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#but i don’t think that really came through
Failing
Summary: Joel made many mistakes. The biggest was leaving you.
Pairing: past Joel Miller x fem. reader
Wordcount: 1.3k
Rating: G
Warnings: angst, a lot of inner thoughts, panic attacks, Joel and Ellie do not talk, Joel is a mess, lots of talk about being a failure and not good enough, messy breakup, unplanned pregnancy
A/N: This has been going through my mind since I saw the new pic yesterday. This is really different from everything I write usually, so let me know what you think. And yeah, come yell at me in my inbox
follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics
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He knew he should have stayed home tonight.
He could have worked on… something. He could have talked himself into picking up his guitar and pretend everything was okay.
He could pretend that he wasn’t a failure.
He could pretend Ellie was still talking to him.
Instead he was here, the people around him celebrating god knows what, music playing, people dancing and he?
He was hoping to at least get a look at the girl that had become like a daughter to him. The daughter he lost because he lied to her.
Turned out his mother was right, lying was not getting him anywhere. 
He hadn’t talked to her in weeks, not getting more than a fleeting look at her from afar like a creepy stalker.
Tommy was right, he needed to give her time.
But somehow he felt like time was running out. 
Tommy had been right in a lot of things lately. Something Joel was not used to, still having the irresponsible young man in the back of his mind he had been before outbreak.
But Tommy wasn’t that man anymore.
He was a husband, a father, a respected leader of the little community he had helped build.
And Joel was…. He did not feel like he changed much. He was still angry all the time.
Angry at the world.
Angry at the people.
But most of all angry at himself.
The way he was feeling now? Alone and lonely?
He had no one but himself to blame for it.
It was moments like these that you came to his mind.
You would know what to do. You would know how to fix this mess that he got himself into. You always did. Until he had pushed you away for good, almost six years ago when he got even more involved in the underground in the Boston QZ.
Meeting and falling in love with you had been the only good thing that had happened to him since the outbreak. You had seen him, the real him.
The broken man that was desperate for… something.
That something seemed to be you.
But like every good that happened to him, he managed to fuck this up too. Not at first, but definitely in the end. 
And he tried. He tried to become a better person. Tried to become the man you deserved, not listening to you when you told him that he did not have to become a better person.
That you fell for him the way he was. With all flaws he thought he had.
But maybe if he had worked on himself he wouldn’t have reacted so poorly when you told him that you were pregnant.
Maybe he wouldn’t have blamed you and you only, taking the easy way out and telling you he would not go through this again.
He should have talked to you, instead of lashing out, should have told you how fucking scared he was about losing another child. About losing you. About raising a child in this fucked up world. About fucking up.
He did so anyway.
He chose to forget about the whole conversation the two of you had after you told him that you were pregnant and that you were intending to keep it from his mind. Or he tried. God, did he try.
But now, deep in the night, when he was laying awake and alone in bed, only the shadows of the night in his company, the words he spat to hurt you creeped back into his mind, not that they had ever been gone.
I don’t love you.
Get rid of it.
Get out of my life.
I never loved you anyway. 
He could still see the way your face crumbled, tears running down your cheeks. 
He broke you that night. And he broke himself. 
He thought about this last argument, this breakup a lot if he was honest with himself.
He never told you, not in words, how much he loved you. He took you for granted. He shouldn’t have been this surprised to learn that you had left the QZ days after he broke you. 
Not a day went by that he wondered what happened to you.
If you were alive.
If you kept the baby.
Would it have your eyes and his hair?
A boy or a girl?
Where they as stubborn as Sarah was?
Did you still love him as much as he still loved you?
Shaking his head he took a sip from the surprisingly good beer someone had offered him when he came here, his eyes wandering through the room, sneaking glances at Ellie who smiled at Dina, deep in conversation with the other girl.
Sucking his bottom lip in, his hand flexing on his side as he tried to find the courage to walk over to Ellie and ask her if they could talk, again, when he heard laughter behind him.
Laughter he heard before, a long time ago.
A laugh he heard in his dreams when his mind allowed him to dream about you instead of the nightmares that plagued him. 
Narrowing his eyes he tried to remember why he was hearing that laugh, why that voice that spoke in low tones now, made his heart flutter, when he saw Tommy walk towards him in a fast pace, his face worried.
“Joel,” he said but Joel wasn’t listening to him.
He was busy preparing for a breakdown that was creeping slowly into his body. 
Joel’s heart seemed to make the connection before his brain did, heart beating widely in his chest as he slowly turned around, his brother’s hand on his shoulder to keep him for turning. He shrugged it off with a grunt, bracing himself to be let down, that he was finally turning insane and imagining you when his eyes landed on you.
Blinking his eyes in disbelief he released a shaky breath when you were still there. 
You were sitting at one of the picnic tables, still as beautiful as he remembered a small smile on your face. A man had his arm wrapped around your back and in your lap sat a girl not older than five who had your eyes and his brown curls.
His heart stopped, he was sure of it.
“She got in yesterday. You were on patrol, I was trying to find you and tell you but….” Joel heard his brother say, but he ignored him.
You were here.
You were here.
And you were alive.
And you had a girl sitting in your lap that was….
His eyes widened when you leaned back and he saw a little boy sitting in the lap of the man next to you that looked like a mini copy of Joel himself.
His chest felt heavy.
Closing his eyes he tried to take deep breaths, but he just couldn’t.
This was too much.
This hurt too much.
This was the happiest he ever was.
“Joel?” he heard his name from his side, Ellie looking down at him worriedly as he pressed his hand against his chest, his eyes watering.
This was the first time she had talked to him in weeks and it might as well be the last time from the way he felt right now.
He was having a panic attack.
But it felt so much worse than it had ever before.
Looking away from Ellie he turned his head back towards you, finding you now looking at him with wide eyes.
“Deep breaths brother,” a strong arm came to pull him up and his frantic eyes found Tommy’s.
“In and out,” he said, trying to calm down his brother. Joel’s hands grabbed his brothers shoulders. Trying to mimic the way he was breathing but couldn’t.
“Joel?” he heard your voice, his head now turning towards you, finding you looking at him worriedly.
Joel shook his head, dark spots at the corner of his eyes.
“You’re here,” was the last thing he whispered before he passed out.
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wonysugar · 2 days
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wintersera sent me
but thigh riding w aeri!?
(92’fjfk;&2’
see i said it in vc as a joke but you ACTUALLY CAME HERE??? hello anon and thank you @wintersera! i will take care of your anon :]
NOW,,, let’s talk essentials. THIGH RIDING WITH AERI?? oh i have many thoughts about this you see!! the second picture HER THIGHS NEED TO BE RIDED(??) ON IDC IDC
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MONSTROUS THIGHS I FEAR!!
see, i imagine her being that one really chill and unfiltered girl friend that you can just tell anythinggkenfj naturally, being as close as you two are, you two have conversations about basically anything, sex isn’t an exception! the next time you discuss kinks and whatnot, you’re telling her about how much you want to ride on thighs at least once in your life and she’s just staring at you, knowingly and is like “right.. right.”
now the thing is you’d bring it up so MUCH that at the 10th time she just interrupts you mid sentence and is all like “girl if you want to ride thighs this bad, just ride mine...” and at first you take it as a joke and laugh it off… that’s until you see her looking at you with a smug expression.
oh her ass wasn’t joking at all dawg—
and oh boy does she know that you like the idea, not like you blushing and hiding your face at the mere thought of you riding her thighs could go unnoticed, anyway. “cmonn, it’ll be funnn.” she tried persuading you, telling you how she was already wearing shorts etc. you quickly wave your hand around in response, saying that it would be crazy since you two are friends blah blah you know it goes. the worst part? you’re genuinely considering it on second thought?? it’s actually so bad for you rn YOU NEED TO LOCK IN! you don’t want to though, obviously. i mean cmon riding aeri’s thighs? girl yes AS CRAZY AS IT IS TO RIDE YOUR FRIEND’S THIGH OUT OF NOWHERE— GIRL YES
after lots, lots of convincing, sure enough, you caved in, both in her desires and your own.
the actual thigh riding? crazy. CRAZY I TELL YOU! you personally think it’s embarrassing that you’re already dripping and leaving a small puddle of your slick on her soft thigh,,, she thinks it’s cute though, she even teases you about it ahehehehhfjdn
would i be insane in thinking that she’d talk you through it?? like WALK WITH ME her hands are on your hips and she’s gently pushing you back and forth on her thigh, helping you find the rhythm of your grinding… interlocking her eyes with yours and watching how your breaths become heavy pants, maybe even slight whimpers:(((
she’ll whisper you things like “does it feel good, y/n?” just so she can watch you whine and nod in a keen manner in responsefksmcjd she surprisingly loves seeing you lose control on her :(( STRADDLING HER LAP IS TURNING HER ON MUCH MORE THAN SHE THOUGHT IT WOULD! plus you sounded and looked too good, gasping and moaning all up in her ear once you were close to climax, hence why…
she’d look at your lips and kiss you when you end up cumming on her because fuck everyone i don’t make the rules… and you wouldn’t even expect it either because uhm hello y’all are simply friends you didn’t know she got down like that! though you still kiss her back ofc,, her lips passionately dancing with yours whilst you’re getting yourself off on her OUH
thank you anon this was very liberating
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girlokwhatever · 2 days
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⚘⋆.ೃ࿔✧*ੈ˚ ༘♡⋆❀ she loves me, she loves me not,,
part 2 ; discover me and reality
previous part
paige bueckers x fem!reader (fake dating trope)
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the gravity of your situation didn’t sink in until the next morning. a few of your friends messaged you during the night, some of them including girls from the basketball team. apparently bianca had posted all about it on her finsta, dissing you and paige and claiming you were a ‘cheating slut.’
you also noted quite a few missed calls and texts from bianca. you couldn’t help but read them, noticing her text demeanor is much different than how she is online. she’s practically begging you to talk to her, pleading with you to answer the phone.
you didn’t really think it all through and as soon as you read all of those messages, it hit you like a fucking bus. were you and paige going to keep this up? or was it a dumb drunk decision she made and was now regretting it?
there was only one way to find out. you didn’t want to confront her about it though, embarrassment seeping through you along with last night’s memories. you couldn’t even believe yourself, asking your best friend to be your fake girlfriend. let alone a girl you knew you had been avoiding for two months.
you groan into your pillow, letting your poor decisions rack over your head. you couldn’t deny the way your pace quickened at the thought of paige being your girlfriend, even if it wasn’t real. everyone thought it was. you push the thought away, immediately feeling quilty for thinking of your best friend that way.
you lift your head when you feel a gentle knock on your half-opened bedroom door. you see paige, standing in all her glory. she has a sweat set on, long blonde hair down and wavy, adorning her shoulders. if your heart wasn’t skipping beats before, it certainly was now.
“paige! hi!” your speech is breathless and short, shocked to see her in your apartment. you hope she didn’t catch you in your little moment, unaware of how long she’s been here. you remember that you’re half-naked under the covers, making note to keep them up and above your chest. it’s nothing she hasn’t seen before probably, but it’s different now.
“hey, i didn’t mean to wake you up or anything. jus wanted to check on you.”
“oh um, i’m good. yeah, good.” you struggle to find your words between the way she takes your breath away and how nervous you are. get it together. “how are you?”
“oh y’know, i’m good. hey i wanted to ask you something, i don’t know if you’ll really remember but.. last night bianca said something about how you and me-” she’s cut off by the sound of your phone ringing, bianca’s name flashing across your screen. paige shamelessly looks, mood immediately dropping.
much like bianca never liked paige, paige never liked bianca. your best friend always felt as if you were too good for her and deserved better. she still believes that. she believes she can be your better.
your eyes linger a little longer than paige would’ve hoped, taking note of your conflicted and angered expression.
“hey, since i woke you up you should let me buy you some coffee. i can get you breakfast too.”
you ended up accepting her offer, the two of you spending a few hours together getting coffee and walking around in town. as soon as you got back to your apartment, paige’s phone started going crazy with calls from her teammates, kk in particular.
she answered, leaning against your kitchen counter and propping her phone up. it didn’t go unnoticed how she filled your space so naturally. you were really glad the new situation you found yourselves in didn’t make anything awkward between the two of you.
not yet at least.
“PAIGE- it’s real right? the news?”
“what news?”
“girl boo don’t play right now- you and princess!”
while you and paige were out, you came up with a few rules for your ‘relationship.’ one of those was that it was a sworn secret between only the two of you, no one else. it meant you’d both have to lie to your friends, even those closest to you, but you couldn’t risk a slip up. the thought of everyone finding out you plotted an entire fake relationship just to make your ex jealous horrified you— you couldn’t let her win.
“oh yeah, real stuff.” she angled her phone towards you as you packed away some minimal groceries. kk caught glimpse of you and screamed, cheering about how her ‘two favorite people are together!’
“ok so boom- you guys should come over to the team dorm tonight. we’re throwing you a couples welcoming party!”
“a what?!”
“paige girl just come. and bring your new cute girlfriend with you. we love you princess!”
“i love you kk!”
after the call ended you and paige decided to lounge around, watching a couple of movies and catching up on the latest trends. it made you happy to just have her around, finding yourself falling back into your close bond with her.
she was happy too, esthetic really. after two months of you distancing yourself and pushing her away, she was finally back to normal with you. as close to normal as you can get with your best-friend-turned-fake-girlfriend. she missed being in your apartment, rummaging through all your dvd movies she’s seen a million times already. she missed your soft blankets and the signature scent of your home that she couldn’t find anywhere else. it was everything that made you, you.
eventually the two of you had to get ready. your process was a bit longer than hers, but she still got up when you did. you tossed her a slightly nicer, more presentable outfit she left at your place after a group sleepover once. you disappeared after that, starting your own routine.
“i’m bored,” she walks into your bathroom, leaning against the counter as she watches you. you sneak a glance at her, noticing her expression.
“you can leave before me, s’not a big deal.”
“i think it’d be weird if we didn’t show up together for our inauguration party.”
“oh, right. you’re right.”
she goes silent again, watching as you put the finishing touches on your makeup and adjust your clothes. she shamelessly admires you while you’re not paying attention, entranced by the way you look. even by the way your chest rises with each breath.
“are we going to talk about it?”
“i thought we went over everything this morning?”
“no not that. i’m talking about what bianca said last night. about you and me sneaking around.” you pause, staring your own reflection in the eye. you can’t make eye contact with her out of fear you’ll give yourself away so you just pretend to touch up a spot on your chin.
“it’s nothing really. she was just paranoid. she said that about all my friends,” it wasn’t a complete lie, bianca had suspicions of each of your friends. paige though, she garnered the majority of bianca’s accusations. you couldn’t tell her she’s the reason you and bianca broke up. paige feels her heart sink a bit and she knows it’s wrong. it’s wrong to want bianca be jealous and insecure of the relationship you have with paige, at least while you two were together. but you’re not together anymore. you’re with paige now. in a sense.
“oh, alright. makes sense i guess.”
as soon as paige pushes you through the door of her dorm, party confetti and party horns are in your face. it’s loud, everyone either blowing some whistle or simply cheering. you didn’t think your new public status with paige would excite them so much.
“happy one day anniversary yall!! that we know of..” kk flashes both of you dirty looks, her way of scolding you for not telling everyone sooner. they’re oblivious to the fact that it would’ve been impossible to let this know, considering it was completely new for you and paige as well.
balloons adorn the walls and ceiling, a small cake rests on the counter, neon lights everywhere, they really went all out. there’s even a banner with your and paige’s ship name on it.
“guys..”
“our fav couple deserves nothing but the best,” azzi smiles and pats your shoulder, pulling you with her as everyone floods the kitchen. she serves you your favorite at home drink, liquid swishing as you take a swig. you were gonna need it.
“i don’t know who asked who, but one of yall just won me fifty bucks,” nika grins, showing her venmo to everyone. kk rolls her eyes, clueing that she was probably the one on the other end of that bet.
“you guys made a bet on when we’d get together?” you ask, completely unaware of why this was even a thing.
“months ago.”
paige is frozen, face red as she stands statue still. every once in awhile she’d drop a hint at her admiration for you and she really hopes no one says anything, all completely unaware you don’t actually know paige has real feelings for you. she was stressed, positive she was going to break out in a sweat.
“ok enough of that. let’s eat some cake!” she tries to avert the conversation, giving kk a warning glare and nudging nika with her elbow. she couldn’t have anything going wrong tonight. or ever, really.
amari cuts the cake, serving everyone an equal slice. everyone found a spot in the living room, you cozying up next to paige on the couch. you were sitting between her legs, back to her chest as everyone gathered.
“so how’d it happen?”
“probably during sex or something-”
“no kk, bad.” ice scolds, watching kk give her best puppy dog eyes. you couldn’t believe how over the moon everyone was about it, never having heard any romantic innuendoes connecting you to paige.
“we were just hanging out, like usual. it kinda just happened.”
“how long ago?”
“uh, a few weeks ago.”
you’re glad paige decided to take the lead on answering the questions. they came up with them like rapid fire, some of them completely random. most of those came from kk and ice though.
“well, we’re glad it finally happened. we were beginning to think paige would never do it.”
that shocks you and stills paige, both of your breaths hitching, you didn’t want to jump to conclusions about what caroline was saying but it was hard not to, it was an outright insinuation of paige having romantic feelings for you. she knew it too, not sure on how she was going to get herself out of it. nika notices paige’s expression, narrowing her eyes in her direction.
“well, it’s a shame what bianca is saying about you online. you didn’t actually cheat on her right?”
“of course she didn’t. bianca’s just a bitch.” paige’s tone is filled with malice, mood swinging at the mention of your ex. you didn’t expect such a vulgar response from her, eyebrows furrowing in mixed emotions.
“paige-”
“bianca’s an insecure person that deserves to rot alone.”
you immediately nudge her, silencing her unfiltered thoughts. you didn’t know why she was acting like this, having very seldom seen this side of her.
everyone becomes distracted quickly, giving you the opportunity to address her hostility.
“okay, chill. what’s wrong with you?”
“nothing. jus defending you. is that a problem?”
“defending me from what, paige? the ghost of christmas past?”
at that she’s silent, fully aware that you’re right. bianca isn’t here and yet she’s still saying all these things. part of paige, the irrational part, gets upset at the way you still defend bianca. the more rational side empathizes with you, understanding that you’re probably still healing.
“yeah, alright. fine. my bad.”
you figure that’s the best apology you’ll get from her so you take it. phasing back to reality around you, you notice everyone has dispersed into groups, each one louder than the next. you and paige mingle, sticking together. eventually after an hour you find yourselves alone, paige creating an invisible protective barrier around you. her aura surrounds you and you swear you can almost feel it.
“enjoying the party?” the gives you flashbacks to last night when she asked nearly the same question, when things were simple.
“it’s good. never thought i’d go to a party celebrating something i made up though. i feel bad, lying to all of them.”
“they’ll be okay.”
it’s in this moment you realize eventually this will have to end. the reality of paige’s breath fanning your face, her pulse against your own, eyes locked with yours, makes you want to sink in on yourself. this can’t last forever, eventually it’ll end. you’ll ‘break up’ and possibly lose your close friendship with all the women in the room, all the women you’ve grown to love like family.
the thought itself makes you want to pull away, you can hardly stand to look paige in the eye. you already feel the barrier she’s built around you breaking, shattering to the ground in a million pieces. you want to run and never look back, never check to see if she’s following. but you don’t, you can’t. your heart sinks, stomach dropping and you feel sick.
you realize, truthfully and honestly, that you made the wrong decision.
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·
UMMMM PLOT PROGRSS IDK??!!!!!
i love you guys
make good decisions!!! (cough cough celeste)
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ivymarquis · 16 hours
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Not me vividly hallucinating about a certain scot eating me out until I cry
What you wish for
Pairing| John “Soap The Munch (tm)” MacTavish x F!Reader Rating| E Word Count| ~500 Kinks/Content/Warnings| Cunnilingus, squirting, mentions of safe word, Johnny is A Munch(tm), the author is an American still trying to dial in a Scottish accent
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Date a munch, they said.
It would be fun, they said.
And it is, for the most part- you can admit that with no hardship.
It’s just that occasionally (like now), it becomes obvious that Johnny is eating you out for his pleasure and your own is just a happy by-product.
“Shit, ah! Johnny! I’m gonna- hgn- Johnny I’m gonna cum,” you pant in warning as the Scot buried between your thighs goes to town on you like a man starved.
Every time this man drops to his knees in front of you, it is a guarantee you’re going to see stars.
This time he’s got you pinned on your back on the bed. You seem to be wiggling too much for his taste as he’s banded one forearm across your waist and the other hand grips one thigh to keep your legs spread for him.
No matter how much you cry and moan and buck and cant your hips, he just leans his weight on you to keep you still.
He alternates between broad swipes with the flat of his tongue or more pointedly circling your clit or lapping at the inside of you.
While he’s yet to disappoint, he really seems into it (re: you) today. Like teetering on has-something-to-prove into it.
With that sort of dedication and attention, it’s no wonder he’s got you squirting and squealing in record time as he slips two fingers inside and abuses that spot that has you seeing stars.
Johnny works you through your high, lapping up every drop of it like it’s his last meal. Your legs twitch weakly in his hold as he continues on.
You think that maybe he’s working himself down, that he’ll leave you be in a minute.
He doesn’t.
Less attention is paid directly to your clit, but he’s still honed in between your legs even as you squirm. “Johnny,” his voice is a whine in your throat. “Johnny I came- I already came,” like there was any possibility that he is unaware of that- given how you squirted all over his face.
He pulls off momentarily, eying you with a skeptical look. “The fuck’s that got to do with me, bonnie? Cum or don’t, I'm finished when I'm finished.”
Your brain needs a system reboot at that- you stare at the ceiling dumbly as he gets back to business.
He’s trying to kill you- there’s no other explanation for it.
(Distantly you remember how your ex never went down you- still expected head on a routine basis, of course!- and you swore that the next guy you dated would have to be okay with reciprocation. You certainly got your wish in spades, hadn’t you? Almost like the universe was apologizing in the most mind-melting way possible)
It’s all you can do to lay there and breathe. If it actually gets to be too much- well, that’s what safewords are for. But Jesus fucking Christ the man doesn’t do anything in halves.
It’s only after he’s wrenched your second orgasm from you that he lets up, crawling up the bed to collapse to the side of you.
“Soon as my legs quit twitching, I’m returning the favor,” it takes you a couple tries to stammer out the words. Johnny looks every bit like the cat that caught the canary.
“Oh I’m no done with that sweet cunt o’ yours- ye just looked like ye were gonna pass oot. We’ll give ye a break an then back tae it, hm?”
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highvern · 12 hours
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Green Light
Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader
Genre: smut, hint of fluff at the end
warnings: making out, blowjob, ruined orgasm, minor breath play? (hoshi feels his dick in reader’s throat)
Length: ~3k
Note: well here we are again in 2 days later. thank you @gyuswhore for suffering with me for this. this can be read as a stand alone but is much better after reading part 1 below
series m.list: Houdini [s]
m.list
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.
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First dates are something you’re well versed in.
A guise of mindless chatter over dinner, pretending to be interested in the minutia until patience runs thin and someone not so subtly confirms their roommates aren’t home. You know it, you embrace it, and you’ve done it many times.
What you aren’t used to is being tricked into a first date after already getting to the good part.
It’d been a long week of texting that led to teasing another meet up but incompatible schedules and demanding friends kept anything from coming to fruition. 
When Soonyoung asked if you wanted to watch a movie, you assumed it was just an excuse to get you back in his bed without crudely requesting a repeat. It's a Saturday night and well past appropriate hours for anything else. When he asked for your address, you assumed he was already out and was trying to be accommodating. When he said he was waiting downstairs whenever you were ready, you thought he was planning to take you back to his place which worked out because with only ten minutes to prepare, your room resembled a disaster zone you’d rather not have a witness too.
But then he drove fifteen minutes in the opposite direction of his street, and you realize maybe all your assumptions were wrong.
At a red light, the blinker’s rhythm drives you to speak up.
You whip around from the window to face him. “Are you kidnapping me?” 
“I don’t think it counts as kidnapping if you came willingly,” Soonyoung says, turning left when the signal allows.
“That doesn’t matter if you lured me under false pretenses.”
“I asked if you wanted to watch a movie, that's what we're doing.” 
“But your apartment is the other way,” you say like he isn’t aware.
“You know, they have these buildings with huge screens and all they do is play movies there. Really fascinating stuff. Oh, and look! There’s one.”
He pulls into one of the spaces near the back and throws the car in park before exiting without another word. A movie theater. You might as well be on Mars. 
Trailing behind, you stand dumbfounded while Soonyoung pays for tickets and popcorn like this is something normal to do on a Saturday night. For most people it would be. Maybe it is for him. He seems like the date type, even if looks like he rolled out of bed seconds before picking you up. 
You’re wearing sweatpants with nothing underneath for the sake of planting in his lap and watching him fawn over your boobs again, not to sit in a theater for two hours surrounded by whatever weirdos are hanging around this late on a weekend. The thick fabric doesn’t give anything away but you might as well be naked with how exposed you feel. 
Even in the dark, he keeps up the charade; eyes forward, hands to himself except when his fingers brush yours in the popcorn bucket like some corny romcom. He pays attention to the trailers while you stare like you’re witnessing a car crash playout in real time.
When the actual movie starts, Soonyoung lifts the arm rest out of the way, pulling you as close as possible with an arm around your shoulder. He doesn’t even attempt to hide the move in some cheesy stretch, just brings you into the heat of his side like it's normal. You sweat where he presses tight through your clothes. 
You don’t even know what movie is playing except there's some evil guy trying to take over the world while some other guy runs around in spandex trying to stop him and Soonyoung seems to find it fascinating. He’s choosing superheroes over getting laid. If it didn’t bruise your ego you might find the humor in it.
The theater isn’t crowded, not for a Saturday night. Only two other couples sit spread apart in the rows below. They’d have to turn 180 degrees to see you and Soonyoung and even then the high backs on the chairs would hide anything overtly scandalous. 
So you wait until the soundtrack rises to a crescendo just in case anyone becomes alert to your plans. You’ve never sucked dick in public but the idea of Soonyoung struggling to stay quiet while stretching your throat raw is too alluring to ignore. 
And with the way he spreads his thighs, it might as well be an open invitation.
Your hands start at his knee, just the barest amount of weight so he doesn’t scream like a horror movie character. The muscles jump under your nails but not a peep. You don’t even care that you’re staring at Soonyoung head on, completely abandoning the film in favor of watching for his reaction.
A tilt of your chin puts you level with that spot on his jaw you claimed last weekend. There isn’t proof you were there but the way he whined your name from a few harsh rakes of teeth is burned in your brain. He smells great and the warmth rolling of him lulls you further in until your mouth is at his neck.
The barest graze of your lips has Soonyoung jumping but he doesn’t stop you, just curls the arm around your shoulder tighter. Taking advantage, you trail soft kisses in an attempt to make him pliant. 
“What are you doing?” he whispers.
A languid kiss to his pulse. “What does it feel like I’m doing?”
“Like you’re trying—oh.”
The hand at his crotch is snatched away before you can convince him to let you slip beneath the waistband.
“You’ll get us kicked out.”
“Only if you can’t stay quiet,” you argue.
Someone below shushes you two sharpley. You want to throw the bucket of popcorn at their head.
“We both know I won’t.” Soonyoung whispers into your hairline, pinning your hand beneath his against your thigh. “Just wait until later.”
“Seriously?” you scoff.
You’d leave but Soonyoung drove and you don’t want to wait in the cold for an Uber (your bank account doesn’t support the idea either). There is also the promise of getting what you want later that keeps your butt firmly planted in the worn upholstery until the credits roll. You even manage to find interest in the last twenty minutes, and are a little disappointed when the lights come up, only because Soonyoung has been holding your hand, and the stroke of his thumb atop your knuckles isn’t the worst feeling in the world.
When the lights come up and the screen freezes on the final frame, Soonyoung stays planted. Which means you stay planted because where would you go? Something about a post credit bonus scene he wants to see. Maybe he’s into edging.
When the employee tasked with sweeping the sticky, soda stained floors starts circling your row with palpable annoyance, you two finally get up and leave.
“Did you like the movie?” Soonyoung asks, making a face against the cold slapping against your faces as you exit the theater and head to the parking lot. 
“Yeah, it was fine.”
“Next time you can choose,” he says. “Superhero stuff isn’t my thing but I thought it was a safe pick.”
Next time.
Absolutely, under no circumstances, would there be a next time. Because if there is a next time then Soonyoung definitely thinks this was a date which isn’t something you do. Ever. Especially not with guys that may or may not have a tiger fetish. 
You open your mouth to correct whatever silly fantasies are swirling together in his head but stop short. Maybe it's his fingers knotting themselves back between yours or the optimistic smile splitting his face but it feels cruel to crush something so innocent on the asphalt like a cigarette bud under your heel. He’ll figure out your game eventually. No point in racing him towards the conclusion before he’s ready. 
At the far corner of the parking lot, away from any prying eyes or ears, he crowds you into the side of his beat up Jeep. 
“So… it’s later.” His eyes lock on your mouth, eager to indulge in what you offered so readily earlier like you haven’t changed your mind. 
You haven’t but he doesn’t have to know that. 
“Yeah, kinda tired now.” You feign a yawn to hide a smirk at the drop in his features.
“Really?” he drops but tries not to be too obvious. “I can take you home if you want.”
“Yeah, unless,” his ears perk up at the tone. “There's something I should stay awake for.”
There is. It's heavy against your thigh where he has you pinned and makes your mouth water.
Getting into the backseat has you feeling like a teenager again. Clumsy with an elbow bent at an odd angle and your legs tangled as you slip over the center console. The floor is a mess of clothes and other random shit you don’t bother taking a closer look at because Soonyoung’s lap makes a decent seat.
You’re folded in half just to prevent getting a concussion because the roof is low but it's a good excuse to bite along that spot on Soonyoung’s neck that's been tempting you all night. It tastes like satisfaction. 
The cab is silent except for the sound of kissing with too much tongue and all the noises he eagerly supplies like he wants you to make fun of him. Breathy whines and sharp whimpers as he gropes your ass. A hand aids in grinding you against his crotch while the other slips up your sweater.
“You haven’t been wearing a bra this whole time?” he cries.
“Nope,” you hum, nipping at his earlobe to feel his cock twitch against your ass. “Wanna know what else I’m not wearing?”
Something along the lines of ‘I’m gonna pass out’ comes out in a rush as he rushes to discover how wet you’ve been since he picked you up. 
“Oh, fuck.” He groans from the slip of your folds across his fingers. 
“Should have let me suck your dick inside.”
“I know.” 
“Would you have let me?”
“I would have fucked you if I knew you weren’t wearing panties, good god.” 
A shift of hips lets you pull his cock out from the confinement of his pants. You can’t really see much but the outline with how dark it is, but he’s hard as steel and leaking. Your mouth waters for a taste.
Getting to your knees on the floor proves more challenging than it should. There’s no room so you're forced to balance between kneeling and crouching with a bony knee digging into your ribs. The bathroom would have been far better for this, consequences be damned. Too late now.
“Your car is too small for this,” you say before taking a quick lick at the swollen head peeking through your fingers.
“Never — shit — had any complaints before.”
“Do you fuck a lot of girls in here?” 
He curls in half on the next squeeze, like he might cum already. A reply fizzles on his lips for a few seconds but every time he gets settled to answer you up the stakes; tapping his cock against your tongue until a fresh taste of precum rewards you, raking your nails over his thigh, jerking him off into your mouth. Soonyoung doesn’t blink in fear he’ll wake up and it’ll all turn out to be a dream.
When Soonyoung looks on the verge of spontaneous combustion, you let him speak. 
“Why?” he sighs. It sounds suspiciously like a laugh. “Are you jealous?”
The idea of him fucking other girls flashes a bolt of something in your veins. Annoyance he’s even capable of thinking of anyone else while you’ve got his dick in your hand, maybe. Jealousy isn’t something a guy you’ve hooked up with once should even be able to hint at. 
“Tell me when you’re close.” The playful tease is long gone from your voice. “And not when you’re already cumming or you’ll never see TamTam again.”
Eyes squeezed tight, he releases another harsh groan. This time to the roof because you’re already tonguing against the raised vein on the side of cock. “Fuck, okay. I can do that.”
You swallow him back down easily. Something in his tone stokes the desire to break him; make him cry from getting his dick sucked in the back of his car in an empty parking lot like a loser.  It gets you wetter knowing how eager Soonyoung would satisfy that urge if you bothered asking. 
He squirms when your nose meets the wisps of hair at his base, cock wedge deep in your throat because you like to show off and know he’ll worship the ground you walk on for it.
“Holy shit.” 
One of his hands sneaks along the back of your neck. Just the weight, probably for his own comfort more than anything else. The idea of him fucking your throat makes you clench. 
You tell him as much when you come up for air.
“You can’t just say shit like that.” Soonyoung moans with a rut through your fist. “Fuck.”
“Why not?”
The innocence in your voice is beyond deceitful. You could probably walk him straight into cumming his pants with words alone. But you wait for an answer while lapping at the tip like it’s candy, staring right up at him through wet lashes. 
“Because,” he winces, hips bucking up from another dig of your thumb. “Your mouth—hmmm.”
You give your thighs a break by rushing up into his space for a kiss. He isn’t shy from taste his own spend in your mouth, hands hot up the front of your shirt once again now that the angle allows. Cruel for the sole purpose of seeing him crumble, you tug off your top and rub his cock against your nipples until he paws at the seat for a crumb of comfort.
“Fuck, oh my god. Where did you—”
He only trails off when you bring his hand to your throat, waiting for him to take firmer hold. You see the light leave his eyes. Mind blank because the offer is too sweet to comprehend. 
You suck him back into your mouth, slowly working down until the curve of his hand circles the bulge in your throat. The odd angle doesn’t lend any comfort but you blink away the dampness at your eyes because Soonyoung is rambling again and its music to your ears.
“Oh! —Oh, shit. That's, wow.” he pants with a gentle squeeze. You aren’t a fan of being choked under regular circumstances but something about how appreciative he is encourages you to treat him with uncharacteristic indulgence. 
“Okay okay, shit, I’m close.”
But not after what he’s put you through tonight.
His hips curl up in a failed attempt as you pull away, desperate to keep the heat of your mouth for a few more seconds to no avail. The only relief you grace him with is a tight squeeze at the head just in case he was closer than he let on. 
You sit up and wipe away the mess of drool and precum from your chin, reveling in the open mouth shock Soonyoung appraises you with. “You can take me home now.”
“But…” he makes a pointed gesture to his cock, soaked and painfully hard in his lap. Maybe you’d feel bad for him, but that's only if he didn’t deserve what you’re doing.
“Call one of those other girls that doesn’t complain to take care of it.”
The drive back to your apartment feels infinitely long in the thick silence. Soonyoung’s eyes are all over your body, probably trying to gauge just how pissed you are. If you give him an inch he’ll take a mile. So you stay quiet and find entertainment by picking at the nonexistent dirt under your nails. 
“Well…this was fun?” Soonyoung supplies as he pulls up to the curb in front of your door.
You don’t even respond. A click of the seatbelt and latch of the door announcing your exit as you beeline for the stairs.
You want to stick to your guns and let him suffer for the comment earlier with blue balls. But you also want to drag him into your room and punish him by proving you’re the best he’ll ever have. You only manage to make it two steps from the car before the latter part wins. 
Spinning around, you throw the door open with enough force to startle Soonyoung. “Are you coming?” 
“Really?” 
“Unless you wanted to go hom—” you turn away. 
“Nope, let's go.” He doesn’t seem to believe the offer. But disbelief doesn’t keep him from jumping up at the offer, cock still straining against his sweatpants and the seatbelt is off with the next blink.
He rounds the hood swiftly, corralling you up the few steps that lead to the front door in haste to finish what started in the back seat. You trip in your own eagerness, lips welcoming his with a lewd lick at the seam that would make your elderly neighbor keel over.
“Soonyoung,” you hum. 
“Hmmm,” he growls into the kiss, pressing you flat against the front door. “Love when you say my name like that.”
“Good to know,” you laugh. “But you left your car on.”
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Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie
@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire
@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @writingbarnes
@dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts @wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos
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woodland-gremlin · 21 hours
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Summoning Your Secret Boyfriend Pt. 3
This post is dedicated @fanfics-or-dragons who wrote part of the post. I will put their part in bold. I would suggest checking them out, they write some really interesting stuff.
Previous
“Because it is!” Constantine screams, “They literally say ‘hi’ by fighting each other. Not to mention even if they don’t try to purposely hurt you they often do due to how fragile we are compared to them. Even their weakest would be a challenge to our heavy hitters!”
Constatine tried to take a deep breath to calm down. The kids were obviously alive so they obviously haven't pissed anything off too badly over there. If anything they might have gained favor with something from there. "Kids you may have not bungled whatever the hell you got up to but I seriously doubt you understand the ramifications that can happen when you form ANY type of relationship with beings so powerful you can't comprehend it."
Constatine was actually feeling like the sheer dred was fading and that he could handle this, and then Superman had to butt in to defend his kid. "The kids obviously have not been keeping us informed of their actions as much as they should have, and that will be being addressed Supernova. But they obviously have not gotten themselves into too much trouble with how you describe the beings from this realm. And you are one to talk about dangerous relationships with more powerful beings. The team has hardly had the type of relationships you tend to favor."
Which would have been annoying enough if it wasn't followed by the robin kid bursting out laughing and falling to the ground. Looking directly at Supernova, who was suddenly looking at the ground and bursting out into more laughter. He doesn’t get paid enough to deal with this let alone teenagers.
While Constantine was reenacting the scene from the office, Supernova and Red Robin worked on controlling their laughter.
“It was from when Batman was stuck in the time stream,” Red Robin stated through his muffled laughs.
All eyes turned to focus on Red Robin the moment those words came out of his mouth. The mood turned from slightly light hearted to sullen in a moment. Most members looked like they were sucking on a lemon, remembering how they called him crazy for thinking that Batman was alive. The look in their eyes as they agreed that he lost his mind in grief was always in the back of his mind. Reminding him to be careful with who he trusted and how small that number now was. It was why he liked rubbing it in their faces that he was right, no matter how childish the action was.
“The time stream,” Red Robin continued getting up from the floor, “is a part of the realms. Batman being there was causing them a bunch of problems so they were pretty happy to hand him over after we fixed the problems his presence caused.”
“Yeah,” Supernova chimed in, “and one of their citizens that was fixing the disturbances in the time stream talked about the rules and how Batman was breaking them while they helped us hold up our part of the deal.”
Which was partly true. It was mostly Danny complaining about how much trouble the Justice League causes him and with mentions of laws he needs to study up for his coronation. Apparently every new King throws out the previous ruler’s laws and makes new ones. He decided he would instead use old laws as a framework and make them fairer. They spent a lot of time with him working on them so they have the best understanding of the laws now that their boyfriend is King.
Even without mentioning that Constantine turned from his calmer state into looking half-dead again.
“So let me get this straight,” the con man said while he rubbed the bridge of his nose, “For fixing the disturbances in the time stream that Batman caused, they returned him?”
“Yeah.” “Basically.”
“And you never thought to mention that to anyone?!”
To be continued . . .
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Text
Fable SMP has been an experience that has genuinely changed my life, in ways. I know I only came into it during the final season, but I was around before then too, and I adore this series, or project, or whatever you want to call it, from so many angles. First as a friend, and a fan, and finally now a collaborator, and a creator. I have gotten to work with some of my best friends, and made so many more in the process. It has genuinely been an honour and a privilege to work with so many amazing, talented, kind and creative people over my time in this space. I have learned skills and passions that I never knew I would, and it dragged me out of a creative rut I had been stuck in for a very long time.
I often joke around and talk about it as “the silly little minecraft story” and it is, to an extent, but it’s also so much more than that. It’s a story. Our story, that we got to tell, and that effected us and so many people in so many ways. One that had made me laugh and cry and that I have poured my heart and soul into. And now from the end I can look back and see how beautiful and elaborate and funny and heartbreaking this story is. I can see the creativity and the passion that everyone involved put into making it what it is. And from the end it is so… wonderful. It is something I am so incredibly proud of. I am proud to be a part of it, despite its ups and downs, and I so proud of the people who were involved. Who have made so much. I could not ask to have told this story with a better group of people, and I could not have asked for a better story to be invited into.
It has been a story, and an experience, and friendships that I am genuinely going to cherish.
It’s strange to consider this a goodbye to Fable SMP. Because in my mind it’s not, really. Fable isn’t gone. It’s not going anywhere. It’s still here. The story is there to be rewatched again and again, as many times as we want. I’m certainly not done stewing in this world and retelling it personally (just look at how much is left of Brink-) and I don’t think the fandom is either. Hell, I don’t think a lot of the cast are ready to leave it behind entirely. We’re still around. Fable is still around. We just get to view it in a different light. We get to look back on it, and immerse ourselves again, and see all that we missed the first time in the rush of flipping through the chapters.
So this is not a goodbye to Fable. But it is a thank you. A thank you to the cast, who made such an amazing story, made such an amazing environment to create in, and who gave me so many amazing opportunities. And it is a thank you, so so much, to the community, who got as attached to our characters as we did; played along with our silly games and codes; who encouraged me as I delved into this new way of storytelling for the first time; and who helped make the entire series what it was.
Thank you, truly.
- Connor
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crappymixtape · 2 days
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because of you • part four
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PART ONE • PART TWO • PART THREE • PART FIVE // REQUEST -> @sattlersquarry ❝ an enemies to lovers fic with Steve? 💙 maybe they have to put aside their differences to fight upside down stuff and realize they actually have a lot in common 👀 • 18+ | ( 5.6k – little bit of king!steve, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, enemies to idiots in love, steve x reader )
B E C A U S E O F Y O U • P A R T F O U R 🎶 the elevator, lizzy mcalpine
“Alright. We’re gonna take care of things at the Creel house and your job is take care of things here,” Steve leveled with Eddie, thinking he was out of earshot for everyone else, but you heard it. Knew what he really meant.
Take care of things.
Fight monsters.
Try not to die.
You’d dropped Lucas, Max and Erica off, drove halfway across town to Eddie’s, dumped all your weapons through the gaping hole in the ceiling and threw yourselves in after them. Had outfitted the exterior of the trailer with metal fencing and cages, ladders and locks, hoping – no – praying it would hold and begged the universe to let everyone come out the other side of this.
“Robs, you and Nance are with me.”
Steve pulled taut the belt around his waist and clicked his flashlight on, looking for once like he actually knew what he was doing, and for a split second you thought maybe this just might work. Thought if Steve was that confident, if Nancy was willing to go with him, then maybe it would be alright.
But then it came time for you all to split in half again and you walked with Steve and Nancy and Robin to the front door and out into the ash choked air. Half-hid behind Eddie as they double checked their gear and started to walk away, but Steve stopped at the last second and turned back around.
“Listen. If things here start to go south, I mean at all, you abort. Okay?” he said brows tugged together with conviction, the weight of his words causing you to start trembling. “You draw the attention of the bats, keep ‘em busy for a minute or two, and we’ll take care of Vecna.”
And as you looked at the axe slung over Steve’s shoulder, the shotgun held tight in Nancy’s grasp, heard your molotov cocktails clinking together in Robin’s backpack you realized you didn’t want them to leave because what if they didn’t come back?
“And don’t try to be cute or–or be a hero or something. You’re just–”
“Decoys. Don’t worry. You can be the hero, Steve,” Dustin said rolling his eyes, unable even now to let go of the consistent needling that happened between him and Steve, but you could read between the lines.
I care about you.
Don’t get hurt.
Please be safe.
“Absolutely. Agreed. I mean look at us…we are not heroes,” Eddie admitted shaking his head, his nail covered garbage can lid swung over his shoulder and hair tied back out of his face. Trying so hard to just do his part in all this and after Steve nodded his acknowledgement, he looked at you.
Held your gaze for a minute. Parted his lips with words held heavy on his tongue, but unsure if he should say them. Knowing if he set them free, they would make the stakes unbearable and instead gave you a small nod.
A slight smile.
An attempt at quiet reassurance and as he turned to leave you felt a tangled knot of worry start to swirl at the pit of your stomach and the further he walked away the more knotted it became. Snatched up with it regret, possibility, second and third chances and trying to start over until the sound of someone’s voice shouting into the dark broke your concentration.
Your voice.
“Steve! Wait!”
He had never turned around so quickly, the sound of your voice stopping him dead in his tracks and he waited. For you. Waited as your boots crunched in the dead sticks and leaves on the ground, cracking and snapping with each step until you reached him, breathless and unsure of what you wanted to say but insistent on saying something.
“Everything okay?” he asked, trying to be casual. Unattached. Felt Robin and Nancy’s eyes on you both, but shot them a look and they gave you some space.
“Yeah–I mean, no? I just–we’re about to get swarmed by bats from hell and I...well, I guess what I wanted to say is–” you tripped over your words, felt clumsy and stupid, but desperate. Wanted him to know you wanted to work on things. Wanted to give him another chance, but it just wouldn’t come out and his expression softened as he realized what you were getting at.
“Slow down,” he murmured and you drew in a breath.
In.
Out.
Try again.
“I just want you to know that...I wanna try,” you said, still a bit clumsy, one word falling out after the other. “I wanna work on–on forgiveness or…shit. I don’t know,” you squeezed your eyes shut, hoping it would help you gather up your thoughts and Steve waited. Patient. “Just come back, okay?” you finally asked, opening your eyes to see his mouth tugged up at the corner in a lopsided smile.
“You want me to come back, Princess?” he asked wryly and you scowled.
“I’m gonna let that one go cos ‘end of the world’ and whatever,” you snarked and it made him laugh. A low rumble in his chest that filled you up to the brim and spilled over at the edges.
“Gee thanks.”
“Yeah, you owe me now,” you teased.
“Alright, deal. Promise I’ll get you back when this is all over.”
When this is all over.
“I’m gonna hold you to it,” you said, your voice wobbling a little despite your efforts to keep it even and the sound put an ache in Steve’s chest. Pulled his hand to your cheek. His fingers gently tucking your unruly curls behind your ear.
“Wouldn’t expect any less,” he said quietly, only to you, and then took a couple steps back. Put space between you quickly to try and make it easier, but it stung. The sudden realization that your want for reconciliation was mutual and having to watch it walk away with the possibility of not returning.
The possibility of death.
“Good luck,” you whispered, your throat closing around the sob that had lodged itself in your chest, and watched as Steve disappeared into the dark.
❝ JUST ANOTHER TIME THAT I GO DOWN, BUT YOU ARE KEEPING UP, HOLDING TO A HOPE YOU’LL UNDERMINE ❞
“Eddie, Eddie! It’s working!” Dustin yelled after Eddie helped you back into the trailer.
“Shit–” Eddie handed you his nail covered garbage can lid and grabbed hold of your shoulder. “Listen to me. You leave this trailer no matter what, you hear me? Doesn’t matter if I’m yelling at you for help or–or covered in these fucking bats, you leave.“
“Wha–”
“No. It’s not a discussion.”
“Eddie, I’m not leaving–”
“Yes. You are, sweetheart.”
The ache in your chest swelled unbearably, painfully, tight and squeezing around the possibility that your best friend might not come back through that gate with you and the tears came. Hot against your cheeks as they cut paths down to your jawline.
Swiping his thumb gently across the line of your lashes Eddie gave you a sad smile.
“It’s not the plan, honey, but just in case. Now take this and get inside.”
All you could do was shake your head as Eddie popped back out of the trailer, shouting at Dustin to hurry the hell up, and as you walked back to the angry, gaping hole in the ceiling you could hear scratching on the roof.
“Eddie!” you yelled through your tears.
“I know, I know!” he called back.
“Eddie, they’re on the–”
“The roof! I know! Dammit, Henderson, get the hell in here!” yanking the younger boy into the trailer, Eddie slammed the front door shut and barricaded you in. “Fuck!” he shouted into the door, “I hope this works.”
“It’ll work, it has to work,” Dustin muttered, eyes glued to the air vent above you.
“It has to,” you echoed, quieter and under your breath as an image of Steve wielding his axe in front of Vecna flashed in your mind.
The squeals and shrieks in the air vent were getting louder and louder, scratching closer and closer and the ache in your chest twisted into something uglier, dread, fear.
“Eddie…” Dustin looked over his shoulder, “Eddie can they get through that?”
“Uh–I don’t think so–”
SCREEEEEEECH!
The vent burst open as a demobat clawed it’s way through the plastic cover, it’s long, sharp talons cutting deep gashes in the ceiling.
“FUCK! FUCK!”
“SHIT, SHIT, SHIT!”
Eddie and Dustin were on it before it could get all the way in, jamming their spears into the hole, Die, die, die!! until Eddie slammed one of the garbage can lids over the top of it and sealed it shut, heaving holy shit, holy shit from his lungs.
“Nice,” Dustin gasped from the floor.
“Thanks.”
You didn’t realize you were watching everything through your fingers, face buried in your hands, until Eddie glanced up and saw you.
“Oh, god. You okay? You’re okay. It’s okay,” he closed the distance between you and wrapped his arms around you. “It’s okay, they can’t get in now. It’s okay.”
“Eddie…” Dustin was still on the floor, eyes looking down the hallway to Eddie’s bedroom. “Are there any more vents?”
Eddie tensed against you and froze for a second and then let you go in an instant, “Oh shit.”
“What? Eddie, what??” you shouted as he turned and ran down the hallway, Dustin on his heels, both of them just yelling shit so much now that it didn’t even sound like a word anymore.
“There’s a vent in my roo–”
As Eddie yanked open the door to his room the hissing slap of wings against wood paneling almost drowned out the shrieks that followed.
“That’s not gonna hold!” Dustin screamed.
Eddie shoved you back down the hallway, “Let’s go, let’s go!”
“But the others–”
“We don’t have time!” Eddie shoved at you and Dustin, the younger boy already halfway up the knotted bedsheet hanging out of the ceiling as Eddie snatched up the spare garbage can lid.
“C’mon!” Dustin yelled from the other side.
Grabbing Eddie by the jacket you shook him, “They need more time!”
He met your gaze and sobered, chest heaving as he gasped for air and realized what you were implying.
“They need more time,” you said again, quieter, throat tight around your words as Eddie looked up at Dustin through the gate.
“Fuck,” Eddie whispered harshly, squeezing his eyes shut against he knew you needed to do. “Dammit, I’m sorry,” he said looking back up at Dustin.
“What? What d’you mean sorry?? Eddie what d’you mean sorry?? What are you doing? What are you–”
Grabbing a spear, Eddie sliced the bedsheet in half and you watched as the other end fell to the floor in a pile at your feet.
That was going to make getting back just a tad more difficult.
“EDDIE! EDDIE, NO! STOP!” Dustin was screaming now, strained and painful and you couldn’t bear to look at him.
“C’mon,” Eddie grabbed your arm and pulled you with him back to the door.
Steve’s bat was heavy in your hands, your fingers readjusting their grip in anticipation of putting your training session back at the meadow to good use.
…wide stance right?…choke up on your hold…it’ll make your swings hit harder…follow through with your hip.
Sucking in a breath you could hear Dustin still screaming at you from the other side.
“Come back!! Don’t do this! Please, don’t do this!”
And your body went numb as Eddie put a hand on the doorknob, “This is for Stevie. For Nance. For Robin and Max and everyone. And we come back alive, okay?” Eddie said to you, brown eyes soft like brown sugar, crinkled at the edges as he tried to smile and you tried to give him one back.
“Okay. Together,” you said.
“Together,” he echoed and then yanked the door open to a swarm of bats from hell all screeching and clamoring to get their hooks into you.
The bat in your hands hit hard against the body of the demobat flying above you with a sickening crunch. Caught it mid-air as you swung it down into the ground and twisted it, shouldered down and killed it with another pop! but you were far from finished.
Pushing loose hair out of your eyes you glanced up to see Eddie wrestling with his own hoard of nasties that the Upside Down had coughed up.
THWACK!
You swung again in a half circle, taking two demobats down with one swing and a grin flickered at the corners of your lips. Steve would be proud.
“Just a little longer, sweetheart!” Eddie shouted over the slap of desiccated wings and sharp, gnashing teeth.
A little longer, you told yourself, swinging the bat again and again, Eddie keeping up with his spear and shield.
Pulling back, you swung heavy at a particularly nasty looking demobat, a sneer on your lips doing as Steve instructed and following with your hips, but it didn’t connect and you stumbled forward, scraping your hands on the ground.
Fuck, was your immediate first thought, your bat clattering a few feet away with the impact, and again, fuck, when claws sliced through the heavy canvas of your tactical vest and into your back.
The cuts burned, hot and angry, the fabric against your back growing damp with blood, but you couldn’t stop. You had to get Steve’s bat. It was just out of reach as you scrambled against the dirt, fingers fumbling on the handle until something slipped through your hair at the back of your neck. Gritty like sandpaper, slithering as it crept around your throat and wrapping around and around and your eyes grew wide when it squeezed.
“Eddie!” you croaked, hands scrambling against the demobat tail tightening at your neck, cutting off your air supply.
“Wha–shit! Hang on, sweetheart! Hang on!”
The look on Eddie’s face scared you, like maybe you were going to die and god you didn’t want to die, and then the demobat yanked at you and everything went sideways as you hit the dirt, back first. The cuts there screamed and your head thunked hard enough against the ground you saw stars. Then, as if to add insult to injury, the demobat tightened its hold so that now and truly you could not breathe.
Your fingers scrambled against the flesh of the monster, struggling to loosen its grip, but it felt impossible. It was too tight.
Little pinpricks of light appeared against your vision as you watched red cracks of lighting split the sky in two. You couldn’t remember what it was like to take a breath. How long had it been? Thirty seconds? A minute? Longer? Where was Eddie?
A fuzzy feeling crept around you, warm and wrapping around your body as a shadowy haze blurred in at the edges of your vision. Closing in further and further and melting your pain along with it. You couldn’t feel the scrapes across your back, the cuts on your knees, the burning in your throat.
Were you going to die?
But what about Steve? You promised. He promised.
I’ll get you back when this is all over.
You needed to tell him how much you wanted to try. Wanted to hear him out. Wanted to see the real Steve, the one Eddie trusted so much, the one you were starting to feel like might actually prove you wrong, but you weren’t breathing. Hadn’t been breathing and you were dying and–
“God dammit–die, asshole!”
Suddenly the tail loosened at your neck and your body heaved you from the ground, writhing at the ability to breathe again. Gasping and gulping and pulling in ash-thick air, your hands pressed to your throat to make double damn sure it was really gone.
“Christ–” A hand, wide and warm was at the small of your back and the voice in your ear made you feel like you couldn’t breathe again.
Steve.
“Told you I’d come back, princess. You alright?”
You swallowed the lump in your throat, but it wouldn’t go away and your fingers smoothed over the angry, swollen skin.
“Look, twins,” Steve tried to joke, tugging his shirt down so you could see the same marks on his neck and it pulled a hoarse laugh from your lips, but it hurt. “*Shit–*I’m sorry, don’t talk. C’mon, we gotta get out of here.”
You wanted to stop for a second and look at him, the moles dotted on his cheek and neck, the dip of his cupid’s bow, the cut on his cheek and wipe the dirt from his forehead and just–
“We gotta go!” Robin yelled from the trailer and Steve scooped his hands under your arms and pulled you to your feet.
Nancy was with Robin back over at the trailer door yelling something about not jumping through gates like that anymore – Dustin? But didn’t he…and then your stomach lurched.
“Eddie?” you croaked, fingers digging into Steve’s waist, “Where’s Eddie?”
“Shh, don’t talk. He’s okay, he’s already in the trailer.”
“Where–”
Steve stopped for a split second and looked down at you, brows pinched together, his eyes dark, worried, “I’ll explain everything, but we need to leave.”
You nodded and he picked up the pace again dragging you both into the trailer and, as Robin says, by some miracle you all piled through and came out the other side.
❝ I FEEL IT COMING ON, YOU CAN BE WELL AWARE, IF I EVER TRY TO PUSH AWAY YOU CAN JUST KEEP ME ❞
When you all stumbled out of Eddie’s trailer into Hawkins it felt like nothing had changed – it still looked like the Upside Down.
Ash fell from the sky, dark clouds hung heavy overhead and smoke rolled up from downtown as you struggled to process what had happened. They’d killed Vecna, or at least blasted his ass out the window and onto the ground below, but when they went to check he was gone and that was when the clock chimed. Four chimes, four deaths.
Everyone was worried about Max, but everyone was also in various states of injury, so you all decided to split up. Nancy and Robin took Lucas, Max and Dustin to the hospital and after you’d suffocated Eddie with hugs he said he wanted to hang back and look for Wayne. Part of you wanted him to stay, but Wayne was the only family he had so you understood. With Vecna ‘gone’ there were no real pressing threats – for now.
So, all that was left was you and Steve.
“Let me give you a ride?” he asked, dirt flecked across his cheeks and forehead, bottom lip split.
“I can’t go home like this,” your voice had made a return, but it was hoarse, sounded rough like gravel and every time you spoke Steve winced.
“Oh, right. Okay, yeah–uh–we can go to my place. My parents are out of town on business, so no one’s there. Get cleaned up and then I can take you home.”
Piling into Steve’s BMW you could feel the adrenaline starting to melt away. The pain that your body had held at bay starting to push against your skin, your very bones, a deep ache that threatened to break you and you fought it as hard as you could.
“Thank you,” you half-whispered into the quiet of the car and Steve’s fingers twitched on the gear shift.
“For…?”
You looked across the center console at him, “For saving me.”
That pulled his attention and he met your gaze and for a split second everything felt suspended, held in mid-air, floating in the space between you and Steve’s lips parted. Trying to find the words.
“You don’t have to thank me,” he said quietly, still looking at you, then he flicked his eyes back to the road. “I know you said I owe you, but…I really do. I–I couldn’t stop thinking about you after we left the trailer. How fucked up everything was and how I didn’t get to say everything I wanted.”
You watched his profile, the strong line of his jaw, the way it ticked when he clenched his teeth and fought back the lump in his throat.
“I owe you a lot more. A lot more.”
“Steve–”
“No, I mean it,” throwing the BMW into park he turned to look at you again. "You've made me feel...so many things I didn't think were possible anymore and–god–I thought about losing you and I just..."
"I did too," you admitted to the dark and it pulled his gaze.
"You did?"
"Yeah, Steve. I think I–ouch," a sharp pain punched in you leg and you doubled over from the force of it.
“Wait. Are you hurt?”
You sucked in a breath and tried to sit back up, tried to play it off. "Yeah, I mean, aren’t we all?”
“No...your back," Steve ghosted a hand over the back of your vest and pulled his hand away damp with blood.
“I–the demobat–” stuttering over your words Steve didn’t let you finish and stumbled out of the car and around to your side to get you into the the house.
The Harrington’s place was out of a stupid catalogue. All the art, the vases, the plants and furniture – it all looked staged, not lived in. If you hadn’t felt like you wanted to throw up you would’ve lingered a bit longer in the entry, but Steve was pulling you up the stairs and you were too weak to fight it.
“Shower’s in here,” he said, opening the door to his parent’s room.
Exquisite sky lights cut large rectangles into the ceiling and washed the room in the dim, cool light of the moon above. A clearing in the smoke. Somehow his house hadn’t been swallowed up by the gashes in the earth. A large sleigh bed sat against the wall, a large painting of a garden hanging above it and two matching nightstands with lamps perched on either side. Nice, but cold. Not lived in.
Too busy looking around, Steve came back out of the master bath and called your name, but when you didn’t look he took the few steps to stand right in front of you.
Warm. Safe. Steve.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Sorry, uh–yeah, I'm okay.”
He looked at you, skeptical, but needed to gather more supplies and so didn’t push you on it.
“Alright, princess. I got the shower going in there, but don’t move too quick. Take it slow, one step at a time and I’ll be back with a towel and some bandaids.”
“Okay–”
“Seriously,” he said, “I mean it. Slow.”
“I will,” you insisted, a smile twitching at the corners of your lips and he gave you a little grin.
“Okay. Be right back.”
Even if he hadn’t asked you, you couldn’t go faster than one foot in front of the other. The pain was almost unbearable now, screaming all over your body and you didn’t know if you could handle a shower, but it wasn’t an option. Infection would finish off what the demobats couldn’t, and so, layer by layer, you pulled your clothes from your body.
Your jeans, your vest, your shirt, your socks, your shoes. All of it a muddied brown and red pile on the floor leaving you in your bra and underwear. Your back was burning, felt like fire and when you stepped into the shower expecting more pain, you found peace.
Carefully shuffling on the tile floor, the steam billowing up from the shower floor felt like it was swallowing you whole. Filled the air around you and made everything hazy. Made it feel otherworldly, like heaven, and as you stared you watched the water falling down your body turn rusty. Mixing with the dirt and ash and blood from your skin and carrying it down the drain. Washing away any remaining proof that interdimensional monsters are real and that you’d nearly died killing them. The only things left hinting at what had been life or death, would be all the little silvery scars after your wounds healed.
You turned the heat up and as more steam clouded the stall, you felt a warmth wrap itself around you. One that felt deeper than the hot water. Like a heavy cloak draping over you and you wanted to let it swallow you whole. Wanted to nestle into it and succumb to the deep, soft feeling it was pouring into you and your vision started to blur at the edges.
“Oh–” you half-gasped. Stumbled as the world swam in front of you. Pressed a hand heavy against the wall to steady yourself and your fingers slipped against the tile.
“Hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa–”
Suddenly someone was opening the shower, sucking out the steam, and a shock of cold air hit you as Steve filled the door frame.
“Shit, hang on–” he swore softly and stepped in with you still wearing his jeans and ripped up shirt. Water soaking him from head to toe, he gently looped an arm around your waist and held you steady. “I got you, I got you,” he said, voice barely above a whisper, and it pulled your gaze up.
Water clinging to your lashes, your lids were heavy as you blinked and when he finally came into focus it made your heart ache. A deep pinch between his brows, eyes searching yours and trying to work out what he needed to do to fix you. What he needed to do to keep you here.
God, he wanted to keep you.
“I’m fine,” you insisted weakly, pushing against him as your lips tried to twist into a scowl and it pulled a huff of a laugh from him.
“No, you’re not,” his tone was firm, but gentle. The rough pads of his fingers pressing into your side as he eased you onto the seat at the corner of the stall. Made doubly sure you weren’t going to fall and half-stepped back out onto the bathmat.
Shrugging off his shirt, he pulled it over his head and tossed it into the tub. Kicked off his wet Levis and left them in a pile on the floor. Grabbed a washcloth from the towel rack and stepped back in with you and closed the door behind him.
Kneeling, Steve sank down through the steam, putting himself at your height for once. Water running hot and soothing both of your aching bodies as he wetted the wash cloth. Then, pushing up on one knee, he started to gently scrub the dried blood from your forehead. Rinsed the cloth out and moved to your hand. Looked it over for any obvious wounds and softly cleaned the dirt from your palm. Then, satisfied with what he found under all the grime, he turned to your other hand. Moved up your arms and paid close attention to the cut on your right shoulder. Winced and snuck a glance at you when you sucked in a pained gasp through gritted teeth.
“Sorry,” he said and when he looked up at you it was a thousand sorry’s, so fucking sorry, and it made your chest ache. “Let me look at your back,” he said, standing to see the three nasty cuts across your skin there and he huffed a sigh. “These could be worse,” he assessed, shaking his head, “I’ll look in the light when you’re out.”
He bent back down and knelt in front of you again, water splashing against his back as he took your hand in his. He started up again at your feet. Skipped over the bruises on your shins and the angry-looking scrape on your left knee and as he gently shifted you to reach your upper leg, the water running off your body turned bright red.
“Oh shit..." he breathed, a deep frown pulling at his features as his eyes frantically searched for the source, worry tugging at the pit of his stomach. It couldn’t have been your back…where was it coming from?
And then he finally saw it. The nasty gash on your thigh courtesy of the same damn demobat as it dragged its claw down through your skin. “Christ,” he hissed under his breath, moving to let the water run over it, “We gotta clean this–”
“Fuck, Steve–” you choked out, the pain in your leg white hot as you pressed a hand heavy into his before he could use the washcloth. “It hurts,” you half-sobbed and he quickly blocked the shower with his back again.
“Shit–I’m sorry–dammit–” a string of curses fell from his lips as he leaned closer to get a better look.
The few seconds of water had done a good job of cleaning it up, but he could see now how deep it was. Probably needed stitches, just like his stomach would, and he squeezed his eyes shut for a minute.
It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay. We’ll be okay.
Pulling in a deep breath he went to the place in his mind he knew all too well. The one where he closed out the sick feeling of worry blooming in his chest, the thoughts of 'what if' that didn't end nicely and hardened against it all so that he could do what he needed to keep you safe.
“Alright, princess,” he reached over his shoulder and turned off the tap, then looked back up at you, still on his knees. “I gotta get you out and dried off, okay? Get this fixed up,” he said, nodding at your leg, “Will you let me do that?”
A soft scowl pulled at your features and it almost made him smile – how pretty you were even when you were mad. Even like this.
“I don’t think you’re gonna give me a choice,” you tried to snark around the sob in your throat and that finally cracked a tiny grin on his face.
“I’m not,” he gently agreed and with that you let him lift you from the seat. Let his hands, warm and wide at your waist, guide you from the shower and wrap a towel around your tired body.
Setting you at the edge of the sleigh bed, Steve dug around in the box of medical supplies he’d slowly put together during his time with the Upside Down. Bandages, rubbing alcohol, peroxide, antibiotic ointment, wraps, gauze–
“Steve,” you whispered and it pulled his gaze.
“What is it? Are you okay? Are you dizzy?”
You gave him a weak smile, “I promise I’m fine.” He nodded, not wholly believing you. “What is that for?” you asked, pointing at a needle and thread and his expression shifted.
“For cuts,” was all he could manage and it made your stomach lurch.
“Like mine?”
He chewed on his lower lip, fingers twisting the thread dipping through the eye of the needle. “Like yours,” he agreed quietly and you squeezed your eyes shut.
No. No, no, no. Not here. Not Steve.
“Hey, hey,” Steve pressed his hand into yours, warm and safe, “I promise it’s gonna be okay. Look, I’ve got my own shit I need to do too.” He moved his arm aside to show you the cut along his stomach from the lake gate. “See? Right?”
You were crying, but it was too quiet to really know and when Steve saw your tears silently slipping down your cheek he caught them with the pad of his thumb.
“I know how scary this is,” he finally said, voice a low vibration you could feel in your chest, reassuring and true, “But I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you. I swear.”
And the way he was looking at you was something you’d never seen from him before. Features pulled in pain, agony, but not from his wounds. Searching for something in your eyes he wasn’t sure of, but knew he’d find if he looked long enough and you lifted your hand to his over your cheek.
“Okay,” came out cracked, wobbly, crying, and he gave you the tiniest smile.
You watched as he pulled through a new line of thread, knotted the end and dipped the needle in rubbing alcohol and a wave of nausea crashed over you.
“Here,” Steve caught the look on your face, the way you were shaking, “Lie on your back and hold this to your face. Scream into it if you have to, okay? I’m going to go as fast as I can.”
He handed you a pillow and thank god because you were sure if you’d had to watch, you were going to pass out.
Doing as he asked, you laid back on the bed with the pillow pressed to your face, still only wearing your underwear and bra, and a thought struck you – if this had been literally any other time, what would Steve had said? Would he tell you how beautiful you looked? How he liked the lace trim across your bra straps? How he wanted to trace his finger along the hem of your panties? How–
“Oh, fuck–” slipped out of your mouth, muffled against the pillow, but you didn’t get a chance to finish because everything went black.
“Hey, hey! Oh, shit. Dammit. Princess? Are you with me?” Steve had just finished the first stitch when you suddenly went limp on the bed.
Quickly leaning up he put his ear to your chest for a heartbeat and heard a steady thum, thum, thum. Happy with that he sat back up and took even more solace in the even breaths falling from your lips.
“Sorry,” he whispered to you, “I didn’t do well with it the first time either.”
Then, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead he finished stitching up your leg. Cleaned up your back and applied a few bandages there where needed. It’d looked worse than it actually was, thank god. He pulled back the covers and lifted you up to the head of the bed and tucked you in, checking your breathing again to make damn sure.
He made quick work of stitching up his stomach. Pausing only a couple of times to swallow down his own nausea, and when he was done, he changed into a Hawkins Athletics shirt and shorts and crawled in next to you.
Despite the world on fire outside his window and despite the fact they couldn't find a body for Vecna, it was all okay for right now. In that moment. With you there in that room, hidden in the indigo shadows as he clicked off the light, promising he'd finish saying what he'd started in the car. And soon enough exhaustion claimed Steve too, pulling him into the same deep, dreamless sleep that you'd thankfully found.
[ NOTE: THIS IS PART FOUR OF A FIVE – POSSIBLY MORE – PART SERIES, PART FIVE TO COME SOON ]
crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️
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odetojupiter · 3 days
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so, we know that abuse and victim responses to abuse are very central to aftg, but what i find interesting is how other characters respond to the victim’s reactions, especially when it comes to mourning their abuser. there’s something about kevin mourning riko, aaron mourning tilda, neil mourning mary, andrew mourning cass, thats so important to me because it really truly highlights how even when people are united through similar traumas, the differences in their situations makes it impossible to fully understand the relationship a person has to their abuser. neil, aaron, and andrew are united through the abuse, neglect, or - what the fuck is the word i’m thinking of? permit? condone? i mean, knowingly allowing it to happen and not intervening - stemming from a maternal figure. but neil can’t understand why andrew would hold on to cass for so long - he refused to let her go until aaron came into the picture. and andrew can’t understand why aaron would mourn for tilda, potentially viewing aaron’s grief as a betrayal of their promise. and they all ridicule kevin for his reactions to riko. of course, neil and andrew are also abused by riko, but they still can’t understand the complicated relationship between kevin and riko because, at the end of the day, they just weren’t there.
i mean this is primarily an observation but i really love how trauma and trauma response is depicted as nuanced, complex and overall just difficult to understand from an outsider perspective in the books. it reads as really real, and though it can be frustrating when a character doesn’t understand a different character’s response, you have to understand that their perception of said character’s response is warped by their own experience of abuse.
andrew bounced from home to home, never had stability, so obviously he held tight on to the first mother-figure that didn’t outright hurt him. his self-worth was probably low enough that he thought living with drake was a fine price to pay to keep cass.
neil only ever had his mother, and he’d willingly accept her harsh hands because he believed she was just keeping him safe from the very real dangers that were closing in on them.
aaron was dealing with an addiction, and so was his mother; he was equally dependent on her to avoid withdrawal as he was scared of her anger.
i don’t really have a point anymore but you get what i’m saying
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hyuny-bunny · 2 days
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cybersex | ot8 series
chapter I • chapter III
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MDNI (18+): this series will depict sex work and acts of sex. content warnings will include the following for this chapter: mention of masturbation, oral (m rec), alcohol, p in v (no condom / reader on birth control), cum, creampie/breeding, use of pet names (good boy/puppy), threesome, afab reader
genre: skz x fem!reader, use of she/her/hers
wc: 3.5K
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Chapter 2
You had stopped by to see Sana at the restaurant tonight while she was having her break. Since you didn’t have an official breakroom, most of the staff would sit in the storage room. You had come in from the alley through the exit and sat chatting away in the storage room. It was far from ideal but the room was quite big, there were tucked away corners stacked with crates no one used that doubled as your chairs. As you caught Sana up on all the moving festivities and the cute downstairs neighbor who always seemed to be heading out as you were coming in, someone walked into the room. You both fell quiet hearing two familiar voices.
“Do you really think it’s her?”
“All the dots connect back to her. Look, she’s been moving into that place all week and it just so conveniently happens to be that KitsuneKitty has been on a break?” You clocked in on Jeongin’s voice, Sana is about to speak but you’re quick to cover her mouth.
“Dude-”
“Hear me out, who else would Sana bring on to her stream? We know what her girlfriend looks like from the other streams. It’d only make sense considering that Sana and Y/N were living up until this last week. Then, after she came on the first stream, she filmed from the same room, two more times after that stream, before doing it in another spot. Besides, do you really think she makes enough here? To live in that apartment all alone?”
“You’re kinda creeping me out with how closely you pay attention to detail.” You hear Seungmin say as they shuffle around in their spot. They were talking about you not even realizing you were there listening to everything. 
“And you should pay attention more. Then, just the other day, I saw a box in the lobby on my way out addressed to her,” Jeongin is abruptly cut off by Seungmin.
“Please tell me you didn’t open her package.”
“OF COURSE NOT… I looked up the return address and it was to a sex store online.” You kick a bag of flour in the corner on accident. They stop talking for a moment trying to see if anyone else is in the storage room. Sana is frozen as a statue, she doesn't dare to take a breath. 
“Look, I’m not saying it isnt her… but what does it good does it do us to know if it is her? What’re you gonna say? ‘Hey, I wank it to you almost every night, big fan of your work’? You can’t even look her in the eye as it is, could you look her in the eyes if she knew how much you-” It was Seungmins turn to be cut off
“Oh don’t act like you’re above it! Your walls are a lot thinner than you think. I don’t know what I’d do though… Probably beg her to use me for her own pleasure.” The conversation comes to an abrupt stop when you hear the storage room door swing open. This time it’s  Minho’s voice that booms in. 
“I have plates getting cold, can you two stop fucking around and run them?” 
“Sorry, Jeongin wanted to discuss his revelations about your little minx. He’s getting too antsy for that surprise stream.” Seungmin slaps the back of Jeongins shirt as he pushes him out of the storage room. The room is silent once more with only the faint sound of Minho talking.
You turn to Sana to find that her eyes have gone as wide as yours. Your head is whirling with thoughts, all consumed by the reality that they knew. It didn’t scare you though, it only added to your excitement. Oh, tonight’s surprise might’ve been spoiled as you had planned a face reveal but another idea had come to mind. Instead, you toyed with the idea of what Jeongin had said. You pull out your phone to text the two of them.
“What’re you doing? Are you okay? I’m so sorry I should have never told those two idiots about my stream I just didn’t even think they were sober enough to remember let alone watch.” Sana asked worriedly, there’s a fear inside of her bubbling over, that she would be the reason you felt violated.
“This isn’t your fault! I’m fine really, I don’t mind at all. I’m a little surprised I guess but I knew the risk I was taking. Besides, I’m a little surprised that they would even begin to pay that much attention.” You say grabbing Sana by both arms to reassure her that you are more than okay. There was nothing to be upset about truthfully, you were flattered that they watched your streams. “Now, I think I owe my little detectives a surprise for figuring it out.
You: hey! do you two want to come by my place for some drinks tonight? i have a surprise for you both :3
Jeongin: sure! we’re both working rn but i’ll pick something up on the way :) 
Seung: sweeeet, whats the surprise?
You: it’s nothing really but its really something you’ll love!
They took the bait so easily it was almost comical, Sana was leaning over your shoulder watching your texts. 
“Oh you are a little minx, aren’t you? I think Mina and I will have to watch this tonight.”
You had set the room up for tonight's show, this room had been your best surprise yet. The windows were covered by white floor-to-ceiling drapes, tied with black ribbon and embroidered with delicate flowers. You had left the hardwood exposed, opting for a white fur throw rug in place moving it in or out of the way depending on the occasion. The bed was centered in the room, it was covered by silk pink sheets, a lacey pink comforter, white throw blankets, and an assortment of pillows in all shapes and sizes. The room was dimly with your led light bulbs, offering a soft pink glow to the room, it seemed like a sweet and coquettish room aside from the bookshelf lined with vibrators, dildos, and other assorted sex toys. 
You had prepped yourself like you normally had for these streams, the makeup was always fairly simple. A smooth base with glowy skin, the perfect shade of blush that made you look flushed, an eye shadow look that held more emphasis on the strategically placed shimmers that captured like diamonds with light reflections, and the mauve shade of lipstain that made your lips look pouty and bitten. You put on a matching black two-piece set under your inconspicuous outfit consisting of a grey sweater and black shorts that were a tighter fit, topped with a pair of black over-the-knee socks. The stream was set to start at 11 pm and your boys had arrived at 10 pm on the dot.
You opened the door with a gleeful smile, welcoming them in. They both wore t-shirts with sweats, and both had a cologne that wafted in the room. While you had never felt any crushing feelings for the two of them, there was no denying how cute they were. They were cute in the way that gets a girl giddy when she sees her waiter is this hot and their sweet mannerisms just added to the effect. You asked them how their day was as you pulled out some snacks for the beer they had brought over. You all sat on the floor surrounding the coffee table, the buzz slowly crept up on you.
“Mm so what was our surprise?” Seungmin asked as he took a sip of his drink. Jeongin had been frequently checking his phone, it was almost time. You had decided that now was as good of a time as any. There was still about 10 minutes from the countdown, that left the perfect amount of time to see if your plan would go as you wanted.
“You sure you want it now? Jeongin seems a little antsy, are you sure you want the surprise right now?” You smile to the both of them letting your eye contact linger on Jeongin a little longer, his lip bitten by his teeth.
‘Oh uh, um, yeah sorry I just was, uh, waiting for something.” He says before locking his phone once more and setting it down on the coffee table. You wink at him before telling them to follow you to the surprise, not missing the way Seungmin cocks a brow in surprise, and Jeongin’s cheeks flush pink. You walk down the hall to the two of them in toe, before you reach the door, you look up to the two of them with a warning. 
“You can refuse your surprise if you want, it’s no fun if you don’t want it got it?” They both shake their heads quickly like puppies before sparing a glance to each other. You open the door instructing them to sit in front of the screen, once the door is closed behind you, there's an internal flip switch for you.
 “I was thinking long and hard about what you said, and really, it warms my heart to know you two watch me to get off.” The tops of their cheeks are burning as they sit cross-legged staring at you sink to your knees, crawling over to them on all fours before stopping between the two of them. 
“And I thought that there was no better to reward you two for being so supportive of me then to return the favor? Hmm? I mean hearing you say you’d let me use Jeongin, got me so wet I had to come straight home and touch myself to the thought.” You notice the strain in their pants is growing, you feel yourself getting hotter when you lean forward resting your hands on the tops of their thighs. 
“You’ll let me use tonight, right, Jeongin? You’ve been such a good boy waiting for my return, you want to make me happy mm?” You say rubbing your hand up his thigh to where you can see the outline of his cock imprinting his sweats, he nods yes and whimpers when you brush your hands just across his boner. “Poor baby, can’t even use your words and I haven’t even started. I need to hear you say yes.”
“Y-yes, p-please.” You pull him into a kiss by his shirt muttering good boy and letting him lean back. You turn to Seungmin, his eyes are blown out staring at the hand resting on his thigh. You pick his chin up to make him look you in the eyes. His big brown puppy eyes stare at you, if it wasn’t for the waiting audience of viewers you would’ve pounced on the two of them already.
“You too puppy? I can’t touch you unless you say you want me to.”
“Yes.” Seungmin says almost above a whisper. You lean forward planting a sweet kiss on his lips as well. 
You swiftly stand up stripping yourself of the shorts and sweater, reaching for your mask before pressing the button to begin the stream. The chat is pouring with comments about where you’ve been, the new set up and most importantly your two guests. You giggle at some of the comments that already begging them to strip.
“You’re all gonna have to be warm and welcoming to my two guests okay? They’ve been some long-time supporters of mine and I have to show my gratitude in so my way right?” You say taking notice of the two boys palming themselves from the monitor. “Can my puppies strip for me?”
Any thoughts the two of them have ever shared are out the window, they both are pulling their shirts off, ridding themselves of all clothes til they're down to their underwear. You instruct them both to stay standing up, you look back at the monitor catching a glimpse of what everyone else was watching. You bite your lip looking at the monitor rubbing their hard on’s over their underwear, while stroking Seungmin, you pull Jeongin in close to you, reaching up to grab the waistband of his underwear with your teeth pulling them down just until hit his knees. His thighs shiver and the feeling of your mouth so close to where he needed it. He kept his arms and hands behind his back unsure of what to do with them, he stepped out of the underwear where you returned to Seungmin to do the same. They’re both much bigger than you expected which only sends a rush of wetness into the spot in your panties that's already soaking through. 
You take Seungmin into your mouth looking up at him, he’s looking down at you with his jaw slack and moans slipping past his lips while you take as much of him into your mouth. You feels so warm and wet around him, he cant help the way his cock twitches when you moan so heavily around his cock. He forces himself to keep his hands at his sides while you work your mouth on him but the idea of taking a fistful of your and rutting himself into your mouth is tantalizing. Jeongin watches in awe looking up at his roommate's fucked expression, he waits like the good boy he is. Your hand still stroking him, his tip angry pink with drops of precum beading at the tip. The movement of your mouth against Seungmin gets sloppier as you leave your spit and saliva covered all over his cock, you feel him getting closer to cumming with the way he twitches in your mouth. You pull off him and he whines out at the loss, his cock twitching while you keep pumping ever so slowly.
“Such good boys aren’t they? Do we think they should cum yet?” You say while moving to Jeongin to bring him into your mouth next, he almost cums when your tongue makes contact. There’s a large donation thats sent to you that reads off a message
$1000 donation from hyjnny “let the one in your mouth fuck you doggy since he’s such a good dog”
You let him out of your mouth with a pop and smile looking back at the camera, thanking the donor. Your legs feel weak at the thought of letting Jeongin take you from behind. You continue to make sloppy wet noises against his cock, taking him as far down your throat before gagging and going back in once more. He watches with eyes wide, it feels like a dream to watch you take him down your throat. He was always shy with his size, too many of his partners complained that it wasn’t pleasurable so the idea of not only being so far down your throat but to fuck you in front of the thousands of people watching wanted to make him cry cumming.
Seungmin is starting to thrust into your hand as most of your focus is on Jeongin fitting in your mouth. He’s erratically fucking into the makeshift hole that is your hand, letting some of his own spit dribble out. You finally pull off Jeongin, and a line spit connecting your mouth to his cock stays between you two. You instruct them to kneel now once more in front of the camera, you align them to face each other with you in between, you lean into kiss Seugmin and place Jeongins hands on your tits. They’re both squishing you between them, Jeongin focused on groping your tits and ridding you of your bra. Seungmin’s hand dives to firmly grip your neck in his hand while Jeongin humps you over your underwear from behind. The room fills with the sound of wet kisses and breathy moans. You pull Seunmin off your mouth and pull your panties off to leave you in nothing but your socks. Another donation pings,
$500 donation from 97ddynahc “suck the brunette off while the other fucks you from behind, let them both breed your holes” 
Your pussy dripped with the need for the two of them, to take them both at the same time was going to take a lot to not orgasm at the first movement. You let Jeongin guide your hips in place, his tip swiping at your entrance and nudging your clit sending a chill through you and a gasp. 
“Let me know if it’s too much okay? I know I’m on the bigger side and its uncomfortable for some people,” Jeongin says in small voice, hes terrified of hurting.”
“I promise, puppy.” Every time you called them ‘good boy’ or ‘puppy’ it only made Jeongin want to fuck the sweetness out of you until you could only beg. He slides in letting you adjust to him before moving. He fills you up, you feel every inch and ridge inside of you as he rocks his hips back in forth. You thighs shake wanting to just squirt all over his cock in that moment.
“Jeongin, ah, please.. Go harder please,” Your whimpers sound like music to them, it doesn’t take long for him to pick up the pace, slamming his hips down into you while Seungmin grabs your face to do the same. Seungmin takes hold of your head, creating a makeshift ponytail as he begins fucking your mouth, he’s big. He hits the back of your throat with every thrust, the motion of the two of you only forces you to take Seungmin even further down your throat.
Jeongin can't help himself, he’s so entrapped with the way your ass moves with every slam of his hips. He adjusts your hips to pick up more speed and hits that spongey spot inside you, the new angle causes you to moan vibrating against Seungmins cock. It felt so dirty to be used the way you were at this very moment but it only made you clench around Jeongins cock. They both are panting and grunting with every thrust, skin slapping against skin. You feel your orgasm approaching quickly and hard. The build-up in your stomach has you clenching harder than before causing Jeongin to thrust deeper, he slows down and grips your hips fully pulling you into him. Burying his cock deep in your pussy he lets go of everything, he whines loudly and shakily, and you wonder if the neighbors can hear him. He doesn't stop thrusting knowing you're close. Seungmin pulls off you and starts stroking himself to allow himself to cum on your face and chest. Your mouth hangs open while he shoots his warm white cum all over your face and chest letting whatever you catch in your mouth, swallow back. Jeongin continues thrusting grabbing your arms to hold them behind and Seungmin reaches under you to circle your clit as you cry out, squirting all over the two of them. You both stay still, trying to catch your breathe. You look up at the monitor, your mask sloppily misaligned and the other two boys are about to pass out. You wave goodbye and say your thank yous turning the stream off. 
You crawl over to the bed reaching for your robe, trying to grip the bed to stand up but your legs give out. Jeongin stands up somewhat stable, lifting you up into his arms with is arms wrapped around your waist.
“ I have water in the shower for us, theres some.. water bottles in there.” You say tired as Jeongin sits you on the love seat in the corner. Seungmin is grabbing a towel from the dresser to layover the mess covering the floors.
Jeongin remerges with water in hand. Your throat is sore but you feel like your on cloud 9. No one says a word while you drink the water down.
“So uh… How was it?” You ask to break the silence.
“Better then I ever could have dreamed of. Would you… want to maybe do it again?” Seungmin is the first to speak, you feel yourself blushing. It felt so silly to blush after you just let them cum in/on you.
“ Oh uh.. Definetely… I don’t know about a threesome again. That was a lot of cardio for me” You giggle at the last part. Jeongin laughs, it was one he does when he was a little shy about compliments.
“Sorry for cumming in you, I wasn’t sure if i should but can I get you a Plan B or um,” Jeongin asks but you shake your head laughing.
“No worries here, I’m on the pill. Do you guys mind keeping this between us? I just wouldn’t want anyone at work to know if that’s okay?” You ask.
“Worried about Minho? Don’t worry he’s hopelessly in love with you but this stays between us… and maybe everyone who watched but who cares about those one’s.” Seungmin says reassuring you. 
You walk the two of them to the door and say your goodnights, you settle away in bed after a nice long bath, trying to relax any possibility of sore muscles. You’re drifting to sleep when you get a message.
hyjnny: hey babe, loved your live tonight. If you ever want to collaborate sometime let me know, think we might be pretty close. Check my page out, i think you’ll like what you see. Here’s my number if you want to meet up sometime xxx-xxx-xxxx
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a/n: feeling a little rusty but i hope you all love this chapter, look forward the next one ;)
taglist (7/30): @skzooluvr @breadpuddingboys @weshhhhhhhhhhhhh @ihrtlix @complete-kpop-trash @strayzid @amara-mars
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buckysgrace · 2 days
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Hi. You’re amazing!
Do you ever write fluff? Like if you found out you were pregnant with Billy’s baby and at first he’s upset and doesn’t want anything to do with you but after you have the baby ( a little boy with blonde curls like Billy) he gets all emotional and wants to desperately be a better father than his dad was to him 😭
Hello! Thank you so much <3 I absolutely will write fluff!
CW: Mentions of abortion, mentions of child abuse, lots of Billy being scared and a lil mean.
Billy's son is also referenced as having blonde curls and his nose, but the rest is ambiguous!
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He was scared.
Billy honestly didn't know what he was going to do. There had been many arguments with you about it, but you seemed fairly determined. You were going to have this baby, whether he wanted to be a part of the baby's life or not.
It wasn't necessarily that he didn't want to be involved, but he could feel a crushing fear spreading through him every time he thought about being a dad.
His relationship with his own dad was strained. Things weren’t the best between them. He never really had a positive father figure, someone that showed him how to stay calm even when he was frustrated. The last thing he wanted was to end up snapping at his own child.
He couldn’t be a dad.
“Not mine,” He said once you showed up with the ultrasound, the bloodwork and everything. Denial was all he could think about, all he could process. He couldn’t fuck up your life and this child’s life if he wasn’t involved. It was that simple, “I didn’t knock you up.” 
“Uh huh,” Was your dry answer, your eyes looking less than amused, “Do you want a paternity test then, William?” Came your snarky response, because you both knew the truth. This baby was his, there was no doubt in Billy’s mind about that. And it terrified him. 
“Don’t call me that.” He said as he pushed his hair off of his forehead, feeling sick as it continued to wash over him. He was going to be a dad. He was going to end up just like Neil. 
“Then don’t act like you weren’t a part of this.” You said, looking just as fearful as what he felt. He sat down on the edge of his bed, tapping his foot rapidly as he thought about how good a smoke sounded right now. He’d need a lot more to make him relax. 
“It’s still early, right?” He questioned at last, turning his attention back to you. He watched the way your eyebrows furrowed tightly together and then relaxed again. Your eyes softened, telling him what he already knew. 
“I’m not getting an abortion,” You said at last, “I’ve made up my mind. You can make your decision, but I’m not letting you walk in and out of our lives whenever you see fit. You can be a part of this baby's life or we can end this. Whatever you prefer.” You were gentle with him, setting out the options softly like you always did. You understood him better than anyone else, made him feel safe. It made him sick to think about how he was hurting the one person he really cared about. 
“Can I think about it?” He asked at last, feeling like there wasn’t anything else to do. He didn’t have an answer yet and he didn’t want to end up saying the wrong thing. He was growing angry at himself. He could only imagine what Neil would say once he found out. 
“Yeah,” You replied gently, eyes softening as you nodded your head, “But I can’t wait forever. I need to know your answer soon.” Your voice slightly wavered but he looked away, not wanting to see you so upset. 
“Yeah,” He responded as he nodded his head and placed his fingers tightly together, “I’ll let you know.” He said at last, staying put until you left. Everything was falling apart, breaking down around him. He couldn’t deal with it right now. 
Ignoring you was harder than he’d thought it would be. He looked for you everywhere he went, even though he knew he couldn’t have you. That was his own fault regardless. He’d made up his mind. It would be easier this way.
Yet, when the invitation for your baby shower arrived in his mail he felt his walls caving in. They crashed into him, making him break down as he stared at your handwritten notes on the card. He could tell just by reading it that you were excited, not afraid. He wished he could be more like you. 
In the end, he decided to go. He needed closure, as he was sure you needed to. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to stand living in the same town as you, knowing that his child would never know him. Somehow, that made him feel even worse.
He felt lonely as the months drew on. He had no one to confide in for his problems; especially Neil and Susan. He didn’t know what to say when they questioned about your disappearance and he felt even more at a loss when they asked him if you were pregnant. A shrug of his shoulders was his answer. He really didn’t know. 
The walk up towards the little gymnasium felt odd, like he didn’t quite belong as he stared at the little balloons and elephant decorations that were spotted throughout the room. There were familiar faces; your friends and family. Some other people that weren’t quite as well known. He still felt awkward, like everyone knew that he was the one who had knocked you up and ran. 
“Hey,” You drew out as you approached him, your palm flat against the bump in front of you, “I didn’t think you’d be here.” You said slowly, literally glowing as you stood in front of him. You had a sundress on, your cheeks were warm and forehead a little sweaty. He wondered if it was from the baby. 
“I didn’t think I’d come either.” He admitted at last, hating how horrible that sounded. He just felt like he was in a rut, buried deep inside of a hole with no real way of coming out. You were like sunshine through the dirt, warming his skin as he watched you. 
“What does this mean?” You asked him at last, tilting your head as your eyes softened over his features. He wished that he had a real answer for you, to tell you how he felt. He was in love with you; deeply. He just didn’t want to hurt you either. It was complicated. 
“I really don’t know yet,” He mumbled, “It just felt right.” He decided on, unable to tell you just how much he missed you. He was nearly desperate enough to fall to his knees and beg for your forgiveness. He would if you pushed him hard enough. 
“Billy,” You drew out in exasperation, “I can’t have you doing this, being so wishy-washy. What do you want?” You asked him seriously, looking like you were close to cracking too. He wanted to reach out and touch you, to hold you. He needed to apologize. 
“I just want to be better,” He replied slowly, “I want to be here. For you and for-,” He stalled for a moment as he looked down at your baby bump, feeling like he was at a loss once again. He wasn’t sure if you wanted him in his life or not. 
“Him,” You said quickly, “We’re having a little boy.” Your eyes were glazed over in tears, your lips pulling into the tightest smile. You were clearly emotional, making him feel awful as he reached his hand forward. Your fingers met slowly, molding against one another. He felt sparks traveling up his arms, leaving him resentful of the past few months he’d wasted. 
“That’s-, that’s good,” He answered after he cleared his throat. He was already scared to be a dad, but to have a son? He feared that even more. He was sure he was following directly into Neil’s shows, “Have you decided on a name?”
“I kind of like Cash,” You stated as you rubbed at your belly, “Just feels right. C’mon, you can open the presents with me.” You explained as you tugged him along, leaving him a little jittery. He thought about pulling out a cigarette, but figured it wasn’t the right place to do it.
He felt a little lost but slowly grew more and more keen on what was happening. It was still a lot to process, but it felt right being there by your side. You were clearly excited despite everything that had happened. He was grateful that you were so open, that you didn’t hold a grudge against him.
“Where are you living at?” He asked instead, curious as to whether your living situation had changed or not. You were still living at home the last time he checked. He was slightly nervous, wondering if someone else had slipped into his spot. 
“Still with my parents,” You admitted as you shrugged your shoulders, “They were upset, but they’ve come around.” Your lips were pulled into a smile, looking less than worried. Apparently things had been fairly well for you.
“They probably hate me.” He said a moment later, sure that it was true. He couldn’t see how they wouldn’t. He had practically left you. You snapped your eyes up towards him. 
“Hate is a strong word,” You told him quickly, “But yeah, they’re not the happiest. Especially dad.” You explained slowly as you continued to rub at your baby bump. 
“Great,” He mumbled as he placed his hands in his pockets, “I’m really sorry.” He breathed out slowly, knowing his apology was more important than everything else. He meant it too. He shouldn’t have pushed you away. 
“You just disappeared,” You started slowly, “I thought you were gone.” Your voice was soft, full of hurt and distress. He felt his throat tightening, burning as he thought about how much he missed you. He was a fool to ever stray away from you, to leave you on your own. 
“I thought about it,” He told you honestly, knowing there was no point in lying, “I don’t want to be like my dad.” He replied at last, getting down to the root of the issue. He didn’t want to accidentally lash out at you or at your future child. He never wanted that for him. It would be better to be alone. 
“You won’t,” You told him quickly, sternly as he exhaled deeply, “You’re not like your dad. I promise you.” You cupped his face softly, your hands smooth and gentle against his skin. He leaned against you, craving the feeling. 
“What if I lose control?” He asked at last as he drew his eyes over your features, taking in the way you were watching him. You sighed deeply as you rubbed your fingers across his skin. You looked deep in thought as you pressed your nails gently against his stubble. 
“You never did that at your swimming classes,” You reminded him, “You should come stay with me. Move in. It would be good for our baby.” You moved your hands to his neck, then to his shoulder and down to his hands. You gripped them slowly, pressing them against your growing tummy.
He stalled for the longest time, blinking slowly as he felt like the world was freezing around him. Underneath your skin he could feel your baby moving. He gulped, eyes wide as he felt the smallest smile curling against his lips. He exhaled deeply as he looked towards you again. 
“I don’t know.” He replied nervously as he felt his heart hammering roughly inside of his chest. He chewed on his bottom lip, thinking that it would be easier. He’d be closer for you, for the baby. If he was really going to do this, he needed to be near you. 
“You don’t have to marry me or anything,” You started, “Or be with me if that’s what you want.” You said sheepishly, looking embarrassed as you quickly looked away. He felt his heart shatter a bit again, worried that he had truly hurt you. 
“You have someone else?” He asked at last, worried that you had moved on. He had done wrong, but he really did love you. You were the only one he was passionate about. He wasn’t sure how to move on if you had found someone else. 
“No,” You responded with a smile, “But I just want you to be happy. Even if it’s not with us.” You nodded your head, but looked like that was hard to admit. He didn’t want you to be alone. Not anymore. 
“You make me happy,” He said at last, “We’ll work this out. I promise.” He said as he brought your hand up to his lips, savoring the feeling of your skin against his mouth. He closed his eyes, feeling very regretful. He wouldn’t lose you again. 
When he returned home he felt odd, but not like he had in the past few months. He didn’t drink away his feelings, or drown his anger out with music. Instead, he worked on packing. He wasn’t going to be like Neil; not at all. He was going to be there for you. He was going to be there for his son. No matter how scared he was. He couldn’t let either of you down. 
“Where are you going?” Neil’s voice made him jump, surprising him as he paused with the article of clothing in his hands. He turned slowly, looking at the way Neil was leaning against the door frame. He had his hands crossed tightly over his chest, his eyebrows furrowed together tightly. His features were stoic, like he was deciding whether he should be angry or not. 
“I’m moving out,” He said as he turned away, shoving the clothes back into his bag, “I uh, found a place.” Billy replied slowly as he finished zipping up his bag. He wondered how much he’d really be able to take with him. Probably not much if his dad got angry. 
“You moving in with that bitch?” Neil tilted his head up as he spoke, like he was trying to make himself taller. His eyes were sharp, cold as his gaze cut into Billy. He felt sick as he gulped harshly, trying to keep his tone at bay. 
“Don’t call her that.” Billy responded hotly, feeling defensive of you. You weren’t anything like that and you were letting him back into your life; just like that. You were everything and more to him and he wasn’t going to let Neil speak ill of you. 
“Is the kid yours or some little bastard?” His lip curled up in disgust as he spoke, his features filling with disappointment. Billy didn’t care. He was going to be happy with you. He wouldn’t be like Neil. Not ever. 
“Mine,” He said roughly, “And don’t you ever call him that.” He snatched up his bag, taking his few items with him as he moved forward. Neil scoffed as he shook his head, irritated as Billy pushed forward.
“She’s going to ruin your life,” He grumbled as he gripped Billy’s shoulder, holding him in place for a moment, “And don’t even think about crawling back. I won’t have you.” He said threateningly, like he might change Billy’s mind.
“I won’t come back.” Billy promised, stern with his answer as he walked past him. He wouldn’t let his son suffer the same way he had. They both deserved better than this. 
The rest of the months passed breezily, making him come to terms a little easier as your due date approached. He had done a lot of ass kissing, pleading and groveling until he got back on your good side. He brought you flowers every day, rubbed your feet after work and gave you plenty of kisses.
You complained about how you looked as the final weeks approached, but he thought that you looked beautiful. Stunning. In his opinion, you were glowing. He loved rubbing your tummy too, feeling like he got a deeper connection that way.
Your labor was messy, a little chaotic. Billy was terrified something would go wrong, but stayed close to you regardless. By the end of it, his hand was numb and his wrist aching from how tightly he’d been gripping you.
“Look at him,” You breathed out as you held the little boy in your arms, “He’s so cute.” You sniffled, looking like you were seconds away from breaking down again.
He stared and stared, memorizing his son's features as he came to terms that he was a father. He had a little boy, someone to take care of. He looked so fragile, so tiny. It made him nervous. He was fearful that he’d accidentally hurt him by holding him wrong, or by dropping him. He wasn’t sure how his rough hands were supposed to hold something so soft. 
"Billy," You breathed out quietly, making his throat grow raw as he stared down at the little boy. Soft blonde curls and the same sloped nose he had. Everything else about the little boy reminded him of you, "Are you crying?" You asked gently, making him feel even more emotional as he shook his head. 
“No,” He said hoarsely, doing everything in his power to keep from breaking down, “S’just a lot.” He mumbled as he wiped at his eyes, inhaling deeply through his nose as he tried to calm himself down. His hands were shaking, his heart thumping roughly inside of his chest. 
“I know,” You replied softly as you sat up a bit, gesturing the bundle in your arms towards him, “C’mon. You’ll feel better.” You reassured him, but he still felt hesitant. He pressed his fingertips together before he nodded, accepting the little baby from you.
Names hadn’t quite been figured out yet, but that didn’t matter at the moment. He looked healthy, his cheeks full and fists clenched together as he stretched his arms out. Billy felt a small chuckle leave his neck, fighting over the sob that was threatening to burst free.
He suddenly couldn’t remember why he had been so nervous, or scared. As his son curled against his arms it felt natural, like he already knew what he was doing. He savored the warmth, the way the little baby cooed as he adjusted him in his arms. Everything felt right suddenly.
“I won’t let anything bad ever happen to you,” He promised as he kissed his little head, sighing deeply as he snuggled his little son towards him, “Not ever. I promise.” 
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violetasteracademic · 22 hours
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Yesterday I came across a Gwynriel comment on a pro-Elriel post that said: “I like Azriel. Which is why I want him to find his mate.”
I’ve always found this Gwynriel/Elucien rhetoric ironic because they’re making it clear they don’t actually like Azriel. Because if they like Azriel, wouldn’t they want him to find LOVE, first and foremost? SJM has mentioned multiple times that a mating bond is not equivalent to romantic love, and yet Gwynriels, especially, only ever argue that they want Azriel to find his mate.
I’ve found that this is the biggest differentiator between Elriels and Gwynriels/Eluciens: Elriels want Az to find happiness. We want him to find LOVE—whether it’s through a mating bond or not. The emphasis is always on LOVE.
To be honest, it took me a really long time to think through this, because I have SO many things to say on the topic! But in the interest of keeping this concise (false when have I ever kept things concise), and addressing this issue head on, we are going to go ahead and say yes, sure, maybe SJM is a "fated mates only" author (even though some of my favorite SJM couples are not mates) and that has no bearing on whether or not Azriel and Elain are still likely to be endgame.
It comes down to active and inactive storylines, as well as facts from the books versus ideas and theories of what could be true.
Throughout her multiverse, Sarah has told the "Fated Mate" story in a variety of ways, and she continues to tackle it in new ways. We have had faked mating bonds, villainous cosmic interference with mating bonds, bonds that were revealed slowly, bonds that snapped quickly, bonds that solidified over oceans before two people even met, two people literally just *deciding* they are mates and making it so, and mating bonds where the pairs were miserable and not well suited, and they lived in misery until they died.
Prythian is the only world in the multiverse where there is even a conversation about the female being able to reject the mating bond. Those are the rules set forth in Prythian. You cannot ignore them. If Elain doesn't want Lucien, she gets to reject him. Them's the rules. This isn't even an *option* or mentioned on the other worlds. Prythian is the only one where, time and time again, we are reminded that there are many unhappily mated pairs. Rhysand's own parents were miserable. So miserable that Cassian thought the mating bond was all lies and bullshit for over 500 years, until Rhys and Feyre, for the first time in his centuries of life, proved him wrong. (ACOFAS, Chapter 2.)
Narratively, Prythian has set up and established a mating bond rejection. No other SJM world has. More than that, Feyre questioned why Lucien and Elain were paired together, and seeing Elain be placed with Lucien even though Feyre thought Elain and Azriel would be a better fit made Feyre realize how lucky she and Rhys were to be mated *and* in love. Directly comparing Elain and Lucien to Feyre and Rhys further proved how special Feysand was.
Then Azriel questions the Cauldron, asking if it could be wrong. (again, the second time this question has been asked in regards to Elain and Lucien specifically.)
Now, in HOFAS, the most up to date publication, that narrative continues as we discover the Asteri pooled their power into the Cauldron to make it serve their will. (HOFAS, Chapter 25) This answered Feyre's question; Who are the powers that decide to force people who don't like each other to be mated and create the most powerful offspring? (the Asteri, because they need to eat their souls for sustenance and gain control of the world) And of course Azriel is the one watching this all unfold and learning this information. Azriel questioning the Cauldron has now been laid out not only in ACOSF, but the last two books Sarah has published. These are the facts that will set up the next book, just as Feysand and Nessian were set up in previous books.
Feyre and Rhys were already tied together in book one. We knew, heading into book two, that Feyre and Rhys had connected. They trusted each other. And while their bargain was not consensual, she chose to go to him when he called through her bond of her own free will, because they had developed a connection. We head into book two knowing exactly where things were headed. She has an interesting/developing relationship with Rhys, and she is guaranteed to see him again. This sets up the "Ordinary World" (I've made a few posts on the hero's journey book structure SJM follows, more on that here) for book two. By the end of ACOTAR, Rhys and Feyre are in an active storyline together that picks up in ACOMAF.
Nesta and Cassian had their entire plot laid out in A Court of Frost and Starlight. Cassian is dealing with Devlon and the struggle to get Illyrian females training. He describes the Blood Rite, and muses on what the one from the upcoming spring will bring. Nesta is in her alcoholic I hate my family era, and Cassian is fighting to get back what occurred between them during the war. The kiss they shared, and the willingness to die together. And they are both fighting like wildfire. By the end of ACOFAS, these are active storylines. Everything discussed about or between them in ACOFAS picks up and comes to pass in ACOSF.
Whether you want them to be together or not, the active storyline in ACOSF and HOFAS is between Elain and Azriel. Questioning the Cauldron, fighting their feelings for each other, and the tension between them escalating was their story in ACOSF. People who argue the bonus chapter ended their story are factually incorrect. Because as of this day, in this year 2024, Azriel's "What if the Cauldron was wrong" storyline CONTINUED in House of Flame and Shadow.
Azriel stood there and learned first hand how the Cauldron had been corrupted and warped by creatures who came to Prythian in search of sustenance, and, as previously mentioned, "pooled their power into the Cauldron so that it would work their will." (HOFAS, Chapter 25) They then "protected their interests" by turning the Cauldron into a killswitch, ensuring it could never be destroyed and that their will could continued to be enacted on Prythian or the world would cease to exist.
So, these are the active storylines when Azriel and Elain wake up in Prythian today (thus setting up the Ordinary World in the three act structure) that expand upon the previous two books:
Elain and Azriel have feeling for each other.
Azriel's feelings for Elain are so strong that he questions the Cauldron, and is willing to fight to the death over it.
Azriel has learned that the Cauldron was completely corrupted and fucked up by an evil species that used to rule over Prythian, and now rules over Midgard, and eats souls by churning them through a "soul meat grinder for food." (HOFAS, Chapter 16)
Azriel has learned that all of the Dread Trove items were created by the Asteri in the Cauldron, the same beings that warped the Cauldron and turned it into a kill switch to ensure power over their world. (HOFAS, Chapter 24) Only the Archeron sisters can wield the Trove, and are protected from it being used against them.
Azriel learned that Truth-Teller and the Starsword were also made in the Cauldron by the Dusk Court ancestors to destroy the Asteri. Currently, only Azriel can wield both Truth-Teller and the Starsword. Elain can also wield Truth-Teller. (Possibly Nesta as well, but Elain used it to travel through shadows while Nesta used it to cut off a head.)
All Cauldron Made items, both for and against the Asteri, are now in possession of the Inner Circle along with the knowledge that they need to discover what they can truly do, and to find the hidden cache's of magic stored in their world.
Elain has stated that she is a member of the Night Court and will do what is needed to serve it.
Elain is reacquainting herself with her powers, and is ready to be used to locate and wield Trove items.
Elain has feelings for Azriel.
Azriel has feelings for Elain.
Here are inactive storylines:
Elain using her sight to deal with Koschei, which is what I understand to be the largest E/ucien theory at play tying Elain to the BoE. Elain has not been involved in the Koschei storyline since ACOWAR, nor does she have an active storyline with Lucien besides shrinking into herself when he is around, not speaking to him, and not liking his presents.
Lucien however, is involved in the Koschei storyline as of ACOSF as it pertains to Vassa. He stares at the sea, as if setting his target on Koschei, (ACOSF, Chapter 7) and is living with Vassa and Jurian. This is what is active for Lucien. Nothing else. Any possible storyline for him outside of this is theory and speculation does not exist yet.
Gwyn does not have an active storyline at the end of ACOSF. "Gwyn, despite the Rite, had returned to living in the library. Gwyn had said she might leave for Nesta and Cassian's mating ceremony in three days." (ACOSF, Chapter 80) Her story as a Valkyrie completing the Blood Rite with Nesta has resolved and she has not presently been tied to anything else. Any ideas on how she might have a plot created are theories and speculations, but she is inactive.
Elain and Azriel are both active regarding the Trove, the Star-Sword and Truth-Teller, their feelings for each other, and Azriel is personally so propelled forward in being the Cauldron's number one hater that if a mating bond were to suddenly snap between him and Gwyn in his current headspace, he would not just forget about Elain and the dark damage done to the Cauldron and would likely not entertain the bond without more information.
If Sarah wants to make Azriel and Elain fated mates, she will. She has done everything under the sun with mates and will do more. She can do whatever she wants with magic. But you have to understand that the next book will start, as Sarah always structures it, with the "ordinary world" picking up where the last books left off. And it left off with Azriel and Elain, the fight against the Cauldron, their feelings for each other, and the reveal that all Trove items as well as the Dusk Court and Starborn heir items are now in the Inner Circle's possession, to be wielded by the sisters and Azriel alone.
And yes, as mentioned by @enigmaticexplorer we want Azriel to find love. He already has found it with Elain. Now it's just a matter of if Sarah chooses to make them mates, or if they say to hell with mates because we chose each other. Either option is great in my book!
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whalesforhands · 2 days
Text
what’s yours is mine (4/?)
previous masterlist next
pairing: geto suguru x reader x gojo satoru
You don’t know a lot of things, and you readily admit that. What you do know, is that the friends you’ve made aren’t something you will ever regret. Until your physical body weakens and becomes nothing, you’re more than happy to give your all until you wither away.
What’s yours can be theirs, too. They’re your friends, after-all. (Omegaverse AU)
“What elementary?” That stare again. The one he unintentionally uses whenever he wants something, demands something. It’s heavy and uncomfortable, makes you want to beg him to not be upset at you, makes you want to apologise for your wrongdoings.
If you even had any, that is.
“Geh!” A hand slaps over those intimidating blue, palm all too eager to hide away those glimmering orbs as the sound snaps you out of your faraway thoughts.
That must hurt.
“Anyone ever taught ya how to not be demanding?” Suguru’s upset, his cheeks puffed up in anger and frowning at the friend that was sitting cross-legged upon the tatami mats and complaining about how much it hurt.
“It’s just a question!” And that was enough to turn the once intimidating gaze into one of narrowed sulk, drooping shoulders and falling backwards, making a point to let his body flop to the ground. “Hmph!”
Pouting. Gojo Satoru is pouting once more as your fluffy socks pad over to crouch near his head, fluffing up his fluffier white hair and patting at his soft cheeks to test the waters.
He lets you.
“I think Satoru’s mad.” It’s not so much so as a thought, but a way to signal to Suguru that there was going to be an onslaught of whining if something wasn’t done soon.
“Hmph!”
“Y’er not very cute now, Satoru.” Geto Suguru, at the age of 5, had learned just how much the rich kid has been spoiled; by both you and the people around him.
“Satoru is cute.” It’s what you say to him as you pushed your new black-haired friend on the swing-set, with the creak of metal and the kick-up of snow by his boots. “And he’s really honest.”
“So I like hanging around him.”
“Am I cute?” It’s a question that has got him parroting his own version back at you, a wonder that prompts him to prod at your mind.
“No,” He can feel your palms lightly pressing against his shoulders, fingers grazing against the soft fabric of his sweater as your voice is muffled by the scarf he had given to you on this cold day when you sneezed one too many times. “You’re pretty, Suguru.”
And that has the little boy thinking about what to say next. He’s never heard any of the kids at his old neighbourhood say that before, yet he knows you’re not the type to lie. Is there a purpose to your words? A lying undertone that he couldn’t see through?
He doesn’t know how to reply, so he settles on a truth that at the very least, is true to him.
“You’re prettier.”
“Hmph!” Yet again, Suguru has been snubbed despite his attempt to liven up his pouting friend. Insulting his adorableness won't work either, it seems.
You poke at his cheek as he continues to glower and gloom, his petulant expression never faltering even as you squish the chub of his face.
He’s very soft.
“Suguru said he was sorry.” He didn’t exactly say it outright, but you offer it as a way to dissuade Satoru from his irritation anyway, still nudging at his cheek as snowy eyelashes flutter open momentarily, before snapping close upon meeting your sad frown.
“Hmph!”
A losing battle.
“I’m… Sorry too?” It’s all you can hope that it works. If an apology from you is even something he wants, anyway.
“Whaddya even apologizing for, dummy?” It’s a mumbled grunt, barely missed if it wasn’t for your odd patience when it came to listening to him.
Why? Because he’s mad and he’s in your house. So technically you played a part in this, in managing to make your cherished friend lay on the lightly tattered tatami mats of your bedroom floor and pouting like nobody’s business. That’s why.
“Let’s feed him.” Suguru offers, squatting down on the boy’s other side and mimicking your action of prodding at his cheek, all whilst staring down at the boy who had lost his will to play. “He’s weak to stuffing his face.”
That’s too good of an idea to pass up on.
“I want biscuits and the cake Kimi-chan brought!”
Now you’ve realized the ulterior motive behind your ‘cute’ Satoru’s tantrum. How sneaky of him.
So when your head peers into the fridge, tiptoeing upon your little stool to really survey the field of cool air and white chill, you have to face the biggest conundrum you have met in your so far, 5 years of living.
“We’re out of snacks.”
“What?!” A startled pop-up of spiky white smacks into flowing black as his eyes narrow and his lips curl into a pout. “Already?!”
“Mhm.” You take one last look just in case. “I think we ate everything Mama made—“ Your eyes fall onto the plastic cake knife that still sat on one of the fridge shelves, abandoned in favour of spoons. “And finished all the cake.”
Evidenced by the crumbs on your floor and the 3 spoons stained with leftover frosting lying on the ground.
“No wayyyy! We have to watch Digimon with no snacks…!” A true conundrum as he holds his head and falls to the ground without the grace he was taught to embrace.
“I like Pokemon better.”
“Me too.”
He chooses to pretend not to hear it. Nobody would ever be able to convince him to pick that over his beloved Digimon.
“And we ate everything at Suguru’s house yesterday…!” A sound of defeat as he curls his knees up towards his chest, bottom lip stuck out and eyes staring at the ground in disappointment.
Truly the biggest challenge you 3 have had to face together. The second being what to watch on television.
(Personally, the astrology channel that plays every morning at 9 is a particular favourite of yours.)
“It’s fine, isn’t it?” Suguru’s licking his fingers clean of the remnant cream, his brows furrowing at the now lukewarm sweetness. “We can just go to your house for more.”
Satoru’s… House? Come to think of it, even you have never been there. Mama doesn’t allow that. She says that you’re too young, that you can when you’re a bit older, when you know Satoru a little bit better.
(But you know him plenty now, right? Even made a new friend along the way since you last time you asked her.)
“My house?” A proud click of his tongue and a smirk on his face as his head finally perks up for the first time from his whining. “Then ya gotta pay a toll of 50 strawberry cakes.”
“My mama would call you a scammer.” Suguru’s deadpan reply.
50… If Mama can make only 2 cakes a day… And if you helped her, would you even be able to meet Satoru’s demand? Is it even humanly possible? You think you heard the pretty lady on television talk about this expert baker who— You can feel someone waving their hand in front of your face to try to steer your mind back into the real world.
“But Satoru, aren’t you on a sweets ban?” It’s a sudden realization as you phase back into reality, nodding at Suguru now that he managed to successfully get you back. There’s a vague memory of him grumbling about it the very first time you met, the sway of blue firefly sleeves and the glow of his enchanting eyes.
“You’ve been letting him eat sweets when he’s not allowed to?” Suguru looks largely disapproving, a cocked brow and tilted head, as he watches the way your eyes are still glazed over and faraway from this conversation.
“I-It’s only temporary!” It’s a spluttered way of defending himself as his fists lightly punch at Suguru’s shoulder. “The old hag said I could have more af-after I—“
“But if you have guests over, wouldn’t they allow snacks?” It’s another offhand thought you had, not truly tuning into the chatter of your friends as a thoughtful finger is place on your lip, and you’re settling yourself down on the floor with them.
Silence.
You have to blink at them. Did you say something wrong? Mama always stocked snacks in case of a guest, and partially for yourself; so it just came naturally to you. Was it not a good idea after-all…?
——
So the first time you’re at Satoru’s house, you spend a good amount of time wondering why he needed such a big, scary looking metal gate as the unfamiliar man who drove the both of you here talks to the tiny speakerphone.
(It actually wasn’t that hard for Geto-mama to help convince your Mama to let you come. Cause it’s safer when Suguru is around too, right? You think that’s why you were allowed.)
“How many toilets do you think he has?” A genuine question as you gape at the sheer length of the seemingly never-ending fences. With a minka house that size, there’s bound to be more needed… But what do you need so many bathrooms for, anyway?
“Pfft,” A snort beside you and a squeeze of your hand. “Bet he uses one for showering, one for taking a dump and one for wiping.”
Suguru might be right, actually. What else would having that many bathrooms do?
“(name)-sama, Suguru-sama,” The intercom flashes with the image of an unfamiliar man as the metal gates start to open, automatic and creaking and honestly quite daunting as they part to reveal a well-dressed man in shiny shoes. “The Gojo estate welcomes you.”
He’s tall. Very tall. Almost as if he spanned at least a hundred feet up as he takes a bow, his head kept down and his face neutral.
“Young Master Gojo has been expecting the both of you.”
Takahashi-san; that was his name. The dignified Takahashi-san who didn’t smile, who didn’t allow his facial features to twitch even an inch out of place. Stone-faced Takahashi-san who was tall and moved with such quiet, purposeful steps, yet adjusted the stretch of his legs to allow you both to keep up with him as he lead you both around the engawa.
He reminds you of a really tall, really kind rock. If rocks could be kind, anyway.
“He looks fancy.” It’s your quiet whisper to no one in particular as you squeeze Suguru’s palm. It’s a wonder, honestly. Takahashi-san looks really out of place with the black and white suit, compared the varying browns and whites of the infrastructure and the greens of the estate’s seemingly endless garden.
And you think that it’s kind of intimidating.
“Do you think Satoru would wear that too?” Suguru humours you, a chuckle and swinging your intertwined hands together as he ensures his fingers are looped through yours.
You giggle, at ease now that you realize you’re not alone. Mama was right. “Maybe he has one of those gigantic closets like in—“
“We have arrived at the Young Master’s room.” A gloved hand fancily motions towards the fancier wooden lattice doors— Satoru had a really nice house. “Please do not hesitate to call for me if anything is needed.”
Even the wooden floorboards of the veranda don’t creak at all when you walk on them, the traditional tatami of Satoru’s room replaced with a soft Digimon carpet— It honestly blows your mind at just how clean his home was, completely juxtaposing how sloppy your usual Satoru could be.
“Surprise attack!” And you see a flash of blue and white before you’re both tackled to the ground, just barely missing landing front-first on those shiny wooden floorboards you admire so much as you resign to fate on the extreme softness of the carpet you did end up on.
Amazing.
“You’re finally here!” He’s settling his weight on the both of you, holding you both down so that he can reign supreme from above, a catlike mischief on his face when he realises his plan was a success.
“Let’s play! Let’s play!” Because he claims that treats taste better when you’re tired. “Oh, my house is wayyyyy bigger, so let’s do hide and seek!”
“That’s—“ You have to swallow a grunt of pain from the feel of his knee digging into your side as you whimper. “Great…”
“Get off, you heavy snowman!”
——
You don’t know this lady either. Which, honestly, figures. You don’t exactly live here.
“You’re not meant to be here—“ Her words start off snappy, quick. As if it were reprimanding tone that commanded dominance; before devolving into a tone of confusion and softer frustration. “Child…?”
She clears her throat, the ornaments in her hair twinkling a jingle that makes you want to stare agape.
“State your purpose.”
If it wasn’t for the almost scary tone she donned.
“Satoru’s trying to hunt me down.” You say it like it was the most obvious thing ever in response, almost as if you were reporting back from a mission. “So I’m tryna find a good hiding spot.”
You can’t see her face clearly, or see her at all with how the shoji doors hid her from your view. But her room was brightly lit, casting her standing silhouette onto the fabric screens of the sliding doors—
It should be impossible for a shadow to look so elegant.
“You must be his…” She lets herself trail off, as if the word was never on the tip of her tongue, far too unfamiliar and foreign on her lips. “Friend.”
She clears her throat once more as the shadow produces a fan from her draping kimono sleeve.
“Tell me, child,” You can see the sway of her clothes, her silhouette moving with poised grace and practiced elegance that made you await with bated breath for her every move.
It’s mesmerizing to just watch her.
You remember to breathe when you hear her falter, picking up on the shaky inhale in and the slight stutter of the paper fan that failed to match her once rhythmic pace. “How is… Satoru doing?”
You blink once, twice. Can see the dance of her sleeves as the fan waves and the jingle of the beads upon the ornate kanzashi tune into your ears. That’s a confusing question for you. A weird one, even.
She lives here, doesn’t she? Why doesn’t she just ask him herself? Plus, you’re not Satoru.
“I think you have to ask him that yourself.”
The fanning stops abruptly, and your head perks up at what you think is a muffled choke, watching as you see her silhouette start to tremble, before a quiet laugh bursts out. It’s elegant, refined— Yet so uncontrolled and lacking in all the proper was she once held.
Yet it didn’t detriment her overwhelming aura at all.
“Hahaha! I should, shouldn’t I?” The fan snaps close, angry, frustrated— Yet soft and repentant. “You’re a smart one, child.” Her voice is tender, almost pitiful in their tone.
“He will be fine with someone like you around.”
(What does that even mean?)
“Thanks.” You think the conversation is over, think you should leave when you notice she’s gone quiet, can see the silhouette of her shoulders slumping with a palm pressed to her forehead.
You can’t seem to smell anything.
She must be going through something, so you best leave her to it. Mama always told you to never involve yourself too much with strangers.
“Take care of yourself.” It’s all you can offer to the now solemn stranger.
A desolate chuckle, and the fluttering open of the paper fan once more as she seemingly regains her bearings.
“You too, child.”
Yet, she itches at your brain even long after you’ve been unceremoniously caught and dragged by the hand back to Satoru’s room the moment you’ve been found. You can’t ask that directly— Who even asks about a random lady they came across in someone’s house? So your brain goes for the next best thing.
“What’s your family like, Satoru?”
A genuine curiosity— It’s fine if it’s strange. You don’t have the most normal one either… Do you? You don’t really know.
You think your Mama loved your father, at least for one day. At the very least. She doesn’t love him like she loves you.
(That’s what she tells you, anyway.)
So you find yourself parroting that question again when they look at you as if you had something loose in your brain.
“What?” Satoru looks… Appalled. All furrowed brows and jutted out lip, scrunched up nose and tilted head. “What does mochi gotta do with any of that?”
You only blink back at him as Suguru plops a mochi into your open palm. “I just… Felt like it.”
A scrutinizing gaze from him as Suguru watches you both.
“All I know is that my Papa married just ‘cause my Mama was a hair or somethin’.” You see him stuff another mouthful of mochi into his mouth. “And cwause she’s—“ A swallow as he pats off the sugary dust on his lips. “An Alpha.”
Not for love. Definitely not.
(And why would anybody want to marry a hair?)
“Mmm…” Your brain feels like it was starting to steam from overwork. None of this makes any sense at all. “I don’t get it.”
Your honest proclamation.
“I say you don’t think too hard about this kinda thing.” Suguru’s patting your arm as he licks cream off of the corner of his lip. “Satoru doesn’t make any sense half the time, anyway.”
“Hey! Yes I do!” A harrumph and crossed arms as he sticks his nose into the air in contempt. “I know that my family only meets with other Alphas so that everyone stays Alpha, ya know?” He swipes sugar off of his cheek as Suguru grimaces, still speaking with his mouth full as he tries to make his point. “So I’m gonna be an Alpha too!”
No idea what that means. Though, Satoru had always been the type to tell you about things you never really understood quite yet. So you can only offer a pat on his back when he starts to choke on the sticky snack, hurriedly downing his milk as you choose not to dwell on it.
It’s not important to you now, anyway.
“Okay,” You smile as your eyes flicker from the mochi still in your hand up to the remaining 5 left on the serving plate. “Can Suguru and I finish the whole plate?”
“Wha— No! I want more too!”
——
And you go through those cycle of seasons once more, and in a blink of an eye— Elementary had begun.
“I can’t believe they don’t let you grow your hair out, Suguru…” Your voice is teetering on a soft cry, your arms hugging around his neck and resting on the backpack behind him as you press against the crook of his neck.
It’s a bit of an awkward hug, with how broad and stiff the bags were— They got in the way.
“Well… My mama said that’s just how public schools are.” He’s patting at your back, trying to soothe you now since there weren’t any other kids around—
The perks that come with coming early so that Mama could get to work on time.
It was hard, feigning confidence and bravery in front of your her when the sun had barely started to rise. Smiling at her even past those school gates you were too nervous to pass, waving her goodbye as you try not to show that you wanted to cry— You didn’t think you would make it through if you didn’t run into your beloved friend halfway through.
His hair is… Shorter now. Ear-length at best and not at all as flowy and silky and pretty as it once was when it was longer.
It felt freeing; the relief of knowing that he was assigned to be in the same class as you were, to know that you won’t be separated even when you’re in school with at least one of your dear friends.
Your only friends, so far. So you cling on, harder and needier— Enough for you to fulfill Satoru’s daily touch quota even if he wasn’t here with the both of you… And to sate your own selfish need for Suguru.
It’s strange, really. Since when did you crave touching them so much? Even through warm summers when the heat got unbearable, you remember laying with them on the floor to mope and complain about the humidity, hands intertwined together despite the sweat and uncomfortable, sticky feeling.
Even through colder falls where you 3 end up huddled together under Suguru’s blanket to read the newest issue of a manga, a small fight ensuing between all of you to decide who gets to hold the pages open— Due to the different reading capabilities; until the responsibility falls on you when the boys inevitably almost tear the pages apart.
(Manga is a treasure you need to be gentle with!)
So you’re used to their touch. Used to feeling their warmth so much that you don’t even want to pull away even when you hear the telltale sliding open of the classroom door, a running start-up that you both missed as the hug continues—
Before 2 becomes 3 upon the polished, and definitely less fancier wooden floors of your classroom.
“Guess who!”
And there was chatter. A lot of it. Whispers under stiff breaths, blushes on red cheeks and eyes that kept sticking to him as he simply… Sat next to you, his finger poking at the bandaid upon your cheek from his tackle as you paste another one onto Suguru’s arm.
“That’s him, right?”
“Look at his eyes, that’s gotta be that kid…”
“My daddy said that his family’s got bad people connections.”
“No way…!”
“Did you hear? My momma told me that—“
Yet, he ignores everything, everyone else around him as his eyes lock themselves with yours, his arm wound around yours as he tugs you closer.
“Aren’t ya happy to see me?” A V-sign and a bright grin as he nudges your shoulder, so you make a decision as you meet knowing purple that signaled the same thought.
If he doesn’t acknowledge it, you wouldn’t either. An unsaid promise that will hold strong.
“Yea.”
("How did you even manage to find out? We didn't even tell ya." Suguru leans onto the desk, looking past the you who was sat between them and at the all too proud boy.
"I got Kimi-chan to investigate!"
"Stalker."
"Mn."
"Hey!")
So when lunch rolls about and Satoru is staring down at the last thing on his tray; a bowl of seaweed and tofu-laden miso soup and poking at the floating cubes of white… He starts complaining.
“Cheap stuff doesn’t taste so bad.” Though, you think the ¥250 your Mama pays per day for this to be a lot. That’s at least 5 stickers from the candy shop.
“Well sorry it’s cheap, mister rich kid?” Suguru’s not gonna budge, tone sarcastic and his eyes closing as he finishes off the rest of his rice as he lets the rich boy steal another gulp of his strawberry milk.
Not even bothering to touch his tofu.
But you understand, noticing that he didn’t like bland food. Things that were neither sweet, salty nor sour. Tastes that didn’t amount or replicate anything— He didn’t like things that tasted like nothing.
So when he’s wiping his mouth of a milk moustache, he’s back to scooping tofu up and dumping it back in his bowl. Again and again, staring at it before… His gaze turns towards you. A glance at his spoon, and back— A repeat of his actions once more and—
A knowing grin.
“Say aaaah!”
“Aaaaaaahm.”
“Don’t make her eat your food for you, Satoru.” A scolding sigh when Suguru’s chopsticks pick up the cucumber that you absolutely did not want to touch.
“Hypocrite! Y’er eating the cucumbers for her!”
——
School is fun, even if it’s only the 3 of you. Even if you don’t have other friends to talk to.
“My dad’s an Alpha!” Tachibana… Something was his name. You don’t exactly remember it. A loud boy. You think you’ve heard the teacher muttering something about rambutans before.
“Ehhh? That’s so cool!”
“My mama told me that my cousin’s elder sister is an Alpha!”
“You guys have Alphas? Lucky…”
Yet they only approach, hover around your table like flies the moment only Satoru is gone, scrutinizing both you and Suguru as you try to read together.
“Hey, (last name)!” A slam of a grimy hand onto your table. “What’re your parents?”
You blink up at him, his face all smug and abhorrent— Prideful and spurning your discomfort.
“I don’t know.” Your voice is small, quiet. Like you didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to respond. Yet it tries to be firm. You can’t be strong all the time, but Mama told you that acting like you are will always work in your favour. He’s not intimidating per se— Simply uncomfortable to talk to. You’re sure nobody would like it when people get into their faces like this.
And it’s all too soon that Suguru drops his elbow onto said boy’s hand, smile ever so polite and put together despite the twitch of his knitted brows—
His sign of anger.
The victim didn’t even have enough time to scream, face turning white as a sheet when he starts to hear literal cracks, eyes forced wide open and fear evident when—
No words are needed. Not when Gojo Satoru is the one that slides open the door, huddling various flavours of sweet bread in his hands as his face stays blank.
It makes anyone back off immediately, kids gasping as they run back to their seats and avoid him like the plague as chairs screech against the floor in their hurry to act as if they weren’t near his territory.
You won’t question it.
So when you’re walking back, it hits you that it’s something that you never thought about before, never cared enough about. It’s for the sake of knowledge, for the purpose of knowing.
(“Is she even paying attention ‘nymore?” Small hands clap in front of your face as Suguru practically has to drag you back before you inevitably try to cross the street at a green light.
“Not at all.”)
“Mama.” You’re staring at her as she reads through a newspaper, another crinkle of thin paper, and clicking of a pen with a flicker of her eyes towards yours as she hums in acknowledgment.
“Which one are you?” Your finger gently lands upon the dark print, pointing towards the headline once you recognize the word.
‘Betas in demand! Employers looking to seek stable—‘
She pauses. “Where… Did you hear about this?” A valid question. You’ve never really cared about it till now despite all the news channels she’s watched with you’ve and all the newspapers you’ve helped her pick up from the front door… It didn’t make any sense for you to suddenly inquire about this.
“Tachibana-san was telling everyone how his Papa was an alpha.” You look back down towards the word. “And everyone in class started talking about that kind of thing too.”
Not a lie. At least, not a complete one.
“…I see.” She drawls off into silence, letting it hang over your heads with only your loud wonderment to fill the room.
You watch as she clears her throat, fiddling with the collar of her shirt and a hand briefly rubbing at the side of her neck.
You know what that means. Mama is nervous.
“Mama is…” You hear her pen click close. “An omega.” Her fingers start to trace the scarred over bite, her eyes meeting yours momentarily before going back to the newspaper.
Oh. Cool. But…
“Is that good?” A tilt of your head and a blink up at your pretty Mama as she blinks back at you. You feel her hand on your head, a brief rustle of your hair just as her pen clicks open.
“Alphas are usually at the top of the ladder.” A circle is drawn around the first symbol as she takes a breath in. “They are… Strong-minded people. You’ll see many people talk about them.”
“Like Tachibana-san?”
“Mhm.”
You blink up at her in silence as your hands settle down on your lap. That’s great and all, but you still don’t really get it.
Mama looks to the side, fingers drumming against the table before a solution prods her mind. “Suguru’s mama is an Alpha.”
Ohhhhh. She’s nice. Alphas are nice. You kind of get it.
“Betas are in the middle.” She taps against the the second symbol to continue, the head of her pen clicking open and close with an unsteady rhythm. “You’ll see a lot of them around.” You can see the way her hands are starting to tremble a little more, before she folds her hands over each other, a strained smile on her face.
“Kimiko-san is a Beta.” You didn’t know that either. She’s nice too. Betas are nice people too.
“And Omegas…” The one that your Mama said she was, right? You’ve been waiting for her to talk about herself, memorized that last symbol to a T. Kind of excited about this, maybe a little too much as you feel your toes clench and your eyes glimmer… Though you don’t really get why she chose to do her own last.
(Because your Mama should always be number 1!)
Yet it all comes to a halt the moment you smell something sour, helplessly watching in unsteady silence as she starts to rub at the skin upon her neck a little more roughly, pinching and pulling and digging her nails into her own flesh as she keeps her gaze stuck onto the newspaper below her.
You can sense how the air feels tenser, thicker. It felt like a stubborn lump in your throat, felt like it was going to crawl up your spine and envelop you whole as you watched her chew on her bottom lip.
“Mama…?”
A deep breath in, a fervent scratching against the marred side of her neck. You can see her trembling, see your Mama’s hand practically turn white with how hard she was gripping the pen. Is she—
“People say that they’re better off not existing.”
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maivolpe · 2 days
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I'm giggling rn what if reader and bucky go on a mission and reader gets shot while trying to protect bucky but the bullet was actually a 🌟 special 🌟 bullet and bucky has to take care of reader until they feel better (LIKE A BARBED WIRE BULLET omg and they keep bleeding through their bandage and finally find out what bullet it was GASP.)
fun fact: this would probably technically be a war crime! so sorry for how late this is, i appreciate your patience and thank you for requesting ♡
・。゚: ∘◦☾◦∘。゚.
pairing: bucky barnes x reader cw: cursing, gunshot, blood wc: 918
“bucky?”
he didn’t respond. he was focused on something sam had said, face frozen in a smile, oblivious to the shadow at the window, the glint of metal in the sunlight.
but you could reach him. you dropped your glass, crossing the kitchen in three steps, planting your hands on his chest. you pushed him, both of you tumbling towards the floor, and then…
“hey, hey, hey…” bucky’s voice floated across the blankness, calm and measured. “don’t move…”
why did he say that? you weren’t moving.
“…didn’t hit anything important, you’re okay…”
what didn’t hit anything important?
“…muscle and fat, jus’ muscle and fat…”
and suddenly it occurred to you what he was talking about.
everything came rushing back, your train of thought screeching back into the station, and you gasped, face pressed against the cold tile of the kitchen floor. pain struck up your leg like lightning, and you cried out, bolting upright.
“easy, now, sweetheart,” he grunted, laying his vibranium arm across your chest while he pressed a cloth to your leg with his other. “can’t have you moving right now.”
fuck, it hurt. you’d been shot before, but this time it was different somehow. it burned with a fierce intensity, ravaging your leg. you felt like you might explode at any second.
“sor- i- i-“ you stammered.
“hey, don’t forget to breathe, doll.”
you bit down another cry, forcing air out through your nose.
“good, that’s good… sam?”
you caught a glimpse of him ripping off a section of his shirt for a tourniquet. somewhere in the back of your mind, you felt sad. you’d liked that shirt. it was a shame he’d have to use it on you.
“buck, it- fuck…”
you really felt it now, warm and sticky blood seeping through the cloth, flowing down your leg. the pain seemed to deepen, spreading up through your calf to the rest of your body, and you gritted your teeth to halt a pained scream.
“sam?”
bucky glanced down at your fear-stricken face with a mix of guilt and shame, but quickly offered you a tight-lipped smile. “nothin’ we haven’t done before, huh sweetheart?”
“feels different,” you groaned. “w-worse.”
he swore, propping your leg up onto his knee. you hissed at the movement, but held as still as you could while he pulled the strip of cloth up to your thigh.
a door slammed somewhere behind you and sam finally drifted into your swimming vision, breathing heavily. “i got him.”
“great,” bucky grunted, pulling the knot tight with his fingers. “help me out, will ya? i think it’s a dum-dum.”
then sam swore, and you knew to be worried. “give me that.”
bucky hovered back over you, lifting your chin with his hand. he thumbed at your cheek, and you leaned into the contact. “eyes on me, doll. sammy’s jus’ gonna tighten that up for you.”
you nodded, but it felt detached, as if you were slowly floating away from your body. his bright blue eyes were getting harder and harder to focus on, your body begging for the respite of unconsciousness.
“she’s going,” you heard bucky say, and you let the darkness take you.
when you next awoke, the pain had faded to a dull throb, and you were decidedly not dead. it was a good start.
you were in bed. not your bed, though. the gentle crackle of a record player sounded somewhere in the corner— bucky’s bedroom, then. sunlight was just beginning to stream through the blinds.
the super-soldier was curled up in an armchair next to your bed, head cupped in his palm. his hair, loose and unkempt, dangled in front of his face. he must have nodded off at some point during the night— that was rare, but then again, you were sure it had been a long one.
“what’s a dum-dum?” you croaked.
bucky startled awake, instinctively checking over your bandaged leg before meeting your eyes. his gruff expression melted into one more sympathetic, and he reached out to squeeze your hand.
“hey there, trooper.”
“hey. what’s a dum-dum?”
he chuckled at your persistence. “dum-dum bullets are expanding projectiles. they’re used to enlarge wounds and increase impact shock.”
your eyes widened, and you pushed yourself up on your elbows, straining to catch a glimpse at your calf.
“we got you fixed up,” he said quickly. “don’t worry.”
“thanks, buck,” you murmured, sinking back into the cushions.
he didn’t respond, and you blinked up at him. he had paled, the grave expression you were so used to seeing returning to his face.
“you shouldn’t have done that,” he mumbled, voice gravelly.
“you were gonna get shot,” you said. “i did what anyone would’ve done.”
bucky shook his head. “you should’ve let it happen.”
“i don’t think it’s fair,” you argued. “just because you’re strong doesn’t mean you should have to take it all the time.”
“i can take it,” he corrected. “i am guaranteed to come out on the other side. you’re not.”
“that’s so stupid,” you sniffed.
“i know,” he said, smiling sadly. “but if it means keeping you safe, i’d take it every single time.”
you sighed, beckoning at him. “get in.”
he gingerly climbed over you, careful to avoid jostling your leg. you threw the comforter over him, and once he was settled, pressed your forehead to his.
“you owe me, barnes.”
he chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “my knight in shining armor.”
you know he’s teasing you, but you don’t care. “of course, princess.”
・。゚: ∘◦☾◦∘。゚.
ko-fi ♡
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bri-cheeses · 1 day
Text
| May 17th | Prompt: Infuriate | Word Count: 946 | I really think I need to reevaluate what the word “micro” means but oh well | @rosekillermicrofic |
-
“Evan,” Barty said in one big rush, crashing through the door to their dorm, “if you had to rate my kissing skills on a scale of one to ten, what would you give me?”
Evan paused in the middle of closing the bathroom door behind him. His hand still hung on the doorknob as he stared at Barty.
“What?” he said. His hand slid off the doorknob and came to rest awkwardly at his side.
“What would you rate my kissing skills?” It was clear from Barty’s tone that he was very insistent on getting an answer from Evan.
Evan sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to get out of this.
“I don’t know.” He groaned and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’ve never kissed you before, so I can’t really judge.”
Barty’s face fell, corners of his mouth turning down. Evan hurried to finish his thought. “That being said, other people seem to like kissing you well enough—” maybe too well, he thought bitterly— “so I’d give you… an eight, maybe?”
Barty looked taken aback.
“An eight?” he said incredulously. “And what would you rate yourself?”
“Merlin, Bee, I don’t know,” Evan groaned again. “Something like… an eight and a half?”
“Oh, no. That won’t do. That won’t do at all,” Barty responded. “I’m at least a nine, and I’m not saying you’re bad at kissing, but there’s no way I’m not better than you.”
“How would you know?” countered Evan. “You’ve never experienced one of my kisses.”
And oh, what was he doing? There wasn’t anything but pain waiting for him at the end of this road. He knew that. And yet… he was curious about what Barty’s reaction might be.
Evan looked closely at Barty as he took several steps forward, squinting at Evan. Barty’s eyes traveled down, then back up again, and goodness, had he just checked Evan out?
“That won’t do at all,” Barty repeated. “I really need to prove that I’m the better kisser.
Evan scoffed to distract himself from the pounding of his heart.
“You are not the better kisser,” he said.
“Oh, but I am.” Barty’s smirk caused Evan’s brain to temporarily short-circuit, making it difficult for him to even think about backing up as Barty stepped closer.
“I think,” Barty began, reaching out a hand. Evan followed his gaze downward as Barty began to fiddle with the edge of Evan’s shirt, then continued, “that we should hold a contest, of sorts. Just to see who’s better, of course.”
“Of course,” Evan echoed, still distracted by Barty’s fingers playing with his shirt. He sucked in a breath as Barty’s hand grazed his skin.
Barty looked up at Evan’s face with a mischievous spark in his eyes. Their faces were now barely a hairbreadth apart, and Evan could feel Barty’s breath on his skin as he whispered, “I think you’ll find that I’m much better than a mere nine.”
Evan couldn’t stop himself from blurting, “You gonna do anything to prove it?”
Look—Evan had been waiting for this moment for years, and he wasn’t all too keen on waiting any longer.
“Maybe I will,” Barty said, and slid his hand around to Evan’s back, hand underneath Evan’s shirt as he pulled him in sharply. Evan’s breath hitched, and Barty grinned wolfishly.
A rush of heat spiked in Evan’s chest.
“You, Barty Crouch Jr,” Evan breathed, “infuriate me.”
“Mmm,” murmured Barty, leaning in closer, “is that so?”
“Yes,” Evan stated somewhat distractedly. It would be so easy to tangle his hand in Barty’s hair and pull him down for a kiss.
So that’s exactly what Evan did.
The kiss was messy, both of them trying to prove a point, but it was perfect. Barty’s hands were everywhere—on his waist, gliding across his back, brushing against his cheek. It sent shivers through Evan, and he fisted his other hand in Barty’s shirt. Honestly, he didn’t think he would ever be able to let go.
“Tell me I’m right,” Barty whispered against his lips, and Evan thought that he might just do anything Barty asked if he only kept on kissing him like that.
“You’re right,” Evan gasped. “Definitely higher than a nine.”
He could feel Barty’s answering smirk against his mouth.
“Thought so,” Barty said smugly, then kissed him again. And again.
And again.
“Wait,” Evan gasped some time later, a thought having occurred to him. “I thought this was just to see who the better kisser was?”
He regretted having to stop kissing Barty, but it was a necessary question. He needed to know the answer before he did something he really regretted—such as confessing his stupid crush, for example.
Evan braced himself for the worst, to have his heart torn to shreds and stomped on like so many times before. But Barty just smirked, then said, “I just wanted an excuse to kiss you. It was never about who the better kisser was. Although, I must say that you happen to be somewhere in the nines yourself.”
He grinned again and started to lean back in, but Evan’s mind was reeling.
“Wait,” he said, and Barty immediately froze. “You wanted to kiss me?”
Barty blinked. “Well… yes? I’ve wanted to for a while now, if I’m being totally honest. Why? Is that not okay?”
Evan shook his head vehemently. “No, no, it’s definitely okay. More than okay, really,” he confessed.
Barty smiled in that lovely way of his, where his eyes crinkled around the corners and his face seemed alight with joy.
“Good,” he said, “I had hoped so.”
Then he leaned in for another kiss, and this time, Evan was more than happy to oblige.
-
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avonne-writes · 3 days
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The first time it happens, he talks about it with Gale afterwards and Gale feels really embarrassed, but Bucky reassures him that it's not embarrassing at all.
🥹🥹🥹
Re: this post about Bucky being enamored by Gale laughing from pleasure in subspace. This drabble is right after the first time this happened. My subspace Gale fic: The Art of Letting Go
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Bucky watches Gale's eyes, but they don’t meet his. They're half-closed, with only a sliver of blue skies peeking out from under the shadow of his eyelashes. They’ve been like that since their afterglow started fading into comfortable exhaustion. He's close enough that Bucky feels the heat of his flushed face. The bow of Gale's lips is still cradling a hint of a smile. Under the blanket he draped over their waists, sweat builds slippery friction between their thighs, but he doesn’t want to untangle their legs. Gale's long fingers draw idle patterns on his bare chest.
When Bucky takes a deep breath to sigh through all the longing he feels, Gale’s eyes flicker up to his.
Bucky's smile comes to his lips like warmth follows the sunshine. "Back with me, darlin'?"
Gale gives him a fond, tired blink and hums.
It's not enough. Bucky craves Gale's voice, and the sweet reassurance that he had a good time. It's not easy to keep the reins firmly in his hand and not crash when Gale puts such immense trust in him. He wants to hear how he did. He lays a hand on Gale’s stomach, swiping back and forth with his thumb. "How are you feeling?"
Like a cat, Gale smiles and rolls his head against the pillow to press his face to Bucky’s. His hand wedges itself between Bucky arm and ribs. "Good."
Bucky's palm slides to the small of Gale’s back to drag him closer, abs to abs, chest to chest. He grins and nips Gale's cheek. "You laughed before you came."
Gale tenses up all over, but Bucky presses down with his arm to keep him from pulling his hand back to cover his face. A sound of embarrassment escapes Gale's throat. "Did I?"
"You giggled every time I got your sweet spot."
Gale wriggles his hand free and bows his head to hide his eyes behind it. His hair tickles Bucky’s nose. "Oh God."
"What?" Bucky laughs.
"It’s embarrassing."
"Why?"
"I lost control."
"Nah, you didn't lose it." Bucky rocks him in his arms playfully. "Just gave it to me."
He nuzzles the back of Gale's fingers. When Gale moves them to nudge him away, he captures one between his teeth. That makes Gale snicker, and he starts wrestling Bucky until he gets him on his back, Gale’s weight draped over him. He drops his forehead to Bucky's chest.
"Are you still okay with all this?"
"Hell yeah, Buck. Do you know how hot that was?"
Gale raises his head again, his face aflame, but the look in his eyes is fondly sceptical. "You say that about damn near everything I do."
A slow smirk spreads over Bucky's lips. "Doesn’t make it untrue."
Gale looks away, quiet for a long moment. "Did you... actually like that?"
Bucky wets his lips. The image of Gale's bliss flashes in his mind. The way he tightened up, the lilt of his laugh. If he keeps thinking about it, he’s going to harden again. "Yeah. Wondered what it felt like."
Gale makes a noncommittal noise and starts playing with the hair on Bucky's chest. Bucky shifts his hips. He knew he'd have to pull it out of Gale word by word. "What did it feel like?"
Gale shrugs, uncomfortable.
He still avoids Bucky's gaze until Bucky grabs his chin and tilts his head up. "It’s not embarrassing."
"Felt good." Gale says, as if he thinks he can get away with that vague answer. It amuses Bucky that they keep repeating the same tug of war in their conversations about sex and neither of them seems to learn to give in faster. He, too, continues what he always does - keeps pulling.
"Uh-huh. Good." He runs his palms down the length of Gale's back. "Don’t spoil me with compliments, Buck, or it might go to my head."
Gale gives him an amused look from under his lashes. "What if I say you did well?"
Satisfaction tingles on Bucky’s tongue, but he bites it, craving more. A smile plays around his lips. "How well?"
Gale looks away, then back at Bucky, contemplating. The moment he gives in, his ears turn red again. "Well enough that I couldn't bear it."
"So you laughed."
"So I did."
They keep smiling at each other for a beat of silence, then Bucky pushes up on his elbows, grabs the back of Gale's head and kisses him on the mouth. "I wanna do it again."
Gale's breath fans across his lips in an excited rush.
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