#fingers crossed I don’t hate everything while editing it

[eureka-its-zico]

Whelp. I’ve finally finished writing chapter 8.

It’s currently sitting at 29.6k words.

I’m going to get some rest and when I wake up I’ll edit it. Will either be posted later today or tomorrow morning by 9 am.

#jenn speaks #Chaos in Their Bones #fingers crossed I don’t hate everything while editing it #opla

[lincolndjarin]

constructive criticisms

main masterlist ✧ kinktober masterlist ✦

kinktober : day two - afab!ficauthor!reader x javier peña

prompt : virginity loss [ 18+ mdni ]

word count : 5.1 k

summary : javier peña has been a thorn in your side for months, the last thing you need is for him to find out you write dirty fanfiction

warnings, etc. : language, fluff, smut, protected sex, p in v sex, oral m!recieving, fingering, mutual masturbation, viginity loss (duh), innocence kink sorta, squirting, reader is completely clueless when it comes to sex, javier is a dumb sweetheart in this, plot w a little porn lol

a/n : yippee! this is an idea ive had floating around for a bit and this seemed like a good opportunity to do it! easily the longest of the kinktober stuff lmao which is why i didnt want this to be day one cause i didnt want to set a precedent haha. also i hate this but it's october so like i can't do much about that lmao. AND the edit was rushed bc i gotta get to work so apologies for any errors!!

  “What’s that?” You slam your laptop shut the moment you hear his voice. 

“Nothing.” You hadn’t heard him come into your office yet here he is, looming over your shoulder. 

“Didn’t look like nothing.” You can’t stand the mocking smile on his face. 

“Did you need something?” You do your best to sound patient. 

“I’ve got some suspect photos I need you to identify.” He’s still grinning from ear to ear as you hold your hand out for the file. You flip through the pictures before tossing them onto the pile of paperwork you’ve been trudging through. You’re waiting for him to leave but he just stays in place behind you until you spin around in your chair. 

“Is there something else?” You cross your arms in front of your chest, glowering at him. 

“What were you working on?” For god's sake, drop it. 

“Get out of my office Peña, or I won’t process your suspects.” Thankfully that gets him to leave, sighing as he closes the door behind him. Once you’re sure he’s not coming back you open your laptop again, quickly closing out your tabs. 

The last thing you need is for Javier fucking Peña to read your Star Wars fanfiction. 

He makes your life hell around the office enough as is. He makes fun of how you dress, he only ever asks you to file his paperwork, (despite the dozen others who are just as capable.) and you’re pretty sure he stole your lunch one time. He’s just in general a nuisance. (And it doesn’t help that he’s gorgeous and knows it.)

It’s not like you’re ashamed of your writing, you’ve mentioned it in passing to some of your friends around the office but Javier is different. He gives you enough grief without knowing how badly you wanna fuck Anakin Skywalker, you can’t imagine how much worse thing would get if he found you’re writing. 

So you get back to work, trying to forget the interaction entirely. 

You like to work late on fridays, it makes things easier, you don’t have to come in early on monday and no ones around to bother you while you work. You’re just about done with everything as you gather up all the finished documents, going from empty office to empty office as you leave the respective papers on each person's desk. 

You’re nearly done, you’ve just got Javier’s suspect list to deal with as you step into the bullpen to deliver it you’re surprised to see him still sitting at his desk, everyone else is gone, only his desk lamp and computer monitor light the large room. You approach quietly, wanting to get this done as quickly as possible so you can just go home. You’re about to clear your throat to get his attention when you freeze in place. 

You recognize the website he’s on. 

You’d know that red bar anywhere. 

There’s no fucking way. 

You feel your face getting flushed, a deep shame settling in your stomach as you take another step forward just to be sure.

Archive of Our Own beta

And just below that, the name of your favorite song, but more importantly, the title of your fanfiction. 

You’re so fucked. 

You feel a mess of angry tears starting to pool in your eyes as you hear him groan. 

That somehow hurts worse. 

Not only is he reading it, but he also thinks it’s so bad he’s audibly expressing it. You’re livid, and humiliated, you should spend this weekend looking for a new job because he’s about to become insufferable. Knowing him, everyone will know about it before you even get in on monday.

In your rage you walk forward noisily, tossing his files down onto his desk, turning, planning on glaring at him once before leaving, hoping he doesn’t see how truly upset you are. 

Nothing could have prepared you for what you’re met with. You’re expecting a smirk or maybe even a look of disgust, instead he’s gritting his teeth, his hair sticking to his forehead, a visible sheen of sweat on his face and most prominently, his hand haphazardly shoved down the front of his pants. 

You both realize the predicament you’re caught in at the same time. You stare way too long. Eyes lingering on the exposed skin where his shirt rides up, a trail of hair running down his naval. Neither one of you moves until you finally snap out of it, squeezing your eyes shut and turning on your heel, walking as quickly as possible towards the exit when you hear the squeak of his chair on the floor as he calls out your name. You don’t dare turn around though, not slowing your pace until you’re out of the building and in your car. 

Thankfully he doesn’t pursue you further as you drive home as quickly as possible. Hands tightly gripping the wheel the entire time. You can see your phone blowing up in your bag, the inside dimly lit the entire length of the drive. When you pull into your apartment building’s parking lot. You grab your bag and hurry inside, desperate to just go to bed and forget everything that just happened, ignoring the throbbing between your legs from what you just witnessed. 

You step inside your studio, locking up behind you as you toss your bag onto the bed, shedding your clothes and stepping into the bathroom, praying that a cold shower will clear your head. 

It doesn’t. 

You feel just as hot and frazzled as you did before. Maybe he was just trying to mess with you. If that’s the case then now he’s just sexually harassing you. 

Stupid fucking Peña. 

You pull a tank top over your head and throw on a pair of panties before collapsing on your bed. You don’t want to look but you won’t be able to sleep if you don’t, so you reach into your bag, retrieving your phone. 

Just as suspected you have an endless amount of messages from the man himself. You're about to start scrolling through them all when you read the most recent one. 

[ I’m coming over. ] 

Son of a bitch. 

You quickly scroll through the previous messages. 

[ I’m sorry, are you okay? ]

[ Call me or I’m coming over. ]

[ Please just text me back. ]

[ I really liked your story. ]

[ I’m sorry. ]

There’s about a hundred similar messages but one stands out to you more than anything else. 

He liked your story. 

Why does that make your face burn up?

You start typing, telling him that he doesn’t want to find out what’s gonna happen if he shows up but you’re interrupted by a knock on your door. You trip over yourself as you rush to your dresser, pulling on a pair of sweatpants before peering through the peephole. 

Sure enough, there he stands, he looks exactly like you’d left him, shirt untucked and askew, hair a mess, except now his hand isn’t in his pants. You’re about to reach over and turn your lamp off when he clears his throat. 

“I know you’re in there, your car was out front.” Well, so much for pretending you aren’t home. You hesitantly unlock the door before pulling it open, plastering a scowl on your face. 

“What do you want?” You try to look stern but you know you probably just look nervous. 

“I just wanna talk.”

You’re hesitant but you open the door fully, letting him in as you return to your bed, sitting and pointing at the loveseat in the corner for him. Neither one of you speaks, you watch as his throat bobs, he won’t look at you, staring at his hands instead. 

“How did you get my address?” You finally break the silence. 

“Your file.” He says sheepishly. 

“You can’t do that! That’s an invasion of my privacy!”

“That’s what you wanna be mad about?” Fair enough. 

“Fine, why did you do it?” You don’t like that he’s here, in your tiny apartment, the memory of him splayed out in his chair takes up all the space.

“Which part?” He finally looks up at you, meeting your gaze. 

“Why did you read it?” 

“I was curious.” He looks truly apologetic, it almost makes you want to believe him.

“Really?” Your tone drips with sarcasm. 

“You seemed really defensive, I wanted to see why.” It seems genuine but you know better. 

“You wanted to embarrass me.” You say plainly. 

“Why do you act like I’m out to get you?” His brows furrow and his mouth settles into a frown. 

“Because you are.” You say it matter of factly, you honestly can’t believe he’s acting like he doesn’t know. 

“I don’t understand what I did that makes you hate me so much.” You’re tempted to soften your gaze, but the last thing you need to do if this is all just some trick is appear vulnerable. 

“You can’t be serious.”

“Please, enlighten me.” He throws his hands up in exasperation. 

“You despise me! You torment me every single day!”

“Really? I torment you?” He points an accusatory finger in your direction. 

“You make me do your paperwork every single time, even when there are plenty of other people who are capable of it.” You feel the urge to stand and have this argument, you’re getting heated in several ways now. 

“You do it better than everyone else.” He shrugs like it’s a valid excuse. 

“Bullshit.” You snark as he puts his head in his hands.

“And I like the excuse to see you.” He mumbles before looking back up at him.

“You make fun of how I dress.” You’re quick to change the subject, not wanting to fall victim to his charms. 

“I do not.” His voice pitches up defensively. 

“You said I dress like your grandma.”

“That was a compliment.” He can’t be serious.

“How the fuck is that a compliment?”

“I love my grandma very much.” He sounds serious. 

“You’re a nightmare.” You fall back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, your head swimming with confusion. 

“Have you ever considered that I just wanted to be around you? You assume that I just liked to bother you but maybe I just like being near you.” He stands as you sit up, a look of honest upset on his face. 

“You expect me to believe that you did those things because you like me? Are we in middle school, Peña? You could have just asked me out instead of pulling my pigtails on the playground.” You stand, not liking the power imbalance of having him towering over you where you sit. 

“I did, you said no.” He crosses his arms and you scoff. 

“You did not, you can’t just make things up to get out of this conversation.” You poke a finger into his chest but he just brushes it away. 

“I asked you out to lunch two weeks ago and you said no.”

“I think I would remember that if it happened.” His anger fizzles out a bit as he looks you up and down. 

“I may or may not have thrown your lunch out that day so you’d be more likely to accept.” He gives you a sheepish look. “But you were so mad you brushed it off.”

“That was a serious offer? I thought you were messing with me.” He just stares at you, wide puppy dog eyes you have to turn away from lest you fall for this act. You don’t get a moment's rest though because as you stare at the floor a particularly harrowing thought crosses your mind. 

“How much did you read?” You turn back to him quickly. 

“Enough.” When you turn back to him he’s staring at his hands again. 

You both know what that means. 

“It seemed a little familiar.” He says softly. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You want him out, now.

“Don’t play dumb, you know what I’m talking about.” You’re going to look at job listings once he goes home. 

“I think you should leave.” You clear your throat, nodding towards the door. 

“I’m not leaving until we talk about it.” 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You sit back down on your bed, your legs feeling unsteady. 

“Well I do.” He takes a few steps in your direction and you immediately regret sitting. 

“I don’t care what you want, get out of my apartment, now.” You head is tilted up completely as you glare at him.

“Do you really not realize exactly what is happening here?” You can feel his breath on your face, cigarettes and spearmint. You turn your head to the side, refusing to look at him. 

This is exactly what happens in your story. 

“You’re an idiot.” You whisper, willing yourself not to get any more upset than you already are. 

“You wrote your story about us.” He says each word sharply as you grit your teeth. 

“I did not.” Now who’s just making things up to get out of a conversation?

“Everything that I did to you, he does to her.”

You don’t have a response to that. What are you supposed to say? He’s right, straight down to the confrontation where he tells her he wants her and she tells him that can’t be possible. He hates her. 

He kneels in front of the bed, moving to be in your eye line and when you go to turn your head he grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. 

“I really did like your story.” You shove his hand away as he says it.

“Don’t mock me.” 

“Jesus, what do I have to do to make you realize I don’t have an ounce of contempt for you?” He stands, throwing his hands up in defeat.

You finally snap. 

“Maybe stop taking my shit and stop giving me extra work and stop invading my privacy and just fucking talk to me like an adult, you arrogant, immature, son of a-“ He grabs your face in both of his hands as he leans down and crashes his lips against yours, you let out a surprised squeak as he cups your jaw. After a moment he pulls back and you’re left staring at him dumbfounded. 

“Now, can we please talk about it?” He mumbles before pulling you in again for a single chaste kiss. 

“Okay.” You feel a little breathless at the abruptness of his actions. 

“I really liked it.” He smiles now, the energy in the room changing drastically. 

“You keep saying that.” You whisper.

“It’s true.”

“Wanna give me some constructive criticism?” You laugh but you can see his eyes flicker to the ceiling quickly and suddenly you want to press further. 

“You know you quoted me word for word a couple of times.” 

“You’re avoiding the question.” You laugh again but now you’re genuinely curious. 

“I guess I thought the sex scenes were the tiniest bit unrealistic.”

“Unrealistic?” You feign offense. 

“Well yeah I mean, it’s written like you’ve never had sex. They go at it all night and he never needs any breaks? And doesn’t she have like twenty orgasms? I’m pretty sure she’d be in terrible pain at that point.” He laughs softly but when you furrow your brows he stops. “I assumed because it’s fantasy that that’s intentional though.” He adds on quickly at the end. 

Your embarrassment is clear on your face as his own expression goes to one of poorly concealed surprise. 

“You’ve never-” He whispers, clearly shocked. 

“I’ve never.” You finish his sentence, not wanting to hear it out loud. 

“I mean, that’s fine.” His ears are burning red. 

“I know it’s fine.” You mumble. “I’ve had opportunities to, I just… I don’t know, I guess I made it too big of a deal in my mind and now I just don’t care but I’ve waited this long and-”

“Cariña, it’s fine.” He interrupts you now, that soft smile on his face never wavering. 

“Do you think my writing would be better if I had more experience?” You say it like it’s a joke but he sees right through you.  

“I’m not sure, how much experience do you have just in general?” He stands, moving to sit beside you on the bed. 

“Well I’ve kissed people before.”

“That’s it?” You glare at him and he coughs nervously. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course.”

“I’ve been busy with work, it's just, it’s never been a priority of mine.”

“You do know… how to do it? Right?” You smack him on the arm. 

“Of course I know how to do it, you read my stuff.”

“That’s why I’m asking.”

“Oh come on, you said it was good!” 

“It is good! Everything but the dirty stuff is really good!” You groan, putting your head in your hands, he sits quietly beside you for a bit, rubbing your back. 

“Do you want me to teach you?” He says lightheartedly. 

“Seriously?” You glare at him. 

“It’s the least I can do for unintentionally making your work life hell.” He’s starting to sound more genuine in his over, it sends a chill down your spine. 

“So what? We just… do it?” You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the idea of losing it to someone who knows what he’s doing. 

“No we don’t ‘just do it.’ we do other stuff first.” He sounds amused but you’re glad he doesn’t outright laugh at you. 

“Can you just- can you just tell me what to do?” You rest your head on his shoulder briefly and he runs his fingers through your hair. 

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes please.” You mumble, feeling a strange mix of aroused and nervous. 

“Well, in one of the later chapters she blows him, right?” You nod slowly. “And you say it’s her first time doing it, she probably shouldn’t have been able to just take all of him in her mouth right off the get go, especially since he’s apparently nine inches? Which is a whole separate issue by the way.” You can feel your face getting hot all over again as he explains everything like it’s obvious. “If you want to start there we can do that.” He murmurs, trying to meet your gaze but you just keep trying to look anywhere else. 

“How big is it supposed to be normally?” You chew on your lip, hoping you don’t sound stupid, you couldn’t be more thankful when he once again doesn’t laugh. 

“It depends, but nine inches is a bit outlandish. Have you ever actually looked at that on a ruler? It’s way bigger than you think.” He holds out the estimated size with his hands and you have to stifle a giggle. 

“Fair enough.” You lean against him one last time before sliding off the bed, kneeling in front of him. “So she’s like this.” You watch his throat bob as he swallows harshly, everything is starting to quickly become real as he nods. You reach your hands towards the noticeably larger bulge in his strict jeans, stopping just before you touch him. “Can I?” 

“Yeah, of course.” With his approval you gingerly unzip the restrictive fabric, watching his half hard dick spring free. He’s certainly not nine inches but he’s still intimidating. You don’t have a frame of reference but you have to assume he’s on the bigger side of things. 

“You don’t wear underwear?” You scoff, trying to lighten the mood despite the combined anxiety and arousal pulsing through you right now.

“Not usually.” He murmurs, notably softer than before. 

“What do I do first?” 

“If you want, you can start by touching it, just do what feels right.” He reaches down to hold your face for a moment until you’re able to calm down a bit. You reach forward at a snail's pace until finally wrapping a hand around the base, jumping a bit as you feel him twitch against your palm. You slowly stroke him, just once before looking up at him, a reassuring smile on his face as you stroke him a few more times, feeling him swell until he stands fully erect. Almost absentmindedly your other hand drifts between your legs, you experimentally grind against your own hand as you continue to leisurely jerk him off, watching how he grips the sheets when you run your thumb over his drooling tip. 

“What do I do next?” You look up at him. 

“Spit on it, hermosa.” His voice is raspy and you sit up on your knees, a line of spit falling from your mouth onto the head of his cock, drawing a hiss past his teeth. It’s easier to stroke him when it’s wet, you experiment with different speeds, watching his reactions until in a moment of bravery you tentatively guide him into your mouth. You can’t help but feel pleased when his hand instinctively flies to your hair, not moving you in any direction, just holding you. You swirl your tongue around the tip, tasting the bitter pre-cum as you open your jaw a bit wider, letting him slide over your tongue. As you take him deeper you feel him against your throat and you quickly gag, coughing a bit as he gently pulls you off. “Go slow, don’t take more than you’re able to.” You cough again, catching your breath before taking him in your mouth again, slower this time. “Use your hands on the rest.” He murmurs, the low tone shoots through you and you quickly go back to touching yourself with one hand while using the other to stroke the half of his length that you can’t fit in your mouth. 

After a few minutes you begin to moan against him as you try to reach your own peak, your hand now haphazardly shoved down the front of your pants. He’s leaning back, his pupils pitch black as he watches you, his breathing unsteady. 

“You think you’re ready for more?” He says sweetly, caressing your hair. You pop off of him, watching a line of spit going from the head of his cock to your lips. 

“Sure.” You feel less nervous than you thought you’d be as you stand up, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand. You feel all fuzzy and slick between your legs, your pussy aches with need as he takes your hand, pulling you onto the bed with him. You sit up against the headboard as he strips completely, discarding his shirt and shoving his pants all the way down. 

You can’t help but take in the sight of him as he turns back to you. 

His warm sun kissed skin, the wide expanse of his shoulders a sharp ratio to his slim waist. He’s toned but he’s soft around the edges and his cock stands proud against the thatch of hair on his lower abdomen. You tilt your head the way it curves, admiring it until he laughs. 

“I want you to do something for me that wasn’t in the story.” He climbs back into bed with you, playing with the waistband of your sweats. 

“Sure, what is it?” You lift your hips, letting him pull them down, tossing them off the bed. 

“I want you to show me how you touch yourself.” You stare at him, a little shocked by the request, your eyes going wide. 

“Why?” 

“I want to see, I want you to show me what feels good.” You want to feel more self conscious but he’s completely naked and something about the fact that you’re still a little covered up helps you relax, with a soft sigh you gingerly slip your hand down the front of your panties. You go off of muscle memory, recalling what you would do if he wasn’t here. 

Tracing your fingers in delicate circles around your clit, watching as he begins to touch himself, almost matching your pace. This would have been a fantasy of yours that you’d resort to when nothing else worked. Javier Peña in your bed, revealing some sort of secret attraction to you, you just never thought it would ever come to fruition. 

But here he is.

Ravaging you with his eyes as you dip two fingers into yourself with a shuddering breath, his own movements stuttering a bit as you do so. With everything leading up to this it isn’t hard to feel the familiar heat building as you expertly push yourself towards it. After a few moments more you shove your panties down completely, wanting to be unencumbered as you discard them. Without them restricting you, you can easily feel that hot tightening sensation approaching rapidly. Your breathing gets heavy as you grind your fingers against your palm, you feel the familiar fiery sensation in the bottom of your stomach as you start haphazardly fucking your own hand, you keep your eyes on the way he fucks his own until you’re just about to burst and he takes hold of your wrist, stopping you.

“Please I-” You let out a frustrated whine but he shushes you with a quick peck.

“I know, can I do it?” You nod frantically, you’d like nothing more. He gently pushes two fingers into you, you gasp in surprise at the sudden stretch as he slides them in and out slowly, continuing to jerk himself off with his other hand as he watches how you eagerly suck him in. 

It doesn’t take much from there. 

His thumb mirrors the motions you did against your clit and that’s all he has to do to push you over the edge. Your cunt spasming around his fingers as he works you through your orgasm, hot white burns the edges of your vision and you keep your eyes open long enough to watch as he squeezes the base of his own cock, groaning as he makes his own attempts not to finish. You're vaguely aware of him murmuring something that sounds like praise in Spanish as you get your bearings, he slowly removes his fingers, leaning forward on his knees to kiss you. You catch your breath through the kiss until finally he pulls back.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” His breathing heavy as he nudges his forehead against yours. 

“Is it gonna hurt?” You’re more curious than nervous at this point. 

“It shouldn’t, and if it does I’ll stop, okay?” He hops off the bed for a moment, searching through his wallet before tossing you a condom. 

“Okay.”

“And you’re sure this is what you want?” You carefully tear open the condom wrapper, handing him the rubber ring with a nod, watching how he aptly rolls it onto his cock. 

“Probably wouldn’t have come this far if I didn’t.” You slide down the bed a bit so you’re mostly laying on your pillows as he positions himself on top of you. He still seems worried about you so you reach forward, taking his cock in your hand and guiding him between your legs. 

You can’t help but sharply inhale as he eases just the tip into you, your eyes flutter shut and your mouth opens slightly as you sigh.  

God, you wish you’d done this sooner. 

It doesn’t hurt. You expected a stinging, or a tearing, instead it’s just pressure. When you open your eyes you find his squeezed shut now as he slowly works himself into you, rocking slowly back and forth. He keeps your foreheads pressed together, occasionally, bumping his nose against yours. 

“Still good?” He whispers, a noticeable strain to his voice. You nod, watching curiously as he pushes his hips forward in one last motion to fully seat himself in your heat. His jaw is tense and he’s breathing through his teeth. “So fucking tight.” He mumbles before leaning forward, groaning into your mouth. 

“Does it hurt?” You ask when he pulls himself away with a soft smile. 

“No, it just makes me worried about hurting you.”

“I’m okay, I want you to move.” You look down to where the two of you are joined. Watching how he gently pulls himself from you just a bit before pushing back in. That’s when he bumps against that spot inside of you that suddenly has you seeing stars, your hands grip his shoulders as a moan slips out of you, the grin you’ve seen a hundred times before forms on his face, you’d once hated it but now it has you gushing around him. 

“Does that feel good?” He tilts his head to the side, nudging his nose against your temple as you nod fervently. He repeats the motion, pulling out about halfway before snapping his hips forward again, your back arching when he slams into the sweet spot inside of you. 

“Fuck- Peña, right there.” You whine, your nails leaving little crescent indents in the tan flesh of his shoulders. He gets into a steady rhythm with it, crashing into you with precise deliberate strokes, designed to make your head spin. He grits his teeth once more, his breath going ragged.

“Javier.” He pants, gripping your waist to hold you still. For a brief moment you almost see vulnerability in his eyes. 

“Just like that, Javier.” You stammer out as he bends one of your legs up, pressing you into the mattress further as he throws your ankle over his shoulder, the new angle letting him fuck far deeper into you than you even thought possible. The soft and slow Javier starts to dissipate as he bares his teeth, his breath hot and heavy through his tense jaw as he slams into you. The second orgasm building in your stomach isn’t like anything you’ve ever felt before, it’s molten inside of you, threatening to burst as he brings a hand to your clit.

“Shit- tell me when you’re close.” He growls, your vision’s already blurring again as an unfamiliar pressure settles within you. 

“I- I am.” You pant out, he accentuates each thrust with a grunt and you feel yourself slip as he applies the slightest pressure to your sensitive bundle of nerves. You’re positive you’ve never come like this before, you soak his cock, a flood of your release pulses out of you as you strangle his cock. He collapses into you, your orgasm sending him over his own edge. You feel him throbbing within you as he groans into the pillow next to you. The two of you lay in a sweaty, breathless heap for a moment until he pulls out of you with a hiss, rolling over, his chest heaving as he lays beside you. 

“Now do you believe that I don’t hate you?” He gasps out. 

“I might need a little more convincing.” You grin, reaching behind you to turn your lamp off before rolling yourself over so you're on top of him.

a/n : I have a very serious love hate relationship w this.

#lincolndjarin #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier pena x you #javier peña / reader #javier pena smut

[cupcakeslushie]

You seem to draw Donnie covered in Spray paint (pink and blue) a lot. Why is that? What got him hooked to it and why doesnt he have to mix the colors himself?

(BIG fan of the angsty separated au!!!!)

Draxum’s lab is pretty dull color wise, and Three wanted to differentiate his tech from Draxum’s. Huginn and Muninn are the ones who buy Three his spray paints! One of those small, nice things they try to do to make the kid a little bit happy. Purple is Three’s favorite color, but sometimes they’re limited in what they can bring him. (Also the pink and blue colors are a nod to Jinx—It’s kinda funny that her colors, pink and blue, when mixed, make purple)

It would be maximum shock if they all met right when Leo and Donnie rejoined the family, before they kinda started their healing process, cause they’re probably the most different at that point.

Rise!Donnie would be appalled at AU!Donnie, from silly things like the way he accumulates layers of grime without a care—to the rude way he treats April. AU!Leo and Rise!Leo would keep a wide birth from each other and probably stick to a buddy system with their respective brothers just in the hopes that they don’t ever get left alone with the other (their bros of course conspire to do exactly that, so they can get to know each other)

Rise!Raph would probably be really worried about AU!Raph just cause he thought his brother’s make him stressed and tired? But between dealing with Leo’s anger issues, and Donnie’s…everything, AU!Raph looks ready to drop any second. AU!Mikey would love Rise!Mikey, cause he’s adorable, but he’s a little sad when he looks at him, cause he acts just like he used to, before he was thrown into the arena, so he tries to tone down the bad and make it sound more exciting so that Rise!Mikey doesn’t know how horrible AU!Mikey had it.

The Kraang would def be the Rise Kraang version. The movie would take place a little while after the defeat the Shredder. I’m still working out the timeline cause when I was first deciding their ages, I forgot about the two years from the end of the series and the start of the movie 🙄. So I’m doing some reworking on that end. I think I’ll either change them to be a few years older at the start of the AU than I made them, OR the AU and the fight with Shredder will go for a longer stretch of time than it did in the series. That way there’s not a huge two year gap of unknown time between Shredder’s defeat to the start of the movie. EDIT Now that we know the series took place over two years and it was only a couple months between the finale and the movie. Their ages are gonna be the ones listed on their character charts!!

I’m still not even sure if I’ll manage to make it that far, but hopefully we will get there eventually! Cause I really wanna get to Casey. In fact, I’d probably make it less about Leo growing into a more serious role (cause obviously he’s already there), and more about him really accepting the love of his family. We might even see a future Leo come back with Casey?? It would be so hard not to go that route cause I love that idea so much 🤣

But I honestly don’t know yet what I’d really like to do. And I’d hate to give an answer that I’d have to redact later. I’ve got a lot of ideas, but I can’t even think about them, until I put out all the other stuff I’ve got planned. So let’s all cross our fingers and hope we get there some day lol!

2012!Leo would go MOM MODE™️ EXTREME, 2012!Raph and Don would take off like a rocket with the intention of hunting down and murdering Draxum, Shredder and Big Mama, and Mikey would probably be caught between holding back tears and doing his best to tell jokes and ease the tension, or following after his brothers in their murder spree.

Basically as much as the 2012 boys would be thrown off at first over how different the AU boys are from the other versions of themselves they’ve met, they’d go HARD as the protective older bros. But the only one who’d probably actually appreciate it would be AU!Raph cause he never gets to be the little brother lol.

@smoldevelopingcookie @c00k13san2 @luvrbug @organisedchaosstuff @uniqueness351217

Separated AU tag

#ask slushie #separated au #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt separated au #rise of the tmnt #my art #sep!au life #sep!au crossover

[rougepancake]

Swim

Rohan Kishibe x F!Reader

Warnings: Hate fucking, pent up sexual tension, Rohan being a dick (what’s new), professional to sexual relationship, masturbation, fingering, mentions of prostitution. Minimal plot. Sexually explicit content under cut. Minors and ageless blogs dni. Not proofread.

Summary: Rohan fucks his annoying editor :]

“What the hell are you doing?” You looked over your shoulder at him as you walked out of the shower.

The two of you were stuck together in a fancy hotel suite for the weekend, due to a convention that Rohan’s manager booked.

And as his editor, you were obligated to go.

“I need a nude model.” He stuck up his thumb, using it to cover where your towel rested on your body. He then quickly got to sketching.

“It’s not going to be me.” You scoffed, crossing your arms stubbornly and walking out of the bathroom. To your dismay, he followed you.

“Well who else is it going to be, hm?” He looked up from his sketch pad briefly to observe your body. “Now take off the towel.”

“No.”

“I guess I’m just going to have to estimate about the proportions.” Rohan sighed dramatically and sat across the room, crossing his legs and resuming his sketch. “Could you at least sit on the bed?”

“Fine.” You huffed and sat on the corner of the bed, sweeping your legs to the side to keep the towel from revealing too much of your body.

“In the middle.” He commanded without hesitation, using his pencil to gesture to where he wanted you positioned. “Don’t make me come over there and do it myself.”

“You’d like that.”

He rolled his eyes and set down his sketchbook, offering you a scowl as you centered yourself on the bed. Without a word, he grabbed his things and walked over to where you sat, sitting at the edge so he could have a better view.

“Spread your legs.” He tapped your knee with his pencil, shooting you another glare. If he was so annoyed then why didn’t he just do it himself?! You rolled your eyes and pulled the towel tighter, looking away from him.

“I’m not your model. Don’t talk to me like one.” You scoffed and crossed your arms. “I’m paid to edit your work, not inspire it.”

“How much?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me the first time.” Rohan’s hand moved to his pocket, digging for his wallet while looking you in the eyes. “I can’t believe I’m about to pay my editor to be the filthy slut she is.” He pulled out some cash and tossed it at you, grumbling to himself as he did so. “Ditch the towel too. Nude models are better nude in all their glory.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking at you expectantly.

“Oh?” You smirked and chuckled to yourself, repositioning yourself so you could slide the towel away. “I’m not one of your models. But…” You tossed the towel to the side and leaned back, one of your hands by your head and the other by your waist.

It was the hottest thing Rohan’s ever seen.

And out of all his dealings with nude models, he’s never been flustered by one before.

“What’s wrong? Don’t like what you see?” You taunted, relaxing into the bed. Rohan scoffed and began to sketch you, his eyes tracing every detail of your body, memorizing the way the bed formed beneath your weight, the way the light reflected off your skin.

Everything.

He was not going to let this pass, because, rumor has it, you’re actually pretty damn hot.

“Actually…” He set his sketchbook to the side and moved closer to you, extending his arm and placing a surprisingly gentle hand on your knee. “Let me position you.”

“Hell no.” You slapped his hand away, but it only came back, now resting on your thigh. “This is all you’re getting.”

“Well…” He let out an annoyed sigh and crawled on top of you, his lips twitching upward as he refrained from smirking. “I do believe that it’s best for your expression to be authentic, rather than me having to imagine it.”

“Oh so you wanna touch your editor?”

“Well I figured you could touch yourself.” His hand slid further, making its way to your hip. “And if you’re wanting me to pay you, then money isn’t much of a problem.” His voice dropped to a whisper, low and seductive. You could feel his breathing grow heavier, and if you had put your hand on his chest, then you would have felt how it slowly began to race.

Rohan Kishibe hated you.

But he’d love to see you cry out his name.

Slowly, he crawled back to the end of the bed and resumed sketching. “Hop to it.” He was doing his best to sound uninterested, but he couldn’t help the smirk that had found its way to his lips. He was going to enjoy this.

You groaned and spread your legs wide, closing your eyes as you slid your hand down towards your core.

It was embarrassing enough to have him watching you like this, but hey, he paid you a good amount.

And you’re all about the hustle.

Your fingers collected your own slick, slowly pushing past your lips in a way that made caused Rohan to groan.

“Oh so you like this?” You teased as you continued to finger yourself, soft gasps leaving your lips and slowly filling the room.

“No.” He lied, slowly crawling back to you and pulling your fingers from your cunt. You huffed and shot him a glare, only to roll your head back as he replaced them with his own. “But you seem to be.”

Your moans only increased in volume as his fingers continued to pound into you relentlessly. He had you seeing stars- so many stars that you were able to count them as you began to lose yourself in the pleasure.

“H-Ha- I knew you thought I was h-hot.” You panted, whining softly as he pulled his fingers out of you sharply. Without another word, he grabbed you and flipped you over, shoving your face into your pillows. He had one hand on your neck, the other resting on your waist as he admired the sight of your body against his.

He quickly shed himself of his clothing, tossing the articles aside so he could press his chest against your back.

The feeling of your skin against his was simply too much for him to bear.

Which left him pressing the head of his cock against your entrance, slowly pushing past your lips and groaning loudly at how tight you were.

He hated it. He hated how you were so annoying, but you were so good like this. He hated how you moaned out his name shamelessly as he pounded into you.

He absolutely hated it.

However- he did rather like the way you felt around him.

So it wasn’t all bad.

#jojo’s bizarre adventure #x reader #jjba x reader #jjba x you #jjba smut #rohan kishibe #rohan kishibe smut #rohan kishibe x reader #kishibe rohan #jojo part 4 #jojo’s bizzare adventure x reader #jojo smut #rohan x you #thus spoke kishibe rohan #jojos bizzare adventure x reader

[ivestas]

bro,,,your last ghost one,,,,head full, big thonks

what if hound!reader never went looking for simon because she thought he was dead?? or better yet, she DID look, so vigorously in fact that her superiors at the time maybe misinformed her of his death, even going as far as planting fake evidence??👁👁

also im thinking about old nicknames..,.,hitting him with the "si-guy" or "'mon-mon the man" or smth 💀

can’t say goodbye to yesterday

PART TWO TO ‘HEARTS ALIGNED’

Summary: You were deceived by the same people you fought for. You discuss it with Ghost. 

Tags: soldier!fem!reader (call sign “hound”) x ghost (2022 version), childhood friends, smoking, canon divergence of both the game and the oneshot, barely edited, death, lowkey konig x reader

Word count: 1.4k

Notes: anon, you're genuinely such a GENIUS!!!! those thonks fr are gold bc now my head is full of thonks too hehe---this post will hopefully extend those clever thonks and added more??? 

You were sitting against the wall while Ghost was laying in his cot. The night had grown old, but you refused to leave him—that won’t happen again, not now, not ever. 

You were on your third cigarette, the smoke having long since coated your mouth in a thick layer of cheap tobacco and newspaper. Ghost didn’t seem to mind, laying on his side, watching you with tired eyes—more so watching the cigarette. 

Extending it forward, your head tipped to the side. “You sure you don’t want one?” 

“No. I should be sleeping.” 

“You’re eyeing my cigarette though.”

“Just lost in thought.”

“About smoking a cigarette?” 

He huffed. “No. Just...” he sat up now, the cot straining under his movement. “You’ve changed. And you also haven’t—and you haven’t told me why you didn’t search for me.”

You frowned.

“Jus’ tell me that. Tell me why. I don’t give a bloody fuck if you were just too lazy too—”

“Smoke with me and I’ll tell you everything.” Your voice was strained. 

Emotions were high, tension was thick, maybe it was foolish to think that would just dissolve by planting yourself in his room. You weren’t kids. This wasn’t just a blow-up about something dumb, and you hated it. Because at least when you were kids, the arguments were insignificant, the worst that could happen is you calling him a ‘booger-brained idiot’. 

This was real. This brought true hurt.

You were thankful when Ghost finally nodded, getting up and sitting across you on the floor. Despite sitting criss-crossed, he was huge. He towered over you. König would often shimmy away, giving you a little space—he’d bend his body downward in a vain attempt to dwarf himself.

But Ghost sat tall. He stared right at you and lifted a hand. 

You gave him the cigarette. 

You watched as he lifted the balaclava a little, setting the end at the bridge of his nose. It was just a small sliver of his face, but fuck did it strike you right at your heart. 

His face was all firm lines—carved and rigid, with the lightest scar running along his lips. 

Simon—smaller, younger Simon—had a round face. Soft cheeks, a crooked smile, unscarred.

You looked away to the side at the hard concrete wall, back pressed against it. 

A waft of smoke hit you, then a finger lightly tapped on your hands. 

You turned. Ghost was lifting the cigarette to you. 

Taking it, you murmured a quick thanks before taking a puff out of it yourself. Ghost tugged down the balaclava once more. 

“Why didn’t you search for me?” 

“I did,” you responded simply. “It was when I was younger. Naive. More trusting. You know, I searched for you every moment I got—thought you still went by ‘Simon Riley’. Even went as far as to go to the superiors and ask all nicely—told them, ‘he’s the son of that piece of shit drunkard, the one who you constantly kissed up to.’” You laugh though it’s devoid of any humor.  

Ghost only watched, listened, eyes flicking between the cigarette and your straying gaze. 

“They—they told me you were dead. That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less. ‘Simon Riley was killed in action a few years back’ one of them had told me, all sad-like and frowning. ‘He was a good soldier.’” You scoffed. “No fanfare, no tricks, they just—they said you were dead. Showed me a document or two, I hardly fuckin’ remember, I just... I tried to forget. Not to care.”

Your hands were shaking. You didn’t know why. Your heart was silent, so was your mind, but your body—it was moving on its own. As though shedding a deeper feeling your own mind couldn’t process. 

“So can you imagine my surprise when, just a few months ago, a man named ‘Ghost’ happens to be registered as ‘Simon Riley’ in their files? I couldn’t believe it, thought there was another Simon Riley whose from the UK, but I was curious. So... yeah. I ended up in KorTac ‘cause I heard rumors 141 was gonna come along and do some mission together.” Again, you laughed. “Then I saw you—and fuck, did I tell you how much you’ve grown? You look so different—actually can I say something weird?” 

“Yeah.” His eyes met yours. 

An unfamiliar smile formed on your lips. “It... it makes me happy, seeing you with that Scot, all grown, and... it’s hard to put into words, but it makes me feel proud. And it also hurts like a bitch.”

He hummed. “Could say the same.” 

“Then say the same. I want to hear it, Simon.”

“It makes me feel proud, and it hurts like a bitch.” 

You snorted. “Ass.”

He reached for your cigarette. You handed it to him. “So... does that clear things?” 

“Yep,” he tugged his balaclava off this time, pushing the cigarette between his lips. He’s handsome. “Shoulda guessed you’re too much of a gullible dumbass to find me.” 

“You piece of—keep talking shit and I’ll kick your ass!” You reached for the cigarette. He moved away from your reach, a shit-eating grin now plastered on his face.

“You kickin’ my ass? I’d like to see you try, pipsqueak.” 

“Don’t test me mon-mon.” 

He glared. “Mon-mon?”  

“Sorry, wait, mon mon the man—my bad, nearly forgot the whole damn title.” 

“Keep callin’ me that and I’ll be the one kicking your ass.” 

“Not gonna listen to a guy named si-guy.” 

“Shut. Up.” 

You laughed. It was dumb and childish—not even that funny, frankly—but something about Simon frowning all seriously brought it out of you. 

A moment later, the frown disappeared, and Simon handed the cigarette back with a  little smile.  

Bonus headcanons (post oneshot):

When you two were kids, you often took the role of the mature one to reign in any dumb ideas that Simon schemed, though you’d participate in them moments later. 

The roles have reversed now: you are the dumbass and Ghost tries his best to keep it under control. 

The moment you’re near Ghost, a little layer of your cold exterior melts a little and you allow yourself to drop your guard a little and be loose-lipped—though, in public or with the guys, you tone it down a little and still address him as Ghost. 

In private though? The names are everything except for Ghost. 

Si-guy, mon-mon the man, syphilis, Simon says, se-si-so-fum (fe-fi-fo-fum), etc. 

Half the time the names just don’t even correlate with his and he quickly just got used to it. 

No one really notices the change between the two of you except for Soap, who takes note of the small glances the two of you exchange like it’s a secret language that could only be communicated between you guys.

He even noticed the small brush of your hand against Ghost’s shoulder after a particularly difficult mission and he returned it moments later. 

He has no idea if your friends, lovers, or just like?? Related maybe?? even if it would make ZERO sense for that to be the case.

In regards to König, Ghost would be protective. 

He wouldn’t be shy to voice his thoughts against the relationship because he’s seen how monstrous König could be on the battlefield and worries that he’s just hiding that ‘true persona’ of his for whatever reason. 

Also because he’s possessive; he’s convinced himself he’s just looking after you but he doesn’t like the idea of you straying away again but this time for some other guy. 

He also doesn’t know if he likes you romantically or not: he likes you, but he has no idea if the strength comes from a romantic pull or if it’s just platonic. He just wants you close. 

Also, both of you know each other’s tells; old habits die hard, and the tells you both had of discomfort from childhood still exist to this day.

Simon would go quiet and have a very specific stare that just kind of... glazes over. It’s dissociative.

You’d gently pry him out of that state with uncharacteristically soft words, making random observations or jokes. 

Whenever you're in a similar state, he'd just sit beside you and kind of lean in—he might just straight up grab your hand and squeeze if no one is nearby.

Overall, to any outsider, you guys would just appear to be comrades with the same layers of cold and bile, but in reality, you guys have history.

Despite the time that had passed, you'd still call each other the best of friends.

You're satisfied with that, but Ghost is unsure if he wants something more.

Until then, he'll just shoot König glares until he figures out what he really wants.

AO3

Masterlist

Requests are open

#fr thank you anon this is SO GOOD. #i literally put everything down to write this #simon ghost riley x reader #mw2 x reader #mw2 ghost x reader #ghost x reader #modern warfare x reader #modern warfare 2 x reader

[synthetickitsune]

17's Vocal Unit Reaction: Saying you hate them during an argument

(Inspired by a tiktok edit I saw.) Hip Hop Unit ver. | Performance Unit ver.

Woozi

You’re tired of this, so tired of this. It was past two a.m. again and he just got home. It’s now past three a.m. and your yelling match continues without getting anywhere.

"I hate you!" the words finally slip from your tongue as you can’t hold in your frustration anymore. You don’t even know whether you’re lying or not.

"Take that back!" he yells back after just a beat. Something about his voice makes you stop. He's always had a hard time expressing his emotions, even to you. But you've learned to read him better than most people, and now all you could see in him was anxiety.

"Jihoon?" you question, but before you can continue he slams his hand on the table. You barely flinch.

"Take it back," his voice isn't as loud anymore, but it's colder, more authoritative.

"What is it to you?" you ask him with a sigh, defeated. You know you won't be able to be angry with him anymore, not to the point to keep screaming. Not when you've seen him like that.

"Are you serious?" he asks and you see what he's doing. He always takes what little control he can when he's breaking down. He storms over to you, trapping you between his body and the counter.

"It's everything to me," he says through gritted teeth, “Just like you are.” 

He’s so close you can feel his breath on your skin and you can feel how tense his body is, how angry and hurt he is. You always thought you’d feel afraid in such a situation, but it’s him. And you trust him, you know he wouldn’t hurt you.

“I know, it just doesn’t feel like it. It hasn’t for a while now,” you whisper softly, your gaze falling towards the ground. Jihoon isn’t having any of it though as he gently places a finger under your chin and makes you look back into his eyes.

“I know, and for that I’m really sorry,” his voice drops into a whisper too, “But there’s so much to do. I promise after I finish the work on this album and the promotions afterwards, I’ll take you on a holiday. A real one, just the two of us and no work.” 

“Jihoon, that’s too little too late,” you sigh, “I don’t want much, I just want to fall asleep next to you sometimes, or at least wake up next to you. As it is, it feels like I’m living with a ghost of you.” You see him searching for words but not coming up with any. He knows it’s true just as well.

“I’m sorry, you’re right. That’s the bare minimum and I’m not even capable of that,” he says as his head drops to your shoulder.

“I understand your work is busy. I’m not asking for it to be everyday either, but at least a few times a week? That’s not much, right?” you ask, tangling your fingers into his hair as his arms move to embrace you.

“No, it’s really not. I’ll try, just don’t say you hate me anymore, baby. I can’t lose you.”

Jeonghan

Something between a whine and a growl crawls out of your throat as you rub your palms over your eyes. You’re tired of this, so exhausted you’d rather believe you somehow shifted into another reality than that this is your life. 

“I hate you,” you whimper, just about reaching your breaking point. You can’t go on like this. Allowing your body to lean forward and burying your head in your arms crossed on the table, you feel your eyes watering and as much as you’re trying to persuade yourself that you shouldn’t cry about it and that it’s just exactly what he wants, you can’t help it.

You don’t hear his soft sigh or his approaching steps over your sniffles, but you do feel when he cards his fingers through your hair and gently brushes a few strands behind your ear.

“You’re so mean,” he says, and something about his voice makes you cry harder. How can he sound so tender? And his touch too, it’s so soft and caring. The contrasting feelings that surround him in your head make you dizzy and confused, which in turn fuels your anger and makes more tears escape your eyes.

“I know I wasn’t nice either, but this isn’t fair, y/n. I was just trying to help,” he keeps stroking your head, brushing your hair with his fingers and it feels comforting as much as you want to hate it. 

“I wasn’t trying to suggest you can’t do it. Not at all. It’s just that it would probably require a lot of effort from you as you are right now, and even then it might not be enough,” he keeps his voice calm and it helps you to cool down a little too. You find yourself listening to him. “I just wanted you to really think this over. I know it hurt you, I know, I’m sorry. But I thought you need to hear it without any sugarcoating.”

“But what you said, it hurt, and you knew it would hurt me,” he murmurs, “And yet you said it without reason.”

You sniffle again. He’s right. You can see it now after crying and the anger dissipating a little. You raise your head and see him looking at you with soft eyes. Wiping away some of your tears, you lean forward and hug him. He wraps his arms around you too in return.

“You’re right. I guess I just wanted you to be supportive and not to hear the truth,” you explain and feel him nod patiently.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. I love you,” you murmur against his skin. You can feel his smile.

“I know. Now make me believe it,” he whispers, squeezing you tighter.

Joshua

The ride home was silent for the most part, with Joshua fidgeting with his fingers and throwing subtle glances at you while you kept your eyes glued to the road, knuckles turning white with your tight hold on the steering wheel. Waiting at the traffic lights was the worst, the atmosphere tense and heavy. Sometimes he’d open his mouth to say something but then think better of it, which was just as well. You didn’t really wish to have an argument while driving.

Once you reach home, the silence continues. You kick off your heels and shrug off your jacket, paying your boyfriend no attention. You guess he understands what’s going on in your head since he stays silent and does not push you further. You head to your bedroom first and he’s not following, which allows you to relax the tiniest bit. You take a shower, wash off your makeup, change into comfortable clothes and in the process you cool down.

It wasn’t his fault, not really, he was just being polite as he has to be due to the nature of his job, but it left an icky feeling in your gut nonetheless. You finally decide to talk to him instead of drowning in your mind any longer.

He’s in the kitchen, waiting for you with two cups of steaming tea in front of him. He offers you one with a gentle, apologetic smile. You know he doesn’t like this situation either, which only makes you feel more guilty for the way you are feeling.

“I hate you,” you sigh, rubbing at your tired eyes.

“I’m sorry, I’ll do better,” he says softly, taking your hand into his. You shake your head.

“No, I understand,” you smile at him reassuringly, but there’s bitterness to it that doesn’t go unnoticed.

“It makes you uncomfortable, I don’t want that,” he insists, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“It’s alright, Shua, really. I get it,” you repeat again, “I just need to get used to people flirting with you when you’re already mine. It’s not a nice feeling, but I get that you can’t do anything about it.”

“Maybe I could handle it in a better way,” he wonders aloud, but you stop him again.

“No, that’s not the problem. Honestly. I’m grateful, you’re never flirting back, you’re very polite, there’s nothing you do wrong. I don’t know, I guess I really just need some time,” you explain as he squeezes your hands and brings them to his lips to kiss over your knuckles.

“And I’m sorry, I didn’t mean what I said,” you apologize, “I know I wasn’t being fair to you and my emotions got the better of me. It’s just hard to not be mad about the situation, even though you work so hard and do nothing wrong.”

“It’s okay to be mad about the situation though,” he smiles at you with one last kiss to your hand, “As long as you don’t get mad at me.”

“I’ll try. I love you, Shua.”

“I love you too, y/n. And I’m all yours, only yours.”

DK

One room, two vastly different moods.

While he is on one side, laughing so hard he has to lean against the wall for support and almost crying, you’re very much unamused and struggling to get the tape off your face to recover some of your dignity. You wince when you pull at it and it pulls some of your hair as well. That seems to wake him up since you hear his footsteps approaching and his giggles getting closer.

“I hate you,” you whine, hitting his shoulder without any real strength. He’s still chuckling and it must be infectious because you laugh at the situation too.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he smiles, finally helping you get the thing off. He’s careful, his fingers dancing across your skin as if he was caressing you instead. It’s very effective in soothing the rest of your anger. 

“But you must admit that there’s something good about it too,” he hums, getting rid of the last piece of the tape. You scoff, looking at him with unconcealed distrust.

“We’re not fighting anymore at least,” he says sheepishly. He looks at you almost hopefully. You take a second to think, but you’re really not sure you’d be able to keep fighting with him after he saw your face disfigured by the tape and more importantly helped you even though you were such an asshole to him just minutes before.

“You know at first I was about to keep yelling at you,” you inform him and watch his face fall.

“I didn’t, though, did I? And I don’t feel like fighting anymore, it was stupid anyway,” you add quickly. He sighs, smile returning to his lips. 

“You’re right,” he agrees, “It’s pointless to fight when we can just talk about it.” You nod, slipping your hand into his after he throws away the tape.

“But, y/n, did you mean that?” he asks, his voice small and nervous again, “That you hate me?”

“Of course not,” you shake your head, “I’m sorry. I was sort of holding it in during the argument because it’s not true and I didn’t want to hurt you, but this was the last drop and I just couldn’t help it.”

He chuckles, remembering what got you on the talking terms again. However, you notice that he holds your hand tighter and the subtle way he’s moving closer to you.

“Why was the tape there anyway?” you finally remember to ask, prompting Seokmin to laugh.

“I wanted to prank one of the guys, but you just happened to come sooner,” he explains with giggles, “Honestly I forgot about it so if it wasn’t for you, I’d get caught in my own trap.”

“You’re lucky I love you, otherwise I’d really punch you,” you say, only half-joking.

“I know, I’m very lucky to have you,” he says as he pulls you in for a kiss. “You saved my life even though you were so angry with me. How can I repay that kindness?”

“How about setting it up again? Hoshi’s been teasing me all day yesterday, I wanna get back at him.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Seungkwan

You try to focus on your breathing and calm down. You need to calm down, or your temper will make things even worse. It’s hard to calm down, though, as your boyfriend keeps on listing things that are apparently wrong with your outfit. It’s surprising he hasn’t yet noticed the effect his words have on you, but then again he might not necessarily care. That’s also a possibility - it’s really not, unfortunately you’re not in the state of mind to realize it, only spurred on by anger and embarrassment. 

“I hate you,” you shout suddenly, interrupting him mid-sentence and surprising both of you. Your eyes meet and even though you regretted your outburst as soon as it left your lips, it stings even worse when you see the hurt in Seungkwan’s eyes.

“I can’t believe you!” he shouts back at you after a pause and storms out of the room.

You sigh, your head falling into your hands. You’ve messed up. Then again, you can’t feel entirely guilty, because you’re also angry with him and feel humiliated too. It really is a mess of a situation and you wish you could somehow stop the time, or better yet, turn it back before any of this happened. You consider just staying in the room until he comes back, but you’re not sure when that would happen and all things considered, you’ve messed up more than he did.

You find him in the living room, sitting on the couch in pretty much the same position you were in before. You sit down next to him, carefully shuffling closer until your knees bump against each other. He lets you. You put a hand on his thigh and that too he allows.

“I’m so sorry,” you start, “I didn’t mean that. I was just hurt and my brain stopped working for a second.”

“Hurt? What have I done?” he asks, turning to look at you and he looks so much like a kicked puppy you can’t even get mad that it’s not obvious to him.

“Seungkwan, you’ve literally ranted about how horrible my outfit is for like ten minutes straight,” you explain, “I was feeling really good and pretty before but now I just wanna crawl into a hole and hide.” You watch as his face pales. You swear you can see his heart break.

“y/n, love, that wasn’t what I meant at all! I could’ve made that clear or keep it to myself, I see that now, I’m sorry, but my point wasn’t that something’s wrong with you. You look gorgeous, it’s just the clothes that are wrong,” he says so fast you barely understand him.

“But I’m wearing the clothes, Kwannie, how am I supposed to feel?” you whine.

“I know, I get it now, I’m sorry. Please, just know that when I’m complaining about a certain style or color, it doesn’t have to do anything with how you look. You make it look amazing, I guess I just wanted to rant about my preferences for my own clothes,” he sighs but relaxes slightly when you smile at him.

“Are you sure you want me to go with you even if my top is this ‘hideous’ color?” you tease to ease the tension. You realize how stupid the entire conflict is and just want to forget it.“I’d love to. I’m showing you off, not the clothes, stupid.”

#seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen vocal unit #seventeen reactions #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #angst #fanfiction

[peacefulmultishipper]

So according to IGN, P3R won’t have any content from P3P and P3F which in my opinion is an odd choice along with the fact that they claim to also be writing new events, voice lines, ect along IGN basically going “Meh, they’ll make a definite version of the remake with that FES/Portable content” so it leads me to wonder what the point of the remake is if you don’t include everything even if it’s just FES stuff outside of the reason of “We wanted to give the original Persona 3 experience” when both FES and Portable already did even with its added stuff for the former and limitations + a new experience in the form of the Femc for older players with the latter.

All this along with the other removed content (including the optional ones) will just lead to more discussion and arguments from fans all versions and new players wondering what the best version of P3 is the best “objectively” with barely anyone ever saying the original P3 was superior, no matter how many years has passed between the original and remastered versions - these discussions will never die down and relit eventually as seen in the Pokémon community in the 3Ds and Switch remakes due to similar reasons as what is going to happen with P3R.

For those who never had “The original Persona 3 experience”, so outside of the obvious “You couldn’t control your party besides the MC” and “You couldn’t change their equipment in the menu so you had to walk up and talk to them one at a time”, let me list off the content that we may not get in Reload:

No Social links for the male party members (Portable)

No Social link for Aigis (FES + Portable)

No Social link for Ryoji (Portable)

No Rio and Saori (Portable)

No Theodore (Portable)

No The Answer that includes a new party member that explains what happened to Makoto Yuki. (FES)

No Femc (Portable)

No Elizabeth dates (FES + Portable)

No Secret Videos (FES + Portable)

No Koromaru walks (FES + Portable)

No new costumes from FES but knowing Atlus they’ll be paid DLC or something. :/

Naganaki Shrine overhaul (FES)

The Desert of Doors (Portable)

No saving Chidori (FES + Portable)

No saving Shinjiro (Portable)

Those are the ones I can recall on the top of my head so unless the new content includes any of these things…well rip FES and Portable, this isn’t me hating on P3R as the game hasn’t been released yet and I’m still gonna buy the game on day 1 as Persona 3 with all its problems is one of my personal favourite games I’ve ever played for its story alone so it getting a remake, I’m all for it and hyped to play as Yuki again and I’m happy that more people will experience that without the horrors of AI party members.

I am just a little disappointed with the possibility of what may not in the game at all with my fingers crossed for DLC/Update instead of the company being greedy again to make a definitive edition of a remake which while tapping this out sounds ridiculous but that’s Atlus for you, it’s something they would do.

#atlus #persona 3 #persona 3 remake #persona 3 reload #persona 3 fes #persona 3 portable #p3 #p3p #p3fes #p3 remake #p3 reload #spoilers #massive spoilers #grammar mistakes #current thoughts #ramblings #just rambling #discussion

[beautifulpersonpeach]

Had to share this with you because I was looking at the quotes on this post and this one gave me a big laugh. This is exactly how you describe how solos see their bias vs other members. And I don’t understand how they don’t realize how insulting this is to Jimin, the idea that he would be so loyal and affectionate towards people who, according them, treat him like trash. But this was seriously so funny. (Like even Jhope who they token stan now? 😭)

https://x.com/diorstear/status/1709969755115811065?s=20

***

Your link.

I mean, where do you even begin with people who are incapable of realizing the implications of what they’re saying? When I say solo stans literally lack ordered thinking beyond the 1st, this is exactly what I mean.

You know what I find most amusing though? I joined Tumblr in 2021, so just before Chapter 2 started. And the topics that dominated here were people speaking lowly of those “chart-obsessed ARMYs”, about those “infantilizing k-pop idols”, about how people should watch full unedited original content, about how k-pop fans shouldn’t have a saviour complex, about the privilege BTS have as Korean men, about how toxic fans lean into parasocial attachments in k-pop, about fans lacking boundaries, etc… This was the dominant discourse in this space always said in a tone where the people in these fringe spaces relative to the main OT7 ones, felt they were above all that. Only for Chapter 2 to start and almost every single one has done an aboutface.

Now practically all these people are significantly much more chart-obsessed than any chartmy I’ve seen ever, it’s like they picked up the tactics (the how) without any understanding of the why, when, and where ARMYs employed those tactics, and intensified it. These are the people now hyping up edits that victimize their fave, constantly wanting to play saviour and inserting themselves into the relationships between the members to assume malice, envy, or hate, all to further the idea that everyone in the group hates their fave, is using them for their own selfish needs, and only their fave is the most selfless sacrificial lamb for the ‘temporary experiment’ that is BTS. In spite of all the footage we have, in spite of what their supposed sacrificial lamb has said and keeps saying… in spite of everything, they choose to insult their fave all in a bid to justify their hate of the rest.

It’s amusing to me because everybody else can tell exactly what this is. We all know the types of groups of people, across various backgrounds, cultures, religions, times, who fall into these exact kind of thought patterns. I promise you, for solo stans it doesn’t just end in k-pop - their underlying beliefs extend to how they see the world at large. And that’s how I know there’s nothing to be done for people like this unless they completely detach. They’ve become too sucked in and are the sorts for whom k-pop will consume everything about them. But that same reason is why they won’t leave, and will only become more and more toxic, further poisoning their own experience within fandom and that of everyone who comes into contact with them.

I keep saying, for BTS, the people who think the least about their faves are their solo stans. And over the three-ish years I’ve been answering asks in this space, it’s clear PJMs are no exception.

Thankfully, Jimin remains fairly insulated from the madness that happens in fandom. He’s focused on advancing his career and all the guys constantly remind everybody that they are in fact in this together and they intend to keep it that way. Speaking of which, Taehyung hyping up 3D was so cute! The way he was saying he loved it almost made me rethink my initial view of the song. And while 3D is growing on me (tbf), I still want to hear more from JK, something that actually wows me. Fingers crossed at least one of the new 8 tracks has something there for me.

Lol anyway thanks (kinda) for sending me that, it did make me chuckle. I say kinda because while it’s a tweet that does prove my point about how akgaes view their fave, I didn’t feel it was worth it seeing the extent of their abuse of other members in the quotes. All of their talking points I’ve heard before and so I’m not sensitive to it, but it’s still kinda unpleasant to see these people be extremely abusive to the members completely unprovoked. It’s like entering a den filled with raving, unwashed lunatics looking for anything to tear apart.

Just unpleasant. So I’d prefer if next time, rather than show and tell with a link, you just describe what you mean without a link to that insanity.

**EDIT: I just realized I only talked about the quotes without addressing the underlying clip and someone who perhaps hasn't watched the original full clip could be wondering why I'm okay with the other six members 'ganging up' on Jimin...

I've actually talked about what happened in that clip on my blog before, and it was in the context of how Yoongi supports Jimin in BTS. For anyone who wants to watch the full thing to reach their own conclusions, the source is from BTS's Festa 2016 dinner. I've linked the Bantan Subs version with English subtitles here:

*

In my Masterlist post where I talk about hate in the BTS fandom, I refer to clips exactly like what PJMs are spreading now to victimize Jimin and incite hatred on other members. Every. Single. Member in BTS has clips like that about them, where they're being immature or cattish, towards the others. Including Jimin. It's an age-old akgae tactic to add up these clips into compilations to create a narrative about their chosen member, it's exactly what shippers do as well and taekookers are the worst offenders, and is also the reason why ARMYs keep insisting that new fans go back to BTS's old content and watch all of it in full. If you're educating yourself on BTS based on clips circulated by akgaes or shippers you've already lost the plot.

#bts #jimin #jungkook #jikook #taehyung #bts maknae line #yoongi #bts chapter 2 #bts solo stans #bts fandom #bts army #fandom behaviour #fandom discourse

[ivyangels-blog]

Maybe You Can Change (Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

A/N: i wrote this as a female reader, but i’m pretty sure that aside from one mention of reader being a “waitress” it’s gender neutral.

Summary: Your Dustin’s older sister (or brother) and want to help keep the kids safe, that’s about all you and Steve have in common.

Warnings: swearing, Billy is an ass, violence, injury, hate to love, only partially edited writing

Word Count: 4.1k

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“This is a scientific discovery!” I hear Dustin shout from the other room.

I stand up from helping Max sweep up glass and head into the kitchen to see Steve and Dustin shoving the dead demadog into the refrigerator.

They slam the fridge door shut and Steve rubs the top of Dustin’s head through his cap.

My heart clenches, recognizing the brotherly bond they have. I’ve always been Dustin’s idol, but ever since Steve came along he’s all my little brother can talk about.

“Dustin, do you mind taking the trash can to the others?” I ask, holding out the bin for him.

“Sure.” Dustin takes the bin from my hands and heads into the living room.

Steve turns to me, giving me a slight nod as he leans on the refrigerator door.

“Thanks for looking after him,” I say. “Dustin. He told me about what happened with the demadogs and I’m glad someone was here to keep him safe.”

When I first went with Nancy and Johnathan to visit Murray, I had no idea what was going to happen while I was gone. I’ve been kicking myself ever since I got back for not being here for Dustin. I’m kicking myself even more for leaving him with Steve Harrington, the biggest dirtbag I know. Dustin may say he's changed, but I'm having trouble believing it. I used to waitress at Benny's Burgers and Steve and his friends would come in nearly every shift, ordering like one milkshake each and a small order of fries and staying for hours. They were so obnoxious they'd drive my other customers away, and they hardly ever tipped. Not to mention the time Steve spilled his drink all over the floor and didn't bother to mention it until after I'd slipped in it.

“Oh, uh… yeah, no worries.” Steve crosses his arms with a shrug.

“You know he looks up to you more than anyone else in the world.”

Steve smiles a little, but I don’t mean it as a compliment.

“So, don’t hurt him and don’t teach him to grow up to be a dick like you.”

Steve’s face falls. “Y/n, I’m not like that anymore. I know I was a real jerk, but I swear that’s all in the past.”

I roll my eyes. “Do you really think you can just snap your fingers and become a better person over night? That everyone should just forget about all the terrible things you’ve done and move on?”

“No, of course not.” Steve shakes his head. “But I’m trying. You have to give me credit for that.”

I scoff. “I don’t have to give you shit.”

Steve's mouth opens to say something, but he's cut off by shouts from the kids in the next room.

"Guys, we have an idea on how we can help," Dustin's head pokes around the corner, a bright smile on his face.

"What are you talking about?" I ask, making my way into the living room with Steve close behind me.

"If it works like a hive mind, then we can light fire to the hub and draw the demadogs away and clear a path to the gate," Mike explains.

"No way, it's too dangerous," Steve butts in. "We wait here, where it's safe. That's the plan."

"Come on. El can't do this on her own. We should be doing everything we can to help her." Dustin turns to me for approval. "Please, Y/n."

I don't want Dustin to get hurt, or any of the other kids for that matter, but right now he's valuing my opinion above Steve's. Not to mention agreeing with Steve on anything right now is not something I want to do.

"Hey, I said no. We're supposed to make sure you guys don't get hurt." Harrington points at Dustin and each of the kids, his other hand on his hip. I'd laugh at how silly he looks if I wasn't filling up with rage at how he's undermining my authority.

The kids release an array of protests, all of their voices melding together. It's impossible to understand what any of them are saying, until Max shouts above the rest of them.

"Guys, my brother's here," she says, from her spot by the window. "He'll kill me if he finds out I'm here."

"Get away from the window," I tell her, motioning her towards me. "I'll handle it." I make my way towards the front door, but a hand clasped on my shoulder stops me.

"No way, I'll talk to him." Steve moves to slide past me, but I put my arm up, blocking his path.

"Absolutely not. You and him combined will result in enough testosterone to blow this place up." I put my hand on the handle of the front door, pushing him and the kids back around the corner. "Just wait here."

I open the door, stepping outside, just as Billy is climbing out of his car.

"Henderson?" he questions, jostling the cigarette tucked between his lips. "What are you doing here?"

My shoes crunch on the gravel driveway as I step closer to him. "I could ask you the same thing." I do my best to keep my tone friendly, but it's hard to keep my cool when Billy's puffing smoke in my face.

"I'm looking for Maxine. Heard she might be here." Billy looks over my shoulder, obviously at the window.

I shrug, feigning ignorance. "I haven't seen her."

"Is that so?" Billy asks, testing me.

I nod.

"I would've thought you had. She hangs out with your brother, right? I told her to stay away from that little mutant." Billy tilts his head back, letting out another puff of smoke.

I clench my fist at my side. “Well lucky for you she must have listened, Max isn’t here,” I grit out.

“Then you won't mind if I just take a look inside.” Billy bumps my shoulder, brushing past me.

“Hey, you can’t just go in the Byers' house without their permission.” I grab his arm, pulling myself back in front of him.

“Don’t worry,” he says, flashing a condescending smile. “I’ll knock.”

“The Byers aren’t here right now. They had an emergency and asked me to watch the house. So, you can just leave.”

Billy continues to step closer to me, and I put a hand on his chest to stop him.

His gaze drops down, looking at where my hand lies on his chest. He grabs my wrist, prying it away from him.

I try to pull away, but the vice of his fingers is unforgiving, and he only tightens his grip the more I struggle.

“Billy, let go,” I say, using almost the full force of my body to get free.

He doesn’t listen, anger lighting his face as he twists my wrist away, causing me to cry out.

I hear the front door open and Billy’s fiery gaze turns away from me.

“Is that you, Harrington?” he asks.

“Let her go,” is Steve’s only response.

“Not a problem.” Without looking at me, Billy yanks my arm, releasing me as I stumble to the ground.

I just barely catch myself on the ground, the little bits of gravel digging into my palms and pain shooting up my already bruising wrist.

I hear a scuffle behind me and push myself up, wiping my hands on my jeans. When I get to my feet, I see Steve doubled over on the ground, panting.

“You alright?” I ask.

“Yeah, just give me a second.” He holds up a hand, as he continues to catch his breath.

A crash from inside jerks my attention away, and I run through the already open front door.

Max, Dustin, and Mike are gazing into the next room, horrified looks on their faces. I round the corner, seeing Lucas pinned against a china cabinet by Billy.

“Get back, get back,” I step in front of the kids, pushing them further away from Billy.

I’m getting ready to surge at Billy, when Lucas knees him in the groin and Billy falls back with a grunt.

“You’re dead, Sinclair,” Billy pants. “You’re so dead.”

Fear lights my chest, knowing that there’s no way I’ll be able to stop Billy.

Before I can start to formulate a plan, Steve comes running in, stepping in front of me and the kids.

“No, you are,” Steve says, turning Billy towards him and punching him straight across the face.

Billy turns away, spitting out blood, and Lucas comes running across the room to us.

“Are you okay?” I ask, gripping his shoulder.

Lucas nods, and Mike, Max, and Dustin pull him into a hug.

Billy’s laughing now, blood dripping on his mouth, and it’s terrifying. “Looks like you’ve got some fire in you after all!” he shouts. “I’ve been waiting to meet this King Steve everyone’s been telling me so much about.”

Billy waves his arms, stepping closer to Steve, not seeming even the slightest bit fazed by the fact that he just punched him.

Steve places a light touch on his chest, pushing him away. “Get out.”

Billy looks on, and for a split second I think he might just listen, but then he takes a fast swing at Steve.

Steve dodges it, throwing another punch at Billy that sends him flying into the table.

"Yes, Steve! Kick his ass!" Dustin screams beside me.

Steve punches Billy a few more times, backing him into the kitchen counter.

Hope soars in my chest, despite Billy's reputation as a tough guy, it looks like Steve might be able to win this.

Billy's hand falls on one of Joyce's plates, pulling it into his grip.

"Watch out!" I shout, but it's too late, Billy smashes the plate over Steve's head, sending him staggering, towards us.

"Holy shit," Dustin shouts. I push him and the rest of the kids backwards, as Billy comes stomping towards us, headed for Steve.

"Steve." I reach for him, but Billy gets to him first, yanking him up by his collar.

"No one tells me what to do," Billy fumes, crashing his head into Steve's.

The kids are all shouting, screaming, begging Billy to stop, as he towers over Steve, pinning him to the floor and punching him repeatedly.

I rush forward, not sure if I'll even be able to make a difference. I latch onto Billy's arm, pulling as hard as I can, which only succeeds in him, elbowing me in my cheekbone, sending me falling backwards.

"Stay out of this," he spits, continuing his battering on Steve.

I search the room, looking for anything I can use as a weapon.

"What the-" Mike mutters, and suddenly the terrible sounds of punching have stopped.

I turn back and see Billy rising, one of the syringes we used to sedate Will protruding from his neck.

Max looks on, slowly backing away, gauging his reaction.

Billy pulls the syringe from his neck, staring at his sister with rage. "What the fuck did you do to me, you little bitch?" he murmurs, the sedative already kicking in.

It's not long until he falls to the floor.

I rush over to Steve, who's face is completely covered in blood. I lift his head up, calling his name, but he's not conscious.

I hear Max, drive a bat into the floor. "Say you understand!" she shouts at Billy.

Billy murmurs an, "I understand" and she drops the bat to the floor, digging through his pocket and pulling out a set of car keys.

"Let's go," she says to Mike, Dustin, and Lucas.

"Hold on, Steve needs help." I stand up, halting the kids plans.

"El needs help, too. And I think what she's dealing with is a little worse than a few bruises," Mike butts in.

I sigh, glancing back down at Steve.

"Lucas, find a first-aid kit. Mike grab some ice packs. Dustin, get whatever you need for this crazy plan of yours. Max you can help him." They all turn, going in different directions, hopefully doing what I told them to. "Hold on," I say, stopping Max. "Give me the keys, I'll drive."

After some heavy lifting from all of us, we're in the car with Dustin giving me instructions on where to go.

"Then make a left up here," Dustin points, I quickly jerk the vehicle to make the turn.

"Have you ever driven before?" Lucas asks, as we dodge a trashcan on the side of the road.

"Yes," I retort.

"Yeah, like once," Dustin chimes in.

"Shut up," I fire back.

"It's true!"

"Hold on, hold on, he's waking up."

I glance over my shoulder and see Steve in the backseat, turning his head slightly.

Dustin mutters words of encouragement to him, as Steve groans.

"What's going on?" he asks and I hear panic start to rise in his voice.

"Don't worry, we have a plan."

"Y/n?" Steve murmurs. "I thought we agreed this wasn't happening."

"Sorry, Steve." I step on the gas, knowing that we're almost there.

"Great, you're going to get us all killed." Steve sits up in the backseat, leaning over the center console, but quickly falling backwards, as I speed up more.

I pull across the field, stopping the car and putting it in park.

The kids and I immediately climb out, them going to the trunk and unloading all the materials we brought.

"Hey, this isn't happening. Guys! Guys, stop it." Steve tries to grab everyone's attention, but they're all ignoring him, carrying out the mission like we planned.

I come up behind Steve, clapping him on the shoulder. "You know, Billy got you pretty bad. No one would blame you if you wanted to wait in the car. I can look after the kids."

Steve gives a fake laugh. "No way." He turns to the kids and their gear. "Pass me some of that." He holds out his hands and Dustin hands him a backpack.

Within minutes, all of us have covered our faces with bandanas and glasses. Ready to drop into the Upside Down.

“Are we really doing this?” Steve asks, me as we stand over the edge of the hole.

“What are you scared?” I ask, dropping in to join the kids who are already mapping out which way to go.

Steve drops down beside me a second later.

“This way,” Mike says, heading down one of the tunnels.

“No way.” Steve jostles past all of us. “I’m leading the way.”

He turns his flashlight, Mike close behind him. I pull out the knife I brought with me, bringing up the rear.

“C’mon, move it,” I say, urging the kids to keep up with Steve.

As we get further through the tunnels, we come across weirder things.

“What the hell?” Dustin mutters looking up at a bulbous, glowing mass in the ceiling.

“Let’s just keep moving,” I tell him, wanting to get in and out as fast as possible.

We keep going until we come across a center area, where all the tunnels are connected.

“Well, Wheeler,” Steve says. “I think we found your hub.

I pull off my back, passing out cans of gasoline. “Drench it.”

When we’re finished, we all line up against the tunnel we came from. Steve pulls out a lighter, holding it in his hands.

“You guys, go ahead. This things gonna light up fast,” I say, pushing Dustin and his friends back up the tunnel.

Dustin grabs my arm as I turn to go back to Steve. “Wait.” He looks up at me and I can tell looking in his eyes, even though they’re covered by his silly scuba mask, what he’s thinking.

I pull him into a hug, squeezing him as tight as I can for just a second. “Don’t worry, we’ll be okay. Now get out of here.” I rush back to join Steve, standing by where he’s crouched down.

“Sure you don’t want to go with them?” he asks. “I can light this thing by myself.”

“And let you get all the glory? Not a chance.”

Steve tilts his head with a smile and flicks on the lighter and tosses it into the center of the hub.

Within seconds heat, warms my face.

Steve jumps to his feet, grabbing my arm and tugging me along.

“Go, go,” he shouts, as we sprint through the tunnels. I can hear the sounds of the flames crackling behind us, but don’t turn back.

Soon Steve and I can see the kids standing in front of us.

“Keep going,” I shout.

“Mike’s caught!” Lucas shouts back.

“Shit,” Steve pulls the bat out of his bag and once we catch up to them he smashes it down on the vine holding Mike.

We all rush to help Mike to his feet, but a growling makes us turn.

“Dart?” Dustin says, when he sees the monster in front of us. He slowly steps forward and I reach to pull him back, but he shakes me off.

“Just trust me on this.”

“Didn’t that thing kill Mews?” I ask, trying to reach for Dustin without making any sudden moves that might spark the creature to attack.

Dustin crouches down in front of it and I slap a hand over my mouth to cover the squeak that nearly comes out.

A hand grabs mine and I look up to see Steve, looking at Dustin with us much fear on his face as I feel in my heart.

“Will you let us pass?” Dustin asks, and Dart’s mouth flares open, exposing its razor sharp teeth.

Steve’s hand squeezes mine even tighter and I squeeze back.

“You hungry?” Dustin asks, pulling a candy bar out of his bag.

“Oh my god,” I murmur, as he practically touches the thing in order to feed it.

Dustin waves us forward without turning and I push Mike, Lucas, and Max around him.

Steve and I right behind them.

We pass Dart, grabbing Dustin on the way.

“Don’t ever do something like that again,” I warn, slinging my arm over his shoulder for a side hug while we walk.

Dustin just chuckles, but we’re interrupted by a roaring in the distance.

“They’re coming!” Mike screams. “Run!”

We all take off down the tunnel, slipping and sliding on the slimy walls.

“Where’s the exit?” Max shouts.

“There!” Lucas points to the dangling rope down one tunnel.

Steve runs ahead. “Come on! Come on!” He grabs Max as soon as she gets there, lifting her up so she has less rope to climb.

I help him lift Lucas and Max pulls him up from the other side. Mike is next and we manage to get Dustin up just as the first demadog comes around the corner.

“Start climbing, I’ll hold them off,” Steve braces himself with his bat, but I’m already pulling out my knife.

“Y/n!” Dustin calls from above, and my heart clenches at the sound, but I can’t bring myself to look up.

I brace myself as the herd of them races towards us, but when the first one flies past me, I drop my weapon slightly.

“What the hell?” Steve pulls me closer to him, our chests against each other, making more room for the monsters to avoid us.

I look up at him, to find him looking down at me. “What’s this?” he asks, fingertips brushing my cheek.

“Billy knocked me a little at the Byer’s house, but it’s fine. I’m a lot better off than you.” I chuckle a little, but Steve just gives a small smile, his face stony.

Soon, they’re all gone and Steve and I are alone in the tunnel, still pressed against each other.

We both back away with a cough and I move to grab the rope.

“Here let me help you.” Steve grabs my waist and boosts me up, the kids grabbing my arms and pulling me the rest of the way.

I plan to turn around and help Steve, but Dustin’s arms are latched around my waist the second I can stand.

“Hey, I’m okay,” I say, hugging him back. “I’m okay.”

“I know,” Dustin mumbles into my chest, still refusing to let go.

I look up and see that Steve has managed to climb out as, well.

I smile at him when he gets to his feet, removing one arm from Dustin’s back and motioning him into the hug, along with everyone else.

So, there we stand, on the edge of the Upside Down, all six of us clinging to each other, as the Gate finally closes.

"Dustin, Steve's here!" I call, seeing his car pull up out front.

"I'm not finished getting ready."

Dustin comes out, hairspray in hand.

"You look fine."

Dustin gives me a look and then heads back into the bathroom.

The doorbell rings and I rush to go get it. I open the door and Steve is standing there, hands in his pockets.

"Hey, y/n," he says, nodding his head when he sees me. I haven't seen much of Steve since the Gate closed.

"Hey." I step aside so he can come in. "Dustin's still getting ready."

Steve nods, standing beside me in the entryway.

"Your face looks better," he says, motioning to where Billy hit me over a week ago. The bruise has completely faded now.

"Thanks," I chuckle. "Yours does, too."

"Shit, I'm gonna be late." Dustin comes out, yanking his shoes on, his curls still loose on his head.

"Woah, calm down, dude." Steve puts his hands up. "I can do your hair in the car."

"Not while you're driving I hope."

Steve turns to me. "No, of course not. You can drive." He places his car keys in my hand.

"Um, I don't think you want me behind the wheel of your car." I go to hand the keys back, but he pushes them away.

"It'll be fine. I can give you like a driving lesson." Steve grabs the hairspray from Dustin's hand and we all head out to the car.

I nervously climb in the driver's seat, while Steve gets in the passenger's seat and Dustin sits in the back.

Steve directs me on how to drive and luckily for me, the school isn't that far away and this time there isn't the imminent threat of destruction urging me to drive faster, just Dustin whining about being late and getting hairspray in his mouth.

I pull up beside the school, turning to Dustin in the backseat. "Have fun," I tell him.

"Go get 'em tiger," Steve says, as Dustin climbs out the door and goes inside.

I move to unbuckle my seat.

"Hold on," Steve says. "We're not done with your driving lesson."

I grin at him, starting the car engine back up. "Where to?" I ask.

"I was thinking milkshakes at the diner on 5th."

I pull the car out of the school parking lot. "You know that hairspray probably stunk up your whole car, permanently."

Steve shrugs. "Nah, it usually just takes a couple hours to air out."

I turn to him a smirk on my face, and my eyebrows tugged together. "Use hairspray often?" I ask, knowing that his fluffy hair is his most sought after feature.

"No," Steve replies, shifting the bottle in his hands and I catch sight of the image on the side.

"Is that Farrah Fawcett hairspray?" I ask with a laugh.

"No." Steve drops the bottle to the floor. "Hey, eyes on the road!"

I'm still laughing as I turn my attention back to driving. I pull into the diner parking lot, which lucky for me is almost empty-I take up two spots.

Steve and I head inside and I walk up to the counter ordering one strawberry and one chocolate milkshake.

Steve gives me a funny look as I turn and head to the nearest booth.

"What?" I ask. "Chocolate's still your favorite, isn't it? It's all you used to order at Benny's."

Steve's face contorts as he slowly remembers. "You worked at Benny's?"

I smile. "Yup, back when you were still "jerk Steve."

Steve drops his head into his hands. "Dammit, I was awful to you."

He sounds so distraught that I feel bad for him. I reach over, pulling his hands away from his face. "Hey, don't worry about it. I know I was giving you a hard time earlier, but after seeing the way you protected the kids... it's hard not to like you."

Steve looks up at me, a cocky grin on his face. "You like me?" he asks.

I roll my eyes. "I hate you less. How about that?"

"I'll take it." Steve leans back in the booth, spreading his arms along the top. A strand of hair hangs loosely over his forehead, as he looks around the diner.

In that moment, gazing at him, I knew that my heart didn't hold an ounce of hatred for Steve Harrington.

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve x reader #billy x steve #fanfiction

[eremiie]

blame it on the whiskey;

❥ 12k words | nsfw | eren x reader

❥ you and your closest friends get together for a sleepover, but there’s one issue— eren jaeger is there, but you have to stick it through for the rest of your friends.

❥ content: alcohol use, overstimulation, choking, slapping, biting, scratching, dirty talk, degradation, teasing, orgasm denial, barebacking, cum play (?), spitting

"i literally just don't understand why he's here." your complaining was filling the small kitchen, you body propped up on the island seated in the middle of the room. "i mean he's just so annoying.. i don't understand you guys, y'all-"

"listen, ___, babe, you just need to relax." hitch cut you off, strutting into the kitchen then placing her arms at your bare shoulders, fixing the straps on your tank top as she spoke. "eren is not even that bad, and he's cute! we're gonna get you drunk tonight so you don't even have to think twice about him." she runs her hand down your waist and fixed the hem of your shirt before walking towards jean, reaching around him for a bottle of whiskey, pouring herself a shot with her glass before waving her way out of the kitchen, back towards the living room.

"i don't even know why you let him bother you that much, ____." jean huffs, pouring the rest of the chips into the bowl, connie pulling sasha away before she could try to grab it. "wait until i bring it to the living room, sasha!" he hisses, passing the bowl to you to hold.

"i don't! he argues with me over everything. it's so annoying. i swear i mind my business, and then he just butts in with his smart ass mouth. connie's usually there, right connie?" connie turns towards you with a confused expression on his face, stopping his slight wrestle with sasha, irritation spread across her face at the way he was restricting her from eating the snacks for the sleepover.

it was your last year of high school before you were going off to college alongside your friends, well your friend group. you all planned to get together in celebration, hosting a sleepover party, choosing jean's house as the destination while his parents were away. you had no problem with this; however you had a problem with eren jaeger.

during your first couple years the two of you got along quite well. having been so close with connie, sasha and jean you were kind of forced to hang out with eren, mikasa and armin since eren and jean were close as well. the two friend groups along with a couple others spent time well together, all of you constantly hanging out and having fun. both you and eren's personality were too much, you were both temperate and were easy to irritate. your arguments, no matter how small also turned into something big (you always won them though). your mouth was too quick and witty for eren while his was too harsh and rough for you. after a while the arguing turned into shade and pettiness and the two of you let your pride get the best of you, refusing to turn a shoulder towards the other, a newfound "hate" forming between the two of you.

but even after all of this not one person in your friend group could deny the sexual tension between the two of you, prevalent even from the beginning.

it was funny, when you and eren's friendship first blossomed the two of you had the slightest crush on each other. although, neither of you denied it and would never act upon it. the closer you got the more handsy you got, the more flirty you became until you chose to act repulsed upon one another's mere presence in a room after realization hit, which carried on even until now.

"i mean, i don't know, i don't pay attention. everything you guys argue about is stupid anyways." connie's hand was slapped away by sasha and she jumped off the counter.

"jean, please i'll bring it over there, just let me have a couple of pieces." sasha pointed to the small bowl of sour candy, putting on her best puppy dog eyes. jean rolled his eyes and shoved the bowl in her direction. you had to admit, she looked adorable in her onesie. she was matching with connie as well. they both thought it'd be comedic to buy onesies when all of you went to the store for snacks earlier. you took in jean's appearance as well, noticing he was still in his jeans and a t-shirt, how atypical of him.

"connie carry the drinks, and ____,"

you narrowed your eyes at jean with a pout at his lack of understanding upon your situation as he came over with his arms crossed over his chest. "it's only one night, and y'all will be gone tomorrow. don't be stupid, we're all friends here so just stay out of each other's way."

"jean,"

"please? i want this night to go as planned, and perfect."

"what's your idea of perfect? getting to suck on mika-"

jean's hand clamped over your mouth anger spanning over his face, his body tilting over to the left to see if anyone was listening from the hallway. "shut the fuck up! no, i want this to be fun for all of us dumbass. if you and jaeger boy are gonna go back and forth like that it'll ruin it for all of us."

"guys hurry up, we're playing never have i ever shot edition!" hitch yelled from the living room.

you licked jean's hand and he quickly pulled it away, grimacing in disgust before wiping your saliva on your bare leg. "yeah, whatever."

you hopped off the counter, adjusting your top for the umpteenth time and pulling down your shorts, walking out the kitchen with jean to set down the bowl of chips on the coffee table in the living room. you scanned the room; on one couch lied historia, connie and sasha with jean beginning to walk over to that corner, to sit on the floor beside the couch, and on the couch parallel lied armin, mikasa and eren who was just now sitting back down, sprawling himself across her lap, taking up almost the full length of the couch causing you to sigh in irritation at the simple action. reiner sat on the floor near historia, and hitch sat on the floor with the bottle of jack daniels seated in front of her, refilling a shot glass and patting the seat next to her for you to sit.

"here, take this shot." she pushed it to your lips once you were seated beside her and you reluctantly downed it, a burn singing your throat.

"hitch, relax, i'm gonna take some shots during the game."

"it's a starting shot, girl." hitch's filled her own glass and took another shot before placing the bottle back down and smiling. "okay so is everyone playing?"

everyone nodded their head with a hesitant nod from armin.

"jaeger sit up, i need a clear view of who's going after who, and with your lazy ass sitting like that i can't tell." hitch snapped her fingers at eren from her spot below him, hitting his leg until he groaned and sat up, scooting backwards until he was upright. he ran a hand through his hair to try and tame the loose hairs in the front of his head but it was no use.

"so we all take turns asking questions, if you can't think of one then we'll just skip you. every single time you have done something you take half a shot." hitch leaned into your ear to speak specifically to you, "cause if it was a whole shot i'm blacking out by the end of this night." she burst out into laughter, jean rolling his eyes at her. "i'm going first!"

"hitch what haven't you done?" connie smirks, crossing his arm. "don't you have to mention something you haven't done?"

hitch waved connie off with a glare. "never have i ever cheated, connie." she emphasized connie's name, her comment mostly directed to him and he returned with a confused look, before he realized she was asking in regards to the game.

no ones fingers went down, hitch letting out a giggle. "so no one takes a half a shot, huh? ______ your turn."

you thought for a second about something you haven't done, before opening your mouth. "never have i ever had a threesome." no fingers went down.

"wow, not even your finger went down hitch." eren's voice spoke, a smirk danced across his face that you wanted to smack off just because. seriously you couldn't put your finger on it, it was something about him that just irritated you so much, and you couldn't pinpoint it either. you'd keep composure for tonight though, for jean.

"shut up eren. jean boy! it's you turn."

"never have i ever kissed a stranger." jean huffed at the pet name given by hitch.

hitch and eren's finger went down and they exchanged glances before starting to laugh. "eren! are you talking about that random girl at that party we went to a couple months ago?" hitch spoke through her laughter when eren nodded his head.

both you and mikasa rolled your eyes and you let out a huff of annoyance, for no particular reason. hitch pour and passed eren half a shot, both of them downing the liquid at the same time before shaking their heads.

"my turn!" connie exclaimed. "never have i ever kissed someone that's the same gender."

"connie you definitely have." eren laughed, clearly enjoying himself.

"why would i say it if i have? i haven't, you probably did! put your finger down!" the boys didn't even acknowledge historia and hitch's fingers going down until reiner spoke.

"it was definitely ymir." he chuckled to historia who put her hand over her face.

"stop!" she squealed out of embarrassment. before taking the shot hitch handed to her.

"my turn!" sasha repeated connie's words, stuffing a couple pieces of candy into her mouth before speaking again, "never have i ever had a one night stand."

a plethora of fingers went down, this included you, jean, eren, hitch, reiner, and historia. "shots, shots, shots, shots!" hitch chanted laughing before filling everyone's cup with half of a shot, sitting back down. "historia, i didn't know you had it in you, and you either _____." she smiled poking your sides causing you to squirm away. "anyways your go, historia."

"okay, um.... never have i ever... sent nudes?" her statement came out more like a question. your finger went down along with jean's, eren's, reiner's and hitch's, who proceeded to fill cups again.

"historia i'm surprised you haven't." hitch filled historia's cup wiggling her eyebrows at her. "i bet yours would be so bomb too, like your so cute and small and your boobs are like perfect-"

"hitch!" historia's hand slapped over her mouth in further embarrassment as she cut hitch off before she could go on any longer.

"reiner, your go."

"never have i ever... dated someone just to make someone else jealous."

jean, hitch, mikasa and eren's finger went down. eren seemingly uncomfortable. "wait, okay let's talk about this one—" hitch spoke. "jean who did you date and who were you trying to make jealous?"

jean let out a puff of slight annoyance. "you don't know her and i'm not saying who i was trying to make jealous."

"why? cause they're in this room?" hitch raised her eyebrow earning a hard glare from jean who didn't deny it, only flipping her off and muttering a "shut up".

"eren how about you?" eren stretched his arms out, the hem of his white shirt rising up to reveal a little bit of his stomach, before he let his hands back down. "uh, it was mina carolina, from school, but i'm not saying who i was trying to make jealous."

"you guys are some pussies," hitch drunk her half shot. "mikasa? im surprised."

"i'm not telling." mikasa simply stated.

"well then what about you, hitch?" you asked.

"two things, none of you guys know who the person i dated was, and anyways he was a bitch, second, i was trying to make marlo jealous, but he didn't fall for it, his sweet ass." she sighed. "i need another shot after that one." you grabbed the bottle before hitch could take another shot, clicking your tongue with a shake of your head.

"marlo? the one that sasha punched that one time we had a party at school last year?" armin asked with a small laugh, remembering the event.

"yup, that marlo. you guys were talking about what i haven't done, what about eren? what hasn't he done?" hitch mumbled.

"i'm sure eren isn't as bad as you, hitch." mikasa spoke in a monotone voice.

"maybe because he doesn't tell you half of the things that he does."

before mikasa could respond back to hitch's snarky comment, eren cut in, "well for starters, never have i ever slept with someone i wasn't attracted to."

"that barely counts, you're attracted to everyone, jaeger." jean said, putting his finger down.

"shut it, horse face."

"seriously? i thought you were gonna say something way more interesting than that." hitch face palmed, putting a finger down then grabbing jean's shot glass to pour him some.

"like you said, there's not much i haven't done." eren smirked looking at his four fingers down before putting up one and flipping hitch off who reciprocated, sticking her tongue out at eren as well.

"don't get cocky, honey. mikasa your turn."

mikasa sat in silence for a moment, thinking about what she could say although she didn't have to think much, she was basically a blushing virgin, her still having all ten fingers up but one. "never have i ever been rejected."

everyone's fingers went down but hitch, historia, armin, sasha, and of course mikasa's. "i'm too hot for that shit," hitch exclaimed before you shoved her finger down.

"stop lying, let's not talk about the countless times you've cried to me over men." you smirked, hitch pushing you away in a jokingly manner, she downed her shot and poured you one as well.

"armin, your turn baby."

"well," armin fiddled with his fingers deep in thought. "um... i've never you know..."

"had sex before?" eren butt in, putting his finger down immediately. armin nodded his head and everyone's fingers went down but armin and mikasa.

the rest of the game went well, jokes thrown around, more lewd questions being asked, and by the end of it eren, jean and hitch had all their fingers down, essentially losing the game. hitch was the first one out though, clearly drunk by her demeanor.

you got up to use the restroom unannounced, the alcohol filling your bladder, but no one seemed to notice you get up and leave, everyone talking about the game that was just played. you didn't feel particularly drunk, just a little lightheaded when you stood up. you used the bathroom, and began to wash your hands until the door opened outright scaring you, a small shriek coming from your throat until you realized it was eren.

that's when you got upset.

"maybe try knocking on the door first?!" you exclaimed, putting your damp hands on your waist. "what the hell, is wrong with you?"

eren rolled his eyes and looked you up and down. "my bad. you're done though, so excuse me."

you scoffed and crossed your arms in disbelief. "how are you gonna tell me if i'm done or not, i'm in the bathroom. stand out there and wait. you're so rude." you went to the towel rack to dry off your hands then turning around to see eren still standing there. "hello? did you hear me."

eren's eyes came back up to your face and he narrowed his eyes at you. "i'm rude? how? all because i accidentally walked into the bathroom when you were in here?" he raised an eyebrow at you, and you came over to stand in front of him. you didn't miss the way his eyes flickered up and down as he watched you tell him off.

"that's not what i said, i just asked you stand out in the hallway and you literally didn't leave. can i have my privacy? what the fuck?"

"you're literally just washing your hands, stop making it a big deal."

"a big deal? im sorry that i want to use the bathroom in peace. fuck off, eren. you're so annoying."

"how am i annoying? you get mad over the stupidest things.. you're overreacting." eren stepped forward, more into the bathroom.

"guys and girls, can you both shut the fuck up?" hitch stumbled towards the bathroom door, stepping in between you and eren. "both of you are being crybabies. all of us can you hear you guys from the fucking living room."

you rested your weight on your left leg, glaring at eren who just bore his eyes into yours. you noticed he was taking the situation lighter than you, not as mad as he usually gets when the two of you argue. maybe he was drunk? you let your eyes trail over his attire, simple sweatpants and a plain shirt of his, with his chain hanging out, resting on his chest. you averted your eyes and turned towards hitch.

"he apologized ____, and eren, knock next time, hun." hitch grabs both you and eren's arms. "let's all just be civil and friendly here, and... let's play body shots!" hitch slurred with a smile.

"i still have to use the bathroom." eren said. he placed his hand at your waist and moved you backwards towards the door until your feet were behind the line that separated the hardwood from the tile. "excuse me," eren said letting go. you wanted to pull away and tell him to get off of you but you were a tad bit embarrassed at the way you overreacted, not to mention you liked the feeling of his warm hands on your cold skin. "i'll come play in a second." he shut the door.

eren tended to himself, using the bathroom as well and then washing his hands, staring at himself in the mirror for a couple minutes. he retied his loosening ponytail, the same couple strands sticking out in the front and then adjusted his shirt and necklace. he shook his head, alcohol buzzing through his veins luckily he wasn't too drunk yet, and was still pretty stable but he knew hitch wouldn't die down on the alcohol, so he was bound to be fairly drunk by the end of the night, despite being a heavyweight. his hands still buzzed from the way they felt on your skin, but he quickly shook the thought away. clearly, it was just the alcohol talking for itself.

right?

you were leaning against jean on the kitchen counter as hitch explained the rules of the next game you guys would play for your entertainment. you were sure it was mostly for hitch's and to keep herself under the influence.  you could only imagine the impounding headache she was going to have, and you could envision yours too. after all you did have a good amount of shots at this point.

hitch sliced the lime into four pieces. "since mikasa and armin aren't playing, we only have to use one lime." she held up the sliced lime. "so remember, salt, shot, and then lime. you have to put the lime in your mouth and hold it there for the other person, okay? so don't pussy out."

you were skeptical about the game. it was just a sexual way to take a shot; you pour salt on a body part, lick it off, take a shot and then suck on the lime. you guessed you were in it for the thrill. "you don't have to play if you don't want to." jean looked down at you from your spot next to him and rubbed your shoulder, watching your demeanor.

"don't encourage her not to play!" hitch shook her head at jean. "we need as many people as possible so we have more players, plus we're all only going once so it doesn't matter." she used the wheel app on her phone to pick a person at random, and pick a body part at random as well.

"it's fine jean, i'm good, i'll play, just a little drunk." you murmured with a small smile, standing up straight.

"historia and," hitch spun the wheel again, seeing what boy it would land on. "and jean! ooooh," she giggled. "let's see what body part." another spin of the wheel and it landed on shoulder.

historia began to tie her hair back and said a small "i'm scared," before giggling as well and propping herself up on the kitchen counter. hitch began to pour the salt on the crevice between her neck and shoulder, historia leaning back in the slightest so the salt wouldn't roll down.

"don't put too much." jean spoke, stepping forward to stand in-front of historia.

jean simply licked up the salt slowly and impassively, holding underneath her shoulders to keep her upright. historia's eyes widened in the slightest and hitch cheered her on until jean let up and grabbed the shot of whiskey next to him downing it in one go. he blinked a couple times letting the alcohol settle before connecting his lips to the lime sat in historia's mouth and sucking on it before making a sour face and pulling away, taking the lime with him before spitting it in the trash. a mantra of claps arose from hitch, sasha, connie and you, everyone chuckling at his last reaction.

"what did it feel like?" hitch asked but didn't let historia answer before going, "i can't wait until my turn, can i just go next?" she spun the wheel from the app and it landed on reiner, her proceeding with her turn, the same thing repeating with her chest, except reiner placing the glass between her breasts, tilting the cup up to drink it when it was time to take the shot. hitch spoke aimlessly, cheering reiner on and adjusting her top afterwards with a giggle. "i'm literally gonna be so drunk!" she exclaimed, although she had to have been the drunkest one in the room already.

"okay, next," with another spin of the wheel hitch's eyes widened as she stared down at her phone before bursting out into laughter and tugging connie by his onesie. "connie look at this shit!" connie glanced over her shoulder before a surprised look danced across his face. you tried watching to see who he would look at to give you a hint of who were the next contenders but he avoided all gazes and held in his laughter, unlike hitch.

"who is it?" you asked out of pure curiosity and slight annoyance, causing hitch's laughter to roar louder. you stood on your tippy toes from your position beside jean to see if you could catch a glimpse of her phone but it was not visible causing you to step down, rolling your eyes.

"____," hitch tried to subside her giggles but they kept up, her clamping her hand over eren's shoulder for support who looked down at her a just as confused expression as you. her phone was faced down to the ground so he couldn't see who's name it landed on either, although his curiosity got the best of him and he grabbed her wrist to see the phone for himself. hitch pulled away hastily but it wasn't fast enough. "chill!" she spoke through her fit.

"and me?" eren questioned. you raised your eyebrow and eyes began to land on you in question of your reaction to the pairing. you weren't sure how to feel. of course eren and you were two ends of a stick and bickered accordingly but you couldn't help but find him attractive. you knew your stubbornness probably wouldn't let him even touch you in the slightest, let alone take a shot off your body, especially with a public audience. you didn't want them to think twice about your dislike for eren.

"i'm not doing it." you huffed, crossing your arms and almost sneering at eren.

"i mean you guys don't have to do it if you don't want to." jean repeated himself like earlier, placing a hand on your shoulder in a brotherly manner. he was still watching for a reaction from you, the only thing giving him a hint was the way your eyebrow twitched, and the questioning glance you were giving eren. hitch rolled her eyes before she grabbed her phone back from him.

"they literally hate each other of course they're not going to do it." connie chimed in.

"yeah, eren you don't have to do this." mikasa added as well quite sternly, hinting to eren that it was best for him not to either way.

eren gave her a side glance before looking at you for any sign. "i mean i'm down. it's just a stupid shot." he avoided eye contact with anybody in the room, his eyes darting around instead while playing with the loose strands of hair in the front of his head. "i couldn't give a fuck." he added, then crossing his arms as well.

"jaeger boy getting bold, huh?" reiner laughed from his position leaning against the cabinets to the side of the kitchen. eren rolled his eyes in response.

"_____ please just do it! it's just a game and it's only one time— you're literally so boring." hitch's words came out muffled, her hand covering her mouth as she spoke. "remember what i told you earlier, you just need to let go tonight. okay, eren is hot too— so just,"

"okay, hitch." you cut her off abruptly not wanting to hear more of her mouth until you realized what you just agreed to. you watched erens eyes widen in the slightest and his upper lip upturn slightly. you hoped you didn't boost his ego, you still hated his guts, you just wanted hitch to stop her rambling.

"what? seriously? get on the island then!" hitch grabbed your hand and you pulled away so you could climb on top of the island counter yourself with a small pout while hitch spun the wheel on her phone until it landed on 'stomach'. she turned the phone towards you then turned it towards eren. "stomach." she said with a smile.

"you guys don't even like each other, how is this happening?" jean mutters, but hitch caught his words and gave him her own roll of her eyes.

"just let it happen, jean, they're both drunk, they'll probably forget about this tomorrow." she whispers back quite loud. you look at her before laying down on your back with a glare, you didn't think you were really that drunk.

eren climbed off of the counter he was sitting on and made his way over to the island. "hopefully you still hate me after this." he snickers before grabbing the hem of your tank top and sliding it up your stomach until it was bundled right under your breasts. you hated the way his touch sent sparks on your skin.

"shut the fuck up and get it over with." you hiss back as he pours the salt over your lower abdomen, using his free hand to pull your shorts down in the slightest so they wouldn't get in the way.

"open up." eren's hand lingered in front of your face with a quarter of a lime for you to hold in your mouth. you glared at him for the umpteenth time and grabbed it with your hand, placing the sour fruit in your mouth to hold with the rest of it jutting out. eren poured himself some of the brown liquid into his shot glass from earlier, setting it down beside him. he didn't even warn you before he dove down right above your pelvic area, his warm tongue singeing your stomach, and you couldn't help but let out the slightest gasp, looking down at eren. one of his hands was pressed against the table the other one placed on your upper stomach, a hold on your shirt to keep it up, but respectfully (or unconsciously) he avoided your boob, his eyes trained on the substance on your stomach. another lick, and another, and another, and you didn't even realize you were biting your lip to keep from embarrassing yourself in front of your comrades. eren let the salt dissolve on his tongue and once no more resided on your stomach he pulled back with a smack of his lips, an unreadable expression on his face before grabbing the shot and downing it in one go quickly, shaking his head back and forth so it could go down smoother. his hands moved down to either side of you before he bent over you and avoided your eyes again, not to mention you did too, while sucking on the lime that was still being held by your lips. your eyes fluttered and you looked at him for a second until he disconnected. the last thing you felt was his upper lip brush against yours, sending a tingly feeling up your spine.

you sat up abruptly, bumping eren's head in the process causing him to grimace at you and stand up straight. you hopped off the table and pulled your shirt down, hitch grabbing your arm and pulling you into her grip. "you did so good, o-m-g. yay for alcohol, it's bringing my friends together!" she laughed as you pulled away from her and rolled your eyes, crossing your arms and crossing the kitchen to grab a paper towel, wiping at your stomach.

"yay for alcohol!" sasha repeats with a giggle clapping her hands causing connie, hitch and the rest besides mikasa and jean to join along.

"i didn't think she'd actually do it." historia murmured with raised eyebrows at what just took place.

"me neither.." armin responded, his hand covering his mouth with large eyes as well while clapping his hands softly from his spot seated on the counter.

"eren, you didn't have to do it you know, it's just a game." eren turned to mikasa at the sound of her voice and narrowed his eyes slightly, before shrugging it off and murmuring an "i'm drunk." causing mikasa to scoff.

jean watched you cross back over to him with a cautious face. now you could feel the alcohol buzzing. "you okay?" he murmured, a wary look on his face. was it really that shocking to everyone that you could have some fun? or was it the fact that it was with eren jaeger?

you gave him a questioning glance and then look at jean, shuffling your feet. "i'm fine, stop making it a big deal." jean narrowed his eyes as the remaining two carried on with the game, sasha and connie going by default and having planned to do it together anyways. after connie wiped his stomach, as he had sasha do what eren did to you. afterwards everyone decided to pile back into the living room wanting to end the night off with a movie. hitch, of course insisted on bringing the leftover alcohol in its bottle even though armin didn't think it was a good idea, let alone anybody thinking it was a good idea.

"pour me a little more hitch." eren said, seated behind you on the couch while hitch sat in front of you on the floor, bottle of alcohol between the two of you while connie laid against the back of the couch beside him. everyone's seating seemed to change, the group collapsing wherever they deemed fit, but you of course stuck with hitch. jean minded his own trying to select a scary movie for the group, eyes trained on the tv in front of him.

"so you want to get drunk drunk?" hitch slurred using her hand to try and uncap the bottle of liquor. you mentally shook your head and fiddled with hitch's glass that was sitting beside the liquor bottle so she wouldn't fill her own glass again. you were drunk, but not drunk enough to not take care of your friends. plus you wouldn't want hitch passing out either way.

"mikasa, help me pick out a movie?" jean said, eyes looking to the side at the ebony haired girl who stared blankly at the screen, eyes flickering between the people in front of her and the blue light emitting from the tv. she wasn't oblivious to the reason jean was asking, her demeanor made her just choose to ignore it.

"i don't have any suggestions. try searching up some recommended movies or something." jean shrugged his shoulders then whipped out his phone to oblige, meanwhile, eren reached over your shoulder, hand around his glass he carried around all night for hitch to fill. her hands were shaky and she tried her best to concentrate while slowly filling up the cup until eren pulled the glass away, a couple drops of alcohol pouring onto the floor before you tilted the bottle back upright for her.

"hitch, you're making a mess." you grumbled, then taking the bottle and closing it for her before she did anything further.

"eren you should stop drinking so much, or like get some food in your system." sasha suggested eyeing the drink in his hand. he narrowed his eyes at her then roller his eyes sipping on some of the new drink unwary.

"i'm good, i'll eat later."

"no seriously jaeger; you and hitch are the main ones who finished that bottle," connie pulled out a chip as well eyeing it then shoving it in his mouth then leaning forward to nudge eren, gesturing to the bowl for him to eat too.

"connie, stop." eren's lips twitched as he tried not to smile drunkly, swatting connie away and pushing him slightly, connie getting shoved back a little by his small push and him retorting as well. "you haven't ate anything either."

connie laughed and shoved him back, raising a fist jokingly to make eren flinch who instinctively caught connie's wrist with his hand, connie fighting back with a laugh. connie gave eren a hard shove and you flinched when you felt the liquid of eren's drink splash onto your shoulder and shirt.

"eren— what the fuck!" you exclaimed, eyes turning towards you as you stared down at your shirt, hands open at your side, the feeling of the sweet liquid dripping down your back and down the cleavage of your breasts, the feeling steadily uncomfortable. the way the liquid seeped into your clothing wasted no time bubbling up your immediate anger. "dude," you were heated, standing up slowly. "y'all play too much!"

"eren look what you did!" hitch's eyes widened, her trying to refrain from laughing in the midst of her drunken state while eren and connie just stared at your rising figure in shock.

"yeah eren, look what you did." connie mocked earning a hard glare from eren who flipped him off.

"guys it's not funny." historia gave both of them a disapproving look before watching you walk off to the kitchen, an evident attitude in your step until you disappeared around the corner.

"and you wonder why she fucking hates you." jean scoffed with an agreeing nod from reiner, while jean finally clicked a random horror film that looked scary enough since his phone didn't give him good results, his irritation at the night going downhill not failing to grow.

"shut it kirchstein, that was connie's fault not mine."

"what? you're the one who had your drink above her like that. i was just playing with you, right sasha?" sasha shrugged her shoulders at connie until he pouted and she snorted, nodding her head. "see!" he exclaimed. "that wasn't my fault."

"it doesn't matter who's fault it is." historia let her hands out of armin's hair, crossing them. "she's clearly upset, and it doesn't help that eren has been messing with her all night."

"dude, what?" eren was baffled by historia's response.

"eren didn't do anything?" mikasa's voice came out in a more questioning manner, of course quick to defend eren in her monotone voice.

historia narrowed her eyes, not seeing how eren or mikasa couldn't see the fault in his actions. "me and hitch heard them arguing in the bathroom. i'm the one who told hitch to go get them to stop because jean was getting irritated."

"why was horseface getting mad?" eren rolled his eyes.

"because you guys are always arguing! that shit is annoying, she clearly doesn't like you eren so just stay out of her way." jean exasperated, resting his chin on his palm.

"do you have a crush on her or something, huh? we were just cool like last year, it's normal for us to argue at this point." eren's feeble attempt to defend himself clearly failed, both eren, jean and even armin looking upset with him.

"that doesn't mean anything, and no i don't. that's my best friend... so shut the fuck up." jean flipped eren off as well, trying his best to focus on the movie he aimlessly picked out.

"well she did the body shots with me? she was just fine seconds ago." and eren didn't mention how you didn't slap him silly for pushing you aside the door earlier, or how he delved in that memory a bit as well.

"because i told her to have fun and put up with your ass for the day. not everyone thinks you're the shit eren, and she definitely doesn't."

eren's irritation was rising, jean's likewise, and he huffed, laying back into the couch, putting as much space between him and connie as possible in clear anger that he was struggling to control, especially with being drunk. he became more reckless and obnoxious, and everyone knew so. yet he knew somewhere in the back of his head was that he was in somewhat of the wrong.

armin patted his head to flatten down any flyaways before speaking, "historia is right, eren. she's upset so go apologize— or at least help her out." sasha and connie nodded their heads in agreement.

another puff of breath from eren before he reluctantly got up, everyone's eyes on him making him uncomfortable. he rather be a around someone he didn't like (yet found attractive in the least) then be in an environment that wasn't fond of him at the moment.

eren rounded the corner until his eyes landed on your frame, sat on the edge of the counter desperately wiping at your top with vigor in efforts to dry it. you had at least got the sticky substance off your skin while your were working at it. you didn't even notice eren standing there, simply staring, not even knowing what to do now that his friends coerced him into the kitchen. he maneuvered over to the sink and that's when you noticed his tall figure, your face immediately twisting into an angered expression.

"what do you want now?"

eren turned around with a wet napkin and began coming over to you gingerly. he stumbled over, arm stretched out to begin patting at your top awkwardly with a grumble. "they told me to come and help you."

"eren get the hell off of me." you recoiled in panic and vexation, your hand flying up to shoo eren away.

"i'm trying to help you." he spit out, his breath beginning to get heavy, and you could smell the alcohol on it your nose twitching at the scent, but then again the smell of alcohol was still present on your shirt as well.

"i don't need your help." you rolled your eyes as he continued to try and wipe at your shirt stains. the gesture was... unlikely for him, maybe he was feeling guilt curdle inside him? although at the moment you didn't care, continuing to try to get him out of your vicinity and tend to the accident on you as well.

"can you just-" but you didn't give him a chance to finish, your frustration getting the best of you and your hand flying across his face. you didn't even register that you hit him until you saw the way his head flew to the side, tufts of his brown hair flying the opposite direction, the sound of the impact going in one ear and coming out the other just as fast.

he stood still for just a moment trying to process the stinging pain on his left cheek, his thoughts jumbled as the alcohol swam through his system. immediate regret began to dance its way up you as you watched the way anger twinkled in his eyes before he let out a small incredulous laugh. "oh... i'm sorry—" you gasped, and then flinched when eren's hand flew up to pin the hand that slapped him up against the cabinet door above the counter you were still perched on. "eren, what the fuck? let go of me," you struggled to get him to let his grip go, his eyes flickering from your face to the water like stains littered on your tank top, then to your legs; spread on either side of him as he stood in between them, his grip unconsciously tightening on your wrist. he went back up to be met with your timid expression that you tried to mask with the furrow of your brows although your lip still quivered, especially when met with the darkened look of eren's eyes.

"thought that shit was funny, yeah?" he mumbled lowly, shifting a little bit to get somewhat closer to your body as you watched him from above with bird eyes that darted from side to side to watch him cautiously.

you couldn't lie— you were a little scared, which frightened you that you were scared. you, the only one in your close circle that constantly picked at eren, constantly got into petty arguments with him, and weren't afraid to constantly call him out on the ridiculous things he would say... you were all of a sudden scared? maybe it was his demeanor, you thought to yourself, the way he didn't rise his voice up at you after you slapped him, much like earlier when you were yelling at him in the bathroom, the way he didn't shy away from a intimate game with you, the way he was looking you up and down like you were prey— it was all unusual, all frightening to you to see him move like that, not to mention the vice like grip he had on your poor wrists at the moment.

"eren," you whimpered, moving your hips in an effort to push him away, but your movements only amped him up. he moved your other wrist so that both of yours were gathered in his large hand, then placed his now free hand on the counter beside you. he didn't even realize the way he was leaning in closer and closer to your neck, until you cringed when you could feel his breath right on your shoulder, panic ensuing once more, especially regarding the fact that your shirt indeed had see through splotches on it, blame the liquid.

"you've been trying me all day..." he started, voice low and as if he was talking to your neck, not even looking up at you, his eyes trained to that same spot. "first you were running your mouth about me in the kitchen,"

he heard that?

"then you were getting all up in my face in that bathroom, and all those noises you were making when we were playing body shots..."

"eren, just let—"

"and then you've been walking around in those little ass shorts, and this top all night.."

you didn't think he was just talking about you upsetting him anymore.

eren's hand slid behind your body until his hand found your lower back, scooting you closer to his while maintaining his grip on your wrist, but pulling your hands away from the cabinets. he let his hips circle against yours so you could feel him. "you feel that?" he asked you, his lips now ghosting over the space between your shoulder and neck. "you did that."

what you can only describe as being some kind of shudder that made your body twitch had ran through you at the feeling of his lips connecting with your skin, the icky feeling of your shirt was barely prevalent with the emotions running through you, more specifically down to your core. his hips stopped meeting yours but his kisses continued upwards until he pressed one to your jaw, nibbling at the skin. "_____," he breathed out, his eyes still holding that dark haze when they met with yours as you looked down at him.

"let me fuck you good."

you were giving in.

you were giving in to the boy you supposedly hated, (in your head) you were giving in to all the arguments you ever had with him, you were giving in to the betrayal that your friends might feel when they find out about your endeavors but, god— if eren's dick straining his sweats didn't feel so good against you, or if his lips kissing up your neck and staying idle beside your lips didn't make you just want to turn your head and smash yours against his...

yup, you were giving in.

you turnt your head slightly so that eren's lips could collide with yours and he reciprocated immediately, finally letting go of your wrists and letting his other hand fall behind you to your ass so he could pull you flush against him, despite the still slight wetness of your shirt rubbing on his. your mouths tasted like all the alcohol from the night but it wasn't a big deal in your semi-drunken state.

eren tapped your ass to signal for you to wrap your arms around his neck and so you did, him sliding your body off of the counter and then all but throwing you over a little more so that your upper half was looking down at the floor behind while he held onto your legs, carrying you over his shoulder. "eren, put me down if you're gonna carry me like this i can walk normally!" you hissed loudly slapping his back making him chuckle.

"wouldn't you be embarrassed if everyone heard you about right now?" eren stopped in his tracks to give you a chance to quiet down before he left the kitchen, and you took that opportunity, mentally shrinking down in his grip out of somewhat chagrin.

eren's plan was to slip past the living room and go straight towards the stairs, as they were to the left of the living room, and unless the ones occupying it turned around they wouldn't be able to see the two of you, besides whoever was sat on the couch to the right. eren began walking out of the kitchen, and you prayed nobody was looking, your vision limited to only the floor below you.

you sighed when you felt your body rise a bit, meaning eren made it to the stairs, until you jolted at the sound of mikasa voice from her position on the couch, "eren—" but he cut her off quickly with a mere,

"we'll be back in a minute."

the trek up the stairs somewhat felt like forever to you, your stomach beginning to flip at the thought of being fucked silly by someone you deemed you hated, the mere idea was pretty outlandish to you, but you knew it was quite real when eren opened the door to a particularly blank room.

of course sat the bed and a nightstand on either side, but the room was lackluster, except for a few generic paintings in a couple corners of the room and a rug detailing the carpet. eren must've knew where to go since he was generally close to jean, having been even closer to him and his family during his middle school years.

eren wasted no time throwing you on the bed, your body hitting the surprisingly soft bedspread, and you almost felt bad for the wash it would have to go through when eren was done with you; because you knew he wasn't gonna be gentle.

he also didn't waste anytime stripping away at his clothes his shirt already strewn onto the floor and his pants halfway down his legs already, while you on the other hand were already hesitant to take off the messed up garment you were still wearing, and of course eren had to comment on this; "come on, you still wanna sit there smelling like whiskey? take off your shirt." you rolled your eyes at him and you swore you saw a smirk over his face when you began to pull your tank top over your head, now only sitting there in your undergarments and shorts, criss cross on the bed.

eren strode over and grabbed your jaw harshly, pulling you in for another drunken kiss, his other hand coming up to palm at your breasts while you measly reciprocated his kiss, it being more clashing teeth and tongue then anything. once his lips were removed from yours he let the thumb on your jaw swipe over your bottom lip, pulling it down to reveal your teeth before leaning back in and letting his own teeth nibble the skin beside your ear. "i want you to suck my dick." he said blatantly, looking at you once he pulled away. you would have never thought; as many times as the two of you would banter back and forth telling each other to 'suck my dick', never did you think there would ever be a day where he said it literally. "on the floor." his voice came out more like a command making you side eye him, and cross your arms.

"why should—"

"on the floor." he repeated, making himself comfortable on the bed he was sat on while you reluctantly slid off the bed to the floor in front of him, your hands on your knees while he pulled down his boxers, his cock slapping against his lower abdomen, sitting pretty. your eyes widened, you weren't sure what you were expecting; of course eren like many others bragged about his size in a joking manner but you never took him seriously, nevertheless did you take any of your guy friends seriously. he let out a small laugh at your expression before you realized you were staring for a little longer than you should have been. luckily, he didn't make another snarky remark, instead tapping your cheek with fingers that weren't wrapped around him, signaling for you to open your mouth. "open up." he repeated for the second time that night.

"that's your favorite line, huh?" you huffed, taking him into your hands. he ignored your comment and instead placed his now free hand onto the back of your head ushering you down his length with no caution, causing you to choke slightly, your hand flying up to his knees to steady yourself and push off in the slightest. you made sure your nails were digging into his skin in response, but you weren't sure if the feeling was even pervasive, as the only sound he let out was a groan when he felt his cock be engulfed by the heat of your mouth. the hand holding your head began gripping your hair and you winced at the newfound pressure although it was soon forgotten when eren began bobbing your head up and down, the feeling of your throat being used running through your whole body.

"yeah," he moaned out as you began finding your own pace, now taking one of your hands and wrapping them around what you couldn't reach; mainly so he wouldn't try to push your limits. "you're surprisingly good at this," he choked out, and he looked down at you to catch you glaring right back up at him, a clear grimace on your face.

you pulled away from his dick with a pop and began using your fist to pump him lazily, staring up at him with a bored expression. "you should really watch your mouth when i'm sucking you off." you retorted making him let out another one of his small chuckles and letting go of his grip on your hair for a second to run his fingers across your cheek, his thumb smoothing over your swollen lips once again.

"you wouldn't try nothing."

"don't count on it."

and once again his hand returned to your hair ushering you to take him back in your mouth and you did, but this time he was in more control, bucking his hips up into your mouth ardently and throwing his head back as you treated him and pushed him towards his high.

you couldn't help yourself, the feeling of eren using your throat so carelessly sent a plethora of emotions right to your core, and you let one of your hands drift past your shorts, rubbing yourself through your underwear and feeling how aroused you were, making you let out a small whimper around eren. he looked down at the sound and noticed you touching yourself, biting his lip and slowing his assault on your throat. "you're enjoying this aren't you?" he lifted your head up and a line of saliva was connected from his member to your bottom lip, making him smirk. "you dirty slut..."

you were in no position to deny it when you had your hands halfway down your pants, so you just rolled your eyes and connected your mouth back to his tip, giving a particularly hard  suck that made him hiss and his hips stutter. "you're lucky i'm even letting you touch yourself right now..." he groaned out. "now, make me cum."

and you followed through for the most part, going back down on him, letting your tongue work him up and through, while his head held you right where he wanted to until you felt his seed shoot into the back of your throat making you cough and pull away, swallowing it anyways.

eren panted out and let go of your hair, balancing himself on the bed while using his other hand to rub himself through his orgasm while you climbed onto the bed behind him, beginning to strip your shorts, eren's eyes following along to watch you pull the fabric over your legs and onto the floor and unclasp your bra, throwing it alongside your shorts. his gaze went down to the wet spot on your underwear and you didn't miss the way his tongue slipped overtop of his lips. "so you like it when i talk to you like that, hm?" he hummed, pulling up his boxers and shimmying his sweats the rest of the way off his own legs.

eren crawled between your legs, grabbing onto your ankles and pulling your forth so that your head hit the pillow and you were now under him, his hands making their way to your thighs, grabbing and palming at them harshly before making his way to the wet patch on your panties."i bet you can't wait until i fuck this little cunt of yours." he murmurs pressing his fingers against your clit making your legs squeeze around his sides, a small gasp eliciting from you.

you moved your hand down to try and help your relieve some of the ache inside of you but eren was quicker; grabbing your wrist once more and slamming into the bed, shaking his head at you while you lolled your head back and let your hips rise up in anticipation. "look how greedy..." he taunted.

"jesus, eren, do something if you're not gonna let me," you whined, jutting your hips into the air causing eren to snicker but begin to pull down your underwear anyways. you let out a breath of relief at the feeling of the cool air hitting your wet pussy, and that breath was brought right back, getting caught in your throat when you felt eren's fingers slide against your folds.

"you're so wet... if i knew i could get you like this i would've fucked you a long time ago." he finally slid a finger into you and you sighed deeply, but that one finger wasn't enough and eren's pace was tortuously slow.

"eren, please,"

"you're begging already?" he smirked down at you and continued to pump his one stupid finger in and out of you slowly and you whined, your hips moving up in down trying to make yourself feel more full. "beg me some more then, ask for another finger, and be nice."

you put an arm over your forehead and furrowed your eyebrows, looking angrily at eren. you knew you couldn't find for dominance with eren, especially with the way he was acting with you at the moment, but you didn't want to beg either; yet how else would you get your pleasure? you had to put your pride aside for a minute and beg. "eren, please."

eren scoffed and raised an eyebrow at you. "that's all? i could stop right—"

"fuck, eren, please add another finger, please?" you huffed, and eren rolled his eyes at you but added another finger making you groan and clench around the digits. "yes, yes..."

eren made himself comfortable, leaning down on the bed and positioning himself somewhat beside you, his palm supporting his head and your leg trapped underneath his armpit now, while he continued thrusting his fingers in and out of you until he curled them and made you buck your hips into the air. "uh huh, right there!" you yelled out when he hit your sweet spot.

eren moved his fingers away from the spot and continued his normal pace causing your hand to fly down grab his wrist. "eren, go back!" you cried out and he ignored your pleads.

"you can do better begging."

my god, what did he want from you?

"eren, oh my god, please just do that again."

"not good enough."

"eren—"

"you don't sound like you really want it."

this boy was gonna be the death of you.

"i want your fingers... please, hit that spot again," you twisted his wrist so his fingers would point upwards inside of you again. "right there, eren... please, for me?" you begged him, letting your hips grind down into his fingers and you almost choked out when you felt them hit that same spot. you were so close, you could feel that bubbly feeling in your stomach and your jaw dropped open, you were so close, you were so close you were—

he stopped.

he fucking stopped.

"eren!" you screamed your claws once again digging into his wrist with a sob. "why, why, i was almost there!"

"i know." he said blatantly, watching you squirm from beside him that same bored expression you had earlier detailing his face tauntingly.

"then go!" you sobbed and slapped at his upper arm repeatedly until you felt his hand back in your hair tugging harshly, your head jerking back and him now closer to your face. "please..." you felt like you were saying for the umpteenth time that night.

he leaned towards your ear, letting his hand loosen from your head. "talk to me nicely before i leave you here to get yourself off." he mumbled before letting his fingers continue to drive inside of you while your hips pushed down to meet them to build up that same feeling from earlier, this time eren not stopping until you let out a scream of his name, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and you creaming on his fingers, your juices coating them, causing a lewd sound to elicit as he pulled them out.

your chest heaved up and down as you tried to catch your breath, but you were quickly forced to breath through your nose when eren's wet fingers entered your mouth making you taste your own release. "suck," he told you, and you were too tired to try to do anything slick back, letting your tongue swirl around them and pulling off giving him the opportunity to come down and kiss you, slipping in his tongue quickly so he could taste you as well. "good job." he watched as your body still convulsed slightly from your orgasm but that didn't stop him from pulling you by your waist and flipping your body over effortlessly.

"'m gonna fuck you so stupid."

eren wastes no time pulling down his boxers for the second time and kicking them away while you raised your hips just wanting him buried inside of you as soon as possible. he came up behind you,  using his palm to push down your back some more until it was arched completely, running his hand back up your spine and giving your ass a good slap. he rubs his dick against your folds teasingly, waiting until you let out a whimper to push his head in slowly, both of you groaning simultaneously. "fuck," eren sighs, continuing to push himself in until he bottomed out. "so tight,"

eren begins to pull in and out of you slowly, getting used to the feeling of your walls wrapped around him, his face scrunched up in pleasure much likes yours, your hands gripping the sheets so tightly and you couldn't help but moan out eren's name. he snaked his hand up to your neck, leaning forward so he was pressed against your back until he pulled you up so you were flush against him. he began to pound into you more fervently, your ass clapping against his lower abdomen, the two of you moaning out together.

"shit," eren kissed your shoulder and bit down slightly harder making you wince against him and his hands tighten around your neck tantalizingly. "you like when i fuck you like this? when i use you like this?" his lips returned to the spot he bit, sucking a hard mark and then coming back up, pulling you against him harder while he fucked into you harder. you tried to suck in a breath but his grip around your throat was strong, so your jaw hung open no air coming in until you tapped eren's thigh causing him to release his grip so you could suck in a breath. he resorted to give you a break, his hand going up until they had you opening your mouth up so he could place his fingers in your mouth, holding it open and spitting into it making you whimper and clench around him. he pulled the digits out and let his hand trail back up your hair for the umpteenth time and pulling your head to the side so your neck was bare to him, letting him suck dark marks into your soft skin while he drilled you.

"cause you're a whore for shit like this, right? letting me spit in your mouth like that..."and the words coming out of his mouth made his hips stutter and groan, him finally letting your body fall back into an arch while he moved his hands to your hips and pulled you back on him while he fucked into you more, nails digging into your skin, and you could already see the bruises you would have the day after. the pleasure quickly was becoming too much, the feeling of eren's saliva sitting on your tongue, the way each one of his strokes his so deep inside of you, the way he treated you so roughly all had tears collecting in the corners until you were screaming for the second time that night, your hand gripping impossibly tight at the sheets and one flying backwards trying to find eren's thigh to grab at as well while your orgasm crashed over you again abruptly.

"eren!" you sobbed out letting eren pull the hand that was searching for his leg back so your head was slightly lifted off the bed, your breasts bouncing with each of his thrusts.

"fuck, 'm gonna cum.." eren panted, feeling your walls pulse around him as you came, soaking him even further. his forehead was sweaty and causing the flyaways in the front of his bun to stick to his forehead as well as his abs to glisten in the slightest from behind you.

"cum inside me..." you blabbered out, jaw still strung open from the pleasure flooding your body.

eren hissed as he felt himself climax as well, cumming inside you and filling you up, his movements stopping and his chest resting against your back, one hand on the bed to hold him up over you. once he was a little calmed he slid out of you and spread one of your cheeks to watch his cum attempt to drip out of you, but he stopped it, using his fingers to push it back inside of you, his mouth in an 'o' shape as he watched it, feeling himself already feeling hard again, and he still wasn't satisfied yet. "'m not done yet," he heaved out and watched as your hips fell to the bed. "one more round."

"am i that good?" you said with your finger pulling down your bottom lip as he dragged your hips down to the edge of the bed and turned your body over harshly. seeing your fucked out face in front of him was such a turn on, tear streaks down the side of your face, your lips swollen and a crease between your brows from eren's constant onslaught.

"shut the fuck up." eren slipped right back into you, feeling his own cum around him that he forgot about for a brief moment. he thrusts into you harder, making your body jolt repeatedly, your tits bouncing and him grabbing onto one, twirling his fingers around your nipple before grabbing at you breast hard making you hiss and grab his upper arm, dragging your nails down it.

"make me." you snapped back with your nail still embedded in his skin.

eren gave you a surprised look at your retaliation and snaked his hand around your throat once more. "you got some nerve talking to me like that when i just fucked your lights out."

you twisted your face and took it upon yourself to spit at him, your saliva landing on his cheek and he gave you a look of shock making you smirk at him until his eyes glowered over, his hand around your throat coming up to slap your face like you did to him earlier, and in the same manner your head flew to the side. luckily, he didn't slap you too hard but you could still feel the stinging sensation filling up the side of your face. "fuck is wrong with you?"

"fuck you!" you retorted as he wiped your spit on your sternum and slapped away the hand that was clawing at his upper arm.

"aren't you already doing that dumbass?" and he gave you a brief reminder, his hips bucking up into you harshly making you let out a gasp. "i guess you forgot."

you let your hand fly over your mouth when eren's cock brushed over that same spot from earlier as he lifted your hips slightly to try to get a deeper position in efforts to cum, but you were steps ahead of him; your stomach turning as his dick hit your g-spot again and again, your vision hazing over as you climaxed for the third time, no noise even coming from your throat, eren only knowing from the way your body began twitching and the way you clamped around him.

although, that didn't stop his pace, him essentially overstimulating you.

he rode you through your high and beyond, the feeling of your wetness around him mixed with his own cum edging him forward trying to reach his own high. the feeling of his pelvis rubbing against your clit once he lowered his hips had you trying to crawl away from the overstimulation as he leaned over you feeling how close he was. "_____..." eren puffed, leaning into your neck as he continued to drill into you. "god, 'm gonna cum again..."

you couldn't even respond, trying to keep in your own cries as tears streamed down your face again while eren groaned against your neck, the vibrations being felt through your chest. his hips stuttered once more but this time he pulled out, rubbing himself a few times until his cum sputtered onto your chest and stomach, another moan being let out from him followed by another large huff of breath before he collapsed onto the bed beside you. "god... _____." you couldn't even respond, your body still shaking slightly and your eyes closed while you continued to let out small snivels and whines. his eyes trailed over to you, looking at the dried tear stains on your face, the hickeys splattered across your neck, his cum painting your chest and stomach, the bruises on your hips, your swollen clit and puffy pussy, and his cum slicked near your entrance. "i fucked you up."

eren got up and in record time came back with a wet rag that you could care less about where he got it from. he wiped you up, the feeling of the warm water comforting you, your body finally calmed down. you sat up once he left the room once more and looked around, quickly realizing you couldn't put back on your dirtied shirt. you sighed and realized you would have to go back downstairs to grab one where your bag filled with your belongings was. eren came back in the room and grabbed your underwear and shorts for you, handing you the ladder and stuffing your panties into his pocket.

"what are you doing?" you asked looking at the undergarment hanging out of his sweats that he had put on earlier before leaving the room.

"keeping these." he smirked at you while you sat there with a pout.

"eren, i need those, i can't go down there... my bra and shirt are dirty and i need to grab clo--,"

"i'll go grab all your stuff for you."

"i still need my underwear." eren ignored you, shuffling out the room and heading back downstairs. once again, pretty fast, he came back in the room handing you your bag. "i'm gonna take a quick shower..." you looked up at eren who was still eyeing you, his eyes flickering to various parts of your still bare body. "are they awake?"

"everyone's knocked but armin, mikasa and surprisingly hitch, i thought she would've passed out by now. i'm pretty sure they heard us judging by the way they looked at me."

"oh..." you looked down at your bag and felt a little better about the confrontation you would have to face tomorrow. "...can you wait for me?" you asked hesitantly, eren's eyes gleaming at your question.

"yeah, i'll wait."

                                                          ❀ ❀ ❀

you were now changed out, eren having thrown the sheets and your clothes into jean's wash, which now gave you a good idea of how close he actually was to your friend, despite how much they argued much like you and eren. "you good?" eren asked, laying on the bed with a new pair of bedding on top, him laying on the duvet.

"yeah..."

"you sure? you're walking funny." you flipped him off and sat down on the edge of the bed beside him. "you ready to go back downstairs and pretend this never happened?" he asked you a slight edge to his voice even though you knew he meant it in a joking manner.

"wait, can we talk about all this first?" you turned your body to eren. "so are we still gonna pretend we hate each other or whatever? or are we cool now?"

eren pondered on your question for a minute. "depends, do you still want everyone to think we hate each other, or do you genuinely want to be cool? i mean i just fucked the sh--"

"eren, shut up." you cut him off quickly with a raise of your hand. "we can talk to the ones who are up right now because they're obviously gonna ask questions, especially hitch..."

"so what? everyone else is just gonna see us become buddy buddy?"

"we're obviously still gonna argue, eren, that isn't gonna change because of your ass... i just won't pretend i hate you so much."

"so you were pretending to hate me?"

"you're the one who wanted to fuck me."

"and you went along with it."

"this is why i hate you."

"i thought you were pretending?"

"i wasn't."

an awkward silence loomed over the two of you before you both burst out into laughter that died down quickly. "you're so stupid." you said before standing up. "c'mon, let's go."

as the two of you headed downstairs you first headed for the kitchen to drink some water before you were gonna knock out on the couch, hitch already in there bent over the sink.

"you okay?" you asked her as you headed for the fridge.

"no, my head hurts like crazy... i took a little nap and when i woke up my head was pounding."

"it was all that alcohol." you chuckled, plucking a cold water bottle from the fridge.

"yeah? and was it all that alcohol that made you go fuck jaeger? i mean i know i said he was cute... i think, but--"

"you heard that?" your eyes widened as you turned around towards her, a smile tugging at her lips.

"honey, i think we all did, half of us just tried to block it out with the movie."

you slapped your hand against your forehead, your initial plan to fall asleep on the couch then pretend nothing happened wasn't even available anymore.

"jean's gonna kill me." you muttered before opening your water bottle and taking a swig of the liquid that cooled your sore throat.

"yup, jean's gonna kill you." and you could only glare at hitch because, well... she was right.

"i'm blaming it on that stupid whiskey if he asks." you said before walking out the kitchen.

"you can't blame all your problems on alcohol!" hitch replied before you turned the corner with a shake of your head.

#eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger #eren yeager #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager smut #eren aot #attack on titan

[dadbodosamu]

what’s my name? [daddy]

Stepdad Osamu x Cis!Fem reader

WARNINGS: cheating, pseudoincest (stepdad/daughter), spanking, age gap (Osamu’s in his thirties and reader is freshly 18), daddy kink, spit kink, breeding kink

2.8k words. unbeta’d and vaguely edited

part one || part two || part three

“I can walk,” you say, slinging your bag over your shoulder. It’s your last year of high school, you’re an adult now, freshly eighteen, you can walk yourself to school, damn it.

“Let me drive ya,” Osamu says, grabbing the keys to his car. “Ya won’t let me make ya lunch anymore, let me at least drive ya to school. We can stop and get breakfast.”

“I can walk, Osamu,” you say, glaring at the older man.

Osamu stops dead in his tracks. “What was that? What did ya just call me?”

You scoff, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “You’re not my dad and I’m not a kid anymore.”

You grab the door handle but before you can open it, Osamu has you spun around, facing him. His face is dark and the grip he has on your wrist is bruising.

“O-Osamu, you’re hurting me,” you whimper, trying, and failing, to pull your wrist from his iron grip.

“There ya go again,” he says. He tuts and shakes his head. “Go sit on the couch. I have to make a few calls real quick.”

His tone leaves no room for argument, so you walk across the living room with all the shame of a scolded puppy.

Osamu is already speaking by the time you sit on the soft couch.

“Hi, this is Miya Osamu, Hanamiya Y/n’s father. She’s feeling a little under the weather today, so she won’t be able to make it in.” Osamu says. He pauses for a moment. “I’ll be around to pick her work up sometimes this afternoon, thank ya. Ya have a good day.”

Before you can speak, Osamu is calling another number.

“Hey, it’s Osamu. Y/n is sick today, so I need ya to watch over the restaurant. Call if there’s an emergency,” Osamu says. He hangs up quickly, and dials yet another number. “Hey, {mother’s name}, Y/n is feeling a bit bad so I’m going to stay home with her today.” He pauses. “It’s no problem, stay at work. If she gets worse I’ll take her to the doctor.” You can barely hear your mother on the other side of the phone, but you hear her small ‘I love you’. “Yeah, I’ll see ya after work.”

Hearing him so clearly dismiss your mother has you seething. You almost want to throw something at him as he hangs up.

“You’re such a dick,” you say as he walks towards you. “You don’t care about her at all. Fuck you.”

Osamu laughs as he sits in the chair next to the couch you’re on. “Fuck me? Oh, no, little girl. I’m gonna make ya regret those words. Come here.”

“Fuck you,” you repeat, crossing your arms.

“I’ll give ya until the count of three,” Osamu says. “One.” You don’t move. His face darkens. “Two. I’m not kidding, little girl. Come here. Now.”

His voice is more serious than you’ve ever heard it. A shiver runs up your spine as you stand without a second thought. You take a few steps until you’re standing directly in front of him.

“Good girl,” he praises. The words roll off his tongue like honey, and, unwittingly, your pussy throbs. “Now, bend over my lap.”

You nearly laugh. “No way, there’s no way. I’m not a child.”

“One.”

You’re bent over his lap before he gets to two.

“See, ya can listen,” Osamu says. His hand runs over your too short school skirt, flattening it down.

Your cheeks burn with humiliation. You can’t remember the last time anyone had you bent over their lap, much less Osamu, who preferred other punishments.

“Osamu, please, I’m sorry,” you whisper.

He lands a heavy hit across your ass, his large hand catching both cheeks.

You let out a loud cry as you jerk forward.

“That again,” Osamu says, shaking his head. “Ya know that hurts my feelings, little girl? Calling me by my name? Like I didn’t raise ya. Now, tell me why ya decided to hurt daddy’s feelings like that?”

Tears burn at your eyes. “I-I hate you!” You cry, tears spilling down your cheeks.

Osamu tuts and lands another heavy handed slap on your ass. “And why is that, little girl? Tell daddy what’s wrong.” He rubs your burning bum soothingly.

“Y-you’re mean to mom!” You sob. “An-and I hate you for it, Miya Osamu!”

Two consecutive slaps land on either cheek and you hiccup a sob.

“That’s where yer wrong, baby girl,” Osamu says, once again rubbing soothing circles on your bum. “Me an’ yer mom had an agreement. It’s not my fault if she gets her feelin’s hurt. She hasn’t said anything to me about it.”

You open your mouth to speak but cry out instead as Osamu spanks you three more times in quick succession.

“An’ anyway, that’s adult business,” Osamu adds. “No place for a little girl’s nose.”

“Osamu, it hurts,” you whine, squirming around on his lap. You freeze when you feel something hard poking against your stomach.

“There we go again,” Osamu sighs. He spanks you no less than five times, each harder than the last. Your body shakes from your sobs.

“Daddy, please!” You cry, tears and snot covering your face. “Please, I’m sorry!”

“There we go,” Osamu says, smiling widely. “That’s my good girl. What’s my name, again, sweetheart?”

“Daddy,” you whimper, sniffling. You rub your face with your sleeve as Osamu rearranges your body so you’re straddling his thighs.

“Daddy’s sorry for spanking ya, sweetheart. I know how my little girl gets sometimes,” he says, hugging you to his broad chest. “Ya get so bratty, daddy just can’t help himself.”

“‘m sorry, daddy,” you sniffle. You can’t help be be acutely aware of Osamu’s hard erection pressing against your sore ass. “D-Daddy, your...”

“What is it, baby girl?” Osamu asks, gently pulling you down, pressing his cock further into your plush ass.

You hiss in pain. “It-it hurts,” you moan.

Truth be told, it hurt so good. Each slap against your ass had your pussy clenching around nothing and now that you knew Osamu was clearly turned on... well it was making your heart beat faster.

“Want daddy to make ya feel better?” Osamu asks. He thrusts his hips smoothly, grinding his cock against your pussy.

You think about your mom. How heartbroken she would be if she found out about this and how your relationship would never be the same.

Osamu’s lips attach to the base of your neck and thoughts of your mother melt away.

“Daddy,” you moan, rolling your hips to feel more of him. “Daddy, please, I wanna feel better.”

“I know, baby, I know,” Osamu mumbled against your skin. “Daddy’s gonna make ya feel better, okay? Daddy’s gonna make everything better.”

Osamu lifts you easily. You wrap your arms and legs around him as he carries you to your room. You try not to think of the bedroom right across from yours that he shares with your mother.

Osamu tosses you on your bed and you immediately reach out for him.

“Wan’ you,” you whine, your hands grabbing at nothing.

Osamu pulls his shirt off and tosses it across the room before climbing on top of you.

“My little girl is so needy for daddy’s cock, eh?” Osamu asks, rocking his hips against yours. You moan and wrap your arms around his neck, lacing your fingers in his hair.

“Daddy, want your cock so bad,” you moan. He pulls back, drawing a long whine from your lips.

“Stop whining,” he orders. Long fingers come up to your shirt buttons, nimble as they unbutton each pearly white button, exposing the peach-coloured bra you were wearing.

Your cheeks burn, suddenly wishing you’d chosen matching underwear this morning, or at least something more mature.

“So cute,” Osamu coos, throwing your shirt away. “Yer so adorable, baby girl.” Osamu pushes your bra up over your breasts and leans down. He gently takes your left nipple in his mouth, rolling his tongue against it as he teases the other with his fingers.

“Daddy,” you moan, clenching your fingers in his hair. He pinches your nipple and grazes his teeth over the other.

“Cute little nipples,” he mumbles, leaning up and tugging on both nipples one last time. He presses a kiss between your breasts and trailed down, leaving soft kisses down your stomach until he reaches the hem of your skirt. He looks up at you.

You nod. “Please, daddy. I-I want you.” Osamu makes quick work of your skirt and pink panties.

He kneels between your legs, spreading them wide. “Look at ya, such a pretty pussy.”

Osamu arranged your bodies until he was comfortably facing your cunt. “I could just eat ya up, baby girl.”

“Daddy, I want you to touch me, please!” You cry as he teasingly runs his fingers through your wet folds.

“I am, baby,” he says, smirking wickedly.

“More! Want you to really touch me, daddy!” You say, impatiently bucking your hips up against his hand.

“Settle down, baby,” Osamu says, pushing your hips against the bed with his free hand. “Daddy’ll make ya feel real good, darlin’.”

Before you could say anything, Osamu rubs his thumb in a circle over your clit. Your words get lost in a moan. Your head falls back against your pillow as Osamu leans down. He presses a soft kiss against your inner thigh before wrapping his lips around your clit.

“Samu!” You cry, back arching off the bed as he inserted a single, long finger in your cunt, all the while suckling at your clit.

He landed a sharp slap to your thigh without pulling away. He adds another finger roughly.

“What’s my name, little girl?” He asks. He pumps his fingers in and out of you slowly.

“Daddy,” you whimper as he licks deep into your cunt.

“Good girl,” he praises before leaning back down. He scissors his fingers, slowly stretching your walls. He ate you out in earnest, switching between slurping up your juices and suckling on your clit.

“Daddy, ‘m gonna cum,” you moan, gripping the sheets below you.

“Cum on my tongue, sweetheart,” Osamu says, pulling his fingers out. He rubs figure-8s over your clit and fucks his tongue in and out of your throbbing heat.

“Daddy!” You cry as your orgasm hits you. You cum hard, juices squirting on Osamu's face. He continues rubbing your clit until you start squirming from overstimulation. When he looks up at you, his eyes are dark and his chin is covered with your cum.

“Tastes so good, baby girl,” he says, crawling over you. He grabs your chin and kisses you roughly, not even letting you attempt a fight for dominance.

The taste of yourself on his lips has you thrusting your hips up, eager for more.

“So impatient,” Osamu tuts. He grabs your chin again. “So you’ll take anything daddy gives ya, right, baby girl?”

You nod, desperately waiting for something, anything.

“Open yer mouth,” he orders. Your mouth falls open without a second thought.

You can see Osamu gathering spit in his mouth and you let your tongue loll out in excitement.

“My baby is so desperate,” Osamu coos. “Ya want daddy’s spit that bad, baby?”

You let out a pitiful whine and squeeze his forearm.

You moan when his spit finally hits your tongue. Your eyes close as you savour it for just a moment before swallowing.

“That’s my good girl, swallowing before I even tell ya too,” Osamu praises. “Tell me what ya want, sweetie.”

“I wan’ you,” you whine. You tangle your fingers in the back of his hair and pull him into a brutal, sloppy kiss. “Fuck me, daddy, please.”

Osamu pulls away from you, breathing heavily, lips swollen and eyes dark. He quickly kicks his sweat pants down and off the bed.

“Come on, use yer words,” he says. “What do ya really want, baby?” He uses one hand to trace his cock along your slit, teasing your clit and clenching hole.

“Want your cock in me, daddy,” you say, hooking your right leg around his waist, pulling his hips down to meet yours. “Please, I want it so bad.”

You bite your lip as your eyes burn.

“Aw, is baby gonna cry for daddy’s cock?” Osamu teases. He pushes the fat head of his cock past your folds. You moan loudly.

“Please,” you moan. “Want more.”

Osamu pulls your right leg up and over his shoulder and inches his cock in your wet heat. He moans lowly.

“So fuckin’ tight, baby girl,” he says. Your eyes water as his fat cock burns as he slowly stretches your walls out. “Fuck, look how well yer taking me, baby.”

You glance down to where your skin melds together. You let out a low whine once you realise he’s barely halfway in.

“More, more,” you whimper, rolling your hips up. Every movement has him hitting another spot in you that has you clenching around him.

“Gonna take it all? Gonna be my good girl and take my cock?” He grunts as he pushes deeper. By the time he bottoms out, the head of his cock is pressing against your cervix and your thighs are shaking from the stretch.

“Oh, daddy,” you sigh as he stills. He’s stretching you in a way no one has before, and the burn just adds to the pleasure.

“Yer so fuckin’ full of me,” Osamu says, marvelling at the bulge in your lower stomach. He presses down on it lightly. He moans. “Gonna fill ya up real good, baby. Gonna make ya swollen with my seed.”

“Move,” you moan. “Want you to fill me up, daddy.”

Osamu pulls out slowly. He tosses your other leg over his shoulder and grabs your hips tightly.

“Oh, baby, yer not ready for me,” Osamu smirks. Before you can ask what he means, his hips pound against your ass, his cock going even deeper than before. A moan rips from your lips.

“Daddy!” You call, digging your nails into his shoulders.

Osamu doesn’t slow as his fingers meet your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in small circles. Your walls clench around him as your first orgasm hits you suddenly.

“That’s it, sweetheart, cum on daddy’s cock,” Osamu says. His hips and fingers don’t slow down as you gush around his cock. His pace seems that much more brutal with your overstimulation.

“Hurts,” you choke out. Your thighs tremble as Osamu continues his bruising pace.

“You can take it, sweetheart,” Osamu says. “Yer such a good girl for me, darling.”

Tears roll down your cheeks as another orgasm racks your body.

Osamu’s eyes roll back as your walls milk his cock.

“Good girl,” Osamu rumbled. “Creaming around my cock so well.”

You cry as Osamu speeds up.

“S-so good, daddy,” you sob as he grabs your legs and spreads them wide. You cry harder as he fucks into your cervix. “Fill me up, please, daddy! Want you to breed me!”

“‘m gonna fuck ya so full of my cum,” Osamu grunts, pounding into you slower and deeper. “Gonna knock ya up. Ya want daddy to get you pregnant, huh? Wanna be swollen with daddy’s seed?” You nearly bite your tongue nodding.

“Want your cum, daddy,” you whine as your legs start to ache. A high-pitched whine fills the room as you cum yet again.

“Fuck,” Osamu swears, his pace speeding up again. “Gonna fill you up, sweetheart.”

His cock twitches inside you.

“Please, daddy, please. Want you to fill me up, breed me! Want your baby. Want your cum, need your cum! Please, fill me up, daddy!” You babble uncontrollably as Osamu’s hips stutter.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Osamu moans as he paints your insides white.

One last orgasm hits you as you milk his cock.

“Daddy,” you breathe as his cum fills you up. “So good.”

“Yer such a good girl, sweetheart,” Osamu says. He pulls out slowly.

“No, no,” you whine, clenching around nothing. “Want you to stay in me. Don’t wanna lose daddy’s cum.”

“It’s okay, baby, daddy’ll fill ya up over and over again,” Osamu says. He moves until his arms are wrapped tightly around you and you’re laid across his chest.

He hums with satisfaction as you trace your fingers across his chest.

“Ya were such a good girl, darling. Took my cock so well,” Osamu praised. “Yer daddy’s best girl.”

“Better than your other girls?” You ask.

“Yer the only girl I care about, sweetheart,” Osamu says. “I love ya, little girl.”

“I love you, too, daddy,” you mumble. You yawn.

“Let’s get you cleaned up before you fall asleep, baby,” Osamu says. He easily carries you to the bathroom, sitting you on the edge of the tub as he starts the water.

You frown as you catch sight of your mother’s robe and reality hits you.

“Oh, god,” you whisper. You look down at Osamu’s cum leaking out all over your thighs. “Oh my god.”

“What is it, sweetie?” Osamu asks.

“I’m gonna be sick,” you mumble, covering your mouth. “Mom’s gonna hate me.”

Oh, she’s really going to hate you in three months, when a small bump forms between your hips and you refuse to admit who the father is. Osamu’s smug face whenever it’s mentioned doesn’t miss you.

#miya osamu smut #miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #timeskip osamu #osamu miya smut #osamu miya #cai writes #tw:pseudoincest #tw:incest

[spilledkauffie]

Game Night

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Word Count: 2.2k T/W: fluff A/N: Part 2 of Bingo — a few months later

I am SO SORRY this took me way longer to post than it should have!

Bucky Tag List: @anreeixcobra ❤︎ @tsnelf7 ❤︎ @fandom-princess-forevermore​

It was Friday night, which meant one thing: Game Night. Ever since Yori introduced you at Bingo, you made it a tradition in your relationship to play board games on Fridays. For the most part you kept it to fairly modern games, but tonight was going to be a surprise.

Tonight it was your place, 8 o’clock. Bucky showed up with a six pack of root-beer in glass bottles. You added a few to the fridge as he found his usual seat at your apartment table. He waited for you to round the small apartment’s bar and join him. Sliding the glass bottles across the table to Bucky, you smiled, biting in your bottom lip, as he slid your bottle back, now without its top.

Easily he popped the top off his own bottle with his left hand; it was as he was about to take a sip that he caught sight of your look, “what?” he furrowed his eyebrows, questionably. 

“So. . . tonight,” you tried not to giggle.

“What?” Bucky asked again, this time finding himself following your smile despite his will not to.

“Tonight is going to be special,” you clasped your hands together, “because I found some stuff that’s as old as you.”

“Wow, thanks,” Bucky said sarcastically, taking a sip, shaking his head, blinking softly as he saw you rush to convince him it would be fun. Sighing deeply, he gave in, “alright, what is it?”

“I’ll be right back,” you twirled on your heel and left the room.

Returning to shaking his head and the glass bottle, he paused after settling the bottle on the table. It’d been a long time since anyone cared about anything actually as old as him. He’d been pretty good at keeping up with the times, a lot of things he knew just got an upgrade, but the thought of something from his actual childhood felt a little heartwarming. 

“Okay,” you declared, reentering the room with a stack of vintage boxes in your arms that made Bucky lean back in his chair out of shock, “here we are.” 

His jaw dropped a little at what you had brought out as you set the stack on the table. Watching you take a deep breath and exhale with a smirk, he shook his head, this time silently asking “how?” You set your hands atop the stack, rapping your fingers across the top box as you smiled again. 

Smoothing your hands out across the box top, you cleared your throat, “no peeking,”  bringing Bucky’s attention entirely to you. 

“Option number one,” you held up the rectangular shape with severely faded letters across it, “Scrabble, released 1938.” The box very gently met the table, “option number two,” you looked at him attempting not to giggle as you saw him cross his arms over his chest, genuinely listening to you intently, “Sorry! released 1934, Battleship, original pen and paper game,” you clarified, he lifted his eyebrows, impressed, “and last but not least, Monopoly, released 1935.”

“Wow, you uh- you really did your research,” he commented, looking over the stack of authentically vintage boxes.

“Of course,” you shrugged with a smile, “my boyfriend’s 106, if I want to bring back some childhood nostalgia, that requires some research. . . and late hour ebay bidding in our case.”  

He nodded, a faint smile showing, before it faded with his next words, “I hope you didn’t do too much research on me,” he looked up, hand resting on Monopoly.

You calmly slid down into the seat across from him and stared with a kind smile still on your lips, reaching to touch his hand, you stroked your thumb against his knuckles, “I’m more of a first hand account, direct source, kind of girl when it comes to people,” the corner of his mouth tugged into a smile. 

You knew, just not everything, and he wasn’t sure he was prepared to have another living soul know it all quite yet. Luckily, you were someone who seemed to actually understand that.

“Or,” you announced, lifting a pointer finger, as if requesting a pause whilst you went to a nearby drawer, returning with a much smaller box, “we can get really really old school, even for you” the box met the table top, “standard 52 card deck, English edition, circa 1516. . .obviously not original.”

Bucky chuckled, looking to you, tonguing his cheek, before picking up the cards, “I hate to tell you, but that’s just a little before my time,” he squinted at you, teasingly.

Biting your lip, your shoulders shifted with the giggle that came after his comment, “so, come on,” you sat back down, this time with your elbows on the table and hands laced, to support your resting chin on top of them, “what should I beat your butt in?”

“Oh,” Bucky, attempting to appear insulted, began raising his eyebrows, “you think?”

“Yeah,” you laughed your words while looking at his serious face, “I think, better yet, I know.”

“Well, I don’t know where you get your confidence from. You know you are talking to a local senior Bingo night champion,” he shrugged with a head tilt, as if that was supposed to be a big deal.

“Woooow,” you drew out, smiling uncontrollably.

“But,” he sighed, “okay,” he shook his head once, accepting your challenge, “let’s go, you’re on! Monopoly,” he brought the box towards himself as you set the others on the floor next to your chair.

You watched as he picked up the little metal pieces, examining each one individually. There was an expression you’d never seen before, he was remembering something positive from his past. A memory that sparked a smile that you helped bring about. He surveyed the board, with all its bright colours and familiar street names.

“It’s been-” he paused, looking upward, doing the math in his head, “it’s been 85 years since I played this game,” setting each piece he stopped at the boat, laughing to himself, “you know, Steve used to always be the battleship.” 

A soft smile came across your lips, while you watched him remember exactly how to set it up. You picked the Scottie dog and he picked the vintage race car piece.

“Were you always the race car?” you ventured, wanting to know more about his childhood, you knew he didn’t talk about it often.

“Oh,” he glanced to the piece he had just naturally picked up without a thought, “yeah, well, I think,” he gave a quick, but somber smile, before clearing his throat, and actually looking up, “and my sister, whenever she’d actually manage to get mom and dad to let her stay up with us, she’d always be the thimble,” he leaned back in his chair, smiling, “whenever it was her turn to move she’d put it on her finger and hop it down the street names.” He leaned back to the table, “we never made her go to jail, even if she landed on it, Steve would make up some rule that let her skip it.” 

“That’s really sweet of you guys,” you said, looking softly at his smile.

“Yeah,” he swallowed, “but don’t think you can skip jail,” he changed his tone, preferring not to dwell on the past even if it was positive. 

“Don’t think I’ll be visiting,” you smirk confidently, “better watch out for the money man yourself.” 

“Wow, who is this?” he dropped his jaw, “she’s so sarcastic, does Yori know this side of you? Do you sneak jellybeans under the table or something evil like that?”

Laughing, you took your root-beer, “just give me my $1,500 so the smack down can actually begin.”

Two hours later, after a long battle between Boardwalk, control over the railroads, and many, many visits to jail, you sat back, lips quirked, arms across your chest as your little Scottie sat in jail.

“And three thousand, six hundred, and five. . . I’m sorry, but that leaves you,” Bucky set his elbows on the table, wincing at you, “bankrupt.”

“Fine,” you huffed jokingly, giving your best pout,“you win.”

“Aww, c’mon,” Bucky reached out a hand to touch your forearm comfortingly, accompanied by a smile you couldn’t deny.

“You wanna go again?” You offered seriously, resting your hand on top of his tenderly, happy to see him so happy.

“It was really fun, but let’s play something else, this time you pick,” he offered.

Breaking into a smile, you gave a nod, and he asked what you had in mind. It took a moment, you wanted to make this good, and you wanted to see it be a little more of a struggle for him, if you were honest. 

“You know, I know it’s later than your. . .original timeline, but there’s this fantastic game called Twister,” you smirked, perking an eyebrow to ask if he was up for it. 

“Twister?” He repeated you, tilting his head like a confused puppy, “what’s Twister?”

“I’ll show you, but,” you glanced over to your small apartment living room, “we might need to arrange the furniture a little.”

“Don’t worry,” Bucky stood, “I can handle that.” 

Smiling, you stand, “okay, just push it all to one side, I’ll get the game.” 

Ten minutes later, shoeless, you both stood looking over the polka dotted sheet on the floor. Nodding happily to yourself, Bucky shook his head almost in fear. 

“Make sense?” You asked, having just explained the very simple rules, you turned to face him.

“Oh, I’m sorry I asked,” he sighed, shouldering off his jacket and tossing it onto the couch along with his glove, “yeah, it makes sense,” he set his hands on his hips, pondering this new game intently. 

“Okay, you first,” you held up the spinning arrow, and began.

One hand and foot at a time, sometimes struggling to reach the spinner, but you both made it work pretty well. Having kept to one side of the sheet, it came time to get a smidge more twisted.

Bucky managed to keep balanced and spin a green dot with his left arm, conveniently it placed him right over you. As he began to reach for green, he carefully calculated how best to approach the green dot in order to keep his balance. It was a pretty far reach and he’d need to balance himself whilst reaching over you. 

“What’s the matter old man, can’t quite move like you used to?” you shamelessly giggled. 

Raising his eyebrows at your tone, “ohhh, wow,” Bucky said sincerely, finally placing his left arm over you and to a green dot, now above you he tilted his head sassily, “respect your elders.”

His last sentence only made your giggle turn into a genuine laugh. You closed your eyes and threw your head back a little. Admittedly, Bucky thought it was funny too, but he didn’t laugh, he just took in your smile and the sound of your laugh, enjoying every single moment of it.

When you brought your head back up, you were about to respond sassily, but instead you found his lips meeting yours. With a small squeak of surprise, you relaxed into the kiss, glad that he was finally confident enough with you to take a chance now and then. He tasted like vanilla root beer, which mixed wonderfully with the scent of his cologne you were finally close enough to smell. 

It was soft and slow at first, but slowly, with his right hand palming the arch of your back, you eased into his touch, lower back almost meeting the floor as you both sunk down a little. You completely forgot about the game, as you reached your arms around his neck gently. Keeping the kiss close, you felt him hesitate to deepen it, so you gave him a small sign of encouragement, by moving your hand to the side of his neck, naturally bringing him even closer. 

You had no idea how long you’d been there, on that polka dot sheet, but it was such bliss that you didn’t even care. Smiling into the kiss, you felt him smile back. 

Parting, he pressed his forehead to yours, “I win,” he whispered, lips in a smile. 

“What?” was all you could ask, still mesmerised by the kiss. 

Bucky motioned his head to his left arm which happened to have been keeping the two of you steady. . . all the while remaining on the green dot. You dropped your arms from around his neck, to the floor, elbows supporting you as you looked up at him, shaking your head. 

“That does not count, Bucky,” you tried not to smile as he kept his arm as still as possible.

“What? But my hand’s still on green,” he dramatically gestured to it, making you bite your lip to repress a giggle, trying to match his seriousness.

Shoving his chest directly above you, he feigned an ‘ow!’ before you softly pull him closer again.

“If I kiss you are you gonna hit me again?”

You smirk, “I might if you don’t.” 

Bucky smiled, lips almost touching yours, “alright, sorry,” he smiled, voice almost a whisper as his lips brushed against yours, “I’m still learning the rules to this game.”

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[seijorhi]

No Strings Attached

A commission for the lovely @hearteyes-candyskies, hope you like it bby! 💕

Bokuto Koutarou x female reader

TW Age gap, power imbalance, manipulation, toxic behaviour, nsfw(ish)

Three months ago, you would have laughed at the very idea of having a sugar daddy. 

Then again, three months ago you were still living with your boyfriend and had a steady paycheck coming in every week. You can blame losing the latter on bad luck and an asshole boss, but the former-

You knew your relationship with your ex was far from perfect, but coming home from losing said job to find him buried balls deep in your next door neighbour was a bit of a slap in the face. 

Needless to say, in the space of a few days you were out a job, a boyfriend and an apartment. Which, somewhat inevitably, led to you being six wines deep, slumped over your best friend’s bed, sobbing over the wreckage of the life you’d built, suddenly ripped out from beneath you.

You can’t really remember whose idea it was, only giggling drunkenly between yourselves as Misuzu set up your ‘sugar baby’ profile. “Shh, no this is gonna be great,” she’d said, hitting at the hands that tried to grab back your phone. “Meet some hot rich old dude, ride a little dick, let him shower you in cash; all your problems? Poof, sorted!”

And even with the heady, rose tinted haze of your wine fuelled inebriation, you knew that it was just a joke, a bit of stupid fun born more out of an attempt to cheer you up than a viable plan to get the tattered remains of your life back on track. Calling some old creepy dude ‘daddy’ and pretending to love him (not to mention the whole letting him fuck you thing) just for a little money wasn’t exactly your idea of a good time.

Plus, you were fairly sure that you weren’t what most people had in mind when they thought ‘sugar baby’. It wasn’t ever meant to be anything serious, just dumb, drunken fun with your friend.

So when you woke the next day a little after mid morning with a head full of regrets and a pounding headache, the last thing you expected was to find a message from BigDaddyKou82 waiting for you, better sense told you to ignore it.

Honestly, you didn’t really want a sugar daddy, your love life was enough of a mess without throwing in a power imbalance like that.

You should have ignored the message, deleted it or shot him a quick reply politely explaining that you weren’t interested so you could put it out of your mind, and you would have-

If Misuzu hadn’t caught sight of the message first, snatching the phone out of your hand with a gleeful shriek. 

—

If you’ve learned anything in these past months, it’s that Bokuto Koutarou doesn’t do anything by half measures. So when he tells you he’s booked dinner for the two of you at an upscale restaurant in the city, you should have expected the package that’s hand delivered right to the door of your shitty little apartment. The dress is beautiful, expensive - though you could tell that just from the elegant matte black box wrapped in golden ribbon it arrives in. It’s exactly his style; short, revealing and just dancing along the edge of impropriety, not that that’ll bother him in the slightest. 

But it is gorgeous, and loathe as you are to admit it, it flatters you well.

It’s not the first time that he’s bought you clothes, your tiny closet’s almost overflowing with pieces he’s gifted you. He likes seeing you in the things he’s bought, sometimes a little too much, you think. But you’ve learned it’s better just to go along with it - he gets this wide eyed, beaming grin whenever he sees you dressed in the pretty things he’s bought you, and the sight of it never fails to make your cheeks heat, warmth curling in your stomach. 

The dress was not unexpected. The soft, lacy lingerie that comes in the accompanying box, on the other hand - that was new.

And of course, you barely have time to unwrap your gift when your phone flashes to life, an incoming call from the man himself.

“D’ya like it?”

The giddy excitement in his voice is unmistakable, and if you close your eyes you can picture the look on his face - golden eyes all hooded and hungry, that glittering, eager grin he wears when the two of you are out in public but his mind’s occupied with all the filthy, wonderful things he wants to do to you the moment you’re alone. 

Not that he’s ever that patient. 

“Um, it’s…” Fingers tentatively reach into the tissue paper, pulling the sheer, lacy bra out, warmth blossoming in your cheeks. The matching panties - a tiny scrap of lace held together with bows and thin black straps - really aren’t much better. Like the dress, the lingerie is clearly well made, probably cost more than your weekly rent, and the delicate set is arguably gorgeous (you can’t even argue his taste), but–

“You’re gonna wear it for me tonight, right, baby?” 

It’s not really a question; of course you will, because you always do. You would have thought by now that you’d be used to the gifts he showers you in. 

“Yeah, but Kou, you really didn’t have to spend all this money on me. Dinner’s enough,” you tell him, setting the lingerie back down. 

Dinner, and everything else for that matter. 

A chuckle echoes down the line. “But I like spoiling my girl. Like buying you pretty things,” his voice dips, “like tearing ‘em off you afterwards, too.” 

And despite all the apprehension curled up inside of you, a shiver of excitement runs down your spine. 

—

“So…” Misuzu pushes, leaning across the countertop with her chin resting on her palm and looking entirely too pleased at your discomfort.

“He… asked me to meet him.”

Her eyes widen, sparkling in delight as she gasps, “For dinner?”

“For a drink - one drink,” you clarify. You elect not to tell her that he’d initially tried to sway you into dinner, and it was you who’d talked him down to a drink. Truthfully, you’d probably feel more comfortable getting coffee, but meeting at a bar was fine.

One drink, and if things got awkward or he turned out to be a creep you’d be out of there in a heartbeat. 

“Oh my god!! My baby Y/N, all grown up and manipulating old, lonely men for money. I’m so proud,” she wipes a fake tear from her eye and bursts into a fit of giggles.

A crinkle appears between your brow as you frown at her, “He’s not even that old,” you grumble, “and it’s not like that. You know it’s not.”

“No?” she asks, her lips curling into a teasing smirk. “You know, for somebody who was so against me messaging your soon to be sugar daddy, you sure move quickly.”

She laughs at the glare you shoot her way. “You were the one who started this.”

“Mhm, and you were the one who didn’t stop it. Funny that, don’t you think?”

She looks like the cat that ate the canary; smug, glittering amusement written all across her face. And you hate, more than anything, that she’s right.

Because you’d meant to put a stop to it the moment you managed to wrestle your phone back from her. Afterwards, you’d blame the lingering hurt of having your heart broken, the insecurities and bitter humiliation that plagued you, the feeling that you weren’t good enough to stop your boyfriend from straying for making you so pathetically vulnerable and desperate for approval - but when you opened the chat instead of the sleazy come on’s you expected, his first message makes something inside of you flutter, warm and pleasant.

Holy crap, you’re beautiful.

Not exactly a sonnet from Shakespeare, but you can’t remember the last time any guy, much less your ex, called you beautiful. 

It didn’t exactly hurt that instead of the aging, creepy looking letch you were half expecting, the profile picture showed a rather fit, attractive man in a crisp, black suit with silvery grey streaked hair and an easy grin. Of course, it was a fifty-fifty chance that the pic wasn’t even him, or if it was then it was outdated or heavily edited, but it was enough to make you pause.

Enough to make you… curious, if nothing else.

But ridiculously attractive or not, you weren’t going to lead him on. If he wanted some pretty, simpering thing to fuck and throw money at, to call him daddy and be his sweet, obedient little girl - that wasn’t you. You’d explained that you weren’t really sure if this was your thing, that you probably weren’t what he had in mind, but surprisingly he hadn’t been put off by that.

Well what’s the harm in finding out for yourself? Maybe you’ll like it more than you think ;)

—

There were rules, when you started - lines you both agreed wouldn’t be crossed.

First and foremost, while it wasn’t exactly a conventional relationship - at least, not the kind you were used to - it was still a relationship of sorts, and there was an expectation of honesty in lieu of absolute exclusivity. You’d tell him if you were seeing anybody else, and Bokuto would tell you the same. Considering sex was on the table, it made sense.

You swore right from the beginning that you wouldn’t allow yourself to become financially dependent on him - you knew all too well that relationships were fickle things to begin with. That kind of dependency was half the reason you were in this position in the first place, and you wouldn’t - couldn’t - let that happen again. That didn’t mean that the arrangement wasn’t transactional. After a few initial meetings that went better than you expected, the two of you came to an agreement; a nice little sum of money he’d deposit weekly in your account in exchange for you being there when he wanted you. Dinner dates, skype calls when he’s travelling, spur of the moment weekends away in expensive hotels - whatever he wanted... within reason.

The thing is, despite his flaws - the little funks he gets into, his immaturity despite the age gap between you, the way he clings to you, mopes if you don’t pay him the attention he wants - you genuinely like Bo, he’s oddly endearing. Loveable, even. He reminds you a little of a puppy; eager for affection, bright and boisterous with boundless energy (and enviable stamina). He’s sweet and adoring and funny and he has this uncanny ability to make everything else fade away when you’re with him, to make you feel like you’re the only woman in the room, beautiful and perfect and entirely his-

But that didn’t make him your boyfriend. 

You weren’t lovers, and whether it was in two weeks or two years, you both knew this arrangement had an expiration date. And because of that, there were no strings attached. At any point, either one of you could end it without an explanation - no questions asked, no feelings hurt. 

—

Truthfully, you don’t know an awful lot about Bokuto’s line of work, only that his position within the company is senior enough that he can move around his schedule pretty much as he wants, leaving him free to see you whenever he likes. 

Which wasn’t a problem when that was once or twice a week. 

“Sorry, Koutarou, you know I can’t. Maybe tomorrow?”

The petulant whine that echoes down the phone fills you with an odd sort of  guilt. “Why not? You said no on Friday, too,” he pouts. “I miss you, baby. Wanna see you again.”

You shove down the faint, flickering unease that nudges at your gut. You’re not his girlfriend, and you find yourself wondering whether or not he sometimes deliberately lets himself forget that.

Nibbling at your bottom lip, you frown, “I told you I have work today. It’s too late for me to try and find someone to cover my shift, and if I call in again-”

You can kiss your job goodbye. You’re already on thin ice with your boss, and it’s not like new waitresses are hard to find these days. 

“Well… what time do you finish?” he asks, his voice thick with dejection, as if he already knows what your answer’s going to be.

You bite back a sigh, “Late. I’m on close again.”

The short silence on the other end of the phone is deafening. “… I’ll come pick you up afterwards.”

This time you can’t stop the soft sigh that escapes, “Kou, I’m gonna be exhausted, I won’t be any fun to be around.”

“Still wanna see you. You’re always working,” he grumbles. “Feels like you don’t have time for me anymore, baby.”

Slowly your eyes flutter shut, and you take a deep breath. It always comes back to this. “I need this job, baby. We’ve talked about this… I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? I have the whole day off, I’m entirely yours.”

“All mine, hm?”

You smile, “All yours, promise.”

He hums in acknowledgement, not entirely happy, but temporarily placated. “Fiiiine. But I’m holding you to it.”

As if you expected any less. “I have to go get ready for work. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“I’ll see you later,” he promises, and you hang up a moment later. 

When he said that, you assumed that both of you were on the same page as to what ‘later’ meant.

Three hours into your shift, you hadn’t expected to return from the kitchen to find a grinning Bokuto lounging in one of your booths.

“He asked for you specifically when he came in,” one of your coworkers tells you, shooting you a playful wink. “Didn’t know you were into silver foxes, Y/N. But I can’t say I blame you, he’s hot!”

“Yeah, thanks,” you mutter distractedly, glancing over your shoulder to check your manager wasn’t watching before making your way over.

The smile on your face is tight as golden eyes flicker towards you. “Bokuto,” you begin quietly, “what- what are you doing here?”

An odd look passes across his face at the use of his family name, but the smug grin remains. “You said you had to work tonight,” he says with a cavalier shrug, as if that explained everything. 

“Yes, because I’m working! Kou, I need this job, I can’t-” you break off with a huff, darting another glance over your shoulder. Thankfully, your manager’s busy berating your co-worker for a screwed up order and hasn’t noticed your absence yet.  

Taking advantage of your distracted state, Bokuto reaches across the table to take your hand in his, his thumb stroking back and forth along the back of your palm. “Hey, hey, relax. You’re here to work, I get it, baby. I’m just here for some food, cross my heart,” he swears, drawing an imaginary X over his chest with his finger.

Gently tugging your hand back, you ignore the hurt little pout he gives you. “So you decided to drive twenty minutes across town just to eat here?” you ask, trying to keep the exasperation from colouring your tone. 

He shifts a little in his seat, cheeks flushing a dusty pink under your narrowed stare. “… Well, maybe I wanted to see my pretty girl, too,” he admits, “But I swear I’ll be on my best behaviour!”

Somehow, his words don’t fill you with confidence, but what are you supposed to do? Kick him out? Snap at him for coming despite the fact you told him not to? Taking a deep, steadying breath through your nose, you force yourself to relax. Bokuto’s not hurting anybody by being there, and so long as he keeps his hands to himself, so long as he behaves, it won’t be an issue.

He’s a paying customer, and you’ll treat him just like you would anyone else who walked through the restaurant’s doors.

Yet despite trying to reassure yourself of that, you can’t escape the niggling sense of unease sitting in the pit of your stomach. Even if he’s the perfect gentleman tonight, the perfect stranger, you’ve worked hard to keep your boring day to day life and the one you’ve created with him in nice, neat, separate boxes. Bokuto hasn’t met your friends or your family and outside of Misuzu they don’t have a clue about your arrangement with your attractive if somewhat clingy benefactor.

You don’t want them to know.

Him being here threatens that - it makes you nervous.

But you’ve been with Bokuto long enough to know that you can’t tell him that without hurting his feelings, and you definitely don’t have the energy to deal with that tonight. It’s a conversation for another day.

Instead, you allow a small smile to tug at the corners of your lips, “You know the food’s pretty average here, you might be disappointed.”

Bokuto grins again, mischief sparkling in those golden eyes, and your traitorous heart skips a beat. “Yeah, don’t think that’ll be a problem,” he leans in closer, “I’m far more interested in what’s for dessert.”

Warmth floods your cheeks as he snickers. 

—

For the most part he keeps his hands to himself, but you can’t quite bring yourself to relax when you can feel those golden, hungry eyes burning a hole into your back as you move around the restaurant serving other customers.

You pretend you don’t see the scowling glower he sends to the harmless office-worker who spends a good forty five minutes flirting with you every time you go over to check on his table.

Bokuto orders enough food to feed a small army and stays until close, leaving a more than generous tip on his way out. 

It goes without saying that he waits for you to finish up. The moment you slip out the door, calling out one last goodnight to your coworker, he’s on you, pushing you up against the brick alleyway wall, hiking your legs up over his hips as his mouth attacks yours, greedy and eager, swallowing up any and all protests you might’ve had.

He doesn’t take you home like you ask, but back to his penthouse suite, and neither of you get much sleep that night.

—

You’re halfway through washing your hair a few days later when your shower head splutters once… twice… and stops completely. 

A blockage in the plumbing, your landlord informs you rather apathetically. It’s affecting the whole floor and it’ll take at least a day or two to get somebody out to fix it properly, leaving you without running water for the entirety of that time.

In hindsight, there were at least three other people you could have (and probably should have) called first, but he’s already answering the phone before the thought even occurs to you. 

And then it’s too late to backpedal. You find yourself grateful that he can’t physically see the way you flush and fidget, pacing around your living room as you awkwardly try to explain the reason you’re calling at ten in the morning. 

“Would, I mean, i-is it okay if I come over to use your shower? Just for this one time, mine kind of got interrupted this morning.” 

God, from the way you stutter, stumbling over your own tongue, you’d think you were asking him to marry you. You’ve spent the night at his countless times before, but asking for a favour, even a small one like this - maybe you’re toeing an unwritten line in the sand? Bokuto isn’t with you because he loves you, he’s with you because it’s mutually beneficial for both of you, because of an agreement. 

He wants fun, easy, not you saddling him with minor inconveniences. Calling to ask him to come save you, albeit from something as mundane as a lack of access to a functioning shower, feels like something you’d ask your boyfriend to do. 

Not your sugar daddy.

But just as you’re about to backtrack and apologise for interrupting his morning, he speaks. “What d’you mean? Just come stay with me till it’s fixed.”

He says it with such certainty, as if it’s the most obvious solution and for a moment you’re stunned into silence. “A-are you sure? I don’t want-'' Don't want what? To be an inconvenience? A problem? “I don’t want to be in the way,” you finish lamely.

Bokuto just laughs, “Don’t be stupid, baby, of course you won’t be in the way. Just swing by the office and I can give you the keys. Or I can just get you another set made? I don’t know, we can figure it out later. I’ll see you soon, ‘kay?” 

And you have to admit, as apprehensive as you were stepping into his penthouse alone for the first time, showering in Bokuto’s fancy ensuite bathroom (which you’re fairly sure is bigger than your actual bedroom) is a hell of a lot nicer than doing it at home. The lotions he has are all expensive brands with french names you’ve never even heard of before, but they smell amazing and they leave your skin feeling all soft and silky. Even the shampoo he’s bought for you to use is far nicer than the one you have at home, though you’re secretly pleased that its scent’s similar - your favourite, actually. 

Did he buy them knowing that or was it just a coincidence, you wonder. You never thought to ask. 

Without work, or Bo for that matter, to occupy your time, you decide to take advantage of his gigantic TV, opening up Netflix and settling into his ridiculously comfortable couch… 

… And wake, a few hours later to the feeling of fingers carding through your hair and a pair of lips pressing against your cheek. 

Bokuto’s home, you realise with a start, and there’s drool on your chin. Face burning with embarrassment, you hastily wipe it away with the back of your palm and try to sit up, only for Bokuto’s hand to wrap around your wrist, halting you in your tracks.

“No, don’t get up, baby,” he says, easing down onto the couch beside you and shifting your head onto his lap so he can continue threading his fingers through your hair. “I like coming home to this.”

Still half asleep, curling up and nuzzling further into those warm, thick thighs of his, you miss the intensity of the adoration burning in golden depths as he coaxes you back to sleep.

—

The two of you are in bed, your cheek resting on his chest, his arm slung over your waist and knuckles brushing idly along your side, when Bokuto breaks the comfortable silence. 

“Move in with me.”

You tense in his arms, heart skipping a beat. For a split second, you’re almost positive that you misheard him. “I-I’m sorry?” You push yourself up onto your elbow, turning your head so that you can look at him properly.

But Bokuto doesn’t miss a beat. “Move in with me,” he repeats, golden eyes bearing down on you.

The expression on your face is frozen halfway between disbelief and hysteria, and you’re staring at him, waiting for that stupid grin to break across his face, for him to laugh and tell you how ridiculous you look, because of course he’s joking.

He’s joking, right?

“Koutarou,” you begin slowly, “Wha- I don’t… Why would you want me to move in with you? We barely- I mean, we’re not…” 

He shrugs his shoulders, “Why wouldn’t I? It makes sense. My place is bigger and nicer, and I like having you here with me. Feels right.”

It feels right??

“I-I can’t just move out of my apartment, Kou.”

His eyebrows knit together, and he huffs, “Why not? It’s a shitty apartment.”

“That’s not the point!” Knocking away the hand that reaches for you, you push yourself all the way up until you’re sitting properly. “I don’t want to move.” 

Owlish eyes narrow, a flash of irritation sparking. “Why not? It makes perfect sense for you to move in here with me. You wouldn’t have to work at that stupid job anymore for one,” he huffs. 

“Bokuto, I’m not going to quit my job,” you mutter. “We’ve talked about this.”

“Why, though?!” he explodes. “You don’t need the money, I’ve told you I can take care of you, whatever you want, baby, name it and it’s fucking yours. You don’t need to work and you don’t need that shitty little apartment!”

Like a crystal glass slipping from numb fingers, the fantasy you’ve convinced yourself you’ve been living shatters into a thousand jagged shards in the space of a single breath.

Oh, how naive you’ve been. How fucking stupid.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you inhale deeply, “Kou, that’s not-”

Strong fingers grip your jaw, and your eyes shoot open as he tugs your face back towards him. Your breath catches in your throat, heart hammering painfully against your ribs. His eyes are wide, pupils blown out, but it’s the intensity in his gaze as he stares at you, the blank expression-

“I love you.”

—

39 missed calls. 72 unread messages. 

Flowers, bouquets of roses, peonies and chrysanthemums piled up by your door between boxes of chocolates and other gifts you won’t bring yourself to open. 

Wide eyed, Misuzu gingerly steps over them, holding two steaming mugs in hand. “Holy fuck,” she murmurs, and for the first time since this stupid, awful mistake began, there’s not a trace of mirth to be found. “Y/N, I…”

But she doesn’t have the words, and you can’t blame her. 

“He told me he loves me,” you sigh. “He asked me to move in with him and told me he loved me, and I grabbed my clothes and all but ran.” You still can’t get the image of Bokuto’s face out of your head, the raw, aching hurt swimming in his eyes as you all but stumbled over excuses in your haste to get out of there. But he didn’t lift a finger to stop you, didn’t say another word.

He just watched numbly, hunched over against the headboard as you fled.

There’s a short beat of silence between the two of you as she sets down the drinks and collapses into the chair beside you. “And… do you love him back?” 

Exhaling loudly, you drop your face into your palms. “I-”

You like how he makes you feel beautiful, the filthy, wonderful praise he lavishes you in when the two of you sleep together, the way he touches you, fingers and mouth so eager to please as his cock fills you, inch by delicious inch.

You like being adored, treasured, and you liked Bo, but… you don’t love him.

That was never on the cards, that wasn’t what your relationship was.

Every line he ever crossed, every boundary he toed, you keep replaying them again and again over and over in your head like a never ending loop. You hadn’t even wanted this whole stupid sugar baby relationship to begin with, and every step of the way he was the one to coax you forward.

And you let him, swallowing down your doubts and your insecurities each and every time. You let him think that this was something else entirely… 

How had you not seen this coming?

“No,” you admit.

The hand that takes yours is soft, and when you glance over with eyes beginning to burn with unshed tears, Misuzu squeezes it gently. “Then end it. Walk away.”

And with your head on her shoulder, her arms wrapped loosely around you, you type out a short message to Bokuto. No strings attached and no questions asked, you’d promised each other that much when you’d started this mess. You wonder if it still holds true. 

I’m sorry. Clearly we were on different pages and want different things. I didn’t mean to lead you on or for things to go as far as they did, but I can’t do this with you anymore. 

You send it and block his contact, and when the tears come and painful sobs rip their way free, Misuzu holds you tight and murmurs soft reassurances. It’ll pass, all breakups hurt.

—

A week after your ‘breakup’ you get a notification on your phone that money’s been transferred into your bank account. 

For a moment, you think that maybe it’s an accident, a recurring transaction he’d simply forgotten to cancel (you doubt he’d even notice) until you click into the transaction itself.

It isn’t the sum itself that startles you - twice the usual amount - but the short note attached in the description.

I need to see you. Please.

You transfer the money right back into his account.

—

Without your weekly supplement from Bo, it doesn’t take long for you to come to the realisation that your current salary just barely covers rent and your bills, and if you want to eat anything other than two minute noodles in the foreseeable future, you’re going to need either more hours, or a second job. 

Thankfully, the timing works out well. When you go to your boss with your most winning smile to try and convince her of your plight, she simply shrugs and agrees, having had to let one of the junior staff go only a few days before. The one catch being that instead of working a mix of morning and afternoon shifts with the occasional closing thrown in, you’re now exclusively on close, five nights a week, Tuesday through Saturday.

Mostly, it doesn’t bother you. The shifts are long and you always leave feeling aching, drained and barely human, but usually it’s quiet enough, and so long as you can get the last few lingering customers out early enough, the actual close runs pretty smoothly between you and the other staff. 

It’s not what you really want to be doing, but you’ve learned to make the best of it. This is adult life, and for the first time since high school, you’re supporting yourself entirely. It might not be the greatest job in the world, and there are absolutely days when you just want to throw in the towel completely, but there is a slight pride to that fact. You don’t need anybody in your life to coddle or support you, you’re figuring this shit out as you go along.

You just wish, sometimes, that you could do that without having to work until the early hours of the morning.

On paper, the kitchen closes at midnight and the last customers are supposed to be out within half an hour of that. Then, between yourself and another server, you can usually get the restaurant tidied up and closed a little after one. 

You knew right from the moment you clocked on that tonight wasn’t going to be one of those nights. The girl who’s supposed to be on close with you called in sick and your boss hasn’t bothered to replace her.

It’s not the first time you’ve had to close by yourself, but it’s still a pain, especially when the last few customers take forever to finish up and leave. 

One of the kitchen staff offers to stay back, his bag slung over his shoulder, hand already on the door handle but you just shake your head with a tired smile. 

“Nah, I can handle it. Thanks, though,”

To his credit, he doesn’t immediately take the offered out. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. See you tomorrow.”

Without any help, it takes almost twice as long for you to finish up, and it’s a little after two when you finally flick off the lights and lock the doors.

Your feet are killing you, and all you can think about is sinking into your bed at home, burrowing into your blankets and sleeping for a week straight-

“Hey, baby.” 

Leaning against the hood of his car, arms folded across his broad chest and eyeing you with an unreadable expression, is Bokuto. 

The tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. 

There's nothing inherently threatening about him being here, but it’s the middle of the night, you haven’t seen him in almost two weeks and you don’t need to glance around to know that the car park’s empty. There’s nobody in sight.

Just you and him, and the few feet of distance separating you. 

“K-kou, what are you… what are you doing here?” 

He smiles at that, the way his name slips from your lips, but only for a fleeting second. It fades, and a cold, uncomfortable feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. 

“I missed you, y’know?” He pushes off the hood and takes a step towards you, “You didn’t call me.”

He’s always been bigger than you, towering over you looking like some Adonis with those rippling, powerful muscles of his. You used to like that strength, squealing in wicked delight when he’d hoist you up with a grin, hands gripping your thighs, squeezing your ass, your back shoved up against the wall so he could drive his cock deeper into ‘his pretty fuckin’ pussy’. 

But that was then. 

You’ve never been scared of his strength. Even that morning in the apartment, he didn’t lash out, didn’t scream or yell, he just… shut down. He wouldn’t hurt you, you know that.

That doesn’t stop you from skittering backwards like a frightened little bunny, your back hitting the wall.

The very moment you do, you watch as his eyes widen in surprise, hurt flashing for a split second-

-before they darken, his face twisting into a scowl, and you can’t escape the feeling you’ve made an awful mistake. 

Dread creeps its way up your spine, tightening like a vice around your chest, making it hard to breathe. Your brain is screaming at you to run, adrenaline surging through your veins, but even as your heart races and your breathing spikes, you can’t seem to move your legs.

It wouldn’t make a difference even if you could - with your back up against the literal wall, Bokuto and his car blocking your only escape route, you’re trapped; a fact that hasn’t escaped either of you.

Paralysed in fear, you can’t so much as twitch as he takes another slow, calculated step forward.

Desperately, you open your mouth - to try and placate him? To apologise? Scream for help? - but all that escapes is his name in a choked, breathless whisper. 

“Bokuto…”

As he stares at you, he almost looks regretful.

Almost, if not for the grim determination resolving like steel in those golden eyes of his. “I love you, and I know you love me, too,” he says, closing the gap between you. “I’m doing this for us, baby.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere bokuto x reader #yandere bokuto kotaro x reader #yandere bokuto koutarou #yandere bokuto kotaro #yandere bokuto koutarou x reader #tw manipulation #tw toxic behavior #tw kidnapping

[lovelybarnes]

puppies- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, mentions of natasha romanoff, sam wilson, and tony stark warnings: dogs, the word puppy and all its variations are overused about: prompt: y/n meeting a bunch of puppies and doesn’t want to leave, so bucky comes by to pick them up and he falls in love with the puppies too a/n: not going to lie, i kind of really hate everything after the first few paragraphs but it’s done and edited and it’s this or an old spencer reid fic because i’m not done with any other one fjkd sorry

“barnes, we have a problem,” natasha begins, steps silent as they cross over to him. “there’s a whole building full of avengers here that can probably help you out,” bucky disregards, continuing to look in the fridge for food. “it’s about y/n,” she continued. bucky pauses at the sound of your name, poking his head from the cold of the fridge to silently tell her to go on. “is she okay? what’s wrong?”

nat sighs, nose scrunching while she decides the less-dumb way to say it. “so, your girlfriend went to this sponsor event at the animal shelter and now…” her sentence drifts off. bucky shuts the fridge door, calmer at the assurance that you’re not in danger, “now?” he asks, urging her to finish. natasha huff-laughs, “now she won’t leave.”

bucky’s eyebrows furrow, “she won’t leave? why?” nat tilts her head, “why do you think? she saw the puppies and fell in love and now she wants them all and won’t leave without them.” bucky nods, chuckling because he absolutely knew he shouldn’t have let you go alone. “yeah. that sounds like her. yeah, so why do you need me?”

“as good as i am, you know how unbelievably stubborn y/n is and you’re gonna have the best chance at convincing her to come back here without… anything else.” she reasons, and bucky groans a little at the thought of having to persuade you to come back. “i’ll try my best, but there are no promises,” he says, “she can get me to do whatever she wants if she tries hard enough.” natasha grimaces, shooing him away.

-

bucky can hear your coos when he enters the shelter, and the moment you squeal when you see him, he can tell he’s probably done for. “bucky! you came! i want you to meet these babies-” you have a couple puppies in your arms, all tails wagging and the ones on the floor trying to climb your legs. “so six of these actually got adopted! they’re just waiting on the paperwork.” you point to various wiggling pups, naming them as your finger points, “jenna, alexis, david, lily, winston, and splat.”

bucky makes a quick count, realizing that without the six puppies, two are left. okay. not bad. a white, spotted puppy peeks out from behind you, three. cutting it close here.

“but,” your voice is sadder, “these three didn’t get adopted at all and the shelter is at capacity and so-”

“you’re not taking them,” bucky cuts in, avoiding looking at the tiny dogs that nuzzle into your chest. “what?” you frown, face falling and bucky is close to letting you do absolutely whatever you want. “but, honey,” ah, pulling out the nicknames. you must really want this, “they don’t have

a home. and the shelter can’t keep them anymore and they’re so cute.”

you pause, contemplating your options, then pat the space next to you, “c’mere, sit.” at his hesitation, you pout, “please, bucky.” the super soldier sighs, bending down next to you and battling the butterflies at your beam. the dogs immediately begin to sniff at him, uncaring about the arm lacking skin. one of the ones formerly at your feet nudges his vibranium hand.

you smile, “that's dolly. and she already knows how to fetch; she’s so smart, although she’s a little grumpy and i think you’ll get along.” bucky looks up at you, eyebrow raised but still petting dolly, “what is that supposed to mean?”

you only bite your lip, gesturing at the pure chocolate one with a toy between his teeth, tail wagging as he pushes bucky’s thigh with his nose. “that’s hershey. he loves squeaky toys but he barely has any here. and, i remembered sam wanted a dog for a while, so he’s actually coming soon to take him home, so we’ll really only be adopting two.” bucky can feel the little of his resolve melting away like the crayons rebecca had once left on the sidewalk when dolly crawls onto his lap. the dog sleeping on you lets out a small whine that makes you audibly coo, rubbing at their ear, “this is mafalda. she’s the sweetest and a total lap dog, although because there are so many dogs here, she doesn’t get much interaction.” you scratch her head, looking up at bucky.

“come on, bucky, they need homes. and we’re getting a place for just us soon anyways, please?” you beg. bucky isn’t sure if your powers extend to animals, but he wholeheartedly believes they do when the dogs begin to whine.

bucky tries to look away and say no. he swears it now-and will swear it to tony when bucky and you come back home with two dogs. he really tries, but the way you look up at him, paired with the literal puppy eyes from two separate puppies, it’s truly impossible to say no to you. besides- and he can’t decide if this is good or bad- the way dolly nuzzles her head against the silver of his hand makes him feel as if he isn’t as deadly as people think he is.

“...fine,” he groans, and you cheer, picking matilda up and hugging her as she yawns. “thank you so much, oh i love you so much,” you press a loud kiss to the edge of his lips, catching his little frown at the half kiss and you shrug, “not in front of the puppies.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff fanfic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky fluff #fluffy bucky x reader #fluffy bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes with puppies #bucky barnes x you fluff #bucky barnes fluffy fanfiction #bucky barnes fic fluff #bucky barnes fanfic fluffy #fluffy bucky barnes x reader

[dreamerstreamer]

Slip Up

Pairing: Dream / Clay x f!reader

Summary: One literal slip up leads to another and, well—it isn’t pretty.

Warning: includes depictions of anxiety as a result of exposure

Word Count: 5.0k

A/N: requested by an anon who wanted something about a secret relationship! i hope you enjoy! on a more serious note though, don’t harass your creators and the people they care about. seriously, don’t.

With one last click, Clay let out a sigh, grabbing his headphones and setting them down on his desk. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the still clip on his monitor with a hint of a frown tugging at his lips.

After two long hours, he was officially tired of listening to George’s screams ringing through his ears. Sure, they were funny in the heat of the moment when he was recording, but having to listen to the same screams on loop while editing?

He shivered.

No thanks. He needed a break.

Grabbing his phone, he pushed open the door to his studio and headed for the stairs. I wonder where [Y/N] is, he thought to himself as he climbed the basement stairs two at a time. It’s been a while since I last caught a glimpse of her.

Surfacing on the first floor, he stuck his head into the living room, glancing around for a brief moment only to deduce that you weren’t there. With a huff, he spun on his heel. If she’s not there, he thought, his strides confident and full of purpose, then she’s definitely in—

He stepped into the kitchen, his gaze landing on your figure half-tucked behind the open fridge door almost instantaneously. He smiled. Bingo.

Slowly, he crept forward, slipping around the kitchen island to silently walk up to you. Before you even noticed he was there, he leaned down next to your ear and whispered.

“Boo.”

Letting out a sharp yell, you whirled, your wide eyes practically drowning in the amusement filling Clay’s emerald gaze as he let out a long wheezing laugh. “Clay!” you gasped, holding a hand over your heart. “You scared me, oh my god.”

His wheezing only grew louder in volume as he slapped his knee, still cackling at your distraught expression. Puffing your cheeks in a pout, you turned your back to him, staring back into the fridge. “Meanie.”

Struggling to regain his breath, Clay leaned in to wrap his arms around your waist in a hug from behind. You could feel his chest shaking against your back with laughter, beginning to slowly die down with each passing second. A moment later, he dipped his head down to press a kiss to your cheek. “Sorry,” he hummed. “I just thought it’d be funny to make you jump.” His eyes glinted with mischief. “I was right. It was.”

“Not for me,” you grumbled, and he let out the tiniest of wheezes next to your ear. 

“Alright, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said, kissing your neck. “How are you doing? I haven’t seen you all morning.”

You relaxed into his warm touch, melting into the feeling of his soft lips on your skin. Sending him a tired smile, you closed the fridge door and focused your attention onto him. “I’m alright, but I’m feeling kind of tired,” you admitted. “You get kind of sick of working on an assignment after the third, you know?”

He snuggled closer to you, smiling into your neck. “Well, I mean, I wouldn’t know, but I understand your point.”

You rolled your eyes at him, leaning back into his figure. “Right, I forgot that you didn’t go to college, Mr. Streamer.”

Clay laughed at your words. “You’re just that much smarter than me, then.” He poked at your cheek affectionately. as he cooed, “Look at you, my super smart college student girlfriend.”

You turned in his arms to face him, frowning at him. “Clay, you say that like you aren’t considered to be one of the best, if not the best Minecraft player in the world. Give yourself some more credit.”

He brushed a stray hair away from your face, his gaze fond as he held you a little closer. “Okay, but only because you told me to.”

You snorted, sinking deeper into his arms. “If your followers could see you now, I’m sure they’d be spamming ‘simp’ in chat.”

He chuckled. “They already do that whenever I hang out with George—I can’t even imagine to what extent it would increase if they knew about you.”

You offered him a smile, but it felt forced. The question had been swirling in the back of your mind for a little while now, and it was just sitting on the tip of your tongue, now. You had to ask now, or it would devour you alive.

“Hey, um, Clay,” you said, your tone shifting as you fidgeted slightly in his embrace. “Do you—do you think we’ll ever tell people and your fans about, well—” You gestured to the space between the two of you. “—about us?”

He paused for a moment, then let out a soft breath. “I want to,” he said. “Oh man, you don’t know just how badly I want to share you with the whole world and show them you’re mine.” You felt your cheeks grow warm, your lips instinctively curling up at his words.

“But I don’t think they’re ready for that just yet,” he added in a wistful tone. He pulled back, sending you a crooked smile. “How about we cross that bridge when we get there? I know that when we do get around to it, they’re gonna love you as much as I do, I promise.”

You bobbed your head, feeling the anxiety in your gut disintegrate. “Okay. Thanks, Clay.”

He reached up to ruffle your hair, cooing at the small whine you let out. “Anything for you.”

Knocking his hand off your head, you grinned at him. “On another note, what have you been up to? Instead of sleeping in late, of course, you lucky butt.”

He swayed back and forth, bringing you along with him. “I spent a lot of time editing some videos that are still in the works. I’m gonna be streaming for a few hours in a bit, though. If you need anything, you know where you can find me.” He grabbed your hand in his, fiddling with your fingers with a slight squeeze. “Are you still gonna be working on your assignment later, or will I be allowed to bother you?”

Your mouth twitched at his pouty tone, and you squeezed his hand back. “I actually might go out to the grocery store. Patches’s cat food is on sale, so I might stock up on that, and I kind of wanted some snacks for studying. Was there anything you wanted while I was gone?”

He hummed, thinking for a moment. “Not really, to be honest.” Slipping his hand into yours, he began leading you to the front of the house. “Here, let me see you off.”

You felt your heart swell with love as he handed you your bag from where it hung on the coat rack while you laced up your shoes. Clay was always so attentive to you and your needs, never failing to make sure you had everything you needed at the drop of a hat. You were really too lucky to have him.

“Do you have your mask?” he asked when you stood up.

With a nod, you fished it out from your pocket, waving it in your hands. “Mhm.”

He smiled. “Awesome.” Opening his arms, he pulled you in for one last hug, inhaling the scent of your flowery shampoo before swinging the door open and watching you step outside, car keys in hand.

“I’ll be back soon!” you cried, waving to him from the driveway.

He waved back, leaning against the doorframe. “See you!” he called back. “Take care out there.”

“I will!”

His viridian gaze trailed after you and your car as you sped off down the road, knowing all too well exactly which radio station you had inevitably turned on. Well, no matter. He supposed it was time to stream, now. Locking the door behind him, Clay strode down to the basement, sliding into his desk chair with his hand on his mouse. Slipping his headphones over his head, he rolled his shoulders and opened up Twitch. 

Taking one last deep breath, he grinned and pressed the ‘start streaming’ button. 

“Hey, guys!”

You grunted as you pushed the front door open, sliding your shoes off as you heaved the last sack of cat food onto the ground with a loud thud. 

And that’s all three. Finally.

Pushing the door closed using your foot, you placed your hands on your hood in determination.

Now, to get them downstairs.

You grimaced, glaring down at the offending bags. This was going to sooo much fun.

Some things never ceased to amaze you. Like how smart Clay was, even as dorky as he could be. Like how fast he blown up. Like how much you loved him.

And like how much cat food Patches managed to eat without getting fat.

Seriously, you thought to yourself with a grumble, how does she still look the same even though she goes through a whole bag of cat food in like... two weeks? It’s just not fair.

“I wish I had your metabolism,” you muttered, shooting a glare at the feline in question.  “You suck.”

Patches was perched on the stair railings a few feet away from you, grooming her paws. The moment you spoke her name, she lifted her head to look at you, her ears flicking. You stared at each other for a few seconds before she let out a soft meow, jumping down to rub against your leg.

“Oh, who am I kidding?” you murmured to yourself, your heart swelling in your chest at the feeling of her nuzzling her small head against your calf. “I could never hate you. You’re too cute.”

You turned your attention back to the three sacks of cat food you now had in your possession. Patches’s domain mostly consisted of the basement, where you kept her toys and costumes. Consequently, that’s where the cat food was also stored, albeit out of sight so that Patches wouldn’t get any ideas. Like her owner, she had a penchant for mischief, but you loved them both anyways.

The main problem here was getting the cat food down the stairs. 

I’m a strong independent woman, you thought to yourself with a small smile. Also, Clay is streaming, so I can’t ask him for help even if I wanted to. Bending over, you hoisted the first sack into your arms. That’s okay, though. A few stairs can’t stop me.

Taking a deep breath, you trudged toward the basement, carefully taking the stairs one step at a time down. The last thing you wanted was to trip while carrying the cat food of all things.

Unfortunately, it seemed that you jinxed yourself.

Everything went fine for the first two bags, each sack having safely made their way onto their proper spot on their designated cabinet shelf. Each time you tread down the stairs, you would take a quick peek over at Clay’s recording studio, smiling to see him amicably chatting with his viewers while completing another speedrun. With a smile on your face, you climbed the stairs once more to come face to face with your final obstacle.

You grinned despite your arms aching from having done so much heavy lifting. Last bag. Let’s go.

Rolling up your sleeves, you began the same process you had been running with for the past two trips: pick up the bag and head down the stairs, making sure to step carefully. 

What you hadn’t accounted for, though, was Patches’s presence.

You were just about halfway down the stairs when Patches darted in front of you. With a soft yelp, you stepped back to avoid her, letting her bounce down the stairs ahead of you. A brief breath of relief escaped your lips, but it was short lived. 

Just then, your sock’s grip on the floor gave out, and you felt gravity wrap a hand around your ankle.

Oh, crap.

A shout tore its way out of your throat as as you tumbled forward, landing on the ground with a resounding crash. Beside you, the bag of cat food smacked into the wall and landed with a loud crunch. 

That can’t be good, you vaguely thought, your mind fogged up by a cloud of pain.

Just a few rooms over, Clay froze mid-stream, his mouse coming to a halt as his entire body went stiff. Without even thinking to mute himself, he tore his headphones off his head, your name flying from his lips in a flurry of worry as he rushed out the room.

“[Y/N]! [Y/N], are you okay?”

On the ground, you winced, pain shooting up your side as you pulled yourself forward. In an instant, Clay was on the ground by your side—one hand on the small of your back helping you sit up, the other brushing your hair away from your face.

“[Y/N],” he breathed, panic seeping into his face as his eyes scanned every inch of your face for harm, “are you good?” You nodded, but it did nothing to ease the worry in his expression. “Tell—tell me.” He held three fingers in front of your face. “How many fi—”

“Three,” you replied immediately. You offered a pained smile, stifling another wince as you did so. 

He leaned in closer to your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “How badly are you hurt?”

You shifted your spine, trying to gauge the pain. The ache was dull at most, minimal at best. “Only a little.”

He pressed his forehead to yours, his breathing ragged. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You let out a small sigh, sending him a reassuring smile. You appreciated his protectiveness, you really did, but sometimes he really did go the extra mile. “Clay,” you said softly, “I’m okay, really. I promise I’m okay. I just tripped and fell.” Then you glanced behind him, letting out a deeper sigh. “The cat food, on the other hand? Not so much.”

The bag must have ripped open when it fell, its own weight having collapsed on itself and tearing a hole right through the bottom. The individual pellets of cat food where strewn all across the floor, littering the ground like pebbles. And of course, Patches was already starting to nibble away. Pesky girl.

Clay stood up, reaching a hand out toward you. “Here, I’ll help you clean up.”

You took his hand, shaking your head as he pulled you to your feet. “No, no. You should get back to your stream.” Your brows knit together. “I interrupted it, didn’t it? Your followers will be waiting for you. You should go back.”

He shook his head, his expression resolute. “Contrary to popular belief, [Y/N],” he said, “you’re more important to me than just one stream. I’ll probably just end it when I’m done here, anyway.” He squeezed your hand, his gaze kind. “Let me help you. Please.”

With your heart fluttering in your chest, you squeezed it back. 

“Okay.”

Clay grabbed the two of you a dustpan as you began to clean up the mess of cat food you had made on the floor. You whined about how you just wasted a sale by tripping down the stairs while he poked fun at your frustration, passing you Patches with the request of keeping her away from the food as he swept. In practically no time, you had nearly forgotten what had transpired at all, just happy to spend some time with your wonderful boyfriend next to you.

If only you knew just how much your little fall was going to blow up in your face.

You ran your tongue over your chapped lips, your gaze focused on your laptop screen as your mouse finally hit the submit button. Letting out a sigh, you finally let the stress seep out of your body as a small smile overtook your features.

Finally handed it in. Now, you didn’t have to worry about it anymore.

With a groan, you stretched your arms out above you, cracking your back. You’d been working away for a couple of hours now, but at long last, you were free for the weekend. Humming to yourself, you picked up your phone. You had set it to ‘do not disturb’ a while back, since it hadn’t stopped vibrating at one point. You hadn’t bothered to check why at the time, but you supposed you could spare some time for yourself before dinner.

Swiping your phone open, your thumb instinctively tapped on Twitter, a blue glow enveloping your screen before fading to dark. You hummed as you opened up the trending page, curiosity pawing at your backside. You had your bets on some trend going viral, but knowing the internet, it was probably some weird, random crap.

There were a handful of political memes topping the charts, as well as a #TGIF. You stifled a laugh as you scrolled a bit lower. Twitter sure was a weird place.

That was when a tag caught your eye.

#DreamExplain

Your thumb stopped, hovering over the screen. What? Explain what, exactly?

Then there—just few lines below that.

#WhoIs[Y/N]?

Your heart came to a screeching halt in your chest.

That was your name. 

Trending. On Twitter.

Panic shot through your veins.

What the actual hell happened?

With a heavy feeling of disbelief sinking its claws into you, you tapped on your name, watching as hundreds of tweets shot past your eyes.

Who’s [Y/N] and how can I be her

dream explain?! oh mygood what was that !!!!

is [Y/N] Dream’s girlfriend or something

um ??? dream said the name [Y/N] on stream today then went afk for like 20 mins ??? then the stream just ended ???wtf ???

what’s @georgenotfound gonna do omggg nooo!!! his boyfriend!!!!!!

You felt sick to your stomach.

Oh god.

They knew who you were.

You wanted to throw up.

Stumbling to your feet, you made your way toward the kitchen where you knew you would find Clay, your phone clutched in a death grip between your fingers. 

“C-Clay?”

He turned from where he was leaning against the counter, a smile lighting up his face at the sound of your voice. “Hey!” The moment his eyes landed on your face, his smile vanished. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“Have—” You swallowed, your palms beginning to sweat. “Have you checked Twitter recently?”

“Nope,” he hummed, pulling his phone out from his pocket. “What’s trending this time? Did some politician say something or—”

“I am,” you said ever so softly.

He froze, his phone going slack in his hand. “What?”

You glanced up from your feet. “I’m trending, Clay.”

A beat of silence. “What?!” he repeated, louder this time.

You felt an odd sense of weightlessness sinking onto your shoulders, and you felt yourself begin to ramble. “Crazy, right? Little old me, trending? Wild. Insane. Like, just wow.” 

With each new phrase that leapt from your lips, Clay’s brows furrowed further. You could see the wheels in his head turning at full speed. Then, they stopped, and realization set in. Then came the horror.

Oh, dear god.

“[Y/N],” he whispered, taking a step toward you, “oh my god.”

“You’re also trending, by the way,” you continued, barreling ahead as your hands began wildly gesturing. You swallowed down the panic rising up your throat at full throttle. “It’s a shame that I’m not higher than you, but I guess we can’t win them all.”

“[Y/N],” he said again, “this is serious.”

You nodded, your expression still blank. “Oh, I know. I’m—”

Something in you snapped.

You sucked in a ragged breath. “Yeah, I’m—”

And out came the waterworks.

You collapsed to the ground, the sobs escaping your throat in uneven bursts. Clay’s arms were around you before you knew it, his hand cradling your head for the second time that day.

“Clay, Clay, Clay,” you choked out, your entire being dissolving into him. “Clay, they know who I am. They heard you.”

His grip tightened on you, murmuring sweet nothings in your ear. You sobbed harder, your tears soaking into his hoodie.

There was nowhere left to hide.

You hadn’t touched your phone in days. It hardly took more than a few minutes for your Twitter feed to have absolutely blown up with messages about you. Some positive, some negative, some neutral. While you appreciated the kind ones, you only had to read a handful of the not-so-kind ones for you to turn off your phone and hide it in a drawer. It wasn’t like you were going to even use it properly, what with its cracked screen.

The more time passed, the more acutely aware of the public’s knowledge of you became.

Your name was everywhere, supposed drawings of you were everywhere, you—you were everywhere.

You felt like you were suffocating in your own skin.

Clay knew that the slip up had been rough on you, and he didn’t blame you one bit. He had asked you what you needed, if you wanted him to take a few days off to spend more time with you. You had declined, sending him a tired smile.

“I... I think I just need some time to myself to think things over.”

He didn’t push you anymore than that, instead holding you close and pressing his lips to your cheek. For the next couple days, he vanished off of social media—no tweets, no streams, no videos. Nothing. While you busied yourself with class work, he focused on editing and planning ahead for the future. You both knew you were stalling, but right now, you just needed time.

A knock came from your door, a soft voice following just after.

“[Y/N]?”

You rolled over on the bed you shared, your eyes flickering up to see Clay standing in the doorway. The book you had brought in with you laid untouched on the nightstand next to you. You haven’t been able to properly bring yourself to enjoy something without thoughts of doubt seeping into your head.

What do they think of me? Do they like me? Will they approve of our relationship? 

You were terrified out of your mind.

Clay approached the bed when he saw you move, gently sitting down next to you. “Are you doing any better?” 

He patted the space on his leg, and you twisted your body to settle your head on his lap. “Sort of,” you murmured.

A moment passed as he took in your words. “Have you eaten?”

You nodded, your head just barely moving. “Yeah. Ate some leftover pasta.”

You fell quiet once more, simply listening to the sound of his breaths next to yours. Despite having been hearing next to nothing but silence for days now, you felt better knowing he was next to you.

“Hey,” he said softly, grabbing your attention once more. You turned your head towards him, his hand stroking your hair. His emerald eyes bore into yours, focused and sad. “Tell me what’s on your mind. You seem so distant, right now.”

Your gaze trailed up to the ceiling as you opened your mouth, trying to connect the mess of thoughts in your head into coherent sentences. “It’s just all so overwhelming,” you admitted. “All they know about me is my name and that I fell down the stairs, but it already feels like it’s way too much. I didn’t even spend that much time scrolling online, and I already know that there are more than just a few people freaking out.”

You looked up at him, your sad gaze mirroring his. “I can’t even imagine what it must feel like to have everyone begging you for a face reveal.” 

The sadness in his eyes only seemed to grow deeper, and you felt something warm and watery wrap around your heart. “It’s my fault,” he whispered, pressing a hand over his eyes. “I should have muted myself. I shouldn’t have been so reckless. I just moved without thinking and—”

You pulled yourself upwards, turning to sit face to face with him. “Clay, don’t say that.” You reached out to grab him arm, pulling it away from his face. His gaze was watery, and you wished you never had to see him with that expression. “It’s not your fault, not at all. When you heard me fall, you thought of me right away, and I appreciate that.” You held his big hand in between your smaller ones, interlocking your fingers. “That just shows you care for me. Please don’t beat yourself up over what happened.” You offered him a timid smile. “I know that I’m not taking this all too well either, but we’re in this together, right?”

His lips twitched to mirror yours, but his tone was still tinged with a low sadness. “I know, it’s just... I hate seeing you like this, like you can’t live your life normally anymore because of me.”

Your hand reached up to stroke his cheek. “Hey, it’s alright,” you crooned. “Remember, they only know my first name—not even my last name—and that I tripped. They don’t know what I look like.” Your lips twitched. “Heck, they don’t even know what I sound like. I think I’ll be able to live my life just fine. It’s just a little bit... much to begin with.” You shot him a goofy smile. “I might have to use Twitter less, but you know my screen time usage is way too high anyway.”

A chuckle slipped from his lips, his eyes curving into two crescent moons. You felt your expression shift to mirror his almost naturally, but then the smile slowly crept off your face. “And, um, Clay,” you added, fidgeting slightly.

“Yeah?”

“These past two days, I gave what happened some more thought,” you began, “and I think...” You gulped. I think I want to introduce myself.”

His eyes widened, and suddenly his hands were on your face, his gaze focused intently on your face. “Are you positive?” he breathed. “You know you don’t have to do this, [Y/N].”

You nodded, feeling your resolve harden like a stone in your heart. “I know.” You offered him a bold smile. “It’s scary and kind of hard to think about, but I don’t want to leave everyone in the dark. I want to be by your side through thick and thin, no matter what.”

He paused, then pulled his hands away from your face. That sadness in his eyes had returned, and you felt your heart crack at the sight. “I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he said quietly, almost remorsefully. “I know that being with me is already a huge commitment, and this is just taking another huge step...”

You leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his shoulder. “Clay,” you said, staring down at your knee. “I’ve been here with you from the beginning, and I’ll be here until the end. I’m here with you for the long haul, okay?” You raised your head, shooting him a wicked grin. “You won’t be getting rid of me too easily.”

Just like that, his smile was back. “Oh, alright. Only because I love you so much, though.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair with a weary grin. “Well, if there’s anything that I’m sure is going to happen,” he said, “it’s that my fans are definitely going to call me a ‘simp’ even more than they already do.”

You flashed him a teasing smile. “Are they wrong, though?”

His eyes crinkled at the corners.

“No, they’re not.”

Swallowing, you stared long and hard at the microphone sitting in front of you.

You can do this.

“Are you ready?”

You sucked in a deep breath, feeling your hands shake in your lap.

“I—I think so.”

Clay pressed a kiss to the back of your neck, his left arm wrapping itself around your waist to pull you closer on his lap. With his right, he reached for the mouse. On his screen, he had his stream loaded up, with only a single mouse click standing between you and tens of thousands of viewers.

Feeling his eyes on you, you turned to look at him. With a small smile, he dipped his head down to press his lips to yours in a soft kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling back. Pulling back, he leaned his forehead against yours lovingly.

“You know, this is only about half as stressful as when I met your family,” you joked.

He snorted, the rumbling of his chest running along your back and into your thumping heart. “And they loved you just as much as I do. Once the rest of the world meets you,��� he murmured just for you to hear, “they’re going to love you just the same. I swear it.”

You let your eyelids flutter shut, breathing in his scent of fresh linen and citrus. “I hope so.”

He shot you a cheeky wink. “Oh, I know so.”

You rolled your eyes at him, turning around to look at his monitor once more. “Cheese ball.” You didn’t have to turn to know that he was still grinning. Snuggling further back into his chest, you said, “Let’s start the stream, yeah?”

With a nod, he clicked the ‘start streaming’ button. Almost instantaneously, thousands of people joined the stream. You briefly glanced at the chat and felt yourself stiffen when you caught a brief glimpse of your name. Almost immediately, Clay’s hand was on yours, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb while you relaxed once more.

Sending you one last loving glance, he leaned towards his mic and began to speak. “Hey, guys! I know it’s been a little while since I last did a stream, and I know you guys have some questions. But first, there’s someone I want you guys to meet.”

His gaze flickered to you, and he gestured toward the mic. Taking a deep breath, you mustered up your courage and leaned forward. 

“Hi there. My name is [Y/N].”

You felt his hand squeeze yours. 

With a smile and a deep breath, you squeezed back.

“And I’m Dream’s girlfriend.”

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