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fallingdownhell · 2 months

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Hello !! I wish u a happy Valentine's Day >< love it writing ;)

Can I request Best Friends with feelings Sumero boys(+wanderer) reacting to gn!reader being gifted here and there all day bc it's Valentine's day?

Thank u! U can ignore this if I don't want to write :)

Happy belated Valentine's Day! Hope everyone had a nice day celebrating with their loved ones, be it romantically or platonically<3 Characters Included: Tighnari; Cyno; Alhaitham; Kaveh; Wanderer Content: gender neutral reader; no established relationship; the boys are getting jealous; fluff; love confessions..?; not proofread yet Word count: 2,6k words Enjoy<3

Tighnari

he loves the fact that one of his closest friends actually works with him, which means that you can see each other on a regular basis

not like Cyno or Kaveh, who he sometimes doesn't see in days or weeks, depending on their workload

Tighnari enjoys working with you, but not just because he's friends with you. You complement each other, his strenghts negate your weaknesses, and vice versa. When he's stuck in his research on some specific topic, you offer him some insight from a different perspective that he otherwise would probably have never even considered

Plus, you're very easy to talk to, and just an overall fun person to be around. It's no wonder he'd want to be your friends.

So it's also no wonder that one day, he realizes that his feelings for you go much deeper than just friendship

Is he gonna do anything about it, though?

No. At least, not right away

He's let it sit and sink for a while, come to terms with the fact that he actually likes you in that way, and that it's not just some fleeting crush. He'd plan to tell you eventually, but much to his dismay, he forgot what time it was while he was pondering about his feelings for you

Valentine's Day was here, and of course, he's heard plenty of talk among his fellow forest rangers. He knows that many of them plan to ask you out, thinking that it'd be the right time

He realized what day it was when the first one came up to you and handed you a self crafted bracelet that you gladly accepted. Tighnari watched the interaction take place intently, yet swallowed down his feelings

But then another one came up to you... and another.. with every person that came to you, handing you gifts and trying to flirt with you, his anger at them rose, and he couldn't take it any longer

With an annoyed tone, he pushed all his responsibilities aside for today, went over to you and grabbed your hand, almost demanding of you to accompany him to the city, since he claimed he had some important errands to run and needed your help with them. In truth, he just wanted you as far away from all of the attention from other people as quickly as possible

His lie became obvious pretty fast when he made no attempts to actually go to Sumeru City with you, but you'd already realised why he did what he did, yet decided not to comment on it

the two of you took a stroll along a close by river, and after some time, sitting down and just watching the nature around you

Not many words are spoken, but it's also not neccassary

he has a feeling that you're aware of his feelings for you now, as well. But he won't say anything to you just yet. He needs some more time, but you can be sure that you won't have to wait too long..

Cyno

I see him as one of those people who are not to keen about Valentine's day. To him, it's just a day like anyone else. He's also one of those people that would voluntarily work that day

He's never understood the appeal of it. Why celebrate one special day with your partner, when you can show your love and affection for them any given day? Why safe it for one day in the whole year?

Not that he has a partner to begin with, but it's the whole concept about it that just irks him

however, there is a certain someone that Cyno has had feelings for, for quite some time now. A certain someone that was a desert dweller just like him. Who came with him to the City at a young age and who he stayed friends with all those years

You and Cyno go way back, having been friends with him since you were kids. When he was leaving the desert, he couldn't stand the thought of leaving behind the only person he ever knew and trusted, so he convinced you to go with him. Not like anything was holding you in the desert to begin with, so you agreed

Cyno has come to terms with his feelings for you a long time ago, but has yet to make any move on you. Sure, he's dropped some hints here and there, and made some - very poor - attempts at flirting with you, but you never picked up on any of it

and now, he kinda regretted never telling you more specifically. As every other Valentine's day before, Cyno was working this one, too

he was currently on his way to track some hints he'd gotten, leaving the Academiya, when he catched a glimpse of you, standing on the platform before the Academiya building, surrounded by people

he froze in his steps, deciding to stick around and see what was going on. And it didn't take long until he figured it out..

from the people surrounding you, many were offering you gifts, holding them in front of you and begging you to accept them, while you smile shyly and try to appease as many of them as possible

quickly, jealousy was rising within him, but also his protective side started to show. He knew you disliked crowds, never having the courage to deny people of anything, so he knew you had a hard time right now

without another thought, he rushed to your side, putting an arm around you protectively, while he scared away the crowd under some made up excuse

as soon as they were gone and you had your space again, you let out a relieved breath, thanking him for getting you out of this

Cyno stares at you for a second before looking away again, then claiming that he'd walk with you until you were home safe. Just to make sure that no one else would bother you

on the way there, he's thinking hard. This incident showed him, that he'd have to step up and confess his feelings to you, soon. Or someone else might get ahead of him and snatch you away. And he couldn't let that happen..

Alhaitham

another one who I think wouldn't be too big on Valentine's day, but he'd be much more indifferent about it

much like Cyno, he sees no sense in picking out one "special" day in the year to celebrate love when you can just do it whenenver

however, he does begin to see at least some appeal to the thing when he develops feelings for you, one of his best friends

he loves that he can just spend time with you in silence. That you don't always have the need to converse with him, and instead just enjoy the presence of each other while each of you might be doing their own thing still

however, it still takes Alhaitham some time to accept that he's having these types of feelings for you, so you can't expect a confession from him anytime soon, either

he tries to approach his feelings with logic first, but he comes to realize that logic does not help him in the slightest with this particular "problem"

so instead, he decideds to throw logic out the window for this one and instead settles on the plan to use the upcoming valentine's day this year to actually confess how he feels to you

after talking to a bunch of people about different ideas for gifts, he decides to go with what seems to be the "standard", some flowers and chocolates

he plans on gifting them to you after your shift for the day is done and you're heading home, since he comes by and walks you home from time to time, so it wouldn't be weird for Alhaitham to show up

however, as he arrives, he becomes witness to a scene, similar to what he had planned to do. A man in front of you, asking you to accept his flowers as he asks you out on a date

Alhaitham's heart immediately drops, and he finds himself frozen in place, unable to do anything about it. The only thing he can do, is watch as you laugh awkwardly at the guy and then kindly decline him

seeing you reject him gives him some hope again, and he watches the guy leave first before he approaches you, his gifts for you hidden under his cloak. Even if you rejected him, he was now hesitating wether it was a good idea to actually follow through with his plan

the same exact thing then happened four more times while he was walking you home. Some random person would approach you on the street and hand you some form of a Valentine's present. And every time, you'd kindly turn them down with an uncomfortable smile

seeing the interactions both gave him relief - as you were always rejecting them - but also made him feel more anxious

in the end, when the two of you arrived at your home, he had half a mind to just not say anything at all and just let it go. But then, another thought entered his head that he couldn't ignore away. What if, if he was to forego his chance now, someone else would show up who you'd ultimately agree to go out with?

he couldn't let this happen, not without shooting his own shot, at least

so, before you close the door on him, he stops you, and very awkwardly pulls the flower and chocolates out from under his cloak, handing them to you

he sees the surprise morph into your expression, as he's anxiously waiting for your answer...

Kaveh

I personally think that Kaveh would be very obvious if he has a crush on someone. Wether that be a close friend or someone he doesn't personally know, he's easy to figure out

he wears his heart on the tongue and is very expressive, so one simple question is often enough to figure out what he thinks about certain people

so, it was obvious to you, and everyone around him, that Kaveh has been having feelings for his best friend, You

has he done anything about that or plans on doing anything?

No.

as much as he's aware of his feelings, he also has no idea how to go about it. How would he ask you out in the first place? And why, for all Archon's sake, would you even say yes to him in the first place?

He has to come to terms with that question and many similar ones first, before he feels like he's ready to ask you out

unluckily for him, you're quite an impatient person, and waiting around for him to do something, when you've already dropped so many hints that you liked him, too, was just too damn exhausting

however, luckily for you, Valentine's day was just around the corner, and maybe, you could use that to your advantage..

that day, you'd ask Kaveh to accompany you on a stroll through the city, to get him out of his little office that he's been cramped up in recently to finish a project of his

he gladly took the offer, figuring that he could really use the fresh air. He always loved to spend time with you, talking and laughing with you about anything and everything that came to your minds

however, he noticed that on this particular day, people seemed to approach you every so often, with roses in their hands, engaging in conversations with you that Kaveh stepped away from, not wanting to eavesdrop on private matters

still, he inwardly scoffs to himself. What are these people even trying to achieve? Don't they know that roses aren't even your favourite flowers?

But the more he looks around the city, he slowly comes to realize what kind of day it is today

Now the roses also made sense... and now he could also figure why they were all approaching you, probably to ask you out

And, why wouldn't they? You were a catch, no matter which angle one were to look from. Anyone would be lucky to be able to call you their partner, but.. Kaveh wanted it to be himself, not some random person who doesn't even know you as much as he does

the more people talk to you, the more jealous Kaveh grows as the day goes on, yet he never says anything about it or to you. He just intently watches everyone that dares come closer to you, narrowing his eyes on them, like they just personally offeneded him

once the day is over, Kaveh then locks himself into his office, trying to come up with the most elaborate plan to ask you out. He wanted it to be something grande, something that would be better than anything anyone had ever done for you, that would outdo all the gifts and presents you'd gotten today... and once the plan is set, he'll be making it happen as soon as possible..

Wanderer

not fond about this holiday. At all

he hates how stuck up people can get with their feelings. Why did they have to make a celebration out of it and shove it down everyone's throat?

scoffs loudly whenever he sees a couple act all cutesy and stuff on Valentine's day. It doesn't really bother him all that much on any other day, but that specific day? He hates it

he also hates you. You may be his best - and only - friend, but he hates the way you make him feel sometimes

he tries to deny it for a very long time, chalking it up to some malefunction of his body, but there comes a point in his life where he can no longer deny the feelings he has for you

much to his dismay, the day he'd make that realization just had to be Valentine's day... the fucking irony. Celestia really must hate him

He didn't think anything of it when he invited you to join him for some leisure stroll outside Sumeru City that day. He's waiting for you before Lambad's tavern, impatiently tapping his fingers against his crossed arms

finally, he notices you, but just as he was about to call out to you, he notices someone else approach you and engaging in a conversation with you

the Wanderer had half a mind to walk over there and pull you away, because how dare you make him wait even longer? But then, that person hands you a flower, gifting it to you, and he froze seeing you accept it

soon enough, you'd part ways with that person and finally join the Wanderer, but by that time, his mood has already turned sour

he still goes on that stroll with you, but the entire time, he basically ignores you as he tries to figure out why he feels so frustrated by this interaction. Why would you accept flowers from a lowlife like that? Wasn't he enough for you?

As soon as that thought entered his mind, his eyes widened and he knew he was screwed, that he'd somehow caught feelings for you. But realizing it, and admiting to it, are two completely different things

when you two return to Sumeru City, he witnesses two other people approach and do the same thing, gifting you a flower each that you accept with a kind smile

and with every interaction he sees, his anger and resentment towards them grows and grows

he can't deal with it any longer, so he leaves the scene without any further explanation

he'd have a lot of thinking to do, as well as coming to terms with some things. You wouldn't see him for a while, even if you were to seek him out. He just needed to do this on his own, because the next time he sees you, he plans on making you his, no matter what it would take..

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stevethehairington · 1 year

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Eddie doesn’t tell the Corroded Coffin guys about his relationship with Steve. Not at first.

He knows they wouldn’t bat an eye at the fact that he’s got a boyfriend; they’re cool like that. But telling them who his boyfriend is? They're cool enough to accept Eddie being gay, but dating a jock? Dating Steve Harrington? Eddie isn’t so sure how they’d react to that.

So he keeps that little detail to himself.

Not too carefully, though, as it turns out.

Eddie shows up to Wednesday band practice with a new ring on. It’s big, just like most of his rings are, but it’s a whole different breed of gaudy, with a huge emerald gem right in the center and thick lettering circling it and embossed onto the sides.

Gareth is the first one to clock it for what it is.

They finished up their first run through of their latest track (something new about a totally badass warrior who's beaten and battered and bruised, but won't let that stop him from throwing himself intro the fray) that Eddie just finished penning the lyrics for, then broke for a quick break and some water. Eddie stands across from Gareth, right hand wrapped around a water bottle, new ring on display. Gareth is close enough that he can make out some of the smaller details now — a paw print, the word ‘Hawkins’ right above it — and then it clicks.

“Dude,” he says, smacking his hand into Eddie’s arm. “You got a class ring? Since fucking when?”

Eddie’s face seems to go through several emotions all at once — confusion, surprise, a brief flicker of panic. It smooths over pretty fast after that, settling into something much more controlled, something much more collected after.

He switches the bottle to his left hand and flattens his right in the air, admiring the ring for a moment. “Oh, this?” Eddie asks with a chuckle, flashing it towards Gareth and the boys (who have all perked up in interest and shuffled closer), too fast for any of them to really get a good look at it.

“Holy shit, that is a class ring, what the fuck, Eddie?” Archie asks, face twisting up.

Jeff looks surprised too, squinting at Eddie’s hand, curiosity painted across his features.

Eddie doesn’t deign any of them with an answer, just sort of shrugs and drops the water bottle, replacing it with his guitar. He twists at the tuning keys on the head of his baby, ignoring it as Gareth and Archie erupt into a flurried back and forth of reasons why in the hell Eddie would be wearing one of those monstrosities.

Jeff is the only one to jump to his defense. “It’s weird, sure, but, like, is it really that bad? I mean, he spent six years there, so what if he wants to, like, commemorate it or something?”

Gareth and Archie turn twin what the fuck looks on Jeff, who just shrugs.

He doesn’t look too convinced of his own argument either — which is pretty merited. Eddie getting a class ring goes against, like, everything he stands for. He’s pretty sure he’s ranted about how stupid class rings are. How pointless they are. Plus, those suckers are expensive as fuck and Eddie has plenty of other, more important things to put that money towards. All things considered, they have every reason to be suspicious of it.

They all turn back towards Eddie, looking for confirmation or contradiction, but Eddie doesn’t offer them either.

He just gives the ring another short look, shrugs, and says, “So are we gonna get back to playing or what?”

And that’s that.

Except it isn’t.

Because at some point Eddie must have been playing with the ring, and he must have slipped it off, must have spun it around, must have stuck it back on his finger with the other side exposed. The side with the “1985” on full display. Big and bold and hard to miss.

And, of course, they notice that.

“Does that say ‘1985’?” Gareth asks, eyebrows pulled together and mouth curved down into a confused frown.

“‘85? Eddie, dude, isn’t that the year that you were supposed to graduate the first time?” Archie asks, just as baffled.

Jeff elbows him. “No, that was ‘84,” he corrects. “But he didn’t graduate in ‘85 either.”

“So why the fuck do you have a class of 1985 ring then?” Gareth questions. It’s hard for him to look menacing with that floppy hair of his, but he crosses his arms over his chest and fixes demanding eyes on Eddie anyways.

Eddie, once again, does not answer any questions. In fact, the only acknowledgement he does give them is a very casual, very nonplussed “Oh? Does it?” when they keep pointing out that the ring boasts “1985” instead of “1986”.

It’s pretty amusing, actually, listening to them trying to figure it out. But none of them come close to the truth. And Eddie certainly isn’t going to be the one to hand that over to them.

It goes on like this for a few more practices. The mystery of who Eddie’s class ring actually belongs to (because the boys have decided that there is no way it actually is Eddie’s. Not with the 1985.) continues to plague Corroded Coffin — before practice starts, during their breaks, in the aftermath of their jam sessions.

Eddie doesn’t stop wearing the ring, despite it, though. And he always finds a way to change the subject when Gareth, Jeff, and Archie bring it up, or he gives them stupid nonanswers instead that make them huff and puff.

It all comes to a head one day when practice is getting close to ending and a familiar maroon Beemer pulls up outside of Gareth’s garage. The engine cuts, and then out pops none other than Steve goddamn Harrington himself.

The boys are vaguely aware that Eddie is on friendly terms with Steve, but they don’t know the full extent of it. They don’t know how deep it actually runs. And they certainly don’t know that they’ve been dating for the better part of four months now.

It’s almost funny how they didn’t even think to make that connection.

Until now.

Until Steve Harrington saunters his way up Gareth’s driveway and stops in the mouth of the garage, arms crossed loosely over his chest, head bobbing along like he’s actually enjoying the noise they’re making. There’s a certain look on his face, in his eyes — something pleased, something contented, something unbearably soft, as he watches them jamming out. As he watches Eddie jamming out.

They’re in the middle of a song, and everyone’s sort of lost in their instruments, lost in the music — except for Gareth. He spots Steve first. He sees that look on his face, follows his eyes to find them glued to Eddie. Observes for a few seconds, and watches as Steve’s stare doesn’t waver once.

He only has eyes for Eddie.

And that’s when it clicks.

Gareth’s hands stop moving, the drumbeat cutting off as his sticks just hover and he stares, slack-jawed.

It takes a couple of seconds for the others to notice that Gareth stopped playing, and when they do they stop too and turn on him.

“Gareth, the fuck, dude?” Archie says, throwing his arms out.

“Everything good, man?” Jeff asks.

“Class of ‘85,” Gareth says, dumbfounded, finally pulling his eyes away from Steve to fix them on Eddie, who freezes in the middle of making googly eyes at Steve and slowly turns to meet Gareth's gaze. "No fucking way."

Eddie offers Gareth a sheepish, lopsided smile and a one shouldered shrug. "Surprise?"

#stranger things #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #gareth emerson #jeff stranger things #'unnamed freak' who has now been given the name archie lol #mack writes #macks ficlets

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l44serbeam · 1 year

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— PASS TIME ࣪𖤐 𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

warnings — swearing, insecurity, anxiety, blood, guns, smut, heavy make out, fingering (r!recieving), nipple play, softdom!ellie, hair pulling, hickeys, degradation (y/n calls ellie pathetic in a joking way)

Stuck in a abandoned pharmacy closet during a storm while on a patrol, Ellie seems to have some interesting ideas on what to do while you wait it out. these ideas lead you to believe that maybe she doesn’t hate you as much as you thought she did.

not proofread

There was one thing y/n had in agreement with Ellie Williams and that was that the two of them did not get along.

Whether it was being paired together on patrol and disagreeing on working methods or bickering over meals, the two just couldn’t seem to live in harmony.

It wasn’t because they were polar opposites or anything. On the contrary, the two were quite alike. Both carried an aura of intimidation and were known to be very good fighters. In reality, they had no real reason to have this dispute.

So when Maria partnered the two up for a two day long run to an abandoned town many miles out, not even an hour went by before they were both banging at her door.

“Its for the best. You two are my strongest forces and it’s a far place…” Maria began, looking away from them as she folded the blankets on her couch. “We’re running low on medical supplies and i don’t have enough people to spare to send a whole team. Plus, it’ll do you guys good to be out there with one another. Get to know each other maybe. End what ever stupid rivalry y’all seem to have going on.”

The two groaned and protested but Maria made it clear her pairing was final, no questions to be asked about it anymore.

“This isn’t some simple patrol y/n. No fucking around. Follow my lead, we don’t separate, and we don’t detour.” Ellie instructs sharply as the two rode down the forest, freshly leaving Jackson and preparing for the mission ahead.

“You talk to me like im not the one who was literally raised out here. If anything you should be following my lead.” y/n responded.

Ellie rolled her eyes and scoffed. “That doesn’t make you better. Just means more people were around to save your ass.”

“Then why am I here?”

“To make my life miserable apparently.”

Y/n sighed as her tongue poked the inside of her cheek. She seemed to almost be trying to contain herself, a desperate look of wanted to punch the girl on the horse next to her lingered on her face.

“Literally the only reason im on this run with you Ellie is because i am just as capable as you. So please, shut the fuck up and leave me be.” She retorted sourly, looking the opposite way from Ellie and into the trees. She didn’t want to deal with this now. The hollow, harmful words that they threw at each other.

Ellie turned her head the slightest, catching a glimpse pf her, almost slightly stunned at her response.

The two always argued, that was known, but it was never like that. The harshness and seriousness of her last words surprised Ellie, not being the usual sassy clap back she gave that Ellie could actually respond to. This time, y/n looked distant and out of it but Ellie decided to respect her wishes, looking back ahead and letting silence remain between the two.

The people that surrounded them always tried to recall why the two fueded, but no one ever could. It seemed like from the very first time they interacted, they just didn’t like each other. But, their “first” interaction according to those people wasnt truly their first interaction.

Y/n was brought into Jackson three years ago, scared and alone. Covered in blood and looking with eyes that seemed to shoot daggers at everyone. A team of people had come across her, running from three runners in a torn down office building. Once settled, she had been given a house next to Joels, being one of the smaller ones considering she was just one person.

For the first few days, y/n didn’t leave her house, taking advantage of the fact she hadn’t been assigned with a job yet and avoiding interaction with the public. The majority of the town still hadn’t even seen her since she first came in, rumors beginning to spread about who she was. Some said she had a face covered in scared skin, others said she was tiny and frail but her hands were stained a deep red with blood.

Ellie being the way she was, desperately wanted to know who she really was. She wanted to see this girl and figure out whether the monstrosities people whispered about her.

Y/n was awoken one morning by three heavy knocks on her door. She seriously considered ignoring them, groaning into her pillow as she stood up.

Could be important. She told herself. When she swung the door open, the girl that stood before her was unfamiliar. Unlike most people, she looked closer to her own age, being 17 at the time. The wide smile on her face faltered and her eyes widened when her eyes met with y/ns. Her hands flew up to the hairs sticking out of her bun and tried to smooth them back as much as possible.

“Um… Hello?” Y/n quipped, breaking the girl from whatever trance she was stuck in, her cheeks reddening and eyes rushing the the ground.

“Oh- Uh- Hi! Im Ellie. Your neighbor.” She began, pointing at her own home in the distance. Y/n nodded and gave her an acknowledging smirk.

“Im y/n,” She introduced, leaning against the door with her hand still on the handle. “Is there anything i can help you with?” She asked when Ellie returned to silence again.

“N-No not eaxctly. In all honesty i came by out of curiosity. Wanted to see if you were really like some murderous crazy person.” She laughed slightly, a strange pitting feeling in her stomach.

Y/ns eyebrows knitted together and her demeanor changed as she shifted on her legs.

“Why? Because im from the outside? So seems like since Im not from some fuck ass FEDRA base or some community im automatically a wild animal that kills people for fun?” She begins, clearly offended by Ellies comment.

Ellies eyes opened worriedly. “No no no. I didn’t mean it like that! I just meant that thats what people have been sort of saying about you since no ones really seen you. Kinda cant blame them-”

“For titling me as some savage just because I was born outside their little bubble?”

“Im just saying you haven’t really given them much to work on. And its not like your the sweetest either.” She said, mumbling the last bit.

Y/n scoffed, stepping back into the house but leaving the door open, her hand still on the door knob. “You come to my house, call me a murderous crazy person, then try to justify it?”

“I wasn’t calling you that. I- I just meant i get why youve stayed home but you really havent gone out and last time people saw you was when you first came in and-“ Ellie hissed and raised her eyebrows, suggesting severity, “that wasn’t exactly the kindest sight.” She finished rambling, realizing it didn’t help in the slightest when her eyes fell on y/n.

“Ok you know what, fuck you.” y/n said, slamming the door shut and leaving Ellie wide eyed and red.

How could i have fucked that up so badly. Ellie asked herself frozen in guilt and embarrassment.

After that, Ellie couldn’t bare being around her and not feeling that turmoiling feeling in her gut. She automatically counteracted it with harsh comments and rudeness. Even when a few days later, y/n attempted to apologize, Ellie dismissing her with a rude comment and sparking another fight that solidified their dislike.

But after a year or two and one drunken evening where their bickering turned into borderline foreplay, the dynamic changed. The majority of times, their stabs at each other seemed to be laced with an igniting feeling and fiery looks at each other. People close to them had seemed to start noticing this shift, whether it was the devilish smirks on Ellies face or the way y/n seemed to gravitate closer and closer to her.

So now, when y/n had barely even looked Ellie in the eye and dryly responded to every comment thrown at her by the girl as the walked down the foreign towns roads, the map in Ellies hand and a knife in y/ns, Ellie couldnt help but feel a growing sense of concern.

Did someone do something to her? She wondered, anger stacking up at this imaginary person just at the thought of it

“The pharmacy should be up ahead. Joel gave me a side note to check back room closest and storage rooms. Most should be locked so they’ll probably have shit inside.” Ellie began, scanning her surroundings.

“If the rooms are locked how are we getting in?” Y/n asked.

“Lucky for us, i have a lock pick and 6 hours worth of learning from Tommy.” She says with a smirk. Y/n simply nods and keeps walking with precaution.

“Whats up with you?” Ellie finally voices, her tome coming out harsher than she’d meant it to.

“Nothing. I thought we weren’t fucking around so thats what im doing. Not fucking around.” She shot back. Ellie sighed and rolled her eyes.

“God you’re dramatic.” She mumbled under her breath.

Y/n scoffed a sarcastic laugh, suggesting her comment to be absurd, but she didn’t respond.

Suddenly, thunder boomed from the gray clouds above, the scent of rain invading their senses with the gust of wind that hit them.

“Shit.” Ellie hissed beneath her breath. “We should get to the pharmacy soon. Seems like it gonna be a bad one.” She finished, referencing to the harsh wind that rocked the trees and over grown vines around them, the sky darkening above them.

“We should pick up the pace.” Y/n suggested as she began jogging and Ellie trailed behind her.

As the two felt patters of rain fall on their shoulders, the jog became a run as the wind picked up.

“There!” Ellie yelled, pointing ahead of them to their left. As the two approached, they saw the busted out windows, the glass covering the ground around it.

They jumped through the glassless windows and unto the store. The two breathed heavily when they reached somewhat safety.

The pharmacy looked completely ran through, shelves thrown all over the ground and trash everywhere.

“He was right! Come back here Ellie.” Y/n yelled against the sound of the wind whistling. By this point, the weather had reached full storm level and the strength of the wind tunneled throughout the exposed pharmacy.

With the aggressive push of the wind on Ellies back, she ran to y/n.

“Fuck i don’t know how well i can do this while a fucking tornado is going on.” She yelled at y/n as she crouched before the door knob.

“Ill block you.” Y/n said as she stood behind Ellie, bringing her arms to lean on the door on each side of Ellie above her, y/n head near Ellies neck and the gusts of wind pushing y/ns front into Ellies back. How the fuck is this supposed to help me focus.

Ellie inserted the lock pick into the slot and began twisting and turning it, different clicks falling into place and the knob rattling.

Y/n couldn’t lie, but her apathetic mood almost slipped with Ellies proximity. As Ellies arms moved to undo the lock, her back muscles flexed against y/ns chest, the wind blowing her into Ellies neck, the scent of pinewood soap and the metallic sent of blood from the infected they’d taken down earlier.

“I got it!” Ellie beamed, shooting up to pull the door. The resistance of the wind made it particularly difficult to open, y/n grabbing onto the door through the little crack Ellie opened and helped her.

When it opened just enough, the two rushed in as Ellie gripped the door, letting it slam closed when they were in. The room was pitch black, the two utterly unaware of their surroundings.

Ellie fiddled with the knob and tried to open the door, her theory being proved when the door didn’t budge at her push.

“Guess were camping in here tonight.” She said as y/n clicked on the flash light. The two looked around and saw quite a few things they could bring back. Bulk packages of ibuprofen and other medications.

“Fuck yeah.” Ellie said, inspecting the items and making sure they weren’t broken open or contaminated.

y/n set down her bag and removed her sleeping bag from it, laying it on the ground.

“Think the horses will be ok?” Ellie asked, attempting to start conversation.

“Yeah they should be. I tied down the garage door pretty well.” She responded, grabbing amo and supplies out of the bag to clean and reload her gun.

Ellie sat down on the ground in the small spot that wasn’t covered by y/ns sleeping bag, her lip in between her teeth and eyes nervous, like she was resisting saying something.

Y/ns eyes flickered up from the gun to Ellies face. “What?” She asked.

“Why are you acting weird?” Ellie finally asked. “You’ve been super fucking offputish and like not talking.”

Y/n sighed and shook her head in almost disbelief. “I haven’t been acting weird Ellie. Were on a mission and im focusing on it like you said.” She repeated, making Ellie bite her cheek at the rising feeling of guilt . “And why do you even fucking care. You dont want me to be here and i dont want to be here. We dont have to pretend.”

“What do you mean i dont want you to be here?” Ellie asked accusatively.

“You’ve made it pretty obvious Ellie! Like for the past three years maybe!” Y/n said, putting down the gun and investing herself into the interaction.

“Why would you say that? I never said i dont want you here. Never.” Ellie retorted, putting a punctuating finger in the air.

“You practically do every day! You pick apart everything i do and make sure to insult me on it. I mean Jesus i cant breath around you without you telling me im doing something wrong!” Y/n began yelling, rising to her feet and towering above Ellie, her eyes going up all of y/ns body as they fell on her face.

Fuck. y/n thought. Her eyes. Her big, round, bright eyes looked up at her, her eyebrows knitted together and tongue cupping her teeth.

“You say that like you don’t do the same thing y/n! Dont act like im just some bully, this situation goes both ways!” She said, also coming up to her feet to match y/n.

“I do it because im not gonna let you just insult me and act like nothing happened! Im not going to let that slide Ellie so of course i argue back but thats because you start it!” Y/n said, punctuating her ‘you’ by aggressively poking Ellies chest, her wrist immediately being caught by the girls strong hand.

They’re eyes met one another, anger coating them. But, beneath, there was something else. Something almost animalistic.

“Stop fucking yelling at me.” Ellie said, her words bitter but tone almost pleading.

The closeness between the two finally seemed to settle in their minds. Y/n’s wrist still in Ellies hand, their fronts pressed together. Y/n could feel Ellies warm breath against her skin, igniting goosebumps all along her spine.

There was no way Ellie didn’t feel it too, she thought. There was no way that Ellie would let herself be in this position if she wasn’t feeling the same carnal compulsion as her. She wouldn’t be looking at her with the eyes she was.

“Make me.” y/n said, her actions turning to become beyond her own control.

A devilish smirk painted Ellies lips for mere seconds before she slammed herself into y/ns lips, the force so strong y/n back hit the wall behind her.

Their bodies flowed together violently, pushing each others hips back and forth against one another. The kiss was fueled with regressed anger and burning passion, tongues not waiting a second to collide.

Y/ns hands found themselves to grab onto the girls hair, nails scratching at her scalp as she hissed into y/ns mouth.

“You’re a bitch, you know that?” Ellie groaned into her mouth.

“You’re telling me?” Y/n responded, Ellies taking advantage and letting her lips trail down y/ns neck, latching onto her pulse point the second she felt ut and biting down, a breath of air harshly leaving y/ns lips as she felt Ellies thigh press against the place she wanted her most.

The lack of friction from layers of clothing made y/n whine as she tried to find some kind of it, grinding against Ellies leg as she made an attack on y/ns neck, leaving red marks in her trail that were sure to become purple within a few hours.

“Desperate aren’t ya?” Ellie litted.

“Fuck you.”

Ellie laughed, her teeth pressed cold against y/ns jaw. “Isn’t that what you’re trying to do?”

y/n rolled her eyes and pulled Ellies head back into a heated kiss, one Ellie cheekily smiled into. Her warm hands found themselves under y/ns shirt going up, dragging up y/ns shirt with it.

“This ok?” Ellie asked, y/ns frantic nods being her signal to fully separate and remove the shirt over y/ns head.

She looked down at y/n in awe, her tongue peaking out from between her lips and her cheeks reddening. “Fuck. i’ve been wanting this for so long.”

“Oh really?” Y/n responded as she brought her arma up to rest of Ellies shoulder, her own hands on y/ns hips, holding the two of their pelvises pressed together.

“Yeah, really. From the time you opened your door front door and yelled at me.” Y/n laughed at that.

“God you’re so pathetic.” She laughed as Ellies arms wrapped around her upper body and unclipped y/ns bra, slowly pulling the straps down her arms.

“Watch yourself. Just cause im gonna fuck you does it mean im gonna be nice.” Ellie said into her ear, shots of electricity flying down y/ns back.

Before y/n could say anything in return, her head flew back against the wall as she felt Ellies lips wrap around her nipple and her hands knead the other. Her tongue worked against it and she rolled her thigh up and down, an extended groan leaving y/ns lips.

She switched positions, paying attention to the other nipple and reciprocating her same movements,

Y/ns hand knotted itself in Ellies auburn hair as her lips seared her chest.

Ellies lips kissed up her breast, her neck and her jaw and fell into y/ns mouth, her hand crawling down and being met with the barrier of y/ns jeans.

“Can i get these off of you baby?” She asked into y/n’s mouth, her words rushed and desperate.

Y/ns hands came to the button of her pants and undid them, lowering them slightly and undoing the zipper. Ellies didn’t wait a second before dipping into the pants, the pads of her fingers pressing into y/n’s aching clit.

Y/n let out a lengthy moan as Ellie drew tight circles, her slick pooling in her panties. She mewled desperately, her hips grinding against Ellies hand.

“Shit- Please Ellie. More.” Y/n groaned, her head falling into the crook between Ellies shoulder and neck.

Ellie smiled smugly, pressing kisses into her exposed shoulders as she pushed aside y/ns underwear. “Whatever you want, pretty.” Ellie said, her middle finger running through her wetness, separating her folds and making a mess of her.

Ellie cursed under her breath at the feeling of y/n clenching around nothing, practically begging for her fingers.

Appeasing her wishes, Ellie sunk two fingers into her slowly, hooking her fingers to bottom out into the sweet spot that caused y/n to moan out into Ellies neck.

Gently, Ellie pulled put her fingers and pushed them back in, her palm hitting y/ns clit in the movement. She Ellie repeated her movements over and over, her free hand coming down from y/n’s waist and to the back of one of her thighs, lifting it from the ground and up to Ellies waist, giving her better access to hit y/n as deep as possible.

Y/n’s moans and pants made the hairs on Ellies neck stand. She couldn’t believe this. She thought shed utterly blown her chances from the second y/n first raised her voice at her, standing on her porch. Now, she was knuckle deep in her and cradling her body against the wall.

“Fuck Ellie don’t stop. Im close-” Y/n groaned.

Impossibly, Ellies fingers started to slam into her faster, the vibrations shooting straight to y/n’s clit and the tips of her finger repeatedly plunged against the spot that made y/n moan out in pleasure. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

Y/n legs began to shake, Ellie keeping her pressed against the wall and holding her up with her leg and hand. Ellie could feel y/n’s insides spasming around her fingers, her orgasm close and brimming.

“C’mon baby. I know you’re there.” She mumbled into her ear.

Y/n’s eyes squeezed tightly and her mouth flew open silently, her hand flying to Ellies wrist as a way of stabilization as her orgasm flushed over her like a tsunami. Wetness rolled down Ellies fingers, Y/n’s pants and underwear made a complete mess.

Once y/n’s breathing settled, Ellie removed her fingers from her and brought them to her own lips.

“Fuck. You taste good.” She whispered, kissing up her neck and into her lips.

She settles y/n’s leg down but still held onto her waist, her knees bucking the second she put weight on them, making them both laugh.

“I should change into the other pants.” y/n quipped, separating from the kiss.

“Yeah you should..” Ellie said almost dismissively as she pulled y/n down to lay on the sleeping bag, flipping over and placing herself on top.

“Whenever im done with you i mean.”

a/n: heyy babes! my bad i said i was gna post this last night but i got a little too high and fell asleep at like 5pm and forgot to post it 😭😭 also i got carried away with added backstory and setting so i hope you enjoy my beauts. Also wanted to giv a big thank u for the positive feed back on Tired of You!! part two is gna be out on sunday for any of you guys reading this that are waiting for that too!!

#ˋ°•*⁀➷ ꜱᴏꜰɪ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇꜱ #the last of us #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams smut #ellie williams angst #ellie williams fluff #the last of us smut #the last of us part 2 #abby anderson #joel miller #dine tlou #tlou #lgbtq #ellie tlou

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beatrixstonehill2 · 5 months

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"Oh fuck, only three months into Backbreaker Challenge and I cannot believe I'm doing this..... My family knows I'm a streamer and I've been looking to increase my audience. So they convinced me to do this. I'm so screwed, aren't I? It sounded innocent, kind of fun. Plus, definitely like a good way to increase my popularity. I just have to take a two year supply of this ultra potent breast growth drug from South Korea, like the kind they give to idols and girl groups over there..... Grow a big, fat pair of titties for my fans and have my family encourage me along the way? Win-win.

Then I made the mistake of actually looking up the challenge. Soooo apparently all those popstars just take a tiny dose over years to maintain steady growth up to like a MM-Cup at the height of their career. If you take the pills like this, the way they were tested on girls in a bunch of clinical trials.... well, you end up totally immobilized by your boobs. Like, I'm just a streamer who plays games so if I'm stuck in bed with a massive pair of boobs I can't even lift, fine. It's whatever. But part of this challenge is trying to remain active, film yourself trying to exercise, dance, go to the gym, all while growing these massive boobs that weigh over 100lbs and not resign yourself to being bedbound. Look at how huge mine are! I was only a B-Cup three months ago. These things are like udders already, soooo heavy and starting to lactate, even....

How am I going to stay mobile for two years??? Well, apparently that's all part of the challenge. I commented on some vids and they recommended I learn to game and stream using eye-based software in case my poor back gives out, because apparently it's very possible I might wind up doing exactly as the challenge says. I could break my back! Wind up paralyzed.... It's happened to more than a few girls who did this. Then I'd be stuck in bed, my parents taking care of me. I wouldn't be able to feel anything..... I'd be surrounded by these gigantic breasts, but I wouldn't feel a single inch of them, or my own pussy..... I could only watch if somebody had their way with my sexy body. Look them in the eyes as they go to town, like a kid at a playground, fucking my giant boobs, my pussy, using me however they like. They could be as rough as they want, since I couldn't feel any of it anyway...... Actually, is it weird that I think it sounds kinda fun? Maybe I should take a little extra and stress out my poor back faster. Could you imagine watching me stream naked, propped up by my parents, posed like a doll, my mammoth tits bulging out in every direction all around me, weighing 200lbs each..... I chat with you guys and play just using my eyes, totally helpless. Maybe my biggest donors could even come visit me and have their way with my poor, helpless body as I play..... does that sound fun?"

#breast expansion #be #enormous breasts #immobility kink #extreme kink #dark kinks

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auroracalisto · 11 months

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i was made for lovin' you

fem!plus size!reader, 2.4k words summary: the reader loves benedict bridgerton. when he dances the night away with her dear sister, she wonders if her love is perhaps... unrequited. a/n: my initial note for this fic was: i was the chubby unpopular insecure girl in school. i'm still the chubby girl. and i need fluff today. so that's what's gonna happen. i initially started writing this... last year. it's been over six months ago since i've touched this. the title is totally from the kiss song. tw: bodily description, vague description of anxiety, momentary insecurity, but it's brief!!

Curves adorned your body in a way that remained otherwise unknown to so many others. Thick thighs hid beneath layers of clothing. Your stomach pressed against the fabric of your top, threatening to squeeze the very essence of life out of you. But you stood there, discomfort climbing its way up your spine, threatening to call you out for being a fraud. You lived in peril, awaiting the blossoming of the flower of insecurity and fear.

No gentleman would ever look your way, even with the most expensive of clothing. Liquid gold could be dripping from your fingertips, and not one of the men in the 'ton would give you the time of day.

At least, that is what you told yourself. That is what you had believed since the time you could register the fact that you were the thicker girl.

And it's not that you hated your body. No, that was far from the truth. You had come to love yourself in your own way, trying your best to live with what the world had given you. But you knew men, and you knew the gentlemen of the 'ton. You were treated differently, just because of your size.

You were different.

But he never treated you as if there was something wrong with you. No, Benedict Bridgerton was your dearest friend, but you couldn't help but feel as if he never truly cared for you in the way that you cared for him.

The way that you loved him.

You had yet to properly talk to him, knowing his elder brother hosted the ball of the evening. It wouldn't surprise you if Benedict was busy entertaining other gentlemen—entertaining your sister, perhaps.

The clothing you wore that night was flattering, for the most part. You couldn't deny that. Your mother had chosen well for the ball, keeping your mind at bay. She had impeccable taste, regardless of the crude comments that so often left her rouge lips. But despite the clothing, despite the restricting fabric, you couldn't help but watch and feel less than others around you.

Especially when you knew the man you favored was out there, fawning over your sister (not even liquid gold would work in her favor—she merely needed to raise a finger, and men would fall to her feet, begging for a chance to be hers).

The beautiful women who danced passed you, hand in hand with a suitor or with a dear gentleman. Their dance cards were nearly filled at this point. The stunning men wore beautifully tailored suits, sending smiles and small nods to those they spoke with. Well-rounded pencils would need to be sharpened before too long.

You stuck out like a sore thumb in the corner of the ballroom, drawing imaginary attention right to your very soul.

Your dance card rested in the palm of your hand, not a single gentleman's name residing on it. Like many balls before, suitors avoided you—or perhaps, you avoided them. Staying in your safety corner seemed to be the best bet, but you knew it would catch up to you (eventually).

There wasn’t a possibility for a suitor to come to you, unless he wanted whispers to be spread. You were an outcast.

You made yourself an outcast. But perhaps our worst enemy came from our very own minds, taunting us and keeping those we love far, far away.

Had you been your elegant sister, dancing the night away with the handsome Bridgerton boy amongst many other men, maybe you would have felt more comfortable.

Her card was completely filled, and now, she milled around with her friends, looking for a gentleman to speak with. The season wouldn't last forever.

And you knew it.

The season would be over in a heartbeat, and you would be left without a single name on your dance card.

How incredibly frustrating. You knew you were beautiful. You knew you had a grand personality, fit for that of a gentleman. You were smart and intelligent and you knew how to do so many things.

But standing here, you felt as if your clothing was choking you to the point of no return. It didn't matter that you could read a book in a day, or recite your favorite poetry. It didn't matter that you learned to cook from your favorite maid, or that you could write a piece of prose so beautifully it brought tears to your delicate sister's eyes.

Warmth flooded throughout your body. You hesitantly pulled up the fabric of your skirts and made your way to the crowd, finding the cool night in an instant. The chill of the breeze cooled you down the best it could, but it could only do so much for the roaring fire in your mind.

Your mother would surely have yet another snide comment about the fact that she did all this work just for you to avoid the crowd. Your father would listen silently, but you knew he agreed. He always did.

Your sister would yet again set on a suitor, her beauty and gracefulness the only blessing upon your family. She would be set for life while you die a lowly spinster.

Maybe she would bless you with a quaint cottage of your own. She'd be able to marry the richest man in the 'ton, if she was so pleased to say yes.

You walked closer to the fountain that sat in the middle of the courtyard, eyes closing as you came to a stop. The chatter and music from the manor wafted in the air, and the smell of freshly trimmed grass plagued your nose. Goosebumps appeared on your skin as the air around you only seemed to get cooler. Perhaps outside wasn't your best decision, but anything was better than the scrutiny of roaming eyes.

Solitude found you best, creativity striking you when you were all alone—most of the time. Today, it only brought you a fraction of the comfort you sought.

Despite your indiscretion, you weren't alone for very long.

"Lady L/n?" a voice came from behind you.

Your eyes shot open and you looked over your shoulder.

Benedict Bridgerton.

He had danced with your sister nearly three dances ago—you hadn't seen him since then.

He sent you a soft smile, relaxing when he saw you.

"May I ask what you're doing out here all alone?"

"I could ask you the same thing," you said. "Sir Bridgerton."

His smile only grew.

The two of you had known each other far longer than you would ever admit, and every time you saw him reminded you of why you fell for him to begin with. But he belonged with someone else—he would be good for them, and marrying into a family of money would secure the safety of the woman's future and her family's future.

You would take what you could get, even if it meant waiting until your father made you a match… if even he could manage such a feat. He quite hated the idea of society. It was your mother who pushed him into the world, making him do good by the ‘ton and his family name.

Benedict deserved someone good—someone who would boost his status in society, and always be there to love and care for him.

Many weren't so lucky with their marriages (your mother and father, for example).

"That's no way to talk to a gentleman, now is it? Whatever would your dear mother say if she were to find out how you speak to me?" he asked, feigning offense as he placed a hand over his chest.

"Trust me," you said, turning to face him with a soft smile. "I promise she will find little problem with it when she knows you are on Katherine's card."

"Hm," he tilted his head as he watched you. "And who have you danced with, Lady Y/n? I have yet to see you out on the dance floor tonight, and now I find you all alone. It feels as if autumn is already upon us. Surely you don't want to catch a cold as well?"

"I have danced with no one," you said, looking back at the fountain. "And you surely shouldn't be here with me, alone. Quite a scandal you'd create for your sister to cover up."

"Is that not why she is the Duchess? So I can create whatever scandal I dream of?"

You could practically hear the smug smile on his face, but you didn't turn to face him. Your arms hesitantly wrapped around your torso as you continued to stare at the flowing water.

"Y/n?" he softly spoke, coming to stand beside you. "Are you alright?"

His hand touched your cold arm and you immediately pulled away.

"Should you not be back inside with Katherine?" you asked. "It will be quite a scandal if you were to be out here with me."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "What is with you and scandals? Nothing of the sort will happen. I'd much rather spend the rest of the evening with you."

You frowned. "If you must, perhaps we should return inside. You should sign my dance card to keep my mother from asking questions."

"I would do so, gladly, Y/n, but I did not think you wanted me to do so," he said, eyebrows furrowed as he spoke.

"Why wouldn't I want you to?" you began, averting your gaze. "You know me better than I know myself."

He tilted his head curiously. "I do believe there are things I've yet to acquire," he said, gently taking your hand as he spoke. This time, you didn't pull away. "Whatever is the matter?"

"You are a dear friend, Benedict," you said. "I would never want to do something to put our friendship in jeopardy."

"Perhaps you will if you continue alluding me so. I asked you a question, my Lady."

A beat passes, the music coming from inside becoming light and jovial for the newest dance. Your sister was already dancing with another, enjoying herself and smiling all the while. Not that you could see.

"Y/n, please," he said, voice barely above a whisper—defeated, one could safely say.

"I care for you," you said. "If—if my sister is what you want, if she will make you happy, then by all means, you have my blessing."

He blinked slowly at you, lips parting to speak, but you speak first.

"I understand why you care for her so. She is beautiful, and she will be an excellent wife. She is so unlike me. She... she will make you so unbelievably happy, Benedict."

"Wait."

His fingers laced with your gloved hand as he gently pressed his other to the side of your face, making you look at him.

"Where is this coming from?" he asked, allowing his hand to drop. "Who said... who said I was interested in her?"

"No one. Nothing needed to be said for me to assume. Did I assume correctly, Lord Bridgerton?"

He chuckled softly, tilting his head as he watched you. "Not at all, my dear," he said. "You are so far from the truth that it is quite... comical."

"Comical?" you blurted, looking up at him in disbelief.

"Your sister was... helping me. I had planned to ask you in such a grand manner that I needed some assistance. Perhaps her planning skills would be far superior to mine when it comes to an event such as... well..."

"An event? What—what have you been planning, Benedict?"

His eyes softened. Were you blind? Or had he been so secretive with his feelings for you that you remained oblivious to the fact that he loved you more than life itself?

"Benedict, please," you said. "We do not have all night. They will notice we have left the party, soon enough."

"I wanted to know what would be best to ask you," he said.

"Ask me what?"

"To marry me, Y/n."

Time stood still. Big eyes stared up at him in disbelief, lips parted as you swam in an ocean of words, but nothing broke the surface. Was he serious?

"Benedict—"

"—will you marry me, Y/n?"

"I—"

"—I had planned on asking you soon, with flowers and a ring, and perhaps a grand occasion so the gentlemen knew you were taken, but—"

"—Benedict..."

He looked down at you, eyebrows furrowed. You were going to say no. He could see it in your eyes.

"You want to marry me?" you asked, hand holding onto his. "You... do you... I care for you, deeply, Benedict."

"And I, you, Y/n."

You searched his eyes for a sign—for an answer, perhaps. You had dreamed of this night for so long, and here it was, front and center. He cared for you. He wanted to marry you.

"I will," you said.

He released a breath, suddenly pulling you into his arms. You said you would. Yes. The answer was yes. Benedict would marry his best friend.

Benedict fought the urge to kiss you, despite knowing you would allow him.

“Let us return,” he softly said. “Perhaps you should inform your mother of your latest rendezvous.”

Your eyes widened a bit.

“Of course, I will be with you. Wouldn’t she enjoy seeing that?”

Your lips spread into a soft smile. “Yes. She would.”

Benedict took your hand and led you back to the porch. No one else stood outside.

“I will return first,” he softly said. “I will find your sister, and then, I will come and find you.”

“Oh, you do not want a scandal, dear Benedict?” you asked, a grin forming.

His eyes hardened as he looked back at you. “Would you like a scandal, Lady Y/n?” His voice betrayed the look he gave you, and instantly, his hard look dissolved into a smile. “Allow me to return. We will have enough gossip to go around once the news has broke in the ‘ton.” He took your hand again and pressed a kiss to your gloved knuckles. “Until we meet again.”

“I will see you inside,” you said, smiling all the while.

Benedict left you, and you waited merely a few minutes before you returned. You remained blissfully ignored, and for once, you appreciated the fact. You found your mother in an instant, and only when Benedict found you again did you tell her the news.

#benedict #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #chubby reader #fem!reader #x reader #reader insert #y/n #use of y/n #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton fanfiction

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theminecraftbee · 3 months

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I have wondered! Why is Joe’s hair green?

YAY I GET TO EXPLAIN! so near the end of season 7 bdubs had this store called snips where he did haircuts for the hermits, almost universally silly ones. amongst those were “somehow a haircut gave ren dog ears as an in-universe excuse to canonize that”, the double braid haircut that keralis still has, impulse getting pink hair to match the color his base was at the time, and, notably, joe ending up with chroma green hair. which, okay, the chroma-key green is a Thing with joe hills in general, which I won’t get into entirely, just know that’s the case.

since that was near the end of season seven, it made sense for joe to carry it forward to season eight, where he ended up looking like a scene kid the whole time. incidentally, this is ALSO where a lot of current joe hills fanon started to really solidify (especially given just HOW involved in big moon he was), which kept the very lime green aesthetic for him for a while.

(a lot of the OTHER common joe hills fanon solidified because of sexyman. which makes me sit here and go “god I have 11k followers at this point AND ran sexyman. how much of that fanon is my fault.” but I digress.)

when season 9 started, joe redid parts of his skin to give himself the long hair and facial hair he had irl at the time, and then the king ren plot gave him glasses for his skin, which he also kept to reflect irl. notably, irl he doesn’t have a green undercut, so his hair on his skin became brown again. however at that point the neon greens and bright colors and beads and stuff were all VERY ESTABLISHED joe fanon (plus he’s the kind of guy who actively owns neon green fishnet gloves irl it’s not absurd as a trait to have stuck around), so a lot of artists kept it around by giving him green highlights!

and THAT is how joe ended up having green hair in so much art despite that not having been a thing for like two years now!

#answered

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lilacsinjuly · 6 months

Text

ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ KINKTOBER 2023 ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

➸ DAY TEN: THE GAME.

ﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*

summary: Eren hate everything about you - from your attitude to your friends and your clothes, he hates you. You make other's lives miserable, and he's determined to put you in your place with an innocent game which results in you having to do whatever he wants for the rest of the night.

CW: fem reader, smut, halloween party, costumes, drinking, beer pong, reader is a bitch like you are seriously unlikeable, like she's a bully & your typical mean girl, masturbation, men being men but only for a sec, reader has to do whatever Eren wants yet the sexual stuff is consensual, spanking, bondage, degrading, eren steals ur thong, public sex, semi-public sex, praise, blowjob, throat-fucking, slapping, choking, biting, humping/shoe-fucking, eren calls you 'princess', no use of y/n.

a/n: so we're a good while into november and i'm just posting my last kinktober post - oops. i've been so busy plus i wanted to wait cus idk if it's disrespectful to the dead to post smut about them (spoiler warning) like right after they died. anyway, i read a book or another fanfic w a similiar plot ages ago and it's been stuck in my head since but i can't rememeber what it's called lol.

word count: 13.7k - if you read this, ilysm.

likes, comments and reposts are deeply appreciated! <3 enjoy.

masterlist.

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Eren couldn’t stand you. He couldn’t stand the way you thought so highly of yourself or how you’d walk around with your head high and a disgusted look on your face when you saw someone like him. He couldn’t stand people you surround yourself with or how you managed to look so fucking good in every outfit you put on.

He could't stand the raging urge he felt to fuck the attitude right out off you.

On the other hand, you found yourself not looking twice in his direction unless it was to make a snide comment to your friends followed by a mocking laugh before you went on with your day not thinking about him for another second.

Eren, however, would think about that comment for the rest of the day. It didn't upset him, he was by no means offended by your comment. It just shocked him to an immeasurable amount that you were still this much of an impudent bitch in college. Surely you would have managed to grow up a bit after high school, right?

No. Not a single part of you had managed to catch a glimpse of the real world past the curtains of your life as a spoiled, popular, hot girl who thought there was nothing out there more important than money and looks.

In all fairness, both of those things had gotten you everything you had ever wanted, yet in effect, it ruined the lives of the people around you as you dragged them down to build yourself up.

That's why he came to this party, knowing fully well that you would be here. Tonight, he was determined to humble you - make you feel every fraction of hurt and shame you had forced onto other's your entire life.

Eren wasn't exactly popular, which is why he was shocked to have been invited to this party in the first place. He had his small group of friends and he was content with that. Mikasa and Armin were also skeptical of coming, confused as to why Eren was so persistent after he had spent all of his years in high school and the time you had spent together in college slandering your name and every other popular mother fucker - all of them were exactly like you, and all of them were at this party.

He had a slight feeling that it was due to Jean, the host of the party, and his blatant crush on Mikasa - yet she went wherever Eren went and they could always count on Armin to tag along as well, even if it took a lot of persuasion from Eren. Armin was confused why Eren was so persistent on coming, yet he let it go once Eren got defensive when he asked.

It was a halloween party, meaning there were all sorts of costumes to be seen from every corner. Of course, you were all adults now, so instead of anything actually scary there were mini-skirts and shirtless guys wherever his eyes fell. Eren didn’t want to dress up - in fact, he had forgotten completely as he was so focused on coming up with a plan that would land you right where he wanted you, therefore, he opted for a tight black shirt and some baggy pants.

Once his eyes caught yours, he scoffed. You were dressed entirely in black. A black corset decorated with beautiful patterns, a small black skirt (that could have passed as a belt but that didn't seem to bother you), black fishnets and boots that reached up past your knees. Of course, to finish the look, there was a pair of angel wings and a halo that adorned your head. A dark angel, not an uncommon look but considering you were the only one wearing it, it could have passed as that. The reason he had scoffed at the sight of you was because he assumed you must have threatened anyone going for the same look as you in order to assure you were different to everyone else - he couldn't think of you any more highly than that.

He mentally scolded himself for the way his eyes were dragging themselves all over the parts of your body that your costume didn’t cover - and there was a lot of it on display. Your costume left hardly anything to the imagination.

Eren could feel himself hardening in his pants just from the sight of you and he cursed himself internally for it. Why here and why now? Usually, just the thought of you would be enough to rile him up enough for him to get hard but tonight he swore he wouldn’t let his eyes or mind wander.

Quickly, he excused himself, leaving behind a confused Mikasa and Armin. The pair had exchanged glances since they had arrived due to Eren’s strange behaviour - but they chose not to bring it up.

The house was massive, and there were plenty of bathrooms, so nobody should mind if he occupied this one in particular for just long enough to take care of his problem.

His back hit the wall and he groaned in both pleasure and frustration once his hand reached to free his aching dick. He held his shirt up with his teeth and watched as his hand moved up and down his hardened cock.

His breath hitched when his thumb ran across the tip and he threw his head back and screwed his eyes shut in order to help prevent any more noises from leaving his throat.

Eren’s mind wandered to the sight of your thighs clad in those black fishnets and the way your skirt was so short he was certain that if you bent down just a little, he’d be able to take a peek at your ass from underneath. He wanted nothing more than to tear those angel wings right off you whilst whispering in your ear from behind about how much of a dirty slut you were and how there was no place in heaven for such a dirty thing like you all whilst fucking into you relentlessly to the point where you were too fucked-dumb to argue back.

The grip he had on his dick tightened and he shuddered at the feeling, his pace increasing as the sound of him fisting his cock rang throughout the bathroom. He was panting and groaning, unable to hold himself back for much longer.

What sent him over the edge, was the thought of how well you’d take him because he knew that underneath all the layers of this vain and hateful version of yourself was a slut who was begging to get degraded and humiliated - even if you didn’t know it yet. He envisioned how tightly your cunt would squeeze him as though it was so desperate for his cock and how you’d whine and plead him to stop like a brat but you’d never use your safe word because at the end of the day, you needed him to fill you up. He pictured the cute face you’d make as you came all around his cock, screaming his name and dragging your nails down his back.

Eren wasn’t able to control himself for much longer before let out a strained groan and shot hot ropes of cum over his hand all whilst his grip on his cock never slowed or stopped for a second.

He had spent many nights in this situation - fisting his cock until he was all out of orgasms whilst picturing all the different positions he’d put you in and all the types of punishments you’d have to endure just to get a taste of his dick.

Tonight. He told himself. Tonight he will have all of that - he’ll have you begging for all of it.

Quickly, he cleaned himself up and opened the door, surprised to only find one person waiting who could barely hold himself up which saved him the embarrassment of having to walk out to find a crowd of people waiting.

He rejoined Mikasa and Armin, and began to wait for the perfect moment to put his plan in action.

You, however, were sitting in the living room on the armrest of one of the chairs with your other stuck up, self-obsessed friends, chatting shit about every person under the sun whilst simultaneously insulting each other as subtly as possible.

You were sitting by Hitch, leaning against her whilst absentmindedly playing with a strand of her hair as she leaned back and sipped on her drink watching as the people around her tore each other and everyone else to bits.

Hitch had been your one and only true friend - the only one you could securely say you trusted with anything and the only person you would let see through your bitchy facade and the wall of hidden insecurities lying within. The only thing allowing you to act so cruel and heartless towards others was that very wall, the one that prevented people from getting close to you but also letting anything out that may subject you to the same remarks you throw around so casually. In the world of social status, it was kill or be killed - but in more of a metaphorical manner.

Occasionally, you would chime into the slaughter of other people’s names and reputations, adding your own (exaggerated) experiences and opinions of other people’s lives.

You stopped paying as much attention when the guys started talking disgustingly about which girls they were planning on fucking tonight - you simply turned to hitch and rolled your eyes to which she laughed.

“How about her over there?” one of the guys asked, pointing in the direction of a brunette standing awkwardly on her own as she tried to drink her nerves away. It was quite clear she was listening in on the conversation, whether that was involuntarily or on purpose, and the very mention of her caused her to quickly glance at your group before turning her face away - burning a bright red colour whilst looking for a way to escape, yet she was unsuccessful and ended up staying put.

Luckily for her, you gave her her own way of escape.

“Her? No, she’s such a slut.” You said without hesitation because it was what you did. You had walked in on her making out with another guy in the bathroom a few months ago and of course you had to tell everybody about it. “I mean, she can’t keep it in her pants long enough to wait until she’s not in public to fuck her weird ass boyfriend.”

The people around you snickered and the girl looked like she was on the verge of tears. You were being purposefully loud, making extra sure that she could hear you and not feeling an ounce of guilt.

“I mean, you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” One of the girls sat across from you said.

You were used to other girls trying to throw passive aggressive comments in your direction, yet it would always end with them knocked out cold or with a broken nose so not many tried anymore - so her blatant rudeness threw you off a bit however you tried to keep your composure. You gave her a tight lipped smile and she stared at you with challenging eyes.

“Sorry, who are you?” you asked, clear malice sewn into your voice.

She laughed mockingly before replying. “Just someone who doesn’t sleep with every guy who gives her the time of day.”

Squeezing your empty cup, you scoffed and got up from your seat, clearly vexed by the comment made yet not quite drunk enough to start a fight just yet.

What the fuck does she know? People thought of you as a self-obsessed whore, but in reality, only one of those things were true. You had only slept with two other guys, one being your long-term boyfriend and the other being a rebound after your break-up.

As you walked, Hitch called out to you, asking you where you were going and as you turned around to shout back, Eren could feel the excitement growing inside of him at the opportunity that had presented itself - the one he had been waiting for and imagining since the day he first saw you.

“I’m gonna grab another drink.” You shouted back to her over the music, she could barely hear you, but she nodded anyway.

Eren made his way to the path that you were taking and accidentally bumped into you.

Spinning around, you glared at him with nothing but anger and disgust. “Watch where you’re going, freak.”

Not wanting to waste anymore time, you attempted to walk off from him and make your way to the kitchen. Yet, Eren had other plans.

Swiftly, he grabbed your arm. His hold wasn’t painful, yet it was firm enough that you couldn’t escape it.

He wanted to laugh at the look on your face.

It was one that indicated that nobody like him, nobody beneath you, had ever stood up to you before. Nobody like him had grabbed you before. Your eyes were wide, and if he looked hard enough, he swore he would have been able to see steam coming out from your ears, yet his hold didn’t falter for a second.

“What the fuck are you doing, perv? How fucking dare you-”

“I want you to apologise.” He started, and that look of amazement on your face only seemed to grow. For the first time in your life, you were utterly speechless.

“What?”

“It wasn’t my fault you bumped into me. You were the one who wasn’t watching where you were going.” His grip around you tightened slightly, causing your face to scrunch up before your lips parted in shock. “Therefore, I want you to apologise.”

Eren’s voice was low and calm, there wasn’t a hint of any pent up frustration hidden anywhere within it. In fact, he sounded like he didn’t know who you were, and to you, it looked like it as well.

After snapping out of your stupor, you let out a harsh laugh at his demand and jolted out of his hold, taking a few steps back. “You want me to apologise? Over my dead body. Who the fuck do you think you are?”

You started to recognise him from one of your classes but you refused to portray any sort of recognition in your voice or features, not wanting to inflate his ego any higher or make him feel any more special than he already does just from talking to you. Evan? Ernie?

“Someone who’s not gonna fucking bow down to you and fall to his knees begging for an apology, princess.” Every syllable was laced with sarcasm and there was a hint of resentment in his tone - the latter not being something you weren’t used to, there were plenty of people who hated you in silence because of envy though it wasn’t typically something you heard from guys.

“Are you asking to get your ass kicked, or what? Just because you won't do anything I ask, doesn’t mean there aren’t plenty of guys who won't.”

Eren looked down at you with a lazy smirk plastered on his face, and if you weren’t so pissed off at him, you would have been able to recognise the traces of malicious intent hidden behind the green of his eyes - like he was planning something.

And, fuck, was he planning something.

“Fine then,” his head motioned to the table setup with various cups filled with beer. “One game of beer pong. Loser apologises.”

He wasn’t an idiot - he knew you’d refuse to waste your time on a useless apology that you didn’t want all that much and he was the same. There’s no way he’d actually play you just for an apology.

“As if. I don’t want to waste any more time on you than I already have.”

Before you could walk off, Eren grabbed your arm once again.

“Okay… then the loser has to do whatever the other person wants for the rest of the night.”

As he expected, you stopped resisting. It pissed you off immensely that Eren wasn’t the type to just do whatever you wanted, and right now you wanted nothing more than for him to understand his place.

You paused in consideration. If you won, there wouldn’t be much of a difference. You didn’t need Eren to be in your corner all night waiting for your command, you had plenty of people who wouldn’t say no when you asked them to do something. The only thing you’d gain is more pride. If you lost, however, you’d have to do whatever Eren says and that would damage your reputation far past fixable. It would be social suicide and you’d never recover from the humiliation. But, you wouldn’t lose, right?

"Fine then," You started, eyeing him up and down as your tongue ran across your teeth. "Loser has to do whatever the winner wants for the rest of the night. Deal?"

The two of you shook on it, you making an exaggerated gesture of wiping your hand on your outfit after your hands separated just to remind him of how low he stood beneath you. Eren only let out a curt laugh as he rolled his eyes.

"Can't wait to make you my little bitch, Aaron."

A slight pause before he replied, "It's Eren."

Narrowing his eyes at you in utter disbelief, he tried to calm himself down, reminding himself that there would be plenty of opportunities for him to humiliate you later.

"Yeah... okay." You gave him a look that signified how little you cared. He simply brushed it off.

The two of you began to head towards the table, two people in the process of finishing up a game before you snapped at them to leave. Eren, on the other hand, had been pulled to the side by Mikasa and Armin, the latter scolding him for what he was about to do.

“If you lose, you’ll never live it down. If you win, her fucking minions will be on you like-”

“I know what I’m doing, just leave it.”

The two watched Eren as he turned his back, heading for the table where you were waiting with an impatient scowl on your face despite the fact you had only been waiting for about two minutes.

Mikasa tried to call out to him, yet her efforts were futile given the loud music that still boomed throughout the halls. Giving up, the pair looked at each other with concern etched into their features before reluctantly joining the crowd that had formed around the two of you.

You made a snappy comment along the lines of ‘getting this over and done with’ before Eren gestured for you to go first. There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation as you threw the first shot, immediately getting it into one of the back cups and watched, unblinking, as Eren tossed the cup's contents down his throat like it was nothing.

This went on for a while - you'd successfully get the ball into one of his cups and then watch intently as he drank the beer inside. There was something about watching the way his throat would bop or how he’d wipe his mouth, his eyes on yours, and then tossing it to the side before taking a ball and throwing it effortlessly into one of your cups.

You hated how attractive he was and hated yourself for not being able to take your eyes off him.

Now, you had only three cups left, whereas he had four. You cursed yourself for missing the last time but it wasn’t your fault when you could feel his eyes burning holes through you whilst he shot you that same stupid smirk he kept giving you.

It wasn’t because you found it attractive, it just irritated you endlessly. There was no other logical explanation than irrational anger - that's what caused you to miss your last shot. So, as you watched him throw the ball and the way it danced around the rim of your cup before falling in, you promised yourself you wouldn’t miss these last shots.

The other times you had missed, he wasn’t smirking at you nor was he staring at you like he could see through your clothes - so it really was the only explanation.

As much as he liked to think he did, he didn’t make you nervous.

Taking the cup, you lifted it to your lips and swallowed back the beer, some of it dribbling down your chin and down your chest.

Eren refused to let himself react loudly, though, as he fought against how his hands were gripping onto the table and how his jaw was clenched.

The two of you continued the game, Eren missing once, leaving the two of you with only one cup left.

It was Eren’s turn, but it didn’t matter whether or not he got this last one in as long as you could get your next in.

Your fingers tapped anxiously and impatiently against the table as he stretched out his turn for longer than he should have been - like he was purposefully trying to ensure you missed your next throw.

Aiming the ball, he threw it perfectly in the cup causing your face to drop before immediately wiping the reaction off your face.

Running his tongue over his teeth, he looked up at you with a winning smile and a vicious look in his eyes. “Your turn, princess. You don’t wanna miss this one.” Eren drawled, standing back from the table and crossing his arms arrogantly. “Unless, you actually want to be my bitch for the rest of the night.”

The large group of people gathered around all of you snickered at his comment and waited for your response eagerly.

“In your dreams, perv.” You snarled at him, taking the ball and aiming it carefully at the last cup. Taking a deep breath in, you threw the ball and hoped for the best.

Watching as it hit the rim of the cup and bounced straight back off, your eyes widened and your face filled with horror. Your hands fell to your sides and you stared blankly at the cup in defeat.

“Just one more go, I-”

Reaching for the ball that had betrayed you and had begun to roll to your side of the table, you were cut off by Eren placing his hand over yours as it rested on top of the ball. Your head snapped up to meet his in annoyance. Once again, he was looking down at you and you had never felt so small. Your heart stuttered, there was too much humour in his crooked smile for someone who had innocently proposed a game of beer pong.

“No. We made a deal.” He sounded so naturally calm and though his voice wasn’t gloating - his eyes certainly were.

You wanted to cry but you wouldn’t allow yourself to. There was no way you’d toss away all of your pride tonight - you were already going to have to do anything he asked you to so you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

Dropping your head and releasing the grip you had on the ball, you pulled away from him and sighed in defeat. It pissed you off to no extent to lose in front of all these people, especially seeing as though Eren had made the terms of the game clear to everyone watching.

You couldn’t help but scold yourself for even accepting those terms - it benefitted you very little. Never did you think you would lose and have to follow Eren around like a dog all night and wait for him to give a command.

Folding your arms, you raised your head, deciding to at least pretend that your defeat hadn’t pissed you off endlessly.

“So?” You asked, waiting for whatever embarrassing wish he had for you to fulfil.

“I want you to get on your knees and apologise.”

You felt the life drain from your face as your heart plummeted. As if the night couldn’t get any more humiliating, Eren was right there to remind you that it can and it will. Shaking your head, you swallowed nervously and replied. “No way. Not in front of all these people.”

“We had a deal, didn’t we? On your knees, princess.” He spat venomously. You looked up into his eyes with a silent pleading desperation and realised there was no negotiating when you noticed how lifeless and full of hatred his eyes were. It also hit you at that moment that he had been waiting for an opportunity like this for a while. Had he planned this entire thing?

Looking around, you felt a burning amount of rage flow through you as you bit your lip and sank to your knees.

“I’m sorry.” Your tone wasn’t short of seething anger and you kept your head down, not wanting to look at how proud he must be.

“Aw, c’mon, you can do better than that,” Your fingers grasped at the thin and short material of your skirt in frustration. “Look, you can sit here and apologise properly to get this over and done with, or we can be here all night - which is only more embarrassing for you, really. I mean, at least try to sound sorry.”

As much as you didn’t want to admit for the second time in two minutes, he was right, so you caved in.

“I’m sorry, Eren. I’m sorry I wasn’t watching where I was going and bumped into you and I’m sorry I said it was your fault. Also, I’m sorry for calling you a freak… and a perv,” Looking up at him, you stare intently into his eyes, like he was the only other person in the room. Your voice lowered to just over a whisper. “Please forgive me.”

Eren stood above you with his arms folded - his face now void of any emotion, not even a hint of pride or victory carved into his features as he looked down on you.

“Hm. I’ll think about it.”

How the fuck did he manage to annoy you more and more with every word that fell from his lips? He’ll think about it? What the fuck does he even mean by that?

“You asked me to apologise, and I did. So just fucking forgive me.”

Eren crouched down to your level and took your chin in between his index finger and thumb before leaning over to whisper in your ear. “I’d watch what you say, princess. You don’t wanna get punished do you? I mean, how would all these people react once I tell them their perfect girl keeps pressing her legs together every time I look at her?”

He noticed that? No, scrap that - why the fuck did just the mention of getting punished cause that familiar throbbing in between your legs? And the way his breath was fanning your ear and how low his voice sounded as he spoke. What the fuck was he doing to you?

Pulling away, he gave you an expectant look and you shook your head - agreeing with him.

He stood up and motioned for you to follow him.

Fuck was this going to be a long night.

Within minutes of his victory, there were people crowding Eren and talking to him like they had been friends for years - like he wasn’t the type they’d make fun of behind his back. Like you hadn’t watched them.

You dragged your feet and followed him wherever he went, occasionally going to fetch him or his new-found friends another drink whenever he asked you to.

He wasn’t talking to you much, and you were grateful for that. He didn’t gloat or brag about his victory, he simply gave you a demanding look and gave you a task to do.

Despite this, he was constantly looking over at you. His eyes would wander down your body just like they had done when you bumped into him and like they were when you were playing beer pong. His eyes would burn holes into your skin before he would lick his lips and turn back around to rejoin the conversation he had temporarily removed himself from. You assumed he was simply trying to make sure you hadn’t ran off.

The thought had crossed your mind a few times. You could run off and save your reputation, but you were getting an odd sort of pleasure from the way he was ordering you around, laughing at you and thinking of new ways he could humiliate you in front of everyone.

Him not speaking to you, however, also gave you the time to properly look at him as well. You were right previously, he was in one of your classes. He sat at the back, typically staring out the window or twirling his pen. You don’t know how you never really paid any attention to him before because there was something about him that was so… attractive.

Eren had a quiet, brooding look about him that would generally scare other people - or at least earn him a few weird looks.

Not tonight, however. His typical chilling look was embraced given the fact it was halloween and it made you seethe with anger at his blatant hypocrisy after he had made his distaste of you due to your popularity so apparent all whilst soaking in the amount of attention he was getting instead of you.

You were outraged that you were having to stoop down to his level and embarrass yourself in front of everyone. Yet, for some reason, you weren’t able to prevent the throbbing feeling between your legs when he was looking down at you and commanding you to do something else he could have done easily on his own.

You were glaring at him when he suddenly decided to excuse himself from the group he was with and called you to follow him. Cursing under your breath, you hurried after him with an annoyed look plastered onto your face.

“What's wrong with you?” He did nothing to hide his mocking tone or the humour he found in your situation.

“I have no clue what you’re on about. I just fucking love following you around like a dog and doing whatever you want.” You snapped, crossing your arms and furrowing your brows.

“Well that's good, considering you’ll be doing it for the rest of the night.”

There was a ringing in your ear and you wanted nothing more than to take a hammer and smash every single speaker that echoed the beat of the music throughout the cramped halls. Every brush of someone walking past you was making you incredibly frustrated and you felt so close to lashing out at someone - preferably Eren.

“You’re an asshole.”

Within seconds, you were pulled into an empty corner and pushed against the wall. Eren had one of his hands on your hip and the other had a deathly grip on your chin.

“And you’re a pathetic slut who’s been staring at me the entire night with those stupid ‘fuck me’ eyes and pressing her legs together because it’s all the action she’ll be getting for a while after this.”

Your heart was thumping in your chest because of his bold accusations, and despite this, you could feel yourself growing hotter. Your skin became more sensitive and was tingling at every touch and where his hand was touching gently on your hip it felt like you were burning.

You were holding your breath - hardly able to speak or think of a comeback until you remembered how he had been eyeing you the entire time as well.

“Oh yeah? Haven’t you been eye-fucking me this entire night? If you play your cards right, I might let you fuck me?”

Eren pulled back slightly and barked out a laugh at your response as though it was the funniest thing in the world which only irritated you more, though you refused to show it.

Subtly, he slipped his leg in between yours and pushed them away slightly, creating room for him to press his thigh up against your clothed pussy and giving you a taste of the pleasure he could bring you just by simply moving his thigh to rest between your legs. Though, he knew what he was doing as he moved his leg slightly resulting in him grinding his leg against your clit causing you to whine softly.

“Let me? Princess, you really have no idea who’s in control, don’t you? If I feel like fucking you, I will, and you’re gonna take it like a good girl, aren’t you? Because, you’ve been so good to me the entire night, you don’t want to spoil it, do you? I mean, sure, you can’t take a single order without a complaint or any back talk, but you’re getting there. You’re a spoiled little thing, but one that I can shape easily into a perfect little slut.”

The way he was talking about you and degrading you would have usually had you slapping him in the face and walking off immediately. But the way his insults rolled off his tongue so naturally was so appealing and had the control that you were so desperately trying to grasp at, falling from your fingers even further than before.

That’s what you needed. Control.

“You’re right, Eren,” biting your lip, you took one of your fingers and slid it down his shirt and across his stomach. You felt like gasping when you could feel his figure through the tight material of the shirt yet you decided to remain silent. “I’ve been so good to you. Don’t you think I deserve a reward?”

Control was something that was very short-lived when you were faced with someone like Eren. Someone who could so easily snatch it up from underneath your nose and wave it obnoxiously in your face.

“For what, hm? Doing as you’re told? That’s what I fucking expect from you. No, you’ll get a reward when you impress me. Like I said, you can’t even get through a single task without a complaint. What’s so difficult about grabbing a couple of drinks?”

“You won’t let me have one.” You retorted, a pout settling on your face. The first time he had told you to get him a drink, you had got one for yourself as well - a way to calm your nerves and help you through this dreadful night. Immediately, he had taken your drink away from you and drank it right in front of your face as you stood there and watched dumb-founded.

He had told you that you weren’t allowed another drink unless he permitted you to and you blew up in his face about how unfair it was and called him a variety of creative insults.

Eren was ensuring that you were sober enough to feel the humiliation of your situation but also that you were in the right state of mind for when he inevitably fucks you tonight.

“That’s right, I won’t. You’ll understand why soon.”

Eren removed himself away from you completely and went on about his night like that interaction hadn’t left him as flustered and yet simultaneously annoyed as you were.

He walked into the same living room you had started your night in. There was a different group of people in there, yet immediately, as if he was famous, someone offered their seat to Eren and two girls sat themselves next to him.

There was a panging feeling of jealousy hovering within you as you watched them touch his arms and laugh unnecessarily loud at one of his jokes.

He had just been flirting with you and yet somehow, he had easily moved on to the two girls he saw next whilst asking them if they wanted a drink because he knew just the person to fetch them.

You stormed off to the kitchen, pissed off at how he seemed to be enjoying the company of those two other girls far more than your own.

But why? They wouldn’t be able to handle him like you could. If he was finding pleasure in ordering you about and forcing you to humiliate yourself, all whilst grinding his thigh against you in a place where anyone could have walked past, who knew what other kinky shit he was into?

There was a sense of desperation that hung over you. You wanted him to notice you, you wanted to get his attention so badly, you wanted to show him just how much of a slut you could be for him.

There was no way he’d even look in the direction of another woman after tonight, you swore it.

Bending down, you placed their drinks on the table, flashing him your black, lacy thong in the process yet not caring because you took pleasure in showing off knowing the people behind him could see as well.

“That’s a nice thong you’re wearing.” He stated blandly. You turned around to look down at him, sitting so carelessly on the sofa with his arms draped around two other girls.

For some reason, this frustrated you to no extent. You wanted to believe that it was because of how annoying it was that he could pretend like he couldn’t care less about you. But, in reality, you wanted nothing but his attention on you. You didn’t want him to be touching other girls - that was the reason you had flashed him your thong as well, in hopes that he would catch a glimpse of what he was missing.

You grinned when he noticed the fact that he had been staring so shamelessly at your clothed pussy, letting you know that he did want you and not them.

What he said afterwards, took you aback. The grin on your face immediately being wiped away from existence - no trace of it to be seen.

“Give it to me.”

Your mouth was agape and there was nothing but disgust plastered all over your face before you quickly covered it up with your typical look of nonchalance.

The people surrounding you whistled, still invested in the ongoing dare and what would turn out to be your inevitable downfall. There was still a sizable crowd amongst the dozens of other people pretending to be minding their own businesses. People you had known for years, people you had made fun of and chat shit about were relishing blatantly at your humiliation.

There was only one thing that you could do, and that was pretend to be as unaffected by the situation as possible. So, without another second of hesitation, you reached up underneath your skirt and pulled down your thong slowly as your eyes remained locked on Eren’s, both of your faces portraying zero emotion.

As you pulled your thong down your legs, you felt shame as your arousal clinged to it desperately and you knew that the minute you handed the fabric to him, he’d be able to see a glistening wetness. Your pussy had betrayed you, and now he was going to know exactly how you were responding to his degrading demands and humiliation.

Like he didn’t already know.

Still, you kept your face expressionless as though you weren’t ashamed and cringing and dying a little bit inside.

At the end of the day, there were still crowds of people around you, howling and praising your name for being so bold and hot.

Someone had to be reminding them of what they wanted but couldn’t have - yet there was a part inside of you that was worried the boys would begin to think of you as some common whore who’d have sex with anyone - including them.

You only had room for one worry at the moment, and at least they still somewhat respected you, even if it was just for now.

You twirled the small, black fabric around your finger with an alluring smirk on your face. “Are these what you want, Eren? You’re nothing but a perv.” You said, bending down to shove the panties against his chest before quickly standing back up again and sitting down on one of the other chairs, not wanting to be around him as much as you had to.

He held your thong in his hand and you stared at him in wait. He had immediately noticed the wet patch, and you were waiting patiently for him to announce it to the entire room, giving him a look of false encouragement by raising your eyebrows expectantly - but that moment never came. He simply stared back at you and winked, like it was your own little secret and you thanked him mentally for it as you let out a breath of relief.

Eren didn’t even try to hide how he shoved your thong into his pocket as he called out your name.

You rolled your eyes. Again? Could he not let you have just one break?

“Come and sit over here so I can keep my eye on you.” The girls beside him giggled and you wanted nothing more than to scream in the faces and rip their heads off but thankfully, you refrained. “Right in front of me, on your knees.”

Once again, you complied to his request, standing up and walking over to kneel down right in front of him, shooting him a look that said ‘are you happy, now?’ to which he just smirked and went back to talking to those two other girls.

He should have been the one on his knees. He should be on his knees, thanking you for giving him the time of day that he needed in order to get those girls’ attention. Before you, he was absolutely nothing - not a single girl on his shoulder. Now, because of you, he had two of them and yet it was you that was on your knees.

Without your thong, you felt exposed and anxious that soon you’d be able to feel your arousal dripping down your legs or that someone would be able to see your dripping pussy.

Your mind was spinning, so much so you couldn’t feel Eren’s hard eyes on you as the two girls he was with continued to speak to him like he was paying them any attention. He could see the way your eyes were moving around frantically, the way your legs were pressed together so tightly as you lay your hands in your lap and fidgeted with your fingers. He was concentrating so heavily on you that even over the sounds of chatter and music, he swore he could hear the change in pace of your breathing.

Suddenly, your eyes connected with his. You were taken aback to find that he was already looking at you and if it embarrassed him that you caught him, his face didn’t show it. Neither of you broke the eye contact you held for a while, both too stubborn to be the first to lose. Instead, you just stood up and brushed your skirt down - claiming you needed to go to the bathroom.

His eyes narrowed at you suspiciously and you walked off as soon as you saw his lips part to respond, knowing it would only displease him.

You started pushing through the crowds of people, desperate to get to the bathroom as quickly as possible. You could feel your arousal dripping down your thighs and the way your skin felt hot with embarrassment at the idea of someone seeing.

For some reason, you had only gotten more wet when you saw how Eren was staring at you and how he didn’t take his eyes off you even when you caught him.

There were slight murmurs of your name followed by mocking laughs as you made your way to the bathroom but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care - the only thing on your mind was Eren.

You were so close, mere steps away from reaching the door handle and behind able to relieve yourself when all of a sudden you were being spun around and dragged away causing you to curse whoever was preventing you from relieving yourself from your torment. And of course, who else would it be apart from Eren?

You stared at his back as he walked with your wrist in his hand and you could tell he was pissed off at you - just from his grip and the way that he was walking alone.

The two of you stopped in the corner of a very compact area, there were people everywhere but that didn’t stop Eren from trapping you. Luckily enough, the people around you were either far too high or drunk to pay the two of you much attention as they messily grinded on one another and blew smoke around the room.

Eren forced your head to look in his direction by taking your face in his hand roughly.

There was a scowl adorned on his lips, yet, replacing the usual emptiness within his eyes was a spark that you hadn’t seen before and it made you question whether he had something planned.

His arm was caging you in and he peered down at you menacingly. “Care to explain?”

“I already told you.” you said, the corner the two of you were in was relatively quiet for a party so you hardly had to shout. There was also the fact you didn’t want to draw any attention to yourselves because you were already in a compromising position in front of all these people, you were just relieved they were too intoxicated to fully comprehend what was going on in the corner of their eyes. “I was going to the bathroom. Before you stopped me, that is. By the way, I’m blaming you if I piss myself in front of all these people.”

Whilst Eren may have let out a laugh, it was one that was devoid of any humour or enjoyment. He lowered his head and shook it slowly whilst he laughed and his grip on your chin with the hand that wasn’t confining you strengthened. “That’s funny because I don’t remember letting you.”

“And I don’t remember needing your permission.” You retorted, growing more vexed with every second that passed yet at the same time that throbbing feeling in between your legs came back as you stared at him intently, gauging his reaction.

He dropped his hand from your face and lowered it down to your neck to which you instinctively gave him access by raising your chin. “We made a deal, didn’t we?”

When you didn’t answer him, his clutch on your throat grew more intense causing your mouth to drop open in a mix of pain and pleasure. “Didn’t we?” Eren repeated.

“Y-yes, Eren.” Your voice was less than a whisper, too afraid you’d say the wrong thing. However, you appeared to have pleased him at least a bit as his grip loosened ever so slightly at your response making you sigh in relief.

“Good girl. Now tell me, did you actually need the bathroom? Or…” The hand on your throat once again left its place and made its way down your body and towards the space in between your legs and a single finger wiped some of the slick from your pussy earning a sigh from you as you let your head rest against the wall. Immediately, his hand was removed from your pussy and he brought it up to the space in between the two of you as he examined his finger carefully. His eyes were glued to how wet you were before they locked on yours. “...did you need to fix this little problem, hm?”

Your voice was failing you as you spewed out pathetic stutters of what was supposed to be denial of his accusation yet you both already knew the answer. In fact, he was only asking you to embarrass you. This entire thing, his only goal, was to crush you and leave you mortified - not even recognising yourself anymore. Still, you attempted to deny it nevertheless.

“No! Wh- why the fuck would I- I swear I just needed to go to the bathroom.” It couldn't have been less believable if you tried.

The fact that you even thought of lying to him was enough of a reason for him to punish you - in his eyes, anyway.

“Liar.” He spits, and his hand instantly goes back up to your throat as a way of letting you know that you had upset him. “Fine then. If you want to cum so badly, then touch yourself. Right here, right now. I want you to touch yourself.”

Your eyes went wide like you had seen a ghost, but in reality, this was much more shocking. Was he being serious? There’s no way he actually wanted you to touch yourself when there were so many people around, any of which could look in your direction and see the sinful act you would be committing.

That spark in his eyes. The same one you had noticed immediately once he turned to face you, it told you everything you needed to know.

He was really telling you to touch yourself.

“What?” you exclaimed. Yet, you couldn’t lie, just the idea of any one of these people turning around to see your fingers plunged deep inside of you really turned you on.

“They won’t see you, not with me blocking you.” he reasoned, taking a step closer and further minimising the gap in between the two of you.

“Still, Eren, that’s fucking crazy. There’s no way I’m doing that!” But, oh, you wanted to. Whilst your words were disapproving, you couldn’t help but think about how good it would feel to touch yourself in that moment, your clit was aching and begging for attention as a result of your neglect and your hole was desperate to be filled but no matter what, it was unreasonable to suggest doing something so vile.

Eren simply tutted at your resistance and shook his head like you were a child and he was inevitably going to get what he wanted no matter how many times you objected.

“The thing is, you’re going to do it anyway, aren’t you? You could have left ages ago, but you didn’t. So there’s no point in arguing when we both know you’re going to end up giving in - not because I want you to, but because you want to. Try and hide it all you want, I know what I’ve seen.”

You swallowed nervously and looked around to see if anybody was watching the two of you. Still, you stayed motionless, scared of the consequences yet knowing that nobody would see you with Eren blocking you from anybody’s line of sight.

“What is it then, hm?” He asked with a fake tone of comfort. “Do you need me to help you?”

The feeling of his hand wandering down your bare arm before taking your hand in his own sent shivers throughout your entire body. You didn’t resist his movements, truthfully, you welcomed them. He moved your hand to the space in between your legs and used it to caress the inside of your thighs before your hand reached your soaking cunt.

“Don’t make me do all the work, princess.”

It was like you were starting to act based on just his words and his voice. You found yourself wanting nothing more than him, wanting nothing more than to please him so that maybe he’ll fuck you.

You slipped your fingers inside of you and bit your lip to hold back any noises you wanted to make. Your fingers started slowly moving in and out inside of you and Eren drew back his hand and placed both of them on your hips, using his body to shield your own from any prying eyes.

“That’s a good girl, so obedient.”

A quiet noise slipped from your throat and Eren hushed you soothingly as his thumbs caressed your hips.

Your fingers began to speed up and curled slightly in order to reach that spot that you knew would bring you close to the edge. Taking your thumb, you started rubbing steady circles on your clit and because of the added stimulation, it didn’t take long until your fingers were thrusting themselves continuously in and out of your soaking pussy whilst your thumb’s motions picked up the pace.

“Tell me when you’re about to cum, okay?” You nodded in response, not thinking twice about it.

You used your other hand to cover your mouth and stop yourself from drawing any attention in your direction.

Eren’s lips found themselves on your neck, leaving gentle pecks up the side of it. His kisses were light as a feather and fleeting - gone and moving to another spot before you could truly appreciate his lips.

“Eren, I-” you began, your voice muffled due to your hand being placed over your mouth.

“Speak clearly, princess. I can’t hear you.” His voice vibrated over your neck and you whined louder than you should have done - your eyes instantly bulging out of their sockets as you looked around the room frantically to see if anyone heard and only let yourself breathe when you were certain nobody had.

“‘M gonna cum, Eren–”

Within seconds, Eren’s lips were off your neck and your hand had been dragged away from your aching pussy. You couldn’t even process what had happened because your mind was far too hazy, so you simply stared at Eren in disbelief.

You could feel your orgasm fading away and tears creeping up into your eyes. “W-what? Why did you- I don’t understand-”

“It wouldn’t be much of a punishment if I let you cum, would it?”

He smoothed out your skirt for you in a fake gesture of kindness before walking off from you and shouted back for you to follow him.

You, on the other hand, needed a drink. So, you chose to walk in the opposite direction and instead towards the kitchen. Noticing this, he rolled his eyes and followed you instead. He called out your name several times but you paid him no attention as you took a cup and poured some alcohol into it before bringing it to your lips.

However, his hand stopped you before you could raise the cup and chug back its contents.

Eren removed the cup from your hand and placed it on the kitchen counter. “There’s a reason I don’t want you drinking alcohol and why I directly told you that you can’t have any.”

Still, you refused to listen and picked the cup back up against his wishes before taking a sip.

“You’re acting like a brat.” Eren was clearly getting riled up, evident by the annoyance in his tone. “You seriously want to get punished again after the last time?”

Wiping your mouth, you considered his words, but the overwhelming feeling of vexation with him because of him denying you your orgasm overshadowed any reason or rationality, so instead, you simply shrugged and giggled to yourself a bit - feeling far too proud with yourself.

“Do you know how much fun it would be, how much pleasure it would bring me, if I was to tell everyone about that little wet patch I found on your thong, hm?”

You were fuming. How dare he threaten you? You couldn’t risk him telling anyone else. Just him knowing was embarrassing enough.

Eren got closer to you, so close to the point where your chest was pressed up against his, and his head was mere inches from your own. You felt yourself growing hot, and that all too familiar feeling of need between your legs was prominent once again, just from the simple proximity between the two of you as though just him being close to you was far too much for you to handle.

“See, this bratty attitude of yours is gonna have to stop. Remember that you’re doing this willingly, and if I have to punish you again for acting like a brat then I won't hesitate to.” He cupped your cheek and spoke so softly, like he was complimenting you instead of scolding and threatening you with punishments. “So, are you going to be a good girl for me? Are you going to obey me like we agreed you would do?”

You were really started to hate him. You hated the way he spoke down to you like he was better than you. You hate the way that his threats and his insults and his words had this irreversible effect on you and caused you to press your legs together so pathetically like you couldn’t control yourself. You hated how you wanted nothing more than for him to make good on his words and just fuck you already. Mostly, you hated how much you didn’t hate it and you hated how you actually felt more inclined to misbehave than be good for him because even though it felt so good when he praised you, it also felt incredible when he punished you.

You looked inside your cup, checking out what was left of the drink - after seeing there wasn’t too much left, you took the cup and chucked everything inside of it at Eren before slamming it down on the kitchen island and tilting your head at him waiting for his reaction.

That, he hadn’t seen coming. He wasn’t expecting quick compliance out of you, but he assumed that after him preventing your orgasm you would at least show a little restraint. He had stumbled back a bit, shocked by your retaliation.

There was people surrounding the two of you now, vocalising their interest and edging Eren on to do something about it - he would, just not in front of them.

Lifting up his shirt, he wiped what had gotten on his face off before giving you a dead look and taking your arm in his hold and walking out of the kitchen. The people that were watching expectantly voiced their disappointment before going back to what they were doing.

You stumbled throughout the halls, people shooting the two of you odd looks as you followed him reluctantly - his grip on your arm merciless and all of a sudden you were actually aware of what you had just done.

Eren opened the door to one of the many bedrooms and shoved you inside of it before swiftly shutting the door and locking it, his head hanging low whilst he faced the door and a brief silence fogging up the room, suffocating you.

You stood in the middle of the room, watching his back. You wanted to go up to him and apologise but you couldn’t find the courage to approach him.

As he turned around, you noticed how his eyes looked dark and displeased, like you had really disappointed him this time and like it was his final straw in dealing with you.

“You think that shit was cute, princess? ‘Cause I’m really not happy with you.”

“Look, Eren, I- I was just-”

The sound of his footsteps cut you off as he began walking over to you.

Without warning, he slapped your cheek causing the sound to reverberate around the room and the inevitable silence that stung your ears afterwards. You were no longer looking at him, your head tilted to the side and you resisted that prominent urge to press your legs together.

He cupped the cheek that he slapped and caressed it harshly. “Your safe word is red, do you understand.”

Giving him a clear nod, he took the initiative to pull you over to the bed that sat in the middle room before he took a seat and pulled you over his lap so that your ass was up in the air. He placed something on the bedside table, but you didn’t see what it was. Pulling up your skirt, he caressed the fat of your ass gently.

He sighed, shaking his head. “I was really starting to think that you were beginning to behave as well.”

The sound of a painful slap across your ass rang in your ears as you winced, gripping the sheets.

“I said I was sorry, Eren-”

“You think that’s fucking good enough?” Another slap, this time to your other cheek before he returned back to the other and slapped it a few more times. “You did a very bad thing, princess. I didn’t think you had it in you anymore after your last punishment but it turns out just edging you isn’t enough to help you learn.”

Eren’s palm slapped your ass with a sound that could be heard from the hallway if there wasn’t still music blasting throughout the halls. You sucked in a breath and your grip tightened on the bed’s covers as you waited for the next swat to come, and then the next and the one after that one as well - along with all the smacks that came after that.

Your skin was stinging and hot and it seemed like Eren was hell-bent on breaking you and peering through the cracks of your life with the sheer strength he was putting into every individual slap.

And yet, for whatever sick and twisted reason that had derived from the most wicked parts of your mind, you were moaning and wriggling in his hold in a desperate attempt for friction against your aching cunt. You were finding pleasure in the pain he brought upon you no matter how much it stung and you wanted to cry.

You tried to squirm away as they got harder but it would always result in him somehow making the next harder than the last so you stopped trying.

“C’mon princess, take your punishment like a good little girl. You’re not leaving until you’ve learned your lesson so stay put.”

Letting out a low cry of pain, you tried to move your head up in an attempt to get away slightly yet he just brought his free hand to your head and held it down roughly.

“Don’t tell me I’ve smacked all the sense out of you, princess? What did I just fucking say, huh?”

His words and his force - it was all far too much but equally just what you had been needing. There was something about letting go and not having the control that you so desperately yearned for that was so freeing - and now, with your head pinned and Eren ruthlessly smacking your ass, you had no choice but to submit to his cruelty and relish in the feeling of being used.

Slowly, he moved his hand to reach to the side of your face before tapping your lips in a way that asked for your permission to open up - to which, of course, you complied.

“Just a couple more, princess. Okay?” It had been a while by this point, your face was soaked with tears and your thighs were drenched in your own fluids. Your ass was red hot and growing hotter with every spank. “Just need you to tell me how sorry you are, otherwise I wont know if I can trust you to be good.”

Instantly, you replied - flooding his ears with sobbing pleas and continuous sorrys. He smirked and stopped his merciless attack on your ass before stroking the skin softly and affectionately. He lifted you up so that you sat on his lap and you winced slightly, resulting in a cunning grin forming on Eren’s lips.

You hadn’t been this wet all night, if Eren didn’t fuck you right now you thought you would lose your mind.

“Eren, I want you to fuck me.”

Raising an eyebrow at you, he sat you down next to him before standing up and looming over you - taking your cheek in his hand and forcing you to look up at him. “I don’t know about that.”

“I’ve waited all night, you can’t just-”

“Yes I can.” He cut you off harshly and you stopped your sentence abruptly. He sighed like you were inconveniencing him. “I tell you what, if you beg me right now to fuck you - I will.”

You had already lost so much of your pride - you couldn’t lose anymore. He had gotten everything he wanted yet for some reason, after a single taste of greed, he wanted more.

“I’m not going to beg you, Eren. You’ve gotten everything from me tonight - nobody is ever going to look at me the same again thanks to you. Isn’t that what you wanted? Now, you’ve ruined my reputation, the least you can do is fuck me hard enought that I forget about it.”

Eren’s features portrayed nothing other than irritation. He squeezed your chin tightly and you whimpered almost silently. “Who the fuck are you to be ordering me around? Either, you beg, or I leave. It’s entirely up to you, princess.”

You wanted it so bad. Nobody had ever made you feel the way Eren did. Nobody had ever crossed as many lines and tested you so much in a way that actually turned you on. He hadn’t even touched your pussy, yet you already know he know’s how to please it like he’d been fucking you for years.

But, at the end of the day, you couldn’t risk more than you had. You could spend the rest of your life daydreaming about how good Eren’s dick would feel pounding into you as you sat comfortably knowing you had manage to salvage whatever was left of your crumbling social status and build it back up again - or you could beg him to fuck you right now, and he would tell everyone about what a filthy slut you are who’s just desperate for his cock and your entire life would be in shambles. Who knows, maybe he wouldn’t even fuck you after you begged.

Taking your silence as an answer, Eren hums, before turning back around to unlock the door and reached for the handle.

Or maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d fuck you, and the two of you would then go about the rest of your lives peacefully knowing you didn’t turn down what would be the best sex of your life.

You craved him - it was Eren that freed every single one of your deepest and darkest fantasies from their cage and let you fulfill them. You needed him to.

“Wait.”

You had moved so swiftly from your seat and now your hand was covering his on the door handle. He didn’t turn to face you, he just waited for you to speak.

The feeling of your hand dragging itself down his body snapped him out of his stubbornness and made him turn to see what you were doing - only to be met with the sight of you on your knees as you parted your lips to speak.

“Please, Eren. I need you so fucking badly, please, I need you to use me and slap me around and hurt me because it feels so good. Nobody’s made me feel this fucking good before and I don’t understand why but I need you to help me Eren because I can’t take it. I can’t take it anymore, I need you so badly it hurts. Please. Please make me feel good, Eren. Please.” Your voice was laced with a tone of pathetic desperation that made Eren’s dick twitch in his pants.

Turning around fully, he looked down at the sight of your hands clawing at his pants as you looked up at him with pleading eyes.

“Show me.” Eren demanded, his voice somehow lower than ever.

Without thinking twice, you began to unbuckle his belt and tugged down his pants - freeing his cock that was growing harder and more distressed with every second.

Shit - he was big. Bigger than you thought. Of course, you could kind of feel him when he was pressed up against you earlier or when you were bent over his lap - but you hadn’t imagined it was this large. Eren was amused by how impressed you seemed, but chose not to express it.

You started off by stroking the length slowly and kissing the tip before taking it in your mouth.

Eren hissed at the contact, his hand immediately moving to rest on top of your head. Already, you can hardly get enough of the addictive taste of his dick against your tongue and the way it’s drooling with precum.

He’s gritting his teeth, trying to stop himself from making too much noise and boosting your ego.

Yet, when his spongy tip hits the back of your throat he can’t help the groan that slips from his lips whilst your own are sucking him so perfectly - your tongue expertly moving around his length.

You bob your head up and down somewhat slowly, his dick being simply too hard to adjust to so quickly.

Your soft, warm tongue was stroking his dick so nicely it was driving him insane, and as much as he could do this forever - there was only so much time before people began to get kicked out of the house and told to go home, and whilst Eren had no idea what the time was, he’d hate himself forever if he let this opportunity slip past his fingers.

The longer he was waiting for you to pick up your pace and quit teasing, the more impatient he was growing. He knew damn well what your mouth was capable of, but apparently no matter how much you ran it and how big that mouth of yours could be - his dick was far too much for it.

Eren considered it a gesture of helpfulness when he grabbed the back of your head and started thrusting viciously in and out of your mouth - the tip bulling the back of your throat as you gagged and choked yet showed no sign of resistance.

Theres saliva travelling down your chin and your slobbering all over his cock - it’s all so messy but none of that is on your mind. The only thing you can think of is showing him how much you need him. He makes you so pathetic that you’re shocked the mean bitch you were just a couple of hours ago ever even existed.

So pathetic, that when he moves his foot directly underneath him, you can’t help the overwhelming urge to grind down on his boot. You knew it was risky, you knew that there was a chance it would displease him but you could never stop yourself from acting without thinking things through properly. However, realistically, how were you supposed to think about anything when he was fucking every thought right out of your brain.

You hoped that he was so consumed by his own pleasure that he wouldn’t have a problem with it - or preferably, that he wouldn’t even notice. Nevertheless, you grinded yourself down against his boot and moaned - the sound muffled by his cock yet the vibrations caused him to groan and his grip on your head grew harder.

It felt so good, the way your hips were dragging your pussy against his boot and giving you the stimulation you had been needing the entire night.

Your hands are gripping at his thighs for some sense of stability as you try to balance yourself whilst he fucks your throat raw and without any regard for yourself - his balls hitting your chin.

Sounds of gurgling and sucking dominated the entire room. It was all so lewd, from the noises the two of you were making to the fact that your hair was becoming a mess and you were drooling dumbly.

“Fuck- you’re such a slut, aren’t you? Doing all of this just so you can get dicked down - so fucking pathetic. I should have expected it from you.”

There are hot tears streaming down your cheeks but you aren’t anywhere near upset. Your makeup is no longer in tact, mascara painting your cheeks.

You can feel all of your senses going practically numb as he fucks them all out of you. You’re struggling to breathe but you’re entirely okay with it - you can barely even moan properly and you can feel the way he’s silently mocking you for it as he continues his brutal pace in your mouth.

Eren is entirely consumed by the pleasure - letting it take over him completely as he mutters out curses and groans deeply whilst keeping a tight grip on your head. He’s losing his mind from the delicious feeling of your mouth taking him so well.

However, he pulls out, evidently not wanting to finish just yet and theres a spark of hope within you that it means he’s convinced and that he’s going to fuck you.

“Shit- that was fuckin’ amazing, princess. Gonna cum all down your throat, next time.”

Next time? Your eyes widened and your heart clenched in excitement at the prospect of there being a next time.

Eren tucks himself back into his pants, that spark of hope dying a bit. He walks over to the bedside table where he placed something before. When he carried it back over to you, you recognised that it was a bottle of beer.

“You want a drink, sweet girl?”

You looked up immediately, wiping the drool of your chin, to see him swirling around the beer in the bottle. “Please…”

Eren smirked in satisfaction as he kneeled down to your level and took your chin in his hand. You tried to reach up for the bottle, but he moved it out of your reach whilst tutting disappointedly.

“Open wide.”

He poured the liquid into your mouth from high above your head, resulting in only some of it going into your mouth as you eagerly took as much as you could while a fraction of it dribbled down your chin and spilled down your breasts.

He took the bottle away and brought his thumb up to wipe away some of the beer on your chin before slipping it into his own mouth and winking at you.

As he looked down at you, he noticed a wet spot on one of his boots and he raised an eyebrow at you. Shamefully, you turned away.

“Fuck, princess, that fuckin’ desperate are we?” he laughed, yet you couldn’t see the humour in it and there was a slight pout on your lips which was soon wiped away.

That singular spark of hope from before sets ablaze once he picks you up and tosses you on the bed in an instant - removing your shoes and starting on your fishnets and skirt.

Flipping you over so that your back is to him, he rips the wings from your back. “Your no angel, princess, I’ll tell you that.”

You could feel his voice against your neck before he started to suck and bite your neck.

He lifted up your top over your head so that you were now bare in front of him.

His hands were roaming everywhere yet his lips stayed on your neck as he kissed and bit your neck in a possessive manner - as though he was letting the entire world that you belonged to someone - that you weren’t just a slut, you were Eren’s slut.

To your dismay, he stood up from the bed. You turned yourself over to see what he was doing only to find yourself confused when he was rummaging through whoever’s wardrobe it belonged to.

Closing the wardrobe door, he turned to face you with a tie in his hand. Biting your lip, you tilted your head up at him in surprise. Laughing, you asked, “You really gonna tie me up with some stranger’s tie and then fuck me in their bed? And I’m the dirty slut.”

Eren laughed along with you, kneeling in front of you on the bed and forcing you to backup towards the headboard. “They won’t know.”

Taking your hands in a delicate grip, he tied them both together to the metal headboard. The knot was tight, so tight you figured you’d have a lot of trouble ever trying to get out of them without Eren’s help.

His lips hovered over yours for the first time before he pressed them together and plunged his tongue into your mouth - kissing you roughly.

He tasted incredible and his lips were so soft. For the first time, he was being properly gentle with you and he had no clue why.

This entire thing began as a revenge fantasy, so why was he all of a sudden feeling the need to handle you like you were glass.

One of his hands slipped between your legs and began to play with your soaking pussy. “Shit, princess. So wet.”

“I need you now, Eren.” You muttered against his lips, snapping him out of whatever daze your lips had put him in.

Bringing his hand back up, he quickly sucked the wetness from your pussy off his fingers and almost groaned at the taste.

Now, he was eager to be inside of you - longing for the feeling of your wet walls hugging his dick so tightly like he knew they would.

“Shit, princess. You think you can take me?” He mocked, a huge smirk plastered on his face and though typically you would have wanted to smack it right off, in that moment, all you could do was whine as you bucked your hips up needily.

He was practically folding your legs like a chair. Both of them rested on his shoulders as he leaned down to kiss your lips before pushing his rock hard cock inside of you. In sync, the two of you moaned at the sensation - and thought that initial pain from the stretch was apparent, so was the feeling of every single one of his veins and the slight curve of his dick.

Once he was fully in, he let you adjust for a moment as the two of you stayed in silence. Eren continued marking your throat as a form of restraining himself from pounding into you ferociously.

Gradually, he started to slowly move in and out of you - and soon enough his cock was brutally hitting that spot within you that had you gasping and seeing stars.

His lips trailed down to your chest and took one of your nipples into his mouth, twirling his tongue around it as he pistoned his cock into your throbbing cunt.

He was fucking you so roughly that all you could do was lay there and moan loudly - completely unaware of anything other than how his dick was making you feel.

Eren was mesmorised by the feeling of your walls squeezing him so tightly and deciding that he needed to see it. Removing his mouth from your nipple, he sat up and used his hands to keep both of your legs up as he watched the way your pussy hugged him so tightly, refusing to let him go.

“Should have know that all it would take was a bit of dick to get you this obedient and good. A bitch like you just needs some dick to put her in her place, ain’t that right, princess?”

His words were hardly registering in your mind, but just the sound of his voice had you whining and your pussy tightening around his dick, desperate for more.

You could feel every inch of his dick pounding into you and dragging ruthlessly against your walls, causing you to gasp and choke on your own moans.

With all of your effort, you took a deep breath before sputtering out a request. “Wanna- t-touch you, ‘ren, please-!”

He paused his bruising thrusts, and with such a speed you had never seen before undid the knot of the tie without any questions - he simply just did as you had asked like he needed you to touch him as well before going back to pummeling his cock in and out of you.

Your hands went to grasp at his back, clawing at the flesh in an attempt to seize some sort of control. Your fingernails were leaving scratched in their places as they dragged down his back which only had Eren groaning at the painful feeling as he picked up his pace and somehow went impossibly faster and more rough.

“Such a whore, and all for me as well. Nobody else gets to see you like this, not anymore. You’re all mine now, princess. Do you hear me?”

You nodded frantically in response, unable to form any coherent words other than curses and chants of his name.

The idea of being just his brought you so close to your orgasm. The idea of being able to have his dick inside of you, making you feel this good, whenever you wanted and all you had to do was just be a bit of a brat (which you were amazing at).

Noticing that you were getting closer, due to the fact that your pussy was only getting tighter around his dick and he didn’t think he’d be able to hold on much longer, his hand reached down to play with your pulsating clit in hopes that you’d be able to finish with him. He kissed your face and your lips and stared at you with adoration filling his eyes.

Everything was becoming so much. You were filled to the brim with Eren’s large dick, and the way his skillful fingers were toying with you so effortlessly despite how clouded he was with pleasure made you feel incredible.

“I’m g’nna fill you up with my cum. Shit, I need to see this pussy full with my cum, is that okay, princess?”

You let out a noise of approval as you nodded which was all Eren needed before he finished inside of you and the feeling along with the knowledge of how it was you that he was finishing inside of caused you to reach your high as well.

Eren continued to thrust his dick in and out of you through both of your orgasms as you came in sync. His lips found yours - completely infatuated with the way your lips felt against his and the way you tasted on his tongue.

When Eren pulled out, he was enthralled by the sight of his cum spilling out of your hot pussy as he smirked and used one of his fingers to push what he could back inside of you.

“God, you’re so fucking hot, princess. I’m fuckin’ keeping you, do you hear me? No more of that dare shit - you’re mine permanantly.”

Breathlessly, you replied. “‘M all yours, Eren. Just fuck me like that more often, okay?”

note: it's almost 2am, the ending is rushed and I have college in the morning so i apologise if there are any mistakes. i needed to get this out before I drove myself insane.

#fanfic #smut #attack on titan x reader #aot fanfic #aot x reader smut #aot x reader #aot fanfiction #aot smut #eren x you #eren smut #eren jeager smut #eren jaeger smut #eren x reader #kinktober 2023 #kinktober

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adventuringblind · 6 months

Text

Possessive

Lando Norris x Reader x Oscar Piastri

Dialouge: "You are ours and ours only."

Summary: Oscar gets possessive during a night out.

Warnings: downright Filthy smut, marking, dom/sub, double penatration,

Notes: This is part of my 1000 follower celebration

Masterlist

Neither Lando nor Oscar would say they are possessive men. They love each other and their girlfriend, and they know she loves them. It's very difficult, however, to remain neutral while watching another man flirt with her.

He started a conversation while she was dancing with Lily and Carmen during their post race celebrations. She'd politely tried to get away from him but the man is annoyingly persistent.

"Should we help her?"

"Can we do it without punching him is the real question."

"But it would be so satisfying if we did."

"Osc, you scoop the spiders up and take them outside. There is no way you can punch that guy."

The Australian whips around to face Lando. A smug look plastered on his face. "Wanna bet?"

Lando, with no alcohol in his system since he Despises the stuff, agrees. The Brit would soon come to learn never to challenge Oscar again.

The woman in question still looks highly unlikely comfortable and getting more agitated by the second. Relief, however, hits her as Oscar appears behind the man pursuing her and taps him on the shoulder.

"Pretty sure she wants to be left alone." His arms cross over his chest but he still looks as unassuming as ever.

Most people would assume Oscar doesn't know the definition of the word violence. She knows better, though. Her and Oscar had been together before Lando. If it's in the name of defense, he won't hesitate to swing.

"I don't see a boyfriend anywhere. Maybe you should go where you are wanted." The stupid man who can't take a hint seethes.

Oscar takes a step closer, invading the others space. "Seeing as I am one of two boyfriends she has, I think you should step away."

There is silence on the other end. Then a brutal look of disgust. "Well if she's used goods then you can have her, pal."

The look she hasn't seen for years only appears on Oscar for a second. The one that has is inner demons raging. The unflappable, sweet, gentle Oscar is seeing Red.

Only a second before the Aussies fist collides with the other man's jaw, sending him reeling backwards. He's always had a nasty right hook.

She says nothing as Oscar promptly takes her hand and guide her to the entrance. Lando trailing them from where he was watching. The Brit looks a mixture of terror and turned on.

The car ride is silent apart from the loud expressions passed between her and Lando and Oscar's fingers wandering occasionally. The last time he was like this neither of them could walk the next day.

The thing about Oscar, the incredibly calm and unfazed Australian, is that he takes all those emotions and puts them elsewhere. Into sex, specifically. Lando learned this the hard way. His teasing went one toe over the line. He ran out Oscar's patience in a series of events over the course of a week to test the limits.

So Oscar likes control more then he shows. It gives him an outlet, per say. He times and calculates and gets some kind of high off it. Plus it resets him to where he can take whatever shit people throw his way without losing his mind.

Oscar doesn't let go even after they are saftley back in their flat. Instead her body is slammed into wall of the entry way.

"Why don't you tell her what you said Lando. What got you into this mess." The voice he pulls out is the condescending one. The one that makes her knees weak.

"I said you wouldn't punch the guy."

"And if I proved you wrong?"

Lando swallows hard enough for her to hear it. Probably see it also, but her eyes are stuck staring at brown ones that are eating her alive.

"That I would do whatever you wanted tonight. No questions asked."

Lando screwing himself is not shocking. Now, Lando actually doing what he's told? That is even more shocking then when he got drunk. Only once before he decided he hated it for sure.

"Then I want you stripped and on the floor in the bedroom." Silently, the Birt pads away to do as told. Oscar loosens his hold on her body and give her some space. "Seriously though, are you okay? We won't do this if you were any kind if put off by that."

"And miss this opportunity? Absolutely not. If anything to sight of you actually punching somebody has me feral."

"Good. Then let's go find Lando."

Lando, to his credit, is following through. He just looks wicked sad about it.

"Lando? You alright love?"

"Doing what you're told is much less fun."

Oscar rolls his eyes at the pouting boy on the floor.

She was going to ask for instructions. But as she opens her mouth she finds there is no need. Oscar is dragging her to bed. Her clothes are litterally (and unfortunately) ripped from her body. The room is cold without layers, but it won't be for long.

Oscar's lips are everywhere. He kisses, sucks, licks, and bites every inch of skin on her body. Every peice of her knows the feeling of the Aussies warm lips. Every kiss leaves her tingly and every bite leaves her wanting.

"Lando, come here. I think people need to be reminded that she is ours. Would you like that baby? Do you want people to know you are ours and only ours?"

Her brain is too far gone to respond coherently. Lando has already got to work, claiming her where Oscar hasn't already. The Australians voice is gentle, but it's demanding. There is a need burried within it that says he needs people to know she's taken.

"I swear you're just too pretty. Everybody wants you. I'm tired of them not knowing you're already spoken for." Oscar is the next to shed his clothes. Lando's hands have gone from stagnant to touching her like she is the air he breathes. Both males are staking their claim on her tonight. A shared feeling of want for people to know she chose them passes between the two.

Mumbled pleads escape her. Some kind of contact where she's sensitive needs to happen or she might combust.

"Think you can take both of us in the same hole love?" Back to gentle. His need to care for her outweighed the need and desire to have her like this. It makes her agree so fast she gets dizzy from nodding her head so much.

Lando gets to be underneath her. His lips are still attached to her skin. It muffled the moans and tiny whines he's letting out as she sinks down onto him.

"Yiu know, Lando. That guy said our girl is used goods. What do you think? Do you agree with him?"

Lando detaches, his mouth agape. "I can barely get into her mate. I don't know how you're going to. Feels good to me."

"But aren't I used?" She whimpers.

Lando's hand reaches around her front to play with her clit. His large nimble fingers send shockwaves through her body.

"You are not 'used goods' baby." Lando says into her skin. His warm breath sticks to her shoulder. "We love you. We're keeping you. Fuck anyone who says shot like that."

To say she's gushing at this point is an understatement, despite that fact Oscar decideds lube is a smart idea. Now she's even more wet and sticky that she was with just her own self made lubricant.

Oscar takes it incredibly slow. To slow for her liking. But the second he's sliding into her, the friction with Lando, the stretch and positioning of everything. Yeah - it hurts.

Her teeth sink into Oscar's shoulder. Lando's hand is caressing her cheek and wiping away the stray tears that slip down the sides of her face.

It is ridiculous, really, the situation she's in right now. But she can't think as Oscar is cooing praises in her ear and Lando is meticulously puting his hands on her.

They spiral quickly after that. The tension that was in Oscar's shoulders releases as he is finally able to take what he needs. Lando has decended into a mess of moans and thrusting hips.

She is completely at their mercy. A mess of movment. The symphonic melodies of their voices fill the space of the bedroom. Hot breaths stick to her skin over the already present layer of sweat.

The ache in her bones and coil in her stomach rapidly approach a breaking point. She can't even warn them as everything in her snaps and leave her body a flailing mess. The two boys stutter and sink further into the mattress.

Then a silence. An amazing thread connecting all three bodies together.

They stay like that for the next ten minutes. Unmoving. Listening to the sounds of breathing and heartbeats.

"That was eventful."

"No kidding."

"Sorry if I was to rough."

All of them laugh. "Maybe you should apoligize to the guy at the club."

Oscar pulls out slowly, and then Lando lifts her gently off him. Then they actually collapse. Arms outstretched to hold each other close. "We need to clean up."

"We also need to look at your knuckles, Osc."

"I still can't believe you punched him."

Oscar rolls his eyes. "Well it ended well didn't it? I don't hear you complaining."

"Remind me to never challenge you again."

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month

Text

To be alone with you 8

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, power imbalance, cheating, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your babysitting gig becomes complicated. (f!plus sized!reader)

Character: dilf!Clark Kent

Note: who predicted 2024 would be the year I converted to Cavill.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

The blinds are drawn as you hug your pillow with one arm. Your body is stiff as you sleep with one leg hooked around your blankets, the bottom of one cheek exposed to the steady blow of AC. You shiver and roll onto your back, pulling the covers around you fully.

The night before is a vague shadow in your mind. You remember starting the movie but not much else. You’d been so tired after the break-in, you must’ve passed out almost immediately. You feel bad, hoping that Clark doesn’t take it to heart.

You push yourself up. Your head is thick and full with sleep. You haven't slept like this in forever. Your mouth is dry but tangy. You swallow the gritty morning and cough, turning to dangle your legs over the edge.

Your striped shorts are crooked and wrinkly and your tee shirt smells like sweat. Ugh. You're a mess.

You stand and lumber around clumsily. You grab a change of clothes and try to stretch out the kinks as you cross the hall to the bathroom. You close the door and put your clothes on the counter, facing your reflection.

You look rough. You feel just as bad. You turn on the cold water and splash it over your face before you brush your teeth, scraping out the stale taste stuck to your tongue. You turn on the shower and undress, wincing as your thighs meet.

You must be close to your time of the month. You get a bit sensitive. It would explain your fatigue and the soreness. Great.

You step into the glass booth and wash yourself. The warm water is soothing against your stiff muscles. God, you really hurt. You reach down to touch your folds, checking your fingers for blood.

PMS is a bitch. Not enough to bleed for a week, your body has to gaslight you into thinking you are already.

After, you pull on the fresh clothes but hardly feel more awake. Just sluggish and achy. Coffee. You don't live off it like your sister but you need it in that moment.

Thinking of, where is your sister? Not too unusual for her to he errant but it's been a few days.

As you come downstairs, you hear snoring rumbling through the first floor. You slow and tiptoe into the front room. You cautiously approach the couch and find Clark, arms crossed, sleeping on his side, cramped into the small space as he slumbers. The small throw stretched over his shoulders.

Your stomach pits. You're certain he'd much rather be at home in his own bed. Your guilt keeps you from disturbing him.

You creep into the kitchen, making your movement muted and staggered. You flip the switch on the kettle and wait as it hums. You load the french press with grinds and teeter on your toes, dancing nervously around the tile.

You pour the boiling water into the press and check the time on the stove. You give it time to brew and lean on the island, listlessly cupping your chin and tapping your cheek with your fingertips. As you blow out, you hear the floorboards and stand up to greet Clark as he enters.

His hair is askew, eyes droopy, and the blanket still draped around his neck. You didn't realise before he hadn't been wearing a shirt. His pajamas hang low on his stomach, the dark hair across his chest and trailing down his stomach exposed shamelessly. You gulp and focus on his face.

“Smells like coffee,” he grins crookedly, “morning.”

“Morning, uh, I hope I didn't wake you up,” you squeak.

“Not at all,” he waves you off, “you passed out so quick, I figured you'd be up and at em. Besides, Jonny’s an early riser.”

“Oh, okay,” you turn to press down the plunger on the press, “I'm sorry I zonked out so fast–”

There's less resistance than you expect and the coffee splashes up and overflows, splashing your hands as you recoil with a yipe. You try to shake it off but a particular spot on the back of your hand singes badly. Before you can think, Clark has your arm and angles you to the sink as he flips on the cold water.

He guides your hand under, crowding you as your arm shakes in pain. You hiss even as the water soothes.

“Oh, I'm so clumsy,” you murmur.

“As long as you're okay,” he slowly lets you go, “you let me take care of this.”

He swipes up the dish towel and sops up the errant drops of coffee. He dries off the outside of the press and patiently pushes down the plunger. You turn off the water and use a fresh towel on your hands.

He faces you, “blistering?”

You look at your hand, “just tender.”

“You're lucky I'm here,” he chortles, “scare away all the bad men and take care of your burns.”

“Ha, yeah, I–”

“Mm, something smells like cherry blossoms,” he interrupts, sniffing the air, his blue eyes narrowing on you, “is that you?”

“Um, yeah,” you catch a wafting scent from your body, “that's my body soap. Oh no, is it setting you off?”

“Not at all,” he smiles, “I was more worried about you.”

“Ah, no, it's fine. The soap doesn't trigger me surprisingly.”

“Hm,” he leans on the counter, gripping the edge as you notice how his stomach muscles clench, “I bought Lois some cherry blossom soap once. She never used it. Guess it isn't her scent.”

“Not for everyone I guess,” you turn and open a cupboard, taking down two mugs.

“Mm, yeah,” he agrees dully, “well, I should call your dad over my coffee,” he pushes himself straight and nears, stopping right beside you as you pour into the cups, “maybe after we can go get breakfast. My treat.”

“Oh, you don't have to–”

“I want to. Kinda weird not having Jonny around, looking fir a distraction,” he accepts a mug as you slide it over to him.

“Makes sense,” you say, “well, who am I to deny a free meal?”

🏡

After searching your coffee cup for an ounce of strength, you give in to the persistent glaze in your eyes. Maybe eating will help. Clark's offer is generous, almost too generous, yet your stomach clenches at the thought of food.

You grab your purse and head down to find Clark. He's in the kitchen, rinsing his mug, your own forgotten on your night stand. He dries it and puts it away as you wait for him to notice you.

“Did you talk to my dad?” You ask.

“Yeah, actually, couldn't get through. They must be on the road. Service gets spotty, right?” He hangs the dish towel neatly, “so you ready? I gotta stop by my place and change but then we can eat.”

“Sure, uh, well, you know, if it's too much…”

“Not at all, I'm excited. There's this place I've been meaning to try for a while but Lois hasn't felt like it,” he says, “tried calling her too. Think she's still mad at me.”

“Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Kent.”

“Clark,” he corrects you, “you make me feel so old.”

“Sorry,” you apologize again.

“It's fine,” he shrugs, “we should get going. I'm starving.”

“Not gonna lie, me too.”

“Must've been all the salty snacks last night,” he kids.

🏡

After you stop at the Kents', you set off for breakfast. The more you think about it the hungrier you are. You grow restless as you watch several options pass by, holding your tongue as Clark keeps driving.

You're surprised as he passes the city limits and you shift in your seat, craning to watch the sign pass. He clears his throat and turns down the radio, "almost there. Guess I shoulda mentioned it's all the way out here."

"Nah, it's fine," you shrug, "just curious."

"Really cute place, locally owned," he explains, "I prefer to give my money to an honest family business, you know?"

"Totally get it," you say coolly.

He taps his fingers on the wheel, as if he's restless or even agitated. He pulls into a gravel lot off the country road and you look up at the painted side. You passed this place with your parents a few times but never pulled over. It's a quaint brunch restaurant in a cottage-style house.

"Oh, this place," you chuckle.

"You been here?" He asks.

"No, but I've seen it."

"Right," he intones and clicks free his seat belt.

You free yourself of your own seat belt and climb out as he mirrors you. You let him take the lead and follow him to the front door. He holds it open and you enter ahead of him. You're greeted inside by an elderly lady.

"Good morning, may I show you to a table?" She offers.

You nod as Clark gives a vocal response over your head. She leads you to a table for two. You notice the place isn't very busy. There's an older man in the corner drinking coffee over a newspaper but no one else.

You sit as she introduces herself as Lena and promises menus. She shuffles away as you look at Clark who seems enamoured with the place. He admires the painting of flowers not far from your table and the lacy curtains around the front windows. It's cute but a bit outdated.

"There ya go, honies," she lays two menus on the table, her knobby hands shaking, "would you like coffee or tea?"

"Coffee, please, and..." he looks at you.

"Green tea, please."

"Coffee and green," she repeats, "lovely."

She hobbles away and you shift awkwardly in your seat. She must be the only waitress. In a place like this, you're not surprised. You just hope the food is decent, not that you can be picky.

"This place is nice," he muses, "peaceful."

"Yeah, it's interesting," you say as you pick up the menu.

"I'm glad you got some sleep," he takes his own menu and browses it lazily, "glad I could be there to keep an eye out. Protect you."

"Ah, well, yeah, I don't think they guy would come back anyway but it did help," you give a small smile and settle on eggs benedict.

"Great," he puffs out his chest just a little.

You peek up at him. It must be a good distraction for him. With Lois and Jonny gone, he needs something to keep him busy. You can humour him.

"Here ya go, sweets," Lena returns with a mug off coffee and a teacup on a saucer. She places both shakily and stands as straight as she can to ask if you've decided on what you want.

Clark lets you order first and you speak loudly and slowly to the woman as she cups her ear. She repeats it back to you before listening aptly to Clark. When she's done, she gives a soft clap and goes back behind the counter. She scribbles on a piece of paper and puts it in the window.

You glance over at the window, distracting yourself with the blowing grass. Somehow out here, you don't feel the same tickle in your sinuses. You sit back and cross your arms, watching the lazy blue sky.

"Oh, it's so romantic, a nice breakfast for two," Lena startles you as she appears again. She places a candlestick in the middle of the table then puts a wax taper in it. You can only stare and share look with Clark as she lights it, "you are so darling together. Is it a special occasion?"

"Uh," you bite your lip and look at Clark.

"Just breakfast," he answers as he throws his hands up, "spur of the moment, you know?"

"That's precious," she squeals, "you are such a beautiful pair."

"Thanks," Clark says and you just smile awkwardly.

She winks and leaves once more. You watch her cross the restaurant and sit with the old man and his newspaper. He lowers it as she whispers to him. You turn back and face Clark, leaning forward.

"I think she thinks we're together," you keep your voice quiet, "like a couple."

"Eh yeah, I didn't want it to be awkward," he shrugs, "no harm in it, really."

Your mouth slants as you consider his response. You guess he's right. What will it hurt? She's just a lonely old woman.

"What?" He tilts his head.

"Nothing," you answer.

"Really? I mean, I could correct her if it's a big deal--"

"It's not, really," you lean forward and cross your arms over the table, "just funny, I guess. Second time it's happened."

"It is?" He furrows his thick brows.

"Yeah, the ice cream guy..." you trail off, "whatever. Just... I'm kinda young but maybe don't look it."

"It's flattering, really," he insists, "people really think I could be with someone like you."

"Well, I mean, Lois is gorgeous," you laugh, "so..."

"Lucky man, surrounded by beautiful women," he grins.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” you sit back awkwardly, not expecting the compliment. You're nothing like Lois, love handles excluded, you still couldn't compare. You're just the babysitter. “Thanks, that's… you don't have to say that.”

“Well, you are,” he rubs his neck bashfully.

“Ha, yeah, well…” you clasp your hands in your lap and look again out the window.

As you watch the horizon over the dusty road, your heart roils in the tension. There's something nipping at your mind, just on the edge of your memory but you just can't grasp it. Is he just being nice or is there something more behind his compliments?

Don't be silly, he doesn't see you like that. He couldn't.

#clark kent #dark clark kent #dark!clark kent #clark kent x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #babysitter au #superman #dc #dcu #to be alone with you

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starwrighter · 8 months

Text

Dude, get a restraining order

(Masterpost) (Ao3 link) (Previous) (Next)

(As promised Damian falls in love at first sight!)

Minutes ticked by like hours as his English teacher droned on about topics he’d learned years ago. Surface-level information dumbed down to its simplest form. Todd had already given him the assigned book years ago. A classic written sometime in the 1950s. He’d claimed it’d be a book he could relate to. He’d quizzed himself, writing an essay to prove he actually read it when Todd came around again.

He guessed that’s why when the discussions of symbolism and deeper meanings started, his interest plummeted. He focused on a worksheet, only half listening as the teacher read aloud. Vocabulary and its context, all of it so dull. painfully easy, but still father wouldn’t allow him to skip grades, nor would the school. Something about him having “Poor social skills,”

Tch, lies and slander. It wasn’t his fault his classmates were too cowardly to speak to him face to face. They’d been the ones to label him as intimidating and cold. If not being a spineless pushover made him intolerable, then he didn't want to be friendly. He wouldn’t allow himself to be taken advantage of, and he sure as hell wouldn’t let anyone talk down to him without facing the consequences.

He didn't need to be social with these hooligans. A waste of time! Plus, he’s certain everyone in class already held a certain distaste for him. It’d be better if he was homeschooled, but father said he needed to be seen by the public so the media wouldn't talk. Journalists and tabloid writers were like vultures they'd squawk regardless if he was in school or not. Father hadn't seen his argument valid so he was stuck with yet another year of this dull nonsense.

A new transfer student from a small town in Illinois should be here today. An outsider spending a whole seven months in Gotham, it should be equal parts entertaining as it’d be inconvenient. The backlash that’d hit them if they let said transfer student die within city borders would be tremendous. He could only hope this Daniel Fenton wasn’t just late and instead backed out like any sensible person would.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case as the teacher stepped outside, coming back with a smile of faux sweetness on their face, waving her hand, signaling someone inside.

A boy with eyes blue like sapphire stones stepped into the classroom. His shoulders lax but the way he fidgeted in place screamed he’d rather be anywhere but here. His features were soft, electrical scaring running down the left side of his face, creeping down the boy’s chin and neck. Hair pitch black with short splotches of white-ish gray framed his face. A small silver necklace shaped like Saturn hung from his neck, a clear dress code violation, but clearly, he hadn’t been accosted for it yet. Their teacher encouraged him to introduce himself.

“Hi, My name’s Danny and I hope I don’t die here,” Daniel joked, his posture jovial despite the morbidity of his words.

“Though, I wouldn’t be shocked if I did,” He finished, earning a quiet chuckle from those who could see the boy’s scars.

Daniel glanced around the front row, eyes landing on the empty spot beside him. Daniel quickly took this spot without hesitation, ignoring the multiple students who waved him over with a simple gesture to the left side of his face.

With a closer view of Daniel's left eye, he could see the slight milky discoloration of the pupil and iris. He's likely blind in that eye, but the circumstances of him being born with the impairment are unlikely, judging by the damage around his eye socket. It had healed well for what he could only infer was a grievous injury. The scar tissue looked fresh, no older than a year or so, signaling this partial blindness was relatively new.

He seemed relieved that the teacher was reading out loud like nobody had offered him any sort of accommodation for his disability. Considering Daniel came from a small town in Illinois, he doubted any school accommodations were made for him besides maybe a week or so off school when he was recovering. Gotham wasn’t much better, but Father poured a decent amount into the city’s healthcare and educational systems.

“Tuck your necklace under your shirt,” He whispered to his new seatmate when the teacher turned her back. “It breaks the dress code, you’ll never get it back if a teacher spots it,” A warning deadly serious, a bit stern for something as frivolous as a piece of jewelry, but Daniel looked as if that simple warning had saved his life. Daniel shoved the necklace under his dress shirt with alarming speed, tucking the thin, bronze chain beneath his collar, making the boy’s neck look deceptively bare.

They both continued their work in silence, mutual respect between the two of them to stay out of each other’s way. When Daniel’s pencil lead broke, Damian offered him a sharpener. When their teacher called on him despite his hand being down, Danny answered instead, giddy that “he” was called on. Giving the English teacher the easy choice of admitting she was targeting students or playing the part of a welcoming teacher eager to have the half-blind kid engage with her class.

Daniel did it on purpose too, that was sure. He made class time more bearable that was certain as well. The way his seatmate engaged the subject in an intelligent manner despite frequent mutters of English not “being his subject,” was admirable.

When brought into discussion, Daniel meshed with his new peers relatively quickly, quick to snap in with a clever quip when the opportunity arose. He was by no means a social butterfly but fell into the rhythm of a conversation with practiced ease.

Often, when not writing he fidgeted, picking at black and white polish on his nails or twirling a pencil between two fingers. He’d rest his face on his palm and pursed his lips when confused. Though his mannerisms were somewhat awkward, some might call them cute.

It wasn‘t long until class was over, the bell calling all the students to coagulate by the door, slowly filing into the hallway. All except him and Daniel, who stared at a schedule and a map with furrowed brows. They shared their next class too, an idea that filled him with an odd giddiness.

Damian pulled a copy of his own schedule from his bag, tapping Daniels's shoulder and showing him their matching second-hour classes.

“It would be easier if we went together,”

Daniel smiled, canines sharpened to a point. His heart boomed in his chest, a strange but…Pleasant experience. It was too early to tell, but he thinks he’ll enjoy having Daniel here for the next seven months.

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp #deadserious #dead serious #deadseriousship #tagging everything so people can filter properly #These bitches gay as hell #good for thems

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bratzforchris · 9 days

Text

Inked Daisies (Chapter 1)

A series

Summary: For the past year, you've been running the flower shop that's next door to your friend, Matt's, tattoo studio. But what happens when the feelings start to get more than friendly?

Pairing: Tattoo artist!Matt x floristfem!reader

Warnings: There will be individual warnings for each chapter. No warnings in this one!

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Soooo...my first series on here ♡ In this universe, Matt has a nose ring and his usual tattoos, plus some other tats and piercings that'll be added later hehe<3 Let me know how you like it!! 💐💐

“Nope,” Matt shook his head as you stepped inside the shop, looking at you from behind the counter. “You can’t bring those in here.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, setting the small Mason jar of flowers down on the glass case that held a variety of glittering body jewelry. “They’re flowers, Matt. Not a bomb.”

“Don’t care, didn’t ask. Plus, they ruin the look.” Matt kept his eyes trained on whatever he was looking at on his laptop, but you could see a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You’re so grumpy,” You tsked, maneuvering yourself behind the counter and peering over his shoulder. “Whatcha doin’?”

Matt sighed, running his hands through his hair and spinning himself around in his chair to look at you. “This dude keeps changing his fucking design even though he’s put his deposit down. And guess what? His appointment’s tomorrow,” he sighed again, brushing a hand across his nose. “Fuck, I forgot that’s a new piercing.”

Your face dropped into a pout at Matt’s stress. You had known him since freshman year when you had become friends with Chris and the other two triplets by extension. Although you didn’t see all the inner workings of Matt’s mind, you knew that he struggled with anxiety and stress. A particular instance at Six Flags during your sophomore year had told you that much.

“Let’s see the design,” You offered, filling up a paper cup from the water jug behind the counter. “I’m sure there’s something we can do to make him happy.”

“What? Give him the tattoo for free and then change once it’s already on his body?” Matt raised a brow at you as you poured the water into the jar of flowers.

“You’re such a pessimist, Matt,” You shook your head, placing the now-full jar of flowers next to his computer. “If it helps take away the awful, vile sight of big, scary flowers, these are the outcasts. Their stems were too short and a few of them are missing some petals. They’re the rejects.”

Owning a florist’s shop had been your dream ever since you were a little girl. You had been captivated by flowers since the day your granny had taken you into her expertly tended garden, leading you around and telling you all the meanings for the different plants. In a way, it almost felt like you were carrying on her legacy by owning such a dainty, girly shop that sold her favorite things. Maybe she wouldn’t have liked the fact that your shop was directly across the street from an all black tattoo and piercing parlor that just so happened to be owned by your best friend’s brother, but she definitely would’ve liked the aesthetic of your business.

You drew yourself out of your thoughts, pulling up the chair of another piercer who had left earlier in the day. “Let’s see what we’re working with.”

Matt moved a few things around on his laptop, opening up Procreate and clicking onto a design. In your opinion, it was absolutely gorgeous. The tall oak tree in the drawing had large branches that extended outwards, but instead of leaves, the tree held clocks that were all stuck at midnight. Underneath the actual drawing was the carefully lettered sentence ‘Until Time Stops’ in swirly letters that matched the chains of the clocks.

“That’s beautiful,” You said softly, your eyes entranced by the drawing. “It’s…wow, it’s gorgeous.”

“I think so too.” Matt mumbled, clearly more lost in his artistic mind than here with you.

This reminded you of the nights during high school sleepovers. Chris and Nick would pass out early, leaving just you and Matt. You both struggled with insomnia, so some nights you would both stay up, pouring over the brunette’s sketchbook together while Matt explained each and every drawing in great detail to you. You had noticed that, similar to you, Matt had an eye for the natural world. You’d never brought this notice up to him of course, but you often thought about it during the early morning hours when you were doing opening duties in the shop while waiting for your employees to arrive.

“But he doesn’t like it, so it’s a scrap,” Matt shrugged, closing out the application and leaning back in his chair, eyes closed. “God, I’m fucking tired.”

You sighed sympathetically, hopping out of the chair. “I understand. I guess I’d want something I really like if it’s going on my body permanently. Doesn’t mean it isn’t annoying, though.” You acknowledged, bustling around behind the counter as you stacked papers up, put pens back in their cups, and locked the jewelry case.

“I get that you like flowers and animals and shit, but you don’t have to do that. You’re not Cinderella. I’ll do it later.” he sighed.

“Later? Matt, it’s almost nine,” the only reason you had come into the shop in the first place was because you had finished cleaning and locking your own store rather early and had seen Matt sitting behind the counter. “You need to go home and eat and sleep. A) You gotta be hungry and B) No offense, but I wouldn’t want someone who’s sleep deprived to be giving me a tattoo or piercing.” You joked, bumping his shoulder lightly.

As if on cue, Matt’s stomach growled audibly, making him fidget with embarrassment, but not so much that he couldn’t open one blue eye to glare at you. “Says you. How many times have you gotten Astrids and Hydrangeas mixed up because you stayed up all night reading.” the brunette chuckled to himself, remembering the time that you had employed the triplets’ help to create a brand new bouquet less than an hour before a certain bridezilla’s wedding.

“Now that’s not fair and you know it.” You huffed.

“Is too.”

“Is not.”

“Is too.” Matt insisted, smirking triumphantly once he saw you sigh in defeat.

“You’re annoying,” You grumbled. “I like Chris much better.”

“Sure ya do, sweetheart.” Matt didn’t even look in your direction as he closed his laptop, shoving it into his black tote bag.

Something about the way Matt said such a simple sentence had you fighting your blush, grabbing your own bag that you had sat down earlier. You tried to ignore the funny feeling in your stomach, fiddling with your phone while Matt finished the tasks you hadn’t completed. “You think Nick and Chris would kill me if I brought pizza over instead of their elaborate orders from five different restaurants?” You asked, eager to move your mind away from the implication of his words.

“You’re coming over?” Matt turned to look at you, an expression you couldn’t read on his face.

“Nick invited me. You know we don’t see each other as much as we did when we were kids. I miss our sleepovers.” You smiled softly.

Matt’s eyes crinkled with nostalgia. “Yeah, I remember that. They were kind of nice, I guess.”

“You guess? Wow, way to treat us like chumps. You got a girlfriend you’d rather be hanging out with or something?”

“No.” it was a single word, yet the boy’s tone changed from one of fondness to something much deeper and almost angrier.

“I’m sorry, I…” You trailed off, studying him as he picked up his bag, trying not to focus on the tattoos that snaked down his muscular arms and connected to the chunky, silver rings on his fingers. “I didn’t mean to hit a sore subject.” Even though you two were close, you knew Matt didn’t tell you everything about his life.

“Let’s just go, okay? I’m sure the ruffians are hungry.” he grumbled, walking towards the door.

You scrambled after your friend, each of his broad steps equaling four of yours. “They’re not so bad.”

“That’s because you don’t live with them,” Once you were both outside, Matt turned and locked the door to the shop behind him. “Trust me, when Chris burps in your face for the fiftieth time that day, it gets less funny and more annoying. Do you have a ride?”

“...no…” You admitted.

“Can no one in my life get their license?” Matt sighed, not even waiting for you as he started the trek to his car.

“Actually,” You corrected him, practically jogging to keep up. “I have my license. I’m just saving for a car.”

You believed city transportation was a perfectly valid form for getting from point A to point B, but as you slid into the passenger seat of Matt’s car, you couldn’t help but to admit that having your own personal vehicle was a much nicer alternative. Matt pulled out of the parking space without speaking, but you could feel his warm presence beside you in the car. As he migrated the car through the narrow city streets, you found yourself wondering what your life would be like if this is how every single day went for you. You knew Matt would drive you home in the evenings if you asked, but a part of you wanted to keep the rare occasion of rides together just that. Rare, special, something seemingly so mundane that it was almost silly you were even thinking about this.

Time spent alone with Matt was rare, despite working across the street from each other. Between being a triplet and your friendship with Chris, the one-on-one actions were few and far between. But for some reason, on nights like tonight, when you thought about how he interacted with you, you wished that you could make them happen over and over and over again.

tags ♡: @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy

note ♡: if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here <3

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mostlysignssomeportents · 9 months

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The art of Daniel Danger

[Image ID: Daniel Danger's art print, 'To all who home to this happy place,' depicting a ruined Disneyland castle in a post-apocalyptic landscape with a statue of Walt and Mickey in the rubble.]

There’s this behavioral economics study that completely changed the way i thought about art, teaching, and critique: it’s a 1993 study called “Introspecting about Reasons can Reduce Post-Choice Satisfaction” by Timothy D Wilson, Douglas J Lisle, Jonathan Schooler, Sara Hodges, Kristen Klaaren and Suzanne LaFleur:

https://www.researchgate.net/publication/240281868_Introspecting_about_Reasons_can_Reduce_Post-Choice_Satisfaction

The experimenters asked subjects to preference-rank some art posters; half the posters were cute cartoony posters, and the other half were fine art posters. One group of subjects assigned a simple numeric rank to the posters, and the other had to rank them and explain their ranking. Once they were done, they got to keep their posters.

There was a stark difference in the two groups’ preferences: the group that had to explain their choices picked the cartoony images, while the group that basically got to point at their favorite and say, “Ooh, I like that!” chose the fine art posters.

Then, months later, the experimenters followed up and asked the subjects what they’d done with the poster they got to take home. The ones who’d had to explain their choices and had brought home cartoony images had thrown those posters away. The ones who didn’t have to explain what they liked about their choice, who’d chosen fine art, had hung them up at home and kept them there.

The implication is that it’s hard to explain what makes art good, and the better art is, the harder it is to put your finger on what makes it so good. More: the obvious, easy-to-articulate virtues of art are the less important virtues. Art’s virtues are easy to spot and hard to explain.

The reason this stuck with me is that I learned to be a writer through writing workshops where we would go around in a circle and explain what we liked and didn’t like about someone’s story, and suggest ways to make it better. I started as a teenager in workshops organized by Judith Merril in Toronto, then through my high-school workshop (which Judy had actually founded a decade-plus earlier through a writer in the schools grant), and then at the Clarion workshop in 1992. I went on to teach many of these workshops: Clarion, Clarion West and Viable Paradise.

So I’ve spent a lot of time trying to explain what was and wasn’t good about other peoples’ art (and my own!), and how to make it better. There’s a kind of checklist to help with this: when a story is falling short in some way, writers roll out these “rules” for what makes for good and bad prose. There are a bunch of these rulesets (think of Strunk & White’s Elements of Style), including some genre-specific ones like the Turkey City Lexicon:

https://www.sfwa.org/2009/06/18/turkey-city-lexicon-a-primer-for-sf-workshops/

A few years ago, I was teaching on the Writing Excuses cruise and a student said something like, “Hey, I know all these rules for writing good stories, but I keep reading these stories I really like and they break the rules. When can I break the rules?”

There’s a stock answer a writing teacher is supposed to give here: “Well, first you have to master the rules, then you can break them. You can’t improvise a jazz solo without first learning your scales.”

But in that moment, I thought back to the study with the posters and I had a revelation. These weren’t “rules” at all — they were just things that are hard and therefore easy to screw up. No one really knows why a story isn’t working, but they absolutely know when it doesn’t, and so, like the experimental subject called upon to explain their preferences, they reach for simple answers: “there’s too much exposition,” or “you don’t foreshadow the ending enough.”

There are lots of amazing stories that are full of exposition (readers of mine will not be shocked to learn I hold this view). There are lots of twist endings that are incredible — and not despite coming out of left field, but because of it.

The thing is, if you can’t say what’s wrong, but you know something is wrong, it’s perfectly reasonable to say, “Well, why don’t you try to replace or polish the things that are hardest to do right. Whatever it is that isn’t working here, chances are it’s the thing that’s hardest to make work”:

https://locusmag.com/2020/05/cory-doctorow-rules-for-writers/

But if I could change one thing about how we talk about writing and its “rules,” it would be to draw this distinction, characterizing certain literary feats as easier to screw up than others, having the humility to admit that we just don’t know what’s wrong with a story, and then helping the writer create probabilistically ranked lists of the things they could tinker with to try and improve their execution.

Which is all a very, very long-winded way to explain why I bought a giant, gorgeous art-print at Comic-Con this weekend, even though I have nowhere to hang it and had sworn I would absolutely not buy any art at the con.

I was walking the floor, peeking into booths, when I happened on Daniel Danger’s booth (#5034, if you’re at the con today), and I was just fuckin’ poleaxed by his work.

http://www.tinymediaempire.com/

[Image ID: Daniel Danger’s ‘It stopped being about the panic,’ depicting a ruined mansion interwoven with the skeletal branches of a tree, with a weeping statue and two human figures]

Now, see above. I can’t tell you why I loved this work so much (and that’s OK!), but boy oh boy did it speak to me. I just kind of stood there with my mouth open, slowly moving from print to print, admiring works like “It stopped being about the panic.”

https://tinymediaempire.myshopify.com/products/2022-sdcc-it-stopped-being-about-the-panic-v4

[Image ID: Daniel Danger’s ‘headlight in the path of,’ depicting a ruined mall with a pair of stags standing at the top of the escalator.]

On the surface, this is moody, post-apocalyptic stuff, heavily influenced by classic monster/haunter tropes, but it’s shot through with hope and renewal and the sense of something beautiful growing out of the ashes of something that has toppled. There’s real “(Nothing But) Flowers” energy in “Headlight in the path of”:

https://tinymediaempire.myshopify.com/products/sdcc2023-headlight-in-the-path-of-v2

[Image ID: Daniel Danger’s ‘We are no longer able to protect you,’ depicting a ruined factory with a coming-apart sign reading ‘We can no longer protect you forever,’ and a statue of a sword-bearing angel.]

Danger isn’t just a

very

talented artist, he’s also an

extremely

talented craftsman. As a recovering pre-press geek, I was (nearly) as impressed by the wild use of spot color and foils as I was by the art, like in “We are no longer able to protect you”:

https://tinymediaempire.myshopify.com/products/sdcc-2022-we-can-no-longer-protect-you-forever-v3

[Image ID: Daniel Danger’s ‘made of smoke and chains,’ depicting a ruined landscape with a pair of derelict subway trains at the foot of a hill on whose peak is a rotting mansion. A pair of human figures, holding hands, are approaching the mansion.]

Danger himself calls this work “weird sad hyper-detailed artwork of dreamy buildings of ghosts and trees,” which is a very apt description of this work, as you can see in “Made of smoke and chains”:

https://tinymediaempire.myshopify.com/products/made-of-smoke-and-chains-mist-preorder

So I looked at this stuff and sternly reminded myself that there was no way I was going to buy any art at the con. Then I walked away. I got about two aisles over when I realized I had to go back and ask permission to take some pictures so I could put a little link to Danger in my blog’s linkdump, which he graciously permitted:

https://www.flickr.com/search/?sort=interestingness-desc&safe_search=1&tags=danieldanger&min_taken_date=1687478400&max_taken_date=1690156799&view_all=1

[Image ID: Daniel Danger’s art print, ‘To all who home to this happy place,’ depicting a ruined Disneyland castle in a post-apocalyptic landscape with a statue of Walt and Mickey in the rubble.]

But then I got all the way ass over to the other ass end of the convention center and I realized I had to go back and buy one of these prints. Which I did, “To all who come to this happy place,” because fuckin’ wow:

https://tinymediaempire.myshopify.com/products/sdcc2023-this-happy-place-v6-foil

This was unequivocally the best thing I saw at this year’s SDCC, but I also got some very good news while there, namely, that Emil Ferris’s long, long-awaited My Favorite Thing Is Monsters Vol 2 is finally on the schedule from Fantagraphics:

https://www.fantagraphics.com/collections/emil-ferris/products/my-favorite-thing-is-monsters-book-two

It’s coming out in April, which gives you plenty of time to read volume one, which I called, “a haunting diary of a young girl as a dazzling graphic novel”:

https://memex.craphound.com/2017/06/20/my-favorite-thing-is-monsters-a-haunting-diary-of-a-young-girl-as-a-dazzling-graphic-novel/

If you are or were a monster kid or a haunter, this is your goddamned must-read of the summer. It’s a fully queered, stunning memoir for anyone whose erotic imagination intersected with Famous Monsters of Filmland.

(Also, if you’re that kind of person and you’re in the region, you should know about Midsummer Scream, a giant haunter show in Long Beach; I’ll be there on Sunday, July 30, for a panel about the Ghost Post, the legendary Haunted Mansion puzzle-boxes I helped make:

https://midsummerscream.org/

Now Favorite Thing book two was the best news, but the best experience was watching Felicia Day get her Inkpot Award and give a moving speech:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Inkpot_Award

And then learning that Raina Telgemeier also got an Inkpot; I love Raina’s work so much:

https://memex.craphound.com/2016/10/04/ghosts-raina-telgemeiers-upbeat-tale-of-death-assimilation-and-cystic-fibrosis/

[Image ID: A photo of me with Chuck Tingle, who wears a pink bag over his head on which he has written ‘Love is Real.’]

To cap yesterday off, I also ran into @ChuckTingle, which is as fine a capstone to a successful con as anyone could ask for:

https://www.flickr.com/photos/doctorow/53065500076/in/dateposted/

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/23/but-i-know-what-i-like/#daniel-danger

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darling-i-read-it · 9 months

Text

Burns

Charlie Swan x fem!reader, Carlisle Cullen x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: age gap (for both men, both are legal but carlisle is like 223297493 years old so do with that what you’d like lol), burns (second and first degree), doctors office, me knowing too much about twilight

Author’s Note: IM WRITING A PART 2 RN BUT WANTED TO SEE IF YOU GUYS LIKED THIS <3 I literally randomly had a burst of inspo to write this and i lowkey love it…

Summary: You’re a waitress at the local diner to pay off tuition in the summer. You have a small crush on the chief of police who comes in to get his coffee from you. You thought that was all it was until you met the resident doctor when you have a mishap and now you’re stuck between two incredibly charming men that both have a little crush on you.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

Forks, Washington was under a near constant cover of rain. You were aware of it when you woke up in the morning, prepared to see the dreary weather that greeted you through the window. You could smell the rain on the pavement before it came, see it in the clouds as they hovered above. You were always prepared for it, always ready for it.

Today, the sun was out. Summer usually calls for something more temperate. You found that those days weren’t necessarily unwelcome, but never your favorite. Everyone went outside when it was sunny. You could see people you hadn’t seen in ages. You never made an effort to see them in the first place for a reason. There was an uncharacteristic amount of skin showing. It may only be mid 70s but everyone suddenly acted like the ocean water was a relief to their burning skin.

You sweat easily, especially in the diner. The Lodge had little to no air conditioning and the sun brought people in droves. Everyone wanted a bite to eat. They all remembered the diner had milkshakes. It was never a great mix for a waitress.

You turned the corner on your heel, giving a quaint smile to Cora, your coworker. She looked like she was going to melt away.

“Do you think anyones gonna leave early today?” she asked quietly behind the counter. You shook your head. She had the coffee pot in her hand and was holding it tightly so it didn’t spill. You looked around the packed diner, laughter bubbling from sections where it normally was silent. You shook your head, giving her a sad look.

“We’re in for one.”

“I should’ve called out,” she muttered. “You should’ve called out. This place needs us.” You shook your head.

“You’ve gotta put food on the table,” you reminded her. She had a kid who was going into middle school. You had met her when Cora brought her in, her headphones stuck in her ears and reading some trashy teen novel.

“Always the voice of reason,” she muttered. “Plus, you gotta pay tuition.”

“Don’t remind me.”

You were going to college in Seattle but always worked the summers back in Forks. You loved the little town despite its insanity. You found that most of it was quiet, even on louder days. Plus, it was always easy to find a job back home. You were practically shoved the waitress apron when you returned this summer. You had been doing it since you graduated high school, always trying to find something to keep yourself occupied. You were coming upon your senior year in college and the extra money helped immensely.

“Hey, your boyfriends here,” Cora teased. She pushed herself off the counter to refill someone’s coffee cup. You furrowed your brows in confusion even though you knew exactly who she meant.

You watched as chief of police Charlie Swan walked through the doors with a clink of the bell above his head. He met your eyes and gave you an awkward half wave, which you returned slightly more enthusiastically. He walked up to the counter, squeezing between the people sitting there. Someone said hello to him and he gave them a nod in acknowledgment.

“You guys are busy today huh?” he questioned, scoffing.

“Just a bit,” you admitted. His presence never ceased to bring butterflies to your stomach. Maybe you were harboring a small/not so small crush on the sheriff but you tried your best not to show it. You assured Cora it was just something silly for you to feel as you passed through your work day. Still, her eyes lingered on yours as she went around the counter to greet someone else because she knew you were busy. “It’s the sun.”

“Brings out all the loonies,” he said.

“I imagine you’re busy out there too.” He was always scanning around to make sure no one was doing anything wrong. His eyes flicked from you to the people beside him, then back to you.

“Taking my 15.”

“Just to see lil ol me?” you teased. Even as the words left your mouth you felt self conscious of them. This time though, he gave a half smile.

“You make the best coffee I’ve ever had,” he promised. You tried not to get flustered.

“Well, it looks like you need a double today, Sheriff.”

“Charlie, how many times do I have to tell you?” You rolled your eyes. He leaned against the diner counter even though there were no seats. You turned around, every other table lost in your mind. Cora would help you out until he left.

“Well Charlie, it might be too hot for a hot coffee. You could’ve gone to one of those fancy coffee shops,” you offered, grabbing a coffee pot.

“Yeah, can you imagine me ordering there? I have a hard enough time with you.”

“I think I get what you mean by now,” you joked. You poured him a cup and grabbed three sugars and two creams. “Anything else?”

“You always this quick with your service?” he questioned, looking at the people down the line who hadn’t gotten their food.

“I’m just the coffee girl with a pretty smile. I don’t control the food orders.” You handed him a stirring stick as he opened his sugar packets. “Plus, you’re the chief of police Charlie. I don’t wanna get arrested.” He chuckled, a real genuine laugh.

“I think I’ll let you off for this one.” You smiled at your success. The laugh was guaranteed to be the highlight of your shift.

“Thanks Charlie.” You turned back to the kitchen which was starting to call things out. “Anything else?”

“No ma’am.” He grabbed some cash out of his wallet. “Keep the change.”

“You’re my favorite customer Charlie,” you joked at his more than generous tip of 100%. He did a little salute with his finger and raised the cup to you.

“Go do your job otherwise you’re bound to get more angry customers than I am.”

You nodded once and bowed out of the conversation gracefully. You grabbed the food from behind you and started to bring it out. Cora gave you a look as you passed her, the smile plastered on your face a clear tell of your conversation.

“Peach cobbler,” you said to one of your regulars. She was a small old lady who always came in on Saturdays, at exactly the same time. You enjoyed talking with her and catching up on her life. She got the same thing each time and the consistency was something you appreciated. “Sorry it’s been slower today Miss. Heidi. The heat has the whole of Forks out!” She shook her head, brushing you off.

“No worries at all,” she assured you. “It’s not like I’m not gonna come back.” You shared in her shaky laughter. She picked up her fork just as you were about to leave and pointed it at Charlie. “You making heart eyes at the chief over there sweetheart?” You flushed immediately. Maybe you weren’t so great at hiding it.

“Maybe. But keep your mouth shut Heidi,” you whispered with a smile. She chuckled. Her eyes lingered on Charlie who was finishing his coffee already. He had started a conversation with the man beside him. Charlie seemed to know everyone in town.

“Aren’t you a little young for him?” You rolled your eyes.

“It’s perfectly constenting and legal,” you assured her. “I’m plenty older than his daughter if that’s what you’re gonna say.”

“I was gonna mention.” Her eyes wrinkled at the edges, shaking her head. Her movements didn’t feel like she was disagreeing with you. More so that she was gossiping with a friend, just girls being girls. “He had his heart broken by her mother, you know. He’s a good man.”

“Is that your consent Heidi? Because I don’t even know if he feels the same way.” Your voice was lighthearted. She grabbed your hand, her saggy skin feeling comforting.

“I wouldn’t worry too much sweetheart.” You scrunched your face a little and shook off her words. You were still on the clock.

“Enjoy your peach cobbler Heidi.”

You brushed your hair out of your face. The sun had finally subsided for the evening, giving way for the clouds. You embraced their presence, appreciating the way that the cool air felt on your overworked skin. Cora was still hanging around after her shift, waiting for her husband to come pick her up. You sat on the back steps of The Lodge, watching the trees sway.

“The air feels so crisp,” you muttered.

“You say the weirdest things,” she grumbled, laughing. She was leaning against the building. “It’s the trees.”

“I know.” You were going to leave right after work and finally drive back home but you needed a moment to sit and enjoy the day. It had been a long shift. Cora and you were officially trauma bonded.

“How was the chief?”

“Good,” you promised. “Sweet.”

“A guy can be sweet and catch criminals?”

“He’s assertive,” you argued. When Cora laughed she did it with her whole chest.

“Honey, you’re down bad.” You rolled your eyes and stood up. Cora’s eyes followed you as you did so, turning back to the door inside the diner. “You’re goin back into that hellhole?”

“Forgot my phone,” you said. “Also, I am not. It’s a work crush. I’m entitled to one! Just like you like the produce guy!”

“I do not like the produce guy. I think he’s hot. Big difference!” You rolled your eyes as you opened the door back inside. The heat hit you again, unpleasantly. You had to weave through the cooks to get back to the front. You couldn’t remember when you had put your phone down. You were making a phone call during your break. Maybe you had left it on hte steps outside after all?

“Hey Jerry?!” you called to the cook in the back.

“What?!”

“You seen my phone?”

“No! All I’ve seen are burgers!” You rolled your eyes harder this time and dipped underneath the counter to see if you had put it with the sugars and stuff. You let out an annoyed groan when it wasn’t there.

You turned too quick and ran right into the closing waitress. She was holding a hot pot of coffee and effectively spilled it all over you. You gasped involuntarily, the feeling of scorching coffee seeping through your clothes. The gasp turned into a seethe as you packed up. You could hear her speaking, the high pitched, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” reverberating off your eardrums. You had dropped coffee on yourself before. All you could think of was that you needed a towel and some cold water.

You turned on a dime and walked back to the kitchen. You turned on the sink back there and fumbled your hand around for a towel to use.

“Jerry, towel,” you mumbled, the burning skin now setting into a tingle. He turned his head around and saw you. He started to fumble around. You walked in front of him to grab the towel and just barely lost your balance, causing your hand to fly up onto the table.

Right onto the stove.

This time you yelped. The coffee was already forgotten as there was now more of an issue at hand.

“Woah dollface!” Jerry exclaimed. He grabbed your wrist because you were just staring at your red hand. You had put your entire palm down. You looked up at him, tears staining your eyes from pain, and he brought you over to the sink.

“Oh fuck,” you groaned as he put it under the cold water. It didn’t subside any pain, just added another sensation. “Jerry that hurts!”

“Hey Y/N, I have your phone in my apron.” Cora came through the door to witness you breathing heavily next to the sink, Jerry the cook practically holding you down.

“She burned her hand on the stove,” he explained.

“She spilled coffee on me,” you blubbered childishly. You could feel all your body parts at once, like you were on fire. You had no brain power to say anything else.

“Oh Jesus,” Cora muttered. She rushed forward, grabbing your wrist to look at it. “You gotta get this checked out honey.” You gave her a somber looking face. “I know, I know. I’ll take you. Where’s your car keys?” You reached in your apron with your non burnt hand. It was soaking wet from the coffee.

“Is she okay?” the waitress asked, sticking her head through the window.

“She burned her hand on the stove,” Jerry said.

“She what?!”

Cora put her hand on your back, leading you out the door. You took deep breaths, in through your nose and out through your mouth. You were fine. You were gonna be fine.

“I’ll be okay,” you whispered. “You have to g-”

“I’ll have Steven do it,” she said. Her husband. You gave her a look of pure thankfulness as she helped you into the passenger seat of her car.

“I really don’t have to go to the hospital over this,” you tried to say.

“I know you don’t. But I think it’s safer than waiting.” You put your head against your headrest.

Cora dragged you by your free arm to the front desk. She was the one who gave your name and your information as you stood beside her, holding your hand. You looked like a mess, given the coffee all over you. You were sure this could all just be fixed by some water and ointment from the store but Cora insisted.

She rambled on about how a family member hadn’t gone in for a burn and it ended up being more severe then they thought, damaging below the skin. Her words were not comforting.

Eventually they called you back to be looked at. You sat on an exam table with a thin paper on top. A nurse had come in to check on you and give you something for your hand while you waited for the doctor.

You were in a row of beds. Cora pulled the curtains aside to give you privacy.

“I really don’t think that’s necessary,” you said.

“They don't get to know all your business. HIPAA or whatever.” You squinted.

“I don’t think-”

“Ladies.” Carlisle Cullen stepped through the curtain at the open side. He was holding a clipboard, a charming smile plastered on his face. Your breath hitched at the sight of him. He was gorgeous. “Y/N, I hear you burned your hand.” You nodded.

“And her chest,” Cora muttered. She must have noticed Carlisle’s looks as well. Or maybe she just noticed your reaction to him. You cleared your throat.

“I had coffee spilled on me.”

“No, you should check it out. It’s bad.” You gave a look. Carlisle’s smile remained, shaking his head. You had heard of him but never had a reason to come out and see him. You wouldn’t even call this a valid reason.

“Sounds like an awful case of bad luck.” You nodded. “Can I take a look?” He sat on a spinny chair and pulled it towards you. You extended your hand to him.

“I’m gonna go call Steven,” she said to you. You nodded. She patted your back, her eyes lingering on your doctor even as she left. Carlisle held your hand in his, gently looking it over. You looked down at him.

“A stove did this?”

“Yeah. It was dumb,” you promised. “I lost my balance looking for a rag for the coffee burn.”

“And that’s okay?” You nodded.

“I think. I mean, my hand feels way worse,” you assured him.

“Your friend seems to think otherwise.”

“Cora’s dramatic by nature.” He laughed gently.

“Well the stove fought back.” He wheeled backwards towards the table beside your bed. “It looks like second degree burns on your hand. I’ll send you home with some ointment for it and you’ll wanna wrap it up so that you don’t get it caught on your clothes or anything.” You nodded. “I’ll wrap it for you first, show you how to do it.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” He stood up and fumbled in the desks drawer. “Are you sure you don’t want me to check on the coffee burns?” He glanced back at you. You looked down at your shirt. It had mostly gotten your stomach. You could still feel pain there, probably driven by the fact you never got to clean it off.

“If you think it’ll help?”

“Stomach burns are interesting just because of their placement. It’s harder to wrap them. I think it would be beneficial for me to make sure they’re only first degree, if anything.” You nodded. You would listen to him read the phone book.

“Okay.” He walked back over. Before even touching your shirt he made eye contact with you.

“Only if you’re comfortable. I can wait till your friend comes back if you want me to.” You shook your head.

“I’m okay!” you promised. You cleared your throat and grabbed the hem of your shirt. You carefully lifted it up over your torso, holding it just above the wet spot. Carlisle’s eyes went down to your body.

“You said the hand hurt more?”

“By far.”

“Can I touch you?” Please. You cleared your throat again.

“Sure.” He put an icy hand on your hip, lightly brushing your burn with his thumb.

“How much does that hurt? Scale one to ten?”

“Five.” He applied more pressure.

“Now?”

“Seven. Your hands are really cold, which could be worsening the effects,” you joked. He chuckled, his lips turning up a bit.

“Sorry about that.” He backed up a bit. You put your shirt back down. “Those are first degree burns. It only hit in some spots. Should feel numb or touchy for a couple days. You can put the ointment there too but you shouldn’t have to wrap it up.”

“The hand needs it.”

“The hand needs it,” he agreed. He had put some stuff on the counter, which he now took in his hands. He squeezed something out a bottle and put a bit of it on his finger, taking your hand back in his. “Let me know if the pressure is too much.”

You watched him, your free hands fingers curled under the bed you were sitting on. He gently covered your hand, using such a light touch that it was like he was barely there.

“You’re good at this.”

“It’s my job,” he said, smiling. “Are you from out of town? I don’t think I’ve had you in here before.”

“Just lucky,” you quipped. “I go to college in Seattle too so I’m usually out there.” He nodded slowly.

“Fancy.”

“The drive back is beautiful.” He nodded slowly. His hand lingered on yours as he examined his work. “So is this town.”

“Do you work at the diner?”

“Yeah! That’s where I got this beauty.” He scooted back, grabbing the bandages.

“I think my son’s seen you there. He’s graduating high school in a year and likes his seclusion,” he explained.

“Son?” you asked.

“Edward.”

“No, I’m just stunned you have a child. You look far too young,” you said, laughing incredibly. He grinned sheepishly. You tried not to think of him being married or the lack of ring on his finger.

“He’s technically my foster son,” he described.

“I see. Do you do it all on your own?” You winced. That was aggressive. “I don’t mean to pry.” “It’s alright,” he said, shaking his head, completely cool. “Yes, they’re all under my care. I haven’t found the right one quite yet. Plus, she’d have to take on more than a couple stragglers with me.” His eyes flicked up to yours. They met for a moment longer than they should have. You had to look away.

“Sounds like a task.”

“It’s definitely not for everyone.” He tightened your bandage. “There. I’ll send you home with some of this, it’ll be sent to wherever you get your prescriptions.” He stepped back from you. “Try to be careful around stoves next time.”

“Yes sir.” He gave you one more look, a kind hearted smile and then was on his way. You followed him until he was gone out of view. You were glad he hadn’t checked your pulse because you were sure it was beating out of your chest. Cora came around the corner.

“He’s too old for you too,” she said. You laughed dryly, shaking your head. You could practically still feel his touch on your hand. So gentle.

“You’ll learn to get used to it,” you teased her. She rolled her eyes. “Were you waiting out there the whole time?”

“Wanted to give you and Doctor Dreamy some alone time.”

“You’re such a wingwoman!”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell the Sheriff.”

Part 2

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