at all like this, and open your eyes, a little startled to see Steve's staring right back.

Steve feels a jolt of surprise when your eyes meet his, he hadn't realized you were awake and feels a little embarrassed to be caught staring. Still, it was impossible for him to look away.

The hint of light from between the blinds catches in Steve's brown irises and you stare at the way they reflect the moonlight. His gaze feels like a physical touch, making you shiver involuntarily.

"What are you doing?" he whispers, his heart pounding in his chest.

"What are you doing?"

"I uh… couldn't sleep."

"Me either," you say, your eyes traveling down the stretch of bare skin, seeing the dots of moles and freckles on his neck and chest that you long to taste.

"What… what are you looking at?" he says a little shakily despite trying to keep his voice steady. He can feel his muscles tense under your scrutiny.

You look away. "Nothing. Jesus, can't you put a shirt on?"

"What, is my bare chest bothering you?" he smirks, knowing you like what you see but are stubborn as usual.

"Ew, yes. Your hairy chest is gross as f*ck and you keep touching me with it."

"Oh you're so dramatic, it's not gross. You just have bad taste," he says, shifting closer so his chest brushes against yours again.

You fake gag and try to move away but Steve grabs your waist, amused by your exaggerated reaction. "Relax, it's just hair. It's not like it will bite you," he says with a chuckle. "Besides, you're gonna fall off if you keep moving back."

You don't say anything as he pulls you closer to him, his thumb rubbing small circles on the soft skin there. "You really are terrible at staying still, you know that?"

Steve squeezes your waist a little tighter, enjoying how you squirm against him. His fingers move down to edge the fabric of your shirt, slipping under to run along your stomach teasingly.

"And you talk too much, you know that?" you whisper lowly in response, pressing your hips up against his.

"Why don't you shut me up then?" he whispers against your ear.

"Is that a challenge?' You say with a smirk, not waiting for a response as you roll on top of him in one quick motion, your mouth hovering just above his. Steve's face is flushed with surprise at the sudden movement and you capture his lips in a rough, possessive kiss.

-

chapter 3 (smut warning) here