#I don’t really know the tags for this but whatever this was very self indulgent | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

prettyboykatsuki · 2 years

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you say the word, im on the way | e. yeager

♤ tags ;; fem!reader, cheating (on reader but not by eren), exes to lover, past toxic relationships, arguing and insults, very emotionally charged sex, co-dependency (in a way), childhood friends to lovers, streamer!eren (BARELY mentioned), make-up sex, oral (f!recieving),, unprotected sex, so much dirty talk, praise kink, petnames angel, baby, pretty girl, eren kinda.. talks to ur pussy djhsdj, 18+

♤ wc ;; 10.2k (utter agony)

♤ a/n ;; i really like. this isn't the best. but that's fine i had a lot of fun alr. very self indulgent. title from teenage fever by drake.

♤ synposis ;; after your boyfriend cheats on you, your ex, eren, shows up for you against all odds. you give into him against your best interest.

You wait for him on the side of the road.

The rain is coming down in heavy sheets. You’re soaked to the bone having left in a hurry with only a single suitcase of your things. Your phones nearly dead, less than 20 percent with an ever-depleting battery. The closest place to charge your phone is too long to walk in this weather. And it’s so late the buses have stopped running.

Even if you could leave, it’s dark and dangerous. Your heart is in your throat, and the only streetlight is so far it hardly makes you feel any safer. You don’t know a single person in your ex-boyfriend's hometown other than his parents, but you aren’t sure you can face them right now if you wanted to.

It’s not like you wanted to call Eren. Or for him to see you as sorry as you are. Dehydrated, exhausted, emotionally battered - you don’t even like seeing Eren when you’re at your best. You’re sure as soon as you get into his car, he’ll start arguing with you. You’ve spent the last 15 minutes mentally readying yourself for his harsh comments whatever they may be.

You don’t have the luxury of being picky. He’s safer than venturing by yourself or taking an Uber. And he owes you one, anyway. Nows a good of a time as any to take him up on that.

Relief fills your whole body when you see a car pull up onto the side of the road. It’s an all-black sports car. Typically Eren, it sticks out sorely from all the other cars that have passed by. Wiping your eyes, you clear your vision to see Eren inside. He’s wearing a black cap and mask.

Your feet sink in the mud as you walk up to the car, but he beats you to the punch. Approaching you in the dead of night with a sort of anger you can feel before you even look at his face. He has a jacket with him made of that thin plastic material.

Before you open your mouth, he’s pulling the poncho over your head. He puts your arms through before he drags you by the wrist to his car. Hurriedly, you grab your suitcase and track it through the mud while you follow. Your voice is too hoarse to protest him, but you shout over the rain.

“Fuck Eren,” You half yell, wriggling your wrist free from his grip “Let me go,”

When he does, you stumble forward. You don’t get a look at his face as he walks over to the driver's side. In your exhaustion, you don’t think twice about it or assume he was doing it on purpose. You resign yourself. Hearing the back trunk of his car open, you try and read his face through the tinted windows. But even with the lights on, you can’t.

Sighing, you truck it towards the back. Your feet sink into the soft earth under you, huffing as you pick it up and shove it into the trunk. After you close it, you hurry back to the passenger seat, finally opening the door to see Eren.

He doesn’t even look at you when you do, eyes focused on the road. You stare at the interior of his car, grimacing at the thought of having to pay him back for getting it covered in mud. Left without a choice, you get in.

The plastic on his seat tells you he might’ve thought ahead. You aren’t sure if you should be comforted by that or not.

The door closes with a soft thud as you get to sit. The sound of the rain is muted almost instantly and leaves you with nothing but the radio, virtually silent, and Eren with a hand over the wheel. You put your seatbelt on and then settle more into your seat. Turning your body to face the window. The tension in the air is so thick you can feel yourself choke around it, breathing through your nose.

Eren’s car smells like spearmint. You’re expecting to be berated at some point, for inconveniencing him or otherwise. After all, you called him through a sob and asked him for something you’re sure he’d rather not be doing.

Instead though, he puts the car in drive, steps on the gas, and does a turn until he’s back on the road home.

He doesn’t say a word or even looks at you. Maybe reminding him of the fact he owed you meant he was going to treat this interaction as entirely transactional, which is infinitely better for you. You let out a breath of relief, shivering. He turns on the heat without you asking.

You decide against speaking and give him a glance of acknowledgment. He doesn’t return the gesture.

You hear your phone buzz in the pocket of your pants, and fish it out. As you expected, it’s just your ex-boyfriend. A slew of missed messages and calls. Your eyes hurt getting adjusted to the bright lights as you send him a quick stop texting me tonight before clicking it off. You want to throw your phone in the river, and yourself. To float down somewhere far from here, and pretend nothing ever happened.

With the white noise of rain no longer drowning out your invasive and sad thoughts, you find yourself choking back more tears. The wound is still fresh, tender, and bleeding.

You’ve always had bad taste in guys.

But you thought this time would be different. He was different. Patient, and attentive and so thoughtful. It was always stable. You met his family, for fuck sake. His mom, dad, and sister - are all good people. A nice house with a garage, health insurance, and a college graduate. From a different place than you and your friends.

It was never all that exciting, but you thought it was better that way. To keep it simple. You put in the effort to make it work. Got comfortable with complacency, and waved off all of your friends when they insisted you should date someone better. Someone who suited you more.

Maybe someone like Eren. The thought makes your stomach sour.

But your ex, he wasn’t a bad guy. It wasn’t so easy. He was safe, and after your other experience with romantic relationships- safety wasn’t something you could dismiss with the idea of deserving more. More was abstract and intangible. Slippery.

You were content, so you stayed. Stability, you told yourself, I just want stability.

He was the last person you could imagine cheating on you. Unsurprisingly with a girl from his hometown who he’d told you about before and swore he got over. Feeling stupid, you let out an exasperated laugh. It’s your fault for trying so hard. For taking his inch and trying to turn it into a mile.

For believing it’d be enough to try. Maybe you know better than anyone, there are just some people you never get closure with. That distant look in his eyes concerned you. But a guy like him didn’t seem like he’d cheat.

You’ve never been so wrong.

Your stomach rumbles as you close your eyes and go over the fight. Subsequently, you forget Eren is even in the car with you. His presence fades into the background, face pained as you think of your exes apologies. He seemed sorry.

But you’re not someone who can forgive or forget easily - so you broke up. It just complicates everything. Already broken up, but you have to get your things. Find a place to stay for the month because it’s too expensive to go home early. Delete him off your socials, and maybe get in touch with your therapist again. The laundry list of post-break-up things to do is the most frustrating and most taxing.

The emotional healing and distrust go in some compartment until you can actually unpack them. After the initial devastations scabs over, you’re sure the sore feeling of sadness will come back with a vengeance.

That’s later though, and this is now.

Moping is a pipe-dream, seeing as you’re in a place where you have no one and nothing. The only person you know lives here is Eren, but you’re not really expecting any help from him after tonight. Maybe 3 days max, if he’s feeling generous enough.

At the very least, he must feel pretty sorry for you. No snippy remark or sarcastic gripe since you’ve gotten in. You can’t figure out what he’s thinking, just as before. It’s almost impossible to get a read on his face, and that thought leaves your mouth bitter.

As bitter as a favor. As bitter as a memory, you swipe your tongue on your teeth to rid yourself of the taste but it lingers.

You avert your eyes to your hands, peeling the skin off the edge of your fingernails. After a minute or two, you drive in front of a stoplight. The red reflects onto your sneakers and into Eren’s car.

“So,” He starts, voice filled with that familiar sharpness “How’s the boyfriend?”

Ah. There it is. He almost disarmed you with his silence. It’s a weird way to start scolding you, but you’ve never really understood why Eren does what he does. You sigh, clearing your throat. It’s thick with tears you’ve been shedding all evening.

“Ex-boyfriend.”

The light goes green, and he takes a right. He lives farther than you thought.

“How’d you fuck it up this time?”

Normally, his insistence on blaming you would frustrate you. It’s classically Eren. The projection was always the name of the game when you two were dating, especially at the sour end of your relationship.

Your desire and ability to fight are diminished though, turning into ember and ash. Giving him a shrug, you laugh a bit.

“Don’t know,” You say with a little more honesty than you were intending to “I just uh. I don’t know.”

He sighs this time, and his voice goes a touch soft. Sympathy feels worse than his anger. How pathetic you must look settles in.

“...What happened?”

It’s hard to get yourself to say it. Even though you know it. Getting the words out feels like climbing a mountain. You lean back into the headrest and turn away from him. Watching the passing cars intently, you smile.

“He cheated on me. From uh, a girl with his hometown,” You say, forthright. Hoping his pity might make him go easy on you “His first love. I came home and found them in our bed,”

You can feel him go stiff beside you.

You realize that anything he said to you right now probably wouldn’t hurt. The numb pain outweighs everything else that you think it’d slide off your back.

“And?”

“Uh... I don’t know. She left. And we got into a fight. Broke up with him and said I’d figured something out. Just didn’t really want to be in the same room with him,” You sigh, rubbing underneath your eyes “Packed my shit and sort of wandered around trying to figure out what to do. Called you when I saw how late it got,”

“Should’ve called me earlier,” He says simply. You chuckle.

“Like when?”

He huffs.

“Earlier. Would’ve picked you from his place and fought him or something.”

You smile somberly.

“I thought about it, buut I thought that'd upset him, so I didn’t,”

This he scoffs at, anger in his voice.

“That’s so like you,”

You wish you could disagree.

“Yeah,” You say back, unsure of what else to do “Yeah, guess it is.”

“What’re you gonna do now?”

You take a deep breath in.

“I won’t be in your hair long. I’ll try and score an Airbnb and wait it out. Leaving early is expensive as fuck.”

“You could stay with me if it’s just a couple of weeks,” He offers easily “Airbnbs are more expensive than a ticket, right?”

“Would your girlfriend be okay with that? Does she know you’re picking me up?”

He stares out into the road, jaw clenched.

“We broke up a while ago.”

“What happened there?”

“None of your business.”

You scoff.

“Of course, it isn’t,” You reply, a little angrier than you can control “Your personal life never is. My mistake. I’m a little rusty on how this works.”

His voice is so cold it’s chilling.

“Don’t,” He grits, hands hard on the steering wheel “Don’t fucking start,”

“I’m not trying to start anything. But it’s hypocritical for you to ask me about the shit that just happened and not even tell me why you and your girlfriend broke up.”

“I’m doing you a favor,” He justifies in a half-hearted way you’ve grown accustomed to “I deserve to know,”

You laugh, voice strangled.

“You deserve a fucking foot up your ass,” You spit, suddenly shaking “A simple ‘It’s complicated or ‘I don’t want to talk about it right now’ would’ve sufficed.”

“You’re still good at picking fights,” He goads, mouth twisted in a sneer “Did you nag him too? Maybe that’s why he went crawling back to his first love”

It’s too far. He’s too far, and he knows it. It’s all over his face, even masked in anger. You shoot him a deadly look, arms crossed over your chest. Suddenly, tears well up in your eyes and you can’t even look at him. It was a mistake, of course it was. You shouldn’t have bothered. Expecting anything from Eren was your own fault. Even basic decency.

Whatever camaraderie you used to have dissolved a long time ago. You bite your tongue

“You’re the fucking worst,” You sniffle, closing your eyes “Just drop me off at a hotel. I don’t want to be around you. It’s my fault for assuming you’d be civil.”

His hands are gripping the steering wheel tight.

“Tell me how you really feel,” His voice is dripping with sarcasm. “I think I’m being plenty civil right now,”

“Fuck. Do you get off on provoking me? On hurting my fucking feelings?” Your voice comes to a scratchy yell, unable to contain the anger in it “I just got fucking cheated on. In the middle of a city where I don’t know a single person other than you. You’re the last person I want to fucking see, Eren. The last,”

“So why’d you call me crying?”

“I didn’t have a choice! If I had a choice, I would’ve called anyone else. Would’ve called Jean or Connie or Armin—anyone. Anyone who isn’t fucking you.”

He clicks his teeth.

“Liar,” He says with the sort of confidence that floors you “You would’ve still called me even if everyone we know was in the city,”

It stings that he’s right. Your strength crumbles.

“So what if that’s true? What does it matter that I thought of you? That’s always been my issue, right? How’d you put it again?” You laugh out loud, a little out of it “I should stop expecting anything from you, right? It’s my fault. I should just stop having expectations for anyone. It must be me.”

He looks a little strained. Almost sorry. You scoff.

“Yeah,” You mumble, exhausted “You’re right. I shouldn’t expect anything from anyone. No matter how much I heal, or how hard I try to do the right thing”

“Y/N—”

“I worked on myself. Went to therapy. Took time off from dating altogether. Did everything right and still,” Your mouth fills with iron “Still. Still. I can’t find one person to treat me decently. Congrats, Yeager. It’s just like you hoped.”

The silence that follows says more than you ever could. You rub your temple. He’s probably right that you pushed it.

“Sorry for snapping on you,” You reply, voice tense “But, I still want to be dropped off at a hotel.”

“Why?”

You laugh.

“What do you think? Think we’re gonna be able to play house for two weeks? It hasn’t even been an hour and we’re fighting,”

He’s thinking. You can see it on his face, the tight strain of his jaw, and his brows. You haven’t seen him in person for more than a couple of years. But the familiarity always lingers. It doesn’t feel unusual, even the fighting.

He hasn’t changed. That much is obvious.

You shouldn’t have called, you think. It might’ve been better to get hypothermia and walk to the nearest motel.

“It’s not your fault he cheated on you,” He says. You think it’s his way of apologizing, a piss poor attempt at comforting you “Guys are just scumbags. Hung up on their first love or whatever. It’s not uncommon,”

You don’t know if you want to laugh or cry. Frankly, you don’t have the energy for either.

“Does that include you?” You attempt to joke. To your surprise, he laughs. His voice is hoarse, and a touch resentful. Not at you, though. That feels important.

“Yeah.” He replies, not looking over at you “Me especially,”

It’s the first time he’s said as much about himself in your presence. Before it was that you didn’t understand him or that you didn’t get it. It’s too early to retract your previous statement. Hope sparks anyways. For what, you don’t want to know.

You nod sagely.

“You especially,” You affirm without any trouble “At least you know.”

This time, he smiles at you. It’s barely there. This whole conversation and the good nature of it is like walking on eggshells. You both know that.

Eren breaks the silence first as he pulls into another lane.

“Stay with me for tonight,” He offers “Just tonight,”

You don’t know why he insists. A loud yawn slips through your lips and your inclination to protest dwindles before being snubbed out completely. Shivering, you nod. Your head feels heavy.

“If you say so,”

You think you feel a pair of eyes on you before sleep washes over you like a tide. They might be Erens, but in your delirium, you can’t be sure. It doesn’t take much for you to succumb to sleep.

After your car ride ended, Eren woke you up gently to help you inside. This time, he took your luggage without your asking and helped you into his home.

He lives in one of those luxury apartments with a doorman. It’s fancier than you could ever imagine yourself living in. There’s a chandelier in the lobby, with a gym and a pool. Trekking mud into such a nice place makes you feel guilty. Eren seems unbothered.

You take the elevator up to the 7th floor, and then a right into the hallway. Eren fishes the keys out of his pocket, unlocking the door and stepping aside to let you in.

This is a bachelor pad. It’s the first thing that crosses your mind when you enter.

The decoration is minimalist and expensive. Boyish in its extravagance, littered with pricey things only Eren Yeager would buy. The couches are black, the carpet is white and the windows are big panes that overlook the entire city.

A flatscreen takes up most of the room. There’s a kitchen but it looks unused. It’s lived in, in the way that there are running shoes and clothes. Mess that happens when you spend your time somewhere, but it’s void of things a girlfriend would have in the house. You would know.

On one of the walls is a painting of a woman's naked body, tastefully done. From what you remember of Eren’s ex-girlfriend, she’d have his head over something like that.

Eren clears his throat behind you. When you turn to look at him, he looks a little sheepish.

“Broke up a while ago huh,”

He looks surprised at your deduction. You poke your head at the painting.

“She would’ve beat your ass for even thinking about putting that up,”

His expression is affirmative. After you’re done taking it in, all of your sensory issues hit you all at once. You pull the sleeves of your soaked hoodie over your hands but you’re freezing. His eyes widen.

“Ah, shit. Let me get you a towel. I’ll turn the heat up too,”

“Thanks, ‘ren.”

The nickname slips out of habit, but you don’t get a chance to retract it as Eren shuffles off to grab you a towel.

It doesn’t take him very long, a few in hand. You watch him idly as he turns on the heat before hurrying back over to you, shoving towels your way. You make him hold them for a minute, taking off your poncho and hanging it to him.

You dry yourself off to the best of your ability as Eren goes to put away the raincoat.

“Mind if I shower?”

He shakes his head.

“Would be concerned if you didn’t. I can get us food or something while you’re in there,”

“That’s… thoughtful of you. I’d appreciate it. I can Venmo—”

He puts a hand up, sitting on the back of his couch while you dry yourself off.

“Save your money if you’re worried about it.”

“I don’t want to owe you anything.”

Your frank way of speaking to him irritates him, same as always.

“You won’t owe me,” He assures first “I know we hate each other's guts now, but I’m not gonna let you go hungry.”

Warm. It makes you feel warm. You avert your eyes as you dry yourself off.

“Your mom would have your head,” You murmur. He laughs.

“My mom might forgive me. Zeke and my old man would hang me like a flag,”

“How’s Zeke been?”

His expression goes dry. They’re fighting. Eren rolls his eyes.

“Fine. On my ass, as usual. Business is good. I’ve got a niece now. Zeke’s wrapped around her finger,”

You’ve seen it floating on social media. You feel a little melancholy. It must show on your face.

“You should still visit home sometimes. Don’t be a stranger,”

You smile sadly.

“Easier said than done,”

“...Even if you don’t see me. I’m not the only one who misses you. Jean hasn’t stopped bitching about you going to see just Armin.”

You don’t know if he catches it. He misses you. You’re too afraid to confront it but unable to ignore it. You think over his words.

“It’s not like I don’t want to,” You start, voice slow “But after everything… after everything.”

There’s a minute where neither of you talks. Yet it’s not silent. The room is tense with everything you want to say or everything you did. Every regret, every memory starts to buzz all at once inside of your ribs like a spark of electricity through your hollow.

“If tonight didn’t happen, I wouldn’t have ever seen you again,”

He shakes his head with the same confidence as before.

“I would’ve found you.”

He says it like it doesn’t need any explanation. As casual as relaying the weather to you. He gives you a look, scratching his jaw.

“Go shower. How’s Thai? Same as before?”

It takes you a second to find your voice.

“Y-Yeah. Same as before. Where’s your shower?”

He directs his eyes towards the bathroom. You grab your small luggage on your way, offering him a quiet thanks. The sound of your heartbeat thrums in your ears, faster than the pounding rain.

Time passes like sand between your fingers.

After a shower, a change of clothes, and a full stomach - you and Eren are left totally in each other's company. Your expectation of it being awkward or even marginally uncomfortable becomes unthinkable after a while. Despite how late it is, you aren’t tired or all that sad.

Truthfully, you don’t know how to handle how familiar Eren feels. Like a durable winter coat with a heavy and comforting weight on your shoulders. It’s not burdensome to talk to him. He matches your pace and picks up easily on your quips. Natural lulls in conversation don’t feel uncomfortable and every misdirect or anecdote opens the door for more conversation.

Maybe you should’ve expected that. You and Eren grew up together. Along with Mikasa and Armin, and everyone from your hometown. It shouldn’t surprise you that Eren is comfortable.

When you look at him, you see home. If your gaze lingers. even a second too long or if you think for a minute more than necessary, you’re caught in the web of memories you’ve spent your whole life making.

You wonder about your ex-boyfriend. The irony of it isn’t lost on you. Maybe it hurts because you understand perfectly. No matter how much you love after, there’s nothing like first love. If he saw that in her eyes, it’s all that much harder to feel angry.

The only thing keeping you grounded is remembering that you’ve tried before and it failed miserably. It sinks you when you float too close to your heartwarming nostalgia.

The acrid truth is that this is all temporary and circumstantial.

Every now and again you remind yourself you’ve just been very vulnerable. And Eren’s grounding presence is helping you.

Again and again, you remind yourself that.

“High school was so ass,” Eren leans back into the couch, stretching his legs out “Mrs. Carnegie was such a bitch,”

You give him an unimpressed look. He looks like you remember when he’s like this. Having changed into his own clothes, hair tied up messily. He’s adjacent to you on the couch, far enough to stretch his limbs comfortably.

“She was nice to me. She was a bitch to you because you kept interrupting class,”

He rolls his eyes.

“And who was I doing that for?”

Your heart skips a beat. .

“Man, whatever.”

He laughs at you.

“Weak come-back,” He hums, laying his head on the back of his couch. He tilts his head in your direction “I was a good boyfriend in high school at least,” He adds, a little softer.

“You were. You were kinda like a puppy,”

He groans.

“Don’t say it like that, that’s humiliating.”

“What are you talking about? Puppies are cute.”

“Yeah, but hearing that now is embarrassing. I’m a man now,”

You raise a brow.

“Men can't be cute like puppies?”

“No,”

“But Armin is right there,”

“Doesn’t count. He literally looks like a fairy prince. Statistical anomaly,”

That makes you laugh hard enough your stomach hurts.

“Why’re you laughing? Am I wrong?”

“You just said it so seriously. He is an anomaly but I think Connie is cute in a puppy way too,”

“Connie’s bald ass? Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. I like it, his hair looks good buzzed.”

“You’d find something nice to say about a pile of trash,”

“I like your long hair, Yeager.”

He gives you an unimpressed laugh as you break out into laughter.

“Low fucking blow,”

“Cry,”

This time he laughs instead, throwing a pillow at you. You catch it easily, holding it to your chest.

“I do like the hair though. It’s all you ever talked about,”

He gives you a little smile.

“You remembered. I thought it’d make me look cooler. Alternative or whatever. Don’t know if it’s working,”

“Your fans seem to love it,”

He looks sheepish at the mention of his work. You laugh.

“It gets a mixed response. A lot of people miss the short hair. I mostly keep it long because it’s easier to style,”

“Both are nice. I like your short hair more when I think about it,”

“Yeah?”

“I guess it’s cause it was short when we’re growing up. And uh,”

“When we were dating?”

You give him a tight-lipped smile.

“Yeah. When we were dating, it was always short,”

He closes his eyes, suddenly deep in thought.

“You wanna know why I kept it short?”

You think you’d be better off not knowing.

“...Why?”

“When you’d play with my hair,” Subconsciously, he pushes his hair back a little “I could feel it better when my hair was shorter. Thought if I’d grew it, you wouldn’t touch it cause it’d get greasy quicker.”

All at once, you pull back. Whatevers on your face isn’t enough to make Eren waver when he looks at you. It’s easy to get lost in his eyes. Ocean blue, and full of something dark. Tempting like an abyss or a siren song. You swallow a lump in your throat.

“It’s something I’d do,”

The way Eren stares at you is so intense. You’re dancing around it now. What you both want to talk about it. A conversation that’s gone untouched for more than 4 years. Sober and aching. Different but the same.

Eren breaks the tension first. That’s twice.

“I’d cut my hair short if you asked me,”

You’re quiet.

“I’d do whatever you want,”

“Eren,”

“What?”

What do you say? Don’t? Please? What could you say that means more than his name in your mouth?

“You know what,” You say weakly “You know,”

A conversation you’ve had a hundred times before. It burns like bile rising in your esophagus. Crushed windpipes under the burden of love. Your hands grip the ends of the pillow tighter. He sits up straighter. You don’t want to talk about it.

“Do I?”

“Eren,” A warning.

“There’s not any point in talking around it, “ He shoves his hands in the pockets of his hoodie “Around this. Around us.”

“There is no us,” You correct sharply, shaking your head “Not anymore,”

His face doesn’t have anything you can read. You know yours must read of resentment. Eren is his usual blank.

“There could be,”

You shatter at the sentiment. The hopeful, easy way he says it. Like he doesn’t remember anything, and that you two are strangers. You know better that you aren’t. That no amount of healing can take it all back. Maybe you could forgive Eren, and somewhere far down the line - you could even be friends.

But us is impossible. You tried us. It blew up in your face.

“Fuck you for even saying that,” Your voice comes out garbled “Fuck you for even thinking it,”

“How is it fuck me? For wanting to fix our relationship, seriously?”

You hate him. With everything you have in you, with a burning fiery sort of anger. A resentment that’s spent years strangling you. Every time you’ve bitten your tongue, all the time you tried to fix it.

It’s all so messy and so unspeakbly touchy.

“The sooner you get it out of your head there’s a relationship to fix, the better off we’ll be,”

“Bullshit. Bullshit there’s nothing. I make you feel nothing?”

It’s not what you said. He knows that, but he means what he’s saying. And he knows your answer already because he’s like that. He already knows everything about you. Where to make you hurt, and how to make it sting. Eren is a scar, not a bruise. He stays, for as long as you’re alive. No matter how faint, or how healed - he stays a part of you.

He knows that as much as you do. That’s why it took you so long to leave. Of course you’d end up talking about it like this, but that’s not what you wanted. Or maybe it is. You don’t really know what you want from Eren. What you were hoping for when you stayed up late to talk to him and reminisce. You think just camaraderie.

“I hate you so fucking much,” You croak, wiping away angry tears “More than anyone in my life, I hate your fucking guts,”

“You don’t mean that,”

“I do,” Your reply comes in an angry hush “I can’t forget how we ended Eren. The months after I left were some of the worst of my life. Do you know how long it took me? To get better?”

His jaw clenches.

“I didn’t think you would leave,”

His confession stuns you into silence. His arrogance never fails to astound, Like this, it feels incredibly frustrating. Your stomach sours.

“...You thought I would stay? After everything?”

“You said you would,” He raises his voice this time. He sounds hurt. Angry. Sad. All things you didn’t know he could still feel “You—you fucking promised. It was supposed to be forever and you left first.”

“You can’t be serious,”

“You promised,”

“Yeah,” This time you sit up. Everything hits you at the same time “When I was 17 and in love. Before you treated me like shit,”

He winces. So he does know.

“You remember now, don’t you? You changed. You left for college, you stopped picking up my calls. You were such a fucking flirt that half of your campus thought you were single till I moved in. You remember that Eren?”

His silence makes you madder.

“You remember. right? How I’d desperately try and fix our relationship while you ran around doing whatever? You always looked so fucking indifferent. All we ever did was fight. Nothing I did worked,”

“Y/N—”

“I didn’t know anything other than you. If it was anyone else… But it was you,”

“I’m—”

“You used to tell me when we were kids that if any boy hurt my feelings, you’d kill him. You remember that?”

He closes his eyes.

“Don’t make it sound like I just up and left for nothing. We both know that’s bullshit,” You choke back a sob as you think about it. The gaping hole in your chest that Eren always left splits open again.

“I’ve always loved you. Always. From the minute I could walk and talk. I didn’t leave because I didn’t love you, Eren,” Even now, you don’t want him thinking that “I left because you didn’t love me. I left because I realized that”

The silence that follows your rant exhausts you so much you slump back into the couch. You learned your lessons the hard way. That love was meaningless to safety. That stability was a luxury few can afford. Nothing is guaranteed.

This second time around, you know that love can’t be one-sided. Maybe that’s what all of this has been trying to teach you.

You cry silently, taking in deep breaths. You have no idea what he’ll say, and you don’t know if you care.

“I’m sorry,”

“....What?”

“I’m sorry,” His voice breaks a little this time. You don’t remember the last time you saw him cry “I didn’t mean for things to end like that,”

“Sorry doesn’t fix it,”

You know it’s a mean thing to say. It’s not kind or forgiving. His sincerity doesn’t even feel real to you at the moment he says, but sorry doesn’t make you feel better. Sorry doesn't fix it.

“I know,”

“Then why say it?”

“I still love you,”

Drowning. You’re drowning in murky waters, hardly getting air.

“You don’t love me,”

“Don’t say that,” His voice sounds weak and desperate. You haven’t heard it like that in so long. Vulnerable “Even if you hate my fucking guts. I still love you, always did. Always.”

“Then why did you do that to me?”

“I was terrified,”

It’s been a long time since you’ve seen Eren. Spoken to him, or even called him on the phone. Years. Checking on him through his social media and streams was all you ever got. Sometimes Armin would fill you in, or Mikasa.

But Eren, in your eyes, had remained how you left him. He got arrogant you think. He got his fix and grew up to be tall and handsome. Had aspirations and grew out of his shyness.

And instead of growing together, you grew apart. You started to accept the fact that the Eren you loved was no longer someone you could reach. The young, doe-eyed lovesick boyfriend. Eren was just a college boy now. Not your only exception, not the love of your life.

Accepting that was the hardest thing you’ve had to do in your life.

So why does he sound like someone you used to love? And why now, of all times?

“When you talk like that, it makes me think you’re different.”

“I am,” He stops for a minute, hands folded “I’m trying to be.”

“...Why were you scared?”

“It’s uhm, I don’t know how to say it,”

“Take your time,”

“Doing long distance made me realize how much I needed you,” His voice is hardly over a whisper. “It was ego. But I hated that. I had it in my head that you were off with other guys, and I—I don’t fucking know—I was stupid. I wanted to feel like you still wanted me,”

“So what? You made me chase you?”

“Yeah. Something like that. When you moved in, it just… I don’t know. I saw how everyone looked at you. I didn’t think it would make me so angry to see you like that,”

“Sounds like…”

“Self-sabotage,” Eren interjects “That’s what my therapist said, at least.”

“You’re in therapy?”

“Only a few months, but yeah. It helps.”

“I don’t understand you at all,” You shake your head “ Not at all,”

“You bring out the best and worst in me.” He replies with a humorless laugh on his lips “Still. Around anyone else, it doesn’t matter. What they do or don’t do,”

“And me?”

“You,” He rubs a hand over his face, voice shaking. He tries to be lighthearted but the sentiment is sincere “I make myself sick thinking about you,”

It feels hot under your clothes.

“We shouldn’t be… I shouldn't—”

“I know. You drive me so fucking crazy and I get so angry. I know, but how the fuck could it ever be anyone but you?”

Your breath hitches.

“What’re you saying?”

“That I want you. I want you so fucking bad. I don’t want to ever be away from you ever again. I can’t help but want that,”

You can feel him coming into your space. How he scoots closer to you, just enough that he’s moving across the couch. He’s so much bigger than you remember. Stronger. It's all moving so fast. When he puts his hand on your knee, you tense but don’t move. The dizzying smell of his cologne catches on your tongue and tickles your throat.

His eyes dart down to your lips. His hands running up your outer thighs. You’re defenseless. Weak, you pull back a little. He doesn’t move.

“I can’t just forgive you overnight—”

“I know,” He leans in a little more. Close enough that his breath touches your skin “I’ll keep trying. I want to try again. I’ll earn it this time. I’ll chase you, and you can ignore me all you want,”

He’s being cheeky as much as he’s being serious. Classically Eren. You’re so screwed.

You feel your throat close up as he inches forward.

“You’re so bad for me.” You whisper, the words too heavy.

“Two sides of the same coin,” He says back, then he smiles “We’re made for each other. You think that too. I know you do,”

“I wanted stability,”

“I’ll try to give you it. If that’s what you want.”

“And if you’re just a rebound?”

“As long as I’m yours,”

“You’re such a scumbag.”

“I know,”

Everything falls from under you the minute you kiss him.

A little noise of surprise leaves his lips that instantly morphs into desire. It’s an uncouth display of emotions, so animal that you can hardly call it love. It’s something in between love and hatred, the opposite of indifference. All the intensity of life, of every terrible emotion you’ve ever had. You kiss Eren Yeager first because you miss him, despite yourself. Everything after that is just another blurry detail.

He moans into your mouth. Where your hand has landed on his chest, he grabs your wrist and then drags you into his lap without ever breaking apart. You end up over him, with his lap under yours.

When he has you where he wants you, he hugs you close to his body. You can feel the hardlines of muscle through his shirt, his arms secure around your back. Your tits are pressed against his chest, bra forgotten. The slightest brushes are what make you feel the most.

Eren’s shaky breaths and the overwhelming way his lips move against yours. Indecision in how to treat you. Soft kisses that are followed by rough ones. The intensity of your own desire consumes your ability to act cordial, as you squeeze against Eren tight.

You can feel the rapid beat of Eren’s heart in his chest, grinding your hips into his.

In between kisses, he makes sure to nip at your jaw. You can feel his teeth pierce your pulse point, his tongue lapping over the leftover wound that leaves you shaking.

He litters bites like that on every inch of your skin, your neck left with an ache. There’s something ironic in Eren licking your wounds over, but the words escape you before you can utter them.

Even in just being claimed, the feeling is intense. It makes you visceral. Not to be worked up from touch or words, but something else entirely. Something cosmic in it’s very existence.

Eren finally pulls away from you, just barely to glance at your swollen lips. He meets your eyes as his teeth sink into the lower one to make you whine. He talks to you while your eyes are locked.

“Fuck,” His voice is thick with lust. Heat splits you right in half “Fuck, fuck, baby. Been so long,”

“Y-Your hands,”

“Can’t take em off you,” They’re smooth as they feel you up. Shamelessly squeezing the fat of your hips in between in his fingers, grabbing your ass hard. A guilt creeps up for comparing him to your ex-boyfriend.

But all you can think about is how Eren is the opposite of stability. Images pop up of when you used to have sex, so many years before. He was meeker before, less assured. You thought his confidence would make you sick, but it doesn’t.

Rather, the look on his face while he gropes you makes you wet. Chewing his lower lip, feeling your body like he’s dying to see it under his clothes. Impatiently and unabashedly wanting you in a way that is distinctly Eren.

There’s truth in the sentiment that no one could ever fuck you like Eren could. It’s one you’ve kept to yourself for so long that you almost forgot it. Eren knew your body and shaped it to his hands years ago. You like being touched because of how he touched you, a memory you carried like a torch.

It was Eren who wanted you first, who fucked you first, who made you cum first when you were both so awkward and clumsy.

“Look at you,” He groans. His hands inch under your shirt, skin on skin. Pinching your nipples gently, till they’re hard against your shirt “Look how sexy you are,”

He knows what you like, what you like being told.

“My pretty fucking girl,”

Fuck. Of course, he remembers that.

“Oh, you—”

“So pretty,” He parrots. Even with electricity buzzing in his movements, he’s patient. Undresses you gently. When your skins bare, your shirt tossed to the other side of the room, he kisses the underneath of your tits. Each one, he kneads them. Appreciates them, worships them. All of that undivided attention that he always used to give you when you were dating.

When you were in love.

“You still like when I tease ‘em too,”

His tongue runs over your hardened nipple, sucking it into his mouth, His free hand occupies the other, taking time to give them both equal attention. Your body starts to ignite, little sparks of electricity flitting up your spine.

Letting your fingers card through his hair, you glance down. He looks up at you with his mouth full, eyes lidded. His lashes are long against his olive skin, sun freckles over the bridge of his nose. Your hands reach to touch the moles along his cheeks, all in places you remember.

You don’t resist the urge for intimacy. Not things you did with your ex, but with Eren. You press a kiss to his hairline and his hands get a little tighter. Your want expands, fills like a balloon.

Feeling his cock nudge against your shorts is surprising. A blush crawls over his face, grinding his hips up into you. It’s muscle memory to do it back - rocking yourself until he’s nestled between you. Dry-humping like this makes you feel like a teenager again, doing this in Eren’s dingy basement when you weren’t ready to lose your virginity.

Except Eren knows what he’s doing. He shifts his weight, sitting up enough to push up against your clit. His mouth deatches, a string of saliva in his place. The cool air against the swell of your tits make, adds to the sensation.

He grabs your ass again, this time just to push you up. To set a pace as you grind against each other.

“Wanna know something?”

You choke back a whimper.

“Mm,”

“I used to jack thinking about you,” His voice is slick when he speaks, a low whisper “Remember? You used to be too sensitive so you’d rub against the edge of your bed. Thought about it all the time after you told me,”

Your jaw drops open.

“You—”

“You’re a big girl now, aren’t you? Not too sensitive for this, but—,” He does it with more purpose, a long slow drag so you can feel his shaft against your clothed cunt “you still like it slow,”

“Eren, holy—”

“Everything you like,” He hums, this time matching how he moves you with his own body “Still remember every detail,”

“Y-Yeah?”

“Yeah baby,” He dips his head to kiss against the column of your throat again, this time sucking deep dark hickies. You can feel his lips when you moan “Everything. Kept me company,”

You’re almost too afraid to ask what he means.

“Eren,” You half beg, fingers twitching with want “Don’t tease me,”

“What do you need?”

“Uhm,” Embarrassed. For some reason, Eren asking you is making you embarrassed. You’ve never been before “This is so humiliating,”

“You were always shy about asking for it,”

“So why’re you making me, asshole?”

“I like watching you squirm,”

“Shut up, you’re awful,”

“Put something in my mouth, then?”

Your eyes go wide, and he smiles. His breath brushes against the shell of your ear.

“You wanna sit on my face, right? Shut me up,”

It was a stupid arguement you had. At the latter half of your relationship, sometimes the only way you two resolved things was sex. Eren referencing it makes you mad as much as it makes you wet.

When you were both a little inebriated, he used to beg you for it.The memories of that make you nod. Your voice is coarse with lust.

“Wanna sit on your face,”

“Take your shorts off,”

Taking off your clothes is haphazardly done. You and Eren part ways. He takes off his shirt and hoodie to reveal a body cut from pure marble. He was always athletic, but clearly his gym rat posting on his IG story were genuine and not for show. He sends you a little smirk when he catches you staring, flexing his muscles a little.

“Do I look good?”

You nod, awestruck as you wriggle out of your shorts leaving you in just your socks. Eren does the rest slowly, stood up and taking off his sweatpants His thighs are muscular, strong with a little dark hair. It’s on his stomach too, just barely there.

The fabric of his boxers strain against his cock. It’s big, bulges against the black material that you can see the skin. It’s intimidating to look at.

Your eyes follow him to the couch. You watch him get comfortable, moving pillows around to make sure there’s enough space. He flashes you a smile when he’s laid down, untying his hair as a last touch.

“Come here, angel,” He signals, waving you over “Come sit,”

The air brushes past you as you approach him. He reaches a hand out to lace with your hands.

“Face that way. So you can hold onto my hair, yeah?”

“Yeah,”

It takes you a minute. It’s easier to climb over his chest, inching towards his face. When you’re spread right over his neck, he gives you a cheeky grin. His hands reach over your thigh, pulling you apart. His eyes are zeroed in on your clit, finger brushing back the hair on you. The affectionate way he does both makes you want to hide away.

Eren is holding you in place so you can’t move.

“Look at that,” He whispers, breath fanning your cunt “Look at how wet you got for me,”

Instead of putting his tongue where you need it, he cranes his neck to one side and presses kisses into your inner thigh. Licking at the skin, he holds your eyes.

“Tell me something,”He goes an inch highe and leaves a hickey before repeating it a little bit aove “Did he ever get you this wet? You can be honest,”

Your clit throbs between your legs. Eren grins, as you squirm. You look down at him, shaking your head.

“Not like you. I mean, he wasn’t bad but he wasn’t—”

“But he wasn’t me, was he?” He goes on, his lips pressing right against your achy clit, arousal on his lips that he licks with ease “Could never be me, could he?”

“Eren,” You whine. His smile gets bigger, tongue licking one long stripe against your folds.

“Say it baby. That I’m the best you’ve ever had?”

Your reply is a meek yeah. It’s hard to do anything with confidence or self-assurance when your entire body is begging to be pleasured. Eren gives you a few more kisses on your clit, like he’s making out with it. It’s sweet and lazy, making your hips buck for more.

“I’m the same,” He coos, sticking his tongue out as he forces your weight down so you’re not longer hovering but sitting on his face “There’s nothing like you,”

He doesn’t hesitate to dive in right after that. Burying himself deep, your hands immediately fix at the base of his hair. He’s not shy about it, his tongue laid flat, creating just enough suction around to feel. It’s perfectly pracited, familiar.

Eren eats you out from memory. That much is obvious to you as soon as you feel him, the wet heat of his mouth and his tongue. It’s a measured build of pleasure, soothing a long-time ache that slowly escalates to something more.

A mewl escapes your throat. He moans against your pussy, nose bumping against you. Tugging at the roots of his hair, you wiggle your hips to get him to give you more.

You feel the coil in your tummy when Eren goes a little deeper, sucks a little harder, moves a little faster. Encouraging you to use him to the best of your ability as he pushes your hips, nails dug in the skin to keep you steady Looking down makes you see him completely blissed out, like he’s in a comfortable dream.

You don’t really remember the last time someone went down on you like this without asking. Like he’s enjoying it all on his own, like he wants you. There’s vigor to how he takes you into his mouth, tastes you greedily, with appreciative grunts and groans.

The word perfect falls flat to how Eren licks your pussy. Perfect is too prim, too neat. Whatever Eren makes you feel between your legs, is far from perfect. Eren is something more. More intangible, hard to touch. He eats your pussy perfectly, but messily. Desperately, lovingly. Every inch of you is wanted, tongue nestled against your folds and on your hard clit like he wants to stay. He looks at you intoxicated and it shows in how much joy he takes in tasting you. Hitched to your very existence, like a planet revolving around the sun.

He does it like it’s a privilege, a divine gift. Sucks like it’s sweet, ripe fruit in scorching summers. Water in an oasis, deserving of only the highest praise. Not worth wasting even for pride. Shameless.

You can feel yourself tipping closer and closer to the familiar edge. Each second pushes you to it, closer and closer and closer before you feel the feeling again. Deep in your body, undoing you completely.

“Eren, oh—”

You cum hard. It’s the first one, the most intense. Eren is unyielding as you hit your high and start to fall back down, catching on each layer of the ozone. You moan his name over and over, Eren, Eren, Eren. It’s all you can think to say. The only person you’d trust to catch you from this high, you fall foward. Hand gripping on the couch, you try to wiggle away but he won’t let you until he’s had his fix.

When he pulls away, he takes in a deep breath.

You lean back, catching sight of his face. It’s dripping down his chin. He reaches his hands to wipe it with his fingers, then sticks his hands up to you.

“Open your mouth up,” He says, pushing his fingers against your tongue “Or come down here and clean me up, maybe?”

You widen your eyes. Curiosity getting the better of you, you wiggle down until you’re face level with him. He gives you a glance, encouraging you. Unsure, you push your tongue out against his neck, tracing down to his adams apple. He groans, voice vibrating.

“Fuck yeah,” His hands comes around the back fo your neck “Just like that baby. That’s perfect,”

Your memory reminds you. You repeat your actions, tongue dragging over his nec and chin, presses kisses and bites all along his jaw and neck. Eren moans above you appreciatively. The sound is pleasing. Hearing it over and over eggs you on to “clean” him up well until you reach his lips.

The way he kisses you is sweet and gentle. He kisses your lips before peppering them on your face.

“Fuck, look at what you’re doing to me.”

“Making you sappy?”

“Already was. I’m so hard for you right now, it’s fucking stupid,”

You let out a whine.

“Mm,”

“Condoms upstairs,”

“Don’t need ‘em. ‘s fine. Just give it to me how it is,”

He shivers against your body.

“I wanna cum just thinking about it,”

“Don’t think about it and come fuck me,”

He laughs, handing coming down on your ass.

“Get up,”

You stand up and Eren follows suit. He gives you a quick peck before whispering in your ear.

“Bend over the edge of the couch for me,”

Shivering, you nod your head and walk beind the couch. You shoot Eren a look over your shoulder, seeing him ease his cock out of his boxers to give it a quick stroke. It’s just high enough that you struggle to get over it all the way. His eyes are piercing, watching you as you bend over like he asks. You push your ass towards him.

“Like this?”

“That’s perfect, angel. Stay like that,”

You can hear him coming towards you. The weight of his body, bare chest against your spine is almost startling. He’s not crushing you, but you’re still completely pinned under underneath him. You wriggle your hips back, struggling to move.

His hand creeps lower and lower, finger slipping through your folds. He feels you up like that for a while, whistling.

“You’re so wet,” He coos. His voice is smooth in your ear. You moan. He rests his chin just over your shoulder as you turn your head to kiss him. Slowly, he slips his middle finger inside. You’re surprised how little resistance there is really. The pad of his finger reaches far, rubs against your g-spot without second guessing it.

Your squealing makes him do it again. It’s a careful move. Your body responds to him eagerly as he slips another one, steady. Until he’s knuckle deep, stretching out unhurriedly. When it’s no longer a tight fit, he pulls away from you.

Over you, he repositions. You can hear him spit in his hand behind you, the way his palms move against his cock. It’s all completely quiet besides that, lewd little noises that clue you into what he’s doing. Not seeing him makes the anticipation greater, leaves you vulnerable to whatever he wants to do.

“Missed this pretty pussy so much,” He hisses, the head of his cock pushing past your folds until he’s snug against your hole. The muscle clenches “So fucking warm,”

“Eren,”

He pushes forward, a calculated push of hips. You both moan when he enters you. Just the tip, just the familiar curve of his cock. Your inside ache, deep inside. A place only Eren could reach, you think. He groans nto your ear. Your feet are barely touching the floor in this position, Hardly reaching the ground, toes holding you up. The back of the couch digs into your stomach. It’s puts a pressure on your lower belly, that Eren must feel.

All your muscles are tense. Tight. The tip of his cock rubs against your walls. He’s so hard. Intrusive. You clench around him again. Jaw agape, you moan as he pushes even further.

“See that?” He whispers, against the shell of your ear. His hands grab yours, putting them behind your back till your defenseless “She remember me,”

The moan you let out is entirely involuntary once it hits you he means your pussy. Your walls spasm around him. He chuckles at that.

“That’s right. She loves me even if you don’t, doesn’t she?” Pulling his hips back until your empty, he fills you again. Harder this time. You choke on air “We made love tonight, didn’t we?”

“Eren, shit”

“I like when you say my name baby,” He says, another thrust “Like when your pretty pussy welcomes me home. It’s mine, isn’t it? Always has been. Bet he wasn’t making you feel like this, was he?”

All at once, you feel Eren for what he’s worth. You feel his cock, the curve and the shape the weight as it drags inside of you. You feel the weight of his body, all the stretch in your thighs as he casts over you like a shadow. The gravelly way that he speaks reverberating in your bones. He’s fucking you like he’s all the way in the bottom of your stomach.

Like a puzzle piece, Eren completes you on a level no one else in the world could. The way he talks to you reflects his, confidence not unearned. He’s cocky and awful, but his dick is doing this to you. Making your mouth fall open until your drooling underneath him. He answers every craving you ever had, that bone-deep sense of dissatisfaction that you’ve spent an entire year burying.

Eren fucks you like he’s in love with you, and only you. His cock kisses your cervix, and it feels like the same kind done at weddings. A vow to you, a promise. It feels so fucking good when Eren fucks you. Nothing in the world could ever quite comparing to that satisfaction. Deep in your body, primal and hungry.

“You were made for me,” He pants in your ear “Made just for me. No matter how far you go, I’ll find you. Remind you that. You get it now?”

You whimper out loud. Yes comes out naturally. Eren kisses your shoulder blade before sinking his teeth into it.

“Knew you would,

Eren fucks you the only way he’s ever known to. Deep and paced. You can’t say how he does it with anyone else, but with you it’s always been the same. Like he’s carving you out with his cock, the way you’ve always needed. You know you’re starting to be close again with each thrust. It’s a memory that your body welcomes.

Eren knows what you need to cum, but he waits. Like always, he keeps at it until your walls are tremor. Until you’re just getting there, and you need the extra push to get you to your end. He keeps you at the end as he fucks you, whispers filthy things in your ear until you reach the point of desperation that you’re begging.

“Please, Eren,” At your limit, pleaing “Please make me cum,”

“There’s the magic word,”

He snakes a hand around, reaching your clit and giving it a gentle rub. Everything happens at once. It’s perfect motion. Equilibrium. You can feel your knees start to give in as he gives it to you, the tension gently easing out. A carbonated soda, cracked open slowly to make way for the big finish. The release. Eren speaks to you again.

“Cum for me angel. Give it to me,”

Like a seismic wave, you cum hard on Eren’s cock just like he asked. He’s not far behind you, thrusting through the waves of pleasures. Your brain melts out of your ears completely, babbling to him to give you his cum too.

And he does in record time, shallowly rutting into you until you’re full of him, shooting deep. You feel your insides painted white, content at the feeling.

When he pulls out of you, you feel it drip onto his hardwood floors. You’re unsure of what comes next, but he pulls you right into your arms. Into his chest, even with wobbly legs.

“I’m not gonna let you go again,” He assures, more to himself than to you “You’re mine. Forever and always,”

Against your better judgement, you give in. Just for now. Just for the time being.

#eren x reader #eren smut #aot x reader #aot smut #writing tag #toxic cw #cheating cw

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lady-lauren · 1 year

Text

Heaven in Hiding

↣ Pairing: Kyojuro Rengoku x Fem!Reader

↣ Rating: Explicit, 18+ Only

↣ Word Count: 5.7k

↣ Warnings/Tags: modern college au, step-big bro!Rengoku, stepcest, a very slight yandere tone, a bit of enemies to lovers, use of “darling” and “good girl”, cuddling and flirting, the smut comes quickly because I can’t help myself, oral (fem!receiving), facesitting, hair pulling, a little biting/marking, unprotected rough/passionate sex, small belly bulge, creampie

↣ A/N: I’m not sorry. I needed to get this out of my system. I love this man and I have been a god damn emotional rollercoaster with this series, okay? He’s such a good big brother and I can’t stand it. 😭

Kyojuro takes delight in being a big brother. He’s a protector and provider by nature. So, when his father remarried, the union bringing a darling new step-sister into the fold, he found renewed pride and purpose in acting as your big brother.

Even though you don’t need a big brother—you’ve told him this a thousand times, insisted that since you’ve always been on your own, you can handle yourself. You’re only two years younger than him, a sophomore to his senior in college.

You’re independent, which Kyojuro appreciates. But you’re so pretty and always so alone. Alone at parties, smiling in the corner, fending off boys with impure intentions. Alone at the library, working tirelessly toward your degree. Alone in your apartment, sleeping in empty sheets.

He can’t stand the thought of you being alone. You need him. You’re a moon without a sun.

So Kyojuro determines the only way for you to let him in completely is to give you what all pretty, lonely girls desire—to be fucked stupid.

“Hello!” he announces at your door late on a Saturday night. He’s not surprised that you slam the door in his face upon recognizing his golden hair and flaming voice.

Persistent, he knocks again, telling the seam of the door that he’s brought food.

It takes a few moments, but your door creaks open again, slowly, hesitantly, as if you’re afraid he’s just going to rush inside. He does.

“Finals are just around the corner and I wanted to make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

As he takes purposeful steps toward your kitchen, Kyojuro takes note of your apartment. Everything is clean, cute. There are scented candles burning and he can smell the remnants of a hot shower, steam and hints of vanilla and rose swirling in the air. Your television is paused on some Netflix show, a cozy blanket half strewn over the couch. Good, you’re indulging in self-care.

“I’m doing just fine on my own, thanks.”

“And that’s the problem!” He pulls fresh, hot food from the paper bag he’s brought as he speaks, setting containers of potato miso soup—of course he would bring you his favorite, you deserve nothing less—and various other comforting snacks on your countertops. “You don’t have to do everything on your own when you have me.”

You follow him to the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed. You weren’t prepared for company, only dressed in a pair of soft shorts and a tank-top with no bra. He notices how you’re covering yourself, pressing your tits down and out of sight, hiding the sight of hard nipples. You’re alluring in the soft light; all smooth, dewy skin and sensual curves that would make any man weep.

“Thanks,” you sigh, “and sorry about trying to shut you out. I’m just not used to having a…a brother, or whatever you are.”

“Well, I’m happy to show you what big brothers are for.”

Even as you both sit to eat, you eye him like you don’t trust him. The problem is that you don’t know him. Even after a few years of being family, you’ve never given him the time of day to show you who he really is, how caring he is. Which is why he’s determined to sink beneath your skin tonight, open you like a parched flower to rain.

“You really don’t have to stay,” you mumble over a spoonful, still watching him with catlike perception.

“Why? Did you have other plans?” He looks around dramatically, long hair swishing as he makes the point.

“Kyojuro…I like being alone. It’s addictive, in a way. I like being able to do whatever I want, whenever I want. And I appreciate that you want to be some heroic big bro, but I don’t need you to do that.”

“Don’t you get lonely?” he says with a heavy knife’s edge of sincerity. The words slice through the calm and make you bristle.

“Everyone gets lonely. It’s human nature.”

“Well, you don’t have to be lonely,” he stands to begin cleaning, stopping next to your chair to pat your head softly. “Not with me around.”

He keeps his palm on your head for a moment longer, making you look up at him through your lashes with a concoction of emotion. Anger is present, anger that he’s here, once again attempting to push into your life. But there’s also a hint of adoration, a welling shine that gives him hope.

For you, it’s hard not to be sucked into the gravity well that is Kyojuro Rengoku. He’s blazing warmth and heartfelt smiles, with an eccentricity that is equal parts curious and lovable. He’s the promise of comfort, an assurance of safety. He’s big and strong and far too handsome for his own good—every girl at your university wants him and it’s hard not to fall prey to his blunt charm.

But you’ve always found solace in yourself, only ever trusted yourself. It’s hard to put your trust into anyone, even someone with such a pleasing disposition.

“What movie do you wanna watch?” There’s no question as to whether you want to do such a thing and spend more time with him. It’s a given for him. You’ve let him in, so now he’s going to stay.

“I’m not picky,” you rummage around the kitchen as he slinks into the living room, “just put on whatever you want.”

When you’ve taken enough time to steel yourself, taking deep breaths to calm your shot nerves of your expected alone time being overtaken, you return to him.

Kyojuro has taken residence on your small couch, stout legs spread across the cushions. He’s big in your space, muscular and barrel-chested as one arm hangs across the back of the couch. Like you, he’s casual tonight, gray sweatpants and a tight black t-shirt with the Slayer University emblem on his chest.

With a beaming, almost sheepish smile, he pats his stocky thigh in invitation.

“No,” you hiss.

“Oh, come on! I bet you haven’t had a good, old-fashioned cuddle in a long time.”

The startled look on your face confirms his thoughts.

He’s perceptive, it’s what has made him a great college athlete. He knows you well enough to be aware that you’re no fumbling virgin; you prefer one-night stands, in and out sexual gratification with no messy strings of feelings wrapped around your heart. But that means when it comes to gentle, caring human contact, you’re absolutely touch-starved. He wants to give you what no one else can—the warm, comforting embrace of a brother.

Like an offering, he holds his hand out to you. Palm up, big fingers barely curved and beckoning come here.

You mumble something under your breath, some curse against god, but you take his hand anyway.

Your bodies meld together easily. Your softness melts against his muscles, your ass settling between his spread thighs and your legs draping over one of his. Enthusiastically, he wraps an arm around your shoulders and squishes your cheek against his plush chest.

“See? This is nice!” He beams, proud and loud and practically stewing in happiness.

Shifting a bit to find comfort, you settle on having your hands against his chest, his steady heart beating against your fingertips, ringing in the ear he’s trapped against him.

“Yeah,” your voice is muffled against his brawn, “it’s alright.”

It’s more than alright. Kyojuro can feel the tension in your shoulders fade as he runs his fingers along your arm, up and down, back and forth, a gentle sweeping of touch. You sink deeper into him as he scrolls aimlessly through the streaming platform, nuzzling your head against his chest. You’re quiet, but that’s alright. He just wants you to feel comfortable and realize that you’re safe with him.

He decides on something simple to watch, some nature documentary he’s already seen before as background noise. He doesn’t care what plays; all his attention is set on you.

Fingertips trail up your neck, his thumb caressing your jaw. He expected you to squirm a bit, perhaps protest, but you are content to just curl up against him and hum.

“Feel good?”

“Mhm, yeah. Guess I could get used to this.”

Kyojuro takes the initiative of pulling you in even closer, big hand dipping to your waist and shoving you against his body. His fingers spread wide, his thumb presses against the fat of your breast, his middle finger curving against the underside. His instincts tell him to squeeze, but he presses his teeth together and flexes his jaw to stop himself.

You’re not naive. Your senses are on high alert being pressed against his big, warm body, and you’re acutely aware of his touch against your breast. Instead of slithering away from him, you coil yourself against him tighter. One of your hands slides up his chest, wrinkling his soft t-shirt as your fingers come to rest on his neck, right at his pulse.

“Kyo…” you whisper, turning your cheek to look up at him. He stares down at you a little too intently, honey and ruby eyes waiting, watching. “Why did you come here tonight?”

“To be a good big brother,” he answers immediately.

“So good little sisters just get food and cuddles? Nothing else?” You’re teasing him, one of your manicured nails tapping at the side of his full lips.

He’ll give you whatever you want, whatever it takes to open you to him, let him be part of your life, part of you.

“I’ll give you anything you want. Name it, and it’s yours.”

His heart is pounding in his ribcage as you move in his lap, straddling his waist. Your tits press against his chest, your cunt nestled against the ridge of his hardening cock that he can’t keep hidden in his sweats.

You play with the long hair that frames his face, twirling red tips between your fingers.

“We really shouldn’t…”

Your lips brush against his, just out of reach, hips rocking against him.

“But we definitely should, right?”

“We tell no one,” you warn.

“Our little secret.”

He takes the initiative, running his hot hands up your sides, feeling every dip and curve as he settles his palms on your tits. Thumbs roll over your already hard nipples, bushy eyebrows pulling up in delight as you give him your first moan.

One hand drags to your face, thick fingers squishing into your cheeks as he pulls your mouth closer to his.

“Let me show you what big brothers are for, darling.”

His kiss is like fire, all consuming, powerful. He slides his tongue into your mouth without prompting, cock growing fully hard when you respond in earnest. Your hands cup his face as you moan into his mouth, tongue tangling with his as you grind into his lap. He wanted you to be enthusiastic, but this—this is heaven.

Just a few touches and you’re already melting to his flames, ready to be burned.

He knew such a pretty, lonely thing just needed to be fucked. And he’ll fuck you just right, in all the ways you’ve ever desired. That’s what he’s here for—to provide in all the ways no other man can.

“Off,” you whisper into his mouth, fingernails plucking at his shirt. “Take this off.”

He breaks away from you for just an instant, grabbing his shirt behind his neck and ripping the fabric away from his heated skin. He does the same for you, tossing your tank top over your head so your tits can spill out in front of his face.

“You’re beautiful,” he says in quick reverence, leaning forward to lick one of your nipples into his mouth. His hands are rough, one gripping into your ribs and pushing you down into the couch cushions while the other kneads into the flesh of the breast in his mouth.

You moan and squeak at his actions, making room for him to settle between your spread legs. His weight is so heavy between your thighs. He feels like passion, like a promise.

“Have you been taking care of yourself?” he asks rather sternly, spit dripping from his lips as he moves from one breast to the other.

You flush hot; he can feel how your skin reacts to him.

“Wha…what do you mean?”

As his teeth delicately scrape against your nipple, he flashes his eyes up at you over the curve of your tits. You know exactly what he means.

“I…” you trail off, suddenly bashful even as you press your pussy closer to him, finding relief by rubbing your dampening folds against the hard ridge of his cock.

Kyojuro mumbles your name into your skin, “How do you make yourself cum?”

The question is genuine. He needs to know. He wants to know how to please you, he wants to know if you really do take care of yourself.

“Oh god,” you groan and throw your arm over your eyes, whimpering as he takes your tits in both hands and squeezes. “I…fuck, I have toys.”

“Do you? What kind?” He trails his mouth lower, relishing how your hips buck one last time, searching for his cock, as he moves himself down your body.

“I—” you suck in a deep breath as he hooks his fingers in your sopping little shorts, tugging the material down your thighs. “I h-have a vibrator, but mostly I j-just use a big dildo. I…I like to feel full.”

“I’ll make you feel full, darling. I promise.”

He spreads you open, one of your legs dangling off the couch and the other propped against the back cushion. Your pussy is already sloppy, slick and wet in anticipation of him. He shoves his golden head between your thighs, using his thumbs to spread apart your folds and just look at you. You’re perfect—such a perfect little step-sister indeed.

“It’s amazing how wet you are for me.” The praise makes you mewl, hips wiggling as one of your hands tangles in his long mane of hair. He can feel your temptation to tug him closer, nails pressing into his scalp.

But the sight of your plush thighs spread wide gives him such a tempting thought, one he can’t deny.

“I want you to sit on my face.” He pulls himself away from you, big shoulders rolling as he sits up onto his knees. He rubs his drooling, aching cock through his pants at the sight of you spread naked below him.

“But you were already right there,” you huff and sit up, shooting him that angry glare he loves so much.

“I know, I know,” he grins, “but I want your thighs smothering me. So, sit on me fully, yeah? No hovering.”

You nod in agreement as he sits on the floor, laying his head back and flat against the cushions, thick neck tilted back. You don’t hesitate to throw your leg across his pretty face, letting his lips ghost along your skin as you settle your hips above him. He locks his brawny arms around your legs, eager to bring your wet cunt to his mouth.

He groans in ecstasy as your weight presses down against him, your pussy sweet against his lips as he takes his time to flatten his tongue and draw one long, hot stripe through your folds.

Immediately his eyes flare open, catching your gaze from up above.

“Fuck you’re…tasty.”

His face feels too good smothered between the flesh of your thighs, lips and tongue hungry within your folds. Strong hands are careful not to bruise your skin, pulling your weight farther down onto his face until he’s drowning in you.

Your head hangs low as jolts of white-hot heat spread from where his mouth is working at you, playing with you, tongue painting long, broad strokes up and down your pussy. Your thighs begin to shake and he takes it as a sign of triumph, eagerly eating more and more. Your cunt is syrupy and hot, dripping down onto his tongue and his cheeks.

If he suffocated here and now, he’d die a happy man between your legs.

One of his hands falls to his lap, fisting at his dripping cock, red and angry and still begging for release against the blonde, downy hair of his stomach. Sticky pre-cum leaks from his flushed head, pooling into his skin and clothes as his cock bobs and twitches at the sounds of your moans. Quickly, he lifts his hips just enough to pull his cock free, hand wrapping around his throbbing skin to pump his shaft to the rhythm of his tongue inside of you.

“Oh, oh fuck,” you press your lips together, stomach pulling tight as his tongue thrusts up inside of you, “fuck, fuck, fuck that’s so good, Kyo,” it is all a messy whisper, just hot air blown into the dimly lit room.

Your hips jerk and roll from his ministrations, bursts of pleasure spreading over your nerves like hot, rippling webs beneath your skin. His tongue presses against your tight hole, gathering the mess of your slick onto his tongue and drinking like a man parched.

His tongue soothes over you, lapping slowly and pulling you away from the churning coil within your belly. He wants you to savor this, to beg for him, beg for your big brother to let you cum on his face.

“Please,” your voice is wavering as his lips move against your folds, “p-please, suck my clit, make me cum.”

His cock twitches with every plea.

You double over in pleasure as he heads your plea, nails scraping into the couch as you cling on for dear life. His tongue swirls over your clit quickly and with fervor, tight circles to make your vision go blurry. He’s always been proud of how well he eats pussy, and he’s never enjoyed one more than yours.

He squeezes the base of his cock to keep himself from cumming, letting his dick throb and pulse in anticipation of being inside your sweet cunt.

You’re getting closer to the edge with every curl of his tongue, the tip of it fast and hurried as he licks against your swollen clit. Kyojuro feels as if he is on fire and drowning all at the same time, lungs struggling to take in just enough air to keep himself above the surface of bliss.

The noises he makes are suppressed, being soaked up by your cunt. The vibrations from his mouth only add to your building delight, making your hips become more desperate. Continuous moans of your own spill down over your bodies, whimpers and a line of “please, please, please.”

He purrs into your flesh, “Who do you want to make you cum, darling? Say my name.”

Kyojuro can feel you sinking, each purposeful lick against your pussy sending you deeper and deeper into a pleasant abyss. His tongue is far too skilled; he knows exactly how to lap and kiss at you to keep your body shaking and wanting, all his attention centered around the tight bundle of nerves that has your belly tightening over and over again.

“Kyo–Kyojuro!” you all but scream, thighs pressing in closer to his head, his long hair sticking to the sweat of your skin.

“You can do better.”

The look on your face above him is priceless, nearly fucked out already and all you’ve had of him is his tongue.

“Fuck!” You squeeze your eyes closed as pleasure overtakes you, now riding his face as you chase your high. “Oh, oh Kyo, please, big brother please.”

Your orgasm spills onto his cheeks as you find your release, ecstasy blooming from where his mouth is still relentlessly licking between your folds. Your walls clench and unclench, looking for the fat cock that should be filling your needy cunt. Your sanity momentarily slips away, mind and body overwhelmed with the feeling of him, of your fucking step-brother between your thighs.

Then, you fall, chest pressing into the couch and hips lifting so you don’t actually crush Kyojuro’s pretty face beneath you.

Kyojuro laughs triumphantly as he slips from between your legs, wrapping you in his arms so you can cling to him in your post-orgasmic high. He pulls you back into his lap, grunting as your messy cunt brushes against his still aching cock.

“You’re so good,” he kisses your forehead, hand petting over your hair as you bury your face into his neck, “you’re such a good girl, you know that?”

He keeps you engulfed in his brawn as you whimper, naked chest pressed against his.

When you pull back to look at him, your eyes are blazing, full of passion that mimics his own.

“I need you inside me, Kyo,” you whisper, pulling his lips down to yours for a sloppy kiss. You moan at the taste of yourself in his mouth, nails gripping into his muscles.

“Your wish is my command!” He beams with pride as he stands, throwing your naked body over his shoulder as he kicks off the rest of his pants and marches for your bedroom.

“Kyo!” You cough at his broad shoulder pressing into your stomach. “We could’ve just fucked on the couch.”

“Absolutely not!” He slams open your bedroom door with perhaps too much enthusiasm, the doorknob wailing against the wall. “Not when there’s a perfectly good bed to take you in.”

With his unparalleled strength, he easily manhandles you onto the bed, flipping you onto your hands and knees.

There’s no pause, no moment to breathe. Kyojuro is fast and sure with his movements, pulling you back by your hips and sinking you down onto his thick cock.

It’s hard for him not to just slam into you, his need for you seeping out of every pore and tensing every muscle. But he refrains, using you slowly, letting you sink back inch by inch on his throbbing cock.

The sound you make is divine, one of pure relief and satisfaction of finally being stuffed full. Your cunt sucks him in tightly, a wet vice clenching against the pulsing veins of his cock.

He groans as he finally bottoms out inside of you, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of your pussy spread around him. You’ve finally let him in, let him break down your barriers and open yourself up to him in the most vulnerable of ways.

There is a warm burn from the way he stretches your pussy, sending your eyes rolling back as you suck in a deep breath. He stays still. He keeps himself sheathed deep inside of you, letting you feel the thickness of his cock, the heaviness of his thighs against yours.

“Better than your toys?” he asks, hands sliding up your sides to toy with your dangling tits, plucking at your puffy nipples.

“So much better, Kyo. You feel so fucking good.”

He cants his hips gently, pulling out just a bit before bullying back inside your depths.

“Yeah? You like feeling full with my cock inside you?”

Your head nods against the pillows, your hips wiggling back for more.

Kyojuro leans over your back as he grinds into your gummy core, kissing your shoulder blades and rocking against you. The need to protect, to provide, swells in his chest as you mewl for him.

“Gonna make you feel so good, darling. Gonna take such good care of you, promise.”

Flaming hair falls into his face as he pulls back, hands anchoring to your hips. His appetite for you is raging hotter than any fire he has ever conjured in his soul; he is bewitched, the sinful arch of your back imploring him to go deeper, to forget any inhibitions and become enraptured by your body. But still yet, he wants to savor you, to etch the vision before him into his memory, to play the sweet professions your lips spoke earlier on repeat. Oh, big brother, please.

The mattress dips under his heavy weight, causing your knees to spread farther into the divots created by his wake. A strong hand steadies you, thumb petting over your backside with care. He begins a steady pace, eyes gleaming as he watches your ass cheeks bounce against the slap of his skin against yours.

Heavy balls smack against your clit, making your body twitch with little shocks of bliss with every thrust.

“That’s a good girl,” he praises, “you feel so good wrapped around my cock. So fucking tight, all for me, right?”

“For you,” you choke out between plunges of his cock. “All for you, big brother.”

He knows you’re saying it just to turn him on—before tonight, you hardly ever called him brother, but now you’re far closer than two step-siblings ever should be. That thought makes him ache, heart pooling with pride.

He’s the best big brother, he can give you more happiness than anyone else.

One of his hands abandons your hip. His thick arm reaches forward and tangles in your hair, jerking your head back as he doubles down on his pace. Curses tumble out of your mouth now, free falling into the air and encouraging him to fuck you more recklessly. The fingers in your hair pull and tug gently, twisting and making you moan.

He’s rutting against you like you’re a bitch in heat, like the only thing that can bring you absolution is your step-brother’s cock. Your lust spills over into garbled moans of his name.

He pulls you up higher, leaning forward to capture your shoulder between his teeth. The bite is soft, just enough to mark you and make your body shiver from gentle pricks of pain. His body rocks against yours, over, and over, and over again. His cock rams so deep inside of you that he feels as if he’s fucking into your throat.

“You like getting fucked by big brother, yeah? Like how good I make you feel?” He growls into your neck, his hand on your hip still crushing you against him.

“Oh my god!” you cry out, hands flying to your breasts as you begin edging up the mountain of climax.

“Fuck, you’re sucking me in so tight, you gonna cum for me? Gonna cum just from my cock inside of you?”

His cock is unforgiving, plunging into you with reckless abandon as he keeps a tight pull on your hair. You feel so weak against him, so used by his massive body and hands, your cunt throbbing with every push of his cock, begging for release.

Every fresh plunge of his cock inside of you is wet, sloppy, squelching out into the darkness of your room.

Your bodies are passionate flames burning against each other, skin against skin and flesh into flesh. He’s mesmerized by you, how soft you are when you’re vulnerable, how your hands reach back for him and your nails scrape against his skin like you need him.

Kyojuro begins thrusting harder, more erratic than before. The lewd sound of your slick coating his cock gushes with every plunge. God, he feels so good, so full of passion above you, taking you like you truly belong to him, like he’s spoiling you rotten like every little sister deserves.

He lets go of your hair, your upper body falling back against the mattress. Your fingers twist in the sheets, your hips finding his rhythm and bouncing back against him with every thrust.

“Fuck, fuck, Kyo, fuck don’t stop, please, wanna cum on your cock!” Your pleas are muffled by the pillows in your face.

His hand slides to the back of your neck, fingers pressing against the delicate sides of your throat. You groan into the sheets at the feeling of his thick fingers pressing against your pulse. He can feel the power within his thighs as he slams into you, his cock buried so deep that he’s sure you will feel its ghost lingering within you for weeks to come.

Your sensitive clit aches from his balls barreling against you, your legs nearly crumpling from his weight behind you. He is wavering, coming close to the edge. His movements are slowing, finding that perfect pace to finally feel you come undone around him.

And then he finally feels it, the intoxicating suction of your cunt as you orgasm. The world stops for you as you scream his name over and over again, the milking compression of your pussy nearly enough to have him bursting his load inside of you. But he holds himself back, not ready to be done with you.

“You alright, darling?” He runs his fingers down your back tenderly, smiling as he feels the aftershocks of pleasure racing down your spine.

Your cunt flexes around him, clamping down like you’re sucking the last thread of orgasm into your body.

“God you’re so thick, Kyo. You h-have no idea how good you feel inside me, holy shit.”

He chuckles, slowly pulling his cock out of you, only to slam back in to hear you scream.

“Wanna watch your face as I fuck you,” he groans, pulling at your body and slipping out of you for only a moment before sliding back in again.

Your face is blissed out, lashes wet and lips swollen. He brushes his thumb over the apple of your cheek as he begins a new pace, softer and deeper as he curls one of your legs against your chest.

“You still feel good? Cause you’re so fucking pretty like this, love watching you take my cock.”

He knows you’re a little too full, too fucked out to answer, cunt stuffed so snugly around his cock he can feel every drag of your inner muscles. Keen, multicolored eyes admire how your flesh parts for him, drags along his length, coats his heavy cock with fresh cream with every push.

He won’t last long like this. Not with you whimpering, your hands pulling at his hair, bringing him down to kiss you like the world will end if you don’t taste him right this second.

“You’re mine to take care of you, know that, right?” he mumbles against your wet lips as you nod in earnest.

“God,” you groan as he pushes in deep, “you can take care of me any time, please god, as long as you make me feel this fucking good.”

Kyjuro sits back and hooks both of your knees over his strong arms, practically folding you in half as your hips roll back on the bed to take the power of his thrusts.

“No more shutting the door on me, yeah? Big brother can have you whenever he wants.”

“Yes, promise, promise.”

“Good girl. Can I cum inside you, darling?”

For a moment you look fearful, like the realization has just slapped in the face that your step-brother is just moments away from creaming inside your tight cunt. But quickly your attitude shifts, your hands moving to the backs of your thighs to help keep yourself spread for him.

“Please, Kyo, fuck wanna you feel you cum inside me. It’s all I want.”

Your affirmation makes his chest burn, like the sun is getting ready to burst within him.

He has you. You’ll never be alone again, you’ll always have your big brother beside you, inside you.

He finds the perfect pace, the one that has your walls sucking him just right, the tip of his cock curving against the spongy spot inside you that feels so fucking good. Your tits are bouncing with every push of his hips, your head thrown back against the pillows and his name on your lips like a permanent stain.

You’ve been his heaven in hiding, haven’t you? So close but just out of reach. But now he has you, and he’s never letting go.

From this angle, he can see his length inside you, just barely. He can see his cockhead deep in your belly, bulging every time he plunges deep inside you. Fuck, he’s inside you, making your cunt his, pleasing you so well you can barely speak.

Something primal kicks in his chest, in his brain, and he lets out a final, long groan as he comes undone inside of you. Hot streams of cum fill your tight cunt, spurting down the sides of his cock where your pussy clings to him. His thick cock twitches and throbs at the sight. You moan into the sheets, back arching at feeling so fucking full, so satisfied to have his cum spilling out down your thighs.

After a few moments of shameless staring, he pulls out of you with a hefty sigh.

You whine as you finally get to release your own legs, body stiff from being curled against his.

He falls to the crumpled bed beside you, glorious arms stretching above his head as the swirls of lust finally dissipate. He can hear his own heart thumping in his chest, a steady pitter-patter of hot rain cooling inside of him.

“Mhm, you’ve made quite a mess, Kyo.”

But you don’t seem to mind it, looping one of your legs around his even as cum continues to drool against your skin, sinking into your sheets.

“This isn’t a one-time thing,” he states bluntly, blowing hair out of his face. “You’re far too tasty not to eat again.”

You giggle, leaning over to where you can kiss him lazily, taking the time to really taste him.

“I wouldn’t think so. Family is for life, I suppose.”

His ears burn as you call him family, that prideful, protective feeling welling in his chest again.

“Any time you want me to take care of you, you just call me, okay?”

“I promise, Kyo.”

And he was right. All pretty, lonely girls desire to be fucked until they lose their minds. Even you. You start to call him just about every day, let him walk you to class, even smile when he teases and praises you instead of glowering. You’re his now, his perfect little-step sister, his best kept secret.

Kyojuro couldn’t be prouder to be your big brother.

#rengoku smut #kyojuro smut #kyojuro x reader #rengoku x reader #tw stepcest #kyojuro rengoku #kyojuro rengoku x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #demon slayer kyojuro #demon slayer fanfic #kny fanfic #demon slayer #kyojuro #rengoku

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leighsartworks216 · 5 months

Text

I Come With Knives Pt13

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

I'm depressed, have barely eaten all day, and haven't taken my nightly meds yet. All this to say: this is not proofread. (I will be eating and taking my meds right after I post this)

Warnings: references to slavery, discussions about fears, self-doubt, references to abuse/torture, references to blood/gore/viscera, hurt/comfort, light angst

Word Count: 1,635

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

I Come With Knives Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You probably wouldn’t have agreed if Karlach hadn’t jeered you on. Tensions were high, the Absolute was hanging over your heads like an executioner’s ax - what could it really hurt?

“Close your eyes, little ones. Be still as stone to earth. And remember to breathe.”

Fidgeting uncertainly, you do as she asks, but you reach over and take Astarion’s hand. He’s quick to hold on, and soon it feels like your world has been tilted on its axis.

When you open your eyes, your hand is empty, and you’re no longer at the circus. You seem to be standing somewhere in nature, but it feels… off, somehow. A manufactured illusion. A waterfall, split by rocks, spills into a river. The river creates a divide between you and Astarion, with only a thick log bridging the gap. If the tadpoles weren’t protecting Astarion, one slip and he’d be reduced to nothing. You didn’t like thinking about it.

To your right, the druid stood. “Ah. Glorious. Your bond is sweeter than nature’s dew. I see you. Know you. But do you know one another?”

You share a look with Astarion. Something silent is communicated with just that one glance - don’t tell her anything true. Karlach may have egged you into this, but telling a random stranger your deepest selves didn’t sit right with either of you.

“A tumultuous past haunts you both - the same story with different tellers. The heart is fraught, so let us begin with the joyous.” She looks at Astarion with her glowing eyes. He feels as though she is looking straight through him into the very core of his being. “Astarion, when is your lover happiest?”

Your heart thuds as he contemplates his answer. His eyes study you, a slight crease between his brow. It’s… difficult to allow yourself to be seen. You’ve shown him so much already, allowed him to witness the horrors you faced, but seeing was far different than speaking it aloud. This question wasn’t something so simple as What is their favorite color? It requires an answer that can only be formed through observation. And, gods, you had no idea how he saw you.

He offers a slight grin, though his brow remains tight. He must sense your worry. “Any time they’re with me, of course,” he said haughtily.

You chuckle slightly. It’s not a lie, and from the glimmer in his eye, he knows it. “It’s hard not to be.”

He steps forward on the log when the druid prompts him to. She turns to look at you. “Now I ask you: when is he happiest?”

If he wishes to play this game of half-truths, you’re happy to indulge him. He smiles when he catches that same look shining in your eye. “When he’s elbow deep in gore.”

He chuckled. “Guilty as charged,” he agreed, before leaning in conspiratorially. “Sometimes literally…”

You stepped onto the log. Even if it was an illusion, you worried for a moment about slipping and falling in.

“Your bond beats in pleasure. It is an honor to behold,” the druid waxes. “Many things delight the heart, but only one makes it sing. Tell me, what do they desire more than anything?”

A salacious grin tugs at his lips. You give him a pointed look. Whatever unholy thoughts crossed his mind are tempered, for now. “A glass of wine under the stars.”

“As long as it’s with you.”

He steps forward. Zethino poses the same question to you.

“Revenge.”

“Oh yes!” he exclaims, becoming giddy. “Yes, please.”

You step forward. You could touch him now if you wished, merely an arm’s length away.

“Our touch has been one of sunlight, but now we must ask the deep. The difficult. Fear sits in the soul of all - to tame it, we must name it. What do they fear most?”

He can see the answer in your eyes. Even just posing the question makes you uneasy. You frown, memories flickering within your irises. He wishes to reach out, touch your cheek, assure you he’s here. But something in the druid’s energy tells him he can’t. Instead, he does his best through his answer alone. “Gale’s cooking.”

It startles a laugh out of you, catapulting every horrible, real fear away in an instant. All you can do is nod as your giggles taper off. He takes a small step forward.

“Astarion - what is his deepest fear?”

With a new confidence, a new self-assurance, you grin as you say, “Breaking a nail.”

That, too, shocks a laugh out of him. He makes a show of checking his nails. “Well, when you look this good…”

You take your own small step forward, and you don’t hesitate to take his hand the moment you’re within reach. “Thank you,” you whisper. The words come spilling out before you can stop them, but you mean them so truly. Where he feared having his truth told to strangers, you feared giving your truth any voice. To speak your master’s name was as good as tying a noose ‘round your neck.

He leans his forehead against yours. “Of course, my love.”

The druid sighs, smiling brightly. “I press my finger to your bond and find a shield impenetrable. It is… beautiful. Your love is one few have - cherish it.”

The day is a staggering success, you think. Sure, you had to fight a few cultists, but the aura of contentment around everyone upon the return to camp was reward enough - a few cuts and scrapes weren’t going to dull that anytime soon.

But even as you go about your routine, lighting a new candle you got from a vendor and setting it in the metal pan, listening to Astarion scoff at a poorly thought out plan from a couple thieves he’d overheard, something uncertain clings to the back of your mind. You must not hide it as well as you think, because Astarion sighs and takes your hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing your fingertips.

“What’s on your mind, dove?”

You sit down fully across from him, frowning as you watch him tenderly care for you. “I keep thinking about the druid,” you admit. “The love test.”

“Thank you again for not divulging everything. I trust you with that information, not a random carny.”

“That’s the problem, I think.” You meet his eyes and you look so utterly uncertain. You search for answers in him, trying to find them before you have to speak the questions aloud, but you come up empty. “She asked how well we knew each other, and- and I know it’s silly. I mean, we know each other well enough to skirt around the truth, but…”

He hums. “You’re worried we don’t really know each other as well as she thinks.”

You nod.

“Well, then, there’s only one thing for it. I don’t have a mystical waterfall, but I think we can make do.” He lowers your hand to his lap, and you subconsciously turn your hands over so you can play with his fingers. He smiles at the gesture. “When am I happiest?”

You study him. Your eyes flicker over his face, taking in every minute twitch, slowly but surely putting the truth together. “I don’t think you’ve been happy in a long time,” you whisper.

He grins, but it’s sad. His eyes betray it all. “I’m starting to learn how to,” he assures softly. “You haven’t been either, have you, love?”

You shake your head slightly. You couldn’t recall a time before your slavery where you were happy; all those memories lost to time and torture. But even now, out of arm’s reach from her, joy was fleeting. A moment here and there, stolen from time, but never consistent. “I am happy with you,” you add. “What do I desire most?”

He sighs. The answer is already one he’s familiar with. “Freedom.” He squeezes your hand, eyes sharpening with determination. “And we will be free. Soon, my dear. You can be sure of that.”

The difficult question, the druid was right about that. Neither of you wanted to ask, and neither of you really wanted to tell. But both of you stayed there, waiting for the shoe to drop.

“Your deepest fear,” you begin, quietly, “is forever feeling like a slave to someone else.”

“Is that yours, too?”

You tear your eyes away to watch as you lightly thumb at the blunt edges of his nails, trailing from one finger to the next. His nails were always so well kept and tidy despite the dirt and viscera that haunted your daily lives. “It used to be. Now…” You inhale shakily. “I’ve made so many wonderful friends. And I’m terrified to go back to- to her. But losing all this - losing you - scares me more than anything.”

He frowns. He can’t say you won’t lose them. This mission you’ve found yourselves on is dangerous; you risk your lives every single day. And once it ends, it’s a terrible truth that everyone will go their own separate ways.

What he can do is bring your hand back to his lips and press a kiss to your palm. He can close your fingers around it and get you to hold that symbol of his love safely. And maybe that’s all he needs to do. Really, what could he possibly say? Any assurance would be like rubbing salve on an arrow still embedded in your side.

And perhaps it’s enough, because you lean forward and wrap your arms around his waist, and he wraps his around your shoulders and back, pulling you close. He’s determined to find better answers to the questions, one day. You both will find consistent happiness, and desire something as simple as a good book. And you won’t be afraid of being alone again.

One day.

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @phantoms-fandom-blog @thespectacularspaceace @lynnlovesthestars @sylverqueencosplay @tototini @ashrio20 @bambamwolf87 @astarion-imagine-archive @thistrashisreadytobash @rosxtinted @bongwaterflavoredgatorade @the-lake-is-calling @nyxmainex @squid-killer

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tartigglez · 1 year

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"i know it hurts..."

headcanons of some genshin boys when you have your period (pt.1??)

kaeya, diluc, thoma, childe, zhongli (separately) x afab!reader (pronouns not mentioned)

genre: fluff

word count: 800-ish

tags: periods, no distinct mention of blood, wholesome boys (for the most part), a lottttt of physical touch + petnames, kaeya is teehee, diluc is clueless as shit, thoma is absolutely whipped, childe is also clueless, zhongli is wayyyyy clued in

tw/cw: zhongli is written as genderfluid, mentions of foods/drink (soup + tea), kisses in zhongli's, i don't think there's much else to add here, lmk if i missed smth

a/n: surprise? hi! i've had a very emotional night, so its time for something extremely self indulgent. i wrote this mostly for the genderfluid zhongli agenda. also i'd like to remind everyone that i am genderfluid, my pronouns are they/she/he!!! ty, enjoy.

kaeya’s personality seems to go through some sort of shift when you’re on your period, seriously! he’ll go from being a flirty, unserious captain with an eye catching smirk to a kind, gentle, soft spoken man. he will quietly hold you if you’re in pain, and try his best to distract you. will kiss you softly and assure you that it will pass, without ever making you feel like you’re exaggerating. strokes your cheek and does whatever you want to do in order to stay distracted.

“darling? are you alright? are you sick?”

“no, just cramps.”

“ahh, here.”

“how does this feel? you okay? comfy?”

“yeah, I’m okay. thanks kae”

“not a problem at all, lovely”

“so, how was work?

diluc is lowkey confused at first in your relationship. he’s never spent much time around anyone who has a period, let alone having to live with one, so it makes sense (a little) that he really doesn’t understand anything that’s happening to you, or what hurts, or why, or how he can help. the first time he finds you curled up in his bedroom in dawn winery he’ll be really confused and awkward, run to adelinde and try to very discreetly ask her what to do (he doesn’t do a good job), but eventually she gets what he means, and tells him to just ask you, which he builds the confidence to do after hyping himself up for like twenty minutes.

“hi”

“hi, 'luc”

“uh… are you okay?”

“ish?”

“uhm… may i talk to you about something?”

“yeah, of course! what’s up?”

“what is… happening to you right now? it’s painful, i know, but how do i help? what do i do? what do you need? how can i make you comfortable? i don’t want you to be in pain.”

“pah, how sweet. come, sit, i’ll explain”

thoma knows exactly what is going on, and when its going on. keeps track of your periods (with your knowledge and consent ofc) just so he knows what days to bring you whatever you may need. he’s a BIG BIG acts of service and gift giving kinda guy, because he’s always in the city, so he always picks things up for you. this happens even more when you’re on your period. of course, sometimes, his estimates of your starting days will be a little bit off, so he might end up randomly doing something and it seems like its out of nowhere, and he tries to play it off like it is too.

“thoma? what’re you doing home this early?”

“oh, I thought i’d come home and make you soup!”

“make me… soup? that’s a little strange…”

“no it’s not! it's just because i thought you liked it, especially when…y’know”

“hah, your guess was off darling, you’re two days early. still, i appreciate the thought love. let’s eat?”

childe is clueless. extremely clueless. but he’s also super duper sweet, and a very fast learner. he tries his best to understand what’s happening and what to do, but unfortunately he doesn’t really have anyone to ask about it. so he’ll literally read a book, which is rather rare for him but he would literally do anything for you. if you’re feeling really unwell, he will insist on taking the day off work to look after you. he’s extremely attentive and gentle, which is the side of him his “co-workers” don’t get to see.

“morning baby! how’re you feeling?”

“mmhh,, morning chi. ‘m okay, a bit crampy”

“okay, i’ll stay here then.”

“what? no, you have work. you gotta go!”

“i’ll call in sick, they can live without me for a day”

“chi you can’t do this agai-”

“i’d do anything for you”

zhongli. understands. everything. okay hear me out. zhongli can take any form he wants, so sometimes out of curiosity he would change into another body. he’d get completely, utterly shocked the first time he got a period whilst in this form (it was unexpected.), but learned how to cope with it, because he wanted to be able to fully understand the struggles that some mortals might go through.

he knows exactly what to do when this happens to you, speaks to you calmly and holds you if you get cramps. will brew tea for you, and get the latest herb combinations for pain relief from baizhu. will snuggle up to you, place his hand on your stomach because it’s warm, and hold you close. kisses your neck gently and asks if you need anything, overall just a big sweetie. if you want him to, he’ll go into his half-dragon form, so he can wrap his tail around you. loves you more than anything and will do anything to make you comfortable. you need something? it’s yours, no matter the extremes he has to go to in order to get it. constantly making sure you take your time with everything, and making sure that you don’t overexert yourself.

“my love, i know you’re in pain, please don’t push yourself”

“i know, i know, i just have a little more work to do”

“i trust you, but i’m staying here with you, just in case. have you eaten? are you comfortable? do you need any pain relief?”

#childe fluff #zhongli fluff #thoma fluff #kaeya fluff #diluc fluff #genshin headcanons #genshin impact #genshin x reader

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missmaniac25 · 7 months

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Ateez: Scenarios with your necklaces

Heavily inspired by this smau by @ronnierites (hi friend, if you want to not be tagged but leave the link, let me know please❤️) and also my own self indulgence because I wear necklaces. Each member's blurb is between 280 and 320 words but here's a tl;dr:

Hongjoong: getting the clasp fixed Seonghwa: moving the clasp to the back of your neck Yunho: untangling them from each other Yeosang: pulling them out so the charm can be seen San: taking them to get cleaned Mingi: fiddling with the charm/s Wooyoung: detangling them from his own necklace Jongho: keeping them safe (in a special bag) when you have to take them off

Hongjoong: “It’s not that bad,” you tell him over the phone. “I’ll just have to find some time to go to the jewellers. Just an inconvenience really.”

Hongjoong is listening as best as he can on his end with the noise that’s around him. He’s gotten ‘necklace broken’, ‘not bad’ and ‘inconvenience’.

“Babe, don’t stress about it.” He’s interrupted by the rest of the members ‘ooo-ing’ at his words. “I’ll sort it out for you.”

And sort it out he does. It’s a week later when you’re chilling at the dorms with him that you bring it up again.

“Arg. I still need to take my necklace in to get fixed,” you gripe, running your hands over your face.

“No, you don’t,” Hongjoong says from beside you. He reaches to his bedside table, retrieving a small pouch which he hands to you.

In your confused state, you open the little pouch and tip the contents out, only to be met with your own necklace. As you hold it up, you can clearly see that it’s now in one piece as opposed to when you last saw it laying on your chest of drawers.

“But…” You stop, unable to think clearly.

Hongjoong takes the opportunity to defend himself.

“Yes, maybe I stole your necklace but it’s fixed so now you can wear it again. And I got the little bag so that I wouldn’t lose it because I know you…”

He’s stopped short as you place a kiss to his lips.

“Thank you,” you tell your boyfriend. “You really didn’t have to. I know how busy you are.”

He smiles and snuggles a bit closer.

“Never too busy to help you.”

Seonghwa:

Seonghwa loves your necklaces. He loves when they catch the light and he has an excuse to look at your neck. He thinks they look so elegant on you and just… are you. But one thing he doesn’t like about the necklaces is when they don’t cooperate. You couldn’t be bothered to always have them with the clasp at the back because you know that sooner or later it’ll naturally move to the front again.

Seonghwa however, is annoyed by it. He likes when your necklaces look neat, so he’s made it his life’s mission to always, always move the clasp to the back of your neck.

“Love, come here.”

Seonghwa’s voice is calm but you can already tell what’s coming. You walk over, moving your hair out of the way.

“Alright, Mr Perfectionist, get it over with.”

“But… I didn’t even say anything…”

You just give him a pointed look and he relents. He stands up, places himself in front of you and easily locates the clasp. He holds it in one hand and in the other, the charm. Like he’s done a thousand times before, he slides the clasp back before gently placing it down. He has a very self-satisfied look on his face. You pat him on the cheek before returning to whatever it was you were doing before.

Sometimes he just does it without even saying anything which is only a problem when his hands are cold.

Yunho:

Spending time with Yunho is always fun and relaxing but sleepovers have to be your favourite activity with him. It really is like having a slumber party with your best friend: you guys get takeout, watch movies and stay up talking until the early hours of the morning. And, of course, waking up next to him is a great bonus.

“Mmmm… morning,” Yunho says softly; his morning voice is to die for.

You roll over to peak at him with one eye, really hoping that he’ll agree to going back to sleep alongside you.

He smiles and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before lying back down next to you. His eyes look over every detail, taking in every inch of you that he can. He wants to commit it all to memory.

It doesn’t take long for the both of you to end up wrapped in each other’s arms again, sometimes awake, sometimes asleep. It doesn’t really matter. It’s almost an hour later when you both finally decide to sit up and face the day.

“Morning,” you say, stretching your arms over your head.

“Morning, love.” Yunho smiles lazily at you and something catches his eye.

Very carefully, he pulls your necklaces out from your shirt, noticing how they’ve tangled around themselves. Then with a serious look of concentration on his face, Yunho begins the detangling process.

Normally, you would just let them be until later in the day but you don’t want to disturb him. Plus, he looks cute when he’s thinking hard. His fingers sometimes brush against the skin of your neck, tickling you slightly.

Finally, Yunho lets them rest again on your chest before looking back to you. When his eyes reach yours, he smiles and you can’t but smile and giggle at him.

If you could wake up like this every day with him, you would.

Yeosang:

Yeosang thinks that your necklaces are perfect, just like you. He loves when they catch the light and sparkle just a little, making you seem like you’re straight out of a fairytale. So, because of this, Yeosang likes them to be seen (mostly by him) which means he has a tendency to just pull them out from under your shirt at random times. Not that it’s entirely a bad thing. It’s just that the action feels very intimate to you – the way his fingertips dance over your neck as he gently pulls on the chain; his eyes focused until the charms are resting neatly on your clothes.

Time and place, is all you’re really asking him to consider.

You sit with Yeosang at the dorm, along with most of the other members who decided that this was a place to be today. Mingi, Yunho and Wooyoung all sit in the lounge with you two - talking, looking at their phones, whatever. It’s only when you feel Yeosang’s fingers brush against your skin that you realise he wants to do.

“Yeo, please just leave it.”

Your words attract the attention of the others in the room, their heads shooting up to see what’s happening.

“I just want to fix your necklaces,” he says as he works.

“They’re fine, leave them.”

Yeosang looks at you, somewhat confused. You try your best to be discrete as you motion to the three musketeers. Wooyoung already has a cheeky smile on his face, and Yunho and Mingi are eyeing each other.

“Just,” you try to backtrack. “Not here.”

Your words swim around his head before he stands up and grabs your hand, pulling you down the hallway. The calamity of noise that follows you is not unnoticed.

Once behind a closed door, Yeosang returns to what he was doing without even pausing and as he gently places the charms to rest on your shirt, you can’t help but smile. He may be confused, but at least he’s still considerate.

San:

San is always looking out for others and his partner is no exception to this. He’s always finding ways to make your life easier or to simply spoil you. So, you’re not entirely shocked when he bounces into the room one day with a smile on his face and says:

“I need you to give me your necklaces, I want to do something for you.”

Now, you love San but that is a rather strange and vague request. You can’t help the hesitancy in your voice as you reply.

“What exactly do you want to do?” Your hand goes to touch the metal around your neck.

“Please just trust me.” He pouts and you know you can’t resist.

You sigh as you carefully remove your necklaces and give them to San, who can’t stop smiling.

“You won’t regret this, I promise.”

It’s three days later when you see San again. He still has a smug smile on his face that doesn’t even go away when you kiss him ‘hello’.

“So…?” You prompt, hoping to finally get some answers out of him.

Proudly, he holds out a little bag with the name of a local jeweller on it. To say that you’re confused would be an understatement, nevertheless you take it and open it. Inside you can see your necklaces but something seems a little bit different although you can’t place your finger on it.

“I got them professionally cleaned for you!” San finally announces, and you melt inside.

“Sannie, you didn’t have to do that,” you chide.

“I know,” he says, taking the bag back and helping you to put your necklaces back on. “But I wanted to. And I know how much they mean to you so it felt like the right thing to do.”

You smile and hug him tightly, not that he minds one bit. “What did I do to deserve you, Sannie?”

Mingi:

Mingi is a nervous person. He doesn’t often let it show but he is. It’s just that his nerves manifest quietly, in a way. You notice it in the little things that he does or sometimes doesn’t do. He’ll take longer to eat because he’s pushing the food around in the bowl as he thinks. He forgets things like his phone charger when he’s gone for a long time. But the most obvious one for you, is his fiddling.

Pushing his food around while he’s lost in thought. Pulling at threads on his clothes. And your favourite, when he plays with the charm of your necklace. Obviously, it doesn’t happen very often because it’s not like he can just walk up to you and start playing with it. But it’s when you two are lying together, usually on the couch, when you’re supposed to be watching a movie or series, and Mingi’s mind just slowly drifts off. It’s very subconscious that his hand will make its way to your chest or your neck, and pull on the chain that lies there. Without missing a beat, he places and replaces the charm between his fingers.

“Everything ok, love?” You ask as you look up at him.

“Hmmm?” Mingi really has no idea what you’re saying, his thoughts elsewhere.

“You’re fidgeting, love,” you say, glancing down to where his hand is. “Something’s keeping you preoccupied.”

Mingi finally realises what’s going on and he laughs softly in your ear.

“Sorry, I didn’t…”

“It’s ok. I don’t mind.”

You gently reach up behind you to pat Mingi’s cheek before he tells you what’s been bothering him. He continues to play with the charm as he does but truly, you don’t mind. As long as Mingi feels some kind of relief.

Wooyoung:

Wooyoung likes wearing jewellery – it’s an expression of himself. And you love seeing jewellery on him because he just looks so good.

It’s a free day for both of you so you’re making the most of it. You snuggle closer to him as you both lie on his bed, teasing him a bit by kissing near his ear. Wooyoung giggles softly at your antics and tries to pull away only for…

“Ow!” You yelp as you feel a tug at the back of your neck.

“What’s wrong!?” Wooyoung’s tone immediately changes.

He tries to sit up only for you to yelp in pain again. Finally, you both look down between you only to see that your necklaces and his chain have decided to become one piece of jewellery and that’s what’s causing the issue.

“How the hell did that happen?” He asks, already trying to undo the tangles.

“It’ll be easier if you take yours off.” You offer your two cents, to which his response is to unclasp your necklaces instead.

Wooyoung sits back against his pillows and continues. He looks kind of funny, with his chin almost tucked into his neck as he attempts to see what he’s doing; you can’t help the giggle that escapes you.

“What are you laughing at?” He says with a sassy look at you.

“If you just listened to me, I wouldn’t be laughing at you, baby”

He playfully mimics your words softly as he then relents and unclasps his own chain and sets the pile down on the blankets in front of him.

Wooyoung takes his time but soon enough, he’s made sense of the mess you two had made. He pulls you closer and puts your necklaces back on you, and you do the same for him, taking the chance pull him closer by the back of the neck and kiss him.

“Smart boy,” you tease and kiss him again.

Jongho:

“This feels so strange,” you confess, touching your bare neck.

In your other hand, you hold your necklaces. The ones that you never take off.

Jongho is watching with his big, deep eyes as he sits opposite from where you stand in your room. He knows what your necklaces mean to you and he knows that this must be very alien to you.

“It’s like… I’m naked, without actually being naked,” you confess. “You know?”

“I know,” he says, keeping an eye on your hands. “But you’re doing something nice for your friend. I’m sure the photo’s will be worth it.”

You sigh because he’s right and because you now face a new dilemma.

“But where can I put these though?” You say, gesturing to your necklaces. “I don’t want to lose them; I need somewhere safe!”

Jongho seems to pick up that this whole ordeal is rattling you a bit. Maybe it’s the nerves due to the fact that your friend had asked you to model some clothes for their website and now that the day had arrived, you were feeling anxious. Maybe it really was about the necklaces. Either way, Jongho doesn’t like seeing you so worked up about something that in reality was so small.

“I’ll keep them,” he says, taking you by surprise.

He calmly pulls his backpack closer to him and digs around the inside. He lets out a small ‘ahuh!’ as he finally pulls out a little drawstring bag.

“I normally keep one on me,” Jongho admits. “They make us do very weird things for Wanteez episodes and I don’t like risking my jewellery.”

Confidently, he stands up and steps towards you, opening the bag as he does. With deft fingers he picks up the necklaces, brushing his fingertips against the palm of your hand as he does so, and let’s them fall into their temporary home.

The gesture is so thoughtful and sweet that at first, you don’t know how to react. Finally, you do what you do best and give him a soft peck on the lips. The smile you get in return is worth it.

#i have no idea if this will do well or not but who cares #ateez fluff #ateez ot8 #ateez fanfic #ateez x y/n #if there's spelling errors or anything strange please let me know #miss maniacs writing

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artsyunderstudy · 9 months

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Six Sentence Sunday

Hey friends. Happy Sunday! So obviously, I posted the last chapter of Someone Wicked this Thursday. And it's bittersweet because writing this one and sharing it with you all has been like, the calm spot in the middle of the storm that was the past few months. I love hearing from some people that the story was comforting and healing because that's how it felt writing it.

Anyway, I'm being self-indulgent today and posting an excerpt from the final chapter. There are no huge spoilers for those who haven't got to read it yet, but this is a smaller moment that meant a lot to me.

When you have a disability, whether it be physical or psychological, it can be such a huge thing to admit that you need help. Or to admit to yourself that while you are indeed surviving, maybe you could be doing more than that. Maybe it doesn't have to be a daily struggle. But figuring out the line for yourself, where you feel comfortable reaching out to a friend, or getting on medication, or finally getting a mobility aid, whatever it is. It's really hard. And I just wanted to explore that with Baz in this fic. Because I've maintained that while this is very much a love story, it's also just as importantly about self-love. And so bringing this around, getting him to a place where he is consciously deciding to take better care of himself, was really monumental. A lot of his decisions in the last chapter were. I'm very proud of him.

This isn't the last mention of this in the fic, but it's one of my faves.

My gaze slowly slips toward the cane propped up in the corner of my room. I bought it a few weeks ago, polished dark wood with a brass Fritz handle catching my eye in a corner shop. I told myself it was just in case of hard days. Just in case I needed it. I haven’t touched it since.

Perhaps there hasn’t been a hard enough day. I don’t know how to tell. I’ve been living like this for years, putting up with it, working around it. I can survive.

But isn’t that just it? Haven’t I been trying to do more than just survive?

I look at it, the embossed handle gleaming in the low light. It’s a reminder, and not a bad one. (Though, it’s funny how easily hurt can turn lovely memories sour.) It reminds me that Simon didn’t want me to be in pain when there was a way around it.

Thank you again so much to everyone who was reading along, or who is just now picking it up, or simply enjoying the excerpts or the art shared to Tumblr. It's been a good experience. As someone who personally really struggles with knowing how and when to reach out for help, it's been particularly good.

Tags under the cut ♡♡

@imagineacoolusername @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @martsonmars @valeffelees @cutestkilla @bazzybelle @ileadacharmedlife @aristocratic-otter @urban-sith @basiltonbutliketheherb @letraspal @palimpsessed @whatevertheweather @nightimedreamersworld @carryonsimoncarryonbaz @raenestee @erzbethluna @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @confused-bi-queer @moodandmist @yeonjunenby @shrekgogurt @thewholelemon @whogaveyoupermission @creepyspice @onepintobean @ebbpettier @orange-peony @theearlgreymage @ic3-que3n @captain-aralias @fatalfangirl @prettygoododds @stitchyqueer @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @forabeatofadrum @ivelovedhimthroughworse @mysterioussheep @rimeswithpurple @c0nsumemy5oul @facewithoutheart @hushed-chorus @blackberrysummerblog @larkral @j-nipper-95 @alexalexinii @iamamythologicalcreature @supercutedinosaurs

#artsyfic #six sentence sunday #someone wicked #snowbaz fic

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faithinhome · 1 year

Text

brave. stephen strange x female reader. (one shot).

summary: stephen shows up when you need him.

tags: street harassment, strong language.

a/n: this one shot’s kinda self-indulgent. let’s just say i wrote it to cope with something. i wanted to post it on here in case it resonates with someone else too. i tagged people that i tag on my nnd fic because i wasn’t sure if you guys wanted to be informed for other fics too! i understand this fic is based on something very specific, so please don’t feel pressured to read just because you’re tagged!

you couldn’t believe stephen had managed to piss you off this much.

god, he was so arrogant.

so smart, so beautiful, such an interesting person to be around.

but.

so.

fucking

arrogant.

and you couldn’t stand it.

you were just packing up your stuff in the locker room and stephen walked in behind you, quiet.

you two had just performed a surgery together and had been quiet the entire time.

the previous day, the two of you had had a small argument over something so stupid, you couldn’t even really remember it. but it had spiraled into another bigger issue.

stephen’s inability to accept defeat or that he could be wrong.

before you knew it, the argument had turned heated, with you bringing up all the times he’d been this way throughout your friendship.

you and stephen started out as friends that started hooking up. and you two were just on the verge of a somewhat relationship.

before a relationship had even had a chance to bloom, you’d had your “first fight” with him.

whatever.

you tried to convince yourself stephen was too full of himself to be a good boyfriend to you anyway.

sure, he was charming. and he did care. he looked after you. and he was strong. he was so…he was so fucking beautiful too. and he was definitely the best man you’d ever slept with in your entire life.

no.

you tried to push the thoughts away, you were getting distracted and swayed away.

you were going to wait for stephen to apologize.

maybe, he’d do it right now? maybe he’d admit to his faults and you guys could go back to building a foundation together, to be with each other.

but you just heard a locker door shut and footsteps fading away.

you turned to find that he had left.

you just sighed to yourself and hurriedly packed your things, closing the locker.

sure, stephen was stubborn. but you were even more stubborn. and you weren’t going to budge, no matter what.

you pulled on your jacket and began walking out of the building, sighing as you anticipated a long transit ride home.

you’d just left the driveway and had taken to the sidewalk, when you heard a car on the road honk behind you.

you turned to find a black car behind you, squinting as the headlights blinded your eyes. it came up beside you and the window rolled down.

a man that you’d never seen before flashed you a smile. “hey, sweetheart. all alone tonight?”

your heart began to thump in your chest, and it felt like it was in your throat. you turned away and clutched your bag tighter, starting to walk faster but the car caught up.

“want a ride, baby? you shouldn’t be out here all alone at night.”

yeah, because of assholes like you.

“oh come now, don’t be shy” the man pushed.

tears stung at your eyes. you didn’t know what to do. should you respond? should you ask him to fuck off? or should you keep quiet for the sake of your own safety and hope that he gives up eventually?

just as fear and anxiety were starting to take over, clouding your thoughts and making it hard to breathe, you heard a bump and the car next to you was lightly struck.

your breath hitched and you turned, watching stephen strange emerge out of the driver’s seat of the car that came to a halt after bumping into the creep’s vehicle.

“hey, what the fuck, man?” the creep screamed, sticking his head out of the window to see who it was.

“is there a problem here?” stephen asked, his forehead creased, as he looked between you two.

his eyes glued to you for a few moments, scanning you, as if he was assessing your current condition.

“yeah, buddy, you just hit my fucking car.” the man got out of the vehicle, staring daggers at stephen.

you gasped, your heart beat rising and breathing growing shallower.

“stephen” you whispered, walking up to him and grabbing his shirt, fear climbing up to your throat.

stephen extended an arm in front of you, gently nudging you behind him. but your grip never left his shirt. you didn’t want stephen to get hurt.

“i saw you were bothering my girl over here, and i thought i should come put you in your place.” he spat angrily.

my girl.

“so that little slut is your girl? and why do you think i give a fuck?” the man laughed.

stephen’s eyes darkened, his jaw clenching. you could see the nerve pop in his head as he swallowed, stepping closer to the man, staring down at him. “who the fuck do you think you’re talking about? say that about her again and i’ll break your fucking jaw.”

the creep looked up at stephen, trying to keep his chest broad, even though you could notice a hint of fear in his face. “well, your girl shouldn’t have been walking around looking like that if she didn’t want attention.”

within a split second, stephen had the man’s face in his right hand as he jerked him closer and the man cowered in fear. “maybe men like you shouldn’t be allowed to walk freely on the streets. maybe you should be locked up forever.”

stephen let go of the man, clicking his tongue and pretending to have had an epiphany.

“actually, i could get you locked up.”

the man now cowered in fear, his eyes widening.

“do you know who i am?” strange continued, his voice deepening further, if that was even possible. “i know absolutely everyone. i could have you locked up, beaten down to a fucking pulp. come after my girl again and i will fucking destroy you. understood?”

the man swallowed, looking between the two, “i-i-“

“i said, is. that. understood?”

stephen sounded really mad. you’d never seen him this angry. you were frightened, and he was on your side.

“y-yes.” the man breathed out.

“now, apologize to my girlfriend.”

your eyes widened as you looked up at stephen, not wanting to look away and at the creep.

had he just called you his girlfriend?

the man turned to you, his jaw clenching. “i- i’m, uh-”

he was clearly hesitating with his apology. you had a feeling he’d never really apologized to a woman before.

“on your knees” stephen interrupted, his voice gruff and impatient.

“what?”

“get on your knees and apologize. and really try to beg for her forgiveness.” stephen dragged that sentence out long and slow, trying to absolutely crush the man’s self-esteem.

a small smile appeared on your face and you looked over at the man who looked like he would rather jump off a building.

but he cowered under stephen’s stare and took a big sigh, getting on his knees. “i-i’m sorry.”

you looked at the guy and back up at stephen, not really sure what to do.

“i said, beg for her forgiveness. that’s not a whole lot begging.” stephen spat.

“i’m -i’m sorry” the man stammered, clearly trying to force himself into doing this. “please-forgive me.”

he looked up at stephen who gave him a disapproving look.

“more” stephen barked and the man turned to look at you, meeting your eyes this time, even just for a few moments.

“i’m really sorry” the creep said, his voice smaller. “please forgive me. please. i regret behaving the way that i did. i was- i was a total asshole. a total pig for treating you the way i did. i’m so sorry.”

you looked down at the man, who wasn’t even able to look you in the eye, when not too long ago, he was staring you down like he had all power over you.

this right here, this felt good. this felt right.

“good” stephen leant in and heaved the guy up, grabbing his shirt by the collar and pulling him closer. “i better not fucking see you around here, or around my girl, ever again. do you understand?”

“yes. sorry.”

stephen clicked his tongue and shook his head in disapproval “you’re apologizing to the wrong person.” he pointed at you and the man apologized again, while all you could do was quietly watch all that was unfolding in front of you.

stephen let the man go with a slight shove. “leave before i change my mind and decide to break your legs this very second.”

the man scurried back inside his car. it was so evident on his face that his ego was absolutely shattered. he looked like he was almost in a state of shock.

which frankly, so were you.

stephen watched the man drive off, reaching back to touch your arm lightly.

he turned and his concerned eyes searched your face, subtle sadness weaving through his face.

“y/n, a-are you okay?” he asked, his voice now soft and gentle.

you still couldn’t speak. all you could do was stare up at stephen, still coming down from the fear you’d felt earlier.

“y/n?” stephen stepped closer, concerned that you weren’t saying anything. he reached out to cup your face, eyes searching yours. “please say something.”

your felt shivers run along your skin as stephen touched you, tears threatening to well up in your eyes as you watched the way stephen watched you with such care, gentleness and concern.

“i-i’m okay, stephen. thank you,” you managed to say.

“i’m so sorry that happened to you. he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

you smiled softly, bringing a hand up to place over stephen’s, a tear falling down your cheek as you shook your head. “how could he? you were right here.”

stephen shook his head, trying to brush your tear off with his thumb. “oh baby, please don’t cry. i’m sorry. i’ll always be here. i’ll always protect you, y/n.”

baby.

“you h-helped me,” it took a lot for you to look into stephen’s eyes and speak without bursting into tears. “even though we were fighting.”

“no, that doesn’t matter, it never will.” stephen shook his head. “i’ll always protect you, okay? no matter what. and i’m sorry. i’m so sorry about everything. i should’ve been here. but i’m here now, okay?”

you smiled and nodded, hesitating before leaning up to peck stephen’s lips, smiling wider when he blushed.

“thank you, stephen. you were so…so brave.”

“anything for you” stephen smiled, leaning in to place a kiss on your forehead. “and i’m driving you to and from work now, okay?”

“no, stephen, it’s okay-“

“nope, i don’t want to hear it.” stephen shook his head, his voice firm. “i’ll keep you safe, okay? you don’t have to worry anymore.”

you closed your eyes, letting out a soft sigh.

you loved being independent, holding down your own fort. but this. this felt amazing in its own right. having someone care for you, someone that cared for your well-being. someone that wanted to protect you and make sure you were okay. you just wanted to surrender to this affection, you wanted to allow this comfort.

“thank you.”

“you deserve it” stephen smiled, reaching down to hold your hand. “let’s go.”

you looked up at him as he led you to his car, unable to wipe the smile off your face.

maybe he’s right, you thought to yourself. maybe i do deserve it.

…

TAGLIST

@kentucky-criedfricken @sherlux @evelynrosestuff @thewinterpoet2 @lokislov3 @0p444ls @nabiiturner @withalittlehoney @lokiego @cemak @chocokitty @whore4sherlockholmes

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little-peril-stories · 5 days

Text

Blood Garnet - WIP Intro

it's a working title leave me alone

Aka: WIP Wednesday / Vaguely Summarized WIP / I'm Desperately Trying to Get This Dumb Story Out of My System

DISCLAIMER: this stupid story is a silly, self-indulgent mess that would require a lot of hard work to make it, um, fit for human consumption. It was my little brain break between finishing The Queen of Lies and restarting The Court of Rogues. It may not ever get finished. 🤷‍♀️ So, uh, you're forewarned. 😇

OPEN TAG for WIP Wednesday, Vaguely Summarized Plot, or both 😊- there's a lot of nonsense in here so I feel bad subjecting even more people to it 😂

Let's use this cheeky lil post for some recent WIP Wednesday tags: Thank you @kaylinalexanderbooks and @sleepywriter00 for the tags! Posts here and here (same post chain).

Rules: Pick a WIP. Post something about it. On a Wednesday. Or whenever! It can be literally anything! 😊 (It does NOT need to be extra as this😅.)

Mood Board

don't anyone say anything about how there isn't a single gemstone on this mood board

What's It About?

Take a drink every time you see an element Kate's used before in other stories. 😅

Evyn, a schoolteacher, impulsively embarks on a journey in an effort to escape the chokehold of her small village, overbearing uncle, and inevitable (and unwanted) fate as someone’s happy little wife. It’s risky, of course: wild animals roam the woods, and she still doesn’t know the source of the mysterious lights that gleam through the darkness at night. However, she gets more than she bargained for—the forest is not what it seems, nor are those mystical yellow lights.

The Fae, creatures of legend, are real.

And they’re coming for her.

Vaguely Summarized Plot

Also using up another tag here! Thank you @mysticstarlightduck for this one! Posts here and here. The tag is kind of perfect for this seeing as I don't know much of the plot myself, so I have no choice but to be vague. :)

Rules: Summarize your WIP in 15 2-5 word bullet points (as if you were trying to summarize it in 15 seconds). (I didn't stick to the limit at all.)

✨ “So the forest's been kind of glowing lately? And no one but me seems to have noticed? Ok. Coolcoolcool.”

✨ “Get married? Me? Never!” Evyn Edition: Simply Not Interested But I Must Be Lying Because All Women Want to Get Married, Amirite?

✨ “Get married? Me? Never!” Jonathan Edition: Very Not Straight But Try Telling That To My Religious Zealot of a Father

✨ Jealous twin will NOT let his sister win control of their clan like she wins everything else, damn it (footnote 1)

✨ Emo loner who can’t go home (on pain of death) just wants these weird dreams about some random-ass human to please STOP (footnote 2)

✨ “I’m going to pursue independence! In another town! On a time crunch! By walking through the woods! At night! I’m a schoolteacher with no survival experience! This Is A Good Idea!”

✨ Grumpy grandma re: pesky human: What is her deal?

✨ “Hello yes hi I’m the emo loner. I’m unrealistically attractive. I saved you for reasons I won’t explain. But also I don’t talk to humans. Or Fae, really. Or. Like. Anyone. Not often anyway. What’s talking again?”

✨ “So, like, you're kind of hot … but you’re, uh, my enemy?? But I haven't figured that out yet?? And also, do we, like, have weird sexual tension, haha, or is it just me? Hahahaha! … But seriously, do we?”

✨ "Hey I know you have breathing issues or whatever, so you don’t like dusty or dirty or humid places, but … wanna take a shortcut through this super duper cool underground cave system?”

✨ “Haha, what? No?! There’s no reason I’m avoiding this area of the forest! Nope! No reason at all!”

✨ YOU get a betrayal! And YOU get a betrayal! And YOU get a—

✨ “Who is the monster and who is the man?” (footnote 3)

✨ This asylum makes the one in TQOL look like a vacation! (footnote 4)

✨ Sexy villainess gets to emotionally torture one MC and then physically torture another. AND psychologically torture them both! Hell, maybe she’ll even kill one of ’em too! Fun for the whole family!

Footnotes

(1) IT’S NOTHING LIKE ZUKO AND AZULA SHUT UP

(2) IT’S NOTHING LIKE RHYSAND AND FEYRE SHUT UP

(3) IT’S NOTHING LIKE QUASIMODO AND FROLLO SHUT—oh who am I kidding 🎶

(4) Technically the whole asylum thing happened in this story first, like, 2 or 3 years ago. That version just lives in a purple notebook that will never be seen by any eyes but mine. So, really, TQOL stole the asylum setting from BG, not the other way around.

Character Vibes

Evyn, human, orphaned as a child and raised by her aunt and uncle. Now a schoolteacher who sees yellow lights no one else can see.

“My heart cannot be captured. I intend to die an old maid, surrounded by papers and books. Good afternoon!”

Jonathan, human. Evyn's cousin, a clerk. Just truckin' on through a life he finds endlessly tedious and unsatisfying.

“Cecil’s a soggy piece of tree bark in a hat,” he said before he could stop himself.

Ah, Jonathan Garnet. A man who gained a single speck of favour with his impossible-to-please father…and promptly hurled it into the wind.

Dharan, Fae. Exiled from his clan years ago for murdering another Fae.

The Fae leapt up, standing straight and bending his knees as if to run—or perhaps pounce. One hand hovered over the stolen knife on his belt; the other, he extended to her.

He looked away from his foe to meet her gaze, uttering a single word:

“Run.”

Rennith, Fae. Heir to his clan but competing for the title against his twin sister.

He was a man, it seemed, but those eyes bespoke something much more ancient—of man, but not man himself. Silver hair, an impossible shade, framed a face sculpted into sharp angles, as cold and pale as if it were made of ice.

A Fae creature forged in primordial fire, carved from gold, silver, and mother-of-pearl.

For the Whump People Here:

Whumpy Things I've Managed to Squeeze into the First 13,000 words

Humiliation/embarrassment (minor)

Hyperventilation, dyspnea

Angst (minor)

Grabbed in the dark

Abducted

Restrained (but make it magic)

Magically forced to obey commands

Chin grab

Whumpy Things I've Got Planned But Haven't Written

Angst (major)

Stabbed

Various fight-related injuries I won't know till I write them

Betrayed by someone you trust

Drugged/knocked out

Humiliation/embarrassment (major)

Imprisoned

Taunted by the antagonist

More magic restraints (but turn it up to eleven)

Tortured (but make it magic)

Desperation, hitting rock bottom

A death fakeout or two or three

If you made it this far, you deserve a medal. 🥇

#lps blood garnet #pls excuse the constant self-deprecation #i love me - i do - but this story is pretty silly 😂#and i'm ok with that #writeblr #fantasy #mood board #lps mood board #tag game #wip wednesday #wip wednesday tag #vaguely summarized wip #vaguely summarized wip tag #open tag #writeblr open tag #writing #creative writing #wip intro #writeblr community

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ashes-writing · 1 year

Text

stranger things ● forever, pt 2 ● s.harrington

warnings

{ part 1 } <- can be found by clicking. everything else I've started will be updated asap. this just grabbed hold and i had to lean into it, that's why there are two updates for it in one day.

Angst, hurt comfort, internal angst (because reader/you and Steve apparently love to overthink fucking everything), baby talk (your kid is 3. she's still grasping speech.), so much dad!steve fluff omg, robin has a crush and might get the girl, (Barb. it's barb and i am fully prepared to die all alone on this hill.), small town judgment and rumors and shit ( if curious.. this has both to do with eventual Robin/Barb and also bc stevie, in my mind, looks like she could be steve's actual daughter bc drama ), huge changes to seasons 1 thru 4 (Everyone but Jason lives, Max is not in between life or death, Billy's brush with death has redeemed him.. slightly, starcourt is rebuilt, the portal to the upside down is closed PERMANENTLY), vaguely hinted at that Vecna may have mentally tortured Steve and it may have gotten in his head a little when Vecna 'attacked' his mind in my version of events for this, alcohol/smoking mentions, eventual filth (probably gonna have Steve's known breeding k*nk front and center, fwiw.), swearing, arguing, roommates trope eventually, slow burn (as slow as I can tolerate tbh ), reader has not had a very good life prior to Hawkins, ( more will come on that later trust me )

Reader/you are Robin Buckley's cousin. Reader/You was born female and you identify as female with female parts and a 3 year old daughter named Stevie and reader/you have personality + a past and backstory. This is self indulgent and I do not apologize.

word count

5302 exactly. I uh.. got carried away.

summary

Robin thinks what you’ve just said is hilarious and she’s doubled over laughing as she pauses to look at you and shake her head. “You don’t know Steve. Trust me. This will not get annoying for him. And anyway,” Robin rolls onto her stomach and looks at you, “He likes her.”

aka, the one in which Robin -and Steve also Barb watch Stevie while you try to interview for a job.

taglist + shoutouts

-- taglist is here. if you wish to be added click the bolded part to be taken to it. if you're here for eddie/gareth or other guys from ST and don't want to be tagged please let me know.

@allelitesmut

@chaoticcancer - just wait. my heart was also like ahhhh.. writing these two parts. I really hope you like this, thank you for reading!

@caravelofthesun

@dylanwritesgood

@eddiemuns0nl0ver

@just-a-blue-nerd

@music4life42

@slyisbehindyou

@spaceconveyor

@tbmunson bestie. babe. babesss. i had to do this okay? we needed it. and i proceeded to go ham. oopsies.

other links

masterlist ● steve's masterlist ● about + rules

TWO

You must've put in an application at every place imaginable all over town. It's been a week and the phone lines have been silent. You're starting to wonder if you'll get any callbacks.

"Will you relax? Someone will call, okay?" Robin speaks up from the doorway of her room. You sink down to sit on the bed. "I'm seriously having my doubts."

"They will." Robin is unwrapping a bomb pop and holding it out to Stevie. Stevie takes it and climbs up onto your lap. You grimace at her reddened shoulders from an afternoon spent in the kiddie end of Hawkins pool and she leans back against you as Robin leans forward to hit play on yet another movie Steve Harrington rented for your daughter. Tonight it's Alice in Wonderland and as the opening credits roll, you're surprised to find yourself wondering what he's doing at the moment. It's a thought quickly buried as deep as you can.

As Alice finds herself in Wonderland on the television screen, your aunt's landline rings and you slip off the couch so Stevie goes to sit in Robin's lap. Until she remembers the glittery 'picture' she drew earlier and goes to get them both because she's made one for Steve too, a little thank you for being so nice to her when she knows she might be annoying at times.

"Who's this one for?" Robin asks, looking at the squiggles, circles and squares covered in glitter and drawn in vibrant red marker beneath. The purple glitter is falling off the page, settling on Robin’s bed.

"Steve. I make him dragon. Only he doesn't breathe fire, he breathes toasts."

Robin laughs and smiles. "I see that. I'm gonna put mine right here. On my bulletin board." She hugs Stevie again and Stevie is hugging back, playing with her hair.

"'Kay!" Stevie laughs, looking up at Robin. “I like Steve. He’s sooooo nice.”

“Oh you do, huh?” Robin laughs again. Stevie nods.

You wander back in and Robin speaks up. “Well?”

“That was the secretary job I applied for? I’m a ‘risk’ but they’re willing to give me a shot?” you’re still a little shocked because when you applied for the secretary position at some office in town, they were literally the last stop. You didn’t think they’d even look at your application, let alone hire you. “They want me to come in for face to face interviews tomorrow.”

Then it hits you. Your aunt Janet has to work. “Shit.”

“What?”

“I can’t, Robin.. Your mom has to work.”

“And?”

“And, I can’t take Stevie. I also can’t leave her alone.” you bite your lip as you mull it over.

Robin speaks up. “I’ll take her to Family Video with me. I’ve got a shorter shift tomorrow and it’s gonna be slow as hell anyway.”

“Robin…” you eye her warily.

“I’ll take her.” Robin repeats, firmer. “It’ll be fun. Won’t it, Stevie?” Robin gazes down at Stevie. “A little help here?” she asks, fluffing Stevie’s hair. Stevie is nodding. “Please, mama? I be so good.”

“Okay, sweetie, but aunt Robin is working. You have to be a good girl.”

Robin laughs. “Relax. She’s an angel.” she looks over at you and now both of them are begging.

“Okay, alright. Fine. The second I have money again I’ll pay–” you start to tell Robin you’ll pay her but she’s already shaking her head. “You’re not. I wanted to do it.”

“Okay, but.. For whatever reason, she’s attached to your friend. It might get annoying, Robin.” you point out after turning your attention back to the television for a few minutes and having a little more time to think about it. You’re grasping at straws because you’re already seeing Stevie form a little bit of an attachment to Robin’s best friend slash co-worker and you’re just so afraid that sooner or later, the novelty is going to wear off for the guy, leaving your little girl heartbroken and missing something she’s never actually had and most likely never will.

A father.

“Yeah. Now, in theory, when he only has to deal with her a few minutes here and a few there. A whole day with her underfoot is different.” you take a deep breath. “I’m just..”

“I get it. You don’t want Stevie to get too attached.” Robin mumbles quietly, nodding in agreement. “You need the job, right?”

“Well, yeah, I’d like to find an apartment sooner or later. I’d like to be able to do things for Stevie..” you trail off, letting the rest of your sentence go unsaid. Because Robin knows exactly how awful your mom was now, the two of you had a really long talk recently. You finally told her everything that’s been going on, full honesty. Instead of letting her believe everything was fine like you’d done before.

Robin nods. A grim look on her face as she shakes her head. “I wish you’d told me and Mom everything way sooner.”

“I didn’t want you guys to worry.” you answer, going quiet. “Okay, alright. Don’t let her annoy him, please?” you give Robin a pleading look and Robin nods. “I’m telling you though,” she insists, “Stevie is not annoying to him. Like… not even a little.”

“Robin.” you laugh and shake your head. “He’s probably got an image or something.”

“Yeah, as a giant dingus.” Robin states, laughing. “I know what you’re thinking. Just stop overthinking already, okay? Steve Harrington is a good guy. He’s not going to treat her like dirt because she’s three.”

You blow at damp strands as they fall down into your eyes. “I just.. She’s never really like.. Attached herself to a person like this before.”

“Could have everything to do with her mommy being stingy.” Robin teases gently, laughing as she looks up at you. Stevie wanders back in with a yogurt cup and spoon. Robin reaches out, pulling her up before you even get the chance. “Guess what, sparkles?”

“Yeah?”

“Your mom finally gave in. We win. You can come to work with me tomorrow.” Robin and Stevie share a laugh and Robin takes Stevie’s spoon and takes a bite of yogurt for herself. “We can watch movies all day.”

“Yay!” Stevie claps her hands together in excitement. “Will my fwiend be there?”

Robin laughs softly. You tense up slightly. Look at your daughter with a soft smile as you warn, “Sweetie, you don’t need to bother him too much, okay?”

“Otay.” Stevie nods. But she has no intention of listening because she likes being around Steve. He’s nice. Really nice. And he gives her piggyback rides sometimes. He tells her stories about dinosaurs and some weird thing called basketball that he used to play and really likes a lot. He showed her how to tie her favorite purple sneaker earlier when he dropped off her aunt Robin after work, because her shoe was untied and he said he didn’t want her to fall on her face.

CONTINUED

The morning comes too early. And it’s off to a not so good start. You’re rushing around because you forgot to set an alarm the night before, and the button’s popped off the only ��suitable’ shirt you own for an interview.

Stevie’s missing her shoe and she can’t find her current favorite stuffed animal, a stuffed husky that Robin won out of the claw machine outside of Big Buy when they went in to pick up groceries for your aunt Janet. So she’s upset. Robin spots the shoe and holds it up. “Aha! I knew it was in here somewhere!”

“Fank you!” Stevie throws her arms around Robin’s neck. Robin grabs the hair brush from her dresser and motions for Stevie to sit in front of her. You laugh. “She’s tender-headed.” you warn as you flip over your own hair and try to make something out of the wild and thick mess of curls you have going on now, no thanks to your old reliable blow dryer quitting earlier. You’re in the midst of scrunching your hair to create a more defined curl pattern when Stevie wanders over, bending down to look up at you through a curtain of hair. “Mama! Mama, your skirt dirty.”

“Shit.” you say it without stopping to think and just as Stevie looks as if she’ll repeat it, you tack on quickly, “Mommy didn’t mean t’ say that, cupcake. You’re still a baby. That’s an adult word.”

“I know.” Stevie answers, giggling. “It sound funny.”

“It’s not, though.” you smile at your daughter and laugh softly. “You’ll let your aunt Robin braid your hair but you won’t let me? I might cry.”

“Don’t, mama. It’s just aunt Wobin do it better!”

You pout a little, flipping your hair over to stand and look in the mirror. Robin notices the stain on your skirt too and nods to your aunt’s room across the hall. “My mom’s got a suit or something? I think?”

You nod. After digging through your suitcase, you happen to find a modest -and totally shapeless, t shirt style black dress, you grab that and rush down the hall into the bathroom of the trailer to change.

“This looks like I’m wearing a trash bag. If I wind up working at this place I’m gonna have to get dressier stuff.” you wrinkle your nose at the thought. Because it’s money you don’t want to have to spend, but if you could luck into getting this secretary job, you’d be thrilled because it’ll be more money than you’ve ever made at once before.

And the job actually has insurance.

Robin’s friend Barb pulls to a stop outside and Robin’s giddy, laughing and smiling as if she could float. She drops a quick kiss to Stevie’s head and hugs you, lingering in the doorway. “I’ll see you in a little bit!”

You laugh and nod. “Yeah!”

After Robin’s gone, you scramble some eggs and squeeze an orange to make some juice for Stevie and as she eats ketchup covered scrambled eggs and a piece of fried ham, you try to finish getting ready.

You hate the shapeless dress, it’s one of your least favorite articles of clothing and even adding a belt to it doesn’t do anything to make it look better. You laugh at yourself in your cousin’s full length mirror on the back of her closet door and you toss the belt at your open suitcase on the bed. “Just get it over with. You’re probably not getting the job anyway, they said you were a risk to hire.”

Stevie’s sitting on the floor watching you. “We go, mama?”

“Yeah, we should get going,cupcake. Turn off the tv.”

Stevie pushes the button to turn off the television atop the dresser at the foot of Robin’s bed and you scoop her up,carrying her out. As the two of you walk out of the trailer, the girl with red hair is outside skateboarding again.

Stevie gives her a wave and the redhead waves back, quick to turn back to her skateboarding. The muscular blond with the mullet is leaned in the open door again, you can feel him staring. When he grins at you, cigarette smoke billowing out of his mouth, you manage a stiff wave and turn your attention to getting Stevie fastened into her car seat.

It’s a hard pass on the guy for you. He’s exactly the type of guy who fathered Stevie when you were 17. You are not going down that road again. And as you slip into the driver seat, a thought pops up out of nowhere. Surprises you a little when it does.

,, he’s not as handsome as Steve Harrington, either.” and as soon as this thought rises, you’re quick to shove it back down.

He’s definitely not an option.. You know, if you were even considering anything. The last thing any guy your age is going to want is to get a package deal and you’re just not willing to settle for anybody who won’t love and cherish your little girl as much as you do.

As you drive into town, you hum along with the radio, watch as the tree lined blacktop turns to buildings and houses. You pull to a stop in the parking lot of Family Video right around the same time that Robin and her friend Barb are pulling to a stop. You watch as Barb leans in closer to your cousin and you smile softly to yourself.

Robin mentioned someone in her letters around Valentines Day. You’re wondering if Barb might be the girl she mentioned. You hope so, because the way Barb looks at your cousin when she’s not looking is the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen with your own eyes, hands down. Robin spots you as the two pull away from their super close conversation and she grins brightly, waving.

As Robin and Barb wander over, Stevie’s already grumbling as she fusses with the way her upper harness in the seat likes to hang up. “I just wanna get out! Stupit buckle.” as she fumes and keeps trying to work with it, you lean over and unfasten it. Gently caressing her chubby little cheeks as you look into big brown eyes. “Mama will be back later to get you, alright? Be a good girl for aunt Robin.” you go quiet, adding a second later, “And don’t bother Steve so much when he’s working, please?”

“But mama..”

“Stevie Robin..” you using her first and middle name has the desired effect, but she’s pouting and not happy about it. “Otay! I try not to bother him! But if he wants t’ play, I not stop him.”

You laugh softly and press a kiss to her hairline. As Robin opens the door and scoops up Stevie, she’s laughing. “Ready for a big adventure, sparkles?”

“Uh-huh!” she laughs and smiles, hugging against Robin. One of her braids is already trying to come undone. You smile at Barb. She smiles back as she reaches for the old backpack you use to keep everything Stevie needs inside when you have to leave her with sitters and you fight down the usual guilt that comes rushing up when you’re thinking about just how well used that backpack is by now and how it means you hardly get to spend any time with your daughter like you always dreamed you would when you were little.

The time your own mother refused to spend with you.. Unless, of course, she took you along with her to try and ply single men by playing the single mom who needs sooooo much help card.

“She’ll be fine, ___.” Robin’s gentle teasing and the reassuring grin she gives you has you nodding. Smiling at her even though leaving Stevie with them while you go off for an interview is the last thing you want to be doing.

You’d rather be spending all day with your little girl. Making a blanket fort in the living room of your house. Making crustless peanut butter and jelly sandwiches as you both lie around, you reading her book of Grimms fairytales to her. Cuddling. Until the man you love comes in from work, where you’d have a nice home cooked meal, not something frozen or canned or even burned beyond recognition.. The life you didn’t have and always longed for as a kid.

,, you really need to accept the fact that this is your reality. Unless you want to turn into her, parading an endless string of faceless and nameless ‘uncles’ in and out of your life, always leaving you hurt and confused when they were gone and she was mean and bitter all over again.” the thought comes and you shove it out.

You watch as the three of them disappear into the video store, door banging shut behind them. And then you put your car into drive and pull out, merging with traffic. Journey is playing on the radio so you hum along and you hope it’ll distract you from a full to bursting mind. You’re just focused on doing your absolute best at this interview. Because you have to get money coming in somehow.

CONTINUED

Steve’s flipping through the channels on the old tv set that sits down on the counter out of sight. His legs are reclined and he’s just.. Fighting the urge to pass out from exhaustion.

To say sleeping through a full night since March has been a struggle would be a gross understatement. It’s been literal hell on Earth for him because every time he starts to doze, he can feel the earth rumbling beneath him. The sensation of free falling and then a hard thud as he connects with solid. And then he can hear Vecna’s evil laugh all over again. The way Vecna forced him to watch his worst fears and deepest secrets play out in front of him just to torture him. He had to watch everyone move on and leave him behind. He had to watch as his parents just went on with life as normal after his ‘death’, totally unaffected. He had to hear every single dark thing he’s ever thought or felt but never given a voice to, on repeat.

It’s not until his alarm’s going off every morning that the torment stops as Comfortably Numb starts to play and brings him rushing out, into another long day.

It was the same this morning and yet somehow, it wasn’t. Because Robin let it slip that Stevie was going to spend the day with them while you were interviewing at one of the offices in town for a secretary position. And somehow, knowing the little girl was going to be around to distract him all day just made things a little better.

She’s eating gummy bears that Robin and Barb stopped at the gas station in town to buy her as she makes her way over to him and motions for him to pick her up. “Tell me more about baske..About the game.” Stevie asks, holding out her bag of gummy bears to Steve as she smiles. “I wanna play too.”

Steve chuckles.

“Hang on, little bit.” he reaches for the remote, “Maybe there’s a warm up game on or a replay.” he flips through stations until he finds the channel he’s looking for. “That’s basketball.” he nods to a replay of an old Bulls game. “I used to play in high school.”

Stevie’s eyes fix on the television and she holds the bag out to him again. Steve takes a handful of gummy bears and pops them into his mouth as he arranges Stevie on his lap a little better.

As this is happening, Barb nudges Robin. “I never thought I’d see this happen.”

Robin laughs softly and nods. “Me either. From what __ has told me, Stevie doesn’t meet strangers though.” she shrugs, “Does he seem off to you too lately? And it’s gotten a little more obvious since Nance and Jonathan left town.”

“It has.” Barb admits, leaning against Robin slightly. Not enough to be obvious or invateRobin’s personal space but enough that she can feel the slight weight of the other girl and just..be close.

She wishes she could be so much closer. But she doesn’t know how to even begin telling her.

Robin feels her cheeks burn at the slightest hint of contact and she bites back the smallest whimper threatening to break free. She forces herself to pull together and calls out to get Steve’s attention. “Dingus, don’t get her into sports!”

“Looks fun!” Stevie is grinning and she’s turned herself to face Steve. “Open your mouth.” Steve opens his mouth as the little girl’s asked and Stevie tries to toss a bear in but she misses. The blue gummy bear settles on the front of his new polo shirt and he picks it off, eating it.

The bell over the door jingles and Robin glances over to see who it is.

“Harrington! Yo! Dude!” Billy’s calling out Steve’s name as he wanders the aisles to search for his former enemy turned friend. He finally gives up the search and stops in front of Robin and Barb. “Either of you seen Steve or do I need t’ go over and drag his broody ass outta bed again?”

“Right here, Hargrove, jesus.” Steve speaks up. Billy nearly chokes on the gum he’s chewing as he sees Steve sitting behind the counter with the cute little 3 year old daughter of the hot mom living across from him and his stepsister and her mom in Forest Hills. “You stealin kids now, Harrington?”

“I came t’ him.” Stevie sasses, leaning in against Steve just a little. Steve laughs and shrugs. Robin speaks up. “Yeah, he stole her from me! It took two hours to convince her mom I’d be able to watch her today when she went in for the interview. He’s had her since Barb and I got here.”

“You get her all the time, Robbie.”

“And? She’s my sparkles.” Robin argues back with Steve playfully. Billy chuckles. When he spots the game on tv he laughs to himself. “Girls don’t like that sh–”

“Mama said that’s adult word.” Stevie warns, giving Billy a very stern little look. Billy snickers. “It is, huh?”

“Mhm.”

Steve looks up at Billy. “She wanted to watch it, actually.”

“I did!”

“Anyway, what’d you want?”

“You’re comin with me tonight, dude. Munson’s band’s having a gig at the new bar. Told him we’d go.”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“Fuck no. No you don’t, Harrington. I’ve got tomorrow off, I’m not gonna waste th’ night sober.”

Steve grumbles but shrugs. “Not like anything else is going on. Okay, fine.”

“I guess you can drive the Camaro because I’m not gonna be seen in the grandma mobile.” Billy smirks, he’s purposely being a shit now, hoping that maybe if he just keeps treating Steve like the way he treated ‘old Steve’ it’ll eventually piss Harrington enough to bring out just a little of the fight and spunk that’s been gone completely since March.

He’s really worried about Steve. He figured him out fairly easy right after he hit Hawkins their senior year. So he knows that walking out of the station with Eddie to his waiting car after everything played out in March.. Seeing the girl he wanted to be with more than anything reunite with a guy she claimed she ‘wasn’t sure about anymore’ when they looked like they’d reconnect. Billy knows this killed Steve.

And then there’s the whole Vecna thing, something Steve absolutely refuses to talk about with anyone. Even Robin, his best friend.

Billy just doesn’t want to see Steve go down the path he’s been down already.

“You loud.” Stevie mutters, giving Billy a dirty look as she leans against Steve’s chest and nods to the little television set. “We watch baske..” she gives up, “the ball game.” and Steve chuckles.

“Bas-ket-ball. C’mon, try it.”

“It’s big word! I 3.”

“And you’re really smart for 3, Stevie. C’mon, try it.” Steve coaxes.

With a little grumbling, he gets her to attempt sounding out the whole word. When she finally says it, she’s laughing and smiling, clapping chubby little hands together. “I said it! Aunt Wobin! I said it!”

Steve laughs. “You did.”

Billy snickers. “Try this one, shortstuff.. C-a-m-a-r-o.”

Stevie gives him a blank look and places a hand on her hip. “What that?”

Billy gestures to his haphazardly parked car outside the store and grins proudly. “The best car ever.”

“Uh uh! My mama’s car is best.”

Robin and Barb laugh. “Oooh.. a three year old just burned you, Hargrove.” Barb taunts and Robin laughs, " How'd that feel, Billy?"

“Shut it, both of y." Billy grumbles. "I'll be over at 9, Harrington. You're going if I have t' drag you."

"I said I'd go. Jesus." Steve gives Billy a dirty look. The guy has gotten it in his head lately that he's gonna make it his daily goal to find ways to annoy Steve.

Billy leaves and Stevie scowls at the door before looking up at Steve. "He's loud. It scare me."

Steve smoothes a hand over her hair. "He does, huh?" he looks down at Stevie and smiles, "I'll tell him to calm down, 'kay?"

"Fank you. I gonna go to aunt Wobin now. But I come right back." Stevie slips off his lap and makes her way over, instantly picked up by Robin. As she sees the movie Gremlins, she reaches for it and Robin laughs. "Sparkles, they don't stay fluffy the whole movie."

"Why not?"

"Because someone fed them after midnight." Barb answers, laughing. "Did you get tired of watching the basketball game, bub?"

"No. Just wanted to come t' you for a while."

CONTINUED

The afternoon is dragging by for him. Hardly anyone's come in since 9 that morning and the pattern seems destined to continue. Then there's a steady drizzle from a surprise afternoon storm as the rain drops pitter patter against the stores tin sheet roofing. Robin and Barb went to get the four of them some lunch and Steve flips the sign on the door from open to closed.

Stevie is asleep in his chair at the circular desk, huddled into a jacket he kept in back in case the store got too cold. The bag of gummy bears is dangling from her fingertips and about to settle on the floor when he decides maybe she'd be more comfortable on the couch in the office besides the break room.

But he's so damn tired, the 2 to 3 hours he's been getting a night since late March, those are catching up to him. He tells himself he'll just sit there and read a magazine while she naps but it turns into him laying down too, on the opposite side of the couch. And at some point, Stevie wakes up, comes over to where he's laying and crawls onto the couch with him, laying on his chest with her little arms around his neck.

This is how they're still sleeping when Barb and Robin come back a few minutes later. Barbs the one to find them and with a finger to her lips, she gestures for Robin to come to the door of the office. Robin peers in over Barb's shoulder, smiling to herself.

"Hang on. I actually think I have my camera with me out in the car." Barb hurries out to go get the camera and Robin stands in thr doorway watching the two of them sleeping on the old leather sofa. "___ is totally wrong in thinking Stevie is going to annoy Steve and I think this is exactly what he needs right now."

After Barb takes the picture, she and Robin decide to put the fast food they picked up for Steve and Stevie into the microwave and just let them sleep.

You make your way in, a brow raised at the silence. You're still processing the fact that somehow, you impressed the office interviewing you so much that you got the job. Robin grabs your wrist and practically pulls you to the office in back so you can see the way Steve and Stevie are sleeping on the couch.

"I hope she didn't bother him all day."

"She didn't. They crashed while we went to pick up food. Steve hasn't been sleeping at all and I think Stevie playing with Will when he came in with the other kids earlier tired her right out." Robin smiles, "by the way, Steve's kids have adopted her.. well, Max, she's still warming up to her but..pretty sure if you want a sitter all you have to do is say so."

"Steve's kids?" you question, brow raised. This leads to Barb and Robin sitting you down in the little break room and as they tell you everything, from the start to what’s only just come to a close -hopefully for good, as of March, you're gaping. “You..He.. Oh my god, why did nobody stop it? Like.. they had to know, right?” you’re looking at your cousin in concern and if you thought Robin Buckley was a badass before, you really believe it now. Because all she does is shrug it off as if it were nothing.

"The running joke is that Steve's kind of adopted them all..because we've been through so much." Robin goes quiet. Weighing how much she can tell you without you freaking out on her. Even thinking about the insanity she’s been through the past few years is still a lot for Robin to get her own head around, let alone try explaining it to someone else.

"Wait..back up." You're trying to process it all, from secret government science labs to these kids -and their teenage counterparts, including Steve and Robin, having to fight as if they were in a war just to save the town. Robin can see you freaking out so she explains quickly, "Billy,Dustin Eddie and Steve saw the portal close because Eddie almost didn't make it up. That nightmare is over now, thank God."

,, well, you think to yourself, now I'm really fucked when it comes to finding a reason, any reason at all to keep from getting feelings for the guy." and of course, this is quickly overruled by one thought.

He's in the prime of his life. He probably wants to enjoy that. He probably doesn't want you and all your baggage plus your daughter. And thankfully, this is just enough, for now, to keep you from letting yourself get in too deep.

Steve wanders in with Stevie on his hip and his hair sticking up everywhere. Stevie has never liked waking up before she's ready so she's got her sour face on. Steve hasn't said a word to anybody, he possibly hasn't noticed the three of you sitting at the table in the break room or the way you're staring hard right now yet.

He heats up Stevies food and then his own and when he turns around, he finds himself being watched intently by the three of you.

You smile at your daughter. Everything Robin's just gone into detail to tell you comes rushing back and in light of it, you decide that maybe he needs this. Maybe it's okay to let her seek him out until he says otherwise.

"Did you have a nap, cupcake?"

Stevie is still yawning. Steve sits her chicken nuggets down on the table and Stevie climbs into your lap to eat them. "We did, mama! And we watched movies and this boy came and he gived me crayons!" Stevie digs in the old and faded backpack until she finds the crayons that Will gave her earlier.

You laugh softly.

"How'd the thing..the interview go?" Steve asks, locking eyes with you as he bites into his own double cheeseburger.

"How did that go?" Robin asks.

" I got the job. And they're willing to let me bring Stevie if I need to." You smile.

Steve is staring. And as you smile, he feels himself smile too because there is just something beautiful, something contagious about your smile that he can't help but do it too.

"That's great!"Robin hugs you and you both laugh.

"I start tomorrow. I'm working in the mornings, so open to 2?"

You're excited. Maybe everything will finally start to go better for you and your little girl.

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x single/former teen!mom!reader #steve harrington x yn #steve harrington x buckley!cousin fem. reader #<- my writing ● steve harrington #<- warnings | angst - single/former teen mom - post s4 with s4 / show changes - see warnings above.#<- warning | female reader - robin's cousin - female parts - 3 year old daughter - female clothing; etc - personality + a backstory and pas

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kyo-kitai-san · 7 months

Text

*hurls my second AM design into the ihnmaims tag*

so i finally decided to post my other, more au!AM design i suppose. one thing that stuck out to me in the story was how downright childish AM could be at times or depending on interpretation (i mean, snickering at the survivors having sex? throwing a tantrum over ted murdering his other toys and Slugging him for it?) so thats how we got here. (details on the design under the cut)

this is mostly what I imagine AM would have looked like had the military decided to make an android form for him. (ft. some self-indulgent twinkfication. i'm kind of projecting here. its no coincidence he has my haircut.)

i have lore justified it all though-- I imagine the military intended initially to make him more… I guess ‘traditionally masculine’ (this was the cold war, after all). but after some prototyping and tests, they ‘scaled things down’ for a few reasons:

Safety: this was really the primary reason. who wants an android with that much ‘killing data’ and the capacity to act on it? of course, that safety would later be undermined by AM being wired into all those massive systems giving him control over everything… but hey, they tried?

Showing off: of course, showing off an android that screams power and ‘american masculinity’ is great, but what’s better!! showing off how delicate and small you can make your machinery! how intricate and powerful it can be even in such a small size! (AM does not appreciate all this ‘delicate’ talk at all, by the way, thank you very much…)

and, yes, i know… the “white twinkification”… to me, I can't picture a group of american military men in the late 1940s making their special little boy anything but white as white bread. propaganda poster looking ass.

As for his exposed machine parts, I picked the ‘wheres’ very specifically, based on the idea of mechanical limitations:

Hands: very finicky, very articulated parts. Not the easiest to cover smoothly in whatever synthetic material they picked for skin. After lots of fiddling and ending up with ‘skin’ being torn or stuck in between parts, they’ve just left the hands uncovered until they can figure out a fix.

Lower jaw: from my observations, the mouth always seems to be the ‘weird part’ to me on video game characters or irl robots– something about it just rings uncanny. Obscuring that part or making it not so ‘human’ seems to help though, so i imagine a similar purpose here— on top of using it as a blinding signal that he’s not human. Don’t want him sneaking out somehow…

feel free to ask questions or otherwise talk to me about him! i always have brainrot over AM...

#i have no mouth and i must scream #ihnmaims am #am i have no mouth and i must scream #hes my darling awful brat supercomputer. insufferable #ihnmaims

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kiefbowl · 1 year

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I know this isn't a "real problem" according to radblr but I feel so insane when I read a lot of feminist literature about sex. It's always about how penetration is evil and centers male sexuality and I get that, I truly agree that men feel entitled to penetrate women. But there's always that implicit message that you cannot enjoy penetration, or that women only really enjoy clitoral stimultation. I had no idea my case was so rare before feminism: I have never orgasmed from clitoral stimulation by another person, unless you count rubbing my vuvlva over someone else's genitals. With another person I have only ever orgasmed from penetration by a penis, or fingers one time. When I have penetrative sex I pretty much orgasm every time, sometimes multiple times. On my own I can orgasm very easily from clitoral stimulation but never with someone else, and it's not like the guy I'm with doesn't try, he knows where the clitoris is, he actively and enthusiastically goes down on me. And I know this sounds like a non-issue, a sort of "good for you, nobody else is like that" kind of thing. But I find it difficult to connect with a lot of sentiments about sex on here. A lot of it makes me feel like I can't talk about the way I experience sex and desire, because I sound like I'm sucking up to the patriarchy or to men. Centering male sexuality, even if I'm really not. Sorry to rant

There's a couple things I want to address here, and you might not like them all, but please keep in mind I'm writing this in good faith and not to lecture. I'll just take it one bit at a time:

"I know this isn't a "real problem" according to radblr but I feel so insane when I read a lot of feminist literature about sex."

First of all, radblr is a tenuous concept at best. It's not that it isn't real, or that it isn't important, or we should flippantly dismiss what happens on radblr, but you have to understand that what you specifically are experiencing as "radblr" is extremely unique to you. You have the only dashboard you experience. You get to follow who you want, you get to block who you want, there are settings you can toggle, you can block tags, and most importantly, you get to publish whatever content you want. So whatever it is you’re experiencing as “radblr” is not going to be everyone’s experience. So when you say “I know this isn’t a ‘real problem’ according to radblr”, it comes off as myopic and self-indulgent. You don’t know what everyone’s “problems” are, and frankly a lot of women come on tumblr to specifically not have “problems.” They’re here to have a good time, which leads to my second of all:

You caring about something or feeling uncomfortable about something and finding that most others don’t care or are dismissive or are even critical or even mean doesn’t really say anything about feminism or radblr, but says more about what you’re spending your time on tumblr doing. You’re allowed to quit tumblr. You’re allowed to have 20 sock puppet accounts. Stop expecting other women on here to be endless supplies of validation. In fact, expect them to be not even a fraction of their “true, irl” self here. Every single person on tumblr has a real life that is is more interesting than anything happening on tumblr and just literally has nothing to do with you. If you really can’t handle how a woman is using tumblr to blog about her life, just block her. She won’t even notice.

I guess the rest of my response is going to address the “insane” part...

(the rest under a cut for length and descriptions of het sex, not too graphic):

“It's always about how penetration is evil...”

I think if you’re reading feminist literature about PIV and your take-away is that it’s calling it “evil”, you don’t really give much respect to the validity of feminist literature as social, or political, or even philosophical theory. You see women as play-acting male intellectualism. Evil is a moral concept, and more often than not a religious concept. Maybe you’re throwing this word around unthinkingly, you mean it in some colloquial way and you didn’t really intend it’s full (and varied) meaning, but if you want to engage with female literature as intellectually relevant, and you want to be critical of it, you need to choose your words carefully. Does feminist literature critical of PIV claim penetration is evil, or are you just uncomfortable reading critical theory about PIV sex?

Evil in general is a pretty broad concept, so what is intended to respond to PIV critical theory with such a broad response? It means you don’t really want to engage, because you haven’t brought much to the table. You’ve brought your feelings, which aren’t unimportant, but have you really explored beyond that? What is your theory, your hypothesis, your maxims? What’s your thesis? Are you doing the heavy lifting, or do you just want to “not feel insane.” That’s fair to an extent, but if that’s the case, stop reading things that make you “feel insane” and go about your business. Engage or don’t engage, commit or don’t commit.

“...and centers male sexuality and I get that, I truly agree that men feel entitled to penetrate women. But there's always that implicit message that you cannot enjoy penetration, or that women only really enjoy clitoral stimultation.”

Many different women are coming to the table to discuss feminism, and even the most intelligent and well resourced women has the limitation we all have, which is at the end of the day we can really only speak to our own experiences. No woman can tell you what it is you like sexually, you are the only person who is experiencing your sexual history. If a woman says “women can’t enjoy penetration”, and you think she’s wrong, that’s your answer. What do you want from her? She will never ever validate your sexual experience and frankly she doesn’t have to. Validate your own sexuality.

Personally, I understand that there’s two nuances here: (1) the human body is both measurable and yet varied and diverse, and (2) sexual satisfaction can’t be divorced from socialization and mentality, which PIV critical theory attempts to explore. I’m already getting into more intense and complicated discourse than the average tumblr post, because if I really wanted to explain my feelings on both those points and then connect it to what I’ve already discussed above, we’re talking pages. Pages and pages, words and words, work I don’t want to do. I’m not getting paid, neither is your random tumblrina.

Which leads me to another point...are you reading feminist literature, or are you just kinda sorta hanging out on tumblr? No shade, I think just hanging out on tumblr is fine, and I think there are a ton of intelligent and smart women hanging out here too making some great content. The last time I read a feminist essay I honestly can’t tell you. I haven’t been doing my own heavy-lifting in awhile, I haven’t been doing my due diligence. I also trust, as a grown woman, I’ve done enough of my own studying to rest on my laurels a bit. I’m not convince of that for everyone I see on tumblr, but I’m also not their mom and I’m not going to lecture women to read or what to read. I encourage it, though! But at the end of the day, if the extent of your feminism is hanging out on tumblr reading what cool women are saying on their personal blogs when the mood strikes them, I’m not saying that’s bad or not enough, but you have to temper your responses to what you read accordingly. I think it’s awesome the internet allows women to congregate, and the anonymity of it allows women to speak more freely than they probably do in real life. It totally makes sense that internet communities are a big entry point to explore feminism for lots of young women, especially if they’re missing that community in real life. Love love love it.

But it does blur the lines of what is (in my estimation) the three “pillars” of any social movement’s text: theory, action, and personal account. To expand on that...

“I had no idea my case was so rare before feminism: I have never orgasmed from clitoral stimulation by another person,”

Were you actually “called to action” to only enjoy clitoral stimulation, or is it more likely many women have personal accounts of not enjoying penetration, enjoying clitoral stimulation, and having their needs disregarded by male partners? If we have so many personal accounts, what can we theorize? What you personally act on with that information is not that important in the grand scheme of feminism because you’re just one individual. The call to action is better suited to the group: how can we make women more comfortable standing up for their boundaries and their pleasure? How can we protect women from sexual violence? How can we educate them? When it comes to you, no one can stop you from making the choices you want to make, and that’ll be true for everyone. But the more we talk about these things, the more we can help women in general.

“... unless you count rubbing my vuvlva over someone else's genitals.”

Why wouldn’t we? No honestly, this strikes me. I think this speaks to the issue a lot of women have where they’re primed to view their own sexuality in 3rd person, downplay what they experience as “real” or “correct”, and view sex from a male POV.

YOU orgasmed, that’s reality. Every orgasm you have counts. Every orgasm you have is real. Who cares how rare it is? Who cares if it fits the idea, the “social script” about sex?

Many, many, many people discuss het sex as if the only way to have genital sex is penetration, even so much so that when discussing other sex besides penetration, people point to oral and manual, and seem to be unable to envision genital sex without penetration. But genital sex without penetration is sex. You had sex and you orgasmed without penetration at least once from what I’m reading.

So yes, I count it. I count you. Now imagine a woman in your experience deciding for herself that’s how she wants to pursue orgasm, and standing her ground that she’ll never have PIV sex again. I see that as brave, and wonderful. It doesn’t matter what I do in my sex life, which includes PIV. I’m not a factor in her sex life. But I applaud her, I support her. You could do the same while changing nothing else in your life, so why wouldn’t you?

“With another person I have only ever orgasmed from penetration by a penis, or fingers one time. When I have penetrative sex I pretty much orgasm every time, sometimes multiple times.”

I’m very glad you’re having orgasms. Lots of women don’t, so it’s exciting to hear that’s a big part of your sex life.

“On my own I can orgasm very easily from clitoral stimulation but never with someone else, and it's not like the guy I'm with doesn't try, he knows where the clitoris is, he actively and enthusiastically goes down on me.”

Another way to have sex is mutual masturbation, which you’re claiming doesn’t lead you to orgasm, which I’ll admit sounds strange to me. Why would stimulating your clit work with masturbation but not with a male partner? Are you so positive social conditioning isn’t playing a role here? In any case...

Another way to have sex, though some might disagree with me (I don’t care), is to masturbate together. As in separately. If you were to masturbate with him there doing idk whatever he’s doing (maybe he’s not even touching himself maybe he’s rubbing your feet or brushing your hair who knows), I call that sex and you have again successfully orgasm without penetration and by clitoral stimulation. So again, are you that different from other women?

Maybe, hopefully, this might give you some pause just to think about it. You don’t have to do anything different, but maybe you should think about it. What is so different about you? You don’t sound different or rare to me. You sound typical. Is there nothing to glean from PIV critical theory if you push past feeling uncomfortable, if you don’t treat it as a call to action, if you just sit with it an think about it? Maybe there is something scary on the otherside, but maybe with the new scary thought comes something exhilarating. Maybe there’s even more pleasure than you could even imagine. You will have to discover that for yourself.

“And I know this sounds like a non-issue,”

To circle this back to the first point, don’t speak for me :) Kindly meant, I will tell you what sounds like a non-issue to me.

“...a sort of "good for you, nobody else is like that" kind of thing. But I find it difficult to connect with a lot of sentiments about sex on here. A lot of it makes me feel like I can't talk about the way I experience sex and desire,”

Get over those feelings. You have a personal narrative, you can bring to the table your personal account. One of those pillars I mentioned above. But make sure you’re aware...your personal narrative is not enough to “call to action”, and is not a significant sample size to theorize.

Not to mention, this is tumblr. Like it’s a personal blog. Say whatever the fuck you want. If you’re not using tumblr for fun, I can’t imagine how you’re using tumblr. Like if it isn’t fun, go do something fun instead it’s better for you.

“because I sound like I'm sucking up to the patriarchy or to men. Centering male sexuality, even if I'm really not.”

Part of putting your feelings out in the world is that they might be met with criticisms. But it sounds like you want to do it, so get tough. Harden that skin. Get in there get messy, make mistakes. People are going to come at you with legitimate counters, and that should be so exciting and titillating. Don’t you want to learn? Don’t you want to grow? I’m getting so pumped thinking about it, women’s minds coming together to make an unique and interesting place on the internet, be still my heart.

And sometimes people say stuff that’s bullshit. Okay, so trust your own mind and judgement? Respond back. Tell them they’re wrong, present your argument, present your logic.

You have to make the value here, and if you’re not getting any value, again...maybe tumblr isn’t for you.

“Sorry to rant.”

I manifest for all women everywhere to stop apologizing to me for saying things from the heart. I could say sorry for writing 1000 words (I didn’t count) but I’m not going to fucking do that because I get to write whatever I want when I want. I don’t have to be sorry for existing and neither do you.

Cheers! :)

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caycanteven · 22 days

Text

Please be sure to check my blog rules to know what’s acceptable in my blog space!

About me!

Pronouns: She/Her/They/Them

I go by Cay, and I’m a narrative artist with a BFA in Game, Animation and Simulation Design, with an aspiration to be a game artist. I’m a coffee addict with an insatiable hunger for sushi. I listen to all genres of music but I lean heavily toward alternative soft metal core. Current fav band is Bad Omens with an occasional Glass Waves (indie artist, check them out!)

My Tumblr blog is for self indulgences, including Self Insert x Canon, OCxCanon, and occasional Self InsertxOC or whatever you’d call it. I draw for myself first and foremost.

CayCantEven or CayCantDraw?

CayCantEven is just a social handle that rolls off the tongue, and it's stuck so long I feel weird not using it lol. CayCantDraw is my freelance handle for all business exchanges. It's a fun play on words with an ironic twist to my skills as an artist.

What do you use for drawing?

I use ClipStudio Paint EX, and the tablet I use is a Huion Kamvas 20. I also have an iPad with Procreate for working on the go. I always have a sketchbook with me though despite being primarily a digital artist.

Do you take art/writing requests?

No, I don’t take requests. There are rare occasions where I may offer a poll for something an audience may want to see as a warmup or for fun, but primarily I do not accept requests via ask box or DMS. I appreciate the support via Kofi if you’d like to see something specific!

Do you take roleplay requests?

I don’t offer or take roleplay requests. I will only offer that, if ever, to close mutuals or friends who share that interest.

Do you take commissions?

Yep! I will post a couple days ahead of them opening to inform anyone interested. I use Google Forms to take commission requests and availability varies! If you have any other questions, I am open to questions via my inbox (will respond privately.) Check out my pinned for commission details!

Can I make fanart/fanfiction for you or for myself?

By all means, yes please! You are more than welcome to do that, and I would LOVE to see it too! Please be sure to tag me so I don’t miss out! Only condition for any fanart/fanfiction of my OCs/Sonas/Designs is that they are not portrayed in problematic/toxic scenarios. Please respect that some things make me uncomfortable. My characters are my acts of comfort shared with you, and I’d like them to be respected too.

What fandoms are you in?

I don’t seek out a lot of fandoms, but I do have hyper fixations. My main interests involve:

Undertale and Undertale AUs

Five Nights at Freddy’s

There are occasional times where I may appreciate designs of characters and post about it, but my blog is currently filled with handsome bones~

My Current Characters

Lex (Self Insert) and her variants.

Tags: #selfinsert lex, #cays selfinsert lex, #undertale selfinsert lex

Horrorfell Variants - Balsam (Sans) and Cypress (Papyrus)

Tags: #balsam Sans, #horrorfell balsam, #cypress papyrus, #horrorfell cypress, #cays horrorfell

SilvaTale AU (Original Slice of Life AU) - Buster (Sans) and Timber (Papyrus) Note: Currently being worked on. Questions are welcome.

Tags: #buster sans, #silvatale sans, #silvatale au, #silvatale buster, #silvatale papyrus, #timber papyrus, #silvatale timber

Can I interact with your characters?

Sure! Though please understand I'm really, really slow to responding to asks, and I get overwhelmed very easily. I know a lot of people like my characters--cough Balsam cough--and want to to ask them questions or leave affections. As long as you respect me and my characters, it's welcomed!

#text post #for the masterpost #please don't reblog lol #updated faq page

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itsclydebitches · 1 year

Note

By all means, go off about The Blacklist. What's it about? 👀

Bless you, anon, for indulging my current obsessions :D

OKAY so the premise is great imo. Elizabeth “Liz” Keen’s life is basically perfect. She’s married to a handsome, adoring, successful teacher. They’re very near to finishing the process of adopting their first child. Best of all, Liz is beginning her career as an FBI profiler. Today’s her first day on the job and, other than being a little late rolling out of bed, it’s going to be great!

Except for one teeny, tiny snag. An hour or so before she’s due in the office, Raymond “Red” Reddington, #1 on the FBI’s Most Wanted list, turns himself in. He offers himself up as the FBI’s informant, specifically feeding them info on what he refers to as the blacklist: a list of criminals so heinous, secretive, and downright dangerous that the FBI doesn’t even know they exist, let alone how to catch them. Red will serve up his fellow fugitives on a silver platter. The catch?

He'll only work with Liz.

So the FBI is like, “Why the fuck is the ‘concierge of crime’ interested in a newbie profiler who hasn’t even made it into work yet?” and Liz is also like, “Wtf, I don’t know him, why would Reddington be interested in me?” It’s the mystery at the heart of the whole show, interspersed among the stand-alone episodes where they go after blacklisters: who is Liz to Red? Because he is very protective of her. Accommodating. Downright adoring—or perhaps obsessive. But really, Spader is fantastic in the role and keeps things on the side of charmingly sweet (in a ‘I’ll kill huge swaths of people for you :)’ kinda way) as opposed to creepy, which I really like. Honestly, a good 75% of the show's appeal for me is in Red's characterization and Spader's performance.

The point though is that everyone wants to know why such a powerful, immoral man would go out of his way to not just work with Liz, but bend/break every rule he’s ever made—tear apart years of self-serving contingency plans—just to keep her safe. I mean, the whole thing starts with Red turning himself in, risking disappearing into some dark FBI hole, just for the chance to see her.

So is he in love with her? (Lizzington is a popular ship, despite—or perhaps in part because of—the May/December dynamic and frankly the show does a lot to feed that possibility. It's never going to be canon, but fans aren't just pulling this ship out of thin air either. Trust me. I went in expecting it to just be fans being fans and... it's not. It's really not.) Is he her father? (And now we see why lizzington is controversial lol.) Is he manipulating Liz? Are the two of them in on something together? Theories abound, with each season providing new clues and revelations, nine seasons so far in total… so you can see where I’m going with this. Frankly, it doesn’t add up. I knew as soon as I understood the premise and caught wind of the show’s length that there would be no satisfying resolution. You don’t pose a singular question like that and dole out supposed answers each season without eventually retconning the hell out of previous episodes, or dropping previously important reveals, or just plain making stuff up for the sake of drama rather than logic. It’s inevitable in a form with so many fingers in the writing pie and, having been spoiled for the later seasons, I know that this isn’t magically fixed along the way.

So that’s a definite flaw in the show, though one I fully expected and thus am pretty indifferent to. The far bigger issue I have is that, as said in my tag rant, poor Liz is barely allowed to be a character anymore. She’s treated as a plot device, with her emotions serving whatever the current conflict is, rather than occurring as a result of her experiences. As you can imagine, Liz has some complicated feelings about Red, but they’re far from logical or consistent. I’m not joking when I say that she’ll despise him at the start of one episode, be hugging him by the end, and then be back to wanting him cut from her life at the start of the next episode with no explanation as to why this change occurred. Much like RWBY, the viewer is forced to decide for themselves why Liz is constantly on an emotional roller coaster that defies gravity and though yes, there are PLENTY of potential explanations in the show—I think this woman has been through enough to have earned a blanket ‘You think she’s emotionally stable??’ justification—but from a writing perspective it’s less than satisfying to continually do the writer’s work for them. In some episodes things won't stay consistent between scenes and I want to kick down the responsible party's door to ask what the actual hell they were thinking.

It's the kind of show with a few key, GLARING problems and if you’re hoping for something tightly written that will neatly wrap up all your questions and presumed inconsistencies with a pretty bow… keep waiting. But I’m used to shows like that—it happens with most long-form action stories, frankly, especially if they’ve got a core mystery like Blacklist—so I’ve learned to prioritize other aspects. Like the cast of characters? Top notch. Liz and Red’s dynamic is obviously the heart of the show and as much as I prefer them getting along, Liz’s cyclical anger is compelling too, in large part because Red remains completely devoted to her, no matter what she throws at him or how badly she treats him. Not to overshare on main, but I cannot possibly emphasize enough what a sucker I am for a sophisticated bad guy who would burn the world for his loved one even when she hates him. Actually, especially when she hates him because oh no, no one can hate him more than he already hates himself.

We’ve got Dembe, Red’s right-hand man and all around badass with a marshmallow center. Ressler who I’m usually pretty meh about because he’s the boring by-the-book cop, but every once in a while he pulls some chaotic move out of left field that makes me cheer. Samar who is even more of a badass than Dembe and that’s REALLY saying something. Aram, easily one of my favorite quirky tech characters of all time: literal ball of sunshine who will nevertheless cut you if you threaten his found family. Their boss, Cooper, who seems like a hardass but ultimately treats his team like his kids (letting them get away with shit included). Tom, Liz’s husband, who is… complicated. Mr. Kaplan who you just need to watch to fully appreciate. The cast is A+

Which means I’m watching the stupidest plot-line man ever devised, or a character suddenly did a 180 with no explanation, and yeah that makes the meta-writing part of my brain seethe and bite her imaginary pillow to muffle screams of rage… but then the characters have A Moment™, or there’s an actually well done twist, or we get an action sequence that yeah, is pretty silly when all is said and done, but it’s fun and I remember why I want to watch this show through to the end. Not because I think the big mystery will have a satisfying conclusion and not even because I like a lot of the major plot-lines coming up (I don’t) but because I still like the characters and so long as they’re interacting together in interesting ways, I’ll keep tuning in.

Particularly when it comes to Liz and Red. For however badly their relationship is written at times, the underlying dynamic itself remains stellar: successful FBI agent vs. renowned criminal. Poetic charmer vs. down-to-earth realist. Answers vs. questions. Is she making him better? Is he making her worse? What are they to each other and, even if the show did define that clearly on some level, can it really be answered so easily? I don’t think so. The fact that some days my brain goes, “God they have such a good father-daughter-esque relationship” and other days it’s going, “I ship it 👀” and other days it’s just, “You two need to stay FAR AWAY from each other. I mean, I’m digging the dysfunction, but if you were real people holy shit” just speaks to the complexity here. As frustrating as it can be, the messiness is kinda fun too? They’re compelling and they make my brain go brrrr with possibilities and sometimes that’s all you need in a show!

At least for the first three seasons. Lets see how I feel after 3 times that lol

Thus ends my 1k+, mostly non-spoilery Blacklist ramble ✌️

#Blacklist #The Blacklist #Lizzington #mymetas

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otomes-and-tears · 8 months

Text

♦ Peach Blossoms ♦

► tags/warnings: Soulmate!AU, Shiloh x MC

► summary: Shiloh doesn't have a soulmate, but JB does.

► words: 889

► a/n: Hi! I know it has been ages since I've last posted, but the last few months have been very chaotic and I haven't really been able to finish anything. I didn't want to abandon this blog. I still love writing and fulfilling requests, even if I wasn't able to make time for it. Now I'm trying to get back to it, and I decided to start by finishing an incredibly self-indulgent fic I've had on the back burner for months!

► Masterlist

Shiloh always had a feeling he’d never have a mark.

It’s difficult to explain how and why, but it’s something that has been a part of him for as long as he can remember.

He never formed attachments as other people did. He’d make friends out of convenience, he’d obey the orders of the strongest and swiftly make his exit once they didn’t serve his purposes anymore. It was quick and painless, no affection involved. He didn’t really miss any of the people he left behind (aside from a lingering fondness for a childhood friend he hadn’t seen in too long) and didn’t think of them at all after they were gone.

And there was that terrible, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that whispered that there was no one waiting for him, no one mandated by the universe to love him.

It was comforting, even if it wasn’t nice.

No soulmate meant that he was free to do as he pleased, one less person to keep around long after they passed their usefulness, no one he’d have to explain himself to and no one to force him to change. it’s not like Shiloh doesn’t know the way that he does things is unusual, but it’s not like people don’t know they’re being used. They just like being flattered.

So the morning after his sixteenth birthday, when no new mark showed up on his wrist, he wasn’t upset or surprised.

It was just a confirmation of something he already knew.

He was different, and he was free to do as he wished.

So he pulled on his jacket, making sure that his wrists were properly hidden underneath his sleeves. At the very least, it would buy him enough time until he could figure out an excuse.

The weeks following weren’t too difficult.

People knew him well enough to know that he’d go along with whatever excuse they conjured up as to why he was so keen on hiding his wrist— his mark was scarred up because his soulmate was dead (he made sure to look very sad whenever that was brought up), his mark matched a celebrity (he effortlessly pretended to be flustered by it) or it was someone that he knew, but that didn’t share his match.

Only a few people bought the excuse that Shiloh wanted his soulmate to be the first person who’d see his mark. That made him seem like a romantic, and more people seeing him in a good light was a fine enough trade for all the jokes made about him being a slut.

There was always the pity too, of the possibility that bubbly, optimistic Shiloh was unlucky enough to be one of the unmarked.

The sad, few people that the universe didn’t care enough to think about.

Pity was generally an easy emotion to exploit, but it didn’t mean that deep down it didn’t annoy him to no end that people saw it this way, even if it was the truth.

Well, the truth never really mattered to him anyway.

JB was different.

There was something about how she carried herself, in her relentless confidence, her impulsiveness and her quick-witted responses to everything the jerks in their after-school group threw at her.

Her bubbliness, her pleased smile whenever he flirted back, the way her skin felt so soft and warm when he found an excuse to touch her. How easy JB was to understand and how quickly he was able to become someone she wanted to keep around, just as long as he kept showering her with compliments and acquiescing to her demands.

Shiloh was perceptive. Of course, he knew about the pink flowers on her wrist. His eyes zeroed in on it when she reached out to grab something or would roll up her sleeves in order to not dirty her uniform.

Peach blossoms. She had explained to him.

It means luck in love, beauty. All the things JB was sure she had.

There was absolutely no doubt in her mind that her soulmate would be absolutely perfect, that they would be the ultimate power couple and rule the world together if they so wished.

But before she found them, she wanted to see other people. JB wanted to have as much fun as possible before settling into the relationship she was meant to be in. I don’t want to live the rest of my life regretting not living to the fullest while I could, she told him, fingers brushing against her soulmark carefully, eyes filled with fondness for someone she didn’t yet know.

And Shiloh believed her. There was no way he couldn’t when she was so certain, so self-assured.

But he wanted her.

He felt drawn to her like he had never felt drawn to anyone else, nearing the point of obsession.

It didn’t really matter if she belonged to someone else.

He would make sure it wouldn’t be a problem.

If he didn’t have a soulmate, there was nothing that stopped him from being with whomever he pleased. The universe didn’t care enough to give him a connection, so he’d fabricate one of his own.

All for her. For them.

Monday morning, when he got to school, he had delicate peach blossoms perfectly drawn into the skin of his wrist, hidden away by his long sleeves.

#fun fact according to my flower language books peach blossoms mean “I am your captive” :D #bee's writing #xoxo droplets #shiloh fields #xod shiloh #xod #xod fanfiction #xod hc

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slashingdisneypasta · 2 years

Text

MultiVillains x Reader || Drabbles

Plots / Includes: Just some very short, very self indulgent, very fluffy drabbles of them taking care of you while you’re sick because I am dying (: (: (:

Human!Chucky Lee Ray: The bastard climbs through your window (Even though you have told him a million times that he is WELCOME to USE the FRONT DOOR.) not looking for much more than a hook up… and finds you curled up in bed; ‘Dying’, as you tell him.

Poly!Mayor Buckman and Granny Boone: You’ve been totally overworking yourself at the pub recently and today you wake up sick as a dog- and well, there’s no damn way that your partners are going to let you leave the house until you’re 100% better. *This is set in the world of This Oneshot, where they’re in love with you but you’re uncomfortable with the whole thing… but also subconsciously like them a lot too.

Wheezy Weasel: Turns out your boyfriend, who is not the picture of health himself, is actually quite good at taking care of people when they’re sick. You now know how the rest of the Toon Patrol have survived to adulthood. (Sidenote: Especially Smartass. That man does not stop to rest.)

Warnings: Boone and Buckman lightly kidnap you but only out of love, and Wheezy undresses you but its really not sexual at all. Its all fluff ^^

Tag list: @marinerainbow , @miss-understood and @astridflo

Human!Chucky Lee Ray:

“Easy does it, easy does it… agh!- “

The sound of Chucky toppling through your bedroom window rouses you from your heavy dozing session, and when all the pain comes back to your head and your nose starts dripping once again you let out your own groan; Throwing the blankets over your head to hide from the world. “Chuckyyyy!”

“Fuck, I always forget how high up this damn window is. You should put a step stool here for me, one of these days I’m gonna break my face.” He grumbles, making a cacophony of creaky and flappy sounds as he gets up and brushes himself off.

“Get outtt,” You groan again, squeezing your eyes shut. His loud voice is grating on your very sensitive earbuds right now. Feeling the bed dip beside your hips, you assume Chucky has sat down and when a hand lands on your waist, you sigh. “… I’m sick, Chucky… “It would be nice if he would comfort you, but you kinda doubt it.

“Ohh… Yeah, that explains the clinical atmosphere in here. You at deaths fucken door, or something?”

Sniffling, you roll over under his hand to face him and nod under the covers. “Yes.”

“You are not, shut up.” Despite his annoyingly harsh words, Chucky slides down to lay on the mattress next to you, above the covers though. “Well, guess I’m not getting any… go back to sleep, then. Just stay under those blankets, I don’t need to be catching whatever disease you caught.”

Peaking just your eyes out from under the blanket and your noise is as nasally as it gets- it makes him snigger but you ignore it. “You’re staying?”

He smirks, yanking the blankets back up over the rest of your head. “It’d be kinda of rude of me, to turn up here to fuck you but just leave cuz I can’t… wouldn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Then I guess I’m staying here.”

“… Thank you.” You know Chucky’s not great with his emotions, he’s always either too hot or too cold but this is an uncharacteristically soft moment for him- you’re going to enjoy it while it lasts.

It jostles you when he moves to get comfortable, stealing a pillow that was half under your head and folding it under his own, sleep entering him voice as he settles down. “Mhm.” Okay. Comforted by the fact he’s going to stay, you let your heavy eyelids fall shut again and snuggle closer to his warm body. “… mm, sleep tight… “

Poly!Mayor Buckman and Granny Boone:

At first when you wake up and force your body up into a sitting position, you have no clue where you are. You’re squinting around at the unfamiliar bedroom you’re in all alone, feeling a confused sense of dread flood your blood stream- the kind where you don’t move a muscle, just your eyes as you gaze about the room and try to figure out the puzzle.

… Until you’re suddenly thrown into the worst coughing fit of your life- just really terrible. It make syour eyes water and mucus build up in your throat. When it’s over, thankfully, you give a big, terrible sniffle and groan long and hard into your hands. Whatttttttttttttt? No… I can’t be sick… Noooooo… You have a business to be running! Where the fuck are you and where did this virus come from? None of this will at all do-

“You’re awake, then! ~ “The door immediately across from you opens up then, and you’re not even surprised at who comes in- exasperated, yes. Nauseous at the sight of syrup drenched pancakes in her hands, yes.

But not surprised.

“Boone… “You start, and find that you’re voice is as course as it gets, and promptly lose your mouth because- ow.

“I think you should go back to sleep for a while, but I got you some breakfast here to pick at first! You need your strength, sweetheart~ “

I’m not your sweetheart, you think, giving her a deadpanned glare as she comes forward with the stack of sugar dressed up as Breakfast. Usually pancakes would make you happy, but right now with how you’re feeling and your sore throat? Hell no. Just smelling them make you feel like being sick. “… that’s okay.” You force out, despite the pain. “I’m fine. I’m just going to go to wor- “

“Your throat must be killing you,” Boone laments, ignoring you entirely as she sinks down on the bed beside you. “Georges coming with some lemon and honey tea, that’ll fix it right up!”

… that actually does sound pretty helpful. “Thank you, but- “

“Don’t talk honey, we’ve got you.” Boone cuts you off again. Yes, that would be the problem, you sigh in resignation, but go totally stiff when the woman reaches over and tucks some of your hair behind your ear; A deeply concerned look on her face. “Where is that old bastard with the tea?” She seems to mutter to herself, then, and you’re rolling your eyes when he appears.

The mayor takes a seat on the opposite of your legs that Boone is on and wraps your hands around the mug in your lap, wrapped in a tea towel so it doesn’t hurt to hold. “Goodmorning darlin!~ Gotcha some tea, here- careful, its hot.”

Yep- not your darling. But thanks, I didn’t realise that tea was hot. Nodding gratefully nonetheless of your sarcastic inner thoughts, you cup the mug carefully in your lap and your body actually relaxes to the smell- embarrassingly enough. You can feel the stuffiness in your head clearing as the steam wafts up to your face.

Boone’s feeling your forehead, which must feel like a kettle, and frowning. “Make sure you force some food down, too, an empty stomach’ll just make it all worse.”

Taking a glance at the pancake sin her lap, you press your lips together in a straight line quickly and look away. “… How did I get here? Y’all didn’t kidnap me, did you?”

It was a joke, apparently a poor one though because Buckman almost looks guilty when he goes to answer. “Well… not per say… I don’t think… “

What!? “Not per say??”

“Well, you fainted at the pub and we- well, we made an executive decision to just… take you home after that.” Honestly, it’s a mystery to you sometimes that he is the smooth talker in this damn town. You open your mouth to say something about his lack of tact, when the full meaning of his words set in.

“- I fainted??!”

“You’ve been workin’ real hard lately, sweetheart,” Boone explains, producing a damp cloth from a bowl on the side table and pressing it gently to your head. At the same time, her husband pats your hand, and- And it feels good, damnit! You wish you would have the strength right then to fly out of there like a bat from hell, but you just… don’t. Too tired, too sick… too weak. “It was likely to catch up to ya eventually- you really shouldn’t push yourself so hard... ”

“I’m fine- “

“Oh, so you don’t mind collapsin’ on the floor in front of the whole darn town every now and then?” Buckman cuts in, raising his brows at you- to which you roll your eyes at and turn away from him. Well, no, you don’t enjoy that. “In that case, maybe we should just install some mats- “Turning to Boone, he continues the lark and if looks could kill then your mayor would be dead and buried by now. “What do you think, dear, bear skin or cotton?”

“I’d say both, considering the big ol’ egg forming on their forehead here.” Oh, so it will be twin graves.

“So right.”

“… “Cheeks warm from more than just your fever, you glare at them both hard for a good moment, before being angry at all becomes too exhausting a thought and you just give a deeply frustrated sigh; Lifting the mug to your face and avoiding eye contact with either of them.

Hopefully you get better real quick.

Wheezy Weasel:

As soon as you admitted that you were sick, Wheezy had you up on your feet and was marching you off to the bathroom. “C’mon… “He mumbles in that lazy drawl of his, closing the door behind you both. You stand there with your arms crossed, just struggling to stand as you watch him reach into the shower and turn the taps on. He feels until the water is a good, hot temperature and steam billows out of the cubical before stepping back and gesturing with his thumb to the stream. “Test that,”

While you reach in delicately and check it yourself, nodding when you get used to it quickly, Wheezy kneels down and starts unlacing your shoes. You drop your arm back down to your side, the limb too heavy to hold up for long, and give your boyfriend a little peculiar smile. “Wheezy… “

“Just relax Y/N, I aint gonna try anything.”

“I believe you… “You’ve been together for nearly half your lives now, seeing eachother naked is not a big deal. I mean, you like it of course, but it doesn’t have to be about- its not always- there’s not always a sexual undertone. You feel comfortable with him, is what you mean.

“Okay, step outta those.”

As you follow his instructions, slipping your feet easily out of the sneakers that he loosened up for you, he gets up again and unbuttons your shirt. “I can take care of myself, you know?”

He gives a huff and rolls his eyes. “As a matter a fact, no, I don’t know that. You tried to go t’ work today. So that means, I’m in charge now.” You can’t help the little, tired grin on your face as you let him help you out of your shirt, even holding your arms up for him when he guides them up into the air so that he can lift your undershirt carefully over your head. “So deal with it.”

“Yes sir.” You tease, getting a rough chuckle from the smoker as he moves onto your pants. Getting more and more tired the more you stand, you take advantage of his presence in front of you and wrap your arms over his shoulders to help hold you up; Letting your head fall forward and your eyelids fall shut while he focuses on unbuckling, unbuttoning and unzipping your bottoms.

Once he shoves your pants and underwear down, you step out of them and he chucks your discarded outfit onto the bench before guiding you towards the shower. “Alright, lock the door when I leave. Don’t need Greasy or Psycho waltzing in here while yer relaxin’.”

“Hmm,” You hum, eyes still closed. When he gives you a kiss on the forehead, though, you open them up slowly and look up at him only slightly adoringly… okay super adoringly, because he’s perfect and oddly kind and you know you’re so lucky to have him. “Okie.”

With his hand still cupping half your face, Wheezy gives you a half stern look. “Stay in there until you feel your sinuses loosen up, okay?”

“Yep~ “

“I’ll bring ya pyjama’s in a couple minutes and leave ‘em on the floor outside. Then go straight t’ bed, and I’ll bring ya some soup.”

“Yes sir… “

“Hm,” He huffs again, a lazy smirk spreading across his face for a moment before he gives you another forehead kiss, pats your back, and leave you to it.

#Drabbles #Charles Lee Ray x Reader #Chucky Lee Ray x Reader #Chucky x Reader #Granny Boone x Reader #Mayor Buckman x Reader #Poly!Mayor Buckman and Granny Boone x Reader #Wheezy Weasel x Reader #MultiVillains x Reader Drabbles #MultiVillains x Reader

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