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stevebabey · 3 months

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steve harrington but it's that jeff winger moment from community. if u have seen community, u will know... my first stobin-centric piece <3 tw for parental neglect and a prior act of self-harm. this is absolutely on the steve harrington has bad parents train <3

“Steven, this is ridiculous.”

Robin freezes in place. Her hand hovers over the remote she's just placed back down, her limbs locking up one by one at the sound of the voice at the door.

It is not a familiar voice. She knows who it is all the same.

She fights not to move, knowing the couch springs, old and rusted, threaten to reveal her hiding place, even if it is her house. Robin is very much allowed to be here. Expected, even.

But Steve? Steve is not.

It’s why there’s one Christine Harrington on the dingy porch steps.

It’s an unwelcome surprise — even after all the fuss of the 4th of July, a thousand police sirens, endless NDAs, and too much blood on his uniform, Steve’s parents hadn’t shown.

Out of town, Steve had said, his bashed in face making it impossible to read his expression. His eyes were haunted and misty but Robin couldn’t tell if it was from the horror of the night or… a loneliness far older.

So Robin had done the fussing. Had dragged him home with her, shooed away her rightfully nosy parents, and mended him up on her bathroom counter.

Steve had been silent, a little wide-eyed as she worked on each cut, each bruise — but with her gentle touch, he had been helpless to do anything but melt beneath it.

He’d called her Robbie for the first time that night. They’d fallen asleep with their hands intertwined, her arm hanging off the bed to reach out to him on her bedroom floor.

Robin still hasn’t met Steve’s parents, even though it’s been more than a couple months since that night.

She’s been to his house countless times too. She knows where the spare key is, if she ever loses her own copy, that is. Knows which stair squeaks on the way up to the second floor and how the lock on the downstairs bathroom gets jammed too easily.

She’s eaten the best grilled cheese of her life in their kitchen, sitting on the counter.

She’s laughed so hard she’s cried on their couch, getting the throw pillows wet with her happy tears.

She’s still never met Steve’s parents. Til right now.

Christine Harrington has her arms wrapped tight around her frame and Robin has no doubt that on her face is a frown that could make babies cry.

She can’t see her face though. Can only just see a glimpse of her tense body from where she sits. Steve blocks part of her view, his own tense frame in the doorway.

He’d answered the door instead of Robin only because he had the foresight to glance at the front window after the first rap at the door. It was late. Robin’s parents certainly wouldn’t knock at their own home and neither of them were expecting visitors.

The expensive car in the drive, a sore thumb along Robin’s street, had given away the identity of just who was knocking so late in the evening. So, Steve had opened it.

“Mom—”

“I mean utterly ridiculous.” Steve gets cut off without second thought, Christine continuing on as if she hasn’t heard him at all.

“Did you expect us to spend all evening chasing you around? Figuring out where you were tonight from the Carlton’s across the road?”

She’s got this snippy tone that Robin’s heard a thousand times from teachers. Patronising. Too cold for it to seem like a genuinely concerned parent.

“The Carlton’s?” Steve echoes, a bit meek. His shoulders have rolled forward, sinking down a bit and Robin can see his tight grip on the door. Still, she stays frozen, rooted to the couch.

“Yes, Steven.” Christine says his full name again, all bite. “Imagine the shame your father and I felt hearing that. Hearing who you had been associating with.”

“Don’t say that.” Steve grits out immediately, anger bleeding into his tone.

The muscles in his back ripple as he forces his shoulders back, as if he had remembered how to stand up straight at the mention of his friend.

Robin aches; at the reminder of the stark differences of their upbringings and at Steve’s unquestionable loyalty. She finally unfreezes, sitting up a little straighter and leaning forward more— ready to spring up from her seat.

She’s not sure what for exactly. She sorta really wants to go slam the door on Steve’s mom’s face and go back to being bundled up on the couch with him. The urge is strong enough to make her fingers twitch.

“Why are you here, Mom?”

There’s a strain to Steve’s question, even though he doesn’t falter in appearance. Robin can’t see his face either though. She hopes it’s got the bitchiest expression Steve can muster.

“Don’t be smart, Steven.” Christine reprimands coldly. “I know that we may have taken a larger absence than intended but that’s not any excuse to parade yourself around with the strays of this town.”

Strays. Robin feels the word pelt into her and burn into her skin, sinking all the way down. It feels like cold water has tipped down the back of her neck. An unwelcome pit forms in her stomach.

She had known, of course, the reputation of a family like the Harrington's. She hadn’t quite known the extent they would go to protect it. Policing your child's friends over a matter of image is absurd.

Somehow, Robin can see how Steve grows even tenser at his mom’s words— hackles raising like that on a dog. His knuckles turn white. But before he speaks, Christine is barreling on like she hasn’t just slandered every one of Steve’s new friends.

“And to leave the house in such a state?”

Robin hears her sigh heavily, as though this really is the biggest problem in her life — which she can’t fathom in the slightest.

There was nothing wrong with Steve’s house. No mess beyond the usual evidence that someone, you know, lived there.

“Mom, I—” Steve starts again.

“Well, I’m sure you have your reasons. You always do.” She says it so pointedly, like Steve was known for peddling lies to weasel his way out of trouble.

It’s so un-Steve it makes Robin blink hard, wondering if she had heard right.

Steve was honest. He owned his mistakes and he took things on the chin. It was something she had liked most about him in the beginning.

Back when it was all snark and Robin told herself she was never going to be his friend, in this universe or anything other. That even then, reluctant co-worker and nothing more, Steve was honest and decent to her always.

“Now, come on now.” Christine Harrington huffs out her demand. “Your father is waiting in the car and there no use winding him up more than you already have.”

Robin’s stomach turns at her words. It had been a topic of discussion between them, one night weeks ago, lips loosened by the dark. I feel like a dog to them, Steve had admitted quietly, his breath against her pillow and his warmth under her sheets. Like they just leave alone most of the time but expect me to perk up and come running the moment they call. I hate it.

“I’m not coming with you.”

The words stammer on their way out like he had forced them out— and Robin wants to sing she’s so proud of her best friend.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not coming with you.” Steve repeats himself, the words a little firmer this time. “I’m… I’m spending the night here, with my friend Robin.”

He trails off, the words weaker, losing steam. Robin rises to her feet, the tell-tale squeak of the couch springs letting Steve know she was still here. Still right behind him.

It makes him stand a little straighter.

“I— I’ll come home in the morning.”

Christine Harrington makes a little scoffing noise, a high pitched faux laugh as if Steve’s said something amusing.

“Tell me when did I raise such an ungrateful brat?” She muses meanly and Robin doesn’t miss the way Steve flinches lightly. “We give you free rein of the house, apt time by yourself, and yet when we request you to spend a single evening with us—”

“You’re not asking, you’re demanding.” Steve cuts in, his voice more heated now.

“Oh hush, Steven. You act as if we’re so awful.”

It’s all dismissal. Everything, every word, a dismissal.

“I just can’t win with you, can I?” Christine sighs again, disappointment dripping from the sound. “Either we’re not here enough or we’re here but you can’t find time to have dinner with your family. Which is it, Steven?”

In the doorway, Steve begins to bristle. Robin really, really wants to slam the door now — if only to stop this conversation that seems to keep cutting deeper and deeper into her best friend.

She steps closer to him, moving as silently as she can, and makes sure to stay out of sight as she places a hand gently on the small of his back.

He’s shaking, she realises.

Her heart twists painfully in her chest.

Then, deathly calm, Steve says, “Did you know in 7th grade, I lied and I told everyone in my class that I got appendicitis?”

Robin blinks at the change in subject, the strangeness of Steve’s comment. She does remember that, vaguely. A boy in the year above— it had been a wildfire rumour that had turned out to be true.

Or so she thought. Staring hard at the planes of Steve’s back, the pit in her stomach yawns with an anticipation of devastation. Her hand on his back curls up a bit.

“You and Dad were gone for the whole month to Washington. It was the first time you had ever gone for that long and you didn’t even tell me until the day before you left.”

“Steven—”

“I just wanted someone to worry about me.” He steamrolls on, tone too casual for the story he was telling. “And it worked."

A beat.

"But then Cassie Lange asked about the scar.”

Robin’s hand on Steve's back twists up tighter. She feels like she knows what’s coming— but wishes it to be not true.

She doesn’t want to think of Steve, little twelve year old Steve, doing all that he can for a scrap of attention he was supposed to be getting from his parents.

“And rather than admit I’d lied…” The words come out too tight. “I went and found your sewing scissors and I made one.”

There’s this icy bite to Steve’s voice, his shoulders tensed back up. Christine still hasn’t said anything.

“I hurt like a bitch but it was worth it. I got a card from every single person in my class.”

“You wanna see the scar?” He asks— then he’s moving, his hand rucking up his sweater and shirt and exposing the skin of his stomach. Christine makes a noise like a muffled gasp. Robin feels a bit sick. Steve drops his shirt.

“And I kept all of those cards I got —all 17 of them stashed them under my bed in a box that I still have til this day.” He exhales through his nose. “Because it was proof that, at some point, somebody actually gave a shit about me. Because you didn’t. You didn’t then and you don’t get to now.”

His words hang in the air. There’s a long stretch of silence where Steve stares down the woman on the porch— someone closer to a stranger than a friend.

“So, I will see you at home, tomorrow.”

And then he slams the door to Robin’s house shut with a finality that shakes the air. Robin tenses up at the loud noise. Steve doesn't move, just stays staring at the closed door.

Behind them both, one of the noisy pipes in the house makes a loud noise. It sounds worse than usual as it breaks the silence.

Outside, Robin hears the click of heels on the pavement as they quieten, moving further away.

The pit in her stomach tightens immeasurably, a faint bile taste in her mouth. She finally remembers to smooth out her hand, pressing it flat against Steven’s back— another reminder that she was there.

If he wanted to talk or he didn’t, she was there.

Suddenly Steve sighs, an exhale so large that he shrinks down a couple inches, his shoulders dropping. It sounds exhausted.

He finally turns away from the door, to Robin, and she can only hope her face conveys every ounce of love, of support, she feels within her chest.

“Steve…” She breathes softly.

He wasn’t crying but just the sound of his name, spoken so delicately, seems to inspire tears. Robin catches the tremble of his lip and moves without thought— throwing both her arms around his neck and wrestling him into a hug.

Steve goes easy, his arms snaking around her middle and holding her back so tightly it nearly makes her squeak. She doesn’t though— just lets him bury his face in her neck, taking these big shuddering breaths, these half-formed sobs that break her heart clean in half.

She doesn’t know how long they stand there. Car engines drone as they pass by the street. The streetlights seem to get brighter. Steve presses himself so close to her, as close as he can, and Robin hugs back just as tight. She gives him all the time he needs.

She wonders if there’s an indent of him on her when he finally pulls back — a Steve Harrington shaped outline imprinted on her soul. It feels like there is.

If she could trace it, she thinks, it would be whatever shape love takes.

“Thanks Robbie.” He croaks out. He’s started scrubbing furiously at his face and she can see the wet sheen of tears as he wipes them away.

Robin doesn’t move far, just unwinds her arms a bit and lets them fall back to her sides. There’s an ache between her brows from how long she’s been frowning in concern. Steve looks more disheveled than usual, his usually perfect hair looking flatter — but he looks lighter too, somehow.

“No need to thank me, dingus.” She says, voice soft. She faux punches his chest and then regrets it when his lips don’t even twitch upward. It’s weird to see Steve all undone.

Robin thinks back to that conversation and the callousness of Steve’s mom. Her uncaring tone, the use of his full name like an insult.

She thinks of what Steve had said.

“I’m sorry you felt—” The words get stuck in her throat which grows thicker as she thinks about it. About a self-made scar on Steve’s abdomen, made by a twelve year old boy who just wanted someone to worry.

“—That you felt like you had to do something like that to yourself. I’m sorry no one noticed what you really needed.”

Steve nods slowly, his eyes glazed with a far away look as he stares somewhere over Robin’s shoulder. He gives this little shrug, a little huff through his nose.

“It’s okay.” He says, voice a bit distant. “I mean, it’s not but… even if I hadn’t meant to tell you, I’m glad someone knows now.”

It takes another second before he finally seems to shake himself from his thoughts, turning to properly look at Robin. His eyes are red-rimmed and the tip of his nose is pink. Tell tale signs of tears.

“I’ve never told anyone that before.”

Robin swallows thickly and it takes effort to choke down the urge to cry.

“Well,” She starts. It comes out too high pitched and tight and she clears her throat. “Thank you for telling me.

Some kind of smile plays on Steve’s lips, as if he can tell that she’s fighting off her sniffling and it’s sorta funny to him. It is, a little.

Because instead of being embarrassed or feeling pitied, he feels… delightfully surprised to have her care so much. To be so upset on his behalf.

“Oh, c’mon Robbie,” He gives her that same faux-punch in the shoulder she did earlier and it actually succeeds in making her lips pull up at the edges. “None of that.”

“You’re such a dingus.” Robin says. It comes out a bit wobbly still. Sue her— she doesn’t have Steve’s insane ability to bounce from one emotion to another in a single second.

Steve grins. He wanders back to the couch and flops down onto it. Robin follows and when she sits down, it’s a fraction closer to him this time. He gives one last scrub of his face, wiping the last of his tears away.

She nudges him with her thigh. She has to check just one more time.

“You alright?”

Steve smiles, crooked in that way that lets her know it’s completely sincere. He reaches forward and presses unmute on the remote, the film they’re watching starting up again with a buzz.

Steve presses his thigh back against Robin’s and in the dim lighting of her living room, his eyes glitter with an emotion that threatens to make her want to cry once more.

“Course.” He says. “I got someone checking up on me now,”

Another pointed nudge of his thigh against hers. “I’m better than ever.”

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steddieas-shegoes · 4 days

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cw: mentions of scarring, canon-typical violence, flashback (not graphic), minor body horror (again, not graphic, mostly just emotional feelings about scars)

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

Everyone gave him weird looks when they walked in, quickly schooling their features when they noticed he was awake and watching them.

He didn’t know exactly what that was about.

They had him on a lot of good drugs.

But eventually he got weaned off them, and he noticed the pull of bandages on his side, and his arm, and his neck, and his face.

He was still unable to get out of bed. Still couldn’t even reach his arms above his chest for more than a few seconds.

But he damn sure reached up to feel the cloth and plastic surrounding his cheek. How had he not noticed for days? How had no one bothered him about it?

Maybe they had and he just didn’t notice. The morphine was one hell of a drug.

Wayne was soft, patient with him. Saw him touching it, saw the way his eyes filled with tears. He’d never been particularly vain, hadn’t cared much about what he looked like to others, but this felt bigger than that. This felt like he was changed in a way that everyone could see.

Add it to the list of things people could bully him for.

He cried himself to sleep, Wayne’s hand in his, silently comforting in the way he’d always done.

When he woke up again the next morning, he was alone.

It was the first time he’d been alone since the boathouse.

He could swear he heard bats outside his door, screams coming from the attached bathroom, flashes of someone dying on the ceiling.

He felt the sharp sting of teeth puncturing his skin.

He felt hopelessness creep into his bones as he gave in.

Maybe this time they would finish the job.

“Eddie!”

Steve Harrington’s voice broke through the thoughts, panicked enough to bring Eddie back to his hospital bed within a second of hearing it.

“Shit, are you okay?” He continued, hand brushing against Eddie’s bandaged cheek.

Eddie nodded once, closed his eyes, leaned into the touch.

He could blame it on any number of things if Steve felt weird about it. The morphine, the flashback, the loneliness.

“You’re okay, Eddie. I promise. Won’t let anything happen to you,” Steve whispered.

Eddie believed him.

He fell back asleep with Steve’s hand gently cupping the mangled side of his face.

If Steve could still touch him there, then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

Steve came by every day, sometimes in the early morning, before visiting hours officially started, sometimes well after Wayne had left to get some sleep. He always smiled when he walked in, a genuine one, not the one everyone else gave that was so fully of pity and pain he couldn’t bear to make eye contact. He sat down on the side of the bed, not the chair like everyone else, not scared to be close.

And every single day, without fail, he would run his finger along the edge of Eddie’s bandage on his face, watching his own movements and cataloging any changes.

Eddie sat quietly, still, scared to put words to anything happening. Scared to tell Steve what it meant to him to have someone acknowledge his pain in this way. Scared to think Steve could mean anything by it.

It was easy to pretend Steve was doing this because he cared.

Maybe he did care.

But he didn’t care the way Eddie wanted him to, needed him to.

So he stayed quiet, still.

He watched.

He fell asleep while Steve talked about his day, the kids, what Joyce made Hopper do around the house.

He woke up alone most days, but that was okay, because Steve would be there eventually.

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

“You ready to get that thing off?” Wayne asked, gesturing to the bandage.

“Oh. Today?” Eddie suddenly didn’t want to ever be without the bandage. Removing it meant he’d see what was under it.

It meant seeing how much that place had ruined him.

The pull of the stitches hadn’t been as obvious with the pull of the bandage masking it.

But now it’s all he felt.

The nurse smiled at him as she put some antibiotic cream over the area, saying he would probably still have to keep it extra clean for the next week or so while the stitches did their job.

Wayne smiled at him in the way that meant he didn’t really want to smile at all, but knew Eddie needed him to.

Steve didn’t come.

Eddie didn’t sleep.

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

He woke up with panic in his chest and a silent scream in his throat.

He woke up with Steve’s hand on his face.

Gentle, soft, but a strong comfort.

“Promise I washed them first. They said we have to be careful about germs,” Steve said quietly.

“You don’t have to. I know it’s…it’s gross. It’s ugly. I’m ugly.”

Steve shook his head. “No. Not gross. Not ugly. Alive.”

“Steve-“

“You’re alive, Eddie. You could have your entire face held together by staples and you would still be a miracle. You’d still be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Well, Steve’s charm wasn’t an exaggeration, was it?

He wasn’t even sure if the skin barely pulled together could blush anymore, or if the heat that should be on his cheek was burning on the outside the way it felt like it was on the inside.

“It’s gonna be awful when it heals. I saw it in the mirror.” Eddie could feel every stitch in his jaw, the few that spread across the corner of his mouth and bottom lip, the ones that were nearly up to his ear. “I’ll always have a crooked face. The scar will always be huge. It’s all anyone will see.”

“Then they aren’t looking.”

Eddie bit his lip, eyes searching Steve’s. “But you are.”

“No. I’m seeing. There’s a difference. I see you. I see what you’ve survived. I see the mark it left on you. I know it wasn’t just the scars that cover your skin.” Steve leaned his head down, touching Eddie’s forehead with his own. “We all have them. And we’re all still here. Your heart’s beating. That’s all that matters to me.”

“Who knew you were so good with words?” Eddie smiled sadly.

“Robin says I’m just good at not having a filter.”

“She’s right as always.” Eddie wrapped his fingers around Steve’s wrist, turning as slowly as he could to kiss his palm. “You’re not scared of it.”

“No. Are you?”

“I’m scared that you’ll change your mind when it’s always there as a reminder of what happened.”

Steve kissed his nose, making him smile for the first time in what felt like years.

“I’ll have the reminder that I got you out of there. That no matter what, the bats couldn’t finish the job. That you were stronger and you made it.” Steve let his hand drop, but quickly laced his fingers with Eddie’s. “I know it’s a lot to ask of you to trust me, but will you? For today?”

“Just today?”

“I’ll ask again tomorrow.”

“And what? Every day after that?”

Steve smirked.

His eyes were glistening with tears, but Eddie could tell it wasn’t sadness or fear.

“If that’s what I have to do.”

They hadn’t even talked about feelings, not really. Nothing that made any sense to Eddie, nothing that they could define. A part of Eddie was still convinced he was in a coma and dreaming this entire conversation up.

But even the nurse had noticed the way Steve watched him, how he touched him, how he fought for him. She said he’d been a firecracker from the moment he carried him into the hospital, dripping blood on the tile, staining the halls with his demands for help.

Wayne said he barely left his side the first day, only doing so when the doctors had told him they would call the cops if he didn’t.

Erica even noticed how things had changed between them, stating that she refused to watch her babysitter and the only DM she had respect for make out.

But Steve held Eddie, made him feel like he could get out of the hospital bed and live a life that wouldn’t keep him running. Steve was there.

Steve might even love him. If not now, then some day.

And Eddie could trust him today.

He could probably trust him tomorrow.

“Kiss me?” Eddie probably shouldn’t. The stitches tugged when he talked, and another mouth anywhere near his wounds was just asking for an infection.

But Steve would be careful. He knew what Eddie could handle.

It was barely a kiss. A graze of the lips at most.

But it was the best kiss Eddie had ever had.

At least until tomorrow.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #drabble #yall I am having thoughts about Eddie with a very large face scar and it led to this #I know people have drawn stuff before but I’m #I mean like what I am thinking is from his bottom lip across his entire jaw #to his ear and then down his neck #and it’s not remotely even or straight #very jagged when it heals because they weren’t really aiming for stitching it straight they just wanted to get it closed #also a firm believer that Steve has no filter at all and is SO GOOD at romantic declarations because of it #like he doesn’t edit anything #if he loves you you’ll know because he says I love you in all words except those at first #anyways wrote this during dessert for my besties birthday dinner so #not checking for typos hope there aren’t any lmao #if my phone autocorrected she’s probably wrong

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toastedkiwi · 5 months

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The Reveal

The Justice League being obsessed with celeb gossip mainly because it keeps shit light. A main topic happens to be Bruce Wayne- an obnoxiously hot billionaire with a heart of gold in a world of darkness and his recent fiancée who’s got him smiling even brighter. It’s hope. Because even though this orphaned billionaire went through some crazy heartbreaking shit, he’s still bright… and a dumb dork.

However, they don’t know that the man of the hour is in the room with them— the scowling dark knight. They proclaim he’s just jealous that Gotham’s White Knight is more lovable… but that’s the point. He keeps things separate. He has for a whole decade. Nobody knows who is under the cowl except for The Martian but he won’t reveal the secret. It’s been a whole decade since the Justice League assembled.

An incident changes everything. They— The Flash and Superman had witnessed Batman kissing a kidnapped victim, the future Mrs. Wayne, and holding her like a lover would. And she’s clutching onto him so tightly— Batman doesn’t let anybody touch him except for the occasional kid and sidekick that can get away with such behavior.

The Flash spilled the details to everyone in the original crew. They’re filled with shock and disbelief. How could she do that? How could he?

It turns into a scolding the second Batman walked into the conference room. When I said to get out of the cave, I didn’t mean that! -That is highly unethical behavior, Bats. I’d never expected you to be crossing that line! -How could you do that to Brucie?!

The cowl came off. The bright blue almost icy eyes that the gays, theys, and gals have been fawning over look at them. They see the faint facial scars from “kidnappings” that make it known he’s a survivor. The black cropped hair is messy, ruffled. A white bandage is over his nose. There’s slight discoloration on his right cheekbone with minimal swelling.

“Are you guys done talking about my “affair” yet?” is all Bruce asked with a smirk.

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oddsconvert · 9 months

Note

Mute Whumpee having been forced into silence until they hear a certain “permission” code word.

Caretaker thinking that Whumpee is just mute from trauma now, and after about a week into their rescue they accidentally let that word slip and next thing they know, Whumpee is sobbing and apologizing and pleading-

Caretaker always liked the peace and quiet.

The sound of his own footsteps down an empty hallway, the creak of the floorboards beneath him, the soft whirring of the air conditioning unit in the corner. He liked the way the silence seemed to wrap around him like a blanket, shielding him from the outside world. He liked the way he could hear himself think, hear his own thoughts crystal clear when it was nice and quiet. When there were no distractions. When Caretaker could just be, without worrying about anything or anyone else.

Solitude is a blessing. Caretaker wouldn’t have traded it for anything in the whole wide world.

Caretaker used to like the peace and quiet…at least, before Whumpee fell into his lap.

The silence is now deafening, ear-piercing. The birds have stopped singing, the only sound is the wind rustling through the crunchy leaves scattered on the ground outside. The air is still and heavy, and the only movement is slow, steady drip of rainwater from the trees.

It is a silence that is full of fear and anticipation, and it is a silence that is waiting for something to happen. The quiet sounds like failure and disappointment. Another day blurs past in the blink of an eye - another day where he’s no closer to Whumpee speaking. Caretaker doesn’t even know the name of the man he rescued from the pits of hell, nor does he know his story. He doesn’t know the sound of Whumpee’s voice. If he has a family and friends, searching day and night to bring him home.

Whumpee is a mystery to Caretaker. And Caretaker is a mystery to Whumpee.

Caretaker peeks through the crack in the door, checking on Whumpee as he sleeps…on the floor. Whumpee lies huddled on the cold, hard ground, ignoring the perfectly made bed in the corner of the room. Like he’s not allowed to sleep in it. He writhes and flinches in his sleep, kicking his legs and whimpering like a dreaming dog. Whumpee is in there, somewhere, even if Caretaker can’t reach him just yet. He has tried everything he can think of, lost countless nights of sleep tossing and turning, and thought of every way to pull himself out of the darkness in his head, but nothing seems to work.

Whumpee suddenly awoke with a start, screaming and covered in cold-sweat, his eyes darting in horror around the room. Dark circles hang beneath his eyes, every inch of him vibrates in terror. When he spots Caretaker lingering in the doorway, he flinches and chokes on a sob.

“Hey, hey! Shhh, you’re okay!” Caretaker bursts through the doorway, rushing over to Whumpee’s side, “You were having another nightmare-”

Caretaker rubs Whumpee’s back as he heaves for air, “Would you like me to stay?”

Whumpee smiles, but it does not reach his teary eyes. His muscles tense like a spring about to bounce, and still he nods his head in agreement. Or submission.

Somewhere, somehow - Whumpee must understand and realise that this is safety. Caretaker is safety. His wounds and gashes are scabbing and closing, dark bruises fading into his pale skin. His belly warm and full. The dog collar strapped tight to his throat when Caretaker found him - long gone. Caretaker burned it.

“I’m so sorry. I wish I knew how to help -” Caretaker holds Whumpee's face, cupping his cheek.

There’s that damn silence again. Whumpee sniffles and wipes at his nose, refusing to even look at Caretaker now. He has all the answers, just not the words to reveal them. So close yet so far.

“I want you to know I will never hurt you, Whumpee. I just want to help… I just…I just want you to heal-”

Whumpee’s eyes go wide with horror, and he freezes like a statue. Caretaker can hear their heart racing in both their chests. Before Caretaker could stop him, Whumpee is kneeling at Caretaker’s feet, wrapping his arms around his legs, clinging like a baby koala and bursting into tears.

“Th-Thank you! Oh, thank you s-sir - thank god!” Whumpee wails, his voice deep, hoarse and scratchy. Caretaker can hardly believe his ears. It feels like a fever dream. Whumpee just spoke. What just happened?! What changed?!

“Whu-Whumpee?!” Caretaker gasps.

“I’m so sorry sir!!! I waited - and waited and…and I tried! I tried so hard to be good. I thought you’d never say it- I thought you'd never release me-”

"Release-"

"Heel. You - You told me to heel-" Whumpee slumps back onto the heels of his feet, sitting by Whumper's heels, his hands folded limp in front of his chest - begging. "My release word. I-I did good? I didn't speak, sir!!!"

"No…" Caretaker falters, "No, you didn't."

---

Drabble taglist: @whatwasmyprevioususername @whumpsday @sparrowsage @whumperfully @wolves-and-winters @canislycaon24 @happy-little-sadist @darkthingshappen

#SORRY THIS IS BAD #AND THIS ASK IS FROM LAST YEAR #BUT INSPO STRUCK #whump #whump writing #answered asks #whump community #whumpblr #whump blog #whumpee #whumper #captivity #caretaker #pet whumpee #recovery whump #mute whumpee #scar mention #whump drabble #whump prompt

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scarlettriot · 7 months

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Horny Bitch Hours • Minors & Ageless DNI

My brain is rotting with the thot of Kiri and his damn face guard staying on while you’re fucking around.

And before anyone gets on my case, I’m talking 30yo seasoned pro hero, looking like a damn tank, with his mane of red hair, Kiri.

But, to feel that cool metal mask against your heated thighs. The points of in digging into your skin and scratching slightly as he pulls you closer and devours you like he’s been starved for months on end.

Maybe it’s a quicky, or you catch him on patrol, and he just needs you right then and there. Dropping to his knees in the alleyway and pushing your plush thighs apart so he can get between them. There’s no time to take his mask off. Why would he bother? It’s not like it really gets in the way or keeps him from getting what he wants.

Or when he gets home from work and you’ve missed him too much. Pulling him in by the sides of it and kissing him so hard as he scoops you up and carries you off to bed. He doesn’t even think about taking the mask off before he’s got you sitting on his face. It’s actually kinda useful.

Your finger wrap around the top of it and use it to move his head where you want him. Or to hold him steady while you chase your high…

Anyway, point is, face guard stays on during sex. That’s all.

#scar’s brain is mush #best red rock shark ♥️🦈#kirishima smut #kirishima x reader #Kirishima HCs #kirishima drabble #I need him #so damn badly #it’s clinical

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slashingdisneypasta · 25 days

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Human!Scar x Younger!Fem!Human!Reader || Drabble

Plot: Scar loves to rub your relationship in the rest of the prides faces since he knows it bothers them. He's a Brat, but you love him.

Warnings: Age difference relationship (/people around you disapproving of it) and a lot PDA. Also sexual references.

Tagging: @asperol-with-izzy , @disney-android-foundation , @lady-love88 , @marinerainbow , @ryantryan6969 , and @thecourtofgraywaves .

As soon as you see Scar approaching the rest of the pride, you hop up from where you were resting, dozing, out in the warm sun and quickly meet him a few bounds away from the others- you know he's here for you, he never visits the pride for anything else. Immediately you greet him with a loving kiss to the cheek and a bright smile.

He mutters something intimate in your ear with a smirk while the other lionesses all watch, and you go hot under everyone's judgemental gazes. God damnit, old man, not these antics again!! You flash him a warning glare, but of course he doesn't care. "Scar, just once, can my boyfriend visit me and not make it a spectacle??"

"Oh, my dear, what's the fun in that??"

"Hello, Scar," Sarabi pipes up in a measured, joyless tone from behind you and you turn around to face your queen, out of respect. The rest of the lionesses refuse to even meet his gaze, but Sarabi's known Scar since they were kids- he's her brother-in-law after all- and she's just... classy. And kind. You like her for that, as well as her dry sense of humour, so you certainly done blame her for disliking him. So long as you can act hospitable, not make your distaste anyone's problem, then you can dislike whoever you want on as little grounds as you want, as far as you're concerned.

... the rest of these bitches, though... Your eyes darken a little, giving the gossipy judgy women all a frustrated, disappointed look as they all look mildly irritated just by Scar's presence. And his body stood so 'inappropriately' close to yours. They're just ridiculous.

When Scar's arm slips around your waist and rests there lazily, you give a surprised gasp; neck snapping so you can look at him. Seriously!?? Honestly, yes, you don't care what these old biddies think about you relationship- but m u s t h e make it so hard on Sarabi?? She's trying!

Yes, apparently, he must, says the mischievous lethargic grin on his handsome face. "Sarabi... you look lovely today. My, what a lucky brother I have."

Sarabi rolls her eyes almost all the way up into her skull, while you stand there quite awkwardly. Scar, shut up. "Scar, don't be brutish."

"Simply stating a fact, Sarabi. Anyway... " Scar's gaze falls on your head so close, and the next thing you know he's nuzzling you; making you freeze. You love it, you love Scar's touch, but r I G H T NOW!?? "Going on a hunt today, are you all?... "

"Did Y/N tell you that?" One of the other lionesses cuts in (Snaps); a very sharp tone in her voice that you don't like at all and causes you to glare daggers at her even as Scar completely lacks a responce to it. His arm around your waist does squeeze for a moment though, as if telling to calm down, now, I'm fine dear...

"I did." You respond shortly, instead, but leave it at that; turning fully into Scar now and letting him do whatever he wants. If they cant act cordial, then neither will you. He gives a devious smirk at your actions, and gently catches your chin between his thumb and his curled forefinger. His eyes bore into yours, so impossibly-venomously-prettily green, and as always you lose yourself in them.

"She did, and I'm just here to bid her goodbye for the afternoon~ So if you'll excuse us, thank you."

Instead of walking you away from the group though, despite his excuse, Scar merely removes his attention from them completely and he's all yours. God, he loves doing this, being intimate where the rest of the pride can see what he's doing. What he does to you. Every time he seems to take it a step further, too; getting more and more shameless in his old age as you've told him before.

Oh? 'Old'?? He'd asked, a look of mock offence on his face.

... practically ancient, you'd told him back; digging your hole in even deeper and smirking about it. Then he'd approached you, or prowled towards you more like, with that predatory look on his devastatingly striking face, raised your chin up, rubbed the tip of his nose roughly against yours, and then kissed you. Then you did some things that the ladies here would definitely drop their jaws over.

With the memory lingering in your mind, you give a quiet sigh; lowering your voice so only Scar can hear. "... you're here to say goodbye, huh?" You ask quietly, holding onto the sides of his clothing.

"Well, that's true. I am."

"Oh, you are a gentile suitor, huh?" You tease, sarcasm gently filling your whisper-voice even as Scar cups your face now; brushing his thumbs methodically across your cheeks and making you feel weak. With all this happening, you almost forget you're being watched by almost the entire pride sans Mufasa. "When'd that happen?"

"I assure you, my dear,.. " He comes in close to your face, so close your noses almost touch. "I'm still a rogue." He growls, then swoops in the rest of the way and presses a hot kiss to your mouth; making you feel a bit, embarrassingly, weak in the knees. Its a deep kiss, but not obscenely long in duration before he's pulling away, letting you go and strolling off. "Goodbye, have a good hunt."

You're left Kissed, warm all over and alone in front of the lionesses- the realisation that they were there that entire time crashing back over you all of a sudden. You give them an awkward smile and a waive, before returning swiftly to your spot among them and ducking your head down; pleased and embarrassed at once. Oh lord. Damnit Scar.

#(if i may add- sarabi doesnt like scar but she's happy for you XD #you seem to be happy and it keeps him out of trouble XD )#Scar #Disney Scar #Disney Scar x Reader Drabble #Scar x Reader Drabble #Disney Scar x Reader #Scar x Reader #Drabble #Disney Villains #Disney Villains x Reader

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moonit3 · 6 months

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a soulmate au with a yandere who isn’t reader’s soulmate, can you imagine it? the angst, the pain, the sobbing and the eventually bloodlust made the yandere when noticing the universe is separating you away from them? this is peak.

the potential scenarios i have in mind are down below, but first some warnings/notices: yandere, scarring, blood, killings made the yandere, breaking inside reader’s house (the yandere, not me), blood, mentioned kidnapping, identity theft, body modification (such as plastic surgery).

matching tattoos!

the moment they noticed the difference from yours tattoo from them was horrible, the numerous plans they made inside their head to finally approach you were immediately broken down and their smile was gone.

this can’t be real! ITS MUST BE JUST A MISTAKE THE UNIVERSE MADE!!!! you are destined to be with them til your last breath like they always planned, but things don’t always go like planned, so they have to adjust to make things work to their needs.

already knowing how your tattoo looks like, the yandere don’t hesitate to pay a great amount of money to change the tattoo they have. the process hurt a lot, but it was worth it when they finally introduced themselves by showing their new tattoo to you.

the realization in your face when you see the matching tattoo on their arm is truly amazing, eyes sparking when you hugged them and asked them if a date sounds good and who is them to refuse?

the world is grey until meeting the soulmate’s eyes!

the yandere expected you to be responsible to make them seeing the colors of the worlds, but they were caught off the guard when they accidentally looked into someone’s else eyes, someone that isn’t you. and it didn’t took much time for the yandere to get rid of that person themselves, it was really easy actually. that idiot was into the delusion they were in love with each other.

and when they came after to watch you, the yandere finds out that your soulmate has already died a long time ago, making your world becoming grey once again. what a devastating news! (nah, they are smiling inside), but the death of your beloved doesn’t change the fact that you can’t love again.

in fact the yandere tells you that he also lost his soulmate and gains your compassion by the sweet lies they tell you, it’s doesn’t take time to get closer to you and then dating.

you couldn’t be happier to have a relationship with another person after your world turned grey again and the yandere couldn’t be happier to be with his true soulmate, but he can’t forget to feed the other one who lives down on their basement, after all they still need to see the colors on the world to choose the best clothes to fit your eyes.

soulmate share each other names on the wrist!

the name they have on the wrist doesn’t match your and nor does your match their, but that don’t last long after changing their whole identity just to be yours. is that a crime? probably so, specifically after he literally obliterated that stupid person who dared to steal their rightful position…but you don’t need to know about that part and also the part they adapt themselves to become your real soulmate.

the money they spent to resemble someone they weren’t, the time they lost to mimic the voice that stupid loser and the people they had to eliminate to not bring any suspicion are worth. they are doing this for you, to your name and to make sure that anyone else hurts you, but you don’t need to know that!

their face hurts a little every time they smile at you (which is often), but that doesn’t matter. blood comes out of their nose one a while (the surgeon told them to not force themselves after the surgery) and sometimes you notice how their voice keeping failing, is something wrong with your significant other? they assure it’s nothing, but you can’t believe them….

@moonit3 writings

#yandere oc #yandere concept #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere male #yandere female #yandere drabble #tw scars #tw body mention #yandere imagines #yandere writing #yandere headcanons #yandere male x reader #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader #yandere hcs #yandere headcanon #➥·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ moon writings

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drabbles-of-writing · 1 year

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nice to see Luz and Hunter are upholding the sibling tradition of the younger one copying everything the older one does. I mean, I’ve never personally wanted to die by a puritan tyrant before getting revived by someone who sacrificed their own life and get magical powers in the process, but to each their own

#for legal reasons this is a joke #the owl house #toh #watching and dreaming #toh spoilers #spoilers #luz noceda #hunter toh #hunter noceda #flapjack #emperor belos #philip wittebane #the titan #kings dad #jokes #luz death #hunter death #drabble post #its alright hunter still gets to flex because he got to KEEP his magical powers #also he got scars out of the process which he in no way wants. but when it comes to one-upping siblings #he can and will use it as ammo against luz. oh you have to TELL ppl abt the time u became god and theres no proof?#and sometimes they wont beileve you? skill issue. I have kickas scars that PROVE my story #this is how they accidentally start being nicer to themselves by insisting that time they died was cooler than the other #'i did it first'#'i did it better'#'you didnt even get to STAY magical you still gotta work like a loser'#'bold words coming from someone who didnt become GOD'#'BRIEFLY'#'ITS MORE THAN Y O U CAN SAY'#everyones worried but dw luz and hunters mental illness is like on the same brain wave of dealing with it (they dont)

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heartshapedmisery · 7 months

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day one! ⇢ orgasm denial with robert fischer

warnings! ⇢ MINORS DNI 18+ | dom!robert fischer x sub!reader, unprotected p in v sex, masturbation ( f ), orgasm denial, creampie, degradation, dirty talk, bit of a breeding kink? idk. lmk if i missed anything!

notes! ⇢ ahhh october is finally here i can't wait for all the fun fics I have planned for this month!! hope you like this one, next fic comes out on Wednesday! :)

✷ main masterlist | 2023 kintober masterlist

"Robbie!" he heard his name fall from your lips, echoing throughout your beautifully large bedroom as he neared the door.

Your moans practically filled the entire penthouse, despite your attempts at being quiet. You couldn't hear the usual click of his shoes since you were too lost in your own pleasure, and really because he didn't want to make any noise out of fear of causing you to stop what you were doing.

He had just gotten home after a long work day and was met with your absence in the front room, which was highly unusual for you. Granted that he had worked later than normal, but you still were always there to greet him with a hug and a kiss no matter how late it got.

So when he didn't see you waiting for him in the living room, he couldn't help but feel the need to investigate.

That was when he heard it. Your soft moans that had been muffled by your bedroom door, but still clear as day. It made him stop in his tracks as he walked down the hall, his fingers white-knuckling the handle of his briefcase as his mind jumped to conclusions.

How could you have had the audacity to fuck somebody else in his home? In his bed? Had you no respect for him at all?

It wasn't until he heard his name rip from your chest did he let out a shaky breath, the anger in his chest fading and being replaced with pure lust.

Carefully, he turned the knob, cracking the door open to see your half-naked figure sprawled out on your large king-sized bed, your fingers playing lazily between your legs. Your arousal glistened all over your fingers, the wet spot on the Egyptian cotton sheets beneath you evidence of your time spent there.

"Fuck," you mewled, still unaware of your husband's presence. He simply marveled at you, fighting the urge to palm himself through his pants as he leaned against the frame of the door to stabilize himself. The muffled sound of wet squelching between your legs as your fingers pumped in and out of you made his dick twitch. He couldn't stand here and watch you anymore. He needed to feel you.

The sound of the door shutting made your eyes snap open, your movements coming to a halt as your guilty eyes met your husband's. A dark expression inhabited his face as his eyes raked over your figure, before stopping at the spot between your legs.

"Robbie, I-" you scrambled to apologize, but he simply shook his head silently as he neared the bed, shrugging his blazer off and throwing it at the foot of the mattress.

"What have I told you, baby?" he whispered, bringing a hand to your jaw and pulling your chin up so you faced him directly. He seemed calm on the outside, but you could see in his eyes that he was nothing but disappointed.

If it had been any other day when he hadn't gotten home as late as he had, he would've even been mad. But, he didn't have the energy in him to allow himself to be angry with you. Not tonight.

"You know better than this," he whispered to you, allowing his free hand to brush the stray piece of hair out of your face. "Don't you?"

A whimper escaped your throat as you felt ashamed for disobeying him. "I'm sorry, Robbie. You were just running so late, I couldn't help myself."

He couldn't help but smirk, his hands moving away from your face to loosen his tie. "Needed me that bad, hm?"

You nodded, your freshly manicured hand reaching up to palm his crotch, rubbing him slowly through his pants as you could feel how hard he was. You smiled giddily, your fingers slowly moving to unbuckle his belt, but he stopped you.

"I don't think you should be rewarded after breaking the rules, baby," he told you, his grip on your wrist tight. "That's not how this works."

Your smile dropped, his hand finally releasing your wrist from his grip. He motioned for you to move back on the bed as he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, his eyes not leaving your figure once. Once he kicked off his shoes, you could feel a dip in the mattress as he knelt down in front of you.

"Lay back, baby," he told you, and you weren't hesitant to comply. Your hair fawned out beneath you on the mattress as he crawled over your body, his hips slotting in between your thighs as your legs wrapped around his waist to pull him in. "Want you to show me how much you needed me."

His hand moved between your bodies to dip into his boxers, pulling out his hard length and allowing it to slap against his clothed stomach. You could feel it rubbing against your thigh, and you would be lying if you were to say it didn't rile you up more.

"Please," you whimpered, your hand pawing at his bicep as he grasped his hard-on and moved to line it up with your soaked entrance. "I'll be good for you, I promise!"

Robert only shook his head, the ghost of a smirk evident on his face as he shoved himself into you without warning, making your eyes roll to the back of your head as he stuffed you to the brim.

"I know you will, baby," he cooed, cradling your head in his hand as he bottomed out inside of you, his tip just barely kissing your cervix. "And you're not gonna come until I say you can, since you've already treated yourself this afternoon, I see."

He looked over to the wet spot from your arousal on the sheets for a split second before returning his eyes back to you, guilt flooding your chest once more under his intense gaze.

"Please, just move," you mewled, complying with his restrictions. You could feel tears begin to well in your eyes as the feeling of him sheathed inside you was becoming unbearable. You needed him to fuck you already.

He didn't say a word as he pulled out of you before slamming his hips back against yours, his length filling you abruptly once again, sending a chill down your spine as your eyes screwed shut. A shaky moan sounded from his throat as he left hot open-mouthed kisses on your neck and chest, trailing from the sweet spot behind your ear to the valley of your breasts. His hips fell into a steady pace pistoning in and out of you, brushing the spot where you wanted him to reach the most each time.

"Fuck, you're soaked, sweetheart," he whispered as his free hand moved to hook on the back of your knee to pull it farther up around his waist, keeping you as close as possible to him. "Bet you've been daydreaming about me fucking this pussy like this all day, hm?" he grunted between moans.

You nodded lazily, unable to form coherent words as he fucked you stupid, his movements becoming rougher and more irregular as he could feel himself slipping off into his own pleasure.

The familiar knot of ecstasy appeared in your lower abdomen once more, a feeling you knew all too well after this afternoon, building stronger and stronger until you felt yourself begin to tip over the edge.

"Robbie!" you whined, clawing at his neck and raking your fingers through his sweet chestnut locks of hair before giving them a good tug to ground yourself. You didn't know how much longer you were going to last.

"What did I tell you, baby?" he breathed, not stopping his movements as he squeezed the flesh of your thigh. "Don't fucking come until I tell you to."

You wanted to obey him, you really did, but he was making it so hard not to come on his cock as he fucked into you at a relentless pace. You tried so hard not to focus on it, rolling your hips around underneath him in an attempt to bring him closer to his climax, hoping that he'd allow you to let go once he did.

"Fuck, yeah," he groaned, his eyes falling shut as his face fell to the crook of your sweat-glistened neck. It seemed to be working, his thrusts becoming sloppier and more unpredictable as he fucked you. "Just like that, good fucking girl."

He wasn't too far off now—and neither were you—especially with your walls clenching down on him as you tried not to think about your own climax. He was a moaning mess above you, the head of his dick twitching deep inside of you as he was on the edge of his release.

"Gonna fucking come, baby. Wanna feel you come with me," he groaned into your neck, lost in his own pleasure as he felt himself fall into the peak of his orgasm. His words were enough to tip you over the edge too after holding out for so long, a wave of ecstasy washing over you as you could feel his hot release fill you to the brim.

"Fuck, Robbie! Give it to me!" you whined, clawing at his clothed back as he gave you a few final thrusts before pulling out, his length becoming too sensitive as he removed the swollen head from your entrance with a hiss.

All that could be heard now was a mixture of heavy pants from the both of you, trying to catch your breath as you were both too fucked out to even think straight.

He rolled over and off of you, his chest heaving up and down as he turned his head towards your exhausted expression, his hand moving to brush away the hair that had been matted to your forehead with sweat.

"Sorry, baby," he told you, watching as your eyes fell shut. "Just had to teach you a lesson."

You opened your eyes again before rolling over and snuggling into his side, laying your head on his chest. You could hear his heart beating fast, and you couldn't help but smirk as you could feel it pounding against your cheek.

"It's alright," you told him. "Might have to break the rules more often if that's how you're gonna punish me."

#robert fischer smut #robert fischer x reader #kinktober #kinktober2023 #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #scarlet was here!#scar's drabbles

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pupkashi · 11 months

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gojo satoru who is more than grateful to finally have you in his arms perfectly safe after a much too exhausting fight with the king of curses.

he’s breathless as he’s kissing you, chasing after your lips and not once wanting to pull away, pouting when you do.

“i thought you were gonna-” your lips are wobbling and he stops you before you can finish your sentence, pulling your head into his neck and shushing you gently.

“don’t say it love bug” there’s a small sob coming from your body and he’s holding you like you’re gonna disappear in front of him.

he doesn’t let his thoughts consume him, overjoyed at the thought of being able to order takeout and curl up on the couch with you. he’s all smiles when you’re playing with his hair, interlacing your fingers with his much more calloused ones, your heart falling a bit as you take note of the bruises on his knuckles.

it’s only when you’re in bed together, your faces merely inches apart that the reality of it all is hitting him.

when your eyes are studying his face, memorizing his every feature with too much love, he isn’t sure how one can have so much love in their body. he’s sure he sees the love from your eyes pouring into his body, making him feel warmer than usual.

it’s when you’re placing the lightest of kisses on his brand new scars, the ones on his cheeks, on his forehead, by his eyes. you’re kissing away the saltiness of his tears, swiping them with your thumb as you coo to your lover.

“I’m right here,” you’re holding him tightly as he lets go, his firm arms holding you in place as he cries into your neck, you’re rubbing his back softly, trying to decipher the words he’s muttering.

“I’m sorry for making you worry so much, all i thought about was coming home to you” his words hit you hard, only managing to hold him tighter and screwing your eyes shut. any words of comfort die on your lips before you can speak them, the only thing slipping past your lips are two words that bring enough comfort to your lover.

“I’m here” you mutter, pulling his face back and taking in his tear stained face, “everything’s okay” you smile, stray tears finding their way down your cheeks before placing small pecks over satoru’s face.

“everything’s okay” you repeat, unsure if it was for satoru’s sake or for yours.

the two of you don’t let go, your limbs intertwined with no intention of moving anytime soon. it’s quiet in your shared bedroom, only the sound of your steady breathing against gojo’s chest, your hair tickling him a bit with every inhale.

and gojo satoru is grateful. he’s grateful to be here with you, to be alive and know he can wake up tomorrow morning with you in his arms, giggling at his silly remarks and terrible jokes. he can spend his days hugging you from behind as you cook and helping you bake. he can pester you to buy sweets on grocery shopping trips and spoil you with things you’ve always wanted. he can turn the ac down a bit so that you cuddle him during movie marathons. he can wash the dishes as you dry them and put them away because you hate washing them. he can bring you breakfast in bed on days he’s up before you.

he’s grateful to be home, because home has always been with you.

a/n: ITS NOT GOJOVER WE ARE SO FUCKING BACK YALL

masterlist

#this was inspired by his face scars idk #it got out of hand #manifesting he is alive and well #my baby boy 😭#jjk spoilers #jjk manga spoilers #jjk 226 #(?) kind of ? idk 😭#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru drabble #gojo satoru one shot #gojo satoru x reader fluff #satoru gojo drabble

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scarredlove · 1 month

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Just Resting

A little, soft drabble of my King of Fools AU You're taking resting, taking in the morning and afternoon breeze. And people around you take care to not disturb.

King Sun X You (non gender) X Fool Moon

You laid on the haystacks in the stables, horses whining and tapping the ground sporadically in the depths of the shack. You felt so at peace. You had no shows scheduled for the day, nor any meetings to attend. Crossing your arms over your belly, a sigh left your lips as you laid there, fully conscious, but your eyelids refused to open to the afternoon light.

After a few minutes, you could hear a low discussion happening somewhere in the distance, sounding quite formal. A voice cut off the other into silence and there was a small laugh before a dismissive mumble of words was given. One set of footsteps drew near and the light that warmed your eyes was disturbed, a small sigh leaving whoever was nearby. They stood right next to you. And yet you could not open your eyes. Nor could you find words.

In a state mimicking sleep, the figure leaned down and a gloved digit ran over your cheek softly, brushing loose hairs aside that threatened to disturb your peaceful state. Even with eyes closed, you could feel a smile radiating from whomever was looming above.

Humming, the footsteps wandered further into the barns, dry grass and gravel crunching beneath their weight. After a brief pause, the soft, rough noises grew louder once more, the presence coming back towards you, and with a flourish, a breeze wafted around you before cloth was draped over your figure.

A blanket?

There was another chuckle and after their gloved fingers combed through your locks a few times, he cleared his throat and began walking away, back towards the castle, light returning to your eyelids, pink being all that you see.

—

You continued to lay there as the day passed on, the setting sun closing in on the mountains before it vanished for night. The faint sound of crickets could be heard from the tall grass surrounding the stables, various critters harmonising like a ceremony. But you still felt so less tired than you originally felt when laying down on the hay stacks, giving a long sigh into the nothingness.

The horses chirped merrily as a bundle of bells sang in the back of the shack, praise and care mumbling somewhere in the distance as the large creatures heaved happy snorts. The crescendo of bells drew closer before abruptly pausing in their approach, as if surprised to see you there in the stables. Silence followed for a minute or two, feet shuffling on the dirty stone ground as the figure debated to come closer or not.

But you weren't bothered by whoever it was. You were at peace here. After a little while longer, soft jingles drew near to you hesitantly, slowly, as if trying to careful as to how the person's bells rang. There was a gravelly grunt before a huff followed. Before long, the bells resumed their song, coming closer and closer… before growing quite again, walking straight past you.

Moments passed listening to the soft breeze brushed against your cheeks, hair tickling your skin slightly but thankfully not in an uncomfortable way, nor was the air that cold for the growing evening. *Ring*. Jinging returned to your ears as it grew louder once more, snapping you out of your slight daze as you almost succumbed to sleep. The bells halted beside your bed of straw as you sighed, expression not shifting at the arrival of this somebody.

A gentle touch stroked your ear slightly, tucking hair back into place. Sighing to themselves, breath brushing your face a little, fingers streaked a little into your locks before placing something soft behind your ear. The touch ran the rim of your earlobe before moving away, pausing for a moment at their handiwork before walking back away, suddenly bursting with jingles and grunts as the wood above creaked as if suddenly having additional weight upon it.

Without opening your eyes, your fingers reached up to your hair to inspect the strange weight nestled behind your ear. Something soft and small met your digits, before gently removing it. Opening your eyes for the first time in a while, it took a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the orange and purple skies in the corner of your vision. But within your hold, standing tall, bright and vibrant, a flower met your vision.

A dandelion.

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newtabfics · 8 months

Text

He Has Scars Like Constellations and I want to kiss the stars.

He freezes when your hands stop him from flinching away. They don't move, they don't dare twitch. They were still on his skin, coaxing him to relax. he watches you move closer once he has and he's gone after that.

Your fingertips trace slowly, careful with every touch the memory of those scars could never bring. it's almost as though you're trying to change the memory into a happy one.

And happy it is because now when he sees his scars, he remembers the way you leaned in close and kissed them. You kiss every scar tenderly, tongue reaching out slightly to taste him.

He can't help but writhe under you as you slowly make your way up his body and to his lips. He's moaning your name--No. Whining out your name. He's an absolute mess already!

By the time you're looking up at him, lips inches from his, he feels ready to burst. He kisses you feverishly and doesn't allow you any more of your relentless torture.

Though he'd take your tongue on his skin any day of the week, it's too much. Too intimate. Too vulnerable. He needs to regain control and make you pay for the torture you just sent through his flesh.

Definitely Astarion-coded, but I like to think it can also apply to Diluc, Tartaglia, and many other characters that have been in combat or imprisoned.

#drabble #bg3 astarion #bg3 smut #genshin smut #diluc genshin smut #tartaglia smut #kaeya genshin smut #wriothesley #wriothesley smut #scars #tw scars #intimacy #gentle #gn reader

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palossssssand · 6 months

Text

Reconciliation

Old dome squadmates Trito and Kinoga get together at Trito’s place to catch up after years apart and a meeting by chance on the surface.

⚠️Warning for suggestive content below + implied chest trauma

After several weeks of chipping away at this, the comic is finally done! Very happy to have rendered a full 7 pages of oc stuff. Please give it a read!!

read the full 7 page comic on twitter! <-please do not click if you are a minor and view at your own discretion, this link contains explicit 18+ content. Thank you!

For the lore, includes stuff from splatoon Octo Expansion: Trito and Kinoga were a part of an octarian military squad living in the domes, Kinoga being their squad leader that many looked up to and admired. There were 6 of them who considered each other to be their closest friends. Upon hearing about the tests from Kamabo Co. and the allure of the Promised Land, Kinoga wished to seek it out in order to find a better life for their squadmates. A difficult decision, since it meant leaving them all behind, promising to come back and take them there.

Kinoga enters the metro trials and soon realizes that the Promised Land isn’t what they expected, their hope crumbling when they encounter one of their sanitized squadmates Agara, who followed suit to the metros soon after. Kinoga narrowly escapes, eventually making a break for the surface, carrying the shame of unwilling to return for their squadmates with them (it’s justified, of course, there might not be an easy way in, they might get caught again, Agara is gone)

Trito enters the Metro not too long after Kinoga does, wanting to catch up to them, and an accident that occurs in a test early on results in Trito’s near sanitization, giving him his scar. Terrified, and realizing what happens to his fellow octolings, Trito is unable to return to his squadmates, not wanting to break the news of their loved ones’ untimely fates. He hides away on the Metro until the events of OE happen and Agent 8 dismantles Kamabo, opening an opportunity to escape to the surface. Unwilling to face the possibilities of going back, Trito takes his chance to leave, starting a new life and feeling that it’s for the best if he doesn’t acknowledge it, though he missed his friends dearly.

Years later, Trito and Kinoga run into each other on the streets of Splatsville by chance, and the implications of them both being on the surface and alive hit them, having to carry the burden of leaving their loved ones behind and finding out the truth, knowing the other felt exactly the same, not knowing the fate of their squadmates and not wanting to think about the possibility of them being gone. They have a tearful reunion about it, and set up a meet later, to sit down and really talk, and get into a brief argument when the topic of returning to the domes comes up. Trito’s in disbelief that Kinoga never went back down to check on the rest of their squad, wanting them to have been a better person than him, who was too cowardly to do so. Eventually they do reconcile, and end up at Trito’s place to hook up, where the above comic takes place :]

#my art #my ocs #splatoon #suggestive #trito #kinoga #aaahhhhhh this is finally done!!!!#a small drabble turned into a sketch turned into a full fledged rendered comic. blowing up #in any case I hope people enjoy this as much as I do…they are so everything to me #splatoon ocs #I have so many thoughts about these two that I could not articulate in a tumblr post. they miss each other so so much #its about the. I’ve known your body. and coming back after years and going oh…this is new…#there’s no context where trito would be able to reveal this to kinoga except for boning #only kinoga could look at it and immediately understand. sparing him the pain of explaining what happened and reliving it #if it had been anyone else he probably would have stopped them the moment the hand went under the sweater #but he’s just so so caught in the moment of the reunion. and the everything . Auughhhh #stealing this from a friend but theyve changed and they haven’t changed at all. I’m going to be ill #chest trauma #scarring #‘what if they explored each others bodies’ or whatever. okay #if it wasnt clear enough or implied trito and kimoga are octolings from the underground domes #nsft #oh and the. really long lore explanation <33 teehee #they are so so much #not partners but more than friends. secret third thing. guh #its about holding each other so tightly and physically for confirmation that they weren’t seeing things and that the other was Really There #like the fate of their friends not on their mind constantly and then it all comes flooding back and all of a sudden it opens the door #for finding the others and now they won’t have to go back and face the possibility alone #IM GOING TO BE SICK!!!!!!!!!!!!#this has got to be the most ive rambled in the tags I’ve just been rotatinf them with fado for the past barely a month and they are

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