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cinnamonest · 2 months

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not too sure if you've already put thought into it, but which yanderes would be/wouldn't be willing to break bones? i feel like for most of them it's a hard yes but depending on the circumstances and their mental fragility.

also sadisim. (COUGHCOUGHCHILDECOUGHCOUGH)

ignore this ask if you've already answered/have a question similar to this (or just don't want to answer/! and if your reqs are closed and my tumblrs just tweaking that's okay too!!

I would say Albedo initially, but he's a practical man, if you're not going to be using the limbs anyway might as well just take them off, so… as for some others…

Kazuha does it for practicality, specifically your ankles. It's a useful risk prevention method.

He still feels bad, and he apologizes… but he doesn't hesitate much. After all, he did give you fair warning, but you ran off yet again. This is just to keep you safe, for your own well-being, and for his peace of mind.

He's sweet about it too. He puts your hand against his arm beforehand, and tells you here, you can squeeze down on my arm, okay? After all, it will help with the initial pain.

He's still sweet when you squirm away and whimper, even though the grip with which he pulls you back is harsh.

I know. But I can't let you be a danger to yourself…

He holds you gently for however long it takes you to stop crying. He'll get you water and food and painkillers/alcohol, tends to your every need, waits on you hand and (broken) foot. Notably, once the initial reaction has died down, he stops really acknowledging it in any meaningful way, talks to you as if everything is normal. Even when addressing your leg, he talks about it as if it were some injury you acquired by other means.

You might be spiteful enough to bring it up and remind him that it's his fault, but he's quick to correct you, keeping a soft voice and gentle smile all the while.

You did have every opportunity to choose otherwise, you know. Ah, but I know you're upset… it's okay if you blame me.

He'll be fully patient for you to heal, too. He’s very cheerful once it's fully healed, says he's glad you're better, helps you walk around a bit to get readjusted, keeping his hands firmly supporting you the entire time. Even for a while after it's healed enough to walk, he checks on it from time to time to ensure the final stages of mending are going well.

He tells you you're fully healed, with a soft voice and ever-pleasant smile, not without adding—

Let’s hope it stays that way.

----

Childe has to be in a more angry mood than usual to get to that point. Usually, his form of sadism is the sort that focuses on a sort of pleasure-pain, the sort he can get off to… but this is a bit different.

It's only because you keep being irritating. He's really tolerant, you know? He's been so lenient, he tells you, he's been so nice, he's been so good to you, and what do you do? You keep being mean. It's cute up to a certain point, but you're being like, really really mean.

It's actually kind of nice, on his end, to see your immediate reaction — you can tell just by the strained smile and clenched teeth as he speaks that you've crossed some sort of line. For once, you actually shrink back, clutch your hands up at your chest defensively, start to take some steps back… but you can't get away fast enough before you're drug forward by the hair or neck.

Come on… it's not that hard to be good, is it?

It's a last chance — he's nice enough to give you that, at least, even if you don't deserve it (which you don't, he thinks). Come on. You can be good, you can apologize and submit and he'll forget all the spiteful shit you've done today and then you can have a nice, happy rest of the day. You can do it. It should be easy. He takes one of your hands in his, holding it with a sort of sincere pleading gesture.

But, even though you should know better, you still remain spiteful through your fear, narrow your eyes and tell him no. You try to jerk your hand away, only to find his grip on it is iron-firm.

His smile twitches.

Aw. That's too bad.

And thus, you process the sound and sight before the pain — you see him take your hand and twist it, hear the snap, and only then does the pain shoot up through your wrist, through your arm and to every nerve in your body. It's bad enough that you fall to your knees, squealing, cradling the now-unnaturally-twisted limb.

Yes, he's very very nice, but admittedly, hearing you wail like that is rather pleasing, all things considered. More so when he grabs you by the jaw, jerks your head up to force you to look at him, and sees the tears in your eyes, the way your face contorts with pain.

Maybe you can be good now…?

This time, you squeeze your eyes shut, frantically nodding your head, a pitiful little sound coming out of your throat. He'd be lying if he said it wasn't very satisfying.

---

There's also a notable difference between willing to break bones and likelihood of breaking bones, actively willing or not.

Some non-humans are particularly unaware of their strength — Xiao fits this well. He genuinely doesn't like hurting you, although you would think so, based on how much he does, it's just that he forgets how fragile you are. For someone of his strength, your body might as well be made of glass.

So it just sort of happens… he grabs you by the arm or leg and pulls in the wrong direction a bit too hard, there's a stomach-churning snapping sound and suddenly you're shrieking and crying. It startles him quite a bit — he lets go and shrinks back, all wide-eyed and head darting from side to side as he looks around in confused panic.

But just as with fragility, he's also not very aware of the durability of the human body. He’s not great at gauging severity of injury — normally, he just attacks creatures until they stop moving, because that's his goal when it comes to his responsibilities.

So he has no real reference for how much damage he's done. Bones are all connected, yes? He probably broke something important, or made some internal organ come apart somehow, and it will kill you. The thought sends him into a full-fledged panic, he's bolting off and dragging help back as fast as physically possible, explaining that you have sustained mortal injury and are on the verge of death.

He's at least comforted to learn that that is in fact not the case, and you have merely broken your arm, which, the innkeeper confirms, is in fact not fatal. He's too relieved to notice the blatant frustration in her voice (this marks the fourth time he's insisted you are about to die over something actually far more trivial), and merely nods when she asks to please be more careful.

He doesn't really know how to handle the matter from there. He feels guilty about it. You're obviously in pain, and it's his fault. He'll sit next to you, hunched over and staring with those big yellow eyes as if trying to make you heal faster with sheer willpower. Makes sure you don't get up and move around (despite your insistence that your legs are just fine — still can't take risks, he says), disappears for a while each day and comes back with mountaintop herbs that are supposed to dull pain.

He doesn't outright say sorry, but you can see the remorse on his face and in his actions, and it's actually kind of pitiful… it reminds you of a little kid that broke a vase sheepishly trying to put it back together… all in all, you can't really bring yourself to be harsh about it.

#.kz #.x #.ch

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k1ngpin42 · 24 days

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𝒟𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝐸𝓁𝓁𝒾𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓈𝒽𝑒’𝓈 𝑔𝑒𝓉𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝒾𝒸𝓊𝓁𝒶𝓇𝓁𝓎 𝒻𝓇𝓊𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒶 𝑔𝒶𝓂𝑒.

No outbreak

(Mini fic- a lot shorter than my usuals, longer one coming next, see announcement for more info)

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

It had been a long day for Ellie at work. She worked in administration in a hospital who made her do just about everything for just about nothing. This is what she got for trying to make a difference she guessed. One file at a time. Ellie wasn’t the kind to be silent about it either. “How was work?” “fine.” No. If it sucked, you’d hear about it.

The key clicked and the front door opened. It was around 10pm. You had just been chilling on the couch, watching one of those shows with way too many episodes to be healthy and letting time tick by. A chorus of irritated huffs and sighs escaped your girlfriends lips before you could even greet her.

“Ellie! You’re home, hey baby.” You say excitedly. She sighs.

“Hey babe.” She groans, giving you a quick and resilient hug. You let out a sigh. You were craving her. Bad. But when she was in one of these moods the last thing she wanted to do was use any more energy on talking or…well especially what you had been thinking about all these hours that you were alone here.

“I can heat you up some leftovers if you’re hungry?”

“No. Thanks though, I’m just gonna take a shower and then play some games before bed.”

“Okay. Oh um, want…me to join you?” You question, and she laughs lightly, planting a soft kiss on your lips.

“I won’t be long.”

It was easier to pretend you had been joking, which Ellie at least thought you were, even if every part of you ached to have your body soften under the heat of the shower while she eats you out and the condensation makes you feel faint and- whatever. It was a joke, you repeated to yourself.

You scooped yourself a small bowl of ice cream and had been picking at it with a teaspoon for a while, starring back at the screen. After around 15 minutes, Ellie headed up to your bedroom.

“I’ll wear headphones so the game won’t disturb you.” Ellie announces. You nod.

“Oh- how…was your day?” Ellie asked, feeling a little bad when she realised she had barely spoken to you. You gave her a comfortingly smile.

“It was fine. Go, play your game.”

“Okay baby, I love you.”

“Love you too.”

But the more time passed the more frustrated you felt that you couldn’t get off. Before she got there you had tried touching yourself, even using a toy, but each time you got close the sensation fucked off again and you were left feeling how you felt now. Annoyed and lonely.

So you decided to go up there to your room. You always left Ellie by herself when she gamed, it was like an unspoken rule, you had your movies and she had her games and afterwards you’d cuddle and all would be right in the world. You weren’t even sure how she’d react to you trying to distract her, but any attention was better than nothing.

You knocked on the door.

“UGH FUCK. Died again.” You heard Ellie groan through the door. You can’t help but laugh at this, and you open the door, laying back on your bed.

For a while you just watch her. Watch her get more and more frustrated. You walk over, kneeling in front of her and putting a hand on her thigh. She sighs.

“-ugh I- I need to win just, I’ll just be a second.” You shrug, walking back to your bed with a teasing smile as you remove your pyjama pants, putting your hand in your already drenched panties.

“You look so good over there.” You say, and Ellie still has her headphones in, not really hearing you. That is until you start circling your clit faster, letting out an almost pornographic moan, your eyes rolling back where they were previously on your otherwise engaged girlfriend.

Ellie’s eyes widen and you hear a loud thud from her headphones being dropped.

“Jesus…look at you making up a fuckin mess for me playing video games. Did I not give my girl enough attention?” She coo’d. You don’t say anything, still wanting to keep what little power you had over her. You keep going, a little slower now that her gaze was right on you.

“Couldn’t fucking wait 20 minutes could you, pretty girl? You just had to fucking touch yourself.” You let out a gasp of pleasure.

“You’re not cumming until I finish my game. Come here.” She orders, grabbing your hand and pulling you over to her gaming chair.

“Kneel.” You do as she says, your cheeks heating up at her words.

“Fucking suck on it.” She commands in a way she knows you love. It had taken Ellie a long time to become comfortable with talking to you like this. It took about a hundred “are you sure’s?” And “I’m sorry I didn’t mean that’s” in the past to get where you two were now, but now she’s fucking obsessed with the way she can treat you like nothing when you know you’re everything to her. The way she can call you her ‘fucking slut’ and then call you “babe” and the “love of her life” after.

You obeyed her without protest, unzipping her jeans and pulling them down to her waist. Then, you start sucking on her clit, moving your tongue in circular motions as well. She lets our a few deep breaths and short sighs at this as she powers her game back up.

“I come home from work and my girls all worked up? Wet for me and fingering herself in our fucking bed? You’re such a good fucking slut for- fuck….me.” She added. You hum into her clit, feeling, hearing and tasting her get increasingly more wet at your actions.

“YES! I almost got I-it…” Ellie moaned as she achieved something in her game. You go faster, adding fingers through her folds as your tongue works at her clit.

“Ah…f- not so fast baby…oh fuck.” You don’t listen, though. Perhaps your first mistake of the night. Then Ellie reaches her arms up in celebration.

“Fuck, finally.” She says, but her victory is soon forgotten when your orgasm swirls through her.

“F…fuck, fuck…” Ellie practically whimpered, putting her remote down and picking you up, putting you’re harshly on the bed.

“You did good babe. Now stay fucking still, I wanna see what my absence did to you.” She exclaims, putting her fingers into you.

“Fuck, they’re practically drowning in this pussy. You ovulating or something?” You gasp out at the feeling of her long, skinny, perfect fucking fingers.

“I don’t know.” You admit. She nods.

“Course you don’t. You get this horny for me no matter what, don’t you?”

“Mhm.” You say as her two middle fingers make their way up to your clit. The pressure is so fucking perfect that you’re close already. God damn those fucking lesbian hands. Your favourite god damn necklace too.

She increases her pace and your eyes roll back. She smirks cockily.

“Close already? I just started.” You sigh, not having the words to retaliate. She keeps going and a chorus of whimpers and whines escape your lips. You grab onto her arm, sinking your nails into the tattood skin as you cum hard on her fingers. She kisses your neck lightly.

“So beautiful.” She says in your ear.

#ellie williams 18+#smut #ellie x fem reader #tlou2 #tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams x female reader

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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 1 year

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Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4

Secret admirer part 5!!

This one really got away from me, but I hope you like it! Also, I lied, there will be one last part :) I had planned on this being a 5+1, so I’m glad it worked out to be that way!

Now Eddie is just waiting to see what Steve tries next. Just sitting back and reveling in the fact that King Steve “The Hair” Harrington, first of his name, mom of six or seven gremlins at a time, wants town Freak Eddie “The Banished” Munson.. and apparently has for a while too.

Life goes on like normal, but now every time Eddie sees Steve after finding out he was his secret admirer, he can’t help but smile a bit bigger.

He also confronts Robin, “You knew didn’t you?”

“Knew what?”

“Don’t play that shit with me; you knew it was Steve.”

“Oh. Yeah. Of course I did.”

“You told me to unpack tapes on purpose so I’d see his handwriting and figure it out.” It was a statement, not a question.

“I also wanted the tapes unpacked. Duh.”

“Ugh you’re the worst. I can’t believe I’m chauffeuring you to Casa de Harrington, of my own volition, on MY precious Thursday off.”

Robin rolls her eyes “You aren’t complaining about chauffeuring Max.”

“Well yeah, cause it isn’t out of my way to get her.” Eddie gestures toward Max and that gets her attention.

She takes her headphones off her head. “What are you guys arguing about?” She asks irritated, “And what’s it got to do with me?”

“Nothing Max, I’m just giving Eddie a hard time about his big sappy crush.”

“Oh, you mean the one he has on Steve?”

Robin and Eddie both freeze.

“Wh—Who said it was Steve.” Eddie asks, voice flat.

“No one had to say anything; there is a reason why we call you both mom and dad. You aren’t subtle about it. DAD.” Max snarks back at him.

‘We. She said ‘We’. As in The Party has been calling me that.’ Eddie thinks. So that wasn’t just Steve trying to make him feel better that day on the phone.. They actually see him as a dad. ‘Well maybe; maybe it was just as a counter to Steve’s ‘Mom’. Why would they even see you as a role model?’

Fuck! He needs to stop his spiraling now. Otherwise he’s going to get in a mood and Steve will notice, and somehow think it was his fault and worry about him, and then no one will be having fun anymore an_ ‘What the fuck dude, you literally just told yourself to STOP. SPIRALING. and now you are doing exactly that.’

“Well then who am I??” Robin asks, putting on a fake offended tone to break the leftover tension.

“Hmmmm…” Max pushes her new glasses back up her nose “You’re like a kooky Uncle.”

“Uncle??” Robin actually sounds offended this time. “No, actually, that makes sense.”

Eddie chuckled at the acceptance of her new role, the storm that was whirling around in his head starting to dull. “Now was this a party decision, or is that just you, Mayfield?”

“Just me for now. I will make sure to plant the idea in Dustin’s head when we get there and I’m sure he’ll call a Meeting with the Council of Doofuses to get it in writing.” And with that, the headphones were back on.

Eddie and Robin share a look, and before much longer they are pulling into Steve’s driveway.

“God, I don’t think I will ever get over how dumb this house actually looks.” Eddie looked over at Robin curiously as she continued to berate Steve’s house while collecting her things, “It looks like whoever built it back in the 70s or some shit had no taste, even by that decade’s standards.”

“Buckley. You’re telling me that this whole time I’ve known you, we could’ve been making fun of these Loch Nora snobs’ houses.. together? I don’t think I will ever forgive you for this discretion.”

This earns Eddie another eye roll from Robin (and a muttered “You and your goddamn dramatics..”) as they both get out of the cab. Max is long gone, Steve’s front door standing open in her wake.

“So how did your sleepover go with Vickie anyway? You didn’t say anything about it..?” Eddie asks as he grabs his bag from the back.

“It was literally just a sleepover.. I thought the vibes were there but she wanted to talk about her jerk ex-boyfriend and about boys I like. By the way, I have an embarrassing crush on you, don’t tell anyone.”

Eddie laughed so loud, Steve’s neighbors must’ve heard him (no matter how far away the next house may be). “Damn, I’m sorry Buckley. I’m sure that Eddie guy will return your affections eventually.” Eddie joked, patting Robin of the shoulder as they stepped through Steve’s front door.

There were bags all over the entryway, and from the screams filtering down the hall from the sliding glass door, all the kids were outside and in the pool already.

Eddie kicked the door closed behind him and Steve peeked his head around the corner from the kitchen at the sound.

“Oh hey guys, just put your stuff wherever, everyone else is outside, and I’m getting the burgers ready to put on the grill. Robin, will you show Eddie where he can change?”

Eddie looked over when Steve said his name, pulling his attention back from looking at the boring interior of Steve’s house. Had he never been here before? No, not even at one of the old King Steve’s parties..

“How’s he never been over before? That’s so weird.” Robin said as she walked down the hall, waving at Eddie to follow.

“Buckley, get out of my head. I thought you were only supposed to have that weird mind-reading thing going on with Stevie.” Eddie chided her as he followed her to a small bathroom off the laundry room.

“You’re just jealous you can’t read his mind; maybe then you both would’ve gotten your heads out your asses sooner.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and closed the door on her smirking face. Setting his pack down on the small sink counter, he started to change.

“Fuck, I don’t want to do this.” Eddie whispered to himself. He wasn’t exactly a shy person normally, but that’s what all his layers are for.. a pool party automatically called for only about two thin layers, max. And now he had the added concern about his new (admittedly metal) scars that have only just healed all the way. Scars that not only stretched the length of his sides, but those damn bats had gotten to his face and literally took his whole left nipple off. Again, metal, but also gave Eddie about 10 or 11 times more insecure feelings that he hadn’t yet learned to cover completely under his perfectly crafted bravado.

Leaving his briefs on under his trunks, and pulling his faded Metallica shirt back on over the bumpy red scars, he packed his other layers into his bag for later and headed back out to the kitchen.

He nearly crashed into Steve as he was coming out of the laundry room and Steve was passing by with a plate piled high with patties in one hand, a six pack in the other, and bag of buns hanging out of his mouth.

“Oh shoot-- Hey, you need some help?” Eddie automatically reached for the bag of buns so Steve could answer.

“Robin already went outside to claim a chair, can you take this too?” Steve handed Eddie the six pack.

“No problem, Stevie.” Eddie smiled at him and started out the door in front of Steve.

“Thanks Eds.” *SMACK*

Silence.

“Oh. My. God. Eddie, I am so so sorry, it was just a reflex I swear! Even ask Lucas, it’s a sports thing, I didn’t mean anything by it..” Steve sounded completely stressed.

Eddie took a moment longer to process the fact that Steve Harrington just smacked his ass (reflex or not), before turning back to him halfway. Looking over at Steve, Eddie’s heart clenched to see him looking absolutely mortified.

“No worries big boy, I just didn’t realize that was on the table.” Eddie said, giving him a wink, then hurrying out of the house. He had to get out of there before he did something really embarrassing like dropping everything and jumping Steve’s bones at noon on a Thursday while there was a whole hoard of children nearby.

He stepped outside to various greetings of “Hey Eddie!” the most enthusiastic of which was Dustin, who had leapt from the pool to give a still dry Eddie a completely soaking wet hug around his middle.

“Hey Dusty-buns how ar--HOLY FUCK YOU’RE COLD! gET OFF ME!”

Dustin laughed at Eddie’s misery before jumping back into the pool (almost on top of Mike, who kicked away at the last second).

“Let me help with that, sweetheart.” Eddie heard Steve’s voice in his ear as he came up from behind him to grab the bag and six-pack from him and placing them on the table next to the grill with his burgers and the added plate of toppings he must’ve grabbed.

Sweetheart?? That was new...and most certainly did NOT make Eddie want to melt into a puddle, thank you very much.

Eddie knew he now looked completely sunburnt, despite just stepping outside a whole 30 seconds ago.

‘Ok, that’s how you want to play it, Harrington? First an ass smack, and now this??’ Eddie thought to himself. Time to crank up the flirting.

Eddie turned heel and marched back inside and directly to the freezer. He knew he had to have some in here somewhere, they are one of Dustin’s favorites.

‘Perfect.’ Eddie thought as he grabbed a cherry flavored popsicle, unwrapping it, and stepping back outside, grabbing a bottle of sunscreen as he went.

“Hey Stevie, can you help me out with this before your hands get all nasty?”

—————

“Yeah sure Eddie, what do you ne__” Steve turned around from starting the grill to face Eddie at his question. ‘Fucking hell, Munson.’

Eddie was staring at him with those damn doe eyes, holding out the bottle of sunscreen in one hand, and had a cherry-red popsicle held in the other. His already red lips wrapped around the end. ‘When’d he get that??’

Steve cleared his throat and took the bottle from him “Yeah of course, turn around.”

Eddie flashed that megawatt grin at him “Thanks sweetheart.” Steve felt his cheeks turning pink at that.

Eddie turned to face away from Steve, the hand that previously held the bottle coming up between his shoulder blades to pull his shirt over his head.

Steve noticed that Eddie didn’t pull the shirt all the way off his arms, just pulled it up and over his head so his head and back were free. A pang shot through his stomach at that ‘Of course he’s going to be self-conscious about his scars, fuck why did you think a pool party was a good idea?? Okay focus, just make sure to say something to him later on about them_oh fucking HELL’

Steve’s his train of thought imploded when Eddie decided to glance over his shoulder at Steve as he pulled his hair over the other with his free hand.

“This is going to be cold, sorry Eds.” How he had kept his voice sounding completely normal was a mystery to Steve, but now he had to focus on the fact that he’d be rubbing his hands all over Eddie.

He started at the small of Eddie’s back. Pushing the heels of his palms outward from Eddie’s spine where his fingers could come to a rest (however briefly) on either side of the older man’s waist and giving a slight squeeze.

Eddie’s breath hitched and Steve saw the blush bloom under the skin at the back of his neck. Deciding to ignore that (for now) Steve said “I told you it was going to be cold.”

“Shut up, Steve, it still caught me off guard.”

Steve chuckled and continued rubbing the lotion in, making sure to do a good job at covering every inch. Not just because he was loving being able to freely touch Eddie like this, but legitimately because he didn’t want Eddie to burn to a crisp.

He got up to Eddie’s shoulders and found some of his hair had slipped from the rest. Using a single finger, Steve brushed the stray lock from where it started behind Eddie’s ear, down across his neck and over the other shoulder. Eddie visibly shuddered and Steve smiled, “Sorry, your hair was in the way. We need to get you a hair tie.”

Finished with his back, Steve tapped Eddie on the shoulder, “OK you’re all good back here, do you want me to get your front too or have you got it covered?” giving the full King Steve smirk as Eddie turned back to face him causing him to blush more.

“I_I’ve got it.” Eddie stuttered, taking back the bottle.

How Steve managed to wrench his gaze from Eddie’s popsicle-red pout, he had no clue. “You might want to get your face done sooner than later, you’re already turning red.” Steve winked at a spluttering Eddie before turning back to the grill.

Eddie started grumbling behind him and Steve heard the rustle of fabric, assuming Eddie had fully removed his shirt now.

Glancing over his shoulder, Steve could see that Eddie was turned to face away from everyone else as he applied the sunscreen.

That pang went through Steve again, this time closer to his heart. He turned to Eddie again and came to his side so he could speak to him quietly “Hey, I know you probably don’t want everyone to see, but just know that no one here will give you shit for any of them. Or if they do, they’ll have to deal with me.”

Eddie had froze when Steve came up to him, but then tuned his face to look at him properly.

That same damn pang shot directly through Steve’s heart this time at Eddie’s big, lovely, eyes shining with unshed tears.

“Put your shirt back on if you need to, but if you want to leave it off, make sure to put extra lotion on the scars themselves..I made sure I did on the parts I could reach from your back.”

Eddie looked even more like he was going to cry now, but smiled gratefully at Steve and nodded. Steve smiled at him softy and went back to the grill to actually get food started for everyone.

And if he did notice that Eddie went back to his own sunchair, sans shirt, no he didn’t.

—————

Eddie had just barely sat down when Robin leaned over to him from her chair next to him “What in the actual hell was all that?”

“No idea what you’re talking about Robs.” Eddie said nonchalantly, laying back all the way in his chair.

“Uncle Robin, will you help me re-do my braids?” Max yelled from the other side of the pool before Robin could grill him any further.

‘Thank you Max’ Eddie thought. And just like Max had said he would, Dustin’s head whipped around to look at Robin who was already making room in front of her for Max to sit while she braided.

Eddie watched as Dustin scrambled out of the pool and up to Steve “Steve, do you have a pad of paper and a pen or something?”

“Wh_what? Uh, yeah there should be one in the kitchen. The third drawer down from the phone? Wait! Dry off a bit otherwise you’ll slip on the tile.”

Dustin rolled his eyes and mumbled a “Yes, mom.” under his breath as he walked over to the pile of towels. He grabbed one off the top, barely dusted himself off with it, and dropped it on the concrete before hurrying into the house, still soaking wet.

Eddie heard a small ‘Oh shit’ from Dustin that he could only assume meant he had slipped a bit on the tile like Steve said he would.

Dustin came back out in no time at all and called the rest of the goblins over to a small patio table on the other side of the pool. As soon as Max’s braids were done, she too went to the table, sidling up between Lucas and Eleven.

Dustin’s hand looked a blur as he would scribble something down to one thing someone said, then crossing other things out to a differnt comment. Eddie chuckled at the sight and leaned back again, closing his eyes.

After a bit, Steve walked over from the grill and sat at the end of Eddie’s chair, scooting his legs out of the way with his ass and grabbing a beer from the nearby cooler.

“You need more room for that thing, Harrington?” Eddie snarked, poking Steve’s hip with his foot before closing his eyes to the sun again.

“You need a new popsicle?” Steve flicked the end of the popsicle stick that was still hanging out of Eddie’s mouth.

“You just liked seeing me with something in my mouth.”

There was a pause, and Eddie felt the chair shift as Steve stood back up. He opened his eyes slightly when he felt the shade of Steve leaning over him. Steve’s face was right next to his, his mouth close to Eddie’s ear “And what if I did?”

‘Jesus H. Christ’ was Eddie’s only thought as he watched Steve(’s ass) walk back over to the grill.

Eddie had a bit of time to calm down after that when Steve yelled for everyone to come grab food, deciding to steer clear while the gremlins descended upon the feast and watch Steve ‘Mom’ over them all. “Grab napkins, Lucas”. “Mike put at least some lettuce on those, you need veggies too!”, “Dustin, cool it with the ketchup.”

That’s it. That was the last straw. Eddie’s in love.

‘Fucking hell.’ Eddie shot up from where he was laying and sat at the end of the chair instead. ‘Fucking hell..’ Eddie stood up and started pacing.

Every thought he’d ever had about Steve Harrington whipped through his mind like a hurricane. Every time he thought Steve was cute back in high school, the one (1) time he saw Steve in his Scoops Ahoy outfit before he vowed to never return to Starcourt, every time he was confused at seeing King Steve being the one there to pick up the Hellfire kids after their sessions, Steve’s reaction to being manhandled into the wall of Reefer Rick’s boathouse, his willingness to follow the kids there in the first place to come help Eddie of all people, insisting on being the one to dive into Lover’s Lake so the others didn’t have to (him stripping off his sweater when he did and tossing it to Eddie when Nancy was right there ogling him too), the sight of him sweaty, dirty and bleeding in the upside-down that Eddie just needed to get covered up before he’d lose his mind (again), then realizing his mistake too late when he now had to look at Steve in his battle vest, swearing he was catching Steve looking at his lips in the same hellscape, Steve carrying him out of there when they were successful but hadn’t all went too well for Eddie, Steve being there in the hospital when he woke up spouting off to Robin about ‘If Steve were gay, do you think he’d fuck me?’ (’...Eddie, I’m Bisexual.’ ‘Oh sweet! I can only write with my right hand..’), and then, fuck, now knowing that Steve was the one leaving him these sappy notes just because he thought Eddie looked hot in the School play? Being a mom to all these kids that didn’t get time to be kids until now?

Eddie was gone. And probably had been for a while.

By the time he came down from his spiral, he was halfway though a burger that somehow materialized in his hand.

“The fuck?” Eddie looked to Robin, Nancy, and Steve.

Steve sat up from where he was laying, already back in his own chair, empty plate sat on his leg, “Oh, uhm, you seemed to be out of it when I told you to come grab food so I tried handing you something so I’d know you’d eat. You took it and started eating so I figured you were OK.”

Eddie looked from Steve disbelievingly, to Robin disbelievingly. Then back to Steve. “Th_thanks Steve.”

“No worries, Eds.”

Eddie sat back down on the end of his chair and finished his burger, his mind adding this to his list of reasons to love Steve Harrington.

Dustin had stopped scribbling furiously on the lended pad of paper by now, and Eddie called out to him to get him to share, hoping to get his mood back on track.

“Dustybuns, what have you all been doing over there this whole time??” Dustin looks at Eddie, then back at the rest of the Council of Doofuses, then back to Eddie before they all approach the older teens laying out on Steve’s patio furniture.

Max and El came over with them too (even Erica), from where they had assuredly been watching the chaos unfold from their own sunchair. The boys were now almost bone dry. That’s how long they’d been going at this.

“We’ve had to add in a couple people to The Party Family Tree.”

“Oh yeah? Whatcha got?” Eddie says at the same time Steve says “Oh god, here we go..”

Dustin clears his throat, “OK so we start with Steve as the Mom. Obviously.”

Steve’s sat up on his lounger now, and hangs his head into his hands at that.

“Sure.” Robin affirms for the rest of them, encouraging Dustin to continue and ignoring the miserable noise Steve makes.

“Eddie is the dad.”

“Awe, Stevie!” Eddie places his hand over his heart, “Wait, when’s our anniversary?”

"You haven’t proposed yet.” Steve says into his hands.

“ANYWAY.” Dustin sounds loudly “So Steve and Eddie are the mom and dad. Robin is our Uncle on Steve’s side, Nancy is our Aunt on Eddie’s side.”

“Wait, what? Eddie laughs and looks over at Nancy who is trying to hold back her laughter behind her hand.”

“Yeah, and Hopper is Steve’s dad so I guess he’s our Grandpa.” Steve’s head snaps up at that.

“He’s old and crotchety enough.” Mike chimes in, shrugging.

“I am Jane Hopper so I am Steve’s sister now.” El says carefully, like she is remembering exactly how families work exactly.

Steve looks like he’s trying not to cry, looking at El with a small smile.

“What about Jonathan?” Robin asks, getting into it fully at this point.

Eddie could almost feel the weirdness hit Steve and Nancy at that, like a foot of snow falling all at once.

“He’s Steve’s oldest.” Dustin states matter-of-factly.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Yeah. He’s your oldest son; you had him way too young and he has already moved out.”

“He’s a little distant, but you know he’s happy out in Cali with his boyfriend and you see him on the holidays.” Will tells Steve, smiling brightly as the other kids laugh.

Steve, Eddie, and Nancy are honestly dumbfounded at the web they’ve woven around Mama Steve; Robin is absolutely delighted to find out about Steve’s firstborn. (”Who’s the baby daddy?” she asks him, getting a loud smack on her arm for it.)

Everyone’s waiting for Steve to say something.

He stands up, turns to face his brood, and opens his arms wide in invitation. They all crowd in around him and the mask drops off his face as he finally lets the tears start flowing.

Robin and Eddie glance at each other before throwing themselves around their hoard, Nancy coming up to Robin’s side.

“I love you guys.” Steve says, his voice thick.

After a good long moment, Mike pipes up from somewhere toward the middle of the pack “Okay this is great but it’s still a million degrees outside and somehow I ended up in the middle of this furnace.”

They all chuckle and separate from each other, some wiping tears away with their hands and others (Mike, Max, Erica) jumping back into the pool to disguise how wet their face may or may not have gotten.

Still wiping his tears away, Steve yells at them to “Dammit get back out so you can put more sunscreen on!” to choruses of “Yes, mom.” and more laughing.

“...So if Stevie and I get divorced, who gets which kids?” Eddie asks, and immediately has to start dodging Steve’s attempts to tackle him into the pool.

Dustin picks up the pad of paper and flips to a new page as the rest of them start yelling at him who they’d want to “stay” with.

----------

A few hours later it’s getting cooler, a sign of the fall to come. Steve manages to coax everyone back inside with the promise of pizza and movies.

Eddie and Robin had gone in before the rest of the kids to get changed and start piling pillows, blankets, and even a couple mattresses onto the floor of the living room. Pulling everything out before the rest came in and started getting changed. Eddie is the first to plop down on the massive floor bed, right in the middle.

Robin fell back onto the couch that was now an acting headboard, “So, any more news on the secret admirer front?” she asks, nudging him with her foot.

“Boy do I have a story for you, Robs.” Eddie grinned.

“You mean about your latest rose?” Max came into the room with El, piling themselves on Steve’s armchair with the fluffiest blanket in the pile.

“The one exactly, Red.”

“Ok good, then I can Ignore you for the next two hours.”

Eddie threw a pillow at her head at that.

“Max was there when you found it?” This time it was Will and Mike coming in with their bags of snacks and finding a spot to lay out.

“Actually, she was there when the guy left the rose.” Max said from the chair.

There was a clatter from the kitchen, then Dustin came barreling in from where he was helping Steve with dishes. “So you know who it is??” he asked Max

“No doofus, Eddie was with me when the guy left the rose at Eddie’s trailer.”

Another clatter from the kitchen.

“You OK Steve?” Robin asked.

“Peachy.” he called back.

“Wait, so you guys saw him leave it? So you know who it is??” Dustin continued.

Lucas came down the steps then, Max’s walkman in his hand. He handed it to her before getting comfy in front of the girls’ chair. Erica following and squishing herself into the corner of the loveseat.

“We saw him, but couldn’t tell who it was.”

“So here’s the thing,” Eddie starts “I was with Max that night while her mom was at work, my uncle was at his shift, AND my van was in the shop. My trailer was dark and both cars were gone. Of course he’d think it was safe to be a bit bolder and leave this one right at my doorstep.”

Being met with ‘Ahs’ of understanding, Eddie continued: “But what he must not know is that trailer walls are thin, and I know what the gravel outside my place, and that second squeaky step on the porch sound like when someone walks on 'em. So when we heard it from Max’s living room, we looked out to make sure it wasn’t some person trying to vandalize my shit again.”

Steve had come into the room and leaned against the doorframe a bit earlier, dishtowel thrown over his shoulder, and now looked like a deer caught in the headlights. ‘Gotcha.’ Eddie thought.

"But alas, the night was dark, and we could barely make out a figure before whoever it was ran off into the night.” Eddie waggled his fingers like he was telling a scary story

“They walked to your house??” Dustin asked

“No dipshit, they probably didn’t want to be recognized by their car” Mike shot back.

“Who has that recognizable of a car?” came Will’s small voice

“Besides Steve? I don’t know.” Erica chimes in

“Me??” Steve asked, actually confused

“Yeah Steve, everyone knows your beemer.” Dustin said, rolling his eyes.

“So when I went back home, the rose was there.” Eddie pulled it out of his inner jacket pocket. “This one says “Think of all the things We've shared and seen, Don't think about the way things might have been” Eddie sings the line.

“Wow, your voice is really pretty Eddie.” Eleven says, breaking the silence that followed.

“Thanks, supergirl.”

“Eddie those lyrics have to be a clue” Dustin says, always the analyzer

Eddie makes eye contact with Steve from across the room and smiles fondly.

“I know.”

_______________________________

Pt. 6 will be here!

Now on AO3! Several Notes of the Most Amiable Nature

Thank you to @lunaraindrop and @starkdusk for being the first ones to encourage my ‘Steve is a jock and would smack Eddie’s ass accidentally’ brainrot 🥰

Tagging everyone I can!!: @allbymyselfexceptformycactus @cutiecusp @lilfroggies @panicatthediaz @bigboyandmetalhead @pluto-pepsi @funnymagicman-named-dandy @cringeisdeadandsoami @minjintea @saramelaniemoon @thegingerrapunzel @lightwoodbanethings @largechaos @kato-hoeven @stevesworldxx @notsopersonalcharlie @estilosexy @original-cypher @gleefully-macabre @disasterlia @imnotsureiexist @blurryjoji @nightmareglitter @deleataecount @withacapitalp @quevadilla @aringofsalt @werewolfpeterparker @lipglossanon @edmunsn @maya-custodios-dionach @straight4joekeery @sideblogofthcentury @iamsotiredman @ladydorian05 @resident-gay-bitch @undreamingscatworld @haluton @tsukiwashere @eddiehashands @wrayofmoonshine @2btheanswertothequestion @a-bun-danceoflove @xstevex-world @infinityonsighhh @buttonupintoblue @lallagoupsidedown @homeofthepeculiar @nightmareglitter

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #secret admirer #secret admirer au #mine #st #st ficlet #stranger things #stranger things ficlet #steveddie #steve x eddie #1000

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petite-phthora · 8 months

Text

It's a date :)

[DP x DC fic]

[Love at first... murder? - part 9]

<< Prev | Next >>

Part 1

Ao3

---

Private chat nicknames:

RedHood = Jason

Danny = Danny

---

The next day, Jason wakes up with a yawn. He stretches, letting out a relieved exhale. That was one of the best nights of sleep he’s had in a long time.

Usually, the Pit’s bothering him, combined with hours of patrolling and fighting crime, usually getting injured as well, he usually wakes up sore and almost just as exhausted as he goes to sleep.

But now…

It was calm. He felt calm.

He didn’t quite dream, though that was fine, as he hadn’t had any nightmares either.

It was… refreshing.

Though, all of it is also kind of… unnerving…

All these good things happening?

The Joker finally dying, meeting a cute guy who doesn’t seem intimidated by him as Red Hood and taking him out on a date, the Pit barely bothering him, sleeping better than he had in years…

With all of that happening, Jason can’t help but wonder…

When is the other shoe gonna drop?

His good mood slightly dampened with disconcertion, Jason gets out of bed with a small grunt. He doesn’t bother to get changed yet, instead moving along to the kitchen to start on breakfast.

After taking in the groceries he has left, Jason starts making some simple bacon and eggs. He catches himself humming while cooking and abruptly stops, continuing his cooking with a small frown on his face.

Why is he feeling this… this… good?

Just what is happening with the Pit?

He’s not enchanted or drugged or anything, is he?

It’s all the unknowns that are making Jason slightly worried.

Are his emotions still his own?

He feels like most of his worries have been stripped from his body. He feels way more comfortable in his skin. He feels happy, content, tranquil…

He just feels so much.

…

But still no rage.

He eats his breakfast while he ponders over his newfound emotional state. It’s as he eats that his eyes land on his phone.

The Bats have probably blown up his phone with calls and messages in the meantime.

And the fact that he doesn’t feel as irritated or mad as he should about it is another point of slight concern.

Either way. Ugh, Jason still doesn’t really want to deal with it.

However…

After he has put his plate away, he picks up his phone anyway and turns it back on. Sure enough, he has too many missed calls and unread messages. And it seems that with his ‘online’ status, some are encouraged again and start sending him more texts.

Jason ignores it all in favor of doing what he had planned to do when turning his phone back on anyway, messaging Danny.

Just so that he has Jason’s number as well

…

And perhaps to plan another date meetup, he thinks with an involuntary soft smile on his face.

---

Private chat

RedHood: Hey, it's Red Hood. Just checking in and making sure you also have my number.

RedHood: In case of emergency, of course.

Danny: hi!! 👋😊

Danny: it’s Danny!! 😁

Danny: which you already knew..

Danny: obviously 😅 😅

RedHood: I do now.

RedHood: Who knows, you could’ve given me the wrong number.

RedHood: It’s good to have the confirmation that it’s you :)

Danny: ahh yes!

Danny: good point 👉

RedHood: So, I was wondering if you had the time to meet again sometime this week?

RedHood: I can show you around the city, y’know? Like I mentioned yesterday? :)

Danny: !!!

Danny: yes!! 😁

Danny: that sounds like fun! ☺️ 🙃

Danny: and very useful 🤔

Danny: it’s good to know where not to go 😌

Danny: so I don’t kill another clown 🤡

Danny: haha

Danny: not that I’m like planning on killing another clown! 😰

Danny: no sir, there is no murder on this agenda!! 🙅 🙅

Danny: clowns or otherwise

RedHood: Haha, I didn’t think so.

RedHood: It was pretty clear to me it was self-defense anyway, don’t worry :)

RedHood: Even if it wasn’t, it was the Joker. So who, other than the Bat, cares?

RedHood: And it’s not like I can judge.

Danny: ah, good good

Danny: didn’t want my first impression to be being a murderer 😅 😅

Danny: that’d be bad 😓

RedHood: You don’t need to worry.

RedHood: You made a pretty good first impression in my opinion :)

RedHood: So, when are you free? For the meetup?

RedHood: I can come pick you up at your apartment again, if you want?

Danny: oh yeah that’d be nice!! 😊

Danny: and uhh, lemme check my school schedule real quick brb

Danny: alright, so I have classes till like 12.30 today

Danny: but I’m free from then on 🙃

Danny: minus like, time I need to eat lunch and stuff 😅 😅

Danny: does that work for you?

Danny: I mean else I could probably do like thursday or something 🤔

Danny: if that works better??

RedHood: Today works just fine. And we can pick up some lunch on the way if need be. My treat :)

RedHood: I’ll come pick you up around 1 pm then?

Danny: it’s a date!! 😁

Danny: I mean sure, totally! it’s not a date!! 🙅 🙅

Danny: unless you want it to be a date?.. 👀

Danny: I mean did you mean for it to be a date?

Danny: is it a date? 🤔 🤔

Danny: I mean I don’t wanna assume 😅

Danny: and like

Danny: I wouldn’t mind if it was a date.. 👀

Danny: or if it wasn’t a date!!

Danny: wouldn’t mind that either, of course 😅

Danny: I just wasn’t quite sure where we stood 😓 🥺

Danny: and what the context of the meetup was

Danny: ..?

Danny: Red Hood??

RedHood: It’s a date.

RedHood: ;)

---

Jason goes offline and turns his phone back off, still pointedly ignoring all the unread messages and missed calls from the Bats. He slides it onto and across the table in front of him and proceeds to put his arms down in front of him, resting his face on them.

Soft smile still on his face and cheeks colored faintly pink, Jason closes his eyes.

It’s a date…

---

Taglist:

@i-always-say-yea @uraniumwizard @why-must-i-be-like-this @griffinthing

#dp x dc #dp x dc fic #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #dead on main #dead on main ship #jason having no more worries and feeling genuinely happy and in love: are these drugs? am i drugged?#jason who never uses smileys unless to flip someone off: *uses smileys to hopefully put danny a bit at ease/make him a little less nervous*#oh and for those who are confused #Jason put Danny in his contacts as 'Nova'. In-chat nicknames will not be the same as contact names #also i love how it doesnt occur to jason that it might be strange for the ppl of gotham to see red hood going out during the day #like he planned the date as red hood and thats what danny knows him as and stuff #but still going about as red hood when going on an actual date + during the day and stuff doesn't seem like a great idea tbh #oh well

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finniestoncrane · 1 year

Text

Getting Head

Riddlers and Rogues x GN!Reader this is a redo of this old post here that only had 5 riddlers and a handful of rogues so i decided to do a big update with everyone i write for! request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw for nsfw stuff: oral sex

💚 Riddlers 💚

arkham

daddiest of all the daddies, definitely a gentle touch. he would need talked into getting head as a form of stress relief when he's too absorbed in his work because he's not the best at taking a break. he'd be very grateful once he was over the initial irritation of having to put his tools to the side. lots of praise, holding your hair back or brushing it out of your face, easing you onto him to help set the pace. he's more than willing to teach you how to do it to his preferences perfectly. he likes pulling out to cum, just to make a mess of you. "remember how we practiced your breathing, or were you not listening during my lesson? despite your inattention, you're being so good. this is definitely where your genius lies."

capullo

this disgusting man is desperate for a sloppy bj at all times of the day. he'll whine, beg, bribe and prod you, whatever it takes to get you on your knees and doing his wishes. he's not a nice boy when you've got his cock in your mouth. it makes him a bit feral, emphasises his ego and the self-imposed power status he has. he'll slap your cheek with his dick or his hand, and will call you his slut. he likes to finish with his head pressed right to the back of your throat as you choke around him, and when he's done you better be drooling and spitting his cum out over your lips and onto your chin. "don't choke, jesus. savour this moment! you should be grateful i'm even letting you suck my cock. i'm the fucking riddler! this is a priviledge."

dano

he likes you on your knees looking up at him all angelic and sweet, something for him to corrupt finally. you have to maintain eye contact with him the whole way through because he is desperately needy for love and affection. he has a thing about wearing his mask during sometimes, for the power. he'll hold your hair and push you down onto him if he's in that kind of mood. he likes having his balls squeezed hard during because he's a sucker for pain and punishment and he loves cumming over your chest. "oh god, i'm the boss. i'll show you who's in charge here, i'm in control, i have the power. you're mine and i own you... uh... if that's ok... please..."

young justice

total sweetheart, but a whimpering simp of a man. he'll fall apart the minute you take a hold of him and about two seconds in will be asking you to slow down or loosen up or stop completely so he can gather his strength up, otherwise he'll be making a mess way too quickly. he needs constant reassurance and some validation about how pretty his dick is, and if you could also lie and say he's the biggest you've ever seen that would help too. "was it... good for you? it was very good for me but you are so important... to me... so... am i a good boy?"

gotham

honestly, he could get off without the sucking or licking and have his needs fulfilled entirely by cockwarming in your mouth. otherwise, it can get too overstimulating for him and send him into a little tizzy. either way, the whole time you're down there, he will be conjuring up riddles and scheming away, and there's a lot of potential for him to forget you were there completely until he feels the sudden urge to cum. "ah but do you know why they're called blowjobs? well it's very interesting in fact! it actually goes back to..."

unburied

my god he's a particular little shit. you'd think he would be grateful that someone could tolerate him long enough to be willing to suck his dick, but no. the entire time, he's offering his opinion and critiques. it's almost like he gets off on insulting you. which... yeah that's exactly what it is. he's not necessarily rough, but he's not very gentle either. he'll thrust up into you when you least expect it. and he'll cum wherever and whenever he wants, he's going with the flow baby. "don't fuck about, use your tongue. faster! oh my god if you take any longer i'm going to get bored, genuinely. here, move, let me show you how it's supposed to be done."

telltale

you better put your best effort into this. tongue deftly flicking, lips poised and pouted, teeth back and away. take him in completely until your nose touches the tuft of grey hair at the base of his cock and he's tempted, though not willing, to offer you a compliment based on your efforts. but he can't have you thinking that you're any good at this, that would mean you had nothing to learn and there were less opportunities to practice. "please, don't disappoint me. as much as it would be detrimental to your self-esteem to do a bad job, i can assure you i will be so much worse for your already fragile ego."

twojar

his preferred method of dominance to be honest. there's something about the servitude, that you're doing it for him, that drives him wild. although credit to him, he is willing to let you enjoy yourself. in fact, he encourages it. if you could moan around his cock while you take him in, it'll only make him feel all the more powerful. he also prefers to be completely nude while you're giving him head, you can dress however you want, but his body deserves to be worshipped properly. "brains, brawns, i'm everything. it's no wonder you're down there salivating over me. tell daddy how much you like it."

💜 Rogues 💜

scarecrow

jonathan needs eye contact because he wants to see your eyes water, the tears or makeup running down your face and staining your cheeks. he likes to stretch you to your limits, mentally and physically. he likes to see how rough he can be before you're at breaking point, begging him to ease up or to stop. and he enjoys the sound of you gasping and choking for breath. if you're not afraid, you should at least pretend to be, because it's key to his ability to cum. "are you trembling? is it out of fear, or are you just very nervous? because i would be nervous too, if i were you."

two face

harvey is a gentle, if not slightly overly-enthusiastic participant. two face is a face fucker. where harvey might ease himself in and then get a little bit rough the closer he is to cumming, two face is shoving himself all the way in and taking it all the way back out so that your mouth makes an obscene popping noise, and if it doesn't, he'll choke you. harvey might choke you too, actually, but only if you've agreed to it. and if he can convince himself that there isn't a risk he might go too far. "which side will the coin land on baby? spitting or swallowing? or shall we do heads and tails for whether i'm cumming on your face or if you're going to bend over and show me your ass?"

penguin

oswald doesn't even need to cum, give him five minutes of your time just slurping on him and he'll be more than happy to throw you some spending money and take you out to dinner that evening. bonus points if you're willing to set up camp under his desk all day and give him something else to think about if his meetings are too stressful or boring. and don't feel the need to keep quiet. he's got proud sugar daddy vibes and he'd rather his colleagues knew the kind of power he had. in fact, he'd really enjoy you under a table anywhere. "this is a classy joint babe, the food takes a while to come out of the kitchen. so be nice to daddy and get under the table. you do a good job and you can have something nice and shiny afterwards, alright?"

ivy

ivy is the sweetest receiver of head. to the point where it almost feels like you're being pleasured just from her sweet words alone. she's hands on, and very keen to encourage you, stroking your hair, running her fingers over your shoulders or cheeks. she's also pretty good at directing you or helping herself along if you need some assistance. completely judgement free! she just knows herself better than anyone, but she's very keen to have you learn. "please remember that the longer you're down there, the more in love with me you're going to be. through no fault of my toxins."

mad hatter

jervis needs to know that you're having a good time while you're sucking him off, so he'll interrupt you to get confirmation that you're still very much into this. but it's fine because he doesn't mind stopping constantly. he's got a bit of a thing for the teasing, the edging, the almost orgasm denial of it all. it makes him feel extra grateful when he finally cums and you lap him up like breakfast tea. "the way your mouth can move my sweet, you really serve up quite the treat. this is wonderful, thank you, thank you!!"

harley quinn

vocal receiver of head. squealing and giggling and calling you every pet name she can think of when her mind isn't complete mush. she needs you to be silly, sloppy, loud, a little bit crazy. you can't take it too seriously, you're there to have fun, and she is definitely there for the joy. but you better make sure she comes because if you don't there will be severe and serious repercussions. "oh puddin' right there! and if ya even think about stopping i'll smother you with my thighs, ok! now KEEP GOING!"

bane

yeah there's a lot of eduardo that's definitely throbbing and massive, and his cock is no different. so rather than stretch you out and damage you, he's more than happy for you to lick on him like you're trying to get to the centre of some lollipop. he'd find it admirable if you tried to take him in your mouth, but your lips around his head and your tongue running up his shaft is plenty for him. "ah, you're strong-willed but all i need is your tongue and your smile, and your determination to get me to where i need to go."

zsasz

teeth. teeth. teeth. something about the sharp twang of pain against the pleasure of having your mouth wrapped around him, sweet and sour. and also, while you've got your lips around his head, if you could also take a hold of his cock and dig your nails in? maybe scratch just a little bit along the underside? something that'll make him hiss as well as moan would be absolutely delightful and he'd be more than happy to mark you anywhere you want with his cum as a reward. "harder, harder... harder, come on, really sink your teeth in. do it for me, how could you ever say no? and deny me this pain and pleasure?"

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ryloriee678999 · 2 years

Note

I loved this fic and I was thinking maybe could you do that aftermath you was talking about? Your fics are absolutely AMAZING🤩

Getting Better (Otherwise) Part 1

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

A/N: Hope you're doing okay Anon!! I wasn't really sure what to do but I Hope you like it <3 It gets pretty angsty in the second part so feel free to skip it.

Summary: Aftermath of ‘I Don't Care If It Hurts Me, I Care If It Hurts You.’ Recovery is messy but it doesn't always have to be. (1800 words)

Warnings: Withdrawal, substance abuse, relapse, angst.

It’s been a week after your relapse, a week clean. You couldn't believe you were starting over again. For the first time, you weren't alone in this. Wanda was by your side every single second of the day. She ignored her calls, stayed in your room, and took care of you. She didn't trust you to be alone and it was annoying at first but you knew where she was coming from.

On another note, your relationship with her got much stronger. You were with her every day after never interacting with each other prior. You really got to know her, you knew everything she liked, how she grew up, and what her favorite foods are; but that was the only positive thing that came out of this. The hardest part was the crash. When you woke up after Wanda put you to bed, immediately you craved more. Wanda must've read your mind because she woke up right before you could get out of bed. She held you closer no matter how much you tried to get out of her grip. The feeling never went away though, you knew you’d always want more.

You were thankful there were no visible symptoms. No shaking, sweating, or vomiting. You wouldn't want to put Wanda through that so you were happy that didn't happen. Although other psychological effects were hitting you hard, you missed the elevated mood that came with drugs. Without it, you didn't think you could be happy even if the happiness you felt from the pill was all chemical.

Other than the irritability and tiredness, you were dreading one more thing: Talking to Wanda. She had so many questions but you were able to avoid them or brush them off. She would never push you to talk but you knew she wanted to know why, how, and when this all started. But she never wanted to back you into a corner so she waited until you started talking.

One day in bed, you lay there feeling tired but not able to sleep. It felt like your entire body was burning but you made no move to fix that. That's when Wanda walked in, she could tell something was off and wondered what happened. She was just outside the bedroom, peeking in to see how you were doing.

“Are you okay,” she asks, as she appears at the door. It was a stupid question to ask but she meant well.

“Mmhm,” You hum in response. You move so that you’re not on your back staring at the ceiling, instead, you look to face her. After a few seconds of silence, anxiety brushes over you when you finally find it in yourself to speak. “I think I'm ready to talk.”

Wanda's mouth opens in surprise but she quickly closes it. “You don't have to,” she assures you but sits on the bed next to you to listen.

“I want to.” You take a deep breath before speaking, you didn't even know where to start but once you started talking you couldn't stop. “I started a few years ago. It wasn’t anything at first, just a few times a month with friends. Then that wasn't enough and things got out of hand. I tried stopping but then,” your voice starts to falter in shame, “I couldn't.”

“When I joined the Avengers, it was enough of a distraction for me to stop. Then missions got harder and I just kept failing.” You remembered after every hard work day all you wanted to do was feel better. Drugs helped you relax when it felt like everything wrong was your fault. “I guess it just made things easier. They made me happy.”

“I never had to worry about it affecting anyone else. As long as it was only me, it was okay to keep doing it. But the look on your face when I overdosed.” You sigh, tears starting to fall. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry for crying,” you apologize again through deep inhales. “I’m making you do all of this. I'm sorry.”

“You’re not making me do anything, do not apologize,” she said in the softest voice you’ve ever heard. Her hand grips firmly to yours. The way she was so patient with you made you cry harder. “Don't apologize, okay, you’re doing your best. I know it’s hard but you’ve gone a week, and I'm so proud of you.”

A small smile formed on your face. Wanda pulling you into a hug only makes you feel better, your arms wrap around her back and hers around your torso. “It’s so hard to stop,” you admit, “especially when a part of me still doesn't want to.” Wanda squeezes you tighter. “You can do it, you made it through this week, you'll make it through the next one.”

You really wanted to believe that with the help of Wanda you could do that, but it was just so hard. These past seven days have been the hardest days in your life, harder than any fight or mission you’ve been on. “I hope so,” you say, voice still trembling.

You detach from her only to look her in the eyes, “I don't know what I'd do without you.”

Wanda smiles, “I don't know what I’d do without you either, malysh.” Her hands go to hold the side of your head as she kisses the top of your forehead. The action makes warmth fill up your body.

Drugs could never simulate how you felt right now.

You made it through the next three weeks. It was hard but you did it. During this time, you formed a romantic relationship with Wanda. You also let the other Avengers into what was happening, of course, they were supportive but felt bad for not noticing sooner. They didn't know too much but it was enough to get you put on break until things were under control. Lately, you’ve been happy and it felt like everything was getting better.

But recovery isn't linear.

The cravings didn't go away. Sometimes, the feeling was in the foreground while you did things, but other times you couldn't stand it. So you could sense from a mile away that you would relapse. It was like it was bound to happen.

Shame filled your body when it did happen. You didn't care how huge a setback to recovery this was, you cared about how Wanda would react. She would be so disappointed in you, all of that time with her was for nothing.

The guilt wasn't enough to throw away what you bought and used. You told yourself this was the last time but you knew it was a lie. You hated how quickly you gave in.

A week went by, no one seemed to notice as the drug binge took place. You tried your hardest to hide how messed up you were. You cleaned up the evidence, making sure there was no trace of anything.

The paranoia was unbearable. Every glance from Wanda made you think she found out. Every time she said she wanted to talk made you terrified. But she could never find out, you’ve been so careful.

Not careful enough though.

Today you come home to Wanda holding up a small plastic bag.

You put your hands up defensively. Your eyes widen at what she's holding in her hand. “I don't know what that is,” you lie, panic filling up your voice. “Why are you lying to me?” She asks, her voice being weirdly calm terrifies you further.

“I swear that was the last of it, I'm done,” you try to convince.

“You’re in denial, love. What happened?” She questions as she drops the bag on the floor and goes to hold your hand. Immediately you step away from her, something about her suddenly makes you feel unsafe. You were horrified at the way she was looking at you.

When you don't respond, she slowly steps closer. “Did you ever think how hard this was for me? Do you know the toll this has taken on me?” She says loudly, her voice no longer soft and caring.

You flinch before staring at her in shock at the words that just left her mouth. A part of Wanda regretted it but it wasn't enough to get in the way of her feelings. “You let me down and now you won't even tell me what happened? It’s like I have to beg you to speak.”

“I can’t listen to this,” you say and walk away from her. You’re just about to leave when something stops you. “Sit down!” she demands, red flaring in her eyes. Suddenly you feel yourself flying towards the couch, landing harshly. Quickly you adjust to sitting down properly as she walks closer. Your jaw tenses up as tears burn in your eyes. She stares at you, noting how you almost look lifeless.

“Why?” She questioned. “Don't you realize what you’re doing is killing me?”

You block her out. She’s practically talking to herself at this point. Your mind keeps replaying what she said before she threw you onto the couch. ‘Did you ever think how hard this was for me?’ You knew what she was saying was out of anger but you couldn't help but feel like you burdened her.

Her voice is in the background until she kneels in front of you when she realizes you're not listening. You finally look at her, Wanda's eyes matching your own with tears. “It’s hard to see you do this again,” she says in a low voice.

You nod, “I know. I’m going to stop.” It's said in a natural way that Wanda could tell you’ve said it before.

“Words aren't enough. I need you to be here with me, baby. You need to stop, don't just say you will.” Things seemed to calm down but Wanda was still crying. “I’m sorry I said all of that. It was selfish, this isn't about me,” she apologized.

Silence fills the room before you could say what you’d been thinking. “But it’s true, isn't it? I’ve made things worse for you?” You question. You felt stupid for not taking her feelings into account. She's been there for you 24/7 and you never cared to ask if she was okay.

“No, baby that's far from the truth,” she promises. “You make everything better, I love you.” That was the first time you heard her say that, it only made your heart shatter more. “I just don't want you to get hurt again, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper.

Wanda smiles and then stands up, to engulf you in a hug. Although what she said was ingrained into your mind, it was a push to get you clean. Even if you couldn't do it for yourself, you’d do it for Wanda.

The next day came around and you were back to square one. One day sober, but Wanda assured you that we all have to start somewhere.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff fanfic #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x female!reader #mcu fanfiction #wanda fanfic #wanda fanfiction #tw substance abuse

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twenytwenytwo · 1 year

Text

Nov 9 2022

Quick details: The Volvo is alive again. My sleep pattern these days seems to be sleep 4 hours straight, then hour by hour for the next 4. Anxiety low-zero, mostly zero though. I don’t think about anxiety all day basically, but sometimes am unrelaxed, unfocused.

I feel, as I’m sure others do, like I have to get my “shit together”. Like I gotta figure it all out, get my life in perfect order before I can allow myself to relax. I feel like I have to gaze over each department of my life, and feel “Yeah!!” otherwise something is off, like a barely crooked picture on the wall, irritating you from afar.

Perfect order to me would be a combination of feelings and circumstances.

1. I’d have a band of guys I love hanging out with; good friends basically, who I make great music with that is tight and dangerous.

2. A job that is well paying and not taxing on my mind. I still feel attracted to blue collar sorta jobs, despite embarking on the videography journey. I like doing video, I just wish there was no aspect of it that encouraged me to be cool or the best, that sorta vibe. Chimney sweeping sounds simple, kinda fun, and like it doesn’t matter in this relaxing way. Nobody cares, nobody is tryna be cool and getting the head in a knot.

3. A sexy girl who is crazy about me, and I’m crazy about her. I want to fuck. I want to have fun and relax together. Have kids and a home. A grassy property with a studio, some ocean, firewood, chickens n shit. Maybe have some like minded neighbours, who can come over and jam, or sit around the fire in the eve.

Feelings would be excitement, discovery, enjoyment, satisfaction. Potentially vague there, yeah, but oh well.

These are things that make me perceive life more fondly, make me feel like I am winning, and thus put me in a generally better mood where I’m focused on things I like.

“The hardest thing to do in life is focus on your dreams, the easiest thing to do is complain.”

Perhaps all this time spent philosophizing, going for endless walks, trying to articulate my thoughts is just another form of complaining. I’m focused on what’s wrong and not on what I want to/should be doing, like when you’re complaining.

The best thing I can say, while I continuously go off into tangents, is that all that comes into your life should be accepting your invitation. I feel like I’ve forced things into being in my life so far, coerced, tricked, deceived, to get my preference. Why is that bad? Because it’s unenjoyable, anxiety encouraging. In fact, the place that approach comes from is anxiety, and ultimately fear, fear that unless we muscle things, things won’t go our way. It lacks imagination and confidence. If a circumstance is to be, trying to force it to persist longer than it wants to is exhausting and sucks the colour from life. Nothing should take muscle, or coercion, otherwise you will not enjoy because that process takes all your energy.

I’ve learned this in my relationship with Ethan, and my relationship with Izabel. I used muscle to preserve them, which simply postponed the inevitable, and made me anxious and fearful. The anxieties of this past year were all about the immense pressure I put on this circumstances to give me everything I wanted, and secretly thought that losing them would be catastrophic. Ultimately, I lost them, and lived out that mental catastrophe, unaware of what psychological processes were unravelling within me, unaware of what I had been sowing, and now reaping. I was so anxious to be a success, in the vague sense.

- interupted

Tangent: The powerful human desires are like beasts who can be put to work. If they have no task, no ultimate goal, no hamster wheel to run in, no load to pull, they get annoying to experience, because they are roaming the woods looking for something rip apart out of boredom.

Tangent: The desire to be famous, or just kinda huge and superior, “wow they’re so ____, I wanna be like them, and be friends” is the desire to feel like you’re part of a community that values you. To have a role that those around you respect and value, and to feel like (as a result) people wouldn’t hesitate to talk to you, or think fondly of you, or invite to their party or whatever. The desire for fame, cultural significance, is a desire for safety and love from your fellow humans, to be part of something beautiful and life enriching. To celebrate life together and laugh without a doubt. Why are we so bad at identifying that? Perhaps it’s a result of increasing atomization in the world my generation grew up in, rise of useless roles, cubicles, and that cultural icons best illustrated the feeling of value, connection, and celebration of community and wonder. Why is it that we want to achieve that through fame? Perhaps because there’s no way to really “get” friendship, whereas you can (not really tho) “get” fame. It’s a singular checkpoint in the mind whereas friendship is a constantly changing thing, without a clear checkpoint, or point of “got it!”.

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keefwho · 2 years

Text

August 19

12:00 PM

I just need to stop, I can’t take this anxiety. I literally am too tired to deal with it right now. I want it all to stop. Its so STUPID, none of it makes any sense. It’s a bunch of broken thought processes. That makes it all the more irritating.

1:58 PM

I’ve got a challenge ahead of me, I can do this. I want to break free from this constant worry. Remember that I keep expecting the worse, but nothing should be as bad as I imagine it. It’ll be a normal week going forward. The people in the area are probably normal people and don’t even know it might storm or simply don’t care. They don’t obsess over this like I do. What I do is abnormal, I aim to be like all these other people. They put into perspective that my worry is unfounded. SO many people don’t think about this kind of thing daily so it must not be a big deal. I’m okay, I’m healthy and that’s normal. It’s normal to find distractions to pass the time. I don’t have to monitor my stomach, it does me no good. I should be focusing on things I like to do.

I might be lonely this weekend but that’s okay too. I shouldn’t be, I can always hop on VR with other people. And I can still message my friends. I feel like I puppy left home alone right now. Maybe because while I CAN hang out with other people, I can’t just start approaching them with my problems. I don’t feel the same kind of comfort around them as I do my bestest friends.

Remember not to expect the worst, expect neutral.

Also remember that even though having and actual stomach virus would be miserable, it’s almost impossible I could get one right now. It’s very rare as it is for people that actually go outside. I’m completely safe, and I’d know if I had something that bad.

2:24 PM

I keep thinking that I’ve gotten worse over time but I think it might just be that I’m aware of it. I’ve always had these kinds of feelings but the difference before is that I would avoid them so much. Now I’m not avoiding them at all and I’m finding that they are much more present than I thought.

4:21 PM

How do I know if I’m being too much to my friends. How can I tell if I’m not wanted. I don’t think I can. Sometimes people don’t speak up and will keep putting up with you. I don’t want to bother anybody.

I’ll try to be brave. No one else should have to deal with me dumping my problems on them without asking.

4:54 PM

I don’t know why I feel like this today. I just want to lay down, cry, and stop existing. Everything is so hard these days and I don’t even have a light at the end of the tunnel I’m fighting for. Everything is uncertain. I feel alone through all of it.

6:32 PM

Time for more shameful documentation of my actual insanity. Neck hurts, tummy rumbles, I get scared for no reason. I submitted for a bit and napped while balled up in my hoodie in my chair. Woke up, took my temperature, it’s totally normal. I gotta remember it’s basically impossible to be sick, so stop thinking about it. Being healthy is normal, the evidence is all around me. AND I can still feel healthy and feel like shit. My neck still hurts and the nap made it worse. Sure I don’t feel perfectly great but I feel okay and thats normal behavior. No matter how I feel, realistically nothing terrible will happen in the near future. I will NOT get sick, and the storms will likely be weak. Its not the end of my life. All this will be over soon and things will go back to normal.

My friends don’t hate me, their behavior proves otherwise. Someone that doesn’t want to be around me wouldn’t willingly be around me.

I’m not a bad person, I’m just in a bad mood. I’ll probably feel better tomorrow.

6:57 PM

Pretend no storms are gonna happen. Then what? Then Im just dealing with the usual and trying not to get too bored. It would be comforting not having to put up with even more stuff I cant control. I bet there wont even be any windy storms, theres barely been any word of their severity. Im worrying for nothing. Ill probably feel silly when its all over just like last time.

Ive been deep in the anxiety. I don’t even know what I want. Who do I want to be and what do I want to do. I dont know, I just know I want to feel better. But then what? I’ll just be bored and go back to worrying because it’s the easiest thing to feel.

I guess who I want to be right now is the guy that would look forward to drinking on a Friday night with literally anyone. And then doing something productive and creative when social time is over. I’d eat a lovely drunk dinner and go to bed. Im not sure if I can achieve that right now but its an idea to keep in mind at least.

7:42 PM

Who even am I anymore. My fear has been ruling my life for weeks now. I’m not me, I’m a cocoon covered in my stupid problems. I’m not the guy that gets his work done and stands as a pillar on his own anymore. I’m a loser. I feel like every day I lose a little more personality. The dynamics with ALL my friends has changed and it’s all my fault. I HAVE to figure this shit out, I don’t want to slip any further. I miss what I used to be, I felt much more confident. Right now I feel confused as to why anyone bothers to be my friend. Or like the only reason anyone likes me is if I draw for them or something. I used to be more fun and do more things. These days I stick to whats comfortable because I’m afraid of slipping into a panic.

9:26 PM

Still neck deep in this crisis. There’s so much to untangle I don’t even know where to start. Maybe I’ll rant about it later. Right now my eyes hurt and I need to be eating something.

I’m all alone and no one is thinking about me. I’ve got no one but myself right now.

11:44 PM

I’ll try my best to not overthink things tomorrow and take the day as it comes. I’ll try to stay disciplined and act in ways that foster the kind of way I want to behave.

There are so many problems to tackle, its best to do them one at a time. If I conquer my anxiety for a little bit and start to feel worthless or something, then so be it. Eliminated my anxiety is my first goal. Other things can come later. I think the biggest thing is acceptance. Acceptance that my fears COULD happen, but are not destined. Some things will always be out of my control, but others will stay in my control. I can only do what I’m able.

12:05 PM

I think I’ve had my emotional time. I’ve kinda been going ham letting things spill out everywhere but it’s time to reign it in a little bit I think. Let it out more appropriately. I’ll try to distract myself more in the hopes that I won’t actually be DISTRACTING myself, but instead actually doing things that bring me meaning.

#journal

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

We’ve heard Jiang Fengmian as WWX’s bio father, now it’s time for Lan Qiren as secretly his father. (Please no Wangxian for this one!)

ao3

“You want me to what,” Lan Qiren said.

“Be the father of my child,” Cangse Sanren said. Simply and straightforwardly, as if that were just a thing people said.

Casually.

To their friends.

To their – as far as he knew – platonic friends!

“You’re married,” he stressed.

“Yes, Qiren-xiong, I’m aware,” Cangse Sanren said, her eyes bright with mirth. “I was even there through some of the festivities. Though not all, of course, since the bride gets sent away far too early at these things, and of course then there was all the liquor –”

“Cangse Sanren,” Lan Qiren said through gritted teeth, wishing not for the first time that his friend had an actual name rather than merely a title – something he could use or not use to emphasize his feelings on the subject.

She laughed at him, because of course she did.

“Let me explain,” she said, probably because she sensed that he was considering stabbing her if she didn't. “Lao Wei and I –”

“Aren’t you older than he is?” Lan Qiren asked, dubious. “Possibly by several centuries?”

“Humans call their husbands that,” Cangse Sanren said, waving her hands at him. “Don’t bother me with details.”

“…you’re human, right?”

“Of course! This is the fourth time you’ve asked, and the answer hasn’t changed. Why would you ever think otherwise?”

“The way that you continuously refer to – no, I’m not letting you distract me this time. Explain yourself!”

Cangse Sanren giggled into her sleeve. “We want children,” she said. “But he can’t, you see. Wrong parts. So we need someone else to be the sire, and I want it to be you.”

“Why?”

More giggling. “Because I like you. And why not?”

“And Wei Changze agreed to this?” Lan Qiren asked, slightly appalled. He knew Cangse Sanren well enough to assume that the answer had to be yes, and yet still...

“Yes, he did, but you’re welcome to talk with him directly. In fact, I encourage it.”

“Perhaps I will,” Lan Qiren said.

Wei Changze was a pleasant person, even if he and Lan Qiren weren’t direct friends – Lan Qiren was a bit too inflexible and serious, Wei Changze a little too free-spirited and light-hearted, so they’d never entirely bonded, but they were both very fond of Cangse Sanren in all her strangeness, each in their own way, and that was enough of a basis for a decent relationship.

“I’d be honored if you would agree,” Wei Changze said when Lan Qiren asked. “You’re my wife’s favorite person besides me – why not you?”

Lan Qiren could think of many, many reasons why not.

“I don’t want to impact your relationship with her,” he said cautiously, and Wei Changze blinked at him as if to say how would it do that? “If jealousy were to arise…”

“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Wei Changze said.

“…you understand that if I agree to your proposal, I would be sleeping with your wife.”

“Oh yes,” Wei Changze said. “Several times, I hope. We've got to make sure it takes, after all. On that note, can I watch?”

Lan Qiren was a man aware of his dignity. It was beneath his dignity to flail around like a teenager.

He flailed regardless.

“You don’t have to let me if you don’t want to,” Wei Changze said, but he was pouting. “I guess. I just think it’d be hot, that’s all.”

Lan Qiren put his head in his hands.

“You’re bright red,” Wei Changze observed. “Does that mean you’ll do it?”

“I don’t even like Cangse Sanren that way,” Lan Qiren said, voice muffled by his palms. “I mean, I like her, but I don’t – like her. Romantically. At all.”

“And I’m very happy about that,” Wei Changze said soothingly. “As is she, being as she married me and not you. You don’t need to have romantic or even sexual feelings about her, you just need to platonically bang her a few times.”

“…I will do it provided you never refer to it that way ever again.”

“Deal,” Wei Changze said, and grinned, waving his wife in through the door; she bounded in like a lion on the hunt, smelling blood.

“Additionally, we should be clear about what we expect regarding the child,” Lan Qiren said, even though he was already being carted along to the bed by Cangse Sanren’s excessive momentum and Wei Changze’s entirely unnecessary assistance in removing his clothing. “Obviously any child will be yours in every respect, legally and emotionally and otherwise, both of you, but if possible I would still like to see him –”

“Of course,” Cangse Sanren said agreeably, removing his pants. “Whenever you like.”

“Something is wrong,” Lan Qiren said firmly.

Yu Ziyuan scowled at him, even as her husband frowned thoughtfully. “Cangse Sanren is a rogue cultivator,” she said acidly. “It is not unusual for rogue cultivators to go a few months without contacting their friends in the cultivation world.”

“We have an agreement that she would come by once every season or else send word. She has not missed a single instance, and yet now she does.”

“Why would she agree to meet so regularly with you? We barely see her once a year, if that,” Yu Ziyuan asked, and Lan Qiren knew her issues with Cangse Sanren were actually issues with Jiang Fengmian, but it still irritated him to be used as a pawn in their troubled marriage.

“If you do not intend to help me search, then just say so,” he said heavily. “I fear that something has happened to her, and I intend to find her; I would like your help, but will proceed without it if need be. If all is well and she just decided not to come, and also not to send word or any other sign, then I will apologize for the inconvenience and repay you any monies expended. But if not…”

“I will help,” Jiang Fengmian said, and Yu Ziyuan looked on the verge of exploding.

“I’ll leave you to sort that out,” Lan Qiren said, shaking out his sleeves and leaving at once. As per their agreement, Cangse Sanren brought Wei Ying to the Cloud Recesses once every season or else sent word explaining her absence – the lack of any word this time was deeply troubling. After all, in the end, despite Cangse Sanren’s relatively humble goals and low-key life, there was always that doom said to be associated with those who left the immortal mountain…

He worried.

He’d planned to tell Cangse Sanren about He Kexin’s death during her present visit, had hoped that Wei Ying’s presence might help lift Lan Zhan’s mood after the loss of his mother and give him some comfort – Wei Ying was Lan Zhan’s favorite person in all the world, bar none, and he had waited so anxiously, if wordlessly, for him to arrive during the month that they expected Cangse Sanren and her family to come. And yet the days ticked by and he didn’t arrive at all…

Lan Qiren worried.

Still, with Jiang Fengmian’s help, and of course the Nie sect’s – Lao Nie hadn’t hesitated to agree, even though unlike Jiang Fengmian he did not have a personal connection to either Cangse Sanren or Wei Changze and was acting wholly on account of his friendship with Lan Qiren – they would be able to cover a great deal of the cultivation world, especially given that Cangse Sanren disliked both Lanling Jin and Qishan Wen and was unlikely to venture into either of their territories.

They would find her.

He hoped that they would find her.

“Well, that was a meeting full of revelations,” Lao Nie said, eyes curved into crescents of mirth. “The only thing that would have made it better is if you’d ended your sentence with ‘so fuck off’. You know, so that it would’ve been ‘Because he’s my biological son, so fuck off’.”

“It isn’t anyone else’s business,” Lan Qiren said querulously. “I don’t consider him my son – he’s Wei Changze’s son! His surname is Wei for a reason! The exact mechanics of his conception are private-”

“Are they? Too bad, I’d have liked to hear about it.”

“Lao Nie!”

“What? It’d be hot.”

“Wei Changze said the same thing,” Lan Qiren grumbled. “What is wrong with all you people? Anyway, that was not my point; we can discuss your sexual titillation later. My point is that Wei Ying should not have a shadow cast over his parentage – I should not have had to reveal that fact at any point.”

“You had no choice,” Lao Nie said, not without sympathy. “Given that Wei Changze was a former disciple of the Lotus Pier, Jiang Fengmian had the better claim to custody absent that fact. Never mind that you were Cangse Sanren’s close friend, or that they came to visit you more often; never mind that Yu Ziyuan is to this day only barely able to restrain her jealousy and hatred of the pair of them and would be made miserable by the boy’s presence on the Lotus Pier, and possibly make his life miserable in return; never mind that Jiang Fengmian already grossly favors the boy over his own children, a surefire recipe for disaster…you had to say what you said, Qiren. Wei Ying will be better off at the Cloud Recesses.”

“He’ll be a disaster at the Cloud Recesses,” Lan Qiren said, rubbing his temples. “He’s as free-spirited as his parents were. That’s the only hesitation I have…if it weren’t for all the other things you mentioned, Yu Ziyuan’s jealousy and the favoritism and all that, I would think he’d be better off among the Jiang.”

“He will make a very unique Lan,” Lao Nie acknowledged. “But he’ll be an adopted cousin to your nephews, and they’ll grow up as brothers. A-Zhan will be delighted.”

“Yes,” Lan Qiren said, acknowledging the point. At least there was that. “Yes, he will.”

“Maybe I’ll have a talk with Jiang Fengmian,” Lao Nie said, more to himself than Lan Qiren. “That poor Jiang boy, no one deserves to grow up with a real-life person being ‘another person’s child’. Perhaps I’ll see about inviting the boy over to the Unclean Realm more often. A-Sang could use a playmate…”

“You’re weird for a Lan,” Jiang Cheng said.

“That’s because I’m not a Lan,” Wei Wuxian laughed. “I’m a Wei! Lan Zhan’s a Lan, Xichen-da-ge is a Lan, but I’m not. Don’t let the white robes mislead you.”

Jiang Cheng coughed. “That’s not – what I meant.”

Wei Wuxian blinked at him.

“Well,” Jiang Cheng said, abruptly looking extremely awkward. “Your father’s a Lan, isn’t he? Teacher Lan.”

“Oh, that! No, he’s not. Easy mistake to make,” Wei Wuxian assured him. “Lots of people think that, what with me knowing the Lan sect rules backwards and forwards and upside down – mostly so that I can haggle my punishments down when I break them, that's how I learn them best – but actually I’m Wei Changze’s son.”

Jiang Cheng’s face was red. “But…my dad said…”

“He helped,” Wei Wuxian conceded, tapping his nose meaningfully. “That’s why I’m so pretty! But Wei Changze was the one that wanted me, Wei Changze’s the one who gave me his surname; it’s his grave I sweep during Qingming. If you like, you can think of me as having been adopted into the Wei family; that’s common enough, isn’t it?”

“I guess so,” Jiang Cheng said, blinking. And then he said, sounding doubtful, “Do you really know all those rules?”

“All of them! You have no idea how much trouble you can make with a good set of rules.” Wei Wuxian grinned. “Want to see?”

“I – can we?”

“No,” Nie Mingjue said, stepping into the room. He looked tired, as always, but Wei Wuxian thought that there was never a time when he didn’t, certainly ever since he became sect leader too early. Lan Xichen was always worrying about him, and Lan Qiren, too, and since they were worried, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji had figured they might as well get in on the action. “Not in the Unclean Realm you can’t. Save it for the Lotus Pier, since the Cloud Recesses are too wise to you now.”

“No one is truly wise to my wicked ways,” Wei Wuxian boasted, and Nie Huaisang poked his head out from behind Nie Mingjue’s back and waved – he’d been dragged away to saber training, leaving Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng to try to make friends without him. Without Lan Wangji, too, which was even more unfair; how was Wei Wuxian supposed to represent the gentle snow and wild wind without his other half?

Stupid seclusion. Wei Wuxian was with his uncle in disliking it even when it was necessary.

Though Jiang Cheng was kind of cool…

“This is,” Lan Qiren informed Cangse Sanren’s memorial tablet, “entirely your fault.”

Despite her son’s newfound demonic cultivation skills – or his taste for revenge: he had taken the burning of the Cloud Recesses very personally, and the attack on the Lotus Pier, and so on his best friend Jiang Cheng, very nearly as badly, and that, somehow, had inspired him in new and even more uncontrolled ways – there was no response from the grave.

And yet, somehow, Lan Qiren suspected that he could hear her laughing at him.

#mdzs #lan qiren #cangse sanren #wei changze #sect leader nie #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #my fic #my fics

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iwishtobeastorm · 3 years

Text

Just my type - Chapter 1

Roommates AU - Adam Sackler/Virgin!Chubby!Reader

A/N: Hey babes! I've been working on this fic for a while now and it's kind of something I really needed, beause a) I love Adam and b) I sometimes get really insecure about my body and writing this always made me feel better, so I hope it'll make someone's day better as well. This fic will eventually turn 18+, so please keep that in mind. Love you all!

Warnings: cursing but I think it should be ok otherwise :) let me know!

Masterlist | Chapter 2

"Did you know we ran out of milk and you didn't tell me?" You yell so he would hear you since you're standing in the kitchen, staring into your fridge while he's in the living room. He does this all the time and you usually let it slide but this time you were about to have a cereal after not really pleasant day in school and he ruined your comfort food now.

"I swear to god, Sackler. I will murder you with a spoon," you say, shutting the fridge closed and letting out irritated sigh, frowning softly as you head to the counter where you left your bowl with the Cheerios already in it.

"I forgot," the baritone reaches your ears and makes you snap your head its way. He's standing there, leaning against the doorframe just in his boxers, looking at you with teasing smirk on his pink plush lips. His honey brown eyes have the rascal sparkles in them as usually, small wrinkles appearing on the corners of them. His pale cheeks are dotted with constellations of moles and freckles that go down his neck and bare chest too. His big ears are peaking out of his raven black hair, that is in apparent contrast to the white marble of his skin. He's just too much to bear. Not just now but always. You swear to whatever is in heaven, that having him as your roommate is a curse.

"I wanted to have cereal but now I can't," you explain, turning your eyes back to the paper box and your bowl, trying to get the Cheerios back to where it came from.

"I can go and buy it, if you want to," he offers, stepping closer to you. You take a shallow breath, trying to stop your pounding heart and your cheeks that begin to heat up.

"No, it's okay. I'll have something else," you murmur and he chuckles, leaning against the counter next to you. You're pretty sure you can feel the warmth radiating from his whole body. He's so fucking tall and broad it makes your mind explode.

"How was your day?" He asks and you smirk.

"Well, not really the best but whatever. How was yours?" You look up at him for a second before turning back to your cereal, trying to not spill them all over the counter as you put handfuls of it back into the paper box.

"Don't give me this whatever shit. What happened?" He turns his whole body towards you. You bite on your lower lip, your palms getting sweaty.

You live with Adam for about two months. Through this whole time you haven't really discussed your moods and personal problems together and so you're not really sure you want to change something about that right now.

You look up at him, your gazes meeting and you notice he's serious. All that playfulness from before that you really like is gone. You sigh.

"I fucked up one of my test. I mean not really but I got an E and it ruins my GPA," you say, the anger burning in your chest again. You're so mad at yourself and as always you feel like the stupidest person in the galaxy. You're trying so hard to have good grades but sometimes it doesn't go as you plan. And it makes your anxiety thrive.

"Are you kidding me, kid? You are the smartest person I know. One bad grade can't change that. Everyone fucks up something from time to time. It's natural. It's human. You can't always be perfect," he states and you chuckle.

"I'm not perfect even on the daily basis," you look him in the eyes and you both smirk.

"But you are the closest to it," he says and you smile, your cheeks burning. He sometimes says things like this but from what you've witnessed he's like this around almost every girl. So even though it makes your heart flutter, you know it isn't real. He's saying it to make you feel better not because, unlike you, he would have some feelings for you.

You have to occupy yourself with something to not make this awkward and so you put the empty bowl down while opening the cupboard and getting on your tippy toes to put the box where it belongs. You clear your throat, realizing you left his statement unanswered.

"Thanks, Adam. So- how was your day?" You ask nonchalantly, making him scoff.

"Good. The usual, you know," he states and you smile at him.

"Nice. Have you finished the bookcase you've been working on?" You ask as you put the water to boil, deciding to have a tea.

"No. I didn't feel like working on it today," he states and you chuckle, raising yourself to sit on the counter, your body now almost as tall as he is. You can feel his gaze on you as only about two feet part you, his massive frame still leaned against the same counter you're sitting on right now, your cheeks getting warm again.

"I-I hope I'll be the first one to see it when you get it done," you say and he smirks.

He makes it for fun. The wooden furniture. From what you've seen it's beautiful. One of his friends asked him to make him a bookcase a while ago and so he's getting lost in his small workshop time to time to work on it. You haven't seen it yet but you can't wait for it as if he was making it for you. You admire him for being so skilled.

"You can bet, kid," he states and you grin.

"What would you say to ordering pizza and watching Spider Man?" You offer, looking at him with your bottom lip between your teeth. He gazes at you for a moment as if he was thinking your proposal through and then he nods.

"Sure. Whatever you wish," he states and you smile.

"Will you call, please?" You pout.

"When you asked so nicely," he teases and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

"Thank you," you smile instead as you watch him leaving so he can get the call done.

You finally feel as if you could breathe freely again when he's not in the kitchen anymore. Sometimes you really can't handle his presence and time to time you're not able to stand the mere sight of him.

For example when he gets out of the shower, walking to his room covered with just his towel, the small droplets of water still running down his massive chest, his black hair pulled back and the color of them is usually even darker thanks to the wetness. Or when he's making breakfast for himself just in his boxers, moving around the kitchen with the pan in his hands, humming some song, the deep sound of it rumbling in his chest, making your legs weak. Or your personal favorite - when you lay on the couch together, watching movies and eating, your legs laying in his lap and his big warm hands casually rest on top of them, your whole body melting underneath his touch. You know he wouldn't date you. He broke up with his girlfriend before you moved in and it's too soon to form any relationships. And you're probably not even his type.

"Done. And if we are about to watch Spider Man, I'm not watching the newest one," his voice takes you out of your head, your throat suddenly running completely dry, your cheeks burning as your eyes lay on him. He's standing in the doorframe again, his phone in one of his huge hands, cheeky grin on his face, making small dimples form on his cheeks. The wish to run your fingers over them is so strong, it makes you feel embarrassed.

You realize what he said and that he's probably waiting for any kind of response and so you swallow and clear your throat.

"No! I want the new one! The old ones are not as good," you state, jumping off the counter and finally getting your tea ready because you completely forgot about it.

"You are the wrong generation! The new one sucks," he opposes and you look at him with your eyes slightly narrowed.

"That's not true! I grew up on all the Spider Men and I like the new one the most," you state and he chuckles.

"You only like the actor, kid," he smirks and you pretend to be offended as you gasp, resting your hand on your chest, making him let out a husky laugh.

"You are full of shit, Sackler! That's a lie. I like it because of the plot. It's much more interesting than the old ones. And MJ isn't reduced to the damsel in distress," you state.

"MJ isn't reduced to the damsel in distress in the old ones either," he says and you turn to him, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Fine. That might be true," he raises his hands in surrender, making you scoff.

"And to be honest I don't really find the new Spider-man that attractive," you say matter-of-factly, spurring your tea with the small spoon to make the sugar melt faster.

"Interesting. I've heard girls your age are crazy about him," he states, smirking at you.

"Girls my age? How old do you think I am?" You raise your eyebrow at him.

"I don't know. You act like you're 13, so it's hard to say," he states and you try to smack him with the tea towel but he dodges it and swiftly tears it from your grasp, leaving you weaponless.

"I fucking hate you, Adam," you look up at him with grin you weren't able to hide and he smirks, stepping closer to you.

"That's a pretty dirty mouth for such a pretty girl," he says and you bite on your lower lip, trying to suppress the effect his words have on you.

"So what about the Spider Man?" You murmur, looking at him softly. He smirks.

"You are the one who had a bad day. You pick," he states and you smile widely.

"Thank you," you say and he nods slowly, watching you as you take the teabag out of the mug and throw it in the bin. You then take the cup and head to the living room. He follows, not really keeping a distance, his warmth reaching your back and making you shiver. You're trying so hard to control your burning cheeks but it's not really working.

You sit down on the couch, sipping your tea to hide your face behind the mug at least for a moment while he sits down next to you. He turns on the tv and puts the remote control on your thigh, his fingertips gently brushing over it, making goosebumps raise on your skin. You put the mug down and you take the gadget.

"I was thinking that maybe we could go to the trampoline park this weekend if you want to," you say, trying to sound unbothered even though you really wish he would say yes.

"Trampoline park?" He chuckles and you look at him, nodding softly. He smirks.

"Aren't we too old for that?" He raises an eyebrow at you and you smile.

"No, I don't think so. Or we can go to a laser game. I always wanted to go," you shrug.

"You don't have other friends than me or what, kid?" He teases and you chuckle.

"If you don't want to go, just say it. I'll find someone else," you say and he smirks.

"No, I'll do it," he states and you scoff.

"You say it as if it was a big sacrifice from you," you smirk at him.

"It is. Spending time with you is making me go crazy," he says and you can't stop the grin from curving your lips.

"Good," you nod, making him chuckle.

"Should I wait for the pizza with the movie?" You ask, putting the remote control on the table.

"Maybe," he nods, making you smile.

"Don't you want to put something on?" You look him in the eyes and he smirks.

"Are you afraid you won't be able to control yourself, kid?" A smug smile forms on his lips.

"From puking, you mean? Sure," you nod and you both start laughing, he pushes your face away with his big hand.

"You are the worst," he says and you chuckle.

"Guess there's two of us on it then," you say, making him scoff.

"Okay, I'll put something on to not dismay you," he states and gets up, heading to his room but he stops in the doorframe and turns back to you with cheeky smirk.

"I wouldn't mind if you got rid of few clothes though," he winks at you, your eyes immediately widening and your cheeks burning, which makes him grin victoriously as he disappears on the hallway.

You curse yourself for letting your body respond to him this way, looking down to your hands in your lap, biting on your lower lip nervously. You like it when you tease each other because it's fun but sometimes he says things that keep tugging on your nerves hours after your conversation as you overthink the possibilities. Maybe he feels something towards you too. But why would he? You're younger than him, you're not the traditional image of beauty and most importantly you're just his annoying college student roommate. You're here to pay the bills, not to fall for him. But you somehow still caught feelings and it makes you anxious. You don't sleep well because of it for weeks. You're constantly thinking about him sleeping on the other side of the wall, how his face pressed against his pillow in the dim light coming in from the street must look, how his lips part as he breathes steadily, how his raven black hair must create a small halo around his head, how his sheets smell of him, what it would be like to fall asleep and to wake up by his side, your naked form pressed against his, sharing each other's warmth. God, this is torture.

"Satisfied?" His voice makes you snap your head his way, your cheeks still warm since you feel as if he caught you doing something forbidden, as if he knew about your thoughts even though it's impossible.

You look him up and down and you start laughing. He's wearing your fluffy jumpsuit you wanted to wash and so you know he found it in the bathroom. It's too short for him even though you always almost trip over the long trousers legs. It's bright pink and it has small kitten ears on the hood. He looks so ridiculous in it.

"How can you fit into something like this? It's so fucking small," he states, looking down at himself, making you scoff.

"It's too big for me. I like it that way," you say and he smirks.

"I will borrow it from time to time," he states, sitting down next to you. He looks like an overgrown baby, making your heart clench in your chest.

"Fine, it suits you better anyway," you murmur and he chuckles, forcing his head on your lap, making the blood in your veins freeze. You look down at him, trying to keep your face composed as your eyes meet. He's smiling softly, his honey brown eyes shining, small wrinkles appearing on the corners of them and there are the dimples in his cheeks again that make you go crazy.

"It's too tight for my balls," he states and you burst into laughter.

"God, Sackler," you manage to form between the laughs, your hand casually coming to rest on his chest. When you realize that the warm mass underneath your fingers and palm is him, you feel your heart skip a beat.

"I'm not gonna lie to you, kid," he states and you chuckle.

"Yeah, but I'm not really sure I needed to hear that," you say and he smirks.

"You did," he nods, making you scoff.

"Don't you want to change into something else? Something more comfortable?" You offer, smiling down at him.

"I have a good position now, I don't think I wanna change that," he states and you let out a sigh, shaking your head in pretended disbelief, making him chuckle. You feel the anxiety and nervousness bubble in your tummy, making your chest clench, your throat tightening. All you want to do is run your fingers through his hair and shower his face with kisses. But can you? No. Definitely no.

"That's true, you don't get a chance like this often," you tease and he chuckles, turning his face towards your stomach and he rest his forehead against it. You're so glad you're wearing one of your oversized sweatshirts so he can't see the rolls that form on your stomach every time you sit like this. Would he hypothetically mind?

"Definitely not with you," he states and you smirk, your cheeks warming up. Would he want to?

"That's right," you murmur and he smirks again, closing his eyes.

You take all the bravery you can gather and you brush a strand of his dark hair from his face, pushing it behind his prominent ear, smiling softly while your heart hammers against your rib cage. He looks up at you, his hand grabbing yours that's resting on his chest.

"So which Spider Man are we watching?" He asks nonchalantly, making you laugh.

"The newest one of course," you say and he chuckles.

"Would you be able to handle it though?" He raises an eyebrow at you, making me smirk.

"Why wouldn't I?" you ask.

"When you obvi have crush on the actor. Maybe you'd like it too much. I won't judge if you leave in the middle of the movie," he states and you smack his chest.

"You are unbelievable," you state with smirk and he laughs.

Suddenly there's a bell ringing and your eyes meet.

"I'll get the pizza, you change," you say and he chuckles.

"Now you are all commanding, huh?" He raises an eyebrow at you but he sits up, letting you head to the door.

"I like it, kid," he calls after you, making you chuckle and you bite on your lower lip to compose yourself.

You realize you probably look like a shit right now and so you at least let your hair out of the messy bun so it can frame your face freely. You grab your purse from the kitchen counter and you open the door.

There's a tall, dark haired boy standing there with small smile on his face, maybe a bit older than you and kind of handsome if anyone asked you.

"Hello, I have your order," he shots you a smile, making your heart flutter a bit.

"Hello. Thank you so much. How much is it?" You ask, looking up at him.

"21$," he states and you smile, getting the money out of your purse and handing it to him with a small tip.

"Thank you. Small party?" He asks, looking at the three boxes of pizza that he's handing you and you chuckle.

"No, just movie night," you say and he smiles.

"Nice. I'm Patrick, by the way," he offers you his hand and you shake it with smile.

"(Y/N)," you murmur.

"Pretty name," he compliments, letting go of your hand softly.

"Thanks," you smile.

"I was wondering if you would give me your number?" He asks and you feel nervousness growing in your stomach.

"I- eh-"

"Did you get the pizza, baby?" A husky voice reaches you from inside of our flat. Sackler's voice. Your cheeks burn within seconds and the pizza boy looks really really surprised and embarrassed.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't know you have a boyfriend," he states, scratching the back of his neck nervously and you're not able to do more than nod because it's not true. You don't have a fucking boyfriend.

"Have a good day," he says as he turns around, kind of rushing away.

"You too," you murmur before closing the door with the pizzas in your hands. You're still a bit paralyzed and confused about what just happened. Did Adam call you baby?

You take small steps toward the living room, your cheeks hot and your palms sweaty. He's already sitting there on his side of the couch, waiting for you as if nothing had ever happened.

"Everything good?" He raises an eyebrow at you when he notices your expression.

"Why- why did you do that?" You ask, your brows furrowing a bit in question.

"I thought it's some creep that's bothering you," he states and you sigh softly, sitting down next to him and putting the pizza on the table.

"He wasn't. He was actually really nice but now he thinks I have a boyfriend so-," you state and he chuckles.

"Sorry, kid. I didn't mean to ruin it for you," he says and you smile a bit.

"It's okay. I wouldn't go anywhere with him anyways," you murmur, making Sackler scoff.

"Why?" He asks and you look at him as you open one of the pizza boxes.

"I don't know. I hate dates. I'm always so nervous and the beginnings and the ends are always so fucking awkward," you say and he starts laughing.

"I mean- yeah, but how else do you want to find yourself someone? You can't rely on your pretty fingers all the time," he states and you scoff before you bite on your lower lip, shrugging.

"Have you ever even dated anyone?" He looks at you, his gaze burning holes in your body, making you feel exposed and vulnerable.

"No," you murmur as you take one slice of your favorite pizza, the smell alone sending you all the way up to the heaven.

"Really?" He assures and your eyes meet his.

"No," you shake your head and he smirks.

"Are you a fucking virgin?" He seems to have a lot of fun while your face is on fire and your stomach hurts from all the anxiety.

"Yes, Sackler, I am," you say, frowning softly, a bit irritated with how much amused he is by getting to know all those facts about your personal life.

"Such a good girl," he states and you feel something tingle inside of you, your heart clenching. Fuck.

You do not dare to look at him and so you just grab the remote control and turn on the movie, leaning back on the couch and taking bite of the slice you hold in your hand. You are both quiet for a moment, the traditional opening playing, making you smile softly, the excitement running underneath your skin as if it was the first time you see the movie.

"Are you mad at me?" He breaks the silence as he takes a slice of the pizza himself, his eyes fixed on you.

"No. Just focus on the movie now, okay?" You murmur, not sparing him a look, earning a chuckle from him but he listens to you. He rests his legs on your lap and turns to the tv as if he meant to do that the whole time.

"It's not a bad thing, (Y/N). I didn't mean for it to sound like I'm making fun of you. I actually think it's great you are saving it for someone special," he states, his tone absolutely serious, his low pitched voice making you shiver inside and you smile softly.

Oh, he has no idea how much you wish he would be the special one. You've spent whole nights unable to fall asleep because of the need burning in your abdomen, your thighs brought together as you wished you could have him. Of course you tried to get rid of the tension by solving the problem yourself like you do for all those years but all you could think about during it was him and you were so embarrassed and so afraid you'd let out a sound and he would find out, that you always stopped. You were so desperate you even considered going to his room and asking for it but fortunately you never did.

"Those are honorable words from a man like you," you say and he chuckles.

"What do you mean by man like me?" He asks and you scoff.

"Nothing. And hush now, I wanna hear the movie," you say, your eyes meeting his for a moment. You both have those rascal smirks on your faces but all you're able to focus on is how good he looks right here and right now, how much you wish you could just straddle his lap and kiss him, feel the taste of him, run your fingers into his thick hair and savor him.

Instead you just turn back to the tv, pretending you're not going crazy over the fact that you have him so close to you, pretending you're just having pizza with your roommate, no feelings involved. You slowly begin to lose focus as you're getting more and more lost in your thoughts like a small ship on the wide deep blue ocean. This voyage won't end up well.

#adam sackler #adam sackler x reader #adam sackler x you #hbo girls #eventual romance #eventual smut #slight slowburn #small age gap #college student reader #chubby reader

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andypantsx3 · 3 years

Text

defiant | bakugou/reader

pairing: Bakugou Katsuki / Reader

status: complete

length: 4,485 words

summary: There are a lot of benefits to managing your pro hero boyfriend, but dealing with the PR nightmares he generates is not one of them. After Katsuki gets way too mouthy with a hapless reporter, you take it upon yourself to put him in his place.

Katsuki, however, has other ideas.

tags/warnings: smut, arguing, possessive sex, light bondage, aged up characters, reader attempts to dom bakugou (keyword: attempts)

notes: This is based several years after the events of my fic savvy though you do not need to have read it to enjoy this one!! This is also unedited because I am too lazy, my apologies for the various mistakes within. I will come back and fix them at some point. Dedicated to @bobawithpomegranate for reminding me I was supposed to be working on this.

It was a Friday afternoon at approximately three p.m. when Bakugou Katsuki lost his fucking mind.

You knew this information because you had been watching the press coverage of your boyfriend’s latest fight, an operation in which he and Kirishima Eijirou had paired up to defeat a villain with an earthquake quirk.

Katsuki and Kirishima had taken the man down in record time, mere minutes after the reporters showed up. You’d watched them pound the villain into the very street he’d ripped up in the first place, and now Kirishima was puttering around in the background of the news coverage, smiling as he chatted up civilians against the wreckage of the city street behind him. Which left Katsuki to saunter over to the gaggle of field reporters and give the customary interview.

His blonde hair was disheveled, and his mouth was quirked up into a sharp smile, the way it always was after he’d just come out of a good fight. But he looked otherwise unharmed, just as intense and savagely handsome as always. He even looked like he might be in a good mood, pleased with the results of his fight, and you thought he might actually keep the swearing to a minimum this time.

He ducked under the police tape, flaxen hair glinting gold under the afternoon sun, and stalked over to the nearest reporter, already opening his mouth to crow over his latest victory.

Which is when something off screen caught his attention.

There was a muffled question from one of the reporters--not from the network you were watching or the mic would have caught it--and Katsuki’s scarlet gaze cut to the side. You watched in horror as his expression slowly morphed into one of apoplectic rage.

“You fucking piece of shit,” Katsuki snarled, eyes narrowing, an explosion already crackling between his fingers.

The camera jerked to the side, catching the startled expression of another reporter. He looked vaguely familiar to you--tall, handsome in a bland kind of way, teeth bleached for his job as a television personality. You thought you might have met him briefly at the last Hero’s Gala, but you didn’t have time to linger on the memory--Katsuki was already on the move, fighting his way through the pack of reporters, looking ready to commit a murder.

“--think you can just fucking talk to me, asshole?” you heard him shout.

“What did he say?” a voice murmured off screen.

“--he just asked Dynamight how he feels about his success today,” another voice uttered, closer to the camera, sounding bewildered and more than a little alarmed.

“You’re gonna wish you had never fucking been born, asswipe!” Katsuki shouted over them.

He’d nearly reached the reporter when there was a blur of red and Kirishima was there, one bulky arm seizing Katsuki around the middle. He hauled Katsuki out of the sea of journalists, even as Katsuki struggled, spitting and snarling like a wet cat.

“You fucking try that shit again and I’ll fucking blow your teeth straight into your brain!” Katsuki hollered, drowning out whatever Kirishima was muttering to him.

Your phone screen lit up next to you, several notifications pinging simultaneously. You let out a gusty sigh, glancing down at the contact names. News outlets, looking to scoop their competitors by getting the first statement from the Dynamight Agency on Katsuki’s behavior.

You swiped over a screen and dialed the number for the PR department, watching Katsuki continue to rage on screen, struggling against Kirishima’s hold. The crags in Kirishima’s skin told you he was close to going Unbreakable, and the sight sent a hot bolt of irritation through you.

You had no idea what the hell Katsuki thought he was doing, launching himself at a reporter like that. A reporter who had apparently done nothing but ask him how he felt about the success of his fight, a question Katsuki--the smug fuck--typically reveled in answering.

It had been a long time since Katsuki’s last PR disaster (tackling pro hero Deku over the side of a buffet table after an innocuous comment at one of their first Hero’s Galas), and you’d gotten him to promise you to be more careful after that. You’d honestly thought he’d pretty much moved past that sort of thing now. He’d grown somewhat calmer with age--though not less foul mouthed--and as his girlfriend, you were able to exert some level of influence over his actions, as each year, your understanding of how to play him grew deeper and deeper.

So what the fuck he thought he was doing right now was absolutely beyond you. And also absolutely not appreciated, as you had much better things to be doing than cleaning up after him for a shit fit that he definitely could have controlled.

If there was something bothering him, you were going to make him tell you. And if he was up to his old tricks, maybe he needed a refresher on exactly why it was inappropriate to go off like a bomb at every little thing.

As Katsuki’s primary PR rep picked up on the other end of the line, already speaking to you in a brisk tone, you resolved yourself to the task. You were going to get to the bottom of whatever had sent Katsuki into a fit--and you were going to remind him how and why to behave himself.

Whether he wanted to or not.

The trickiest part of your plan was catching Katsuki off guard.

That kind of a feat was nearly impossible, as Katsuki had reflexes honed by years of experience, an alarmingly keen intellect, and a single-minded determination that was frankly terrifying to contemplate. It had been years since he’d been outmaneuvered by anyone in the field, and the odds were against anyone who thought they could get the jump on him.

Luckily for you, you knew that his single-mindedness was the one thing that could also be used against him.

You left the agency slightly earlier than normal, shooting off a message to Katsuki to let him know you’d meet him at home. And then you yanked open your proverbial bag of tricks.

You helped yourself to a long shower, lathering on some of Katsuki’s body wash instead of your own, a trick that--you’d learned after once running out of your own--sent him into something like a possessive frenzy, knowing you smelled like him, that anyone you encountered would know you’d helped yourself to a man’s personal effects and understand that you were already spoken for.

Then you rustled around in your drawers for a nicer pair of lingerie--not anything super fancy that would suggest you were up to anything special, but nice enough that Katsuki’s interest would be piqued.

And then you dug around in the closet for the most essential element of your plan--handcuffs. Your face warmed with the memory of the last time these had been used--a blur of rough palms and sharp teeth all over you, while you all but sobbed for more--but you frantically quashed the thought. Tonight, if all went according to plan, you wouldn’t be the one strapped helpless to the headboard.

You weren’t the one with a lesson to be learned, after all.

The scrape of keys in the door sent you dashing to hide the handcuffs underneath your pillow, and then the stomp of boots in the hall told you your boyfriend had made it inside. You hastily yanked a sweater and jeans over your lingerie, then went out to meet Katsuki in the kitchen.

He clearly hadn’t had time to change after his fight, still slightly disheveled, blonde hair mussed and scarlet eyes sharp as they narrowed in on you. His handsome features were twisted into a suspicious expression.

“The fuck’re you up to, ditching early? Thought I was gonna get fucking screamed at when I made it back to your office,” Katsuki growled, watching you intently as he stripped off his gloves and boots. They hit the ground with a dull thud.

Your heart shot into your throat, but you pasted on your best placid expression. “I ditched because I didn’t feel like dealing with every outlet in the entire country blowing up my office line. Thought I could get more done here where it’s quieter.”

You didn’t mention exactly what you planned to get done here, hoping Katsuki would assume it was all PR and damage control.

In a way, it was damage control. Just...not via traditional methods, exactly.

Katsuki’s eyes tracked you closely. He still looked skeptical. “You gonna let me have it then, princess?”

Oh you were gonna let him have it, alright. He just had no idea.

You watched him for a while, pretending to contemplate unloading on him the way you wanted to. “Just...not now. I’m too tired, I don’t even want to deal with it.”

He scoffed. “Bullshit. You live for giving me shit. Fucking out with it.”

You glared at him. “I don’t think you’re in any position to be giving me orders. And if I was gonna say anything before I’m certainly not now. Now go clean yourself up. I have work to finish, thanks to someone.”

You retreated back into the bedroom, smothering a grin.

Nothing got Katsuki jumped up like defiance. Years into your relationship, he knew on some level that he wasn’t actually in charge of you, but he still got just as worked up when you got mouthy with him as he had on day one. It wouldn’t be long until he came back in, trying to pick the same fight, altogether too interested in the attitude you’d give back to him.

He was such a boy.

You lounged around on the bed, pulling out your work laptop and firing off a couple emails while you waited, just for something to do. Katsuki’s PR rep seemed to have things well in hand, but you helped where you could.

Soon enough, Katsuki was stalking back into your room, hair dark from a shower, looking like he hadn’t even bothered to dry off before stomping back in. He wore only a dark pair of sweatpants, the hard planes of his chest on full display--you suspected he’d foregone a shirt on purpose, knowing how the sight of him usually distracted you.

Which it still did, somewhat, but you were too heady with your own plan to truly be diverted.

You smothered a laugh at the way Katsuki’s eyes immediately honed in on the lace of your bra strap, strategically peeking out of your sweater as you had arranged it.

Two could play at that game.

“Think you’re real fucking smooth, don’t you, princess?” he demanded, stalking over to loom over you in a vaguely threatening manner. You caught the clean scent of his body wash, just a hint of his syrupy sweet quirk under that.

Your thoughts fogged a little with his proximity so you pretended to ignore him, typing out some nonsense notes into your calendar for something to keep your attention off of him. The less you looked at him, the easier this would be. You were weak to his appearance, it was true, and nothing riled him up like not having your full attention.

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” you said vaguely, doing your best to sound distracted.

A rough palm shoved your laptop closed. “Oh I think you fucking do, princess. Think you’re gonna get all dressed up for me and then ignore me?”

You looked up into his face, just as his arms came down around you to cage you against the mattress. A thick spike of arousal jolted through you, but you pushed it down. Much as you were into this, he was not going to be in charge for much longer.

“And if I did?” you asked, victory surging through your veins at the dark look that entered his eye.

He leaned down, putting his face near to yours. “Gonna be real hard to ignore me when I’m fucking you so hard you’ll feel me for weeks.”

“You’re awfully confident for someone on such thin ice,” you breathed. You didn’t even have to pretend at being affected by his choice of words, your stomach fluttering with anticipation.

Katsuki wasted no time covering your mouth with his. The weight of him pressed you back into the mattress, your laptop tumbling to the floor with a loud clatter. Rough hands trailed up your sides, gathering up the fabric of your sweater and pulling it over your head.

Carefully, you eased him over, kissing him as hard as you could, so that you were the one on top, your knees braced on either side of his slim hips.

Katsuki swore, pressing you down on him with a rough palm on your back, evidence of his interest hard between your thighs.

And that’s when you struck. Using his momentary distraction, you pulled the handcuffs from beneath your pillow, weaving them through the headboard. You grabbed his hands as firmly as you dared, pressing them up over his head.

Katsuki noticed what you were doing the second before the handcuffs snapped shut over his wrists.

“The fuck you think you’re doing, nerd?” he demanded, flexing against the tight hold. You watched with interest as his bicep pulled with the effort. “Unlock these or you’re in for it.”

You sat back on his hips, smirking down at him the way he usually did at you. Triumph swelled in your gut like a symphony.

“No, you’re in for it, Katsuki. What the absolute fuck did you think you were doing today?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “You think I was just gonna let you get away with throwing a tantrum on national television for no discernable reason?”

“That’s none of your business,” he ground out. A bright spark lit up the skin of his palm, a sharp crackle slicing into the silence of your room. “Now unlock these while I’m still asking nicely.”

You trailed absent fingers down the warm skin of his abdomen, watching appreciatively as the muscle tightened under your touch. Katsuki hissed out a sharp breath.

He might be threatening, but he ran the risk of blowing off his own hands if he resorted to using his quirk right now. You didn’t think he’d chance his own skin just to get out of this situation.

“I’m your manager and your girlfriend--it’s one hundred percent my business. You’re not getting out of those until you tell me what the hell you thought you were doing,” you promised darkly. You let your nails scrape over the skin of his hip, just under the band of his sweatpants.

You felt his hips shift in interest.

“You’re really asking for it, huh, princess?” he said, his voice rough. “I’m not gonna be gentle with you when I get out of this.”

“Keep avoiding the question and you’ll never get out of this,” you said. You let yourself lean over him, reveling in his minute intake of breath as you pressed a kiss over his neck. “You want something, I’ll give it to you. But only if you tell me why you did it.”

“It’s between me and that fucking slimeball and that’s all you need to know,” Katsuki snarled.

You let your teeth scrape over his skin, the way he usually did with you. “Not good enough,” you said.

Katsuki’s hips shifted again as you pressed back harder onto him. You felt your own abdomen coil tight with hot excitement at the unconscious little circles he was making. But you couldn’t be distracted--you had a mission to accomplish.

“Mind your damn business you fucking nerd,” he growled, defiant to the last.

Well, you hadn’t thought this was going to be easy.

“You are my business,” you informed him tritely. “And if you ever want me to take care of your business again, you’re going to tell me exactly what is going on.”

“Fuck,” he said instead. “You’re so hot when you get mouthy.”

“Not the answer I was looking for,” you told him. You shoved down the hot flush that tried to rise through you at his admission. Even years later, you were weak to his praise and he knew it.

He bucked a little under you, like he was unable to help himself. “Let me touch you, princess.”

“Still not an answer,” you intoned. You held very still, careful not to squirm like he was making you want to, even as his thrusts grew more deliberate.

If he would just hurry the fuck up and give you an answer, you both could be getting what you wanted. But everything had to be a production with him, as usual.

He was lucky he was so hot, and so charming on the rare occasion when he wanted to be, because he really was a piece of fucking work. You deserved some kind of sainthood for your service to him.

You slid forward on his chest a little when he gave a particularly strong thrust, bracing your hands over his sternum, and the abrupt show of strength had you clenching your thighs unthinkingly around him.

Katsuki’s mouth twisted in a savage grin, like he knew exactly how he was affecting you. “This is your last warning, princess. Let me out or you’re fucking in for it.”

You frantically schooled your features back into some form of haughty disregard, reaching down into your nightstand for the keys. You twirled them absently around your fingers.

“I don’t think you understand what kind of position you’re in,” you said firmly. “The only way you’re getting what you want is if you tell me what kind of stick that reporter stuck up your ass. Or maybe he didn’t, and you’re just being a fucking brat. Either way, you’re not in charge here--I am, and you are the one who’s in for it.”

No sooner had the words left your mouth, however, than the tang of hot metal met your nose. Katsuki’s savage smile was bordering on feral now. You looked up in alarm to see that above his head, he’d worked his palms over to press to each opposite wrist, but he wasn’t blowing through the cuffs like you’d known he couldn’t. Instead, he was melting them.

You swore, scrambling off of him. You threw yourself off the edge of the bed, racing for the door like the devil himself was behind you.

You weren’t fast enough.

The world upended, the white of your ceiling paint swirling up over your vision. The next thing you knew, you were thrown flat on your back in your bedding, bouncing a little from the impact against your mattress.

Katsuki braced himself over you, hands firm around your wrists, eyes alight with the challenge.

“You were saying, princess?” he asked smugly.

You wiggled underneath him, trying to work a leg underneath his hip to kick him off you the way you’d learned in self-defense. Katsuki just shifted into the cradle of your hips, huffing out a rough laugh.

“I fucking taught you that move, nerd. Think you’re gonna get me with it?”

His hips pressed forward, his body a hot line all along yours, and you suppressed a groan at the feel of him hard against your core.

“That’s right, princess,” Katsuki breathed, pressing his face into your shoulder to bite at your throat. “Now I’m going to remind you who’s in charge here, and you are going to be good for me and take every single thing that I give you.”

He gathered your wrists in one hand, reaching down with long fingers to work off your jeans.

You shivered in delight at the thought of his dark promises, but some other, more stubborn part of you resisted. You had a fucking job to do, and no way was he going to reroute you so he could get out of talking about things.

“You’re not giving me shit until you tell me exactly why you tried to blast some innocent reporter into the sun,” you said hotly.

Katsuki paid you no mind, too focused on pulling your jeans off over your ankle, so you leaned in and bit his shoulder.

“The fuck--?” he demanded, reeling back.

“I’m serious, Katsuki,” you said, irritation rising. “You tell me what is going on this second or it’s just you and your hand for the next month. I’m not fucking around.”

“He’s not some innocent reporter, he’s a piece of shit,” Katsuki said. His fingers worked at the clasp to your bra, like he thought that was enough of an answer.

“And you know this how?” you asked, trying to shift to crush his fingers underneath your shoulder.

He glared at you for a long moment, red eyes hot on your face, looking like he was strongly considering just abandoning the conversation altogether and stalking off to blow something up instead.

“I know,” he finally ground out, looking like every word cost him, “because I overheard him in the men’s room at the last Hero’s Gala.”

So you did know the reporter from the Hero’s Gala. A dim memory came to you of shaking his hand, leaning over to get Katsuki’s attention to get him an answer to some question he’d asked. You were fuzzy on the details, as you’d had other things to worry about that night--the Hero’s Gala had ended with Katsuki in some kind of mood with Kirishima, the arm of Kiri’s suit burnt off, and Katsuki had refused to say more on things. They’d patched things up almost immediately after so you hadn’t pried, but now you wondered if there wasn’t more to the story--more including this reporter.

“Overheard him what?” you asked.

Katsuki’s fingers resumed their questing, releasing the back of your bra with the ease of constant practice. You let him, considering he was still giving you answers.

“Overheard him fucking talking about you,” Katsuki growled, his fingers digging into your waist, his touch turning more possessive.

You froze. “What?”

“Saying the nastiest shit about how you looked in your dress, what he’d like to do with you if you didn’t already belong to me,” Katsuki said, sounding disgusted. “Wanted to incinerate him but fucking Kiri got in the way. Told me I’d lose my license if I attacked a civilian and he took me to court.”

“Which you would,” you pointed out, your tone going breathier than you wanted when Katsuki slid his fingers up to pluck at your nipple. “That--um--that was still the case today, too. What did you think you were doing?”

“Didn’t think,” he grunted, palming your breast. He didn’t look like he was thinking a lot now either, eyes turning on your chest with that single-minded focus he was famous for. “I just saw him and saw red.”

You were starting to see colors too--white, mainly, as Katsuki released your wrist to trail his other hand over your panties with obvious intention.

“Oh, um. Well I’m glad you didn’t kill him and have to lose your license,” you said, your breath hitching when Katsuki found his way into your underwear. “I’m gonna--have to--ah--thank Eijirou.”

“You belong to me,” Katsuki announced imperiously, leaning back in to bite at your throat again.

You couldn’t bring yourself to be annoyed with him, now. Instead, his words relit some fuse within you, your arousal sparking back to life behind your navel.

Katsuki’s fingers curled within you and you couldn’t hold back a pleased little noise, shifting your hips to allow him better access.

That was all the affirmation he needed. In mere minutes, he was working you up to the edge of your pleasure, fingers hot and skilled and exactly right inside you. He trailed soft bites and hot kisses all over your neck and shoulders, looking supremely satisfied with himself every time you caught sight of his face. His thumb worked tiny, maddening circles over your clit, just like he knew drove you fucking insane, and he had you writhing and squirming underneath him embarrassingly fast.

Soon, he was hitching your leg over a broad shoulder, sinking into you right where you wanted him.

“That’s right, princess. You’re mine. Gonna fuck you so good you’ll never forget it,” he promised, already working up to a brutal pace that left you short of breath.

Your vision swam as he ground into you. He leaned down to catch a nipple in his mouth, sucking softly, in sharp contrast to the wicked thrust of his hips.

“Look at you,” Katsuki said around your breast, scarlet gaze burning into yours. “Spread out and trembling. Look so fucking good for me, only for me.”

“Katsuki--ah!” you barely managed the syllables of his name.

“So fucking hot when you think you’re in control. So fucking mouthy--” his fingers brushed over your mouth “--I’m gonna fuck you so stupid you can’t even string together a sentence anymore.”

You rather thought he’d already achieved that, considering you could barely manage anything other than single syllable words now--nothing but there and more and please and oh!

Katsuki gave a particularly hard thrust, snarling your name--and your climax hit you like a truck.

You cried out, writhing, and his hands came up to hold you down against the mattress, still fucking into you hard like he meant to fuck the sense right out of you. He fucked you straight through your orgasm, and only when you were gasping from the aftershocks, shivering and near tears, did he follow you, flooding your insides with warm heat.

“That shut you right up, didn’t it, princess?” he said smugly as he rolled off of you, leaving another love bite over your shoulder on his way.

You groaned. It had been fucked up but kind of romantic that he’d attempted to murder a guy for you, but he was really killing the mood now.

“Is there anything that would shut you right up?” you replied, still catching your breath.

Unexpectedly, a smirk twisted your boyfriend’s mouth, and his hand trailed carefully down your thigh.

“There is, princess. Too bad it sounds like you can still string together a sentence,” he said, watching you intently.

You stared at him, wondering where he was going with this.

Until he moved, shifting backwards until his chin met your thigh, still watching you intently with those scarlet eyes.

“I can think of something that would fix both of those problems,” he said, his voice rough even as his hands came up to gently pry your thighs apart. “Now you have thirty seconds to call out of work tomorrow before I finish punishing you for that little show earlier.”

Your breath caught in your lungs again. You didn’t waste precious time defying him.

This time, you obeyed.

Deleted scene: What did Deku say to Bakugou that got him tackled over a buffet table at the Hero’s Gala?

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki #my hero academia #katsuki bakugou

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crushed-like-an-ant · 3 years

Text

how to calm down an angry billionaire

Step 1. Deflect.

Peter was good at deflection. Always had been. It was a skill he'd picked up after people constantly tried to ask him about his feelings after his parents died, then again when Ben died. Any questions he didn't want to answer quickly turned into an animated conversation about whatever his mind thought of first (there had been that awkward time he'd asked a fellow orphan how their parents were), an apology and fast excuse to get the hell out of there (mostly worked except when he was panicking and the best he could come up with was a cheese making competition, that had caused a lot of questions Peter would rather never deal with again), or just flat out running away (sometimes he ran into poles or walls which was always a bit embarrassing given he was literally Spider-man). Sometimes Peter had to use all three options. So Peter knew when Tony finally decided to have the dreaded conversation about the whole not-my-first-time-holding-up-a-building thing, he would be able to deflect it. Or so he thought. Turns out, Peter had drastically underestimated the sheer stubbornness of Tony Stark.

It was a lab day, around three weeks after the incident where Peter and Tony had been stuck under a building and Peter stupidly let slip that he’d held up a building before. Peter had thought Tony had forgotten about his words. He was comfortable, tentatively confident and optimistic that it wouldn't be brought up again. He had no idea how wrong he was.

"Hey kid?" Tony said, cutting the comfortable silence between them as they worked, tone slightly hesitant. Peter should've picked up on it. He should've realised. But he'd grown complacent. So Peter ignored the dread pooling in his stomach and lifted his head from the mess of wires in front of him to look at Tony.

"Mr Stark?" he replied with a smile that Tony didn't return. Nor did he try to tell Peter to call him Tony. And that was how Peter knew something was wrong. Nerves skittered down his spine, clod fingers of dread snaking around his neck as nervous energy filled him and he began to tap on the desk. Anything to distract himself from the sorrow and worry shining in his mentor's brown eyes.

"Look kid, uh, I," Tony fumbled for words. Shit. This was bad. If Tony Stark was struggling to say something, you knew it was serious. Peter just stared at him in silence,unsure of what to say, anxiety coursing through his veins at the grimace that clouded Tony's features. What could possibly have gotten him into this mood? Had Peter done something wrong? Was he gonna, oh god, was he gonna take the suit? "Pete, I need to know what you meant when we were under the building," Tony finally managed to say, Peter relaxing. Oh. That was all?

"I just meant that I'd lifted a lot of heavy things," Peter half-lied, looking Tony straight in the eyes and lying to his face, mindful to make sure his tells were carefully under control. Training with Daredevil - despite Tony's misgivings about Double D - had been one of the best decisions Peter had ever made. He felt a twinge of guilt as he lied to Tony but it's not like he could tell the truth. And he wasn't really lying. Just withholding the entire truth. He shrugged nonchalantly, "Anyways, you reckon you can help me with this? I'm stuck. My mind kinda decided to go and die on me." Peter chuckled quietly. Tony wasn't laughing.

"I want to believe you, kid," Tony told him, "I really do. But I can't. You had a panic attack under there. What aren't you telling me Peter? Whatever it is, I'm here for you. You can tell me anything. And I don't want to pressure you into telling me anything until you're ready but I-I just-I need to know what happened. I need to know what you meant." Peter's resolve almost broke as Tony's voice broke. No. He couldn't tell Tony. Not only would Tony think he was weak, but Peter knew that Mr Stark would blame himself because he took the suit. Peter couldn't let him do that. Option one had failed him, so it was onto option 2. Make a quick exit without raising any suspicions. Yeah, he didn't think that was gonna work. Worth a shot though.

"Hey, Mr Stark," Peter said after checking his watch and pretending to look shocked at the time, "I'm really sorry but I have to go. I promised Ned we'd work on our Bio project tonight and I'm already seven minutes late." Mr Stark raised an eyebrow and pulled up a picture of Ned on his holiday in California.

"Nice try kid," Tony replied drily. Peter sighed, shoulders slumping. Time for option three then.

"I-I don't really know how to tell you, uh," Peter deliberately stuttered, guilt eating him up inside as he put on an act for Tony. For option three to work, Peter had to catch Tony off guard otherwise he'd react too quickly and lock the tower down. His act work, Tony's features softening and body relaxing.

"It's okay, bambino, take your time." And if that didn't make him feel like a horrible person, nothing would. Peter stood and padded over to some machinery near the exit, pretending to be trying to busy himself as he worked himself up to answering Tony when he was actually getting closer to the door.

"I, uh," Peter stumbled. Tony was now far away enough that Peter could easily run without being grabbed and stopped. The door was right there. Peter took his opportunity. He ran. Out the door, down the hallway, flying to the elevator. Pressing the button frantically, Peter groaned when nothing happened. Great. Tony had stopped the elevators. Sighing, Peter pulled the mask from his pocket and pulled it over his head, sprinting at the window. Peter burst through the window in a shower of glass, activating his web shooters as he fell, quickly shooting a web and catching himself. And he was swinging, swinging, swinging. Allowing himself to smile at his escape, Peter was unprepared when he was grabbed from behind by two cold metal hands. Thanks for nothing spidey sense. Tony flew a sulking Peter back through the broken window and into one of the meeting rooms, setting him down firmly in a seat. Peter crossed his arms, pouting as he pulled off his mask, Tony's Iron Man suit unfolding around him and the man stepping out, an unimpressed look painted across his features.

"You done deflecting yet?" Tony asked, a single eyebrow raised. Damn. Peter wished he could do that. Alas, no amount of practising in front of a mirror had ever given him the talent to lift one eyebrow and not look like a demented monkey. Time for a different strategy. Deflection had failed him. But Peter would not go down easy.

~~~

Step 2. Deny.

The unfortunate thing about this step was that Peter would always over-deny. He would deny everything or nothing. There was no in between. For example, he was once denying eating the last bit of chocolate and ended up accidentally telling May his name wasn't Peter and that he was an alien from outer space with a severe lettuce allergy. Don't ask. Peter really didn't want to relive that trauma. So although Peter always tried his best with denial, it never really worked out in his favour. Honestly, it was through sheer dumb luck that he managed to keep Spider-Man a secret from his friends and family for so long. It was probably some good karma that had been waiting for the perfect moment to help him out. It was a little late but hey, better late than never right?

"No," Peter blurted in a panic. Shock splashed across Tony's face as he folded his arms.

"Kid, you know you can tell me anything, right?" Tony told him gently.

"No," Peter exclaimed again, hurt painting the billionaire's face. "I mean, yes." Shitshitshitshitshit. Peter was an idiot. He had to deny everything - but not everything, Peter, remember the lettuce incident - so Mr Stark wouldn't find out. But Peter had always been shit at denial.

"Look, I know this is probably hard for you to talk about," Tony continued on, oblivious to Peter's internal panic, "but I won't judge you. I love you, bambino. You know that right? And I'll support you no matter what but I can't help you if you don't let me."

"No," Peter said. It was the only word he knew. Any more and he would have another lettuce incident or he'd end up rambling the truth. He couldn't do that. So his current vocabulary was limited to 'no', 'no', 'no' with a side of 'no'. Which wasn't suspicious at all. Totally.

"What the hell, kid?" Tony asked, mostly confused, slight irritation colouring his tone. Peter was hyper-aware of the thundering beat his heart was drumming to, the way Tony's slightly picked up when he said 'no', the sweat covering his body like a second skin. Tony's sigh sounded like a bomb to his sensitive ears, the sharp intake of breath before he spoke like a blaring alarm. "What did you mean when you said it wasn't your first time?"

"I didn't," Peter responded, brain not quite computing, "nothing happened." Tony's gaze narrowed. Shit. Was Tony going to take the suit if he didn't tell him? But Peter just couldn't tell him. He couldn't.

"Fucking hell Peter, just tell me dammit!" Tony exclaimed, running a hand through his messy brown hair in frustration. Peter knew - with the certainty that he knew his own name or the colour of his eyes - that denial had failed him. Time for Peter's next strategy.

~~~

Step 3. Stretch the truth.

When Peter's other strategies failed him, he turned to stretching the truth. It was simple really, just take the truth and dial it down from boiling hot to freezing cold and give it to the person on a silver platter with a charmingly innocent - and only slightly nervous - smile. Half-truths were easy to fool people with. Someone had said that the best lies were the ones based on truth. Peter couldn't remember who exactly had said that. He had never been very good with that sort of stuff, unlike MJ. So although stretching the truth was Peter's third option, he'd always been surprisingly good at it. People seemed to believe he was too innocent to be able to lie. Which was absurd because he'd spent ten years living with his Aunt and her terrible cooking and she still didn't know he hated her walnut date loaf.

"Okay," Peter conceded quietly and the rage slowly left Tony as he deflated like a balloon, looking smaller without all the fury. Peter sat down in front of Tony. "It was back in the fight with The Vulture and he threw a wall at me. I caught it and threw it back at him but he dodged it with his super awesome flying skills." Tony looked him straight in the eyes for a few seconds, Peter holding his gaze before Tony leaned forward.

"Cut the bullshit," Tony whispered, dangerously quiet, tightly compressed anger stemming from worry swimming in his brown eyes. "A wall wouldn't stay together if it was thrown, caught and thrown back. Even then, you wouldn't say it wasn't your first time while holding a building up unless you'd held up a fucking building already. And you wouldn't have a panic attack from holding up a building about something thrown at you. So stop lying to me, Peter Benjamin Parker." Damn. The full name. Peter released a heavy exhale, knowing he was beaten. He had to tell Mr Stark the truth.

"It actually was in the fight with the Vulture," Peter began, "so I wasn't lying about that. And I did have to catch a few walls." Tony raised his eyebrows at Peter's weak attempts at defending himself. "I went to his warehouse and he sent his flying suit at me. It wasn't particularly good at attacking 'cause it hadn't even touched me. I said that and Toomes told me it wasn't trying to." Tony inhaled sharply, clasping his hands together to stop them from shaking, Peter trying not to listen to how Tony's hands still hit each other gently. Enhanced hearing sucked sometimes. "He had directed the suit to take out all the supports in the building." Tony gasped, expression contorted into one of such extreme guilt and sorrow that Peter wanted to shelter Tony from the world for the rest of his days because goddammit he's seen too much and been through enough and couldn't the world just give him a fucking break for once? No one deserved one more than Mr Stark did.

"I took the suit," Tony whispered, voice thick with emotion, "I took the suit. It was your only protection, damn it, and I took the fucking suit!" Tony was yelling now, self-hatred and rage dancing in his wild brown eyes.

"It wasn't your fault, Mr Stark," Peter tried to tell him.

"How?" Tony scoffed, laughing bitterly, "How was this not my fault. I took the suit and you got hurt because of my mistake."

"It's okay, Mr Stark, you didn't know," Peter said.

"But I should've," Tony replied, "I should've known." Peter's features hardened, spine turning to steel. He wouldn't let Mr Stark blame himself for this. The blame was on Toomes and only on Toomes.

"Did you pilot the Vulture suit?" Peter asked firmly.

"What?"

"Did. You. Pilot. The. Vulture. Suit." Peter repeated, staring defiantly at Tony.

"No, of course not," Tony replied, slight confusion clinging to his features.

"And did you cause the building to fall?" he continued.

"No."

"Then it's not your fault," Peter told him simply.

"Kid, I shouldn't have taken the suit," Tony began, dropping his head into his hands. He opened his mouth to continue but Peter cut him off before he could say anything equally self-deprecating.

"Maybe," Peter allowed, "but then I wouldn't found out I was strong enough to get back up again. 'If you're nothing without the suit then you shouldn't have it'. You told me that. I thought the suit made Spider-man and I lost sight of what Spider-man really meant. God, I started out in a fricking onesie. That's what Spider-man represents. Not a hero with a multi-million dollar suit, but someone with nothing but their will to save others. Without you taking the suit, I never would've remembered everything Spider-man stood for.; With great power comes great responsibility. You gave me that tough love moment and I needed it. Now it's my turn to dish out some tough love for you." Peter took a deep breath. "You, Tony Stark, are being a fucking idiot. The blame of what happened in the past lies with Adrian Toomes, and Adrian Toomes alone. So stop this self-deprecating bullshit and use your fucking brain for once in your life. It. Was. Not. Your. Fault." Tony looked up at him, the self-hatred drained from his features, a slight smile adorning his lips which Peter returned.

"You're right, kid," Tony said, "when did you get this wise?"

"I've always been this wise, Mr Stark, I just wanted you to feel better about your lack of common sense," Peter joked, Tony chuckling.

"It wasn't my fault," Tony repeated. Peter tilted his head, confused at the strange undertone in Tony's voice only to see a fire lit in his caramel eyes. "I'm going to kill that son of a bitch."

And it was then that he knew he fucked up.

~~~

Step 4. Try some breathing exercises.

Peter had always been shit at breathing exercise. He just didn't have the patience for them. While he was breathing, someone could be getting raped in an alley, a shop could be getting robbed, or a kid could be getting beat up. So - despite the constant reminders to just try the damn breathing exercises for the love of god - Peter had never done anything of the sort. How could he? With his enhanced senses, it was impossible to relax. Would you be able to sit there and breathe while screams rang in your ears and sobbing pounded in your mind? Naturally, this meant that Peter wasn't the most experienced when it came to said breathing exercises. Maybe he should've practised. Life always had a funny way of throwing Peter in the deep end headfirst and tied to a ten ton weight and expecting him to swim. However, he had once read in a self-help book that breathing exercises were good for calming people down, so he decided to hit fuck it for the sixth time in the last 48 hours and try it out. I mean, it was that or release an angry billionaire in a metal suit decked out with the most advanced weapons in the world (except for maybe what HYDRA had because honestly Peter knew better than to underestimate them and he mildly respected their cockroach-like survival skills) who was hell-bent on revenge and gave zero fucks into the world. The second option was beginning to sound quite tempting, Peter would be honest.

"Mr Stark, you need to calm down," Peter told the man gently, placing a hand on Tony's shoulder. Tony tilted his head up to look at Peter - rage splashed across his face, tension lining his body - before he shrugged off Peter's hand and jerked into a standing position. And the room was suffocating, suffocating, suffocating, because damn had Tony always been that scary. A cloud of darkness surrounded Tony, filling the lab up and winding itself slowly around Peter's neck, stealing the breath from his lungs. Tony stormed through the lab, footsteps like thunder, anger crackling like lightning. Desperately, Peter followed the billionaire. "Mr Stark, Mr Stark, please calm down," Peter pleaded with him.

"No," Tony spoke, voice cold and flat, tone totally devoid of emotion, so totally opposite to the fury painting his entire body like a second skin. "No I will not calm down, Peter. He dropped a fucking building on you. He deserves to die."

"But you don't deserve to live with the guilt of killing him," Peter begged, tugging at Tony's sleeve in a desperate attempt to stop the man from his warpath. Peter knew he could easily overpower Tony. But he was hoping it wouldn't come to that. "Trust me, I know how it feels to want revenge, I really do, but you have to let it go. Please, Mr Stark."

"Dammit Peter, he hurt you!" Tony shouted, whirling around to face Peter, features twisted and manically furious. "He hurt you a-and I wasn't there and you had to deal with being crushed by a fucking building and then you got up and kept fighting because of that sick son of a bitch so I swear to fucking god I will murder him." Tony's eyes held a frenzied wildness in them, chest heaving up and down, Peter could hear his heart racing.

"Mr Stark, try some breathing," Peter said out of desperation, completely and utterly out of ideas. "Just breath. In and out, in and out." Tony's momentary surprise shocked him out of his anger, confusion flickering across his face momentarily before the anger was back, stronger than ever. Tony pivoted on his heel and walked away from Peter, heading towards where he kept his suits and leaving a heavy sense of dread pooling in Peter's stomach and twisting his insides in knots. So breathing hadn't worked. Thanks for nothing self-help books.

~~~

Step 5. Hack the most advanced AI in the world.

When in doubt, do something potentially illegal. A mugger had once told Peter that after Peter caught her trying to rob a young man. That lady had been fucking badass. It was honestly a shame she's gone to prison but a criminal is a criminal. Turns out the lady had been responsible for a string of high-end bank and jewellery robberies. Peter wondered how she was doing. Probably not well, considering how shit the American jail system is. Peter always tried to find alternative ways to stop criminals, only really sending in the pedophiles, rapists, murderers and the more professional robbers. Sometimes people had no choice in the shitty hand life had dealt them and goddamn if Peter didn't get that. People were just pushed and pushed until they were left with nothing but desperation. Maybe if the government or any of the fucking American systems were better or did their jobs properly then people wouldn't have to steal just to keep themselves and their families from starvation. Maybe Toomes wouldn't have started his alien tech business and then none of this would have even happened. Peter wouldn't be in this situation right now. And Peter was now out of options. He had an angry billionaire on his hands and absolutely no idea what to do. So, he took the lady's advice and decided to do something potentially illegal. He hacked the most advance AI in the world. (What, like it's hard?)

"Hey FRI?" Peter called with a wince.

"Yes, Peter," the AI replied.

"I'm really sorry," Peter told her before bringing up FRIDAY's code. (A/N - I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT COMPUTERS SO THIS IS GONNA BE SOME VAGUE, QUESTIONABLE AF HACKING) Fingers flying across the keys of the laptop, Peter bit his lip in concentration, brows furrowed. He had to hurry and shut down Mr Stark's suits before he reached them and left to murder Toomes. Adrenaline coursed through his body, brain whirring to life like the computer before him as he deleted lines of code, rewriting and altering the code that created FRIDAY as he tore down the firewalls Mr Stark had built. Peter vaguely registered that this was probably illegal and that Mr Stark would most definitely be mad about this later but he quickly waved the thoughts away. He didn't have time for them, he didn't have time, he didn't have time. Barely registering what he was doing, Peter submerged himself into the world of numbers, immersing himself completely in the ocean of lines of code, fingers instinctively knowing what t do as though he'd been born to hack. Again, probably not a great thing that this was so easy. But computers had always made sense to Peter. After what felt like hours but was really only a few minutes, Peter was into FRIDAY's system. And with a few taps, Peter shut down the suits. Quickly exiting the browser, Peter dropped his head into his hands. He'd done it. With a long exhale, Peter relaxed, leaning back into his chair and running his shaking hands through his hair. An enraged roar broke the peaceful quiet surrounding Peter and he squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe if he ignored it, Mr Stark's anger would go away. He couldn't deal with this shit. Peter was too young to die.

"Peter Benjamin Parker I swear to fucking god-"

"You probably shouldn't fuck god, Mr Stark," Peter couldn't resist remarking with a shit-eating grin. "People might get a bit mad. And who knows, you may even end up pregnant which I can't imagine will be very fun."

"What the fuck?" Tony whispered into the silence that followed Peter's statement. "I don't even want to know what goes on in your brain." Peter hummed in agreement. To be honest, he had no idea what was going on up there half the time. He was just along for the ride. And hey, if it distracted Mr Stark from his anger then it was a win win situation right? (How Peter won in this scenario he didn't know but he didn't question it).

"It's the trauma," Peter replied flippantly, as casual as one would be if they were discussing the weather.

"The-" Tony broke off into angry, confused gibberish that Peter didn't even try to decipher. Crisis averted. Now to deal with the aftermath.

~~~

Step 6. Watch a movie.

Peter Parker wasn't good with emotions. Being a socially awkward sixteen-year-old genius had that effect on a person. Not to mention the fact that he had a crime-fighting, sarcastic alter ego. Yeah, he wasn't great with feelings. Especially not his own. And now he was attempting to help Mr Stark clam down after the whole Toomes-dropping-a-building-on-him-reveal thing. And the only way an emotionally stunted teenage genius superhero knew how to help an emotionally stunted adult genius superhero was something most people would not class as a healthy coping mechanism. Distraction. Preferably with a movie.

"Hey Mr Stark, wanna watch Empire Strikes Back?" Peter asked. Tony fell into a confused silence which Peter took as an agreement. "Yes? Perfect, let's go." Grabbing Tony's arm, Peter tugged him out of the lab and into the elevator, confusion splashed across Tony's features as they entered the movie room. Peter dropped onto the expensive yet incredibly comfortable couch in the centre of the room, pulling Tony down beside him. "Hey FRI? Can you please play The Empire Strikes Back."

"Certainly, Peter," FRIDAY replied, a hint of warmth in her robotic voice. The Star Wars theme filled the room, Peter lips kicking up into a smile at the familiar sound. And as the movie played, Peter reciting every single line with the characters, he felt the rage and tension slowly drain out of his mentor as he relaxed.

"Hey, kid," Tony whispered, interrupting Luke and Darth Vader's showdown. "I sorry for getting angry. I just... I just didn't know what to do. Instead of asking if you were okay I blamed myself and wanted to frigging murder a guy who's already suffering in prison."

"It's okay, Mr Stark," Peter responded with a smile, sincerity gracing his tone. "I get it. After Ben died, I found his murderer. I almost killed the guy," Peter chuckled without humour, Tony watching him with sad eyes, the movie forgotten. "Point is, I know how it feels to want revenge. Don't apologise for being human."

"You really are the best of us all, kid," Tony remarked, a smile adoring his face, features relaxed as he looked at Peter.

"I learned from the best," Peter replied with a shrug.

"Thanks, kid," Tony said, throat tight with emotion.

"I meant May," Peter joked lightly, the heavy emotion clouding the room vanishing as Tony laughed.

"Are you okay, kid?" Tony asked, seriousness settling over them again.

"Honestly?" Peter responded, "no. But that's alright. Because I will be." Peter held Tony's gaze, warmth blossoming in his chest at his mentor's caring eyes, as Darth Vader's voice filled the room.

"No, I am your father," Darth Vader spoke. Peter turned back to the movie, watching as Luke jumped and fell.

"You're gonna be okay, kid," Tony whispered, "we're both gonna be okay."

Because Peter would be okay. So Tony was okay too.

And if Pepper walked in three hours later to find them curled up against each other, fast asleep she never said anything. (She got FRIDAY to take a photo and saved it to Irondad and Spiderson - an unsurprisingly large file. She should probably get Peter to do a DNA test. They did look rather similar)

#fanfic #peter parker #spider-man #iron man #irondad #father-son #pepper potts #unhealed trauma #marvel #the avengers #spider son #bamf peter parker #tired dad Tony #tony stark #aunt may

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

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woman’s world - chris evans smut

The one where Chris pisses you off during a panel, but then finds a way to apologize

Warnings: age gap, famous!reader, oblivious Chris, smut, unprotected sex

Chris’ P.O.V.

The panel had gone well, or as well as it could go when everyone was trying to push the idea of Y/N and I together. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to pursue something with her - quite the opposite in fact. I was completely infatuated with the young actress, but the problem was just that: she was young. Too young for me, probably. So it was becoming harder and harder to deal with everyone commenting on how great we would be together when it was already all I could think about, and there was nothing I could do to make it come true without looking like an absolute predator.

Still, there was no denying that my favorite part about this particular press tour had been getting to spend time with her. She was just the perfect company, especially in a situation like this, which frankly could easily become tiresome and irritating. She just had this way of being able to read me and know what I needed, so she’d easily take over when she noticed an interviewer was getting on my nerves or overstepping some boundaries.

She was quickly becoming my favorite person, but unfortunately, the rest of our cast had noticed as much. And so that meant that for the last day or so, I’d forced myself to pull away from her, deliberately sitting as far away as possible and not even glancing her way whenever there was a camera around. I even managed to have a quick reaction when the panel moderator joked about us being the perfect couple, and I was proud of how my cry of “She’s a kid, for God’s sake!” had made everyone laugh, even my friends who had been keen on insisting I should ask her out.

So needless to say, I was in a good mood. Such a great mood, in fact, that I’d decided to ask Y/N to come back to my room so we could grab a beer and watch some movies. Asking around for where she had gone, someone pointed in the direction I thought I’d seen her head to, and after a couple of seconds, I managed to see her in the middle of the sea of people. Then it was just a matter of smoothly dodging everyone trying to lure me into pointless conversations and then she was already within ear reach.

Or so I thought, at least. I tried calling her name countless times, but she didn’t look back once. In fact, she even quickened her step, and soon enough I had to physically run so I could follow her into the elevator that could take us to the floor where we were staying.

I didn’t think too much of it, considering she probably thought I was someone else and was doing the same as I was: trying to dodge anyone who wanted to make us stay a bit longer on the crowded floor where the convention was taking place. But then we were inside the elevator and she didn’t even turn to look me in the eye.

More importantly, when I reached out to rub my thumb on her wrist, to signal that I wanted to hold her hand, the response I got was a harsh, “Is this your way of subtly hinting that you want to hold my hand? Because it’s quite cute, but I’m not in the mood for that at all.”

The attitude caught me by surprise in such a way that I was only able to snap out of it once the elevator’s doors opened, but before I could ask what the fuck was going on, she had ran out of it, walking towards her room with determination.

Oh no, she wouldn’t. There was no way I was letting her hide in her room, angry at me, when I didn’t even know what I’d done wrong. I sprung into action, running after her and managing to hold the door just before she was able to slam it in my face.

“What’s going on?” I cried out, pushing my way inside the room as she just stared up at me with hurt eyes and a pout on her lips. “What did I do?” Y/N huffed, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms while looking away from me, before I managed to pull her closer by her wrists when I pried her arms open again. “Talk to me, c’mon.”

She glanced at me with furrowed brows, quickly averting her eyes before looking back again with an unamused expression. “You’re really gonna act like you don’t know.” Anxiety coursed through my veins at a scary pace. It was clear that I’d hurt her, but I had no idea how!

“I really don’t know!” I cried out, begging her to answer me, so I could make this better. I couldn’t bear the thought of offending her, of possibly losing her… and her friendship. Since that was all I could get from her, I was gonna fight with everything to keep it. “Please, let me make it up to you.”

For a second, it seemed like she would relent. But when her eyes met mine again, it was clear that whatever she saw on mine reminded her of the reason that she was mad, because just when I started to smile, she caught a second wind, pulling her hands from me and turning her back.

“I don’t know why you’re so adamant about making me feel better. I thought I was just a kid to you.” And then, suddenly, it made sense. Flashes of what had happened not even an hour earlier played in my head, this time her face being the focus of it all. Perhaps it wasn’t perceptible for everyone else that her smile faltered when I shouted that idiotic thing, but to me it was.

To me it was, and still, back then, I didn’t see it. I chose not to see it, because I was so scared to deal with the truth. Instead, I ended up hurting her. And that was literally the last thing that I wanted.

“I-I’m sorry,” I immediately offered, raising a hand to scratch the back of my neck. “I just… I didn’t want them to start creating any narratives about us two together, you know? I mean… You know how they can get. And I can’t be… We can’t be... associated… like that.”

I knew I had screwed up even before it became clear that she wouldn’t answer. Despite how cautiously I’d tried to phrase it, it ended up sounding weird even to my own ears. And when she didn’t turn around to look me in the eye again, I didn’t know what else to do. I felt myself deflating, my heart beating desperately against my chest, terrified of losing her simply for being my stupid self.

“C’mon… You know what I mean,” I breathed out, trying to approach her and resting a hand on one of her shoulders, but she simply shook it off. “C’mon, Y/N, don’t be like that.” I made myself flinch with just how poorly I was handling that situation.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I didn’t know what to do or say. Don’t be like what? “Like a child?” I asked, my tone icy enough to layer the tension in the room with one more level of awkwardness, and I didn’t need to see Chris to know that he was a mixture of nervous and confused, at the very least.

I knew it because I was, too. I was completely thrown off by my own behaviour, as weirdly as that sounded. I didn’t know why I was so defensive, except that I did. I did know it, I just didn’t want to admit.

“Well, this child wants to be left alone. I’ll talk to you later, Chris.” And I stormed off into the bathroom, only stopping to take a breath when I was sure the door was locked behind me. I needed to put some distance between myself and him, otherwise I was gonna lose it - even worse than I already did.

But it was too late to keep on ignoring my feelings. I was forced to deal with the reality of them, at least with myself, since I knew - especially after today - that there was no way I would ever get to reveal to Chris that I’d fallen for him.

To him, I was just a kid, and that’s all I would forever be.

Weirdly, I didn’t feel like crying as I took off my clothes and stepped into the shower, decided to wash away all of the bad feelings that this day had brought me. I just felt… disappointed, like a kid who’s been dreaming about a Christmas present only to find out they’ve been given socks. I’d been hopelessly trying to ignore my feelings for Chris, but at least a small part of me still fed into the ridiculous idea that he could possibly reciprocate those sentiments.

Now that it was obvious it would never be the case, it was like a small part of me had died on that stage.

By the time I got out of the shower, some twenty minutes later, I decided to put on a loose shirt I had kept around from some ex and take a nap until it was time to be social again. Certainly my friends would want to hit the bars or at least grab some dinner, and it would provide me with the perfect occasion to apologize to Chris.

Yes, that was perfect. That would get me a few more hours where I could manage to fabricate some resemblance of control before I had to see him. And then it would all go back to the way it was: me, pretending I don’t have a crush, while he kept seeing me as a kid.

I was so lost in my own thoughts that I didn’t even notice the massive body hidden beneath the covers in my bed until I went to uncover it so I could slide in.

“What the hell are you doing here? Get out of my bed,” I chastised, but Chris only gave me those annoyingly effective puppy eyes that had me groaning. “No. You don’t get to do this. I’m still mad at you, go to your room and we’ll talk about it later, but for now, just let me wallow in peace.”

But still, he didn’t let up. I tried to climb on the bed, but he was now smack down on the middle of it, still pouting with those perfect full lips of his.

“Get. out. of. the. Bed.”

“Not until you tell me what I can do for you to forgive me. C’mon, baby girl, just let me make it up to you.” When I didn’t answer, making sure to avoid his eyes, he simply reached out and grabbed me by my hips, forcing me to sit on his lap. “Please?” He quietly begged, one hand cradling my face while the other maintained its grip on my hip.

The movement had caught me by surprise, and my mouth fell open as I realized that because the shirt had ridden up, I was sat panties glued to Chris’ jeans. And if that wasn’t enough to throw me into a ridiculously horny state, the fact that I could feel just how hard he was certainly did.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Don’t be shy,” he pressed, and my eyes snapped up to meet his, finding a hazy lust that reflected mine and a very, very naugthty smirk that didn’t help my current about-to-get messy situation. “Tell me how I can make it up to you.”

I could hear my heartbeat in my ears as I took a sharp inhale, thinking about what I was about to say. Could I really do this? Should we even do this? I still wasn’t completely sure about what the hell had happened, but one thing I was certain of, and that was that I really wanted him to, “Kiss me.”

For all the reservation I expected Chris to have about this, he didn’t hesitate a single second before pulling me to meet his lips, and it was everything I thought kissing him would be like. His lips were soft and as patient as he seemed to try to be, there was an undeniable edge of neediness in the way his tongue swiped my bottom lip, begging me for entrance.

“You’re not gonna let me in, honey?” He whispered against my lips, warm breath making me shiver in his arms before I was able to gather my thoughts.

“I don’t think you deserve it.” I shrugged, but by Chris’ teasing smile, I knew I had just given him exactly what he wanted. In a quick move, he had me sprawled on the bed underneath him, while he hovered over me with dark eyes that I never thought I’d get to see outside of my dreams.

“Let me show you why you’re wrong.”

Chris’ P.O.V.

I started by rubbing the outside of her thighs until she opened her legs enough for me to settle in the space between them. I paid close attention to the way her breath hitched even with the softest of touches, incapable of stopping the grin that made its way into my face.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking sensitive, baby.” She whined as I lowered myself to replace my fingers with my lips, slowly making out with the delicate skin of her inner thighs. “You see? This is why I was scared to reveal my feelings for you. It’d be so easy to ruin you.”

By the way she bit on her lower lip, I knew I had reached my goal of making her even more bothered with what I had said, and slowly, I ran my hands up her legs and grabbed her hips to pull her further down, closer to my mouth. I ran my tongue over her lower lip, just barely gathering the excess moisture, and despite how clearly affected she was, Y/N managed to grab my hair and whisper, “I think you’re full of it, Evans.” It made me smirk, but before I could even offer a comeback, she just continued, “But even if you’re right… I’d like nothing more than to be ruined by you and only you.”

A sharp inhale later and a competition of stares, I pounced on her, devouring her little pussy like I’d wish to do so many fucking times before. She was sweet, but her moans were even sweeter, and the combination of sounds and taste and smell only served to intoxicate me, make me even more thrilled about finally having this gorgeous woman underneath me.

As her juices dripped from my jaw on the bed, she kept caressing my head, keeping me closely connected to her like I would ever dream of stepping away from this moment. I wanted to stay right here forever, away from people’s judgements and the overwhelming fear that she would think this was a mistake after it was over.

And right here, as my nose brushed her clit as I plunged my tongue as far as it could go inside her hole, she came right before my eyes, her honey dripping onto my tongue as I came up to toy with her clit before at last parting with her taste.

“You’re so fucking sweet,” I pointed out, stealing her lips with mine so I could share her taste with her, so she’d know I was right. “You’re sweet all over. Shit, I really want to fuck you.” My voice became nothing but a whisper, and soon her hands were cradling my face, thumb playing with my bottom lip before I sucked it. It was true. I craved to feel her from the inside, know what it was like to possess her in that way, too.

“Then fulfill both of our wishes. I really want to be fucked by you.”

Godfuckingdamn. This girl was just perfect. I knew right then, I’d made the right choice by deciding to stick around. When she appeared wearing nothing but that shirt, I forgot all of the reasons that were holding me back from simply taking her, and even now, they didn’t seem all that important anymore.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Your wish is my command.” I heard the words and braced myself to finally feel his cock inside of me, but still, the second that its head managed to fit, a long, drawn-out moan revealed just how impossible it was for me to restrain myself as Chris stretched me open around his member.

“Fuck!” Chris shouted, and it surprised me so much that it made my eyes widen as I stared up at him, hands still holding tightly on his muscular shoulders. “Sorry! Sorry.” He repeated as he bottomed out, forehead resting against mine as he seemed to catch his breath. “I just… I imagined your moans, but hearing them is a completely different thing altogether.”

The sentence had butterflies flying in my stomach and the reality of the situation suddenly hit me. I was lying in bed completely naked with a still fully clothed Chris Evans on top of me, and his cock was filling me in ways I’d never been filled before while he kept releasing these breathy little moans that had my heart skipping a beat every damn time my mind registered them.

“Good to know I’m not the only one who has been dreaming about this,” I settled for whispering in his ear before sucking on his earlobe, and a shiver passed through his body, making me giggle.

“Yeah,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss me quickly before deciding to do it again. “But I’m even more glad that this is actually happening right now.” What could I add to this? I didn’t think there were any combination of words possible. So I resigned myself to feel it, memorize every single thing about this moment when Chris started to pull out only to push back in again. “Let me take care of you,” he whispered, and in that moment, I’d let him do anything to me, just as long as he kept fucking me like this.

His thrusts felt like waves washing over the shore, bringing the tide of desire higher and higher and I could feel it reaching the point where it all changed, the point where my life would turn upside down because I would know what it felt like to cum around Chris’ cock, and the anticipation was enough to have me writhing on the unmade sheets of the hotel bed.

“Shit,” Chris chuckled, and I opened my eyes to find him staring at me with a soft look on his. “You’re unbelievable, sweetheart.” I could see the desire in his darkened pupils. I was sure it mirrored my own. “So beautiful, and you take my cock so well.”

Hearing him talk dirty was everything I’d always wished for, and I could feel myself getting even wetter around him, whines and whimpers escaping my chest as I held him closer to me.

“Fuck, I really wanna buy you a collar with my name on it. Make sure everyone knows I own you now.” The words, paired with the warmth of his breath had me clenching around him, and I fucking melted when I heard him meanly chuckle at my state - the state that he had caused me. “You want it too, huh?”

I really, really did. I’d never been one for external marks of possession, but something about this, about Chris and I, really had me going crazy for his proposal. Maybe because a part of me thought he would never want to admit this had ever happened. I thought he would try to deny it, and so to hear him wishing to boast about it… It really had me going crazy under him.

“Say it.” His voice cut through the haze, making me realize I was actually about to cum again. It took me a while to understand what it wanted, just enough to have him ordering again, in a tone of voice that made every single part of me tingle, “Say you want everyone to know that you’re mine.”

“I do. I want everyone to know I’m yours and only yours, Christopher.” I don’t know if it was the desperation in my tone, my use of his full name or the fact that I came again, but that finally had him losing the control of his movements, quickly pulling out of me and jerking himself off until his cum was painted all over my stomach.

For a second, it was only our labored breaths in the bedroom, staring at each other like we couldn’t believe this had really happened. “Still think I’m a kid?” I had to laugh, biting my lower lip while trying not to show that I actually was really nervous about his reaction now that we were done. But his eyes softened, a quick kiss deposited on my lips before he cradled me in his arms, cum and all, and answered, “You’ll always be my little girl. I just want to do some very adult stuff to you.”

#chris evans smut #smut #chris evans #chris evans reader insert #chris evans reader smut #chris evans reader inserts #chris evans x reader #chris evans reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans ff #chris evans oneshot

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hypnomicimagines · 3 years

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Trust [Vampire!Aohitsugi Samatoki]

“If you’re so hungry, why don’t you just take a bite of me?”

There was a certain type of aggression that vampires liked in their mates, human or otherwise, that pulled them in. Being teased with double-entendres seemed to be one of those necessities, knowing their partner wasn’t afraid of them seemed important, or at least it was to Samatoki. He might appear to be irritable but ever since you’d offered up your blood to him in a time of need, the vampire had done all that he could to make you comfortable with him. It helped that your relationship was already flirtatious but the trust that was built from allowing him to feed, on both of your parts, was what fully cemented you as Samatoki’s ‘one’.

You liked to tease him to the point Samatoki wondered if you really did get off to him biting you, not that the sensation was ever an unpleasant one. It left you feeling more sensitive than usual after the initial burning in the newly opened wound stopped, his tongue running over the new holes in your skin in appreciation. They always healed up beautifully but he liked that if he looked hard enough, he could see the tiny scars left behind. It marked you as belonging to a vampire, belonging to him, and your neck would be the first place any other vampire looked before attempting to take you as their own.

“What about right here?” Your finger traced along your thigh, watching with amusement as Samatoki’s eyes carefully followed your finger. He had never had a partner as explorative as you, who was so willing to mark their body in every place they possibly could. “If you’re really hungry we can just do my wrist since I know it’s one of the best spots, but…”

Your burning desire matched his own and one cold hand rested on your thigh, moving it away from your other so he could get between your legs. He liked the look of anticipation, how you were ready for both the pain and pleasure he was about to bring you. He kneaded the soft skin, sucking the area without puncturing before grazing his teeth as a warning. You reached down to grab his hand and his fingers laced with yours, squeezing as he broke through your skin and allowed your sweet blood to run over his tongue. You were only a little noise, letting out a little whimper at first before the only thing he could hear was your erratic breathing, your eyes squeezed shut and his hand released as you laid back on your pillow.

“…Thanks for the food.” He knew you thought it was just some stupid gimmick on his part but each time he drank from you he thanked you, even checking in to make sure you weren’t suffering any symptoms of blood loss.

At first, he hardly drank enough to even quench his thirst because he was so paranoid about hurting you, there had even been a time where he was on the brink of death and you appeared that he had almost drank you dry, the very thought that he could’ve killed you had him considering starving himself in repentance. That time had come and gone but it felt seared into Samatoki’s brain, a reminder that he needed to be careful with his thirst or you would be facing the consequences of trusting a terrible creature like him.

“You’re welcome.” Your smile is warm as you ushered him up, Samatoki licking the blood clean from his fangs before he obeyed your wishes. You were so beautiful and warm, he hadn’t felt a warmth like that in centuries, and he found himself just as addicted to this feeling as you were to his bites. He was hopeless when it came to you, resting his cheek against your chest as he listened to the sound of your beating heart.

Calm.

You trusted him.

You trusted him so much more than he trusted himself.

How could Samatoki ever thank you for all that you had done? How could he repay your kindness? How could he apologize for almost sending you to an early grave? Your relationship had gotten rocky but even so, you had stuck by his side, showed him a loyalty that few vampires received from non-vampire partners. Having a boyfriend like him used to be a trend, all the humans and other species alike wanting to show off their century old partner who dressed like they belonged in another era, but you had never been that way.

No, you had been content to stay inside and keep him company during the daylight hours.

Trust.

He trusted you too, didn’t he?

He had told you all about vampires, about some of their weakness, but not without some apprehension on his part. Samatoki had been worried about an enemy clan moving in on his territory, it had been the only reason he brought the subject up, but he realized all those methods applied to him as well. Would he be able to raise a hand to you if you came at him with a stake? With fire? One day you could simply decide to rise, open the curtains in his apartment, and permanently take him out of this world.

When he mentioned that last fought you responded with a confused, “Why does a vampire live in a place that has windows anyway?”

Samatoki had laughed.

It was hard to make him laugh.

As he laid in bed beside you now, listening to your heart, soaking in your warmth, breathing in all the things that made you so beautifully mortal, he wondered how long this would last.

“Stop thinking your angsty vampire thoughts, ‘Toki. You know I always just thought that was something they put in books, that whole broody vampire stereotype, and now I see those authors must’ve been very intimate with you cynical vamps.” He scoffed at your observation, wanting to tell you that all the fiction was practically bullshit and that anyone attempting to publish actual accurate knowledge on vampires would be killed on the spot, but he saved his speech.

You’d already heard it before.

“Are you gonna tell me what you’re thinking about?”

“Not tonight. Don’t you have to sleep for work?”

“Ugh.” You seemed disappointed at the reminder and he couldn’t blame you, he didn’t exactly what to leave this position either. “You’re right but it’s more fun to be with you at night. You have more energy.”

His brooding thoughts hadn’t left him quite in the mood to have sex however he had no qualms about taking care of your needs. He leaned up to capture your lips in a possessive kiss, teeth grazing your lower lip as his hands slid down your body. He felt you unintentionally tense under his cold touch as his slipped past your panties and he smirked, nipping at your ear and asking if you were even ready for his fingers let alone his dick. You nodded your head, turning to look at him with a stubborn pout, he loved when you looked at him like that.

Inside of you is even warmer than outside, a fact he thought about often while you were being intimate. It was almost like being burned with fire but a far more pleasant sensation once he was used to it. He knew his body temperature never changed but he always felt like he broke out into a sweat when he was inside you, like your warmth was somehow infectious even though it couldn’t be the case. He liked that feeling, it almost felt like he was human again, and being with you made any potential terrible thing just so much better.

“S-Samatoki,” You gasped out, his fingers carefully moving inside you, “If you keep being so rough I…”

“I told you to get to bed, didn’t I?” Samatoki kissed your neck and you moved your head to the side, a jolt of pleasure running through your body as you remembered the sensation of his bite. “We’re gonna make it quick so you can get some damn sleep, brat.”

“Me a brat?” You cried out again as he started to rub your clit, your hips bucking up to meet his fingers. “Have you seen how… How you act? When you don’t get your way…!”

“I always get my way.” Samatoki’s voice is akin to a growl, “Do I need to remind you what I am?”

“The love of my life?” You asked playfully, and while he had been setting a certain type of mood… He can’t say that didn’t resonate with him. He can’t say that didn’t go straight to his dick, twitching eagerly in his pants, now wanting to answer the calls of your moans. “W-Why’d you stop?”

“I’m going to fuck you into this mattress.” You’re surprised at the sudden mood swing as Samatoki removed his hand from your pants, now looming on top of you with a dark look in his eye. “You’ll be lucky if you can fuckin’ make it to work tomorrow.”

He could hurt you like that. He could break you if he’s too rough, exhaust you with his immense stamina to the point you can hardly move, yet you knew he’d treat you as delicately as he ever did. His thrusts would be desperate and his fangs would constantly graze your skin, ready to puncture the second he wanted to without you having any say in it, yet you knew he would never do that. You knew he’d never drink from you without permission. You knew he’d never hurt you, that the intimacy of having sex was something that meant a great deal to Samatoki.

You trusted him.

And he would never break that trust.

#Aohitsugi Samatoki #Samatoki Aohitsugi #Hypnosis Mic #Hypnosis Microphone #Hypnosis Mic Imagines #Hypnosis Microphone Imagines #Hypnosis Mic x Reader #Hypnosis Microphone x Reader #Aohitsugi Samatoki x Reader #Scenario #Supernatural AU #smut

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

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Filterless

Corpse Husband x Plus-sized Reader (Female)

Warnings: Body Image Insecurities, Low self-esteem, Swearing

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Feeling comfortable in her skin has hardly ever been the case for Y/N who’s been struggling with body image issues all her life. However, they only get worse when she sees the ‘type’ of girls her crush is into.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your request (hits close to home 😅) I’m so sorry it has taken me so long to fulfill it and post it but here it finally is and if you’ve stuck around long enough to read it, I hope you enjoy! ALSO! - Never forget how beautiful and amazing you are. Never compare your beauty to someone else’s. We’re all beautiful people and we all shine so brightly and uniquely. No one deserves to be compared to anyone when we’re all so different yet so incredible. Love you and appreciate you with all my heart, Vy ❤

If I ever need my ego taken down a few notches - it never does, it’s barely even present, to be honest - all I have to do is go on Instagram. To be honest, regardless of how I’m feeling, opening that app is bound to make my mood plummet and come crashing into the ground so hard it drives a hole in it - probably in the form of a broken heart.

Being a content creator myself, I often get asked questions about my absence on that social platform specifically. I mean, the questions are based and rational I guess, considering I’m not a faceless YouTuber and yet my Instagram account is void of any photos. It’s not like I don’t post at all - I do! I post on my story often but it’s more often than not scenery I find pretty or a poster I’ve made for a movie/video game. Bottom line is: I barely ever allow a picture of me to make it online. The most my fans are ever gonna get of me is a selfie which is also a super rare occurrence because of how long it takes me to take and choose one I don’t hate.

Ok, but how am I supposed to find the motivation to post any sort of picture of myself when on my timeline I’m always faced with people worthy of posting pictures of themselves. People with such perfect bodies and beautiful faces. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not jealous or envious of those people - good for them! They know what they’re working with and they’re working it well. I have nothing against them, in fact, I love seeing people proud of their bodies no matter their size, shape or weight. Those are my role-models: people who are proud of themselves, their bodies, their attributes and capabilities and don’t hesitate to show them off. Those are the people I look up to but, deep down inside I know I’ll never be like.

Insecure about my body, having been referred to as ‘chubby’ and ‘squishy’ all my life. Inappreciative of the stuff I do: starting from my job as a graphic designer leading towards my job on YouTube - nothing I do, professionally or otherwise, satisfies me. Nothing I do is enough in my eyes because I feel incapable of ever being able to do enough. I’ve been called lazy and a half-asser a few too many times to be able to brush it off as a meaningless insult.

With these problems I’ve had with myself and my own perception of who I am and the work I do, I’ve never had the time for romance or romantic relationships. I second-guess the intentions of everyone who ever shows any interest in me because in my mind I’m nothing special and I have nothing to offer - nothing attractive or likable at least. That being said, I haven’t even been one to make heart eyes at others either. I busy myself with my job and some side-gigs, brushing off any relationship questions with the excuse that I’m ‘just too busy to be in a relationship’ which is technically true.

Having spent twenty plus years with that mindset, one can imagine how surprised I was when I found myself catching feelings for someone. And that someone just couldn’t be any other than the biggest YouTube sensation at the moment - Corpse Husband.

I’m close friends with Poki - her and I were roommates at one point too - so her inviting me to play Among Us with them wasn’t so strange. One or two games, I thought, nothing unusual there, just friendly curtesy. I wasn’t expecting to warm up to the group of famous streamers nor did I expect them to welcome me among them so easily, mostly because my channel is so small and practically invisible to the YouTube algorithm. But soon enough, I became a permanent member of the team, making friends with every single one of those YouTubers I practically thought of a celebrities.

This journey of branching out to other content creators has proven itself to be surprisingly pleasant and has packed my book of friendships to the brim. All of that came unexpectedly, along with a wave of new subs and a higher view count. However, as I mentioned, it hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows. I came to finally understand what my high school friends were talking about when they were head over heels for a boy - the butterflies in the stomach whenever he speaks your name; the importance of the laugh you share with him, how special and different it is; how cool it is to be impostors with him - ok they never said that, obviously, but it’s what I have as a substitute to the ‘when the two of you make eye-contact’ bullshit since Corpse and I have never seen each other in person. That is, of course, because of him being a faceless YouTuber and me being a self-conscious and insecure girl.

We do talk all the time though - texting, calling, chilling on Discord, you name it. Our conversations range from deeply philosophical to ones that might mislead someone into thinking we’re high. There’s no topic we haven’t touched upon and yet we still manage to find something new to talk about. We have plenty of similarities but we also never seem to run out of differences we slowly come across as we keep getting to know each other better and better.

And somewhere along that journey I ended up catching feelings.

Human nature of wanting to connect with other people, I curse you for what you’ve done to me.

You might think I’m being overdramatic about the whole ordeal and that this is just a normal, natural occurrence many people experience in their life - some even daily. Well, not only am I far from used to it, but it’s also taking a toll of a different kind on me.

It’s like a constant slap to the face.

That slap turned into a punch when Corpse and I started following each other on Instagram and I started getting daily reminders of how out of my depth I am with this crush on him. In over my head, especially when you look at all those girls whose pics and videos he reposts on his story. Imagine how that makes me feel, what that does to me - puts me back into the ‘Constantly not good enough‘ basket, the one I’ve been fighting to get out of all my life. In the past and in different contexts I could easily say that it was all just my mind hating me intensely but now - now that I know for a fact I’m not good enough and don’t fit Corpse’s criteria - it hurts ten times as much. I’m not one to do shit for someone’s attention or to attract someone’s eyes, but it really hurts my feelings. Often times, it also leads me to doing dumb things and making rash decisions.

Like the one I made two days ago.

Imagine me cringing and shaking my head at my own stupidity as I admit this: I, in a frenzy, ordered a whole e-girl getup with overnight delivery.

Wait, hold up, it gets worse.

I received it yesterday and spent the whole day regretting that decision, but then, in my most insecure hours - which was somewhere around midnight - I equipped the get-up, took a picture and posted it on my Instagram page. First full body pic I’ve ever posted on there. First pic I’ve posted there of any kind. There to stay, not to be gone in twenty four hours. First pic, and it’s not even of me. It’s of who I want to be in order to fit someone’s criteria. And that fucking stings.

As you might imagine, I’ve spent today’s day regretting that decision as well. Recently my mood’s been nothing but regretting rash decisions that have surfaced under the influence of my ridiculous, constantly-present insecurities. And I would’ve probably gotten over it rather quickly had I not received a message from Corpse that read:

“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic“

I didn’t open the message, I peeped at it as it was a notification on my lock screen. It’s still there, an unread notification. It’s been two hours since I received it and I cannot think of a single thing to say in response to that.

Truth is, I’m afraid. I’m afraid of so many things right now.

I’m afraid of becoming that girl in the photo, cause I’m most definitely not her.

I’m afraid of letting Corpse down by admitting I’m not her.

I’m afraid of what my own mind has made me do because it hates me so much and I’m terrified of what it might do in the future.

I’m afraid and stranded on things to do.

You can’t be her forever, you know. Being her won’t make your insecurities go away, it’ll only make them worse. Haven’t you learned that by now?

I sigh, frustrated and irritated with myself as I grab my phone and tap on the notification, finally deciding to face the music and allow my instincts to carry me through the interaction. Improvisation, that’s one of the few things I’m good at. Let’s hope it doesn’t fail me.

I’m just about to type out my response - not sure what it’s gonna say - when I give the message Corpse has sent me a second glance. I furrow my brows, finding there’s more to it than that peep through the notification let me see.

“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic. You’re personality is so bright and colorful, I could’ve never imagined you were into the darks and blacks“

Because I’m not

I fail to realize until the message has been sent that my thoughts are exactly what I typed out and sent.

And honestly, I’m glad. It feels like I’ve spoken my truth, like I’ve lifted a huge boulder off my chest.

With that rare confidence in mind I go on and delete the picture.

In its spot, I post a picture I just now took - a mirror selfie in my homey get-up consisting of hot pink sweatpants and an oversized blue tee, my hair in a messy bun, my face free of make-up.

I caption it: ‘Oops, had the e-girl filter on for the last one. This is filterless me tho so...Hi 🥴’

A lot better, I’m surprised to hear my inner voice say. I hope I don’t get used to all this kindness on my brain’s part, probably won’t last, but damn if I don’t milk every second of it.

Just then, I receive a new message from non other than Corpse.

“Now that’s the girl I see when I think of you. She’s super cute 😉“

My, oh my, who would’ve guessed Corpse has a game like that - and by that I mean the ability to make me blush so intensely with only a text message.

Now ain’t that better than being someone else, Y/N?

It sure is, it sure is.

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