#cw intimate partner violence

[prince-liest]

since you acknowledged vox and valentino as a uh. less than healthy relationship (lol) several times (going feral over what vox was implying in that latest 666 fic), do you think there's ever the chance of alastor feeling... probably not protective haha but maybe possessive over vox the next time he's a little banged up? alternatively, how else do you think alastor would react if whatever they were getting up to is halted by vox nursing some kind of injury from one of his and val's fights? - ✨

I think it really depends on how Vox presents the situation, to be honest! They, uh, bang each other up a lot themselves, hahaha, and Alastor doesn't really register it as problematic. A lot of writing 666 is balancing the idea that these guys are living an existence where the a real life normal-meter really can't accurately be applied, and also maintaining that they still do have personal boundaries and lines that might be crossed.

A reminder of some (but not all) of the fucked up things that Vox and Alastor have done to each other over the course of 666:

One murder attempt that Vox didn't draw a line in the sand over

Vox got annoyed and slapped Alastor across the face hard enough to knock him down, with no warning or prelude, in a sexual context

Vox slammed Alastor's skull into the ground, out of anger, several times until he was dazed and bleeding

Alastor literally tried to eat a chunk of Vox's shoulder, most likely resulting in the reverse of the scenario you're describing: Vox having to take it easier with Val because he has a gaping shoulder wound courtesy of Alastor and can't lift his arm

About three dozen bucketfuls of severely under-negotiated and sometimes not-at-all negotiated edgeplay (as in, not safe-sane-consensual) kink from both ends, including but not limited to: choking (via hands and via dick), fearplay, deliberate boundary-crossing wrt touch, hypnosis, painplay, bloodplay, wounding, and gaslighting for the purpose of humiliation

Like, Vox asking "I want to make sure I didn't cross any boundaries!" in the second 666 fic does not in any way absolve him of having deliberately crossed about thirty of them immediately prior, and the fact that Alastor enjoyed it is mostly just because Alastor is also fucked up. Some people seemed quite surprised at Alastor crossing so many boundaries in the wireplay fic compared to all the shit Vox had pulled prior to that point, and I think it's because he, unlike Vox, didn't pay lip service to it, though they both do about the same amount of actual "keeping an eye on things".

Them caring about each other does not mean that their concept of "boundaries" or even "okay things to do to another person in an intimate setting or otherwise" aren't very, very colored by them being demonic overlords who live in hell and haven't so much as waved 'hello' to a single healthy intimate relationship in the past hundred years.

Vox having to take a breather because he has some kind of injury from Val is, unless he's actively making a 'this is fucked up and I'm opening up to be vulnerable and unhappy about it' kind of deal about it, is not really going to ping on Alastor's radar as a problem.

And Vox isn't going to make that kind of deal about it because that isn't how he sees his relationship with Valentino. Yes, Val often treats Vox in abusive ways in 666. That is also colored by both of them being demonic overlords who live in hell, and Vox treats certain aspects of it as frustrating and upsetting (and often takes that out on Valentino - hence the frequent off-again-on-again nature of their relationship), but he doesn't actually, like, see their relationship the way that we do.

He loves Val. Val loves him. To him, the rest is either normal overlord behavior or their own damage, and they've found a balance where the general response to a shitty happening is, "Eh, we've worked through worse."

TL;DR: Valentino, Vox, and Alastor all need to have "DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME!" stapled across their foreheads. To paraphrase Bay: They're in hell. The insane acts of violence are basically a love language at this point.

#ask #personal #sparkle anon #666 live on air #my writing #cw abuse #cw violence #cw intimate partner violence #cw cannibalism #long post #hazbin hotel #radiostatic #staticmoth #staticmoth are gonna be “off again” in the next installation and Vox is going to be SO soppy about it

[izvmimi]

in casual conversation with your f/o, they reveal a scar from a fight with their ex partner. they tell you it's not a big deal but after some pressing, it turns out that their ex was a lot more physically/emotionally abusive than originally thought.

mind you, i didn't ask what is the right thing to do, i asked what is your first impulse?

#mimi polls #cw intimate partner violence #cw domestic violence #cw abuse

[beulahsapphire]

This is my wife’s childhood friend, Talia Petoia.

On the night of March 10, 2023, Talia was shot in the chest by her abusive boyfriend, Tyler Laughter, who claims the incident happened while he was cleaning his gun. Talia was rushed to the hospital, but the doctors couldn’t save her; she died that night.

One week later, before the autopsy was even completed, Tyler was charged - with involuntary manslaughter. He was put in jail on a $20k bond, only 10% of which needed to be paid to bail him out. He was free within hours, having not spent a single night in jail.

There’s been very little media about this case, despite the best efforts of Talia’s friends and family. In fact, when Talia’s mother contacted a reporter at a local news station several days after the shooting to ask why there had been no coverage yet, she was informed that the station had reached out to the sheriff’s office about Talia’s death only to be told that it was an accident and that there was “nothing to report.”

We’ve been calling the DA to encourage him to escalate this case to the SBI, given the seeming lack of care given to it by local authorities and the fact that the chief deputy is related to the shooter, but so far, no progress has been made.

There’s a lot of other fucked up shit going on with this case - more than I can type in one post - but suffice to say that Tyler Laughter is a dangerous man. Talia was not the first woman he abused - more have come forward in the last few weeks - and I’m afraid that that she won’t be that last.

Ways to help, for those who are interested:

Talia’s family started a fundraiser to higher private investigators and cover legal fees. Any leftover after meeting those goals will go to a scholarship in her name.

Contact the DA. Voicemails left after hours and emails are good too, if you don’t want to actually talk.

Even just reblogging this post and/or interacting with the other social media pages and hashtags we’ve created for this helps. We’re still asking the authorities to do the right thing and give this case the attention it deserves, but if they won’t do what we ask, we want to embarrass them into acting. Make this case such a big deal and so widely known that they are shamed into doing their jobs.

Linktree with the fundraiser, contact info/scripts for the DA, and other social media HERE.

#police corruption #justice #intimate partner violence #justicefortaliapetoia #wearpinkfortalia #probably no one will see this #but i have to try #cw: death #cw: dv #cw: ipv #update: fuck it i’m blazing it

[veganpropaganda]

Hi, all. This is Leila Sleiman and Lauren Spagna, and we are hoping to raise at least $25,000 for our friend and Pittsburgh VegFest co-founder, Natalie Fristick.

On November 8th, Natalie narrowly and miraculously survived an attempted homicide and nightmarish acts of domestic violence. Among other injuries endured that night, every bone in both of Natalie's heels were shattered in her escape.

Natalie spent one month in the hospital, underwent 2 major surgeries, 3 months of being completely non-weight bearing, and has recently begun to walk short distances again, though in extreme pain.

Throughout this time, Natalie has been completely without income while mortgage and car payments, medical bills, credit card bills and daily living costs have continued to roll in.

Natalie attempted to go back to work this week because she has almost depleted her savings while unable to work and is facing losing everything. Unfortunately, 2 days of modified work, mostly seated, left her completely unable to walk and in agony. She is not able to return to work yet. It's too soon. Natalie is so strong and tried to do this on her own, but she needs more time to heal.

#intimate partner violence cw #domestic violence cw

[notfromcold]

Ed was either an eldest child or an only child.

He was the child who put his siblings to bed while his father shouted in the other room. He was the child who learned to cook (badly) so he could cook for them when his mother worked late and his father was God knew where.

He was the child who helped his mom around the house and found it was never enough. He was an attempted human shield in the shape of an 11 year old boy.

He was the child who walked on eggshells. And eggshells and eggshells and eggshells. But something always cracked.

You can just tell. I can just tell. The story says it loud and clear.

#ofmd #abuse cw #intimate partner violence cw #child abuse cw

[mbharestuff]

despise this Amber Heard/Johnny Depp media circus. hate how many fucking people are carrying water for a growing anti #MeToo movement because it's easier to make stupidass dunks.

Like, look at this shit. This was recommended "based on my likes." I've never liked a goddamn thing related to the trial.

fuck this entirely. I'm so disgusted.

#cw domestic violence #intimate partner abuse #media circus #me too

[cor-ardens-archive]

michael corleone hitting kay at the end of the godfather part 2 :|| actually not the only al pacino domestic abuser movie scene i've been Affected by

oof ok! i have a really bad one involving al pacino so i won't judge

#intimate partner violence cw #domestic abuse cw

[antlerqueer]

of all sexualities, bisexual women are most likely to experience intimate partner violence in comparison to het and gay counterparts of the same gender, as well as men of any sexuality. (see source for full study)

#intimate partner violence cw #ipv cw #domestic abuse cw #domestic abuse tw #depp v heard cw

[romancandlebyelliottsmith]

cw: SA, $/h,

you know you did something fucked up and I made that abundantly clear to you. You had so many different opportunities to apologize or try and make it up to me, and what did you do? Not a goddamn thing. You have no fucking clue what I’ve been through because of you and you have no idea the way I used to think so highly of you. I would talk about what you did to people but then beg them to keep you in a good light because I thought you had some sort of semblance of good. But, that was all extremely wishful thinking. I have defended you in conversation, I have acknowledged your better traits, I have lied and covered for your ass. I’ve done this for years now. And only now, when you think you’ve “changed”, you come to me to apologize?

Firstly, if you didn’t want an actual relationship with me, you should’ve fucking said that so we could’ve avoided all of this to begin with. There are family members of mine who have passed away who knew about us and, as far as it can be considered, still do. I would’ve never agreed to do this if you never wanted a relationship with me. I’m not a quick fuck.

Second, even if you are sorry, it doesn’t change the fact that you have left a crater in your abscence. I have avoided Walmart like the plague for about two years now. I saw your best friend at Subway and almost threw up. I’ve seen him and his girlfriend at the fair and have hid from them. God fucking forbid I see your cousin in public. Any time I see someone who looks like you in public, I go into fight or flight mode. I’ve had people come up and ask about us and what happened when they have no fucking right to ever do that and I have resisted the urge to choke them the fuck out. When I go out and I see you pass by in public in your car (I always fucking know it’s you), it ruins my entire fucking day. You have no idea what you have done to me. What was a fun little month long fling for you has been a fucking nightmare for me for almost three fucking years. I hate sex. I hate intimacy of any extent. I have panic attacks regularly.

Third of all, my senior year was fucking terrible. When we went to our state competition, I was quite literally hallucinating and going through psychosis. I was arguing with my parents a lot. I had tried to kill myself twice and when I tried to tell you, someone I thought was a friend about it, you called me selfish. You want to know selfish? Breaking up with your girlfriend of two years, making a giant spectacle out of it for a girl you could barely stand for a month, cheating on her, dumping her for another girl, and THEN not only cheating on that girl too, but then fucking COMING BACK TO THE ORIGINAL GIRL YOU DUMPED YOUR GF FOR, saying some fuck shit about “YOU’RE SORRY”??? Have you even apologized to your ex? Where the fuck do you get off on this? What part of your brain makes this an okay thing to do? Why the fuck would you do this to me? Why would you do this to people who care about you? If I ever meet your ex, I’m going to fucking give her financial compensation for the shit you’ve put the both of us through.

Do you realize I missed the burial of my grandfather’s urn to hang out with you? The same burial that had been put off for 3 years because the ground was frozen and because of Covid? The same fucking grandfather who died on what would’ve been our one month anniversary? Do you ever see something that reminds you of me? Not just, “Oh, that’s kind of like Kyle”. Something that just immediately takes you back to that time. It happens to me every single fucking day. I was getting to a point where I was getting better and was starting to move on. But, guess what happened! You got bored of whatever girl you’ve been leading on this month and you went through your back catalogue of manipulation and thought, “Oh, it was only a month long thing. Maybe if I bat my eyes enough and feign sympathy enough, maybe she’ll let me fuck!”

No. That’s not how this going to go. You had every opportunity to man the fuck up and grow a pair and apologize. This shit may not mean anything to you but it’s meant so fucking much to me. There’s no point in going everything you’ve done wrong because I know it wouldn’t matter to you. You’re not going to ever fucking care. I have tried to show nothing but patience and compassion and sympathy towards you. And what did that get me? Trauma that is going to follow me for the rest of my life. It has gotten me fired from places. It has ruined my friendships, my relationships, my outlook on life, my state of mind, my fucking everything. But, I’m so so so sorry you think you’ve changed enough to deserve any sort of sympathy on my half. If I ever see you again, I will fucking kill you.

#do not reblog #kyle vent #actually ptsd #actually traumatized #post traumatic stress disorder #ptsd #trauma survivor #intimate partner abuse #intimate partner violence #ipv awareness #abuse mention #cw s/h mention #cw abuse #cw sa #cw sui mention #vent blog #reblogs

[aronarchy]

Bre’Asia Bankz was born and raised in Crossett, Arkansas. She moved with her family first to Los Vegas and then to Los Angeles, California. After graduating from Crossett High School, she went on to study at the University of Arkansas and then studied hair styling at Beauty Education.

At age 27, her life ended at the hands of her boyfriend, Kenton Lincoln in Arizona. According to her family, video shows that Bre’Asia went into Lincoln’s apartment with him and never exited. Video and images posted by Bre’Asia purportedly showed Lincoln with a gun casually resting on his lap in the background. And then he allegedly shot her five times with double bullets that left ten exit wounds on her body.

What I can’t find is media coverage of the story. Not an inch of ink or moments on any Arizona media outlet. A woman was shot to death five times by her boyfriend with mutliple witnesses in the residence and there is no arrest, no charges, no reporting, nothing. Someone even still has her cell phone and it is turned on because her family can see her as if she’s actively using social media. That’s heartbreaking and even cruel.

Without a media report, we have no more information than what her family and friends are sharing. … Her family is urgently trying to raise the funds to transport her body from Arizona to their California home to have a proper burial. And trying to understand the little bits of information the Casa Grande Police Department have offered. While seeing her social media appear active because someone has her cell phone turned on.

Her family are not strangers to loss. Bre’Asia’s mother has a sister and a brother. All three have lost a child as a young adult, to illness/injury and violence. That’s a gut-wrenching reality that fuels their desire to see justice and struggle to find allies and accomplices to do so.

Bre’Asia identified as nonbinary, using she/her pronouns. She loved to dance, spend time with her siblings and cousins, and filled her social media with fashion/hair/makeup/celebrity posts. She singled out the movies To Kill a Mockingbird and Love & Basketball as her favorites. She loved her little dog who is now with her friend and will be rejoining her family in the near future.

She had a series of jobs, describing the challenges she encountered in the workplaces.

Bre’Asia is the 19th trans or gender nonconforming person whose violent death has been reported in 2023. She is the 15th trans person of color, the 13th Black trans person, the tenth Black trans woman, the 12th trans woman, and the 12th trans woman of color whose death have been recorded in the United States this year. Bre’Asia is the second person who identifies as nonbinary. “Reported* is an important distinction to make as we know there are more folx whose deaths go unacknowledged.

…

#repost of someone else’s content #Bre’Asia Bankz #transmisogynoir #transfemicide cw #intimate partner violence cw #domestic violence cw

[bogkeep]

being in aroace education mode has me all fired up...... one thing i talk about a lot when given the opportunity is Deconstructing How We Think About Relationships - in short, if we put all of our relationships with other people into a pie chart the 'romantic partner' slice is likely to be a very small slice but gets a disproportionate amount of Relationship Infrastructure compared to other categories, such as vocabulary, rituals, attention and narrative scaffolding - entire systems such as dating / finding "the one" / break-ups / the relationship escalator, etc. on the flipside, 'friend' is such a vast category consisting of a plethora of different relationship, all ranging from Friendly Acquantaince to Extremely Close Childhood Friend You Share Everything With, but we have a lot less language and structure for how we think about these relationships even though many of them can be deeply important and intense to us.

the line between romance and friendship is really blurry, maybe even non-existent, but it feels like the way we think about these categories is that Romantic Partner is this one very specific, formalised box of a category, while Friend is a vast and vague landscape where anything can happen - and it's on this free real estate we have built structures like Queerplatonic Partner. the concept has probably existed since forever, along with many other different types of relationships throughout time and cultures, but it's our current attempt at having a Word for it.

are you with me so far? i want to write a blog post about Deconstructing Intimacy.

just putting a CW here that i'm going to say the word sex a lot and touch on the topic of sexual trauma.

one of the very thorny things about This Whole Topic is that sex and sexuality is extremely political. we just do not live in a world where there's any neutral ground to stand on regarding sex. every demographic comes with a lot of assumptions and expectations and moral judgement tied to sexuality. some demographics are desexualised, some are hypersexualised, some are Both At Once, and in addition to that there's lots of stigma, moralizing, pathologizing, and lawmaking. just a whole mess.

so all of That makes it kind of impossible to fully Dethrone Sex. and by dethroning sex i mean stripping it of the baggage it's accumulated in our cultures. Sex Is A Thing You Can Do With Your Body (And Your Mind?). this does not have to make it any less or more meaningful to you than what it already is. what each person considers intimate is very individual. many people find hugging completely inconsequential and will hug anyone at any time, and for some people a hug is A Lot. For some people, sex is a very fun and casual activity, and for others it's Sacred and carries a lot of meaning and a very close bond. sex is intimate - it requires trust and vulnerability.

it is not the only way to achieve trust and closeness, nor the only thing that requires it.

whenever i take the bus somewhere, i trust the bus driver to take me there safely. i put my literal life in a stranger's hands, but it's a very casual affair i don't think about too much. it's not an act of intimacy, just someone doing their job.

i think the way we talk about sexual assault as the evillest most horribly irredeemably worse-than-death thing, and sexual trauma as a unique kind of trauma amongst traumas, is... indicative. and please do not get me wrong, SA is a horrible thing in every way. it's a violation of trust, vulnerability and personal space. it's an abuse of power. those are the things that make it so horrific - but it's not unique.

an abuse of power, a violation of trust and vulnerability, can happen in so many different forms. emotional abuse, non-sexual violence, medical abuse, et cetera - i don't think it's possible to place trauma into a hierarchy from least to most bad. trauma can be incredibly complex and it's different for everyone. if one day the bus driver on a whim decided to drive off a cliff, i think that would severely fuck up my ability to trust other people to drive me around. if i trusted someone with my innermost thoughts that i have never shared with anyone else, and they used them to be cruel to me, that would severely impede my ability to connect with others.

i just... don't think it does anyone any favours to separate sexual trauma from all other trauma - making it seem like sexual trauma is The Worst Trauma Possible You Can Never Heal From, and on the flipside, make it seem like Well Your Non-Sexual Trauma Cannot Possibly Be That Bad.

TRAUMA TOPIC ASIDE, i think the concept of intimacy has a tendency to get flattened into just the one kind. there are many, Many ways for people to be intimate, many activities that require some form of mutual vulnerability or physical contact, but it seems like we're just very used to placing Acts of Intimacy into the Sexual category. kind of like a venn diagram where the two circles are Sexual Intimacy and Non-sexual Intimacy that are largely overlapping. but what if, instead, it's more that Intimacy is a really big circle, and sex is just one of the circles within it?

the way i think this slots into the whole Relationship Infrastructure thing is that We Like To Categorize Things. if we see two people being very intimate in a way that's not explicitly sexual, it's tempting to think ah yes they are in love AND they're having sex, OBVIOUSLY, because they are clearly capable of having that level of trust and vulnerability together. but what if they're not? does that devalue their relationship? does it make them any less close? these are very chewy questions to ask even without bringing shipping discourse into it, and i would prefer Not To because sexuality is political and there is no right answer.

another way this flattening can be frustrating is all the times non-sexual intimacy is treated as Sexual By Proxy. let's say, for example, you're telling a story, and all forms of intimacy within that story get read as metaphors for sex, despite your actual intentions. there's nothing wrong with using metaphors for sex, especially since Sex Is Political and sometimes we gotta be clever about the storytelling - but it can get very messy if people read sexuality between characters who don't have that, especially characters between which it would be very problematic to portray that. we gotta be able to tell stories about all kinds of close relationships, and surely it should be possible without bringing freud into it at every turn.

intimacy is context-dependent, i would say. a moment of vulnerability can be platonic or romantic or sexual or maybe something else depending on a situation and all the factors involved. human connection is an boundless spectrum, not just a couple boxes.

did any of this make sense? they're just my Thoughts, i'm not a scholar on this i just

#too long for twitter #aro ace tag #asexuality #aromantic #and look. i too am a proponent of calling things gay (complimentary) without it being Explicitly Gay in a sexuality sense.

[finniestoncrane]

What's a kink of each of the riddlers that you feel like you haven't really talked about?

More Riddler Kinks

Riddler Headcanons hooray, finally getting round to this one after the event!! it's a long one too oops... ok i am got INTO this. some of them i think i've mentioned before but i am so glad to put my silly little thoughts into more detail 💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: so many potentially triggering kinks here, cnc, piss, free use, roleplay, rough sex, violence, monster fucking, nude photography

dano

i have written about it a LOT but he definitely has a thing for cnc/rape play

and with him, it comes from a space of feeling like he's not good enough, and follows his life's trajectory of having to take things he wants rather than wait patiently for them to come to him

he wants to be in control of a situation, something he's never had before in any aspect of life

something that allows him to feel like he's in charge, that he's got the power

and at the same time, it's so emotionally fulfilling for him to be trusted by someone to that extent

to know a partner is willing to allow themselves to be so vulnerable around him, to get to be so close and intimate with someone

to feel like he's someone you have actively chosen to trust and let him take part in something like that

and to speak to him like an intelligent adult while you cover rules and boundaries and safe-words

that's so healing for him to experience, and it only amplifies his sweet and adoring behaviour outside of your more intense bedroom sessions

plus, any excuse to offer you the most satisfactorily sickeningly sweet aftercare, that's what he's really after

arkham

i play with this man like he's a fucking doll honestly there's not a kink i wouldn't give him, but allow me to delve into my most recent fixation

because i'm giving him a piss kink and no one can stop me

i don't think it's so much about the piss for him, more about the mess and the sense of control over someone's behaviours and habits

definitely about the embarrassment and humiliation

because the minute you let yourself go, the minute you're vulnerable standing or sitting in front of him

bound by his rules to not interrupt him for bathroom breaks

knowing that any mess you make is your own fault

that's when he gets his kicks

and the ability to chastise and degrade you for making a mess of yourself and having very little self-control is an added benefit

telling you how ashamed you should be, while you can see the smug smile on his face and the growing tent at the front of his stupid cargo pants

i don't think he'd piss in you or on you though. as messy as he is i think even he knows standards of good practice when it comes to germs and such

(he's filthy, yes, but very picky over certain textures and substances, it's the autism)

plus the act of him defiling you would be too much, since this idiot harbours intense feelings of admiration and respect that he's too scared or embarrassed to admit to

gotham

i don't think i've gone into too much detail about his medical fetish, but he definitely has one

i mean, i did write that thing on the autopsy table... but anyway!

definitely veering towards the experimental side of medical roleplay

he'll get all of the correct gear on, nothing inherently sexual about it unless you're into that kind of thing

protective gear though, a smock, rubber gloves, maybe a mask

and you'll be expected to be fully nude, all of you exposed to him so that he can test the limits of each part of you

see how every square inch of your skin reacts to his touch

or to his various 'tools' that he's got, sterilised and prepared to work on you

there's no medical benefits to this, he's not aiming to fix you

but he is definitely good at making you feel much, much better than you did before you were laid down on his table

teased, torturous edging, new experiences and toys

until you're a shuddering mess, ready to be eased up for some aftercare before he cleans up for your next appointment

his desire to study you, to see what makes you tick and what makes you make the sweetest sounds is what motivates him here

and he will take rigorous and extensive notes during and afterwards

and then study them in his down time (or alone time)

telltale

corruption, for sure. like his whole personality revolves around being the best and greatest manipulator and schemer that ever was

so corrupting your innocence, real or roleplayed, gives him everything he wants from a sexual encounter

and in a relationship

it's not like he's 24/7 on with the whole "i am your master" thing

but it leeches into everyday life easily enough when you spend a lot of time in his company

any roleplay scenario where he can play an authoritative character while you are a weaker, more innocent position works for him

professor and student, master and servant, he's not beyond playing god and having you pretend to be a nun either, and there are more taboo pairings he's willing to try

there's often elements of bondage, dominance, spirit breaking, orgasm control

anything where he has the higher ground

and he can teach you and show you new and exciting, or scary, things

having you beg to show him the correct ways, to educate you, to give you a new experience, to touch you in a way no one else has

that's what gets him off for sure

twojar

100% is into breeding, and definitely barebacking

the idea of fucking you completely raw (pending your health checks. he's completely clean and fine, but you on the other hand... he needs the documents)

that's what he's most into, especially if he can incorporate some other kinks into the foreplay or actual sex

and then have the grand finale be painting your insides with his cum, letting you feel the warmth of him

but it has to end with you under him, whichever position you prefer the most he's not fussy

with his cock buried deep inside of you

cumming inside of you and holding himself there, keeping you pinned to him

thrusting a couple more times for good measure so he can be sure he's pumped his seed as deep as it can go

and holding you afterwards, telling you how good you took him

his perfect little breeding stock, his sweet little cumdump

filled up and ready to bear the fruits of his labour

btaa

there is no doubt in my mind that every waking minute that he isn't spending on schemes or building his little gadgets

is spent playing fantasy roleplay games, of any kind, on any platform, alone or in groups

he's a huge nerd! it's one of those things that he'll never outlive, once a big dweeb, always a big dweeb

so a big thing for him is roleplay, and specifically, roleplay where he can involve some monster fucking

he can either play the hero, slaying the beast and then saving the girl, who promptly rewards him with herself to use

or being the hero who sets out to defeat the creature and instead ends up fucking it

or let him be the monster and he'll show you how monstrous he could really be

as long as it involves preparation, dramatic reactions, practice and rehearsing, preferably a script with some room for improv

and, of course, the most extravagant and detailed costumes (accurate to the scenario or time period, obviously)

then he will be a very happy, and satisfied, boy

zero year

i haven't really talked about this but it's a huge one for me personally with him

but i think he's a big fan of free use obviously like he just screams it

loves nothing more than a sort of semi-permanent situation where you spend days completely naked and at his mercy

and add a bit of roleplay into it, maybe you're his live-in housekeeper

cleaning for him, cooking for him, washing him, feeding him

and whenever he feels like it, he can stick his dick in you

but you can't react to him unless he gives you permission

you gotta stand there, kneel there, sit there, lay there while he fucks you without making any sounds

and comitting to whatever task you were in the middle of when he decided to start going at you

i just think it would absolutely send him to the moon to know that when you're walking around naked, bending over in front of him

hanging on his every word and obeying his every command

he could also just decide to press his cock inside of you nonchalantly

unburied

he's literally devoutly into cuckoldery, but he's the bull

imagine watching your partner get railed by some ineffectual dweeb with a penchant for riddles

knowing that he's giving it to them with all he's got, making them scream in pleasure and shout out his name

making eye contact with him at some point

and having him wink at you? stick his tongue out? give you some finger guns?

all with the most smug, self-satisfied grin you've ever seen on a human being

and then to top it off, he's calling out sex-themed riddles?

and laughing at you when you don't get them right?

that's not something you can come back from

that changes someone, on several deep levels

and truthfully, that's the part that he likes the most

the emotional scarring on your ego, and the little stroke his gets

knowing he's so annoying that he's unforgettable, which would be the biggest crime to him

btas

i have these ideas about him that always revolve around something artsy or classy

and while i think he would be into some dorky roleplay (he's definitely pretending to be a minotaur, sorry)

i do, selfishly i suppose, think that he would be into body worshipping

specifically in the form of erotic photography

he'd be keen to take pictures of you, in poses, costumes, scenarios, roleplays

directing you, encouraging you, watching you loosen up and let yourself go

whatever you were comfortable with, that's key here

and he'd cherish seeing your face afterwards when he showed you the final products

knowing he'd captured everything about you that he loves and finds attractive

pictures that he'll keep if you want, or destroy

it doesn't matter to him in the end really

he takes them because he thinks of you as his muse, the act of photographing you, of being allowed the vulnerability

to create with you in mind

that's what he finds most erotic and exciting and ultimately, an expression of his love and adoration for you

young justice

if you managed to get him to find the courage to admit to it, you'd learn his favourite thing is uh...

well... just because it plays into his... awkwardness, and shyness, and inexperience...

just... it makes sense that he has a virginity kink

but interestingly, it goes both ways

while he's so keen to have you show him the moves, and pretend to be inducting him into your little black book

teaching him how to touch you or how to move his hips

he's equally interested in switching the roles up a bit

it's a challenge for him, sure, but he's the riddler! there's no challenge he can't live up to

even if that means weeks of practice and lessons with an acting coach to get past the initial nerves

it would all be worth it to pretend that he was confident, dominant, and knew what he was doing

that and the satisfaction of taking something from you, something important

the honour in knowing he's your first (or at least pretending)

and the lasting impression he might have on you for that

that's the kind of idea that has him rutting into you like a fuckin beast

#i spent so fuckin long on this so please for the love of god #finnie writes #riddler x reader #riddler x you #riddler headcanon #ridler scenario #gotham riddler #arkham riddler #young justice riddler #dano riddler #zero year riddler #batman unburied riddler #bu riddler #telltale riddler #twojar riddler #riddler #the riddler #btaa riddler #btas riddler

[aemehhh]

Regrets and mistakes are memories made- Jotaro x Reader

CW: Canon typical violence, swearing (like, a lot.), blood, deep wounds, hurt, angst, mentions of PTSD, mentions of depression and a panic attack is described in great detail, detailed description of character death, heartbreak. Also, spoiler warning for parts 3-6!

Wc: ~9.5k

A/N: Hello everybody! After I made a poll on here a lil while ago, people voted for a Jotaro fic and of course, your wish is my command.

First off, I want to apologize for any grammar mistakes; english isn't my first language. Also, this is my first fic, so any criticism is appreciated <3

Second of all, the story is made with a fem! Reader in mind, so the pronouns she/her are used. Also, the Reader is a Stand user! The name of the Stand is based on the Song "Head In The Clouds" by Hayd. Please give the Song a listen when you're done reading! :) Link for the song here: https://youtu.be/_aYQZoC3YCY?si=I8hSXMTYTzBmwzXC

Lastly, I am no mental health professional. Every description of depression and panic attacks stems from my own experiences as well as research I did. So, if you can't identify with Readers symptoms, I apologize. I also apologize if Jotaro is OOC. I still hope you have fun reading this story!

Enjoy~!

Love sucks. Like, it really, really fucking sucks.

Okay, no, it doesn't. But it kind of does too. It doesn't suck, when you see how you bring a smile to your partner's face with just your presence. It doesn't suck when you kiss the person you love or feel their touch or their warmth, and your heart just bursts with happiness. It doesn't suck, when your partner has a smile reserved for you and only you. When you whisper sweet nothings into each other's ear, fall asleep tangled in an intimate embrace, and then wake up to your beloved's face in the morning.

 

No, love really doesn't suck when that is the case. In fact, it can be considered to be truly beautiful.

 

It is beautiful when it is reciprocated. And that is where it really does start to fucking suck.

 

You met Jotaro Kujo in your very first year of high school. Jotaro was your classmate back then, and he always sat silently by the window. There was always that bizarre aura to Jotaro, when you look back. He has always had his typical, grumpy demeanor that practically screamed, "Leave me the fuck alone." His appearance spoke for itself. Although he was extremely handsome, having high cheekbones, a nearly perfect nose, the most beautiful blue eyes that have ever graced the earth's presence, as well as gorgeous, black curls; the most common expression on his face was a scowl. Jotaro also had more of a delinquent type of style when it came to how he wore his hair and uniform, and if that wasn't enough, he also told each and every single person who approached him to fuck off. So, he wasn't just a loner; he was kind of a freak, at least in your eyes. Which is precisely why you never bothered to interact with him, even when you became classmates and your assigned desk was next to his.

 

However, the two of you became friends in the long run. Though, to be frank, the way it happened really was bizarre.

 

It started at the beginning of your second year in high school. Unlike Jotaro, you weren't a loner by any means. On the contrary, although you weren't the most popular girl in school, you were social enough to have a close circle of friends that you hung out with regularly, and you didn't need more than that.

 

While the two of you never really spoke to one another, Jotaro was relieved that you were in the seat next to his. You were one of the only girls in the school who wasn't screeching in his ear whenever he walked by. Hell, you didn't even interact with him unless you were forced to by your teacher because of a dumb group assignment.

 

A group project was actually the reason why he started taking notice of you.

 

You two were working on a project with two other classmates. Jotaro was mostly silent, only saying something if absolutely necessary, which wasn't out of the norm for him. He looked out of the window with a bored expression, waiting for the next time he could smoke a much-needed cigarette. At the same time, you were in a heated discussion with a classmate about some stupid argument that needed to be brought up in a debate as part of the project. That classmate had completely disagreed with anything you said, not because he had good arguments, but because that fucker wanted to get on your nerves, and you knew it. You and that asshole were at it for about five minutes, and you were getting increasingly angry when, all of a sudden, the guy just magically agreed with your opinion. More or less. The guy claimed that that exact thought—your argument—just came into his head randomly. Jotaro noticed there was something weird about you at that moment. There was a shift of energy in the air when the guy just suddenly agreed with you, and it rubbed him in the wrong way.

 

Jotaro kept an eye on you after that. He noticed it happening like this a handful of times, where someone wouldn't agree with you for a while, then there would be a sort of shift, and all of a sudden, they'd agree with you. It bothered him real bad now.

 

Jotaro got his "evil spirit" soon after and was arrested. After his grandpa came to Japan and explained the concept of Stands to him, as well as the looming threat over their heads, a 100-year-old vampire named DIO, Jotaro suspected that you might have a Stand as well. After all, according to his grandpa, Stand users attract other Stand users.

 

Jotaro was right with his assumption.

 

You discovered you had a Stand during Jotaro's battle with Noriaki Kakyoin. You were in the nurse's office because you wanted to ask for some painkillers when the nurse, possessed by what you would later find out to be Kakyoin's Stand, attacked Jotaro and two other students. Something within you awoke in that moment, and a humanoid gray ghost came up behind the nurse, whispering in her ear that she would no longer attack the students. Afterwards, Kakyoin's Stand, Hierophant Green, came out of the nurse's body as if in a trance, and Jotaro's own Stand beat Kakyoin to a pulp.

 

Per his request, you followed Jotaro home that day as he carried Kakyoin, whom you discovered to be controlled by DIO. there. From there on, you learned about Stands from Jotaro's grandfather, Mr. Joseph Joestar, as well as his friend Muhammad Avdol, both of whom were Stand users.

 

On that day, you also named your Stand.

 

"So, from what it seems, your Stand has the ability to manipulate someone's thoughts and actions by whispering your command into their ear. This creates a haze that manipulates the opponent's head in such a manner that they think your command was their own thought. Therefore, making them take that action with no question asked. That is quite a useful ability to have." Avdol said while grabbing his chin in thought and looking at you.

 

"I guess now it makes sense why people magically agree with me when I fight with them, huh?" You scratched the back of your head, letting out an awkward and nervous laugh. All of this was just.. bizarre. Stands, a 100-year-old vampire in Egypt? Yeah. Not something that is usually happening in day-to-day life.

 

"So, got a name in mind? You can't just call it a ghost." Mr. Joestar, who insisted you call him Joseph, said with a grin.

 

You looked at the floor for a moment, pondering. Then you had one in mind.

 

"Hmm.. "Head in the Clouds" sounds pretty fitting, doesn't it?." You replied to the older man with a smile.

 

The true adventure began when Jotaro's angel of a mother, Holy, became ill from her Stand's power. Her soul was too kind, too gentle to be able to keep up with it. Avdol examined Holy and predicted that she would only have about 50 days until her body succumbed to her Stand's power and she would die. Mr. Joestar, who was beyond devastated and angry, called some doctors from the renowned Speedwagon Foundation (apparently this guy has connections everywhere in the fucking world) over to look after Holy.

 

Avdol, Joseph, Jotaro, and Noriaki, who was now freed from DIO's curse, planned to take the 50-day trip to Egypt in order to save Holy and defeat DIO. You were asked to join the others. And although hesitant at first, you agreed to tag along.

 

Your parents were contacted by the Speedwagon Foundation a few hours later, and they told them you got a spot in their international exchange program for Japanese students (you allegedly applied months ago). You had a bit of explaining to do that night, but they had no reason to think you were lying, so they let you go.

 

You got close to everyone on the trip. You even had a new guy join the group; a large, French man with silver hair called Jean Pierre Polnareff. He was quite a silly man, sometimes even a bit of a perv, but he was serious when he needed to be. The group sort of became a family to you at some point. Mr. Joestar, who insisted you call him Joseph, was acting like a father to Jotaro, Noriaki and you. Even when he was annoying at times, he kept his heart in the right place and made sure everyone was fed and doing as well as possible. You saw where Holy got her kind heart from. Avdol, although he was gone for some time, recovering from his shot wound given to him by a Stand user, was a very interesting and charming man. You and the others often listened to him talk about his travels all over the world and all the different people he met before.

 

Noriaki, Jotaro and you were the closest to one another, though. You guys formed a close bond that grew with each passing day. While you were indifferent towards Jotaro in the beginning, mainly because you didn't care to bother a person who very obviously wasn't keen on getting attention, you had learned to read him over the course of the trip. His body language and the way his eyes looked in different situations made it fairly easy for you to know what mood Jotaro was in. Take it from growing up in a home where you'd have to guess what your parent's mood was based on their footsteps alone, but your analyzing of his behavior made it easy to figure him out. Jotaro had a cold demeanor, yes, but he was also undeniably loyal, and he was worried deeply about his mother and friends. He protected those close to him with everything he could, and, not to mention, he did have a kickass sense of humor sometimes. You noticed little things about Jotaro too. You took note of how his face started sweating when he got stressed, his right nostril twitching slightly as well, or how he pulled his hat over his eyes when he got flustered or embarrassed, covering that up with his signature mutter of "good grief". You also started looking up to Jotaro the more you witnessed him fight, with Star Platinum's pure strength being something truly out of this world.

 

And while you weren't the most effective when it came to pure strength and close-hand combat, your Stand was strong enough to defend you most times, and your mind-manipulation saved the team's asses plenty as well. Your strategic and quick-thinking skills were impressive, and similar to Noriaki, you were able to come up with plans at the speed of light to figure out when an enemy Stand user was scheming something. This helped you bond with Noriaki, too. Both of you quickly became the team's strategists.

 

You and the guys basically bonded over beating ass. That's a given, though, considering the mission you and the gang were on.

 

You remember that one night, after you guys defeated the Sun. Jotaro, Noriaki, and you were sitting around a fire while Joseph and Polnareff were asleep. Avdol was still out of commission because of the shot wound, and Iggy, the dog Stand user that would later join you, wasn't there yet either. Or was he? (You aren't sure anymore.).

 

The three of you were talking. Well, kinda, it was mostly you and Noriaki talking about an ongoing manga that came out after a video game series, while Jotaro sat and listened to you, occasionally throwing in a comment or two. It was easy talking to the guys, maybe because all of you were the same age. That night, the three of you fell asleep by the fire with a light mood in the air. Nowadays, you look back on small moments like these fondly, a warmth embracing your heart.

 

But it hasn't always been that way.

 

"Death is inevitable. We all die one day."

 

Avdol muttered these words a few nights before he would die. The group of you were in a hotel room, most likely Joseph's. Iggy was asleep on the bed, Jotaro was smoking a cigarette with Polnareff on the balcony, and Noriaki was still in the hospital. You, Avdol, and Joseph sat at the table and drank coffee. You started the conversation. The injuries everyone, including you, got during the trip were heavy on your mind.

 

"Do you guys ever worry about dying here? Like, at all?" You broke the comfortable silence that was in the air. Your anxiety gnawed at your heart.

 

"Where did that question come from?" Joseph looked at you and laughed; today you know that it was a strained laugh, uncomfortable, even. Avdol only looked at you with a raised brow.

 

Joseph laughing made your 17-year-old self feel insecure about your feelings. You averted your gaze to your hands and started fiddling with them. "I.. I don't know. To be honest, I've just been thinking about death a lot these past few days, I guess. Day 50 is about three days away as well.." you hesitated. "I'm just overthinking. Forget I said anything." There was a long stretch of silence that followed until Avdol spoke up.

 

"Death is inevitable. Each one of us is going to die one day." Avdol placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a light squeeze before continuing. "I'm not scared of dying, no. If I live my life to the fullest, I will never have regrets, and if I have no regrets, I can die without worries. It's the only way to fight the fear of death, and let me give you this piece of advice; it's how you live a happier life."

 

Joseph cleared his throat. The topic made him uncomfortable; you know that today. "You know, you're still young." He started. "I don't think you could die without regrets, even if you tried. You're still in high school; you have the whole world to see. I don't plan on letting you kids die, and neither am I letting Holy die. It's not your time yet."

 

He was right. It wasn't your time. Neither was it Noriaki's, Avdol's, or Iggy's. But unlike the aforementioned, you were lucky enough to survive the battle against DIO.

 

To be frank, you barely made it. DIO targeted you after he killed Noriaki. And just before finishing you off completely, Joseph attacked him. If it weren't for him, you'd have been mush on the sidewalk.

 

You were hospitalized for about a month and a half after the battle. Your parents were told you were in a car accident with your "research group". In reality, DIO dropped a car onto your body. Your stand protected you well enough from dying, but you still had grave injuries. Part of your lower spine and hip got crushed. They performed surgery, added some metal plates and some other high-tech stuff to your bones so you would be able to walk again, and you also had to get a kidney transplant. There was some more stuff to it, but you never bothered to remember what they did in detail. The memory stung too much.

 

None of your physical pain could even compare to what you felt emotionally, anyway.

 

Survivor's guilt honestly ate you up alive. It gnawed on your heartstrings and burned as if someone poured a bottle of chili sauce on your heart and lungs. You felt even more horrible when you couldn't attend Noriaki's funeral. Joseph was the only one to go. Jotaro felt too guilty to be there.

 

Speaking of, Jotaro frequently visited you in the hospital.

 

You would've thought that Jotaro wanted to forget all about the trip and bury it—and you—in the past. But no, he often came by. He paid more attention in class, you noticed, since he always brought you notes. He also helped you study.

 

You avoided the topic of the trip like the plague at first. Until you couldn't.

 

When you got out of the hospital, Jotaro and you spoke much more at school since you joined him on the roof during his smoke breaks (you picked up the habit as well, not your proudest moment). So, it was weird to not see you at school that day.

 

Jotaro has felt uneasy a few times in his life. That day was one of them. He knew that your parents weren't going to be home for another two weeks; you told him that they were on a month-long vacation overseas, which in turn meant that you'd been alone for a while. He would never have admitted it out loud back then, but he was worried about you, especially because, as he came to find out, you didn't call in sick that day either.

 

He got even more worried when you didn't open the door. He rang the bell at least six times and knocked for three solid minutes until he got sick of it. He used Star Platinum to open your door from the inside and let himself in. He was panicking, picturing a bloody mess in your room. He thought, maybe that one pawn of DIO's, that DIO wrote about in his diary, hunted you down to finish you off and get revenge. He pictured blood, a corpse—the most grotesque image you could think of—and his heart pumped harder with every step he took towards your room.

 

He busted your door down when he walked in. It might not have been graceful, but fuck it. He blamed the adrenaline later on.

 

The first thing Jotaro saw was shattered glass on the floor. It looked like it was a mirror once. The next things were your school supplies that were scattered everywhere, as well as dirt and a destroyed flower pot. Your wardrobe apparently joined the mess too. Its broken, wooden remains adorning the ground, and a lot of your clothes were at the center of it. If it hadn't been for your cowering form in the very back corner of the room, Jotaro would have thought you'd been robbed.

 

That night, you remember, they appeared in your dream. They, as in, your friends who didn't survive the trip. You were all meeting up in Jotaro's garden, and everyone was a little older. It was fun; it felt warm; it felt like home. There was laughter coming from Joseph and Avdol; they were laughing at Iggy and Polnareff, who were fighting as usual. Noriaki was helping Holy pour tea into everyone's cup, and you and Jotaro were on the side, smoking a cigarette.

 

That's how you knew it was a dream; you were smoking. You only started after the Egypt trip, much to your doctor's disappointment.

 

It was a beautiful dream. And it sucked. It sucked because it wasn't reality. It sucked because Iggy, Avdol, and Noriaki were dead, and they were never coming back.

 

When you woke up that day, you almost couldn't get out of bed. Your bed was comfortable; it was safe. Your room was safe. Until it didn't feel safe anymore.

 

The dream didn't trigger the breakdown. It was stupid (a comment your therapist would scold you for), actually. It was a dog barking in your neighbor's garden. This past week, you noticed that your neighbors got a new puppy. Also, guess what? Of course, the fucking puppy had to be black and white. During that time, you repressed all memories of the group, apart from when they appeared in your dream. However, for some fucking dumbass reason, that dog just brought everything back.

 

Your chest tightened in that moment. You knew the feeling of having to cry, and although you didn't want to, the tears just came. Usually, that wouldn't be a problem. You could wipe the tears, take a breath, and go about your day. That day, you couldn't.

 

Everything made you angry. You were extremely frustrated, and when you looked into the mirror, you didn't see yourself; all you saw was failure. You saw yourself as an utter, embarrassing failure. A mess that couldn't protect your friends for the life of you. The sight pissed you off. You grabbed the mirror and smashed it on the ground; the glass was in pieces on your floor. When you turned around, you saw your desk, your homework from the day prior still being there. Fuck it, fuck school, fuck every single thing. You didn't deserve it. Why did you get to do your homework when Noriaki, who should have been able to do it, was now a rotting corpse inside of an ugly casket with a huge ass hole in his chest? Fuck no. You threw it all on the ground, enraged that you would even have the nerve to go about your life normally. You throwing your homework on the ground also caused your flower pot to smash into pieces, joining the mess. While you were at it, you thought, there was a polaroid of you and three of your friends from school that was taken during the last summer festival in your town. It was hung up on your closet door. You were smiling in the picture, holding up a peace sign with one hand and a small fan with the other. Just who the fuck did you think you were to believe you deserved any sort of fun? You threw your closet onto the ground as well, the wood cracking as it hit the floor, coating your clothes with wooden splinters.

 

At the same time, you couldn't stop crying. The tears wouldn't stop, no matter what you did. Not only that, your usually silent hiccups turned into full-blown sobs, and your sobs started turning into screams. Your chest hurt, and it became difficult to breathe. You couldn't take a deep breath anymore; and to be honest, you weren't even sure if you were able to take a regular breath. Whenever you tried, a heartbroken sob would interrupt your attempt. Your inability to breathe made your heart pump faster in your chest, and it hurt. Everything hurt: your throat, your chest, your head, your hands. You were trembling but sweating, as if you ran a marathon; simultaneously, you felt cold as if you sat naked in fucking snow. You didn't know that it was a panic attack back then, you found that out when you went to therapy a few months later. At that moment, however, you felt as though you were dying.

 

"You're alive." Jotaro muttered when he saw you crouched in the corner that was opposite to your bed.

 

"I wish I wasn't." You replied with a hoarse voice.

 

"I know." was his reply as he sat down next to you on the ground. Jotaro usually never sat down on the ground.

 

You sat in silence until nighttime that day. He never left your side. And while he didn't hug you or tell you that everything would be okay, you felt safe.

 

You guys started talking about Egypt after that incident. Jotaro basically dragged you out of your broken-down room and to his place. Holy didn't ask questions for once when she saw you, which Jotaro appreciated.

 

That night, you opened up about how you felt about everything. Looking back, you know that it must have been really fucking hard for Jotaro to listen. Even though he acted like it didn't affect him that much, nowadays, you know how Jotaro felt, and still feels, about Egypt.

 

Weirdly enough, the trauma made you two bond even more than the entire Egypt trip. Your therapist says that is because the two of you share a traumatic experience that not many people can relate to.

 

Oh, yeah, your therapist. Jotaro told Joseph about your panic attack, who, in turn, made you go to the best therapist he could find in Japan. Your first therapist retired about ten years ago; now you have another one. Joseph, funnily enough, still pays for it, even though you're more than capable of footing the bill yourself. That senile old man forgets every single thing on this planet but somehow never forgets to pay that bill every month.

 

Your therapist got the same story your parents did: a car accident with your research group. Three of your squad members died; you got critically injured; yada yada. They helped you, though. Ever since you started, you have learned to deal with your emotions better. You also haven't destroyed your room since going.

Back to the past and how you and Jotaro bonded, though. Not only did you smoke cigarettes together during your lunch breaks at school, you met up a lot in private. You hung out and read manga together in silence. Often times you also played video games, a habit you two picked up after Noriaki died. Noriaki loved video games.

 

You learned to appreciate Jotaro a lot. You often stayed over at his place and learned about some of the things he was passionate about. Contrary to popular belief at school, Jotaro was extremely intelligent and started taking his studies seriously after Egypt. Often times, he was even top of the class when it came to his exams. He was also super into marine life, something you noticed when you visited his room for the first time. When you asked him to tell you about it, he didn't shut up for about two hours. You've never heard so many words come out of Jotaro's mouth, like, ever.

 

And while you were oblivious to it at first, he slowly started to occupy your thoughts.

 

It came gradually, your crush on Jotaro. At first, it was just you missing him on days you weren't hanging out together. Then, your heartbeat picked up when you spoke to him or saw him. You started to feel giddy when you met up and you started dreaming of him.

 

It was super fucking embarrassing.

 

But it also felt super fucking good to love Jotaro. You weren't going to say shit, though. Ever.

 

Your dynamic never changed. You and Jotaro were practically glued at the hip at some point. It was obvious that you were going to follow Jotaro to the USA for college when he proposed that he wanted to study marine biology in Florida.

 

When you and him went, you got an apartment from Joseph as a gift. The two of you were supposed to be roommates all throughout college. And, honestly, you hoped to be roommates for the rest of your life.

 

It was fun being roommates. It really was. Freshly eighteen and graduated, the two of you entered your apartment and lived to the fullest. You cooked together, watched movies, played video games, and, of course, you were there for each other when it was needed.

 

Even though the two of you were in therapy, night terrors were still frequent enough at that time. It was always the same pattern. One of you would wake up from the nightmare, wake the other up to talk and then you would go into the living room and talk about it, or just cry.

 

One of these nights was also the first time Jotaro hugged you.

 

Jotaro was the one with a night terror that time. The two of you were sat on the couch in the living room as he talked to you about Noriaki appearing in his dreams. You listened, as you usually did, and that was all he needed. He knew you understood, and he knew you were there. This exact stability gave both of you comfort. He wrapped his arms around you tightly and just held you. He didn't say anything, and you didn't think he needed to.

 

Although, looking back, you definitely interpreted that hug wrong. While it made your heart flutter, to Jotaro, it was nothing more than showing appreciation.

 

Jotaro introduced you to his girlfriend about three years after the two of you moved to the US. She was a lovely girl, blonde, perfect figure, beautiful face and a disgustingly sweet personality. All in all; she was the perfect package, and she looked fucking perfect next to your perfect, perfect Jotaro. Shit.

 

You wish you could say you hated her guts, but you couldn't.

 

You couldn't hate her, because Jotaro loved her. He loved her more than words could describe, and you knew it. You knew from his eyes, from his body language and from the way he talked about her.

 

Oh, and if all of that wasn't enough, he got her pregnant about a year after they got together, and the two of them got married in the same year (her parents insisted—they were very religious). If you look at their wedding pictures, you could see the bump under her dress. If you look at the wedding pictures again, you'll see yourself standing next to Jotaro with a big smile on your face. You're a great actress, you've got to give yourself that credit.

 

You moved out of the apartment about a month before Jotaro's daughter was born. They needed the space, and you didn't want to trouble the newlyweds with moving, so you sucked it up and left the apartment you called home for three years. Joseph was generous, as you'd come to notice. He had a single-bedroom apartment that he gifted you, and he claimed that it wouldn't feel right to him if you had to rent, especially as a college student. You took it, obviously.

 

Jolyne was a beautiful little girl. Jotaro made you her godmother; no questions asked. After he got married and had a kid, you'd think the two of you would lose touch, but no. Jotaro made sure to call you at least once a day and insisted on weekly meetups. You don't know if that was because he got so used to you that he couldn't live without your presence or because he knew that solitude made you spiral mentally, but you appreciated his efforts nonetheless. It felt good to be around Jotaro, even if it hurt to see him live a life you've been fantasizing of having with him.

 

Most importantly, however, you were a rock in Jotaro's life that he couldn't live without, and that feeling was mutual. Your therapist would call it an unhealthy attachment, but neither of you cared. You needed each other close.

 

"You're stressed." Your eyes locked with Jotaro's just a moment prior. The blue hue in them was as bright as ever, but his expression, the small furrow of his brow, and the slight twitch of his left nostril gave him away.

 

"Fucking figured that out from just a look? Good grief." He sighed as he averted his gaze. Jotaro couldn't pull his hat down to hide his embarrassment, as he would usually do. Ever since he got together with his wife, she asked him to take it off when they were home.

 

"I've lived with you for years, Jotaro. I can even figure out when you're about to shit your pants because you had a fucking McDonald's milkshake. Spit it out; what's bothering you?"

 

"She has the birthmark. I.. Fuck, I can't even sleep anymore." Jotaro and you were sitting on his balcony while you were taking a smoke. He stopped that habit before Jolyne was born, but picked it back up a few months later. He rubbed his temple as he closed his eyes.

 

"You're scared that this pawn of DIO's, that he wrote about in his diary, is gonna hunt her down one day, huh?" You replied, your eyes still locked on his form.

 

"I am. Yeah. Fucking terrified, actually. I never would've thought I'd become a softie like this."

 

"That's the parental instinct, Jotaro. It's love. You understand your mom a little better now, huh?"

 

"I do. I was a fucking bitch to her back then."

 

"You still are a bitch, you know?" You joked, putting out your now-finished cigarette.

 

"Shut the fuck up." He shook his head, though his lips were curled in a very small smile. He did this more often, ever since Jolyne was born.

 

"You know damn well you don't want me to shut up."

 

"You're right. I don't."

 

It was a Saturday night in 1999 when Jotaro rang you out of your sleep to tell you to join him on a trip back to Japan. He had to pay his uncle a visit. Yeah, uncle. Apparently, Joseph cheated on Suzie Q with a college student back in the early eighties. The Kujo/Joestar family was sort of a mess for a while afterwards.

 

The person you felt the most sorry for was Josuke, the kid. He was pulled into all of this for no reason.

 

Jotaro asked you to join him because he "needed your assistance" to track some enemy stand users who used an arrow that turned other people into stand users. You knew that he didn't need your help, but he wanted to get you out of your house. You remember that you felt like shit at that time, because your long-term boyfriend broke up with you. His reasoning was that he didn't feel like he was the love of your life and he wasn't wrong about that. You loved him, you really did, but he wasn't Jotaro. The love of your life would forever be Jotaro, no matter how many people you tried to date as a desperate attempt to dull the ache that your heart was consumed by every day. And, of course, you accepted Jotaro's offer to go together. You always would.

 

Morioh was an experience, to say the least.

 

Not only were there more Stand users than you'd ever seen in your life, it was also a strangely wholesome journey.

Josuke was a great kid, and so were his friends. The bond between everyone really warmed your heart, and you were happy that you got to be part of it. Although you had to admit that you certainly weren't prepared to find and fight an actual serial killer, who was, of course, a Stand user as well. Looking back at it, though, the kids were very reliable, Josuke almost defeated that Kira guy all by himself after all.

 

Josuke, Okoyasu, and Koichi also caused some embarrassing tension between you and Jotaro at some point.

 

"Ya know, it's actually super cute." Josuke grinned at you.

 

"What is?" You paused and set down your coffee cup. It was your last few days in Morioh, and you were at a café the kids frequented. Jotaro and you sat next to each other while Koichi, Okoyasu, and Josuke sat across from you. Joseph was also there with Shizuka, the baby he and Josuke found.

 

"The two of you. Why didn't y'all tell us you were married?" Okoyasu commented with a pout.

 

Jotaro and you exchanged looks with a raised brow. Then it clicked: Jotaro was wearing his ring.

 

"It's because we're not married." Jotaro deadpanned.

 

"Oh." All three of them got quiet. "We just.. We thought you were because of, uhm.. the ring. Sorry." Josuke averted his gaze.

 

"Don't worry, Josuke. I mean, the big, mean guy doesn't really talk much about his family. Do you guys even know he has a kid?"

 

You successfully changed the subject by bringing up Jolyne back then. The guys drilled Jotaro to tell them everything, and although he was never a big talker, he did talk about Jolyne. He adored her; everyone knew so. Jotaro's eyes lit up just a tiny bit whenever he could tell people about her. The subject change allowed you to stay for a few minutes before you made up an excuse to leave the guys. When you left the café, you immediately went to the cemetery. Coincidentally, Morioh was Noriaki's hometown and also his resting place.

 

You had never mustered up the courage to visit Noriaki's grave before. It felt weird, looking at the stone with his name, but regardless, you sat down in front of the grave and spoke to him. To anyone else, you probably looked like a maniac. You couldn't tell anyone else about your feelings for Jotaro and you figured Noriaki would enjoy an update on your life after twelve years, even if it was sort of depressing as fuck.

 

It felt liberating, telling Noriaki everything. Even if he wasn't physically in front of you, you felt as though he was right there, listening to every single word you had to say, and by the end of your monologue, you were crying.

 

What you didn't expect was Joseph standing next to you after you had been crying like a bitch at Noriaki's grave for a while. You jolted when he said your name.

 

"You know, the only reason you two didn't end up together was Jolyne, right? He loves you, but he's terrified of losing you." His older, raspy voice spoke softly.

 

"How would you even know that?" You questioned the old man, but you didn't make eye contact with him. Your eyes were glued to Noriaki's gravestone.

 

"Because I know what it looks like when you're someone's whole world. You're his world, and he can't lose that. Being your friend is easier than taking the risk of the two of you ever breaking up in the future."

 

Joseph's words made you cry again. They hurt even more than if Jotaro ever rejected you personally, because they meant that it was hopeless. No matter what, you could never, ever be with him.

 

Jotaro got divorced from his wife in 2002, three years after Morioh. By that time, you were a successful lawyer in a big firm, while Jotaro was a big researcher in marine biology; he even got a doctorate. You and him hadn't seen each other in a month at that point. Both of you were busy; Jotaro was often on trips for either the Speedwagon foundation, because of possible clues regarding that one friend of DIO's, or he was doing actual research regarding his job. You were busy because you thought that drowning yourself in work would help you move on from him. Spoiler alert; it didn't.

 

The way you found out about the divorce was when Jotaro showed up at your doorstep one day with a big suitcase in his hand.

 

"What the fuck are you doing here?" You'd gotten home half an hour prior, so you were still dressed in your work attire.

 

"We filed for divorce. Can I move in for a while?" He asked, though; he had already made his way into your house. He knew you wouldn't say no.

 

And you didn't. You guys lived together for about five years after he moved in. He even paid half of the bills, and you almost felt like you did when you guys were still living together in college.

 

Living together with Jotaro was easy; it was warm, and it also fucking sucked. You couldn't avoid your feelings when the two of you were together all the time. Everything felt too fucking domestic, and it made you want to cry.

 

Jotaro was the perfect roommate; he made you guys breakfast whenever he wasn't on a trip. He cleaned up the house when you were working late; he went grocery shopping. Fuck, he even knew when you would be on your period and made sure you were stacked up on pads and painkillers. Since you only had one big bathroom in your rather small house, he kept the door open while he shaved his stubble, so you could brush your teeth and do your makeup for the day. You guys were basically acting like a married couple, except for the legal status and the romantic aspect.

 

You noticed that Jotaro wasn't truly happy, though, and you knew why. After getting divorced, Jotaro essentially abandoned Jolyne. The reason why Jotaro and his wife got divorced was because his ex was tired of him rarely being home. She lost feelings for him along the way and gave him the divorce papers about two days before he showed up at your doorstep. The divorce didn't hit Jotaro as hard, he told you. What did hit him was that he didn't see Jolyne much. They maybe saw one another once every two or three months. You felt sorry for her; the divorce hurt that beautiful girl and your heart broke for her. You visited Jolyne and her mother a lot, even after the divorce, because you wanted her to still have a small constant in her life. You supported her whenever you could. However, Jotaro asked you to not bring her to the house. He started distancing himself from her, because he was growing anxious the older she got. DIO's friend and the diary never left Jotaro's mind and he simply didn't want Jolyne to be in danger. You understood, so, slowly, you started distancing yourself too.

 

It was 2007 when Jotaro asked you to move back to Japan with him. Jolyne, who was 14 at the time, got arrested for car theft. Jotaro pulled the harshest dick move he could and told his ex-wife that he wasn't going to help her bail Jolyne out and that he got a job offer as a professor at Tokyo University, which he accepted. His ex didn't even have time to cuss him out before he hung up the phone. Jotaro had ultimately abandoned his daughter, and even if he tried to play tough, he was devastated because he didn't want to leave her behind.

 

Why did you know that? Well, Jotaro still had night terrors. So, of course, your old tradition of going to the living room to talk it out had been picked up again. Jotaro hated himself for abandoning Jolyne, but he kept saying that he'd rather cut all ties with her to keep her safe than watch her die in front of him. You agreed with him. You wouldn't be able to live with yourself either, if you were in his shoes.

 

Of course you agreed to follow him back to Japan; you'd follow him anywhere he went anyway; he didn't even need to ask. Home is where he is. Even if it meant quitting your job at the law firm.

 

You were more at ease in Japan anyway. It's home. Plus, you got to visit Josuke and the others in Morioh more often, and, of course, Noriaki's grave. The kids grew up a lot in the years you haven't seen them. Josuke got his doctorate to become a surgeon, Koichi worked as a criminal psychologist, and Okoyasu got a job as a police officer. Oh, and Koichi and Yukako got engaged. Yeah, they certainly weren't kids anymore.

 

When you moved back, Jotaro and you decided to move in together again. It proved useful with the bills, and you got used to one another's presence anyway. You definitely weren't complaining about spending more time with him. After he accepted the position as a professor, he had more time on his hands compared to when he worked in research. He was still trying to hunt down DIO's little buddy, though. Still, it wasn't as bad as before, and he was home a lot more.

 

You got a new job in the American Consulate of Japan about six months after moving back with Jotaro. It was pretty boring, but the bills got paid. During work, you always looked forward to the evenings when you got home, because usually Jotaro would have a meal prepared for the two of you. You started eating dinner together every night after some time. It was always one of you waiting for the other one to get home, then you would heat up the food and eat together, either in front of the TV, binging a show you liked, or you sat at the dinner table, where you would talk about anything and everything. It was nice seeing Jotaro let lose even if it was just a tiny bit.

 

It was about four months after moving to Japan when you and Jotaro began implementing a "besties day". It honestly was just a synonym for a date night, if you think back to it. The two of you would either go for a walk, go on a small road trip, or have dinner at a nice restaurant, and, at some point down the line, the energy between the two of you shifted. He started to put his arm around your shoulder while you'd watch a movie, and you'd play with his hand sometimes. You fell asleep on the couch  so often that you guys just decided to sleep in the same bed and set up a TV in Jotaro's bedroom, your own bedroom basically turned into a room where you kept your clothes, nothing more.

 

It was on one of those evenings when you almost confessed your love to Jotaro.

 

You remember that the two of you were watching Zoolander on Jotaro's bed. He had his arm around your shoulder, and you were cuddled up to his side, his arm a heavy but welcome weight on your body. Jotaro was caressing your back as he stared at the TV, and his face got illuminated beautifully by the light of the TV. While Jotaro focused on the hilarious movie that played, your eyes were solely set on him. You took in how he had a few bags under his eyes, signaling that he was tired, and he wore his hair shorter compared to when you were teens, but the haircut complimented his face perfectly. From the side, his jawline and nose stood out to you. Jotaro had a light crook to his nose, but it looked good on him. Additionally, Jotaro was still a giant, muscular and tall (curse his amazing genetics and his gym habit.), just like when you were younger. Your heartbeat picked up in the moment, and you couldn't help but smile. Jotaro was so, so beautiful and you couldn't contain how happy all of this made you.

 

"You're so beautiful, Jotaro." You mumbled as you looked up to lock eyes with him.

 

"Where did that come from all of a sudden?" Jotaro stiffened for a moment, his eyes widening just slightly, before looking back at you.

 

"I dunno. I.. just felt the sudden need to let you know. I think you're so beautiful, Jotaro, I really do. Call me a sap or whatever, but I have never met a man as beautiful as you. Inside and out." You kept your eyes locked with his. Your words came from your heart and this would be the closest you could get to confessing your love to him without directly telling him.

 

Jotaro blushed just a hint, but you couldn't see it in the darkness. The movie might have lit up the room a tad, but it was not enough to make out the small pink hue on his cheek. He averted his eyes and pulled you closer to him while clearing his throat. There was a few minutes of silence before he spoke up.

 

"I think you're beautiful too."

 

You've never felt happier, but of course, it wasn't going to last.

 

It was January 21st of 2009 and you were just on your way out of a store. It would be Jotaro's birthday soon and you were out to shop for a present for him. You decided that a new watch would be appropriate, since he has been saying that he needed to get a watch soon. The watch you got was rather simple, a thick, silver wristband and the clock had blue details that accentuated the silver. Figuring silver would go perfectly with his skin tone, as it is more on the cool side, and the blue details would fit his eyes, you happily bought it for him and gripped the bag tightly when you left the store.

 

Since you were out late to avoid the massive rush-hour crowd, it was 10PM sharp when you reached the train station. You were alone and listening to music, when you noticed a figure close to where you were standing. It was a tall man you had never seen before, but you didn't really feel threatened by him. The man had long, white hair and sat on a bench, his eyes were entirely white, too and he held onto a cane. Thus, you figured he might be blind. You took out your phone, an iPhone 3G, a newly released phone that still shocked you. A touch screen was just super futuristic to you, considering you remember the old landline times. Geez, now you felt old. You sent out a text to Jotaro, telling him you're at the station and that you'd be home soon.

 

You waited for the train for roughly five minutes before you heard a loud bang, followed by a few more. A sharp pain spread throughout your body; first in your throat, then in your abdomen and in your legs, then you felt it in your shoulder. You heard the clunk of small metal pieces falling onto the floor.

 

You sink to the floor. You're falling into liquid, a lot of it pooling around you more and more by the second. You can't breathe, only gargling out because there is blood pooling in your mouth as well. It's cold, everything is cold. Your heart is pumping loudly in your chest and your head is getting foggier by the second. Did you really just get shot? But how? There was nothing there! You turn your head weakly, spitting blood out onto the pavement as you desperately try to inhale just a tiny bit of air. This can't happen. You can't die like this!

 

But you are.

 

You grab onto the bag you held in your hand tightly. The bag that carries Jotaro's birthday gift. Fuck, Jotaro? He's home, he's waiting for you. You have to call him, you have to get home to him! You can't leave him here, you can't go! You have to be there for him! Who will be there for him when you are gone? You have so much to say to him, you haven't even told him that you love him!

 

You look around. Your sight is getting increasingly foggy and your heart and lungs are burning. Everything is wet and hurts. Everything is hard. You're dying, you know you're dying. You're actively bleeding out in a random train station and you cannot do anything about it. You start to panic; your heart is picking up it's pace, and you choke on your own blood again.

 

All of a sudden, you hear Avdol's voice in the distance. Avdol? Why is Avdol speaking to you?

 

"Death is inevitable. Each one of us is going to die one day. I'm not scared of dying, no. If I live my life to the fullest, I will never have regrets, and if I have no regrets, I can die without worries. It's the only way to fight the fear of death- and let me give you this piece of advice; it's how you live a happier life."

 

You freeze. You have to call Jotaro, you have to call him right fucking now. Where the fuck is your god damn phone?! You spot it a few feet away from you, on the floor and try crawling your way towards it. As you do so, the blood keeps flooding out of your body, leaving a red, ugly trail on the white tiles of the station. Every move is excruciatingly painful, but you have to bite through it. Your only focus right now is calling Jotaro. You cannot leave this world before telling him.

 

You try crawling, but you can't go any further. Your limbs shake and you can't hold yourself upright anymore. Wait, that's it! Head in the Clouds! You haven't used it in years, but now, now you need it more than ever before. You called Head in the Clouds out to make it grab your phone; which it does, albeit slowly. Its grey, ghostly form mirrored your state. It was weak, but it still reached out to the small, square mobile device as you struggled to keep your eyes open.

 

It's just a few seconds, just a few more seconds, please! You keep repeating the word "please" in your head; you have to stay awake for just a few more seconds. You won't die here, you refuse to die here! There's so much more you want to do! You want to kiss Jotaro, you want to wake up next to him one more time! You want to hug him tight and go on another walk! You want to see his beautiful eyes reflected in the mirror as he shaves his face while you're brushing your teeth next to him! You can't go!

 

Avdol's words play in a loop in your head as you shakily try to unlock your tiny phone. Your bloody fingers smear the screen and your head keeps lulling to the side as you force yourself through these painful moments.

 

Avdol said you shouldn't have any regrets if you want to fight the fear of death. You have regrets, you're terrified of leaving this world.

 

You make it. You successfully dial Jotaro's number. You hear his voice on the other line.

 

"Hey, why are you calling? You just texted me. Everything okay?"

 

His voice. His beautiful, beautiful deep voice. God, you love his voice so much. It's such a warm sound for your soul. Never stop talking, Jotaro.

 

You spit out more blood as you try taking any sort of breath. Your voice is barely there as you choke out his name.

 

"J-Jo... Jota...ro.."

 

Jotaro calls out your name, his voice sounds serious now. Worried, even. You can't answer him. He calls out your name louder.

 

"This isn't fucking funny! What's wrong?! Are you okay?!"

 

Wow, he sounds like he's panicking. Or does he? You're not sure anymore. His voice is far away. You want him to keep saying your name, but not like this. You don't want him to worry, you want him to be happy. Will he be happy? Can he move on when you're gone? He has to. You know he won't have a choice.

 

Maybe it's better to die regretful than hurting him even more. He'll feel guilty, if you tell him you love him. He shouldn't feel guilty, you don't want him to. It's okay, you think. He doesn't need to know.

 

You muster up a big breath, your body feels light. It doesn't hurt anymore. You're still cold and it's wet, but it's okay. Your heartbeat slows down.

 

"J-Jojo.. I'm.. okay.. " He hates the name. You know he does. But it's easier on your voice right now.

 

"Where are you?! Are you still at the station?! Were you attacked?!"

 

He sounds scared. Please don't be scared, Jotaro. Please don't be scared for me, you think.

 

"'m.. okay. Don't-" you cough up a little more blood. "It's not your fault, Jojo.. It never was."

 

You won't tell him. He's scared. He will be hurting even more. You can't do that to him.

 

"What the fuck do you mean "not my fault"? Tell me where you are, please! Are you hurt?!" Jotaro's voice is cracking. He's yelling into the phone.

 

You can't feel your arm anymore and your eyes lose focus. Your phone drops to the floor, next to you, right into the crimson pool around you. Your head is pounding and you feel so, so tired. You can close your eyes for just a second, right?

 

You see Iggy in front of you when you open your eyes again. He's wagging his tiny tail as he bites your hand softly to wake you up. When you look around, you see Avdol, shaking his head slightly as he crosses his arms, but then he gives a small smile. Noriaki is crouching next to you and smiling sadly.

 

"I wish we didn't see you again this soon. But destiny has its own plans, huh?" Noriaki spoke. His voice was soft, so soft. He still sounds this same. You feel warmer, somehow and there's no wetness clinging onto your clothes anymore. Noriaki takes your hand as he helps you get up.

 

"Come on, we have to go."

"Go where?"

"To the other side"

You hesitate. But then Avdol takes your other hand and Iggy walks ahead of you guys with a joyful bark. Everything feels warm here, it's so nice.

"Okay."

So, you go. You disappear with the three of them and you feel happy. You don't mind having to wait in order to see Jotaro again one day.

 

It's January 31st of 2009 at 8PM when Jotaro stands in front of your gravestone. He brought you a bouquet of white roses, which he lays down gently at your resting place. He is wearing the watch you bought on the day you died. If you were still here, you'd probably be overjoyed to see him wearing it.

 

Joseph is next to him, the two men staring down at the cold stone.

 

"I loved her. I loved her more than anyone I have ever loved in my life." Jotaro speaks up after half an hour of just standing in front of your grave.

 

"I know." Joseph just replies, one hand on his cane and his other hand placed softly on Jotaro's shoulder. If you looked at the pair closely, you'd see Jotaro's shoulders shaking just a tiny bit.

 

Jotaro was the love of your life. But sometimes, destiny has other plans for people who truly love each other.

 

So, yeah, love really fucking sucks for Jotaro and you.

#jotaro x reader #jjba #jjba x reader #jotaro kujo #jojos bizarre adventure #heartbreak

[mariposa-writes]

Shattered Bonds

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader

Word count: 2.6k

Overview: In the aftermath of your brother's mysterious death, a shattered bond of trust separates you from your closest friend, Simon.

CW: Grief and loss, substance abuse, mentions of death, mild violence, mental health.

Author's Note: Thinking about doing a second part to this. Let me know if I should make it a happy or sad ending. Please like, comment, and REBLOG.

Your deepest nightmare had manifested itself into reality. You were completely and utterly alone.

Although, to be fair, your residence was currently bustling with individuals. Some were acquaintances from high school, while others were mere strangers. Nevertheless, none of their presence held any significance.

For in that very moment, you were truly alone in this world.

Your brother, confidant, partner in mischief, your lifeline—had passed away. You grappled with the daunting prospect of life without him. The idea of moving forward, devoid of his calls, embraces, or even his woefully bad dad jokes, was unfathomable.

You sat on your couch, surrounded by well-intentioned individuals attempting to offer solace, their words often fading into a distant murmur.

"He's in a better place now."

"He'll always be with you."

"Your brother was a great man."

_______

A month had crawled by since the funeral, each day stretching out like a lifetime. From the moment you woke up to the departure of the last guest from your home, time moved at a glacial pace, as if it had forgotten how to flow.

The ache in your heart remained as profound as ever, a constant companion through these long, lonely weeks.

Your nightly routine had undergone a transformation, abandoning its structure and order. Instead, you settled for a quick shower before cocooning yourself in the familiar embrace of your sweatpants and a t-shirt that had once belonged to your brother. The fabric still carried his scent, a faint trace of his presence that offered a small measure of comfort in this new, uncertain reality.

The kettle on the stove reached its boiling point, its shrill whistle slicing through the heavy air just as a knock echoed at your door. You took the kettle off the burner, wondering who it could be at this late hour of the night.

"What are you doing here?" You questioned, your gaze drilling into the man before you.

"I came to make sure you were okay," he replied.

"Cut the act, Simon. You ignore my calls, don't bother with my texts, and now you think you can just show up out of the blue?" You huffed, your indignation evident.

"I know, I'm sorry," he admitted.

"Sorry?" You questioned incredulously. "This has been the most excruciating month of my life, and you were nowhere to be found!" A tear welled up in your eye, and you sniffled. "I needed you," you admitted weakly, your vulnerability surfacing in the midst of your anger.

He stepped closer, his hand gently resting on your waist. "I'm here now," he whispered, his voice filled with genuine remorse. With a tender gesture, he pulled you into his chest, enfolding you in the warmth of his embrace as his arms wrapped around your weeping form.

You had the impulse to resist, to push him away, but the exhaustion of the past month had drained you of all resistance. Instead, you surrendered to the solace of his arms, seeking the comfort that had been absent ever since you'd received the devastating news about your brother.

The room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the occasional sniffle or a quiet sob that escaped your lips. Simon held you tightly, understanding that words couldn't mend the pain, but his presence might provide some respite.

As time passed, you both remained locked in that intimate embrace, sharing the weight of your grief. The world outside seemed to fade away, and in that moment, it was just the two of you, united by loss and the fragile bonds of friendship.

Eventually, you pulled away, wiping away your tears with the back of your hand. "It's cold, come in. I was making tea." You offered, feeling calmer than you had all month now that Simon was here.

You led Simon into your cozy living room, the scent of tea already permeating the air. The familiar surroundings of your home offered a sense of security, and you found yourself beginning to relax, the tension in your shoulders easing.

As you settled onto the couch, you couldn't help but think about the history between you and Simon. He had always possessed a calming presence, a quality you had sensed from the first time your brother had brought him home, introducing him to your family as his best friend.

Since that day, Simon had become a constant presence in your life. You struggled to remember a time when he wasn't there, a reliable and steady companion through the ups and downs of life. His absence during this difficult month had been a stark departure from the norm, but you were determined to cherish the connection that had endured for so long.

Simon nodded appreciatively as you handed him a steaming cup of tea. "Thank you," he said softly, his eyes reflecting the depth of his regret.

______

Simon stayed around after that, choosing to sleep on your couch instead of returning to base. You didn't protest; in fact, you found comfort in his presence.

The days were a mix of tension and familiarity, with the occasional awkward moments, especially when you couldn't help but recall how Simon had left you when you needed him most. However, there were also moments of ease and comfort.

Growing up, you, Simon, and your brother had practically been inseparable, spending weeks, if not months, together in your house. So, in some ways, this situation wasn't entirely new.

As time passed, the two of you settled into a natural routine. Simon would depart during the days, his destinations often a mystery, while you worked from home, only venturing into the office when absolutely necessary.

This morning, like many others, Simon had already left before you had even gotten up. It was a pattern you had grown accustomed to; he usually went to bed later and rose earlier.

While preparing a cup of tea, your gaze happened upon the calendar magnetically adhered to your fridge. Today's date stood out, encircled and embellished with doodles, marking your brother's birthday. You hadn't forgotten what today was; in fact, you preferred not to dwell on it. The weight of his absence had made every reminder a poignant stab at your heart.

You found your gaze fixated on the calendar for longer than you'd like to admit, your thoughts mired in a swirl of emotions. Finally, you abandoned the idea of making tea, pouring out the water, and instead retrieved a twelve-pack of beer and a bottle of vodka from the fridge.

Slamming the fridge door shut, you felt a surge of frustration as that date continued to taunt you from the calendar. Placing the bottle of vodka on the counter, you decided to take matters into your own hands. You yanked the calendar off the fridge, crumpled it up, and forcefully deposited it into the trash can, as if by doing so, you could erase the painful reminder of the day.

With your work computer carelessly stashed into your bag, you abandoned the day's responsibilities. Instead, you reached for the TV remote, its familiar weight comforting in your hand. You powered on your favorite show, seeking refuge in its distraction.

Taking a deep breath, you grabbed the bottle of vodka, uncorking it with a swift motion. Without hesitation, you lifted it to your lips, taking a shot. The fiery liquid burned its way down your throat, and you welcomed the sensation, hoping that the alcohol would soon numb your senses to the point where you wouldn't remember the day of the week, let alone the painful date etched in your memory.

______

The sun had begun its descent on the horizon when Simon finally returned home. He anticipated finding you either at the table diligently working on your tasks or perhaps sitting on the couch, engrossed in a show or book. However, the sight that greeted him sent a pang of sorrow through his heart.

There you were, sprawled out on the couch, your form limp and vulnerable. Empty beer bottles lay scattered on the floor around you, and a half-empty bottle of vodka sat ominously on the coffee table, a stark testament to the attempt to drown out the pain that had overwhelmed you.

Simon let out a heavy sigh, the weight of the situation pressing upon him as he dropped his bag on the floor. With a sense of determination, he made his way over to you, gently picking up the empty bottles and disposing of them in the kitchen trash. The half-empty bottle of vodka found a new home in a cabinet that he hadn't seen you use before.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice filled with both worry and understanding. "Let's get you to bed."

With gentle strength, he carefully lifted you from the couch and carried you to your bedroom. There, he assisted you in changing out of the alcohol-scented clothes and into a clean t-shirt and a pair of comfortable shorts, maneuvering your body with utmost care. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, his actions were marked by a deep sense of compassion and an unwavering commitment to helping you through this difficult time.

He tucked you snugly into bed, making sure you were comfortable before reaching for the cord on the lamp. Just as the room dimmed, your hand reached out and gently grasped his wrist. Your voice was groggy as you asked, "Can you stay with me tonight?"

"Of course," he answered without hesitation. He got into bed beside you, providing the reassuring presence you so desperately needed.

You wasted no time, curling up in his side and laying your head on his chest. His arm circled around you, keeping you securely tucked into his side.

You lay there in silence, desperately attempting to coax yourself into slumber, yet sleep remained elusive. Your mind had become a battlefield ever since Simon had unexpectedly appeared at your doorstep, relentlessly tormenting you with a single, haunting question.

No matter how hard you tried to move past what Simon had done, it proved to be an impossible task without an explanation. His abrupt disappearance from your life continue to baffle you, leaving a gaping void that couldn't be filled. In the quiet of the night, you summoned the courage to confront him, unsure if he was already asleep.

"Simon?" you whispered hestantly.

"Hmm?" came his drowsy response.

Taking a few deep breaths to steady your nerves, you pressed on. Asking the question that had relentlessly gnawed at your thoughts ever since Simon had taken refuge in your home. "Why didn't you come to the funeral?" Your voice was barely louder than a mouse's, laced with uncertainty

"I was working," Simon repeated, but you weren't convinced. you knew him too well. His voice had that ever-so-slight elevation that only someone intimately familiar with him could detect.

You leaned in closer, your eyes narrowing in the dim light of the room. "Simon, we've been through too much together for me not to know when you're lying. What's the real reason you didn't come? Why didn't any of the task force come?" Your words carried a mixture of frustration and hurt, a reflection of the years of friendship that seemed to be unraveling before your eyes.

Simon let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair in a gesture of frustration. His reluctance to meet your gaze was evident as he finally confessed, "I was investigating your brother."

Startled, you sat up abruptly, putting some distance between yourself and Simon. "Investigating my brother?" your voice trembled with a mix of confusion and concern. "Why? Did he do something wrong?" The thought of your brother being involved in something illicit or dangerous sent a shiver down your spine.

The weight of Simon's revelation hung heavily in the air, and tears welled up in your eyes as you absorbed the shocking news. Your brother had dedicated himself to the military, pouring his heart and soul into his service. The idea of him being labeled as a "dirty officer" by the very institution he had sacrificed so much for was a painful blow.

Reluctantly, you found the strength to voice the question that you dreaded to ask. "Do you think he's dirty?"

Simon's silence spoke volumes, confirming your worst fears without a single word. The truth lay heavy between you, a bridge burned and a bond strained by the shadows of doubt.

With a heavy heart and a mind clouded by a whirlwind of emotions, you rose from the bed, determined to put some distance between yourself and Simon. The betrayal and uncertainty weighed on you, and you needed space to process it all.

As Simon made a move to approach you, you whispered, "Get out of my house," your voice barely audible in its initial plea. When he remained rooted in place, his expression confused and lost, you steeled yourself and repeated the command with a firmer resolve. "Get out of my house, Simon," you gritted through your teeth, your eyes reflecting the pain and anger that simmered beneath the surface.

His voice, pleading and full of desperation, called your name, "Please, we can talk about this." But you remained unmoved, consumed by a potent cocktail of hurt and betrayal. How could Simon, the one person who knew your brother as well as you did, lack faith in his innocence? Your brother was a beacon of integrity, and you couldn't fathom that he would ever betray his country.

Simon continued, his words slipping into your thoughts like a venomous serpent. "All the evidence-" It was as if a red mist descended upon you, a sudden surge of anger and frustration. In a fit of overwhelming emotion, you grabbed the nearest object, a lamp on your nightstand, and hurled it towards Simon. He reacted with lightning reflexes, narrowly avoiding the projectile, which shattered against the wall where he had been standing just moments before.

"The evidence doesn't matter!" you yelled, your voice filled with raw emotion. "He's innocent, and you know it! Stop lying to yourself!" No amount of evidence could sway your unwavering belief in your brother's goodness. It pained you deeply to see how easily Simon had been influenced, how easily the whole task force had been swayed, by what they had seen or heard, casting doubt on the man you knew your brother to be.

Simon, concerned for your well-being, moved closer and gently restrained your flailing arms, preventing any further outbursts that could lead to harm. "Listen," he implored, his voice earnest, "I'm trying to prove his innocence. It's just that everything I uncover makes him look worse. I can't keep going down this path and risk further damage to his reputation."

"Sounds like it's already been ruined," you retorted bitterly, your gaze filled with a mixture of frustration and contempt as you looked at Simon. The weight of your brother's tarnished reputation hung heavily in the air, a painful reminder of the chasm that had grown between you and the person who had once been one of your closest confidants.

Simon gazed at you with a mix of determination and remorse in his eyes. He nodded solemnly, understanding the depth of your pain and the importance of the task ahead. "I'll do everything in my power to clear his name," he vowed.

With a heavy heart, you replied, "Keep looking. Don't come back until you clear his name. I don't want someone in my house that doesn't believe in him."

Simon nodded once more, silently accepting your terms. He turned and left your room, his resolve renewed to uncover the truth and restore the faith you once had in him.

#simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #Simon ghost Riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod #modern warfare ii #modern warfare fanfiction #soap cod #john mctavish #captain price #gaz mw2 #john price #kyle gaz garrick #koing

[figureinthedistance]

Another angle on the interaction between exploitation + abuse of non human animals & the patriarchy. Found an article from 2006 abt the trend of women who are being abused by their male partners also reporting harm being done to their pets, + the secondary issue of not being able to access supports bc individuals within services do not take the concerns abt the pets seriously + bc the services themselves are not designed to afford any protection to non human animals. Women literally saying they would have left if they had been able find a place to safely house a dog or a cat but they couldnt. I hadnt heard of this before

#Intimate partner violence cw 3743 #Animal abuse cw 2933

[love-toxin]

don't leave me be, be with me - yandere fruity four

plot: regardless of how much you love your partners, their love for you grows stifling now and again. and the best way to remedy that is to be a little rebellious, which is what leads you to sneak out with Robin and go for a little joyride and on a quest for breakfast in the middle of the night.

cws: gn!angelface, yandere fruity four, st 4 spoilers, polycule, post s4, eddie lives arc, PTSD-related coping mechanisms (alcohol abuse, isolation, reckless behavior), drinking, robin and angelface are drunk, drunk driving, scars, hurt/comfort, implied sexual dynamics, softcore, very mild jealousy, mentions of violence, fluff.

word count: 3.6k

spice level: 0.5/5

"Where the fuck are they?"

Steve's pacing again, shoes heavy on the carpet as he tries not to lose his temper. There's music blasting in Eddie's room, but the door is shut, and Nancy doesn't even want to try and knock right now. She doesn't have any answers for him, and it would just stress him out more. While it's been months since he's gotten out of the hospital, he's still healing in…other ways.

"I don't know, Steve."

"Yeah, well, they have to be somewhere, Nancy! They can't just disappear, not unless-"

"Steve, don't go there. They took the van, they're probably off getting ice cream or something–you know how those two are. The only danger they're in is Robin driving without a license." Nancy bites her lip. She doesn't know if that's the truth, she just wants it to be.

"Oh, God, what if they got into an accident?" But Steve's practically inconsolable–he always gets like this, his brain is hardwired to sense danger even when there is none. Probably. But there's a chance, so he's sniffed it out and won't stop fussing until he has you in his arms again, she's sure.

"Steve-" That look on his face is definitely not a good one, that sudden realization that means he can't stay still any longer–even though he hasn't been, it's shocking that there isn't an indent in the floor from where he's been pacing back and forth for the last hour. He marches over to the couch and grabs his jacket, throwing it on one arm at a time as he slides past Nancy and heads towards the front door. "Where in the world are you going?"

"Gonna drive around town and look for the van." Typical. His solutions are largely straight to the point, if not a little over the top. The second she opens her mouth for a rebuttal, he holds up a hand to stop her. "I'm going, Nance! Don't try to stop me."

She knows how stubborn he is, it's a good if not occasionally frustrating quality. And in all honesty, he has every right to be as fretful as he is.

All four of them nearly didn't survive the horrors that Vecna brought to Hawkins, but Steve and Eddie definitely experienced a new level of physical torment that she knows she won't ever fully be able to sympathize with. You're the only one Steve's ever really told the full story to, the one he's cried to and held so close for fear that if he didn't, you'd be taken away yourself. They've all seen each other's scars, but you've taken care of each and every one of them–you know them intimately, know the pain and the story and the way they've healed but never gone away, and never will. You're what Eddie calls their "cleric", but he always refers to you as an angel. And you are one.

Speaking of Eddie, he hasn't been the same either. None of them have, but he's different–quieter. The hospital seemed to numb him after the demobat attack, barely alive and clinging to life for so long that even Nancy didn't believe he would really make it. But you did, you never gave up on him, and eventually he opened his eyes and smiled that sweet smile at the sight of you, and she'll never forget the wails you let out as you hugged him so tight the nurse tried to pry you off–the memory usually brings a smile to her face. Steve got kicked out of the visiting room for a week after locking her out of the room, just so the four of you could hold Eddie as long as you wanted and kiss him, stroke his hair, tell him you love him…they were hard days, but good ones. But now everyone is just trying to survive normal life, and that's mostly to your credit. You make life just a little more bearable…and when you're gone, like you have been for the last couple hours, they're all on edge.

Nancy hurries after him out the door to the trailer, knowing good and well that she can't let him run off on a rescue mission by himself. He's too reckless with himself and too tunnel visioned when it comes to you, and it's certain not to turn out well if he really freaks out without someone there to calm him down. And that's when the familiar sound of crunching gravel hits her ears and she stops to watch the sight before her, Steve having only gotten to the bottom step before he freezes too.

That familiar van pulls up slowly, slow like the driver is trying not to draw attention, and comes to a stop just about a foot off of the mark that carves out the driveway from the rest of the grass. The pause between the vehicle stopping and the passengers getting out is suspiciously long, but when the doors crack open and the two of them get a glance at you, they're sure they know why.

"Naaaaaancy!" You giggle, your footsteps so wobbly as you move around the hood that you have to use it for support, while Robin hops out from the driver's seat and throws it closed before stumbling towards you. The two of you have to cling to each other, your hands clutching Robin's arm, to even hope to make it up the driveway and towards the front door–and when you get close enough, Nancy's nose crinkles as the smell of liquor wafts over and hits her like a train. So does the realization–you two have been drinking, and drinking hard.

"Can I have a kiss, Nancy?" You cackle, tripping over your own feet and nearly hitting the ground, if not for Robin's surge of strength as she pulls you back up with a goofy smirk on her lips. One glance at Steve, and she can see it clearly–he is absolutely pissed, his scowl mean enough to burn a hole through concrete.

"Where the hell were you two?!" He didn't mean to yell, Nancy knows that, but you two don't even flinch. You're not even all there, too caught up in your own world and in each other's mouths as you capture Robin in a kiss instead.

"Pancakes! Errrr, and other stuff.." You giggle around a mouthful of Robin's tongue, your playful wink just earning you a furious huff from your big, strong protector.

"Oh nooooooo, I think we're in trouble!" The two of you can't contain your laughter as you break off and nuzzle against each other, Robin's arm clutched in your soft hands as she whisper-yells that into your ear. She even cups her hand to make it seem like she's trying to be subtle, and she probably is, she just doesn't realize how loud she's being and how late it is.

"You're drunk." Steve states bluntly. It's not a first for Robin since the Vecna incident, unfortunately, but it's surprising for you.

"Just a liiiiiittle," Robin pouts, her fingers pinched together to show just how 'little' you and her have been drinking. From the smell of you two alone, it has to have been at least a full bottle of straight liquor between you two, maybe more.

"Don't get mad, Stevie! We were havin' fun."

"You were being stupid. You were driving drunk! Without a license!" He's almost vibrating with anger and frustration. Robin's blasé tone pisses him off on a good day, and after putting your life and hers in danger, it does even more so.

"Bite. Me!" You share an even more girlish laugh at Robin's outburst, each word punctuated by a middle finger, like it's the funniest thing in the whole world. "You guys suck ass, you're suffocating us–you guys hate fun!"

Nancy would probably be grabbing Robin's tongue for that foul comment, but she's so out of it she knows that there's no use. She'd probably just laugh it off, or cry, and she doesn't want either of those two extremes to deal with right now. But there is something she has up her sleeve that always works.

"You two made Eddie very upset, you know." Nancy lays her hand on Steve's shoulder as she speaks, silently relaying to him that she's got it under control. A soft "Eddie?" passes your lips. It's incredible how quickly you both snap to attention when she mentions his name, sharing a look between you two before both turning back to listen intently.

"Mhm. He's been up all night worrying about you two. He doesn't like it when you're gone, it makes him scared. You know that." Her voice is stern, but still gentle enough for you two to take in. The 'mom voice' as you, Robin, and Eddie like to call it, which is largely reserved for when she really needs to get firm with one of you. Or all of you.

"Eddie? Where's Eddie?" Your tone wavers, giddiness turning to concern in a matter of syllables.

"Tell us, Nance!" Robin tugs at her sleeve, eyes big and wide with worry.

"He's in his room." Both of you rush past them, hurrying up the steps in a frantic bid to find your beloved boyfriend. You love them all equally, of course–but Eddie is sensitive. Sweet. He's always been that way, but it's increased tenfold since Vecna and caused you to be even more protective over him than you were before. You just want to protect that precious smile no matter what.

"Eddie! We're home, baby!"

It's when you both stumble through the front door that you see him at once. Frazzled, his curly hair mussed, dark circles under his eyes from worry. His nails are bitten down almost completely, bad habit he struggles to kick when he's anxious. He's standing in the living room like he heard the ruckus and had come to see what was happening, but his eyes are clear and set on one of you at a time, switching between like he's assessing that you're both here and both safe.

The two of you rush forward and knock him right off his feet, a startled shriek pulled from his lips followed by a grunt as his back thuds against the carpet, and the two of you collapse on top of him with your full respective weight in a hug so tight he couldn't squirm away if he tried. Even being taken off guard, Eddie squeezes both of you tight in a hug as best he can, a relieved smile flickering across his face as you press desperate kisses to his cheek.

Nancy and Steve step inside, and the sight at their feet just raises a sigh. They might not be happy, but they are glad you're unharmed and in relatively good spirits.

"We're sooooorry, Eddie! Soooo sorry!" You babble, pawing at his neck and his face to plant even more kisses on his lips. He turns only to ruffle Robin's hair and peck her on the forehead, but otherwise his mouth is occupied by yours, and gladly so, if his muffled little gasps and mumbles of "missed you" are any indication.

"What about us? You have an apology for scaring the crap out of us?" Steve asks, irritation still lacing his voice. Part of it is definitely a spark of jealousy, Nancy can tell better than most. It takes you some work and the aid of Eddie's hand, but you get up and stumble over wobbly feet, and throw one arm around Nancy's shoulder and one around Steve's to loosely hug them both.

"M' sorry, Nancy…sorry Stevie….I love you guys soooooooo much.." You maw on each of their cheeks as well, leaving wet kisses by their ears and down their necks as if each one is to make up for one of the many minutes you spent away from them.

"We love you too." Nancy squeezes you back, eyes screwed shut, a breath caught in her lungs as she tries to keep it all in, to keep it together. Breaking down and crying because she was so worried about you would only hurt you.

"I've been bad…"

"Yeah, you have been bad." Steve's hand is in your hair, and despite reaffirming your realization, he's still so gentle with you like you're made of porcelain. As frustrating as he can be, and as much of a dad as he acts like sometimes, he's still so softhearted when it comes to you that it's honestly comical.

"Sooooooo….you gonna punish me?" You pull away to look at both of their faces, and giggle when their eyes widen, and they share a look like they can't believe what you just said. They haven't really seen you drunk very often, so they're not used to the…mood you sometimes get in.

"Not now, baby. But you are gonna make it up to us, later." Nancy tenderly takes your arm off of her and rubs it, trying to be strict but it just comes out soft.

"Aww, Nancy…" Your eyes draw towards Steve, who still has some frustration lingering on his features. He'll never realize how sexy it is–how sexy he is when he's mad. You slide that free arm around his other shoulder, and lean into him for your lips to just barely brush his.

"C'mon, Stevie, wanna feel you inside me…" His shoulders stiffen up and his chest tightens, his lungs at a standstill at the sight of you rubbing your body up against his. And then you lean up, and your lips ghost over his ear, and you whisper that dreaded pet name that sends a shiver up his spine and has him tilting his head up that he wasn't ready for–not in front of the others, at least. "..Wanna be good for you. Promise."

Your little attempt to get him all worked up, and your teeth nibbling at his adam's apple, is interrupted by a soft groan, one that turns all three of your heads towards the two lumps on the floor. When Eddie sits up, he moves to clutch Robin's limp body as she lays against him, who is very clearly asleep and sighing quietly into his neck at the movement.

"Okay, bedtime! C'mon!" With a face still flushed and hot, Steve hups and squats down to wrap his arms around your thighs, before he lifts you up to throw you over his shoulder and starts walking towards Eddie's room. Every step is another bounce and your grin is still loopy and enthused as he does so, while Eddie hauls Robin up to her feet and Nancy supports her by her other arm to lead her the same way. Thankfully it's a short ride, and when Steve flips you back on to the bed and kneels to take your shoes off for you, Robin hangs off your other friends before collapsing into bed beside you. She's so pretty with that red flush to her face, warm and dizzy from the alcohol and laid out on her back, her breasts heaving as she breathes quietly before opening her eyes and turning them towards you.

Once Steve's hands are occupied with carrying off your shoes and no longer ghosting against your ankle, you find yourself moving up on your knees and throwing one over Robin's waist, her fingers lifting up to brace your thigh as you sit gently enough on top of her for it not to hurt. The words have left her vocabulary, but the pleased sigh that she emits at the feeling of you pressed up against her is enough for you to understand.

"Robbie," You lean down to kiss her, and moan the nickname into her mouth. "Wanna do what we did in the backseat…"

"Uh huh…" She whimpers, hands laid out by her head in total submission. Her hips are already rolling against you, mind clearly muddled by need that you apparently haven't satisfied quite yet. Your hands move to unbutton her jeans, your gaze set and tongue flicking out to lick your lips–when Steve grabs you by the wrist and your head tilts to look up at him.

"Prude," You stick your tongue out at him, annoyed at his familiar interruption. Robin wasn't totally wrong, sometimes Steve is such a stick in the mud. He looks genuinely hurt, though, and his eyes fall from yours like he's trying not to show you what he's really feeling.

"Noooo, not the puppy dog eyes…m' sorry for pissin' you off, baby.." His grip loosens on your wrist, but you just grab his instead to pull him close enough for your foreheads to touch. He can't look away now, not even if he wanted to.

"I wasn't really mad, I..I was just…scared." His voice is so rarely this shaky, unsure, that it almost doesn't sound like Steve. Not your confident, headstrong Steve.

"Why?" You smile so innocently, it's nigh impossible to still be mad at you. He knows that, and yet he can never, ever resist it. "I'll always come back, Stevie. Not going anywhere."

A tired smile tweaks at his lips, and he moves to turn away–but you don't let him, and you grab his face to hold it in place.

"I'm not going anywhere, Steve." You sound more sober in that one breath than you have since you got home. More than you ever have, maybe. And he has nothing he can say that can encompass his feelings in that moment, so he just simply nods, and shares a kiss with you that's so damn sweet even with the taste of liquor on your teeth.

Having been relatively quiet until now, Eddie crawls into bed beside you two, his sneakers kicked off but his clothes from the day still on. Nancy's busying herself with pulling up a blanket off the floor to throw over you three, nudging your arm for you to slide off of Robin and cuddle up between the two of them so she can do so. Eddie's breath hitches when your fingertips brush the scars beneath his shirt, the flesh of his belly torn up and only now having healed into what he thinks are ugly scars.

"Eddie's so pretty…" You mumble as you turn to face him, already nodding off with the warmth of both their bodies cushioning you like big, heated pillows. Robin snuggles up to your back and drapes her arm over your waist, and Eddie wedges his arm beneath you two so you can both use it as a pillow, his fingers laced in Robin's hair to help her fall asleep like it always does.

"You're prettier, angelface." His warm breath on your face draws a chuckle from you, and with your eyes closed he kisses your brow before finally settling in to drift off with you. And when Nancy's finished tucking you all in and Steve shuts off the lights, each of you sharing your "I love you"s and "good night"s, the two of them shut the door quietly behind them to leave the three of you in relative peace as you slumber.

It feels like the day has dragged on so long, and in some sense it has–the time is nearing three am if the clock in the hallway is any indication. She and Steve have been awake for far too long, but it doesn't look like he's in any mood to rest by the expression on his face.

"You think we were a little too-"

"Harsh? No." Steve cuts her off abruptly. He knows exactly what she's thinking, he usually does–but this time, for once, Nancy really has no clue what's running through his mind.

"I'm gonna make them regret that tomorrow. I'll slash the tires on that stupid van if it keeps them here." The sudden surge of emotion in his voice takes her by surprise. Almost always, your touch and a few gentle words in that beautiful voice of yours are enough to calm him from whatever is bothering him. He's infamous for falling for your reassurances, giving in to you so often that it's like you're a siren to him, his certainty so often falling to the wayside when you sway him into believing whatever it is you're telling him.

"They might just steal your car, Steve. You know Eddie's got those magic fingers." She waggles her fingers teasingly, she's trying to lighten the mood, and he does chuckle a little at the joke. But the way his face sets immediately after is…intense.

"Not if I break their legs first."

"Steve," Her hand reaches for his arm, but his eyes and his mind are somewhere else.

"Don't." He warns. There's not enough conviction in his voice for her to really be worried about that–at least not now, when not enough has happened for him to really think that's at all a good plan. You haven't scared him enough, but…it does frighten her to think that it's still a possibility, albeit a very small one. Even though it would work, she hates to see you in pain, to see you scared. "Wasn't even my idea. Eddie talks in his sleep."

He steps away with those words lingering on his lips, heading towards the front door to drop your shoes by the others–but not before he reaches over and grabs the bat he's kept since that first night he realized that the world wasn't as safe as he thought it was. He throws the door open, and leans back to call to her before he takes a seat on the step and waits to see if anyone–or anything–followed you two home. Like always.

"...So do you, Nance."

#yandere steve harrington #yandere nancy wheeler #yandere eddie munson #yandere robin buckley #yandere fruity four #fruity four x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #nancy wheeler x reader #robin buckley x reader #st 4 #stranger things spoilers #ellie writes #3k