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#I hope I wasn't too rude!
butwhatifidothis · 2 years
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why are Rhea and Claude allowed to lie or kill for the ‘greater good’, but edelgard is the one who is evil for it when she literally had no other way but to go along with theagarthians who had power over her she only got agency back when she got byleth and others near the end ( and was able to find agarthian base ( if she stepped out of line she would be killed
Because that is not why Edelgard does what she does. By her own admission. Multiple times.
You can maybe, perhaps, argue that she couldn't fight back against TWS or whatever - I don't agree due to her attitude and words whenever she confronts them, but that's besides the point. Because never once is fear for what TWS will do to her ever stated to be why Edelgard starts her war.
She starts her war because, along with getting rid of the Church, she wants to eliminate Faerghus and Leicester and force them back under Adestria's banner. This is what she explicitly states at the end of the literal first cutscene she's in upon the player entering CF's timeskip. She starts her war because she wants to get rid of the Nabateans. This is what she explicitly says at the beginning and near the end of CF, her S support and even a cutscene right before the timeskip happens. She has been planning this war for what is implied to be years - a long time, certainly (links goes to a post I made that'd already went over this point specifically).
And all of the things she says she's starting her war over - the Church's corruption and its control over Faerghus and Leicester, who themselves are also corrupt - fall incredibly flat. The Western Church in Faerghus is in open revolt with the Central Church. The Eastern Church has no power at all - the lords of the Alliance don't even pray out of fear of not doing so (since they're the ones who hold power over the Eastern Church), but purely because it makes them look better. And all of the "corruption" the Church is accused of is stuff that Edelgard herself does. Lying to the public and even hiding the truth from close friends (two links refer to one incident), violently suppressing everyone who rejects her violent regime, wanting to rule Fodlan - it's shit she either does or even flat out admits to doing herself.
Compare that to Rhea. She lies about the origins of Crests and the true nature of Nemesis and the Elites. Why? To protect her family from extremely likely danger were the truth of Crests ever to come out - something that she, nevertheless, recognizes wasn't good of her to do (and is proven right to worry about as seen by Flayn’s kidnapping because of her Nabatean blood). She banned certain technologies for a time. Why? Because the last time humanity had hold of advanced technology (that they'd gotten from Nabateans mind) they blew up Fodlan and she felt it prudent to prevent that from happening again - something that, in any case, she obviously retracted at some point (as all of the banned items appear in some way in the game). She creates homunculi to be used as vessels for Sothis to enter and regain consciousness in. Why? Because she feels that Sothis is the only one that can help Fodlan due to her immense power - something that, in any case, she admits was wrong of her to do, and when a vessel gained consciousness she treated them as their own person (though this takes longer with Byleth). And Rhea, in WC, only ever kills people who have already threatened either her life or the lives of others.
Compare that to Claude. He lies about the truth of his origins. Why? Because he knows that should his mixed-race heritage be revealed in Fodlan it would put him in extreme danger and prevent him from achieving his dreams - something that is proven right of him to worry about, once the DLC dropped. He manipulates Byleth into joining his side. Why? Because he feels he needs the power the SotC gives him in order to achieve his dreams - something that he grows out of through the course of GD/VW. When Claude kills it is either because of 1) people trying to kill him first, or 2) the war that Edelgard started.
Edelgard is the villain for doing what she does because she is doing the things she does for morally bankrupt, selfish, and horrific reasons (when they're not flat out wrong) and through morally bankrupt, selfish, and horrific methods. She never apologizes for any of the things she's done to people. She never grows out of doing these things to people. Unlike Rhea and Claude, who learn to develop past their flaws (even as understandable as those flaws may be), Edelgard makes no effort to amend her violent imperialism, or her flagrant racism, or her use of violent and inhumane methods of getting what she wants.
None of this has to do with TWS. They didn't force her to have the want to eliminate Faerghus and Leicester, they didn't make her say the dehumanizing things she says about the Nabateans - that was all Edelgard. And I'm sorry, trying to compare her to Rhea and especially Claude (who, let's be honest, does nothing like these two do) as standing on similarly morally high ground by distilling all that they've done as "lying and killing" while overlooking all of the context surrounding the three of them is... not the most fair argument to make
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nobie · 13 days
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i just had one of those sweet southern interactions with my neighbor trying to set me up with her nephew. but i didn't want to be mean and shut her down with "I'm gay." so i just said "i'm not looking for anybody right now."
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feroluce · 1 year
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incredibly sexy of you to be blankshipping on main and in the tags <3 and with incredible takes and ideas on top of that!
Thank you Anon, it's so hard having the biggest dick in the room, but someone has to do it 😔
As a slightly? more serious answer, I think it's good and even important to have people being loud and proud and totally self-accepting on main in the proship circles. Like there needs to be someone showing the people who got bought in on the anti stances and are then beating themselves up for totally normal things that it's ok. You aren't a bad person just for liking something problematic about a play-pretend character in a make-believe scenario and you don't need to sink into self-loathing over such a thing.
Because some of them are in actual agony over this stuff, and some of them have already accepted this about themselves but are too deep in the anti circles now, so they'd lose their entire support system if they were outed. Not to mention how creepily violent and invasive antis get about proshippers- and as someone in actual anti spaces, you'd have a front row seat to all the atrocities people would wish on you, or maybe even go so far as to commit them themselves.
Like you know how people talk about extremely strict religious parents? How they would try to control a lot of the thoughts and actions in their child's life? And then sometimes even get violent when they didn't comply? All while excusing it as trying to keep them from sinning or being a bad person? It's the exact same thing. And it has a lot of the same effects, too. Antis aren't beating the problematic out of each other. They're just plain beating and traumatizing each other and then making each other into better liars who secretly hang out on the proship servers on the downlow.
And it sucks! It sucks so bad! Because I've talked to people in those exact situations and like. Especially the fact that a lot of them are still young. Like barely young adults. Some of them are still technically teenagers. They shouldn't be dealing with this bullshit at what's already such a tender and difficult age. And it makes my heart ache and my blood boil because some of them are outright scared and there's just not a lot that I can do about it. You can't shield or protect someone from all of that and it sucks.
So like yeah I'm gonna be noisy and annoying and yowl right on main because at least with that I can give people somewhere to go where they feel decently safe and accepted, even if they never interact once. That's what got us the blankshipping server, because our creator was in the anti servers while sending me blankshipping asks and decided "you know what this sucks actually" lol. That's what brought in a lot of our members, because I could yell my heart out into the void here and! People heard! And then they joined the server and found a place they could finally breathe! And it's so much fun in there now!! ♡
Anyway tl;dr thank you dear lovely Anon you are entirely correct I am incredibly sexy and everyone desires me carnally and my dick is huge and I haunt the submas servers with how I live in their minds rent free skzjkdksjd
#my heart goes out to the people caught in such terrible sticky situations like this#I got an ask once where they forgot to put it on anon and then got a dm from the same person where they were PANICKING about it#because they were so scared that I was going to accidentally out them by answering the ask#(if you see this sweetheart then I hope you know I'm rooting for you and I've never told a soul- not even my fellow shippers;#that secret comes with me to my grave)#this is also why I always keep anon on- I'd rather let the people in hiding or on the fence interact safely than not at all#like god but for real though#my biggest respect to the shippers who are able to lay low and control themselves#they used my name to test the blackout/censorship/whatever you call it function in the anti server and like#I just know if I'd been online at the time I wouldn't have been able to help myself#I would have given up my secret identity in a heartbeat for the bit#because it was just a bunch of people chanting my name like they were playing Bloody fuckin Mary and I woulda popped my head in there like#'yes you rang' BSKKDJXKDKDK#funniest fucking thing I'd ever seen it made my entire week I was in PUBLIC at the time out to lunch with my MOTHER#do you guys have any idea how horribly I must have failed at keeping a straight face BSKDKJZKSKKKD#and then I accidentally got drunk on too much rum and went to a craft show it was a good day dfkljadfkakda#I used to love seeing the blocklists every week too because my name was always at the top but then they started alphabetizing it rude orz#I think the last one I saw was from somewhere else though bc it wasn't alphabetized and DINGO was 2nd from the top while I was way below#*shakes fist* HOW DARE YOU DINGO#I almost didn't wanna answer this ask I wanted to keep it because it gives me warm fuzzies thank you anon haha#the horrors never cease but fun little things like this make it easier <3#ask#answer#anon
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alinakerrin · 4 months
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just had to put a fic on user comments only for the first time ever. Reminder to all of you that fic is a privilege and you will be denied it if you don't behave yourselves
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hapigairu · 9 months
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That's Brave Lysithea and that character is confirmed to come from post-Verdant Wind. She has a conversation with Brave Edelgard, Brave Claude and Brave Dimitri where they confirm they're all from different timelines where they won except for Claude & Lysithea who confirm that they come from the same timeline and Lysithea explains that Claude went back to Almyra to become king. Lysithea really does just believe that Edelgard is right. She'll even talk about avenging Edelgard in Japanese in the final chapter of Verdant Wind. Lysithea is written to be a bit of a mini-Edelgard.
Ah, got it, thank you!
So we got a Brave Lysithea while my boy Felix was stuck in Christmas limbo for ages (thankfully, he got free), I see how it is.
I can understand Lysithea feeling a certain closeness with Edelgard, it makes sense. They went through a similar experience, and I can see Lysithea wanting to avenge her by getting rid of the Agarthans. No problem here. And it’s not difficult to see why she’d have her issues with Crests. After all, if Crests aren’t a thing anymore (which.. isn’t happening anytime soon even post-CF), then it stands to reason no one would suffer like she did.
The main issue for me is that what she went through hasn’t much to do with nobility being determined on whether or not one bears a Crest. House Ordelia helped House Hrym in their failed rebellion. As a result, the Empire took over House Ordelia and sent Agarthan mages there to experiment on Lysithea and her siblings. She’s very much aware of that since she’s the one to tell Byleth about her past. And she’s supposed to be a smart girl who spends most of her time studying, how can she not know about all those Crestless nobles? For example, she has supports with Annette, so (assuming they have had conversations outside of their support chain) she’d know that Annette, despite bearing the Crest of Dominic, isn’t set to inherit her family’s title (a mere Barony btw, and Baron Dominic doesn’t even have a Crest IIRC) and couldn’t pay the Officers Academy’s fee out of her pocket so she had to work extra hard to find a way. Hilda has a Crest and yet, it’s her Crestless brother who becomes the head of House Goneril, Judith doesn’t have a Crest either and yet… There are just too many examples that debunk Edelgard’s rhetoric, even in the Empire, and I find it very hard to believe that Lysithea would just agree with her without reservation.
Also, Fodlan’s societies being somewhat inconsistent wouldn’t be too much of a problem in itself, no society has 100% coherent systems or rules, after all. But you can’t have a character say A, the lore (through texts, gameplay, other characters) and then consider said character’s word as absolute truth. If Edelgard is right, then we should get more than her words. And characters uncritically agreeing with her doesn’t count if it’s not backed by what the lore actually shows you.
So, is it because Edelgard bears the Crest of Flames so people around can’t help being convinced by her? That would explain why the BE are all so head over heels about her, I guess…
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i wish my subconscious was a sentient separate part of myself so i could ask it questions mainly WHAT and more importantly WHY THE FUCK did it make me dream that
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msommers · 1 year
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the vibe after spending a mere few minutes thinking about meredith's pre-blight connections and how they drastically change after like 11-18 months
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a-b-riddle · 24 days
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Part Six
Can't stop thinking about reader finally giving the boys a taste of their own medicine. And hurting my own feelings in the process of it all. I wanted to make this a baddie reader chapter, but its just a saddie reader chapter. I played Down Bad by T.S on repeat while writing this. Y'all need to thank @blueladys-world for being my ventor for this part.
None of them came the next day to pick up the box of everything you had collected. By everything, quite literally everything. Birthday cards and gifts. Keepsakes from your time together they had given you. Even going as far as returning lingerie they had given you. You didn't want any trace of them in your home anymore. You were gonna have to work hard in rebuilding it to be your safe space once again.
You were surprised that someone from the expo had DM'd you. Renée was an author who had tried to stop by to your stand, but got too caught up in the day. She was in London, working on her next series installment and wanted to pick your brain. Writer to writer.
The two of you agreed on a time. She had mentioned wanting to try this restaurant the last time she visited and you already knew you would be putting that meal on a credit card. It was a bit of splurge, but after the past week you deserved it. You could even wear that sexy black number that had been collecting dust in your closet.
By the time you were done getting ready and squeezing into your dress, you looked more ready for a date than dinner with a colleague.
A colleague. You had a colleague!!!
The knock on the door pulled you from your girlish glee. You didn't need to guess who it was. Your friends knew to text you before they came over and Renée had agreed just to meet you at the restaurant.
It was one of them.
You didn't even t bother looking through your peephole before you opened the door to find Johnny standing there with a floral arrangement of your favorite flowers.
Johnny began to speak, afraid you were going to shut him down immediately no less. But no words came out. His eyes traveled up and down your body, taking you in.
A vision.
You wanted to snap at him that your eyes weren't located on your hips. But damn if it didn’t feel empowering seeing Johnny’s gaze gloss over.
"Fuck me." He swore, gathering his bearings before realizing you were dressed. In a sexy black dress and heels and makeup and oh, fuck you were going out. "Where are you going?"
"First off, none of your business," you said holding a finger up. "And secondly, what are you doing here?"
"Listen," "Bon-"
"The box is right there." You said pointing to a large cardboard box on the floor. "That's everything."
"If you just let me make it-"
"Up to me?" You cut him off again. "I'm over it. Really."
"Just give me a chance."
"Either you haven't spoken to the other two to know I am well and truly done with this situationship, or you’re hoping some half-ass apology and flowers will let you get a last fuck in and the skedaddle. So hopefully if it was latter, hopefully the former answered that for ya.”
So if that's all you came here for, I've got to get going. My reservation is at seven and it's rude to keep a friend waiting."
"It's been a week and you're already going on a date?" He accused.
"Who said anything about a date?" You didn't outright say it wasn't. Where would be the fun in that? “It's just dinner with a colleague.” You didn’t want to lie. It wasn’t a date. But you didn’t need to say it was a woman. “Hardly a date.”
“Look at the sight of ye!" He said, taking the opportunity to take a quick look at how deliciously your ass filled that dress. “A fookin’ dinner with a colleague. Like one of us would show up to a briefing like that.” You opened your compact. Not needed in the age of cellphones but loving the feminine touch.
There was something so... seductive about using a compact mirror to apply your lipstick.
“Kyle does have the legs for this dress.” You said, applying that lipstick he loves. That same shade that looked beautiful on your lips. The same lipstick you would mark all over Johnny’s body. “Believe what you want. Not my problem anymore.”
You put your compact back in your purse along with the lipstick in case you needed to reapply it after dinner.
Johnny's eyes zeroed in on your lips before his eyes met yours. That's when you felt it again. That undeniably spark of chemistry that you had with him. With all of them. That feeling that sucked the very breath from your lungs and for a moment all you could see was the man in front of you.
"Bonnie," he said placing his hands on your neck. His thumbs stroking your cheeks softly. "Just one more chance." He begged, his voice breaking. "I'm a fucking git, but I won't let you go again. I won't leave." You knew that when it came to promises, Johnny had proven that even if he didn't mean to break them, he had forgotten he made them in the first place.
But in that moment you didn't care. Even after everything, Meredith was right. You had loved them. Everything else had ended so shitty. John had blamed you. Kyle had only shown up until it was too late. And Simon. The last time you would ever hear his voice was after he said such cruel things to you.
No.
If you were done with Johnny, you won't let the last time he fucked you being a quick, rough fuck doggystyle before leaving you naked and alone in your bed.
No. The last time with Johnny needed to be good. It might make it harder to finally leave, but you needed this. You needed to know that he could still make love to you and not just fuck you like an animal in heat.
"Johnny?" You asked. Your mouth dangerously close to his. "I don't want you to fuck me."
"I don't have to," he said, starting to take a step back to give you some space before your hands reached his. Holding him in place.
He can't let you go. You couldn't let him go. Not yet. Just one more. You needed just one more time to get him out of your system. The closure you needed.
"Make love to me." You begged, your eyes pleading. "I need to know that I wasn't just something you wanted to fuck." You don't move as his eyes search yours, looking for reassurance. When you nod, his mouth softly touches your own.
His hands travel along your body, but never fully leave you. Sliding your neck to your back. Pulling your body closer to his. A hand placed on your hip so tightly he's afraid you might disappear.
There's no rush, no haste in his touch. His mouth not eager to devour you.
He's slow. With his hands, his tongue. Even when he picks you up and walks to your bedroom with your legs around his waist.
He doesn't throw you on the bed.
Not this time.
He lays you down. His body laying on top of yours. His hand skimming along your bare thighs, but not daring to travel any higher.
But damn you needed him. You wanted love making, but if he didn't get inside you soon, you weren't sure you could let him go after this. You weren't sure you would be able to leave.
"Johnny," you whimpered, pulling away from his mouth. "Please." You took his hand, putting it between your thigh. Aching for any friction.
He obeyed without hesitation. If you told him to get on his bark, he would in that moment. Anything to make you happy. Anything to keep you.
"Got to get you out of this dress first." He resting on his knees before he began to slide the black satin from your thighs to your stomach. You maneuvered, helping him undress you leaving you in nothing.
"I thought you liked the dress." You couldn't help, but tease. Your hand finding its home on the back of his neck, pulling you to him once more.
In a tone lacking any note of humor and in all seriousness, he looked at you. Really looking at you. Taking in how your smile reached your beautiful eyes before he said, "I want you bare to me when I take you."
You felt your stomach flutter at his words before he began to take off his clothes.
He joined you again. His body relaxing when they got between your legs again. His mouth traveled from your exposed neck to your nipples. Sucking and flicking them with his tongue until your back arched. Pressing harder into his mouth.
Your hands tangled in his soft brown hair before you boldly guided him to your already dripping core. He slid down your body before his hands began to push your knees apart until you were fully expose to him.
With your knees bent, Johnny settled on his stomach, placing soft kisses on your soft inner thighs. God, did he love seeing you squirm. He smiled at your tortured expression before looking down at your sex. "There she is." He said before placing a kiss on your pussy.
It wasn't sloppy. He wasn't diving in and licking at your center like so many times before. He was kissing it just as tenderly as he kissed your mouth. Slowly building it deeper and deeper. Adding tongue. Breaking away to readjust his head.
The delicious ache between your thighs began to become to unbearable. "Need you inside me." You panted. "Johnny-"
"Shhh." He soothed. "Got to warm you up first , Bonnie." He said before slipping his finger inside of you. One was all it took before your head settled against the pillows again. When your body relaxed, he added another. He would need to add three to make sure you were good and ready.
His digits stroked that spongy spot inside of you that made your toes curl. "You're barely fitting around my fingers." Johnny was a good 6 inches in length, but the girth is what always did you in. It hurt to take anything past his head into your mouth. If you fucked him without any preparation, especially after a week of no sex, he would tear you into too.
His tongue caressed your clit, your eyes squeezing shut as you felt your first orgasm creeping up on you.
"Johnny." You moaned, your fingers running through his soft brown hair.
"Give it to me, beauty." He panted. "Come on my face. Squeeze my fingers, Lass." He begged before his mouth went back to you.
It was like lightning. Your body now sensitive after being forsaken for so long. Your vision blurred and before you could process it, Johnny was sitting on his haunches between your legs, stroking his cock.
You could only nod, dazed and barely keeping a grip onto the reality of what this was.
The end.
He leaned forward, his cock nestling against you. You knew this was going to be nothing compared to his fingers. "Tell me if I need to stop."
You smiled, mockingly. Reminding him, "Not our first time together, Johnny." just our last.
"You were wrapped tight around my fingers." He gave a half smile before kissing your forehead. The gesture like a knife twisting in your heart. "I just don't want to hurt you."
"I'm ready." You brought your legs around his waist again. Pulling him to you, your arms wrapping around his neck as your mouths meet.
He presses into you. The head of his cock sliding inside just one or two inches. You body contracting around him in a small spasm. He swallows your moan and lets you adjust. He pulls away before looking down where the two of you meet.
"I could die like this, Lass." He said, his breath coming out unsteady as he tries his best to control himself. So close to just burying himself inside of you to the fucking hilt. "Seeing you like this is this first thing I want to see when I make it to the other side." You let out a choked cry as he pushes deeper inside you. Another inch. And another. And another until you're taking all of him.
He slurs something that sound like "fuck", but you are in too much of a daze to care. You arch into him, trying to get closer.
His thrusts are slow and deep. His pubic bone brushing against your clit making you whine and squirm. Begging for more.
You're not sure how long he had fucked you like that.
You needed it to stop.
You couldn't handle it. The softness. His words.
I could die like this, Lass.
Your lip quivered as you told him you wanted to be on top. You needed a moment. A chance to create a bit of space before he shattered your world yet again.
He pulled out. His absence already making you ache for him again before he settled beside you.
You squatted above his cock. Your feet flat against the mattress as you grabbed his hardness and slipping it inside of you. The sound you let out was pornographic. A high pitched, soft moan slipping from your lips as he buried himself inside of you again.
You placed you hands on his chest. Using the leverage to ride him. Your arms serving as barrier for you to get your bearings.
You used his body just as he had used yours. Throwing your head back, you moved faster and faster. Readjusting so your hands went from his chest to his stomach, giving him a better view of your connecting bodies.
His hand slips between the two of you, thumb pressing against your clit, and you tighten even more around. A needy whimper coming out of your throat. The sound mixing in with the sounds of his labored breathing and slapping skin as he begins to fuck up into you.
Even though he had been doing all the work for the last several minutes, you felt the tension start to creep into your calf.
"Fuck fuck fuck." You screech, barely able to hold yourself up any longer. "Ow." You hissed as the cramp took hold.
"Leg cramp?" He asked, not even faltering in his thrusts. You pathetically nod before he takes it upon himself to flip you on your back again.
"I'm going to do this every chance I can." He promises, pressing a searing kiss onto your exposed neck. "Any chance you'll give me." You can't take it. His words, his mouth, his fucking cock. It's too much. "I'm going to show you how much I want you. How much I want to fucking worship ye. Do anything to make you feel good. Not going to leave you again like that, Bonnie."
You reach for him again, pull him into a searing kiss just to shut him up. You need him to shut up. You couldn't take his false promises. You wouldn't survive it. Couldn't.
"Shit." His thrusts quicken, his thumb returning to your swollen bud. Flicking it in a way he had crafted into an art. He buries his face into your neck and you know he's getting close.
You weren't too far behind.
He didn't want to come, not yet, but this was fully out of his control. It was pathetic. A week without sex and you had him nearly coming in the first ten minutes.
But that's what you want. To see him lost in the idea that you would stay.
"Johnny." You groan out. "Please. Cum inside me."
He draws fast, beautiful circles around your clit that immediately push you over the edge. You shut your eyes tight, squeezing him like a vice as you come in strong waves, continuing to push inside you.
in out in out in out.
Deliciously clenching around him tighter and tighter until he can't take it anymore.
"Fuck," he says again, and you see it in his face, and you see it in his face, the second it's all over for him. You want to sear the image in your head. Keep it there forever. Knowing you'll never see it again. The way those enchanting blue eyes squint nearly shut before closing in complete ecstacy.
His mouth would open. A moan caught in his throat that he isn't ready to let go.
His hand closes around your hip, holding you to him while he presses as far as he can go, and it's only then do you feel his cock twitch in quick, jerky movements. He moans out your name before taking your mouth into a searing kiss.
"I fucking love you." He says. "So fucking much."
He was still under the blanket when you returned from the bathroom. You picked up your clothes up from the floor. Looking at the clock realizing you had less than five minutes to get out the door before you would be late for dinner.
"What are you doing?" he asked. You couldn't look at him. Hearing the panic in his voice almost made you stop. Tell him it really was just dinner with a colleague. A woman. That you would be back. Beg him to wait until you came home.
"I can't cancel on the dinner." You said slipping your feet into your heels. "This was a mistake."
You weren't sure why you said it. You weren't sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself. If you wanted to hurt him or make him think you regretted it when you would truthfully do it again. You would do it again and again. You would never stop.
Like Johnny, you could have died in that moment, but for a completely different. Where he would be content, you would be saved from the pain. The pain currently coursing throughout your very soul.
"Lock the door behind you." You say as you practically sprint out the bedroom. Only slowing in your stride to snatch your purse off the kitchen counter before running out. The door slamming behind you.
The restaurant was nicer than you expected. The wine alone was the price of an entree. You didn't seem to be phased at all and were relieved when Renée insisted on picking up the bill.
Your dinner had been delicious and the conversation even better. Renée wrote fantasy romance and wanted to pick your brain about a Why Choose. You had nearly spent out the over priced wine you weren't even really enjoying. Oh the irony.
"It's like all the rage now, but it's hard to make more than one appealing as the love interest. You should have seen the Goodreads comments on my last book. So many people bitched about my FMC not ending up with a character who was quite literally her adopted brother."
"So," you took a breath trying to find the words. "I'm going to be honest. I only read your latest book and I loved Luka. But I can't compare him to other MMCs you've written about so I don't know if they are similar or different. But what I can say is that I'm seeing like this trend of MMCs where they are all this dark-haired, brooding or mysterious character who dislikes mostly everyone and is only soft for either a select few or only the FMC."
"I think if you are going to write a Why Choose you need to think of guys you wouldn't mind falling in love with." You couldn't help, but think of what drew you to your boys. "One could be the leader. Someone who isn't afraid to have his neck on the line. To make sure everyone else is taken care of and being strong enough to handle the stress of that. He would be big on words of affirmation. Lifting the FMC up. For me, it would be someone that I know will take care of business. He's confident in his decision. That confidence would extend to me." You clear your throat. "If I was the FMC, that is."
"Okay." She nodded, pulling out a pen and notepad. "You don't mind if I-"
"I don't write about polygamy." Crossed that bridge. Currently trying to burn it. "So feel free."
"Another could be the one who it's so easy to fall in love with their charm. The one who falls to his knees. Wanting to worship every inch of her. The one who makes her laugh. That one to make her forget about the sadness that creeps into her bones. The one to hold her whenever he could. He's about quality time and physical touch."
"So different love languages." She said, her pen quickly scribbling.
"Yeah." You said, leaning forward. "Then there is the gift giver." Your mind went to Gaz. Most of the gifts and trinkets in the box sitting by your door had came from him. He had gotten you new earbuds when yours broke. When you were being harassed at your gym, he had bought you and him a membership at a different one. "The one who would give her the world if she asked for it. If you're going with a high fantasy then maybe the one to take note of something at a market that the FMC had been eyeing and he bought it for her. Just someone who takes notice like that."
"So acts of service would fall with all of them then you think?"
No. Simon had been the one who probably spent the least amount of money on you. He didn't praise you like John. He didn't even try to attach himself at your hip like Johnny.
But if you needed something fixed, he would come fix it himself. He'd be damned letting a strange man into your apartment. And alone? Fucking forget about it. The one who hated any sort of cardio activity outside of fucking you, but didn't hesitate in attempting to keep up with you when you wanted to go on a run and get some fresh air. If you needed something done, he didn't pay someone else to do it. He did it. If you wanted to do something, he made it happen. He made you safe.
You couldn't bring yourself to say explain it. Your eyes begin to itch. Warning you to think of something else.
So instead you just told her yeah. That they would all commit acts of service. And even in your hypothetical explanation of characters that haven't even been written yet, Simon was still the ghost among them.
"Lucky fucking girl." Renée said setting down her pen.
"Yeah." You said, downing the rest of your wine.
You walked home. The cool crisp wind feeling like it was whipping your exposed skin. It was soothing as the ghost of Johnny's touch still seemed to burn you.
You had hoped that you would get some closure, but you just felt hollow. You came twice and still manage to leave unsatisfied. Johnny wasn't malicious... he was Johnny. He wasn't like the others. Simon would never apologize and John and Kyle wouldn't try to keep reaching out after you told them know once.
Johnny couldn't stand you being mad at him. He never could. He would beg and beg for your forgiveness. You didn't regret fucking him one last time. He needed to know that you were well and truly done. There was no going back from this.
"Hey, Love!" You were pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a voice coming from a source you couldn't see. You perked up, quickly scanning the dimly lit street before your eyes settled on a cluster of shadows just across the street. "Yeah." The slurring voice said again. "Talking to you gorgeous!"
You resumed your trek home. Now picking up your pace. "Don't be like that! Where ya off to?" The voice followed you. You kept your gaze straight. You were three minutes away. Three minutes and you would be at your building.
Three minutes.
Three minutes.
"What's the rush?" Another voice joined the cacophony. "Just want to have a chat."
You turned. They were maybe twenty feet away. You kept your eyes glued to them as your started to make a run for it.
You had made it about ten feet before your body collided with someone. Firm hands gripped your upper arms, steading you as you threatened to fall back.
You sucked in a breath of air, ready to scream when you looked up. It was too dark to make out the man's facial features. He was tall. His head eclipsing the street lamp just behind him. You shook beneath his hands. The voices behind you now silent.
"Keep walking." You didn't need to see his face. You knew that deep timber voice anywhere. He released you from his grip before letting you pass him.
"Just wanted to have a chat." You heard one of them try to reason. "No harm done."
"No harm done yet." Was the last thing you heard Simon say before you broke out into a full fledged run.
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mosspapi · 10 months
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What do u do when you can't understand what someone on the street is asking you /g?
I was going to shoppers drug mart in a different city the other day and someone on the street outside the store asked me a question. He spoke very fast and softly, said he was losing his voice (I got that much) and then I didn't understand the rest of what he said. I told him "sorry, I'm a little slow, I'm not sure what you're asking." So he asked again and I still didn't get it. He said something about "food cards," not sure what those are, and asked about coming in with me I think? I told him again that I'm slow, not entirely understanding him, is there something specific he needs? And he said something about it being "just 15-25 dollars" and I think he could "show me what it was in the store". I was overwhelmed at this point so I said I have $20 in cash if that would help, gave it to him, and then went inside. Whole interaction was maybe 5 or 10 minutes of back-and-forth in total.
He was gone by the time I came out again like 5 minutes later so I don't actually know if he was able to get what he needed, but I'm not sure if there was anything else I could've/should've done. I was always told growing up to not let people follow me in to stores but I'm not sure if that's an actual valid safety concern or just my parents being classist/ableist/etc (/g). Should I have asked him to write it down somewhere? Is it ok that I just gave him a 20 and left, or was that rude? I was trying to help as best I could but I was just Not Understanding Him even tho I was trying. Idk it's been a few days and I feel bad abt it still but I genuinely don't know what else I should've done.
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sttm99 · 3 months
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I like to think that Bakugo would like one of those bitchy girls that most people stayed away from.
"Oh her?" His friend would whisper about you as you stood before your locker, frowning as you looked at something on your phone. "Yeah, she's mean, really."
"She's rude, a bitch. Hates everyone."
What drives Bakugo is mainly the fact that he doesn't want to be 'everyone'. He's better. And because he knows what it feels like for people to stay away from you just because of what they've heard.
So he makes his move during one of the UA beach trips, when everyone's out on the sand, taking dips into the ocean. He's walking away from them, scanning the darkening sand in search of you.
He finds you near the far edge of the beach, where the place is darker, with less people, and he swears he sees a crab burrow into the sand.
But he doesn't mind much, walking over to you. You look back at him as he walks forward. You're sat on the sand, watching the waves, then Bakugo.
"What are you doing here?" You say swiftly, unfriendly as you stare him down.
He thinks you're so pretty, body clad in that cute two-piece, and your thighs stained with sand. It's hot, his eyes straining the darkness to see the grains glued to the back of your thighs.
"Last I checked, you don't own the fucking beach." He grumbles, sitting down a few meters away from you.
He succumbs to the urge to say more, to fill the silence, to keep you there with him.
"There's too loud." He says, motioning to where the others are yelling and laughing and dancing and swimming.
"What about the other side?" You raise a brow.
"Two many bitches swapping spit." He retorts, sitting with his legs straightened out, palms behind him to support his weight as he looks at you.
You chuckle at that, and you don't turn away from him, leaning on your hand, keeping your eyes on his.
Your eye contact is hot, he thinks.
"You're funny." You say, sighing softly as you turn back to the sea.
He huffs at that. He wasn't exactly trying to be funny, and he likes that. That he can make you laugh without trying. He thinks it makes you cuter.
He hopes it makes you think he's attractive.
"No one's here, you know." You turn to him, wriggling your brows mischievously.
His stomach tightens. "What?"
You snort. "Stop blushing, idiot. I'm not gonna make out with you." You're laughing. "Let's skinny dip."
And Bakugo's scowling at you for 1) making fun of him, and 2) that suggestion.
"It's fucking freezing." He scolds. "It's like 8 degrees here."
But you're already standing and grinning. "Aren't you a hero? This is endurance shit." You say, like you're challenging him.
And he's grumbling and huffing, but he's standing and running after you as you're sprinting to the water, untying your bikini. Your top goes flying in the wind as you hit the water, and he swiftly catches it before it disappears.
"Fucking idiot," he's yelling after you, pausing momentarily to drag his shorts down. He's trying to hit the water quickly before you catch sight of his dick. "You're gonna walk back fucking naked!"
"Aww, you're so little." You coo at him, laughing.
"Cause it's 8 fucking degrees!"
You were joking anyways. He's big, even in the cold. But you try not to think of that, not when he's so clearly cold, shivering as you beckon him closer.
"Come over here," you say.
"That's too fucking far. There's crabs. You come here."
You shake your head with a sly grin. "The water level here hides my breasts. So you have to come here."
He scowls at your logic, and you stick your tongue out at him.
"My dicks gonna freeze." But he's waddling in the dark water, making his way to you.
You're silent as he nears, taking in how he towers over you, how his body drowns yours, height wise and chest wise.
.
.
.
"What are you looking at?" His voice is raspy from the cold.
You smile coyly up at him.
His heart stops.
"You."
"Dude, where'd you disappear to?" Kirishima calls to Bakugo as he trudges into the room they are sharing.
But Bakugo's silent, repeating a series of numbers in his mind. He instantly goes over to his drawers, grabbing his phone and instantly punching it in, saving your contact in his phone.
"Dude, is that a fucking hickey?" He shrugs Kirishima off him, making his way to the showers, itching to get in and wash off all the sand from his body.
"I'm never fucking banging in the sand again."
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butwhatifidothis · 7 months
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I don't want to come off as rude when I say this, I just want to be clear: the fact that these messages were ever said in this server, that they were said with no action from the mod team, and that they are still, currently, within the server, is a significant problem.
The fact that the response from the server, as of right now, is to try to demonize the person pointing to the elephant in the room and to not do anything about the ones who said the Nazi rhetoric, is a significant problem.
And as seen in this reblog, shandale is not above outright lying about what had happened. They told someone - and likely others - that they would have addressed the problem had someone pointed it out to them. There were multiple people who continuously pointed out the problems with what they were saying, and those people were talked down to and sometimes even outright silenced. And shandale had only said to the reblogger that they would have stopped... after they had repeated the Nazi rhetoric.
From that reblogger (Green and Blue Redacted aren't in Edelgang, Red Redacted is another mod of Edelgang):
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
As of July, shandale still had these beliefs, which at least one other mod knew about that, and still nothing was done. Their response to being directly told that this was Nazi rhetoric by people of Jewish decent (because both TheEeveeTamer and Green Redacted are of Jewish decent) was "but the Nabateans aren't literally human though" and "it's being taken out of context though" - completely missing the point, if not outright ignoring it intentionally.
Their behavior now, when called out for what they said, is not to say that they have moved on from holding such views; it is the exact same as it was before, that it was "taken out of context." That response has a clear implication: if they were in context, they would be fine. That is not the response of someone who no longer holds such views, but of someone who is in fact still holding them and/or will still defend them. Even after being told by those directly affected by this rhetoric that the context does not matter.
I had my reservations posting the screenshots for this very reason, but I ultimately decided to do so because the server sat by and did nothing. Shandale's response, and the response of the server overall, has alleviated any regret I may have had in posting them; they have proven that they have not gotten better and that they think they're above reproach.
I hope in the future that what you say will become true, but as of right now I have no reason to believe that it is
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sp0o0kylights · 3 months
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"Valentines Day is a capitalistic scam made to sell chocolate and flowers!" Eddie Munson bellowed, leaping to the top of a cafeteria table not even ten minutes into lunch. 
"Do you think he was born like this, or just dropped on his head as a baby?" Heather asked, rolling her eyes as the super senior began waving his arms around, getting way too into  his annual “anti-valentines day” rant. 
Steve, who'd tuned out the dramatics in favor of trying to figure out how he could ditch school, only heard her because she’d begun running her foot up his leg.
Directly in front of Patrick.
As if half the school didn’t know he planned on asking her out after school. 
Long over being a part of these kinds of games, Steve kicked out, forcing Heather’s leg off his. 
He did it harder than he intended and immediately winced, as  if he hadn’t meant to do it at all. Aimed a sad little look at her, softening his eyes in the way he knew ladies loved while murmuring a quiet "sorry.” 
A pudding cup was offered as an additional apology--which Heather, thankfully, accepted. 
Crisis averted, Steve used the movement of handing the cup over to get his legs well out of Heather's range. He had other things to think about today, and getting drawn into whatever drama Heather was trying to brew wasn’t on the list. 
Particularly given the basketball team as a unit had started snubbing him out. 
"Newsflash ladies! Your man isn't taking you to some shitty restaurant because he loves you, he's doing it because he hopes you'll give it to him in your car!" Munson continued, voice growing impossibly louder. 
A crude gesture followed, involving hip thrusts and hand jabs.
 Several of the cheerleaders shot him disgusted looks as he did it. 
"Definitely dropped on his head." Carol said, glaring at Munson as his little group of freaks and geeks cheered him. "More than once." 
Steve hummed an agreement, more on automatic than from actually listening. He knew how to look like he was paying attention, even if his head was deep in possible escape plans. 
If he dipped at the last minute to the bathroom on the way to fifth period, Tommy wouldn't have time to stop him and he could make a break for his car…
That just left making up a plausible enough excuse as to why thee Steve Harrington, whose single status was the current hot topic of the school, left school early on Valentines Day. 
("Candy, sex, the overwhelming affection of all the ladies." Tommy drawled out that morning, practically preening. "Valentine's Day is the best holiday man. Just look at all this!"  
He waved a hand at his locker, which was absolutely covered in paper hearts. 
"The rally squad put hearts on the lockers of everyone on the basketball team, Tommy." Carol argued, rolling her eyes. "Steve’s is practically buried in them.”
Tommy opened his mouth to respond, no doubt with something else teasing and rude, but Carol’s elbow caught him in the gut first. 
“If you keep acting like this you're not getting any sex." She warned. 
"Aww baby, don't be like that. You know you're the only one for me." Tommy teased, with a wink that prompted Carol to smack him on the shoulder.
Laughing, he added: "Besides we can't fight or we'll miss our favorite game. Which poor gal thinks this year is the year Steve will take her out on a date!"
Carol allowed Tommy to put an arm over her shoulder, the two of them turning knowing grins on their friend as a singular unit. 
Even if Steve hadn’t felt like their friend in a hot minute. 
Not in the way he used to. 
"I do love watching them stutter through their little confessions.” Carol admitted, like this wasn’t something they’d loved doing since middle school. “I wonder if anyone will ever top Cindy Komer." 
Steve almost wasn't fast enough to cover his wince--that particular incident had been painful for him and Cindy. 
Steve still had no idea what he'd said to make the then-freshman cry. 
He thought he'd been nice about turning her down, but judging by Carol constantly quoting what he'd said, Steve had a feeling he'd accidentally been an asshole again.
Not that anyone ever thought it was accidental. 
“Steve? Hel~lo? Are you listening?” Carol said, snapping to get his attention and God did Steve hate that.
Never realized just how much until Nancy but after she’d pointed out that Carol treated him and Tommy both like her dogs, well. 
It was hard not to notice--and be a bit resentful. 
“God you keep doing this, you’re turning into such a space case.” Carol continued, the edge back in her voice. The same one she’d been using for a while, like Steve was on her last nerve. “Please tell me you’re not still mooning over Nancy fucking Wheeler.” 
“No.” He snapped, only to know instantly that was the wrong move, and try to fix it before Carol blew up. “No--I’ve just already had to fend someone off today. Like first thing--I was barely out of my car.”
There, that should keep Carol and Tommy both off his back for being “angry” and it wasn’t even a lie. He really had been asked out earlier, though the girl had been gracious about his rejection.  
Of course, this kind of instant redirection came with a price--and in this case, it was being absolutely hounded for more information. 
“Oh shit who!? Was it that Buckley girl?” Carol perked up immediately, like a hunting dog scenting prey. “I swear she stares holes in your head, she’s so weird…” )  
"This isn't about romance! It's about showing who has the most cash, gets the most sex! It's a pathetic social ritual you're all falling for!” Munson yelled, jolting Steve back into the present.  “I bet none of you even enjoy it!” 
"Tell that to all the girls Steve’s dated!” One of the younger basketball guys hollered, prompting a wave of laughter from the rest of the cafeteria. “They seem to enjoy it plenty!”
Steve couldn’t see who had said it, and should have felt the normal wave of smug warmth that the team had his back.  
Except his team had already proven they didn’t. 
Were in fact, siding more and more with Hargrove, just as Tommy was. 
They were rapidly approaching a watershed moment. Steve could feel it, the same way he’d always been able to tell when a crowd was about to turn.
He was losing, but was still on top of Hawkins social spaces enough, had caught it early enough, that he could turn everyone’s favor--if he wanted. 
Emphasis on ‘if.’ 
Munson spun to face his table, hair whipping to smack him in the face. The guy had clearly been trying to grow it out, but right now he looked like one of those poodles Carol's mom loved so much. 
So said Carol, anyway. 
"You sure about that?" Munson challenged, a crazed grin breaking across his face. "Rumor has it King Steve lost his groove ever since Wheeler dumped him!" 
Steve grimaced, though he was secretly thankful Munson went with "dumped" instead of "cheated on" (or any of the other vile words Billy had flung around, spreading across the school in the sick, crawling way rumors moved. 
Hargrove had been positively brutal about the whole Jonathan and Nancy thing, and the only reason he wasn't here now to spin this whole situation against Steve was because the guy always vanished at lunch.)
Tommy's face morphed into an affronted snarl, hands slapping down on the table. He turned expectantly to Steve, waiting for "The King" to get up and "handle" Munson.
Like Steve even cared about this dumb high school shit anymore. 
It took him a moment to realize Steve wasn’t planning on doing anything. Was in fact, going to remain perfectly quiet, other than an eyeroll and half-assed middle finger in Munson’s direction. 
Tommy let out a disgusted scoff in his direction and then decided to handle things himself. 
(Like that had ever been a good idea.)
“Shut up, Freak. The only game you have is in the prison showers.” He snapped, half rising from the table. “Isn’t that why you keep your hair long? So all the boys will actually fuck you?!” 
Whistles and yells lit the air, though Steve didn’t miss how the girls at the table looked taken aback at the sheer vitriol in Tommy’s voice. 
Even Carol looked startled, eyes sliding to meet Steve’s as if to confirm she hadn’t just imagined it. 
The three of them had always been good at this kind of mindless high school banter, but this over the top, crude shit? 
It wasn’t Tommy’s style.
It was Hargrove’s.
(That was its own growing issue. 
The way Tommy was gravitating towards Billy. 
How Carol kept expecting Steve to act like he used to. 
That she blamed his “outbursts” on Nancy, snidely mentioning that Steve had better have learned his lesson about “changing his personality for pussy.” 
Even now Steve knew they were only defending him because Munson was the one saying it.) 
“I didn’t realize Harrington still had his attack dog!” 
Munson put a hand against his heart as though injured, staggering dramatically backwards. 
“I thought you were too busy putting your tongue up Hargrove’s ass to bark at people!” 
Tommy immediately fired back, letting loose an uninspired string of curse words and something about Eddie being queer again. Steve didn’t hear the specifics--didn’t care to hear it, even as things started to spiral out of control. 
All he wanted to do was go home. 
Ideally before Billy got back from lunch and decided to make a spectacle himself, because Steve could feel that coming just as he could everything else. 
He was running out of time to come up with an excuse to get out of here without making a production out of it, and Munson wasn’t someone he wanted to piss off today, given he’d half hoped to buy weed off the guy before he ditched.
…Which was looking more and more unlikely given Tommy had just screeched some insult that had put Munson’s sights back on Steve. 
“You sure? Cause Harrington looks like he’s just gonna sit there and take it, just like he takes everything Hargrove and Wheeler and anyone else throws at him.”
He leered, leaning forward as if to see into Steve’s very soul. 
“I don’t know if anyone else has noticed, but our beloved King here hasn’t exactly been defending his crown. If anything, he’s abandoned it.” 
The world stopped. 
This was the first time someone actually called him out on the fact that he often let whatever crap Billy spewed go. That Nancy and him had a few awkward encounters publicly, with at least one of them starting a rumor that she’d told Steve to fuck off. 
(She hadn’t of course, but Carol had stopped running damage control, and Steve was feeling the effects of her ire.) 
Silence echoed, and Steve realized with a dawning sort of horror, that Munson was waiting for a response from him. 
Just as the entire cafeteria was. 
The catalyst was here, brought on early by one Edward Munson. 
With a startling amount of clarity, Steve realized he was done. 
With his so called friends, with  the girls who’d tried corning him all morning, with Hargrove and just--everything. 
He was over it. 
If Billy wanted the crown so bad he could fucking have it. 
(If Tommy wanted to pretend he was tougher than he was by mimicking the dick, then he could have that too.) 
“This is stupid.” Steve announced, dropping the masks he so carefully wore. The ones he kept having to fix, because the Upside Down and its related demons (human and non) kept taking chunks out of it. 
He stood, feeling the weight of the room press down on him as he faced them all down. 
“Yeah--!” Tommy started to pile on, seeming to think Steve was about to unleash hell, and got the surprise of a lifetime when Steve turned and jammed a finger in his face.
“Shut up.” He snapped. 
Knew instantly he only got away with it by the fact that he’d caught everyone off guard.  
King Steve did a lot of things, but he rarely blew up. 
“This is stupid.” He reiterated, voice booming across the lunch room, “ You wanna fight? Fine, but leave me out of it.”  
“The King doesn’t want to play? Why I never thought we’d see the day!” Munson clucked his tongue, and without missing a beat Steve turned to him. 
 “For someone who is always screaming about nonconformity, you sure are happy to attack anyone who doesn’t do what you want.”
Steve’s voice was loud, but he wasn’t screaming. Wasn’t yelling or throwing his arms around.
He didn’t need to. Had never needed to. 
“I heard you going off on that guy whose lunch you're standing on yesterday, because he wanted to watch the Colts play.” Steve continued, voice cold. “Half of your friends are terrified of you, because you’ll scream at them just like you accuse us of doing--and let’s be real here, Munson, you do it more.”
In a dramatic move that absolutely, 100% came from Dustin and his theatrics, Steve shrugged his letterman jacket off and bunched it into a ball. 
“You might as well crown yourself King, because you’re the exact same as the rest of us. Here--you can start with this.”  
Cocking back an arm, Steve let the jacket fly. Watched with everyone else as it  landed neatly right at Eddie’s feet. 
Shell shocked, Munson’s eyes drifted from Steve down to the letterman jacket and back. They were massive, those stupid eyes of his, but at least it meant Steve could see the realization wash over the guy in real time. 
Steve should have felt smug about it. His past self would have.
Presently? 
He just felt tired. 
“You’re welcome to jam it up your ass.” He finished, before giving his own sarcastic half bow to the room.  
The cafeteria was dead silent. Not a fork was scraped, or a loud piece of chip chewed. All eyes were on Steve, some waiting to see if Eddie would let him have the last word, others just  shocked to see Steve lose his shit in front of them. 
Idiot he was, he tried to rally anyway. 
Even Tommy, who’d partly stood up, hands pressed against the lunch table looked shocked.
“What the fuck Steve!?” He sputtered, and it wasn’t long before half the basketball team was muttering similar remarks. 
They were ignored. 
Whispers ripped across the room when Steve turned on his heel, striding towards the exit and making it clear things were over, but Tommy didn’t give up. 
“Fuck you Harrington!” He hurled at his back, Carol now standing and placing a restraining hand on his arm.  “You’re not fucking better than any of us!” 
Steve didn’t even look back. 
"That's my point Tommy." Steve said, loud enough to be heard. "No one is better than anyone else. You lot are all just buying into your own bullshit.” 
Then he was slamming through the doors, and out into the sunlight. 
xXx
He didn’t want to go home.
Not anymore, which was ironic in a way that made Steve’s face screw up in a grimace.  
Here he’d been dying to go to his stupid house all day, and now, after losing his shit and undoubtedly, the last of his social standing, he just didn’t feel like being by himself.
All alone, in a house too big for him, full of nothing but dark corners and a phone that never rang. 
So instead, he wandered, reminiscing on how Valentine's Day used to be his favorite day of the year. 
Steve loved the gesture of it all--the romance, the wooing. The butterflies floating in one's stomach, mixing with fear of rejection and a burning kind of hope towards starting something new. 
Of course, Steve also had always had a girl in mind, when he celebrated. Now, after Nancy…
He did not.
It felt weird to go to Skull Rock--the place he himself had made into Hawkins hottest makeout spots. Likewise all the local restaurants were off limits--too many adults knew how much he loved the holiday. 
Steve didn’t want to face that. The expectations, the knowing winks that would slide into uncomfortable frowns. Any possible advice given wouldn’t be appreciated, and the last thing Steve wanted was to get the “everyone has an off season, son” speech. 
So he’d stayed away from his usual haunts. Explored some storefronts instead, the Beamer parked in front of Family Video as he wandered. 
Had an entirely too peaceful two hours, which of course, meant he had to bump into someone.
At least, Steve thought dully, whole body tensing in preparation, it was Munson. 
Not Hargrove, or Tommy, or hell--the children, demanding he help them fight some other fucked up creature the government had accidentally summoned. 
“Hey Harrington.” Munson said, and it took a moment for Steve to realize the guy was embarrassed. “I uh, I need to talk to you.” 
Steve just stared at him.
“If you couldn’t tell from earlier,” He warned, “I’m a little done talking for today.” 
Or any day, for the foreseeable future. 
“Yeah no--I, I got that.  I--okay.” Eddie stopped rocking on his heels, before giving his entire body a shake, like the guys sometimes did while prepping for a game. “Hear me out, and then you can deck me or leave or whatever makes you feel better.” 
“I’m not going to deck you.” Steve said, exasperated and frazzled and not wanting to do this whole song and dance a second time. 
Not that it mattered, because Munson had already launched right into whatever it was he needed to say. 
“There’s this book right? My Uncle got it for me. It’s a fantasy book all about this big battle and there’s these wizards in it, and--” He stopped himself, shaking out his hands.
Like he realized he was rambling and needed the movement to get himself back on track. 
“I always--I guess I saw myself as a Gandalf kinda guy? Like I was this shepherd herding these lost sheep. A person who intimately knew all the dark forces of the world and could be a shield for them. Do not pass and all that.” 
He chuckled, but it was weak, and he killed it almost immediately. 
“...Okay?” Steve said, knowing he was supposed to say something here, even if he had no idea what. 
Maybe something about how Gandalf the Grey wasn’t exactly a shepard given he’d led the hobbits straight into Mordor, but saying that meant admitting Steve knew what Lord of the Rings was, which wasn’t a conversation he felt like getting into. 
Particularly not because he’d only read the damn things after losing a bet to Dustin and Mike both. 
Munson nodded, as if acknowledgement was all he needed. 
 “I thought that’s what I was doing. I wasn’t and I didn’t realize I wasn’t until you pointed it out. You shouldn’t have had to point it out. You shouldn’t have had to say any of what you did.” He rushed to add, oddly sincere. 
"Is this…" Steve might be confused but catching on, an uptick at the corners of his mouth as the tiniest spark of amusement leaked through. "an apology? Are you trying to apologize right now?"
Eddie groaned, flinging his head back. "No!” 
Then immediately; 
“Actually yes, but--”  
Which caught Steve off guard enough that he laughed, and had to hide it with a cough. 
“I am sorry, man. I shouldn’t have said that shit about you, especially not about you and Wheeler. It's more than that though.” Munson swallowed, before squaring his shoulders. “It’s that you were right." 
“I was right?” Steve repeated dumbly, because fuck, he couldn’t believe it either. 
Not that Munson heard him. Eddie always had been hard to stop once he started, and Steve had been in enough classes with the guy to know the train had left the station. 
"I did yell at Jeff because he wanted to watch that stupid football game.” He began, and Steve got a front row seat to watch as one Eddie Munson word vomited his way through a myriad of emotions. 
“I fuckin’ lost it on Grant because he missed band practice to drive his sister to some thing. Gareth looked like I was going to hit him when I asked if I had really been that bad--same exact look he gave Hagan and those other assholes that cornered him in the bathroom two weeks ago!” 
“Tommy did what?” 
Steve was promptly ignored. 
(Or more likely, Eddie simply didn’t hear him, too lost in his own voice to realize Steve had said something.) 
There were a lot of mentions of the Gandalf guy. Where Eddie thought he’d gone wrong, and even something about a glowing eye thing that had Steve a little concerned until he realized Munson was talking about Sauron (and also made Steve realize that he’d been pronouncing Sauron in his head wrong, oops.) 
“I called up this friend of mine who graduated. She’s always been no nonsense, so I asked her for her advice.” Munson said, finally seeming to slow down a little. “She told me I might as well eat my own doctrine because I sure wasn’t living by it, and that if I wanted to fix it then I should start by apologizing. To everyone but--to you, first.” 
Eddie took a step back, winging out his hands as if to present himself. 
“So here I am. Apologizing.” 
A pause wherein neither of them did a thing, which caused him to awkwardly add; “To uh, you. Harrington.” 
“Yeah I got that.” Steve said, because what else was he supposed to do here? “Good for you? I guess?”
“Most people either forgive a guy or tell him to fuck off.”  Munson pouted, and mimicked like he was kicking at a rock. 
It made Steve want to laugh again, though he shoved the urge down. 
“Someone once told me,” He said instead, speaking slowly to make damn sure he didn’t let slip this piece of advice came from a middle schooler. “that apologies without actions don’t really mean anything. They’re a start--they let people know you’re aware you screwed up, but no one’s going to trust you if you don’t follow through. So I can forgive you, but I think you’re better off doing this with one of your friends.” 
Someone who would hug it out, or at least tell Eddie how he could be better, at least. 
Rather than argue, Munson just titled his head back, eyes to the sky. Like he was really thinking on the words, before giving a sort of accepting sounding noise.  
“Trying too.” Steve admitted with a sigh. 
“That’s what you’ve been doing, isn’t it?” He asked, head coming back down so he could stare at Steve.
“The thing in the cafeteria was a good start.” 
“Yeah?” 
Eddie grinned. 
“Yeah. Don’t think Hagan’s gonna see it the same way though.” 
“We were falling out anyway.” Steve admitted, and hated how easy it was to say.
That they really were just going through the motions of friendship. Had been, ever since Jonathan had punched Steve in the face. 
“Think you lost more than just him as a friend, to be honest.”  
“Pro tip about the actions thing, Munson?” Steve said with a snort, once again unsure of where this conversation was going, “Nice people don’t typically point out when someone’s turned into a social pariah.” 
“No, I get that. Say,” Eddie’s grin had grown, which Steve would have taken poorly except he invaded Steve’s space with a goofy little hop. “I think you might be in need of some new ones!” 
“New…friends?” Steve hesitated, very unsure of what was happening. 
Munson promptly stuck his hand out. “Yup! So--hello, my name is Eddie Munson, and I am here to apply for the position as your friend!” 
Steve snorted, but the harshness of it was taken away by the grin on his face. 
He took Eddie’s hand, noting how doing so made the older teen’s smile widen. 
“Nice to meet you Eddie, I’m Steve.” 
Excited, Eddie waived their arms up and down, with far more enthusiasm than the gesture required. 
“How about we cement our new friendship by renting a truly terrible horror movie and drowning our woes with my other good friend, Mary Jane?” 
Then he waggled his eyebrows, like that was something scandalous. 
“Tempting me along with weed, huh?” Steve mused back, sticking his hands in his pockets once Eddie let him go. “Guess you’re a little like Gandalf the Gray after all. Just don’t send me on any missions.” 
“Steve Harrington.” Eddie gaped, pure delight spreading across his face. “Have you read Lord of the Rings!?” 
He got a shrug and a sly; “Maybe.” in response. 
It was worth the barrage of questions, even if the rapid fire pace of them nearly gave Steve a headache.
(Just as it was worth it several months later, when Steve was comfortable enough to instigate wrestling matches with Eddie over the dumbest of things. 
One particularly semi-drunk tussle over the remote led to an interesting discovery when Eddie popped a boner, and then frantically tried to escape when it brushed against Steve’s leg. 
 Instead of panicking--or letting Eddie bolt in his panic, Steve just dropped his whole weight down, effectively pinning the slimmer man to the floor. 
“Steve.”
Eddie said it so quietly he almost didn’t hear it, the word filled with desperation.
The kind of tone someone whispered a prayer in, a sort of pleading that Eddie did better with his eyes than his voice. Or would have, given his own were firmly scrunched closed the second he realized he’d been caught out. 
Except--
“Not right now I’m thinking.”  Steve told him absently. 
Which he was. Speed thinking even, if that was a thing. 
Because if two plus two equaled four (which it did) then feeling the exact same, fluttering excitement about Eddie’s boner as Steve had Nancy’s breasts, equaled…
“The fuck? Steve--”
Steve shushed him. 
That pulled a frustrated, embarrassed groan from Eddie that went directly to Steve’s own dick, not that it needed much help waking up. 
“I think I’m having one of those crisis’s Robin is always accusing the basketball team of having.” Steve informed Eddie dutifully, the dots done connecting.
Eddie, still refusing to open his eyes, snorted. 
“Whatever man. Can you at least be decent and hurry up with the beating? This is embarrassing enough.” 
“I’m not going to beat you up.” Steve said, thankful that his brain managed not to add some shitty comment about the entire town being awash in rumors of Eddie’s sexuality. That he’d confirmed it here wasn’t exactly a surprise. 
“I’m going to try something. If you don’t like it, let me know.” Streve added, before screwing up his courage and leaning down.
That of course, got Eddie to open his eyes.
“Wha--” He managed, before Steve’s lips were on his. 
For one single, blissful moment, Eddie Munson’s mouth was too busy to talk. 
“Yeah?” Eddie said, voice wrecked, and oh, Steve liked that. 
“Huh.” Steve muttered, when they broke for air. “Well that’s new.”
Liked the way Eddie looked at him more, hesitant, but with heat in his gaze. 
Steve had always been good about knowing what to do with heat. 
He leaned back down, pecking lightly at Eddie’s lips, and was delighted to find Eddie not only let him, but kissed back. 
“Not bad, Munson, but I think I could give you a few pointers.” Steve muttered, nose ghosting alongside Eddie’s. “Let me show you…” 
One boyfriend, several weeks, and another interdimensional monster later, Steve found himself socked in the arm by none other than his coworker, Robin Buckley. 
In her defense, she’d confessed her love for Tammy Thompson, still somewhat drugged on the Starcourt bathroom floor, only for Steve to tease her that at least his boyfriend could actually sing. 
“God you and Eddie Munson.” She muttered after, smile on her face. “How did that happen?” 
Steve knocked his shoe into hers, returning the grin unabashedly. 
“So remember last Valentines Day?” Steve started, all too eager to finally tell someone who understood about the best thing to ever happen to him. 
Robin of course, would soon also be ranked in that same chart, but Eddie didn’t need to know that. ) 
3K notes · View notes
candylix · 24 days
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great minds think alike | bang chan
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A sequel to blow my mind, read that one first! Pairing • Chan x GN!Reader Summary • After failing your test, you decide to go to the library to study. But when you get there, you see Chan. He wasn't the reason you failed, but he definitely didn't help. You said you weren't going to read his mind again, but after the first incident, he hasn't left your thoughts. It couldn't hurt to see what he's thinking about this time, right? Genre • college au, fluff, smut WC • 2.6k Content • sequel to blow my mind, no pronouns used but reader does have a vagina and breasts, mind reading, dirty thoughts about: asking you out 🥰, public sex, groping, thigh grinding, clit stimulation. Chan has an exhibitionism kink. Indented paragraphs indicate what's happening in his mind and not real life.
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You really needed to bring your grade up. Normally you do alright, but that score was going to plummet your GPA. You never expected cheating to backfire so hard... but how could you possibly predict that the person you were mind reading would be thinking about sex the whole time?
This time, you'll be prepared the right way. You carry your textbooks and notes to the school library, and you're going to buckle down and study.
You enter the library with your foolproof plan in mind. You even set your timer for an hour, so you know when to take a break after all your hard work. But you freeze when you get to the tables and see a certain man already there.
Chan is studying too. You can feel your heartbeat thumping in your chest. After the test, you caught yourself thinking about him all the time. When you saw him, you felt butterflies in your stomach. You wanted to be around him, but you felt too anxious to say hi.
Safe to say, you've formed a little crush on him. It was embarrassing to admit to yourself, because you know how it happened. You read his mind, saw him fuck you on the desk, and now you want to hold his hand and kiss him.
Before you can even think rationally, you find yourself walking over to his table.
"Hey, mind if I study here?" you ask, mentally punching yourself for breaking the plan this easily.
He looks up, startled by the sudden intrusion, but his shock fades into a smile when he sees you.
"Go ahead," he responds. You pull out the seat across from him and put your stuff in front of you, as if you'll actually be able to get any studying done.
"Did you see your test score yet?" he asks.
"Yeah... let's just say there's a reason I came here to study."
"I didn't do too well either. Not bad, but not good."
"What happened?" you ask. You know what happened, but you want to see what he has to say.
"I, uh," he starts, and you see his cheeks start to flush. "I got a bit distracted."
'A bit distracted' is the understatement of the century.
"I hope I don't distract you, then."
He laughs nervously at your comment.
"Well, um, I'll get back to studying then," he says, and hides his face behind his laptop.
You open your textbook and think about studying, but you know you wont be able to resist peering into his mind. With the way he reacted, you know he's going to think about something interesting.
While pretending to read the book, you focus on him, and his thoughts gradually fill your head.
'Ok, Chan, focus. You can do this. Just... read your notes... focus... it would be rude to leave, right? I'm not gonna be able to focus like this.'
There was a small part of you that thought he didn't actually have feelings for you, and that he was just a pervert. But from the way he's struggling to study because you sat at his table, you can tell he really does like you.
'Do you want to go for coffee after this? No, that's stupid, it's too late to get coffee. What about... Wanna go see a movie sometime? That's stupid too. Ugh. How do you ask someone out without being cringy? Maybe I should buy some flowers? No, I'd have to carry them around all day like an idiot. This is too hard. I should just jump into a volcano. That would be easier... But this is such a good chance. I have to say something before I miss another perfect opportunity...'
His thoughts are racing a mile a minute, trying to figure out what he's going to say to ask you out. He said something about missing another opportunity... how long has this been on his mind? You feel heat rise to your cheeks as you think of every time you talked, wondering when he was thinking of asking you out. There have been a few times where he looked like he was going to say something, but just kept quiet. Was that him chickening out? Maybe you should put him out of his misery and ask him to dinner.
You tune back into his mind, just in time for him to imagine a scenario involving you.
He's sitting in the library across from you, exactly how you are now, but he's wearing a leather jacket and sunglasses. "Hey babe, why don't you stop what you're doing and take a ride with me tonight. I'll make it worth your while." He winks, and a motorcycle comes crashing through the wall to stand next to him. He takes a seat on it, and you run up to get on behind him. He revs the engine a few times to look cool. You wrap your arms around his waist, feeling his six pack through his shirt. Then he rides the motorcycle out of the hole in the wall and into the sunset.
You can't stop a chuckle from escaping your lips.
"What are you laughing at?" he asks, cocking an eyebrow.
"Um, nothing. Just remembered something funny my friend said earlier," you lie.
You both go back to 'studying'. That was a close call. Not that he would ever guess what you're doing, but you did want to see where that fantasy was heading. You don't have to wait long before another one starts again.
You're both sitting in the library. He clears his throat, and you look up at him. "Sorry to interrupt, but... would you want to... maybe... go out with me?" he asks. "No." You say flatly. Then you take your textbook and smack him across the face, before leaving the room. 'Chan, that would never happen,' he thinks to himself. The daydream resets, and you're back where you were before, sitting across the table from him as if that never happened. He suddenly stands up, grabbing your attention, and walks over to your side of the table. He sits on your textbook, forcing you to look up at him. "We're done studying for today. I'm taking you out for dinner." "But-" "No buts. I won't take no for an answer." "I guess I have no choice then," you say, giggling. He fixates on your smile, they way you look at him, your lips... and everything freezes.
Chan buries his face in his hands. He wanted to be a cool, suave ladies man, but even in his imagination he loses his composure when you smile at him.
It's cute to see him like this, reminding you of when you read his mind during the test. The first thing he did was imagine holding your hand. It's possible that his feelings have gotten stronger since then, because now he's struggling just to ask you out in his romantic fantasies.
He's still sitting on the table in front of you, and he takes your hand, pulling you up to your feet. His other hand cups your cheek, and guides your face down to him. Your lips press into his, and you melt into the kiss. He breaks the kiss, and looks into your eyes. "Let's take a rain check on dinner," he says, and his hands move to the bottom of your shirt. "What are you-" you start, but he lifts your shirt up and over your head, throwing it to the side. He unclasps your bra and throws it somewhere as well, and he drinks in the sight of you. "Chan, we're in public. Someone might see us." "Good, let them. I want everyone to know these," he says, grabbing your tits, "are mine." With one hand on each breast, he massages them, and kisses you again. His thumb grazes over your nipples, and you moan into the kiss. You can feel him smile, and he pulls at your nipples while he gropes you. His hands travel down your stomach and to your waist. He's quick to unbutton your pants and pull them down. He massages your ass over your underwear, and his thigh parts your legs to rest itself under your cunt. You gasp, and he slips his tongue in, deepening the kiss. You roll your hips, rubbing your pussy on his muscular thigh. He grabs your waist to help guide you on him, and you continue grinding on his leg as the feeling in your pit starts to build. "Not so shy anymore, huh?" he teases. "You want everyone to see you humping my leg." You roll your hips against him faster, trying to feel as much as you can between multiple layers of fabric. He watches your breasts bounce as you buck against him, and he sits there mesmerized at how good you look when you're fucking yourself on him.
Your alarm goes off. You both jump in your seats. His daydream instantly vanishes as the noise brings you both back to reality. You scramble to shut it off.
"Sorry, I forgot I set that alarm." "Oh... Does that mean you're done?" he asks. He looks at you with sad puppy dog eyes.
'Shit. I was too busy being horny that I completely forgot to ask. Ugh.'
You decide that if you want to go out with him, you're going to have to ask him yourself. "Actually, I have something I wanted to ask you," you say, and he instantly perks up. Your feel your heart beating, and you hesitate for a moment. You know he'll say yes, but you still feel nervous all of a sudden. Asking someone out apparently doesn't get easier even if you have nothing to fear. Finally, you make yourself say the words.
"Do you want to go out sometime?" He pauses, and starts overthinking about what you could possibly mean. "Um... like you want to hang out? Like a friendly 'go out'?" "More like a date 'go out'."
"Oh... OH. Yes!" He coughs, trying to sound nonchalant. "Yeah, let's go out sometime."
He can't hold back the grin that forms on his face. "Actually, I was going to ask you the same thing."
"Really?" you say, feigning ignorance, "That's crazy. I didn't know you were interested in me."
"Yeah... I've liked you for a while," he says shyly, and his cheeks turn pink. God he's cute.
"In that case," you start, walking around to his side of the table and grabbing his hand, "there's something I want to do." You pull him up to his feet, and lead him to the bookshelves. You walk into an empty aisle near the back. "I really want to kiss you." His face turns bright red, and you can hear the thumping of his heartbeat. "O-ok," he stutters. He's completely different from the Casanova in his daydreams, but the juxtaposition is very endearing.
You cup his face and lean in for a kiss, and he kisses back softly. He doesn't know where to put his hands at first, but he rests them on your waist. Gently, you push him back against the bookshelves and press your body into him. He melts into the kiss, and his confidence grows enough to lower his hands to your ass.
For the first time, his thoughts are completely silent.
You're the first to break the kiss. "Do you want to go a bit further?" you ask. "Further...?" he asks, and when your hands leave his face to travel down to his hips, his eyes go wide. "What if someone walks in on us?"
"Then they'll know I'm all yours," you whisper. With the way you're pressed up against him, you can feel his erection forming. If his daydreams didn't convince you of his exhibitionism kink, this sure did.
He nods his head, and you lean back in for another kiss. You palm his crotch, and as you slowly stroke his bulge, you feel him harden under your touch. He grabs your hand, stopping it in its track. "What's wrong?" you ask. "Sorry, I just..." he hesitates for a moment, but continues, "I want to be the one touching you." You remember everything he's fantasized. That is what he likes. "Go ahead," you say. He turns you around so that your back is on his chest, and he brings his hand between your legs. He kisses your neck while he rubs you, and you lean your head back into him. His hand moves into your pants, and he feels the wet spot in your underwear. He moves it aside, and his fingers circle your clit. When he finds a spot that makes you twitch, he presses into it, rubbing it harder and faster until your body rocks into his hand. His other hand snakes under your shirt to grope your breast, and he plays with your nipple. He rubs it and pulls at it, earning a moan from you. The fingers on your clit stroke you faster, and you can hear how wet you are as he moves in and out of your folds. The sensations from your breast and your core has you bucking wildly on him, and your ass presses against his dick. He buries his face into your shoulder, dampening the moan he lets out. He grinds into you from behind, with no rhythm in his movements.
You can feel your orgasm building, and you can't control how you hump Chan's hand while he continues his brutal pace against your cunt. He works his fingers, caressing your folds and rubbing a sensitive spot. You writhe under his touch, and you know you're close. You feel the dam burst, and he continues to rub circles around your clit as you buck into his hand, riding out your high. His hand continues to hold your pussy as he humps your ass, feeling his own orgasm building. He moans, and his pace slows down as he finishes on you. You're both breathing heavily, and he takes his hand out of your pants.
You both lower yourselves to the ground in exhaustion, and you turn to face him. He leans back against the bookshelf. "You don't know how much I wanted to do that," he finally says, and you have to stop yourself from saying yes, you did know.
"Me too," you admit.
As much fun as it was peeping into his thoughts, the real thing felt way better.
"Do you... want to make plans for our date?" he asks. You completely forgot about that in the heat of the moment. "Maybe we should get cleaned up before we think about next time." "Oh, right. Do you want to come to my dorm to shower?" he asks, before adding "Just to get cleaned up! I didn't mean- unless you want to-"
"Yes," you say, answering his question before he overthinks and uninvites you. "I don't want to have to go home like this."
"Yeah, um, alright. Come with me."
You go back to the table to get your stuff, which thankfully is still there, and he leads you to his dorm.
You didn't end up studying, but you did end up with a boyfriend, and that's more important anyways.
Although he would argue otherwise.
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EPILOGUE:
You're chilling in Chan's room while you wait for your final grades to show up on the school website. You check your phone, it's finally the time they said it would be posted. You both open the website.
"Yes!" he yells, "I got a 93%!"
You wait for the page to load, and when you see your mark, you breathe a sigh of relief.
You barely passed, with 1% over the failing grade, but a pass is a pass nonetheless. Your GPA fell significantly after you started dating Chan, but it worked out in the end.
He looks at your score.
'Wow, what a terrible grade.'
He looks back at you.
"Hey, you passed! Great job!" he says, and gives you a high five.
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writersdrug · 1 month
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Simon Riley x Dog Sitter! Reader pt. 2
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Warnings: light cursing, light nsfw, Simon being the tiniest bit of a creep
A/N: so originally this was just a fluffy thought I had a few weeks ago... it's slowly turning into a longer, multi-chapter series, and Simon is a bit darker than I had intended him to be... but the story is still going to stay relatively normal (there will be full NSFW further down the line, lol)!
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Sure enough, Simon had emailed you by Tuesday afternoon. You noticed how... unprofessional it was. Not that he had been rude or obscene, but it was obviously written by someone who never had to write many emails for his career.
here is riley's routine. she likes walks, usually 3 or 4 a day. she eats one scoop in the morning and one at night. she doesn't finish her food all at once, but she'll come back to it. if you're gonna give her more cookies, just two per day. fill water every morning. around the house, if you could just dust and clean up any dog hair, that would be great. let me know if meeting me tomorrow at 0900 for the key works. I ship out thursday. thanks.
Simon.
You chewed your thumb nail, reclining on your couch with a confused expression. Was he irritated with you for some reason? He didn't show it at the interview if he did have any hostile feelings... you reminded yourself that he was a rather gruff man, and maybe that just bled into his written words, too. You rolled your shoulders and started working out your reply.
Hello Simon! Tomorrow works perfect for me, I'll be there by 9 am!
Does Riley have any favorite places she likes to go? Any particular spots or trails she enjoys? Also, are there any rules you have for her, like being on the couch? Is she ok going to the dog park? Lastly, does she take any medications I should be aware of?
See you soon!
You sent the message, sighing and dropping your head back against the arm of the sofa. You were honestly thankful that you'd gotten the job, even if Simon was a rather stiff client. You finally quit your shitty job, and while you did still have babysitting your niece and nephew, you never charged for that - the only time you were "paid" for it was when you took them out somewhere fun, and your sister forced you to accept money for the admission fee.
So this gig fell into your lap at the perfect time. And the fact that you had beat every other person Simon had interviewed made your ego soar. It wouldn't be a bad idea to make a career out of this, you thought.
Your phone dinged - you held it above your face, and saw that Simon had already responded. You sat upright and opened the email.
she only takes aspirin when her leg flares up. no more than twice a day. no favorite trails, we just go around the block a few times. she can sit on the couch, my bed too, but she'll need help getting up. no human food is the only other rule. never took her to a dog park, but if you really want to, that's fine. she's good with other dogs.
Simon.
You frowned. Walking the same block every day, multiple times each day, sounded awful. It wasn't even close to animal neglect, but you couldn't imagine walking the same route every single time. If it didn't drive Riley insane, it certainly would for you.
You read back over the email, your eyes lingering on "if her legs flare up." Simon had never discussed Riley having arthritis with you - and you sincerely hoped that was the reason she had leg pain, and nothing else. You made a mental note to ask him about it tomorrow as you began to write your reply.
Understood. Thanks again!
--------------
"Here's the basement." Simon said, leading you down the stairs and into a dullish room. It had a cheaply-manufactured desk, what appeared to be a dining chair (not matching the dining set upstairs), a stuffed bookshelf, and some cardboard boxes filled with paper. A fan stood in the far corner, and next to it was the washing room. Much like what he had shown you of the rest of the house, it was bland and drab.
You looked around, letting out a polite noise of approval. Truth be told, Simon's life seemed awfully boring to you. Your mother had always told you that military men were always overly practical, in more than just home decor. They never cared much for the environment around them, as long as there was no mold, or anything similar. But you had never expected it to be so brutally true.
You knew he had a life outside of his home - from the way he described it, he was usually deployed more often than he was in his own home country. But you wondered - what did he do for fun, besides watch the telly? Did he have friends, and were they all like him? Any hobbies?
"If for whatever reason y' need to clean up a stain, you can find solution in there." He said, pointing to the washer room. "Other than that, nothin' much to see down 'ere."
You followed him as he trudged back up the stairs. Riley was sat upright on the floor, watching you and Simon move about the house with an observant expression.
"The only other things I'll ask you to do is hoover n' dust when it looks like it needs it." He said, leaning against the kitchen counter. "There really isn't much else t' do; of course, if you do see anything that needs fixin' you can always text me." He rolled his head from side to side, wincing as he worked out a crick in his neck. "Might not answer immediately, but I'll see it."
You nodded, standing in the walkway of the kitchen. Even with him leaning against the counter, muscles hidden under his sweatshirt, he was huge. For a brief moment, you imagined what he looked like on the field, dressed in his uniform and holding a gun - but you quickly shooed the thought from your mind before it had the chance to latch on and fester. "Gotcha. And just so I know, do you let Riley sleep with you?"
Simon paused in confusion before he responded. "Come again?"
"Like- you know, if I crash on the couch, is she allowed up with me?" You said, shifting your weight. You couldn't quite tell if Simon was irked by your question, or if he was genuinely confused.
He paused again. "Uh, yea, that's fine. If y' don't mind waking up covered in 'er slobber."
You laughed. "Nah, I'm used to it. A little drool never bothered me. Although, if I do need to wash up, am I alright to use the shower? Or would you rather I use my own back at my flat?"
Suddenly, it clicked in Simon's head. You were planning on sleeping at his house.
He had assumed you would just stop by for walks and meals - he didn't expect you to actually live here while he was gone, and he wasn't sure how it made him feel. He'd never had anyone else spend the night. Hell, no one ever visited, besides the rare occasions of the rest of the 141 stopping by. Even then, they never stayed for longer than a conversation or two.
But, once he took a second to think about it, he realized it might be better if you did stay - at least, while he was on missions. Riley would be bored out of her mind if she was alone that long, especially after spending the past several weeks with Simon constantly there. It would be good for someone to be there when he wasn't, and you seemed like you would be the best person for that, of course.
"Sure, 's fine." He said, rubbing the back of his head. "Just don't touch my shit in there."
"Don't worry about that..." You said quietly, "catch me dead and cold before I touch a 3-in-1 anything."
He chuckled and rolled his eyes. It was refreshing that you could handle his gruffness - most people treated him like a landmine, never wanting to say the wrong thing and set him off. You seemed to have taken life by the horns, like you weren't afraid to bite back at someone. He wondered if that was all for show, or if you really would snap back if he was to test you...
He pushed himself off the counter and reached into the drawer behind him, pulling out a spare key. He walked over to you and held it out. You were just about to take it, when he suddenly yanked it back.
You faltered. "Sorry...?"
"You lose this key..." Simon began lowly, "n' I'll frame you for murder. Understood?"
You gaped, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He didn't really mean that... did he? You waited for him to laugh and say he was just joking... but he never did. His eyes bored into yours so intensely, making you shiver, as he waited for you to answer.
"Y-yes, sir. Understood." You said, voice wavering a bit.
He grunted in satisfaction, then handed you the key. You let out the breath you had been holding, then cautiously took the key, before immediately attaching it to your lanyard. You didn't want to take any chances at losing it - not after Simon's threat. You took a deep breath and smiled at him, trying to dust the exchange off of your shoulders.
"You can come 'round tomorrow after o' nine hundred, I'll be out by then." He said, turning sideways to moce past you and heading towards the door. You followed behind and rubbed Riley's head when you passed her; she let out a contented sound.
"Feel free t' use the kitchen if you'll be stayin' overnight." He opened the door for you and leaned against it.
"Will do, thank you!" You chirped, hovering on the landing outside of his house, right were you were two days ago. "Thank you for showing me around - good luck on your- mission- deployment, thingamajig!"
He huffed. "Promise I will, luv."
Your spine tingled in response to his comment. Get it together, don't get your knickers in a twist over a client. You thought. You straightened your posture and cleared your throat.
"Well, see you around!" You said with a smile, then hopped down the steps to your car.
Simon waved, taking a moment to watch you pull out of his driveway. He shut the door and leaned back against it, exhaling slowly through his nostrils.
He was an observant man - he had to be, with his occupation. Your reaction to being called "luv" didn't fly over his head. And it's not like Simon didn't know the effect he had on women... he knew how he looked, how he presented himself, and he saw the reactions it got him.
But with you, something felt different. He saw your reaction, and a part of him wanted to chase after it. To see what you would do if he continued to apply pressure to your weak spots. Would you blush? Would you call him out? Would you drop the gig altogether?
He thought about how easily the word "sir" had rolled off of your tongue. He thought about how you would look, all tuckered out on his couch, donned in whatever pajamas you decided to wear, your face peaceful and expression soft as you slept - he imagined you in his shower, the room filled with warm steam and the scent of your shampoo, water hitting your skin as you-
Riley barked, making Simon jolt where he stood. She stared at him, ears turned to the side as she whined. She could always tell when he began to dissociate, and knew just as much as he did that it wasn't a good sign.
Simon sighed, running a hand down his face. "Get it together, fuckin' creep." He muttered to himself. "I need a bloody hobby, f' Christ's sake..."
He blamed it on the upcoming mission. He would typically stress about it beforehand, and if there was anything else that could occupy his mind, he would fixate on it. Right now, unfortunately, you were the victim. But he buried it deep down into his subconscious - it wasn't fair to you.
He pushed himself off of the door and headed towards the washroom, adjusting his crotch as he went. He figured he should at least tidy it up a bit, since you would be using it. The only other people who had been in there were Johnny and Captain Price, and of course, they never cared if there were trimmers on the counter, or if the mirror had splotches from toothpaste residue.
Hopefully, he'd forget all about you - at least, while he was on the mission.
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Taglist: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @jisungswiftie @sweet-tooth4you @kennyis-aloser @hyyyxr @lahniu @dory-98 @naradae
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gremlingottoosilly · 1 month
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Hiii! I just read Mafia!Konig x introverted!Reader and it gave me this great idea! can you please do one where introvert!reader absolutely clings to konig since he is this big scary mafia guy so people are too afraid of him so don't try to talk to her out of fear of him.
as an introvert who absolutely does this i would greatly appreciate it!
Mafia!Konig is definitely your protector. It's how you two met, actually. You see, being an introvert is hard, but you manage to live just fine for a long time. Never a single problem, always moisturized and in your lane - it's just that your extraverted friends can sometimes be a bit of assholes who love pulling you out of your shell as you kick and scream. This is how you ended up squeezed between sweaty, dancing bodies at some expensive elite club that wasn't allowing regular stoners and instead opted for people who could afford cocaine and a minimal order of 300 euros per table. You don't think you ever drank something that was more than 15 Euro for something very bougie - but here you are, feeling uncomfortable. Awkward. Your friends left to flirt with some guys, and you would leave, but you haven't paid for your order yet, and you won't put it on someone else's tab. This is how you caught Konig's eye. A lamb to the slaughter, too innocent of a creature to simply ignore. He had to have you, press you in his arms and hope he'd be able to take you home without choking you and them threatening your poor body with his gun. He wanted something nice today, and protecting some awkward lady in the middle of her introverted breakdown is his one good deed for the year. You just wanted to go to some quiet place to recharge. Konig had already paid for a VIP room for the whole night, but now he just pushes you to it slightly, not caring that you're trying to stay near and find your friends. He says it's fine and he won't hurt you. You feel the outline of something metallic and sharp poking at your hip, so you decide to listen. Your dignity is not worth being stabbed, you think. He apologizes for being too harsh, and he looks a bit nervous. There is a mask hiding his face and you feel even more scared now - but he explains how he just wanted to make sure you're doing alright. He says he just wanted to help a pretty lady not be too overwhelmed with everything. He gives you something nice to drink and covers the tab for the entire table. He doesn't make you talk to him and instead allows you to examine his tattoos with poorly contained curiosity. He is nice for a dude who is definitely into some crime stuff. You just wished he didn't kidnap you later that night. It was kinda rude.
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obsessivelullabies · 9 months
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⎯ yandere sugar daddy könig.
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pairing : könig x fem!reader.
tags : fluff, yandere behavior, yandere headcanons, könig x reader, sugar daddy, sugar baby, sugar daddy könig, yandere könig.
prompt : you're a broke college student, you sign up for a sugar daddy website, hoping for a quick coin. however, what you find is an obsessive older man who's willing to provide you with everything you could possibly need.
warnings : daddy kink, yandere behaviors, smut [at the end], size kink, praise kink, breeding kink.
‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿
⎯⎯ college wasn't exactly the best time in your life, you didn't have your parents support, you were working a dead end job with barely enough money to feed yourself. it wasn't until your friend recommended this sugar daddy website did things look up.
⎯⎯ you were contacted by an austrian man who called himself könig. he explained he was a colonel in the military, but he couldn't tell you much else. you would see him when he was home from his deployments. he explained all this over texting, along with his social anxiety problems. you sympathized with him. you had only seen one photo of his face, yet he seemed handsome. he had long hair and a scarred face.
⎯⎯ finally, you agreed to meet könig in person over dinner at a fancy restaurant. you could tell he was anxious to just be around you, considering how he fidgeted throughout almost the whole meal as you two went over the agreement of your arrangement. you were shocked by his height as well, he was 208 cm/6'10, which really stuck out. you decided to not mention it to him.
⎯⎯ he convinced you to only see him, saying he'd pay you enough so you only needed to see him, which slightly relived you. you were to always answer his texts and calls as soon as possible, he'd give you an allowance and similar rules were all agreed upon.
⎯⎯ whenever könig was home, you spent a lot of time with him. he seemed to love having you around, always taking you out shopping, out for meals, having you at his home. you had him wrapped around your finger.
you had just returned from a shopping trip with könig, he set down all the bags of clothes and jewelry he had bought you on the counter. you spent a lot of time at his house, which was stunningly large, despite him living alone.
with a smile on your face, you lead him over to the couch, playfully making him sit down. you straddled him, covering his face with kisses, "thank you, daddy." you cooed sweetly to him. you finally kissed his lips, which he hungrily returned.
"anything for you, liebling.." he whispered, wrapping his arms around you, bringing your body closer to him. you gave his jawline a final kiss before wrapping your arms around his neck and cuddling into him.
könig rested his chin ontop of your head, rubbing circles on your back. he tightened his grip on you. you spent a lot of time in the prison of his arms, könig seemed to love holding you, having your body close to his.
⎯⎯ when könig was off on deployment, he would call and text you as much as he could. every free moment he had was spent focused on you. he got angry with you if you didn't answer in a few minutes or less, accusing you of seeing someone else. to which, you'd have to spend hours on a phone call soothing him and his worries.
when you finally picked up your phone, you were met with an irritated sounding könig, "where the fuck have you been?" he hissed.
you took a deep breath, not wanting to react rudely to him. "i was in class, i'm sorry, i just got back to my dorm." your tone was honeyed for him.
his tone didn't soften at all as he replied almost childishly. "it shouldn't have taken you so long, were you with someone?" you understood what he meant. he always assumed you were breaking the rules of your agreement or 'cheating' on him.
you kept your sweet tone, "of course not, daddy.." you pouted. "i've missed you too much, i don't want anyone else. i just want you." you knew exactly what to say. he had done this multiple times.
könig finally softened. "i see.. i've missed you too.. i want to feel you again, i want to kiss you again.." you could feel a hint of sadness in his tone.
"mm, i miss you more! you'll be back next week, right?" you cooed.
könig responded, sounding much happier than before. "ja, will you send me more photos of you, baby? i miss your face.."
you giggled, "of course, daddy." he seemed pleased with that. you spent the next hour and a half on the phone with him, listening to him talk about his day, and telling him about yours.
⎯⎯ the more time you two were together, the more attached könig became. he needed more of you, he wanted all of you. könig would constantly encourage you to blow others off to spend time with him. a few months into your relationship, you had lost ties with most of your outer circle of friends, barely having any time to spare.
⎯⎯ after ten months, he was encouraging you to drop out of college. who needed a silly degree when daddy could take care of you? he wanted you to move in with him. he promised he would take care of your every need and lavish you with affection and gifts.
⎯⎯ during this time, könig got much more affectionate and needy. he became infatuated with you entirely. you were his everything, he made himself the most important thing in your life. könig made sure you had the least amount of time for friends or family as possible.
⎯⎯ now, you spent almost every day and night at his house. the only exceptions were your classes and time you set aside for homework. he always scoffed and whined when you said you had to leave, doing anything to make you stay.
right now, you had a scheduled class. you were supposed to be ten minutes into that class, yet here you were, in könig’s bed, laying underneath him, biting back tears.
“daddy,” you whimpered through your heavy breaths, “it’s not gonna fit!”
könig rubbed circles on your swollen clit as you said this. “shh, schatz, i’ll make it fit. just lay back and relax for daddy, ok?” he reassured, kissing your forehead softly.
you took deep breaths as he slowly jammed his cock into you, your body began to tremble. you let out cries, clawing könig’s back. no matter how much foreplay you got in, you always struggled to take könig’s entire length.
as he fit it all in, he gave you a small kiss. “see, liebling? it’s all in.”
you swallowed hard, nodding slowly. his large hands were gripping your hips as he began to gently thrust into you. you moaned, his thick cock was too much.
“fuck.. you feel so good, schatz.. so tight..” he whispered, quickly speeding up despite your cry of panic.
the sounds of skin slapping echoed in the room as he pounded into you, your cunt crying from the abuse. you dug your nails into his back, now starting to feel a pleasant knot in your belly. you gasped, your back arching into the bed.
“all mine,” he said breathlessly. his grip on your hips tightened as he continued using you like you were his personal fucktoy. “you’re all mine.”
he sped up, much to your own pleasure, the pain had subsided as you moaned and babbled out praise for him, your legs wrapped around him.
you neared your climax, your whole body trembling. “daddy—‘m gonna cum..” you said through your moans, your body clinging to his.
könig kissed you sweetly, despite his animalistic pace. “such a good girl, schatz. cum for me, cum on my cock,” he groaned. your walls clenched around him as you dissolved into your pleasure, tears leaking out onto your cheeks.
as you came, he kept up his unforgiving pace, he let out groans of contentment. he wiped the tears off your cheeks before kissing you softly through your mutual cries of pleasure.
as he continued, he whispered sweet nothings to you until he reached his climax. “‘m gonna pump you full of my cum, alright, engel?” he kissed you passionately, continuing to ram his cock into you. “be a good girl and take all of it, understood?” you couldn’t murmur a response, too fucked dumb from his pounding.
soon, könig came inside you, painting your walls white. he fucked his hot cum into you before finally stopping. after a moment of making sure you took the majority of his cum, he slid his cock out.
könig kissed your forehead sweetly, tucking you into bed and quickly wrapping his arms around you. he lavished kisses all over your neck and shoulders.
“this was better than your class, right, liebling?”
masterlist.
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