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#until they could barely be considered young adults
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Who wants to talk about Jackson and Jillson?
Because they are just so strange and awesome. In the books we don't get to see much of their relationship, but I love how unique it is in the show!!
They way they are so in-sync! And how they trade off finishing each other's sentences, to the point where when they do have a disagreement it throws off the whole scene. They support each other pretty much unconditionally, which is fantastic! (They honestly might have the most stable relationship of the whole show, because the only time I can think of them fighting is that one short bit in season two where they tell Curtain about the sleepers)
The way they love each other is so cool, especially when you consider the backstory of them being kidnapped and latching onto each other because they were taken to the Institute at the same time. They'll be right behind the other no matter what, but they're also not afraid to be honest. There are a few times that we see Jillson speaking her mind in a way that doesn't necessarily agree with Jackson, but he takes it in stride and they work it out.
And even though it's incredibly sweet, you can see how lost they are without one another. The fear in Jackson's eyes when Curtain tells him to become his own person and learn who he is, and who does he turn to? Jillson, even though she's as confused and scared as he is. The two of them literally don't know who they are without Curtain, and so they return to the only safety they know: each other.
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secretsandwriting · 13 days
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heyyyy ryyyyy <333
since ur requests are open i thought id go ahead and ask if you're mayhaps open to anything for batmom? i don't have a completely solid idea but maybe smn like batmom has been getting threats or maybe hate or smn from somebody and everyone's reactions and how they get hella protective?
obv no pressure and you definitely do not have to write this
hope you have a great day bb
Heyyyyy, so this grew hands and wrote itself, I hope you enjoy it. It did end up with a lot of backstory.
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You knew this would happen. Once your relationship with Bruce got out there would be an influx of love and hate. You also knew that everyone else knew that as well. It was common knowledge than anyone around a celebrity of sorts would experience that. 
Of course you did the normal things, turned off most notifications and only looked through areas online you knew would mostly be safe. You blocked tags and and only followed people you knew or ones who didn’t post about drama. 
When you did stumble onto hate, you moved on. If someone kept sending you nasty messages you blocked them, when they made other accounts to keep sending the same things, you changed your settings so only those you followed could message you. 
It wasn’t something you wanted to deal with but it was something you could handle. Something you started mentally preparing yourself for when Bruce’s attention on you lasted more than 4 dates, even more so when you caught yourself daydreaming about him.
You were not going to let random bitter people on the internet destroy your happiness like they did their own. Your family however, wanted to destroy what was left of your haters' happiness. Something you were trying to curb, but trying to tell a family of vigilantes who considered you the best mom in existence not to destroy your haters was like talking to a brick wall. Over the years, you had gotten used to it. It barely even registered anymore. But there had been a recent influx of the hate and while it didn’t bother you, it bothered the rest of your family. None of them could stand people talking bad about their mom.
While you hadn’t been there while the older ones were young, the second you had introduced yourself to them, you had taken a very important role in their lives. None of them realizing it at first. All of them had gotten used to the random women Bruce brought home that it took a little while for them to realize how important you were. 
Dick wasn’t sure at first. Thinking you were just another girlfriend that wouldn’t last long. So he didn’t really interact with you much. Ignoring your existence when it wasn’t too rude, or at least obviously rude. Until one night when he was staying at the manor and had a nightmare about his parents death. 
Bruce had an open bed policy. As long as there was still room for him, his bed was open. A policy he had started when Dick had gotten old enough he was worried he wouldn’t be allowed to go when he had a nightmare. Bruce had always reminded all his kids, that nightmares don’t go away just because you’re older and that needing comfort wasn’t something they would outgrow. 
The thing was, you were there. Girlfriends didn’t mind when children did it but they never liked it when his adult kids did it. The shaking in his hands and the way he saw them fall in the darkness of every blink told him the only way he was getting any sleep was with someone. 
Hopefully he could just slip into Bruce’s side and leave before you woke up. That was the plan until he found Damian on Bruce’s side and you had been pulled closer to Bruce taking up what was left. You moved a little and Dick took that as his sign to deal with it himself until he heard you whisper his name. He hummed so you knew it was him and not some random stranger standing over Bruce’s side of the bed. 
“Nightmare?”
“Yeah.”
“Come on.” You lifted the blanket next to you, “Bruce told me you guys come here when you have nightmares. There's plenty of room over here for you.” Dick hesitated for a second before giving in. He needed sleep anyway. You weren’t when you said there was plenty of room, Dick had most of your half of the bed. Once he had settled on his side, facing away from you, he felt you pull the blanket over his shoulders. 
“Night Dick, sleep well.” For some reason, that was what did it. Once the tears started they didn’t stop. Silent sobs made him shudder and he felt one of your hands gently rubbing his back. “Oh Dick.” There was no pity in your tone and he found himself rolling over and curling into you. Your chin resting on his head while you rubbed his back. 
The next day, he followed you around like a puppy. Your side of the bed became his favorite when he had nightmares and it wasn’t long before he turned to you for general comfort over anything.
Jason met you at his grave. Neither of you exchanged words, but he caught something in your gaze he didn’t quite understand. He also wasn’t sure why you were at his grave either, he didn’t know you when he was younger. 
When he saw the Gotham News post about Bruce and Your 2nd anniversary, it brought more questions than answers. Why were you at his grave alone? Let alone longer than a few seconds. It was an odd way to gain more of Bruce’s affections. 
Every Tuesday you would be there, leaving flowers and talking softly to the stone. Every time you left, you would smile and nod, the look in your eyes he couldn’t figure out was still there. Every time he would strain to heat what you were saying and only be able yo a few words here and there. 
6 months into it, the routine changed. You brought a blanket and Basket with your usual flowers. You did what you normally did with the flowers but instead of talking to the stone you waved him over. When he didn’t move, you stopped what you were doing and looked at him. 
“Jason Todd, I have been keeping your secret for 6 months. Helping me spread this blanket and having lunch won’t change it.” He stared at you while you waited expectantly. Eventually when he could get himself to move, he came over and helped. He sat down where you motioned for him too, all while trying to figure out how you knew.
“Bruce mentioned this used to be your favorite when you were younger so I asked Alfred to teach me how to make it. I hope it's up to your standards.” He looked at the plate of food you handed him. It was almost overflowing with food, all of which reminded him of the good times back at the manor before he died. “Alfred also sent your favorite cookies when he heard I would be eating at your grave.” The bag of cookies was placed next to the basket, within easy reach.
“Why?” Was all Jason managed to choke out around the lump in his throat.
“I decided early on in life, no matter who I was with, I would love their family as my own. My grandfather hated my grandmothers side and it caused a lot of pain in all the generations. I decided I would never do that to another family.” Jason found himself back in control enough to start eating. 
“So when I started dating Bruce and he told me about you, I decided to treat you like you were my own. Even though I had never met you and you were dead. Most of what that meant was keeping your grave clean and always making sure there were fresh flowers. While I did that, I would tell you everything that was going on.”
“How did you know it was me?”
“Your eyes, they may be a different color but they looked too similar. So I did a little digging and found pictures of your biological pictures to place the face shape it matched. I think however you look more like Bruce then either of them.”
“Are you going to tell them?”
“As much as I would love to. It’s your choice. You’ve been keeping this to yourself for a reason. If I can help you get to a place to tell them, I would love to. But I won’t say a word until you're ready. However, I would like to keep having lunch with you.” 
A year later, Jason reintroduced himself to the rest of the family a lot calmer than originally planned and was glued to your side anytime he felt overwhelmed that night. Every Tuesday after that, lunch was scheduled.
Tim was nervous when it came to you. He was still living in the manor so he saw you more than the older two. You always seemed nice and respected his privacy but Bruce was always with you so you obviously would. 
It was when he wasn’t around that worried Tim. Bruce attracted golddiggers and they were always mean when Bruce wasn’t there. When you were given a copy of the key, Time braced himself. 
Of course he knew that if he told Bruce anything that happened like that, Bruce would break it off. He had always told them that they came first. But he also knew that Bruce liked you a lot. All the other ones Bruce liked a lot that turned out to be horrible, he broked it off. Tim had seen how it had made him upset and he really hated doing that to him. Maybe he could deal with it for once. 
So when Bruce left for a business trip, Tim was Expecting the worst. What he didn’t expect was for you to knock on his door and ask if you could join him. When he agreed and stepped back so you could come in. He expected you to go to his bed or his desk chair not, the oversized bean bag on the floor.
“I have a question for you but you can’t tell Bruce yet.” Here it comes. “What would a funny way to tell him I know he’s Batman?” Tim wasn’t expecting that one. “I was thinking a lot of batpuns but his paranoia is too bad for that.”
“How did you figure it out?” You walked him through your process and didn’t say anything as he wrote parts of it down. Once you finished explaining the process for Bruce, you explained any way it was modified in figuring out their identities.
“Who do you think I am?”
“Red Robin.” Tim found himself getting excited. 
“You know those notes you leave him in his office?” You nodded. “You should leave those in the Batcave.” You considered it but your thinking was interrupted but Tim shouting. 
“No! One night when we’re all in the cave, you could bring some snacks!” 
“You just want snacks when he’s lecturing you don’t you?”
“Maybe..”
“Alright, but you have to tell the others so they can tell me what snack they want.”
So Tim slowly and carefully went through all his siblings, letting them know you figured it out, Bruce didn’t know, and what the plan is. Every time he relayed a snack to you he’d watch how carefully you’d write it out to make sure you had it correct or look up recipes if you couldn’t find it in stores. 
Two weeks later, Tim was the one who sent the signal in the middle of a lecture everyone was receiving and he got a front row seat to see Bruce’s face when you walked in and handed out snacks before giving him a kiss and telling him to be nice and leaving. 
Any other worries were left in the dust when you helped him win the nerf war for the best seat in the home theater. He thoroughly enjoyed his spot next to you while Bruce swore revenge from the other side of the room.
Damian treated you politely but that was it. His mother was still alive and he didn’t want another one, one was more than enough. Not only that, but you were weird. 
One time when you were over, you found one of his report cards. Immediately you were praising him. He didn’t understand why, he had basically failed one of his classes with an A-. You should be disappointed like his mother would be, not hanging it up on the fridge and telling people not to touch it. Definitely not taking him out for ice cream and calling him so smart. He definitely shouldn’t be feeling any pride when he walked past it, but he still was. 
When he was practicing his violin and Messed up, you were supposed to tell him to stop failing, that he should be better. Not smiling at him and telling him he’s making good progress. You should be telling him that he should have memorized that piece in a day. He shouldn’t be feeling any pride when he finally does memorize it, it took him 4 days to learn it.
When he was struggling to learn a language, you were supposed to tell him to work harder. He could do better, after all, he already knew so many. Instead you just smiled and recommended a break to refresh his mind. 
When he snapped at you in Arabic, he expected you to be upset since you didn’t know what he said and it was obviously not something nice. Instead you set the rule that if he was going to use Arabic to speak to you when upset, that he had to teach it to you and if what he said wasn’t something you had learned yet, he had to tell you in english. When he told you what it meant, you didn’t even get upset. He definitely shouldn’t be as excited as he was when you actually started learning. 
So many more little things piled up, leaving Damian confused. The differences between how you and his mother treated him was so big he didn’t know how to process it, he liked you and all the little things made him happy in a way he hadn’t really felt. But he still loved his mom, When he had enough of it, he asked you to stop. He still wanted to love his mom. Once again, you did something you weren’t supposed to.
“Oh Damian, I’m not trying to replace your mom nor am I trying to make you feel like you can’t love her or she doesn’t love you. Your mom and I show our love in different ways and its ok for you to love or like both of us. You mother loves you and she will always be allowed in your life if thats what you want.” You weren’t supposed to do that, but Damian was really glad you did.
Barbara wasn’t sure how you would react to her. She wasn’t just Bruce’s kid. She had a loving family she went back to every night. Most people weren’t really a fan of that, one of Bruce’s past girlfriends had some strong and hurtful things to say about it. 
When you took her for a day out, she found herself warming up to you but still waiting for the other shoe to drop. One of the new places you had planned to go, didn’t have wheelchair access. Like all the other girlfriends who had done this, she expected you to be annoyed that your plans had to change or you would just leave her outside while you shopped. 
You didn’t seem to notice her hesitation, just looking at what was next on your list and starting the trip there. When Barbara stared a little longer at a new movie that was in theaters, tickets and snacks were bought and you listed to all the lore she told you about before it started.
While it had been a nice day, Barbara wasn’t convinced. One day was easy to fake. Sure she had lots of fun, but Barbara was used to fakes when it came to Bruce’s girlfriends. Of course she wasn’t complaining about you being nice, she just wasn’t sure how long it would last. 
“Did you hear about that boutique?” She looked up from her food to look at her dad. “That new one that you tried to go to with Bruce’s girlfriend? Well there was a report that it didn’t meet the Americans with Disabilities act and the boutique is in trouble. People are speculating they’ll have to close down.”
Later that night, Barbara looked into it. They were in trouble, pretty big trouble from the looks of it. Towards the end of the article she found the name of the person who reported it, she wasn’t sure who she was expecting. Not you for sure but the Name Y/n L/n took her by surprise and filled her chest with feelings she couldn’t describe. 
The boutique ended up closing but a new one opened. Once it was open, you were the first to ask her to go. That weird feeling came back when she wheeled herself up the ramp and through the door you held open for her. Later that night, in the privacy of her room. She decided she liked you. 
Steph seemed like she liked you, she acted like she liked you, she didn’t really like you. Sure you were nice, Bruce loved you, the others were warming up to you, but she wasn’t sure how to feel about you. So she stuck with not actually liking you but pretending to. 
So when she was around you, it was all smiles and jokes. She wasn’t a big fan of it all but she did it because she knew you were important to Bruce and that was enough of a reason for her. She knew Bruce and the others could see through the act but as long as you couldn’t, that was enough. 
When Bruce announced he had to leave for a business trip right before she could hand him the parents visit for one of her AP classes, something the new teacher liked doing. She tucked the paper away. When Tim gave her a questioning look, she shook her head and later swore him to silence. 
Every time she heard someone mention their parents were going, she felt a pang of jealousy in her chest. Every time Tim mentioned bringing it up to you, she swore him into silence again. It wouldn’t be the first time no one showed up for her. She was however thankful you wouldn’t be at the manor as much so she didn’t have to pretend to like you.
When the day arrived, Steph was not having a good day. School dragged on slowly. Slower than normal. When school finally ended, she had to sit in the classroom and watch everyone else that was in her class leave and the parents of her classmates show up while no one was there or coming for her.
Someone sat in the seat next to her, she expected another family member of one of her classmates. Definitely not you. She couldn’t return your smile, too unsure of how you found out, the fact you actually showed up, and how she felt about you being there. You leaned a little closer so that the others in the room wouldn’t easily overhear. 
“I know I’m not your parent and someone you just pretend to like so if you want me to leave I will. But I figured someone was better then no one. Oh, and Tim wanted me to tell you he didn’t spill. Your teacher called the manor because no one had RSVPed for you and I answered it.”
That night, as Steph showed off all her hard work to you, the charade fell. She actually enjoyed her time with you and the boost of pride as you oohed and ahhed over all her projects and listened to her explain all the little details. That night, Steph realized, she didn’t need to keep pretending. She liked you, until she found out you didn’t like her favorite show but a nerf war solved that. 
Cass could tell you were different then the other girlfriends, your body language as you interacted with all of them showed it. However that didn’t mean she knew how to interact with you.
She had learned that she was fairly hard for new people to interact with. She also knew she had trouble interacting with people she wasn’t fighting. So it wasn’t a surprise when it started rocky. 
What was a surprise, was when you found out she was still having trouble reading and writing, you stepped in to help. Well, that wasn’t the surprising part, a lot of girlfriends did that. The surprising part was the amount of patience you had when it was only the two of you. 
When one method didn’t help, you tried another. Never once did you snap at her or call her a name. Everytime you got frustrated you would stop and look at her, say something along the lines of “If I had as much trouble with this as you do, I wouldn’t want to keep trying. You're doing absolutely amazing! I’ll keep looking for other ideas, but for now, lets take a break and get a treat.” 
Cass wasn’t sure why that always made her feel better, but it did. Every treat you brought was something you made just for the tutoring sessions and it always reminded her of what Alfred had told her once. “Something made with love for you will always taste better.”
And when a method that made it a little easier to learn was found, Cass found herself smiling along with your cheers. Bad days where she couldn’t seem to make any progress were always met with the same excitement, cheers, patience, and treats that all the others were. 
Cass still wasn’t sure of what to think of you exactly, but she knew she liked you and that you cared about her.
So when Tim saw the new rise in hate, a sibling meeting was called. They all went through each site, blood boiling as they saw what people were saying about their new parent. Plans were made, declarations of war were ready, and anger fueled all of them. Bruce could tell something was going on, but he wasn’t sure what it was and as long as it didn’t get out of had, he wasn’t sure if he had the energy to deal with it. 
War was declared in an interview by Steph. The lady was asking questions when the topic switched to Bruce, then you. The reporter was clearly trying to subtly find some dirt on you and Steph was not going to stand for it.
“Oh yeah! Y/n! She’s the best!” She put on her best press face. Trying to hide her anger over the hidden intent. She didn’t have to lie or act when talking about you but the change in the lady’s face going to disappointment when she didn’t get anything she wanted was making her look very punchable. 
“She’s always showing up for us and making sure we’re doing ok. If Y/n and Bruce were to break up, I think most of us would go with Y/n.” The way the lady kept trying to get anything really got on her nerves and Steph decided she needed to get out of there before she started using the lady’s face for target practice. You wouldn’t like that.
Cass was the first one to resort to violence. They had asked a thinly veiled question, basically asking if you were a golddigger. So she punched him in the nose and leaned down to flip the camera off. She hated interviews already but that made it so much worse. She hoped you wouldn’t be too upset with her punching the guy though.
Jason, surprisingly enough. Did not get violent… physically. He did however curse one out and threaten him when the reporter implied you were forcing them to say nice things. When the reporter kept pressing Jason broke his mic and told him if he ever heard him talking bad about you again, a broken mic would be the last of his worries. Jason knew you would be disappointed but he had held back, he didn’t shoot the guy like he wanted.
Tim threw his coffee at one reporter because he heard them say you were nothing but a regular person who didn’t deserve any attention. He then took over her segment, threatening the company to air it or he would make sure they went bankrupt. Once he finished his threats, anything he said was praising you name. Telling everyone how amazing you were and how much they all loved you.
Barbara made it a point to bring up everything you did for the community when they tried to throw some shade at you in an interview. She had documents to prove it and hacked their systems to add them into the interview so they couldn’t claim it was fake. She also made sure to run over his foot when she left. 
Dick punched a reporter when they tried to ask him what you were really like behind closed doors. He told them the truth, that you were just as good, kind, patient, and loving behind closed doors as you were out in public. He didn’t throw a punch until the reporter disregarded that as asked again because she couldn’t be that good. Dick knew a lecture would be coming once you saw, but he would rather sit through a lecture then let anyone tarnish your name.
Damian spent 10 minutes cursing and threatening a reporter in Arabic when they asked him if you had ever hurt him. When he was done, he told them in english, that if he ever got asked that question again, he would impale them. He knew you were going to make him sit down and translate everything and the general response you would give but he didn’t care, no one speaks bad about either of his mothers.
Bruce figured out what was going on after Steph’s interview. He saw the ones where they assaulted or threatened the reporters and made sure his lawyers were on standby to keep the kids out of trouble. After all, he had seen more than they had. 
He had watched as you tried to connect with Dick early on, how you worked hard to try and get somewhere. He had woken up before you when Dick had come in that night and heard how you handled it. He had woken up the next morning to find you holding Dick close, like you were trying to protect him from the nightmares. He had seen how you never turned Dick down when he wanted comfort, no matter how serious or silly the matter, and he had heard your excitement when you told him Dick liked you.
Bruce had seen the way you never missed a visit to Jason’s grave, on a visit of his own, he saw how much care you showed the stone marking it as his lost son. While he hadn’t been sure why it was alway the same time on Tuesday, he didn;t mention it. He felt the way you would sob in his arms after each visit, a year after the tradition started, you always said you had promised not to tell and he watched as you kept that promise even if it tore you to pieces. Once the shock and tears wore off for a little bit, he could see the trust that Jason had in you.
He heard the way you questioned if you should have a key to the manor, you didn’t want to make Tim uncomfortable in his own home, or how you questioned if you should visit while he was gone. Not wanting to stress Tim out when there was no reason too. He saw the way you and Tim grinned at each other when you brought snacks down for all the kids he was currently lecturing. He head the excitement in your voice as you told him about the tour Tim had given you of the Batcave and the shared laughter as you and Tim worked together to win the nerf war.
Bruce saw how you worked to give Damian the affection he didn’t think he needed. He felt you crying in his arms upset over the fact Damian thought you would be angry because he made a mistake or struggled in a class. He heard you practicing your Arabic as you got ready for bed and he watched as you stress paced over whether or not you said the right thing to him about his mother. 
He saw how angry you had been when you came back from your day out with Barbara. He had heard your call with your lawyer as you tried to figure out what to do. He saw you going through the laws and making a list to make sure your lawyer didn’t miss any. He heard about the movie you didn’t particularly care about and the lore you remembered in case of another because you wanted Barbara to have someone she could tell all of her favorite things too. 
Bruce saw the pictures you had taken from the school night. He heard all the details from you as you praised Steph’s work. He saw the way Steph stopped acting around you and the silly arguments the two of you would get into for fun. He heard the way you would listen to her as she verbally worked out her problems. He saw the way Steph looked for you in a crowd, the way she knew you were there but not where you stood exactly, the thought of you not being there never crossed her. 
He saw the way you stayed up late, researching different ways to teach reading and writing. He heard the patience and kindness and you worked with Cass. He saw the way you always made a treat just for Cass to have after each lesson because you wanted to reward her hard work. He heard the way you cried for Cass when she had a bad day and got frustrated with herself because you knew she was smart and you wanted her to see it too. He heard your celebrations when Cass made any progress, no matter the size. 
Bruce heard, saw, and felt the way you worked hard to have a relationship with his kids. How you had mourned for their losses, celebrated their wins, and felt their pain. He saw the way his kids blossomed under your care, growing to be better and more confident in themselves. The way you cared for them as if they were your own flesh and blood. So when he was asked about his kids behavior, he said as much. 
“Y/n has worked hard to be accepted by them. She’s given so much of her time, effort, patience, and love and never wanted anything in return. She always shows up for them, no matter what the occasion is, big or small, it doesn’t matter. If they want her there, she’ll be there. Everytime they need or want her, she’s there. She never judges them and treats them as if they were her own blood. Of course their upset and lashing out, people are insulting the woman who has cared for them more then most of their biological mothers.”
Later, a clip of you scolding Bruce and all the kids went viral. While you were scolding them over their behavior and making the kids who had reacted with violence or threats write apology letters because asking mean questions does not make it right to respond badly especially when its someone just trying to start drama. Everyone one noticed that there was no actual bite to your tone and no anger when they all refused to stop acting like that. In fact, there was a small soft smile on your face as you shook your head at your family.
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kisakis-boyfriend · 5 months
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Hello, will you please consider writing a longer drabble where the reader teaches Freminet how to masturbate?
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Pairings: Freminet x reader
Warnings: Male!reader, dom!reader, sub!Freminet, adult Freminet, guided masturbation, inexperienced Freminet
Genre/Format: Smut; oneshot
Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!
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“Never? You haven't even thought about it?” You questioned, surprised at the young man's revelation
He spoke shyly when he answered, averting his eyes from yours in fear of judgement. “N-no...I didn't even know you could do that...”
It took a second for you to process this information. Brows knitted together while you hummed amidst the otherwise silence of the room. You had a rather interesting idea, asking your partner, “Would you...like for me to teach you?”
“Wh-what?!?!” Freminet blurted out, nearly flying backwards off of the stool he was seated on. Teach... him?
“You can uh...watch me first, if you'd like?” You offered. Leaning forward just a bit and meeting Freminet's eyes with sincerity. His eyes were darting back and forth between your face and your groin, spluttering while he desperately searched for words. It's not that he didn't want this — this intimacy with you — but it was kinda scary...he was afraid of screwing up and you laughing at him...
“I, um...if you want to...” His voice was barely a whisper. A wisp of a whisper, even. As heavy breaths fell from his open mouth, Freminet caught the movement of your legs spreading a little in his peripherals
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“Alright. Then just watch me for a bit, yeah?” Freminet wordlessly nodded along, already falling into a daze as his eyes focused on your hands. Your fingers grasped the zipper and buttons on the front of your pants and undid them, standing up briefly to pull the clothing down to your ankles and then kicking them off. His own slender fingers dug into the cushion underneath him, watching as your fingers curled around the shaft of your dick and began slowly rubbing it. Moving up and down, then rubbing at the tip — an action that caused your breath to hitch slightly, he noticed
“Payin' attention over there?” Your voice pulled Freminet out of his daze for a second as he stuttered out a choked “Y-yeah...” before his blue eyes returned to staring at the cock resting in your hand. It looked a bit more stiff than it did earlier; the tip was also...wet? He noticed that there was some sort of clear fluid leaking out of the small slit on the tip. Which you promptly rubbed onto your fingers before spreading that wetness onto the rest of your dick, stroking yourself faster and rocking your hips just the tiniest bit
A breathy “Oh fuck–” slips from your lips and the blond sitting across from you notices a strange pulse somewhere between his legs. Warmth instantly spread throughout his core — it almost reminded him of having a fever, but...somehow nice. Pleasant, almost. Freminet's thighs tensed while you continued to stroke your cock; up and down, up and down, up and down. Nearly matching the rise and fall of your chest
Freminet's own hushed noises increased in frequency; captivated by your erotic demonstration. His thighs squeezed together some more, lost in this hazy state until your hand comes to a halt with one last slick sound
“Fuck– Get the jist of it?” You pant. Freminet nods, regaining his composure. “Good. Now it's your turn.”
“H-huh?!” The blond squeaks. “M-my-my turn?!” A wave of panic set in, quickly turning into nervousness and fidgeting as Freminet searched for an escape from this. Watching you was the easy part, now that it was time for him to do the embarrassing thing, well...how's he supposed to deal with this?
“Yeah? I was just showin' you the ropes, babe. Now you get to do the hands-on part.” You explained. It was quite obvious that your partner was nervous, so you offered up even more help. “D'you want to sit in my lap? I'll help guide you until you get the hang of it?”
This suggestion caused him to become flushed from head to toe, stuttering a rather clumsy answer that his mind didn't comprehend until after the words had left his lips. You smiled at the answer, nonetheless, standing up and walking around behind him. Finding your place on the stool with your legs on either side of Freminet and helping him remove his own clothing. Everything seemed so distant — like one long dream while his body went through the motions on its own. Kicking his boots and underwear off and then sitting in between your legs, allowing you to spread his thighs open with zero resistance
“Alright, ready?” Again, Freminet simply mumbled an ‘uh-huh’ to your prompt. Staring down while you guide his hand to wrap around his small cock, which earned an adorable breathy noise from him. Your own hand wrapped around his next. Your large, strong hand...much bigger than his. Firm and in control while you made his little hand slide up and down his length sloooowly–
At first, it felt strange; foreign. Obviously Freminet wasn't used to this feeling. This motion on an area as sensitive as his member. And sensitive it surely was... Every little drag of his smooth palm along the shaft had Freminet panting — eyes glued to the beads of precum building at the tip. You squeezed his hand a little, causing it to tighten around his cock, and your darling gasped
“Mm you liked that~” Thanks to Freminet's noises — and your earlier ministrations — you were only growing harder as this lesson dragged on. Surely he noticed this too...how could he not? Your dick was pressed up against his pale cheeks, smearing precum on the small of his back while you subtly tried to grind against him
“Think you can take full control?” You asked, breathing the question against the blond's ear. He gave a rather confident ‘yeah’ before assuming the lead, stroking himself a little faster now. “Ooh you're really getting into this, huh? Don't forget that you can experiment too. Try focusing on the tip or changing the pace, see how it all feels.”
Per your suggestion, Freminet tried rubbing at the leaking tip of his dick, wincing as a spark of pleasure shot through him. The wetness clung to his fingers as they glided along his length, making it easier to jerk himself off. Moans filled the room as his hips began to buck into his hand, chasing something — some tight, hot feeling building up inside of his stomach. A knot of some sort that grew tighter the longer he went on. Just a little more– yes, keep going...more, more, more—!!
“Oh fuck...aah, you're close aren't you? Here, lemme help~” You moaned against your lover's shoulder, reaching back around to massage his balls while he thrust wildly into his fist. The added pleasure finally caused that tight feeling to explode — throwing his head back against your shoulder as cum shot out. The milky white substance covered Freminet's thin fingers, some of it even dripping onto yours as you helped milk it all out
“O-oh...shit...” Freminet heaved, vision blurry from his intense first self-administered orgasm. “Haaaah...so much...”
Lifting his hand away from his softening dick, Freminet curiously inspected the cum sticking to his skin. It was quite a lot... translucent too. It's not like he hadn't seen cum before, but it was strange to think that he had been the one to wring so much out, by his own hands especially. The young man chuckled to himself, letting his hand fall into his lap while he reclined back onto your chest and relaxed as your hands wrapped around him
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811 notes · View notes
risuola · 2 months
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III — GAMBARE, GAMBARE — F. READER x SUKUNA RYOMEN
In the world of crime and blood, Sukuna knows what's off limits. You certainly are one of those things and yet, he's unable to stop thinking of you.
cw: smut, little angst-ish in some places, mafia!au, unprotected sex, a hint of body worshipping, violence, mentions of death, subtle threats, reader discretion is advised — 3,2k words
a/n: third part, thank you so much for support guys! it means the world to me to see how INSANELY big is the tag list now. i literally love y'all~ ❤️ also, just as the first part got inspired by the absolutely menacing quote from our king, it only felt natural to include the famous gambare, gambare (do your best) into this one.
series masterlist
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Sukuna prefers to think of himself as one of significant intelligence. Over the years, during which he ruled over the entire criminal milieu, he proved himself to stand atop of anyone who dared to even think of overturning his jurisdiction. All the exceptionally dumb bold ones that once wished to take the position of a boss from his hands had learned the hard way why troubles with Sukuna Ryomen are the least desirable fate of anyone who bears any volume of oil inside their brains.
It’s not only tactical or business intelligence that he’s priding himself with. It’s also the excessive knowledge about general rules of life that allowed him to comfortably push and pull the edges of what’s right and wrong, bending his own reality to his liking. Now it’s intuitive – he just knows where he can put more pressure and where it’s not worth his time. He knows what to bet his money on and what won’t realistically pay back. And most importantly, up until that point, Sukuna thought he can tell with his eyes closed which people he should consider crossing paths with, what men can be useful whilst he aims to reach his targets and which crowds he shouldn’t mess around with – for various reasons, most of which being just business and inconvenience. Same thing concerns women. Ryomen’s position works like a magnet and not a day passes by without girls, often way too young to even think of him, throwing themselves at him, led by fantasies of money and power veiled in the shades of love. If he wished, he could have a different toy every time the night falls and if he’d be just slightly less trained, he might have fallen for the temptation. But he didn’t.
Sukuna learned it from experience, not exactly his own, but of his pawns, that allowing random women in the proximity of their profession usually leads to catastrophes. Girls get persistent, they grow attached, they fall in love sooner than it’s even logical and then they threat, they blackmail; all of which eventually leads to their deaths because dealing with just barely adults that weaponize tears and screams is something he doesn’t allow in his circle. There were no exceptions, any man bearing similar power to Ryomen knows that there’s no place for romance in the world of death and bones, the one that’s stained in red and sorrow. If there happens to be love, it’s always of people from inside the criminal circle, sharing the same set of broken morals. Mafia should never tie itself romantically with civilians. Especially him, the leader, the menace that he is in the world of misdeed, murder and corruption, knew all too well why he should never, ever, even think of someone from outside of his tale as of anything more than one time plaything. That would be irresponsible, straight up naïve. It would be foolish. He knew all of that and not even once he felt any need to engage into any kind of relationship with someone that he deemed non-profitable to his general targets.
Then why the fuck he kept thinking of you? Why he kept seeing you after what was supposed to be a fun one-time fuck? Why did the taste of your lips and the sweet scent of your skin made him so completely addicted that he couldn’t focus on his own business without his mind wandering to the memory of you at least once an hour? He just liked your body, he told himself every time he thought of sending you a message. You were a good lay, it was purely physical. You did, after all, take his dick like you were born solely for this very purpose. He was meeting you only for sex and it was an accident that some of these meetings began with a dinner. All of the gifts he showered you with were just a form of payment for the service. Sukuna knew much better than to let his emotions take control of him.
“What’s on your mind?” Your quiet voice tore Ryomen out of the realm of his self-criticism. The tone that you spoked with was raspy, the testimony of the rough, throat-fucking he had used you for just few hours prior, and yet, it still somehow flowed with cottony softness, so characteristic to you.
“Nothing important,” he replied bluntly, lowering his gaze to where your face was buried into the broad muscle of his chest; your frame completely hidden in his own, much larger and stronger. It was another night you spent in his house, one of those that began with the reservation in one of Tokyo’s best restaurants that served traditional Japanese cuisine. You showed up in a dress made of dark olive silk, long enough to reach your high-heeled sandals and clinging to your shapes as if it was made to be worn over the divinity that was your body. The long, scandalous slit exposed one of your legs and the thin straps accentuated your shoulders and cleavage just perfectly. It was a dress that he himself bought and ordered to be delivered to you in an expensive box before that day. Now that very same gown was laying somewhere, discarded on the floor in the living room of his mansion.
“Sometimes I feel like you’re plotting my death,” you chuckled against his skin, the vibration of the act made him scoff because both him and you knew that the scenario you offered wasn’t exactly falling into the realm of fiction.
“If I were to kill you, I wouldn’t need to plot it. One bullet is all it would take,” he retorted with calm and despite any logic, instead of creating some distance, instead of running away you hummed at his statement and pressed your lips to the center of his chest.
You were way over fearing Sukuna and his world. The few months that you spend seeing him, you came to terms with the heavy weight of tragic fate that was now resting on your shoulders. It couldn’t end well, you shouldn’t tangle yourself with a man such as him, the path of your normal life should never come even close to the blood tainted one he was walking through. You should have never left the club with him and once you did, you should have run out his house the moment he gave you a chance. Instead of that, you stayed. That night, after the time of Ryomen’s pursue and the unfortunate event with Naoya and his gang, soon turned into two. Then just few more and then many more. The one-night stand evolved into continuous romance and though it was strewn with roses and intimacy, it came also with the realization that the more you see him, the less days you have left. There was no way for someone like you, an outsider, the mere civilian with no mafia bonds whatsoever, to be living a long life. Sukuna has enemies, there are people that want the power he holds and will eventually target you. That is, of course, if he doesn’t kill you himself over time – out of boredom or prevention. You knew a lot, he had told you more than he should.
But you loved him. You had seen him do some pretty dark things that would make most people’s eyes water, and in all honesty, it did the same thing to yours, but then, with you, Sukuna was always protective. You loved the way he always seemed to know just what you needed, the way he read you like an open book and knew just what to say or do to put you at ease. You loved the way he made you feel like the only woman in the world, how he made you feel beautiful, even on the days you felt like a total mess. He was a danger, a threat so deadly you shouldn’t play with it, he was a flame that you were bound to burn yourself on, but he was also the only person in the world you felt so safe around. Ever since you met, he had protected you. Even if his words were harsh and his own deeds rough, he never failed to envelop you in a bubble inside of which nothing and no one could hurt you.
“Oh, how much you’d miss me,” a certain sense of amusement hinted in the tone you used as the sheepish smile stretched your lips. Ryomen acted suddenly, grabbing the tiny thing that was your body and pressing your back to the mattress. His fingers wrapped around the frail of your neck; it wouldn’t take much of his strength to snap it and yet, you seemed rather comfortable with his grip secured around your airways. Over the time you managed to grow enough trust to know he won’t hurt you for no reason. Your lover was a man powerful enough, there was no need for seeding fear in you. You were also smart enough to differentiate the real danger from the playful acts. If Sukuna truly wanted you to be scared, you most definitely would be scared shitless.
“You think so?” His tone dropped an octave as he crawled above you; your bare figure now trapped underneath the weight of his presence. He got your legs between his initially, the heavy shaft of his dick rested over your lower belly as he shifted his hand from your throat down to cup your breasts. Your body seemed to never stop attract him, no matter how many times he touched and tasted it. You looked almost angelic in the dim light of that morning; the remnants of sleep still painted over your features and the only things that disturbed the innocence of your picture were the marks he had left on your plush, velvety skin. Red and angry spots that he sucked onto your flesh adorned the beauty of your frame, ultimately making you his own. “Aren’t you a little too confident?”
“I think I’m confident just enough,” you grinned playfully, smoothing over his hands, one staying on top of his palm on your breast and the other reaching up his arm to touch more of him. There was always a hunger lingering inside of you, you were never completely satiated and even if your body was utterly exhausted, you were always happy to take more. Sukuna made you feel ecstatic, like you were really his only one and though it was an illusion that you chose to believe in, it felt good to imagine yourself as his only care.
“And why would I miss you, huh? Aren’t you only a plaything for me?” The question he asked was meant to sound venomous but the sound of his voice betrayed the lighthearted intention. “Do you think I’ll blink twice when discarding you when I get bored of what you can give me?”
“I don’t think you’ll hesitate,” a chuckle once again shook your chest gently as you watched how Sukuna gently pulled your legs up from underneath him and brought one of your ankles to his face. The kisses he smeared along your shin were delicate, completely contrasting with the threatful impression that he was trying to make. He was worshipping you so openly, it made you blush every time. “But even though I know you wouldn’t think twice before killing me, I also think you’d miss me afterwards.”
Once the tender caresses finished, your calves landed on top of his shoulders as he leaned forward, squeezing a breathy moan out of you as he pushed his length into you to the very base of it, sliding on enough spit that it made the entrance easy. Ryomen learned your body through and through, he knew you can take it, he knew you’re always ready and eager to take him. Even if it’s early, even if it hurts. No matter when and where, if he told you to sit on his dick in the middle of a grocery store, you’d probably do just that and ask no questions. And yet, he knew where the boundaries are. Not once he pushed you when you were feeling bad. Not once he used you when you were not ready. The knowledge he now had about you came from observation.
“I think I would miss you,” he purred, his lips so close that they brushed against yours as he spoke. He’s got you in a mating press, filled to the brim with his bricked-up manhood and completely at his mercy. “You are addicting.”
“So keep me safe,” you whispered, cupping his face and chasing the kiss he was yet to give you. The request caught him slightly off guard. The pleading undertone made his heart clench; a feeling that he’s gone without for a decade at least and though he hated the odd sensation in his chest, he also couldn’t deny the warmth that spread throughout his body.
“You are safe with me,” the reassuring lie he followed with a heavy press onto your lips, sealing his words with his own tongue and silently promising you his protection. A vow that he wished to keep and yet, feared he won’t be able to. But now, it wasn’t important. Now you were here, in his bed, on his dick. Now there was just you and him.
Your dainty fingers found their place in his hair as he began thrusting into you. The new slick that combined with the remnants of the night made his movements easy as he dragged his hips back almost all the way out and then pushed back to the point of his pelvis clashing with the back of your thighs and your ass. The pace he set wasn’t fast. It wasn’t anything of what he’d most often pick, there was no violence intertwined into the melody of his hips. That morning it was sensual, it was deep and just rapid enough to stimulate every sweet spot inside of you. Stroke after stroke he was driving you crazy, he just barely started and already you felt yourself dripping. The filthy, wet sounds filled in the early aura and the muffled moans and whimpers accompanied them.
Sukuna allowed your legs to fall lower from where they were pressed against your chest and you hooked them around his hips. The newly earned access to his neck and shoulders you immediately used by allowing your hands to wander in the area, scratching his skin just to force a low purr from his throat. Every sound he made, you swallowed greedily as the kiss continued. Your tongues were dancing to the fiery rhythm of intimacy.
The coil in your stomach tightened all too quickly, you wished it to give you more time to enjoy what he was willing to give you but no matter how much you wanted your body to calm down, he made it absolutely impossible to achieve. Your veins were running with pure ecstasy and lust, the heated flurry that now was your brain was focused only on him, on the rhythm of his hips, on every sweet little lie that he whispered to you. Ryomen knew how to make you weak, he knew just how to angle his body to hit that one spot, the most sensitive one and you could feel him grinning against your lips. He knew you were close. The delicious squeezes that your cunt did on his girth were enough of a hint to notice and it gave him a sense of pride to be able to make you come undone so easily.
“Just few moments more,” he murmured and you nodded eagerly. Tears prickled in your eyes, gathering along your lash lines like crystals that he wished to kiss away, but was now too engulfed in the taste of your lips to part. His movements got quicker, just a little heavier as he began slamming into you with more force than at the beginning. Mornings tend to rid Sukuna from the ability to last – the ones that he spends with you in his arms, with your naked body pressed against his, unknowingly shifting against his dick for hours. That makes him unable to keep his composure for too long. Sometimes he feels like you strip him of all qualities that he once prided himself in, leaving him bare only to your eyes, with only the most primal needs exposed and he felt good with that kind of freedom.
“…don’t stop, oh god, ‘kuna~”, you were whimpering, arching your back underneath him and squeezing your little hands over his shoulders. “I can’t, I—”
“Oh, you can. Do your best,” Sukuna chuckled, teasing you with such impossible tasks. Your head fell back, your thighs were trembling against his sides and he could tell he’s losing you. You were far too deep in the realm of desire to hear his words; all of your world now came down to what you felt, to how you felt him and Sukuna loved your blissed out state. He loved the way he was the one to push you so far over the edge that you wouldn’t notice if the world was ending. But what he loved above that, was how you were gripping onto him; holding him tightly, pulling him closer as if you never wanted him to move away, as if he was everything you needed. And he was.
“God, you’re so beautiful,” he muttered against your throat, painting the skin over there with wet trails of kisses and new, red marks – the ones gentle enough to fade in a matter of hours. You moaned something incoherent. “Cum for me,” he allowed, not even sure if you’re registering his words. It had to be unconscious; the way your brain caught his voice between the blurry lines of everything else.
Your climax hit you like a rock; his name was slipping over your tongue continuously, so sweet and breathless that Sukuna was once again reassured that he never wants to hear anyone else calling him. Your walls were squeezing his throbbing length, he twitched and flexed inside you, groaning with satisfaction and before he allowed himself to come, he pushed himself up. As he sat on his heels, he pulled you with him; your body now on top of him and he used his hands to guide your hips up and down his dick. You wrapped yourself around him, finding a safe space for your face right where his neck connects with his muscular shoulder and all he needed to feel the bliss was the sensation of your teeth sinking into his skin.
White seed painted your insides as he shot it as deeply as he could reach with you on top of him. Few more moves, few more groans and you could feel him relax. His strong arms snaked around your waist as he shifted slightly to lean against the headboard, straightening his legs in front of him. You stayed pressed against his chest, catching your breath and feeling the tension leaving your body as the morning went by. And as Sukuna held you so close to his heart, he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that it felt so right and that made the question bloom inside his brain. Was it still strictly physical? Was it ever only about sex?
» PART FOUR
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taglist: @yihona-san06 , @tiredscavengerskeleton , @son4aras , @vixorell , @cecesharktales , @isleqt , @thickmacandcheese, @captainchrisstan, @bbylime, @sad-darksoul, @shartnart1, @kiki17483, @grimreaqueer, @phoenix-eclipses, @fan-of-encouragement, @valleydoll, @aleeeeeeees-stuff, @marifujioka, @going-to-californiaxx, @just-pure-trash, @edenofeve, @impulsivethoughtsat2am, @thigh-o-saur, @heyohalie, @matchat3a, @bubblearts, @littlemisspropaganda, @aconstructofamind, @lawislife18, @rzcnlb, @sunukissed
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hellfire--cult · 4 months
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Krampus!Eddie x Virgin!Fem!Reader
wc: 5k
+18 mdni, krampus meets reader at 18 (no smut at that age), obsession from reader, smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), loss of virginity in adulthood, christmas folklore, dark fic, reader isn't a good person.
plot: At 18 years old you were visited by Krampus for misbehaviour, but you instantly fell in love with the creature. Years pass, your sick and toxic obsession grows, making a beast's curiosity bloom, and so, he visits you once again after many years.
a/n: yep, its a reupload after rewriting.
always reblog, don't just like.
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MISBEHAVED
Of all the things you thought this monster would look like, you didn’t think he would look like this.
Even the idea of him existing like Saint Nicholas was a crazy thought by itself, but here he is, in the flesh, while Chrissy probably got visited by Saint Nicholas, you were visited by…
“What a naughty girl you’ve been this year, pumpkin.” 
You were in the corner of your room with the candle in your hand, trying to light anything close to you as much as possible, the monster's steps getting closer as you gulped loudly, waiting for a hideous monster to appear in front of your eighteen-year-old self.
But in front of you appeared a gorgeous man, with big horns on his head, like a goat’s. Deep brown eyes that glistened with the candle in your hand, long dark curls falling from the top of his head and down to his shoulders, his bare chest, full of symbols, and then you saw his bottom half, pants that resembled black fur as he bent down towards your face.
You couldn’t look away at how beautiful he looked, how this being could be considered a monster at all. Is beauty considered evil? If he was like this, what did Saint Nicholas look like?
“Are you going to take me away?” You asked, almost as if wishing for it, and the man before you smirked, taking something out from the side pocket of his pants, and you could see the twig of a tree, handing it to you. Your confused face made him scoff with a shake of his head.
“No. But this is what you get this year for Christmas. Next year, try to be good, okay?” His tone was calm, and reassuring, yet with a hint of malice behind it that sent a shiver down your spine. 
“What’s your name?” Your voice finally got out and he was surprised that you asked such a question.
“Well, I am Krampus.”
“No, your real name.” And his red eyes glistened with a hint of gold, with a hint of amusement. 
“Hmm… If you behave, I will let Saint Nicholas give you the knowledge of it next year. How does that sound?”
And the man, if you could consider him that, smiled at you, and that was all it took. All that smile did was finally set your heart into a quick pace, and that’s when you realized:
You became obsessed with him and you would do anything to get to see him again.
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So the next year, you behaved, just like he said, and at nineteen years old, Saint Nicholas visited you, only for you to receive the letter ‘E’ as a gift.
“If you keep behaving well, I will give you one letter every year until you complete his full name.” 
You were angry, you behaved yourself for nothing, but what if you misbehaved on purpose and he didn’t come anyway? And you wanted to know his real name, you really did. So every year, you kept doing good deeds, even if not with good intentions, you helped with herding the sheep for Mrs.Driscoll, helped Wayne Munson with his farm, and did communal duties in the small town with Nancy Wheeler and Joyce Byers. 
Electricity was slowly making its way into the town as the years passed, and each year you received a new letter from Saint Nicholas.
Until you finally reached twenty-one. Saint Nicholas didn’t arrive anymore because you were an adult, but you had a good guess as to what his name might be, something inside you told you so.
'ED'.
You knew he wasn’t going to appear, so you kept your good deeds, but with a bad intention. For example, you helped young Dustin Henderson by teaching him how to milk a cow, yet you didn’t teach him he didn’t have to stand behind it after milking it. The boy received a black eye the next day.
You agreed to help Jonathan Byers with the preparations for a festival that was going to be held in the center of the town, and you handed him the new scented candles that were gifted to you by a lady in the neighboring town. When they were turned on, the candles smelled like rancid milk, and Jonathan took all the blame. 
But he never showed. No matter how many years passed, even if you were now twenty-five years old, you couldn’t find anything to help you in invoking him again.
You knew this love of yours would never cease, but the children in town were all good, so Krampus was never seen. You had no way of contacting him, even if you did rituals, even if you tried to talk to Saint Nicholas by creeping on Christmas nights into the houses of the townspeople who had kids, but you were always a second late.
So now, you were pacing around in your house, already sick of this game, sick of these obsessive feelings of yours over a beast that you didn’t know if he even remembered you. Over someone that probably didn’t give a damn about you and who you were, yet you studied him for years, through the tales, through the books, through the experiences, through the people in other towns.
You were never going to see him again. You were tricked by him into believing that you would see him again, and the anger that was sipping through your pores was great, too big.
“Fuck you, Edward! Damn you!”
And the fireplace immediately went out, as the newly installed lightbulbs in your home flicked until they exploded.
You screamed as well as cursed because those were expensive, a dollar each. The price of luxury was a lot, but you wanted the electricity, already tired of lighting candles throughout the small house you bought for yourself after your mother passed away thanks to tuberculosis.
Your head whipped around when you heard the sound of what sounded like hooves coming in contact with the wooden floor of your house, slowly changing into soft steps. You ran to your kitchen to grab your knife in self-defense, pointing it at the open space. 
“Who’s there!?”
“You’ve been really naughty, Pumpkin.” 
Your blood went cold as two bright yellow eyes shone in the darkness of your living room, and suddenly, there was a snap of fingers and the fireplace lit up again, burning the logs at a fast pace, and it illuminated the entire room, the Christmas tree in the corner now with its decorations glistening once more with the embers of the fireplace.
Yet despite those glistening decorations, your eyes could only focus on one thing. The man, the monster, the creature that you’ve been seeking to see again, standing in the middle of the living room, his hands in his pockets, and a stern look on his face that made you drop the knife to the floor.
Your breathing picked up, your heart thrumming in your chest, and you couldn’t help but swoon at the face you’ve been craving to see all these years, and now he is in front of you, even if angry.
“Edward…” You sighed in pure bliss, in happiness, and you knew you were obsessed, crazy even, but you couldn’t help yourself. You fell for him the very first moment he visited you, and now you are a grown woman, still holding onto those lovely feelings, never forgetting about his eyes that changed from brown to red, to gold.
“Look who’s all grown up, you’re even cursing my name out loud.” He snarled at you, and you could see how intense his gaze was as he scanned you. He took a few steps towards you, his now bare feet coming in contact with the wood, and you wondered if he looked different, yet he took this shape to not scare kids or people off.
“I– I behaved. I earned it.” 
“You didn’t behave with honesty. You weren’t a good person because you wanted to be, you were a good person because of your selfishness.” He was finally in front of you with his hands still in his pockets, and his eyes were intense, a deep yellow, staring you down with an unreadable expression.
“I still behaved, that was the deal. You never specified if I behaved honestly or not.” You responded and his eyes twitched in surprise at how mischievous you were. How… brilliant you were.
“And may I ask why you were so obsessed with knowing my name?” He asked and you couldn’t help but press your legs together as heat rose all over your body, your cheeks becoming flushed as you looked at him. 
“I wanted to see you again.” 
“You are a big adult now, past twenty-one.” And at his response, you finally showed him a big grin on your face, and his eyes flashed with intrigue.
“And yet you are still here… Eddie.” 
And the puzzle clicked in his head, a smirk appearing on his lips as his tongue darted out to lick all over them as the thirst came up in his throat, his eyes turning a deep red, and lust filled him to the brim, thanks to the woman that was in front of him. 
Your eyes darted from his eyes to the horns, to his hair, to the markings all over his chest and arms, and then, he took his hands out of his pockets, to reveal long nails, like claws. You took a sharp intake of breath as he leaned his face towards yours, inspecting you.
“So you have been misbehaving lately so you could see me again? What is your plan?” He asked in a sultry tone and you just sighed in relief and bliss, and you were brave enough to wrap your arms around his shoulders to pull him close, feeling his broad back underneath your forearms, making you clench your legs again.
“I waited for you… aren’t I good?”
And that made Eddie groan loudly, and with a snap of his fingers you were now in your room, and he pushed you off him so you could fall flat on your bed, taking you by surprise because of how the environment changed in one quick motion.
“No, you are not. If you were, I wouldn’t be here.” Your breathing was heavy, your gut turning with nervousness and excitement because what you’ve been craving was right in front of you. You want him to take you. To make you his. To mark you. 
You heard another snap of his fingers and what appeared to be floating candles appeared all around the room, lighting it subtly, endearingly, almost as if it were some sort of ritual, but you weren’t scared of it. You weren’t afraid of what might happen, because whatever it is, whatever he does, you would gladly take it.
He tilted his head to the side as he looked down at your body, and then your eyes widened when his tongue darted out just like before, and now you could see just how long and pointy it actually was, and that only made you wet with the idea of feeling it against your skin. 
“Please…” Your hips raised up slightly towards him as if presenting yourself like a bitch in heat. His eyes scanned your body, wondering if you were right in the head, but from what Saint Nicholas had been telling him over the years, it seemed you were doing everything with a conscious mind.
You wanted him, for whatever reason that was. He’s only seen you once, and you became attached to him like a moth to a flame. He took a deep breath in, inhaling your scent, be it the one you were emanating from your pores as well as the scent from the wetness between your thighs. 
His clawed hand shot out to grip the front of your white nightgown, startling you when you start hearing a ripping sound. Your body jerked upwards as he ripped the gown apart, opening for him, and now you lay there, bare for him to take in with his red lust-filled eyes. 
“You are untouched.” It was a confirmation, and you smiled at him with a nod, and that only made his hunger increase by a hundred. A virgin. Now he realized what you meant when you said you waited for him. 
“I want you, and only you…” You finally admitted it to him, and his eyes found yours. Your breathing was heavy, your breasts moving up and down as your lungs tried to get oxygen inside, your cunt pulsing with need. 
And his eyes gleamed in a golden hue once more, as if there was a click of some sort.
A growl was heard in the room and you yelped as he grabbed your thighs, pushing you closer to the edge of your bed. He fell to his knees and took a deep inhale of your intoxicating scent. You needed to be punished for your behavior, the biggest punishment. 
His long tongue snaked out of his lips to flick your clit, making you gasp as you stared at the ceiling. This new feeling, so dirty, something you waited for so long, and even if you had the chance to, you didn’t want anybody but him.
He licked around your folds, tasting the wetness that surrounded them, an animalistic groan vibrating in his chest, his claws digging into your inner thighs as he kept your legs open for him. He couldn’t wait anymore, pressing all of his tongue against your slick, tasting you completely, and you finally let out a moan out of pure ecstasy as you gripped the sheets below you.
He smirked against your cunt as it pulsated for more contact, and he immediately dove in. Your moans could probably be heard from outside, but you didn’t care, nobody was near you, so there was nothing that could forbid you from yelling his name, from crying out from the pleasure you were feeling. 
His tongue was going in between tasting you and flicking your clit repeatedly. His lips sucked on your folds and you couldn’t believe you waited for so long to feel something like this, but it was worth it. It’s so worth it.
Your eyes opened wide when you felt his tongue slowly sliding inside of you. You’ve only touched yourself outside, you never inserted a finger of yours even if you were curious. This feeling was weird, but pleasurable all the while. You felt it move inside of you, as if flicking your walls from side to side, making your back arch upwards.
“Oh–!” You were amazed by how good this felt, how amazing he was making you feel with just these simple touches, these hungry kisses all around your center.
“You taste delightfully darling. And I am the first to taste it.” And last is what he wants to say, but he will take that comment with him, at least for now. He needs to keep his tongue inside of you, drunk of your taste, of your juices filling his taste buds. 
“Edward– Eddie, please–” You didn’t know what you were asking for, but you needed something, yet you didn’t know what. He then pressed his nose against your clit as his tongue swirled inside of you, and you let out a loud moan, your hands shooting down to get hold of both of his horns.
He moaned against your cunt, desire shooting downwards, the pants becoming too constricting on him. His horns are quite sensitive, and you are pulling him against you even harder as you start to ride your hips against his face. What a naughty girl. His naughty girl.
His claws dug into your inner thighs as he felt you start shaking under his ministrations, your moans growing louder as he felt you pulsating against his tongue, clenching, body arching upwards as his name kept coming out of your mouth, over and over again. 
“CHRIST!” You finally yelled as the tight band finally snapped inside of your belly, making you spasm against his hold, your hands gripping his horns as you rode your hips against his face, trying to feel all of your orgasm as he tasted and drank every gush you let out, not missing a single drop.
You were an elixir. He’s never been with a human before, mostly because he is in charge of children rather than adults, but you were a special case. He had to know why you wanted his name so badly, and now he is more than happy that you know it, that you even gave him a nickname so it would be easier for you to scream. 
He pulled away from you, licking a few stripes of your center, making you jerk slightly at the overstimulation as you slowly came down from your high. He let go of your legs, seeing that there was some blood on your inner thighs where his claws dug into. He licked onto your wounds, and your skin instantly started patching back up.
He stood up, towering over your naked body as you breathed heavily, looking at him with dazed eyes, yet still hungry. He raised his hand and snapped his fingers again, and you looked down to see his pants slowly fading away, and you gasped as you saw just how big he was. 
You’ve never seen male anatomy before, but this– you knew that this was not normal. And you remembered that Krampus– Eddie, is not human. He never was, yet you didn’t care. Was he a demon? A monster? A spirit? You didn’t care at all. From the pictures of the books you found, the supposed drawings didn't do him any justice.
But maybe, this was not his original shape.
“Even if you deserve to be punished, I will be gentle with you darling. I don’t wanna break this– lovely present you are giving me in this advent season.” You could hear the smirk in his tone as his hands wrapped around your frame to pull you back up into the middle of the bed. 
Nerves filled your body but were quickly removed as you felt his tongue licking from your knee, towards your hips, then your stomach, all the way up changing into kisses as he reached one of your nipples. He swirled his tongue around the hardened nub to then clamp his mouth against it and that’s when you jerked again, pleasure shooting to your core again.
Your arms immediately wrapped around his back as your legs opened for him to slot right in the middle. You felt his hardness against you, and you didn’t care if it hurt, as long as he finally took you for himself, to complete this fantasy of yours, for him to know just how obsessed and how much you love him.
Because that’s what you feel. Love. Unconditionally, in the weirdest of forms.
It was crazy to think that you fell in love at first sight, but it was what happened. You fell for him as soon as his eyes clashed with yours, and it was one-sided. You didn’t care if it was, and if it still is. He would own you now, even if you never saw him again, you would be forever happy.
Your eyes widened when pain shot all over your chest, and you didn’t realize until now that the man had fangs. He has fangs or some kind of sharpened teeth, yet even in the pain you still felt pleasure. He let go of your right nipple to keep licking his way up as you moan from the feeling of his hot tongue on your skin.
He raised his head from your skin to look down on your face, and your eyes clashed with his again, and they glistened with a golden hue through the red once more. He leaned forward and your heart stopped as you felt his lips against yours, another place where you remained untouched. 
You kissed him back, not having expected that he would kiss you at all, and in such an intimate way. He was soft, caring, not at all what you thought he would be, yet he was proving you wrong. Maybe the tales were wrong. He is not evil, he never was. His job was always to make children learn from their mistakes, while Saint Nicholas took the good guy part for himself when all he did was pamper selfish children.
Eddie groaned into your lips and you couldn’t help but open your eyes to finally see the tail behind him, something you didn’t spot before, maybe because he tucked it too well, or hid it. It was wagging, almost like a whip, with a fluffy end. It was black, and you couldn’t help but feel more attracted to him now. 
You closed your eyes once more as you felt his tongue lick your bottom lip, and your lips parted to let him inside your mouth, your tongues dancing with each other now, making your cunt clench in need again. You didn’t know that kissing someone could turn you on like this, but he is proving you wrong with each touch he gives you and provides you with.
His hands were caressing all of your body. Your sides, your hips, your thighs until one of his hands disappeared, only to feel him line himself up to your entrance and his lips pulled away from yours, looking down at your face.
“Breathe out. Don’t hold it in. Be a good girl for once.”
And you listened. Krampus calling you a good girl was something that ignited thousands of flames inside of your body, and his hips moved forward, breaching you open. You threw your head back with a wince as you felt him slowly opening you up for the first time ever. It stung, and it definitely burned, but it would pass, it has to pass.
“It– It hurts– But… Don’t stop–”
“Didn’t think of doing that. You still need punishment after all.” He almost sounded unphased, as if he weren’t stimulated at all, yet you could hear some restraint in his voice as if holding in something in the back of his throat. 
He was claiming you. Slowly and torturously, and even in your short gasps and winces, you took it all. He was amazed by you, how you waited for him, how much you wanted him despite him not being human. Maybe you weren’t right in the head after all. 
And he hit the wall, and with one hard thrust, he plunged forward, finally breaking it. You cried out, your nails digging into his back as pain shot through your body, but you heard him finally moan out in bliss as your tightness engulfed him. You were so warm, so perfect for him that he could hardly handle it. 
“Ed– Eddie–” You were choking out his name as you tried to adjust to his size, your cunt pulsing around him at the sudden intrusion. He raised himself up, his hands on each side of your head as your nails dug into his sides. Your eyes widened when you saw the symbols on his body start to shine, it was dim, but it was a dark glow, like a shadow around them. 
“Such a good girl…” And those words made you relax once again, and that let him be able to move backward, slowly, eliciting a wince from your part, and then a gasp as he moved back in again. “So good for me.”
You felt tears rolling down your face, but a smile was spread on your lips, and if someone told you that you would have to endure this pain every time in order to see him over and over again, you would. You definitely would. 
His hips moved back again and then pushed in once more. The winces slowly turned into moans, the pain fading away, and even if the burning remained, the pleasure was slowly increasing inside of you as his thrusts started gaining some speed and momentum. Your eyes were hazy as they tried to adjust to look at his face.
His eyes were pure gold now, yellow as they looked down at your face, contorting in pure ecstasy as his thrusts became deeper now, your body jerking upwards as he started hitting a part of you, inside, that you didn’t know you could feel. You didn’t know what it was, but it was a hundred times better than your clit. 
“Oh– Fuck– Fuck!” Your head was thrown back as your nails scratched onto his sides, making a groan escape him, his posture straightening to grab the back of your knees, pulling your legs up, opening you wider for him and that’s when you felt his need, his desire, as he started moving fast, desperate, and he was fixated on your breasts as they bounced at his every move.
He couldn’t take his eyes away from you as you moaned his name over and over again, and he felt the marks on his body burning him, making the pleasure even more unbearable. He needed to make you his, forever. Give you the worst punishment Krampus can give to bad people.
His hands slipped down to get hold of your hips and you kept your legs up as the skin slapping could be heard all over your house, pulling you towards him each time he thrust in, helping him go deeper into you and harder. 
He could feel your walls clenching again, and he smirked as he looked down at you, your mouth open, drooling, as your hands were over your head, all over your pillow as you moved up and down thanks to his movements, the wood of the bed creaking against the floor.
“Come on sweet girl, you can give me one more, just one more.” One of his hands left your hips to get in between the two of you and you winced when you felt one of his nails scratch your clit, only to then moan when his digit came in contact and started to draw circles on it as he kept thrusting in and out of you as he tried to reach his own high.
“I love you– I love you– Make me yours, please– please!” And he smiled wickedly as he moaned out at your words. He knew you meant them, wholeheartedly. You really weren’t right in the head. He was sure of it now, and he didn’t know who to thank for that, but he was eternally grateful for them.
His thrusts quickened as he kept hitting that part inside of you while circling your clit with his thumb. You felt your body growing hot, like fire, as your legs started shaking and your hips jerking towards him as you felt your belly tighten, burn you, scream at you for release, and your hands were gripping onto your pillow under your head as your mouth was wide open with silent moans coming out of it.
“Do it, my good girl, do it.” 
My good girl.
And that did it for you, clenching tightly around him, like a vice grip, like a python against their prey, crying his name, loudly, with breathy moans escaping you as your body shook against him. He didn’t stop his thrusting as he looked down at you, mesmerized, and he knew now that he definitely couldn’t let you go. 
And so he claimed you, moaning your name loudly, even if you have never told him, he knew it. He spilled inside of you in long ropes, jerking his hips at every shot. Who would've thought a human would feel like this? Taste like this? He is obsessed now, not going to be able to let go of this, he is drunk on it, high on it, and he is definitely addicted.
You were at his mercy, in body and soul, and one of the things Krampus loves most is new toys. New toys that bend at his every will. New toys that would benefit him. New toys that he can play with, anytime he wants.
He was breathing heavily, yet tried to conceal it as he stared down at your face, completely spent, with tears and drool running downwards the side of your face. Oh yes… he almost forgot…
He leaned downwards to be face to face with you, and you opened your eyes to look at him. He smirked as he leaned down towards your neck, giving you a small lick before clamping his teeth down onto your skin, making you gasp in surprise at the sudden pain as your hands came to grip his shoulders for support.
You felt him suck on your skin, suck on your blood, for him to then pull away, another lick of his tongue on the wound he just provoked. He pulled away to look at the new mark on your skin, a symbol, a black swirl. He looked down at you, smiling wickedly as he rubbed your cheek.
“Time for me to give you your punishment.” Your eyebrows pinched together as you looked at him with a completely spent look in your eyes.
“My punishment?”
“Krampus is taking you away for misbehaving… horribly.”
And then the house was silent, the lights gone, candles gone out, fireplace with no embers, and then the townspeople never saw you again.
But children now say that Krampus does not come alone. The figure of a woman always stands in the doorway as he does his job, and his deeds, and the only thing the children can see from the shadows is a wicked smile, her white teeth, and glowing golden eyes.
Same as Krampus.
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End
an: fuck them cute christmas fics
Merry Christmas, you naughty children.
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queenimmadolla · 6 months
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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You surprise Eddie with your baby's first trick-or-treat costume. Spoiler alert: she's adorable.
a/n: for maisie 🩷
more penny and Eddie here
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“I’m waitiiiiiiiiing.” Eddie sang out from the couch, tugging at the neck of the cream colored turtleneck you’d guilted him into wearing. It wasn’t as bad as the sweater he had to wear with it. Truly the ugliest thing he had ever seen. 
  It was so ugly, it offended him and he was a little grumpy about it, which you teased was appropriate considering he was supposed to be dressed as Bert from Sesame Street. 
  Yeah. Sesame Street. 
  The (totally) gay puppets.
“You’ll have to get close.” Eddie had threatened when you pulled out eyeliner, not to line his eyes like you did before one of his shows or a date night, but to link his brows together in the most unrealistic looking unibrow ever. 
  Once upon a time, up until like two Halloweens ago, Eddie had used this day to be completely and thoroughly chaotic. Messy. Well, as messy as the social pariah could be on Halloween. So just really drunk, maybe high—sometimes both—making out with someone who wouldn’t acknowledge his existence the following day (and he was very grateful for you for breaking the curse on that last carefree Halloween). But that was the old Eddie Munson.
  Gone was the Eddie Munson that either went all out–in leather, eyeliner and fake blood–or barely tried with some devil horns and a bad sense of humor for halloween to deal weed and drugs, smoke weed and drink til he threw up, or get fucked. Granted, he wasn’t going through this change alone. 
  Your opportunities to party on Halloween night with your friends–having all gotten ready together for the big, slutty night out–drinking ‘til you were stupid only to wake up on your bedroom floor (sometimes not even yours and on one year, the top of your neighbor’s car) with no real repercussions were no more.
  Your days as primarily careless teenagers and now young adult were over, replaced with enjoying the night in a way you were both surprised to find that you didn’t hate, even as early twentysomethings. 
  Hell, the both of you were eager–even if Eddie had to wear a lame costume. He’d wanted to be Ernie, at least.
  “Shut up!” You called back from the bedroom. Eddie snickered at the amusement hidden under your voice and shifted until he was lounging on his side, arm propped up with his hand.
  “Still waitiiiiiiiing!”
  You’d been hiding a certain costume from him for the past three weeks, and the anticipation was killing him.
  “You are the most impatient man I have ever met.” 
  “I just gotta have you, baby.” Came his immediate response and his grin widened when he realized he didn’t even have to think up replies for your quips, it just came natural now. He knew you that well. Still made him giddy and want to kick his feet in the air.
  He loved being married to you. Sue him.
  “Okay, here we come!” You announced and Eddie scrambled to sit up straight, eagerly leaning forward to get an early peak. 
  You walked down the short hall, dressed in a striped sweatshirt, jeans with the bottoms rolled into cuffs and a pair of red converse. Ernie. But Eddie already knew what your costume was, it was a couple’s costume and you were indeed a couple. 
  It was who you were glancing back at, just out of his line of sight, that held his curiosity. 
  “C’mon, baby. Go show daddy!”
  At your prompting, your baby–just a couple of months over a year old–came waddling out, footsteps awkward as she got used to the orange duck feet covering her own and the padding and stuffing of her yellow duck costume, clutching a bottle you’d given her to keep her from fussing while you got her dressed. Her curly little head and chunky cheeks were framed in the hood of the costume, with the duck’s  head resting on hers.
  “Are you kidding me?” Eddie asked, mouth dropping open as his eyes darted from his cute little spawn in her adorable costume to your smug expression and back, “Are you joking? OH MY GOD!”
  Eddie reached his arms out to Penny, fingers curling into his fists as he made grabby hands, “You are so precious, my little baby, come to daddy!”
  Penny was delighted with his praise, drooly mouth dropping open and big brown eyes sparkling as she rushed forward. Her lack of coordinated motor skills paired with the duck feet and the padding of her duck bottom throwing her equilibrium off meant she immediately lost her balance and you and Eddie both inhaled sharply, quickly rising to attention as she wobbled forward briefly, then fell back on her cushioned tail feathers.
  It was far from a dangerous fall, so you and Eddie stood frozen, waiting for her response so as to not sway her to have a certain response, having taken her to the doctor’s after a fall once only to learn she was perfectly fine and had only started crying because you had. 
  You both learned real quick to wait for her response after falling, sometimes she cried and had a boo boo that Daddy and Mommy could fix with some first aid and a kiss, and other times she'd run right into the wall, get up, and walk away (albeit while muttering in angry baby gibberish).
  Penny blinked once, eyes flying from your face to her dad’s before she wiggled her bum against the floor, set her bottle down next to her and tried to stand up. 
  You both let out matching sighs of relief before Eddie darted forward to scoop her up.
  “Are you rubber ducky?” Eddie asked once he had her situated in his arms. All she did was give him that big, beautiful smile of hers (no longer gummy with the teeth she had coming in but thinking about that made Eddie teary eyed) before her attention strayed to his long curls and her chunky little fist flew out to grab some of it, staring it down before she put it in her mouth.
  “Say, yes, baby.” You encouraged her after picking up her bottle, hand tucking in one of her curls peaking out.
  “Yesh.” She parroted, mouthing aggressively at the hair in her fist. While she was distracted, Eddie took the opportunity to press kisses into her cheek, smothering her in them until she grew annoyed and snapped her head in his direction, mouth wide in protest.
  “Sor-ry!” He huffed, still grinning as he pressed another one into her soft cheek. She was all talk  and no bite. Mostly.
  “What does the duck say, baby?” You asked, trying to prompt her. She could do some of the animal sounds and she’d gotten the duck right a few times.
  “Moooo.” And sometimes she moo’d.
  “That is one interesting duck.” Eddie commented and you shushed him.
  “No, baby. Quack.”
  “Cack.”
  Your heart dropped into your stomach. “Okay, that’s a little too close to–we’ll stick with moo.”
  You grabbed her trick-or-treat bag, a disposable camera and a couple of other things you thought you might need to take her trick-or-treating for the first time, while Eddie continued to coddle her, only putting her down when you were all ready to go. 
  Penny was little miss independent until she caught sight of the steps outside of the trailer. Then she whimpered, dropped her bottle and turned to Eddie, shoving herself at his legs as she reached her little arms up to him.
  “Up! UP! Up!”
  It was mean of him, really it was, because Penny was genuinely afraid of the steps but that also meant she demanded her daddy hold her in his arms, and that wasn’t really a loss for him so he hoped she’d hang onto that fear for a while before she got inventive and found another way to climb down them without him.
  Eddie picked her up and she curled into his chest, chin on his shoulder as she clung to him with the duck head on her hood hitting the side of his face. He was trying to hide his smile but it was much too large to conceal and you glared at him with no malice, more amused with Eddie than anything.
  “It’s okay, sweetpea. Daddy will protect you from those big, mean steps.”
  He cackled as you shook your head with a smile. 
  “You are so messed up, capitalizing off of her fear.”
  “Hey–it’s easy for you, she still demands and needs your boob. Did you see her refuse my kisses in there? I’m fighting for her affection here. And I’m gonna keep doing it, as soon as she gets over her fear of steps, I’m telling her a monster lives underneath them. Now, let's go get some candy I’ll also eat on her behalf.”
  He bounded cheerfully out the door, Penny bouncing in his arms while you locked up behind him and called out in your laughter.
  “And using your baby for candy–oh, you’ve got to choke tonight. I’ll save you, but you’ve got to choke.”
  Eddie paused, waiting for you to catch up as his lips curled into smirk in a very Grinch like manner and you groaned, eyes squeezing shut as you realized what he was implying without having to verbalize it. 
  “I mean, I’d be happy to arrange that–”
  “Keep walking, Bert. We only have an hour and a half so we’d better get a move on if you want a decent amount of candy to steal from your own baby.”
  “I’m not above taking candy from any baby.” He confirmed leaning down just as you leaned up to meet in a kiss, the both of you smiling into it. It was brief, ending when Penny accidentally pecked the both of you with the head of her costume.
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biblio-smia · 6 months
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part one | part two | part three
there's a feeling of dread in mike's stomach the second he wakes up. then, he remembers last night and his chest starts aching, too.
mike forces himself not to dwell on it. not on the disappointment in your eyes. not on the way you'd admitted you'd loved him (was it too late to admit he loved you, too?). not on how mike had ruined the one good thing he had.
mike rubs his eyes, blurry vision refocusing until the Nebraskan trees on his ceiling are clear once again.
mike feels more sluggish than usual as he throws clothes on and struggles to tie his tie, almost like he's still dreaming. he catches the crookedness of his tie in a mirror and imagines it's your fingers instead of his readjusting it.
abby is especially cold to him this morning, clearly not worried about mike realizing she had overheard last night's argument.
mike takes it, not even upset when abby calls him a jerk and throws a plushie at him.
he knows it's his fault. he knows he's been living in his own bubble without space for anyone else and he knows you are not going to come back without a little effort from him first; but the idea of telling you what's really going on is so terrifying mike would almost rather you never speak to him again.
it's really quite pathetic, how helpless mike is when, realistically, all it'd take is a phone call. but mike can't even bear the thought of hearing your voice confirm everything negative he's ever thought about himself.
so mike puts it off.
as soon as he gets this done. as soon as he figures out who kidnapped his brother.
then everything can go back to how it was.
though that uneasiness really never leaves mike that day. not as abby angrily huffs as she exits the car, not as mike shares this dream theory with his co-worker Jeremy, and especially not as mike sees an older man forcing a young boy along.
really, mike didn't even remember tackling the man and beating his face in.
but mike must deal with the consequences.
he is home early and abby has learned not to ask why. she has long since caught on to mike's patterned behaviors, though her childish mind does not quite grasp how it all could affect her. but abby does know that she misses you, wishing that stupid mike would just pick up the phone and call you.
max is her babysitter now. she's nice and she lets abby sit and draw in her room, but she's not you.
abby is on a hunger strike again, one that only you could ever seem to get her off of. mike tries one of your tricks, telling abby she'll never get to ride any adult rides at amusement parks, but she does not give in. at least he's sure they're related. mike can only hope abby's anger at him will mellow out - she has not been this difficult since before you and mike started dating and he has forgotten how to wrangle her.
the next day is better - up until the moment mike is handed a stack of papers asking him to give abby up.
a part of him considers it. who the hell was mike to raise abby? he couldn't maintain a job or relationship. abby has barely spoken to him recently (though mike wonders how much of that has been his own fault) and there have been multiple times throughout the years where mike thinks abby might truly hate him.
but then dr. lillian reminds him that children communicate through pictures and mike almost blurts out your name when she asks who's at the center of all of abby's drawings. and then it dawns on mike that, even before you, it's been mike. it's always been mike and now he is forced to think about how deeply abby loves him, pushing out the voice that tells mike this is impossible.
at home, mike sits in front of the phone and considers calling you. he still half-expects you to come in through the front door sometimes, smile bright and arms warm as you hug him from behind, too impatient for mike to stand and properly greet you. mike can almost feel your fingers on his shoulders and your kisses on his temple - and then he remembers he's alone.
mike shakes the thoughts, though he lets himself imagine your reaction to aunt jane's request. you'd say no, god, you'd rip up the papers, an anger on your face that mike knows isn't directed at him. you'd grab his hands and promise you'll find a way to win.
yeah, you'd be there, right by his side.
as if on cue, abby pipes up suddenly, her attention off the television and on mike and the phone in front of him. "are you finally gonna call?"
"what?" mike asks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion until abby says your name like you're the only person mike should be calling.
"what? no, abby."
"why not?" abby cries, her frustration with mike beginning to return.
"because," mike stammers. "because it's complicated."
abby rolls her eyes. mike sighs and picks up the phone. he doesn't dial your number (that he knows by heart), not quite ready to let you see him while he's so low. instead, he takes a small white business card out of his pocket and dials steve raglan's number.
yes, mike thinks as he looks at abby, he has had a change of heart.
it's been three days since you've seen or heard from mike. there's a certain kind of disappointment that constricts around your throat, making it hard to breathe when you think about it too much. you hadn't explicitly broken up with mike, but you'd given him a choice that he still hadn't acted on. were you too harsh? had trying to pry your way in been a mistake?
no. you weren't happy with how mike had been acting and you had to let it out eventually before it hurt the two of you even more.
but god, why was it so hard for him to just pick up the phone and call you? all he had to do was say i'm sorry. at this point, you'd take just that. maybe if he saw you...
so you make a trip to the mall after work, but nerves start to set in as you drive and your confidence starts to falter. maybe you won't go up to him, but maybe you could just get a glance...
you've been curious to see how he's doing, anyway. you know mike can survive without you but your anxiety won't quit turning your stomach into knots until you see that he's okay.
you don’t spot mike. but your eyes do land on jeremy, who you’d met a few times when dropping things off that mike had forgotten (like his uniform shirt).
thankfully, the security guard spots you first, sending you a friendly wave that you return. he isn’t really expecting you to walk over, especially now that mike’s gone, but he doesn’t really mind.
but then you ask about mike and jeremy’s expression quickly becomes confused.
“mike got, uh… let go. two days ago.”
"let go?" you don't bother hiding the confusion on your face. if you had known, you wouldn't have been here.
"yeah... didn't he tell you? that's something pretty hard to hide."
"we're not... together. um, i mean, we don't live together... we argued. it's complicated."
jeremy smiles understandingly, a little amused.
"well, i didn't know him for long, but i know he was crazy about you. i mean, i thought he was a real dick until you stopped by and i saw how he acted around you. i mean, he was like a little kid with a crush," jeremy laughs, before he raises his hands defensively. "look, i don't know what happened, but he's probably beating the shit out of himself for it."
you let yourself laugh a little, your cheeks a little warm in embarrassment. "yeah, i'll keep that in mind. thanks." you turn to walk away, only getting a few steps away before another inquiry pops into your head. "do you know... if he's working somewhere else now?"
jeremy frowns as he shakes his head. "no idea. it was all kind of... messy."
you wonder what he means briefly but any chance to ask for more details is stripped as a static-y voice comes through jeremy's walkie-talkie. you decide not to bother the guard anymore, waving your goodbye and walking back to your car.
what did mike do?
that night, max enters the schmidt home to abby's screams. she stands in the doorway curiously, watching mike shut abby in her room as she takes her raincoat off.
"she's all yours." mike grumbles, heading back into his room.
though as sleep finds max on the couch with the tv playing softly in the background, she does not hear the soft padding of abby's feet sneak into the dining room. abby's small hands move the phone to a position that is more comfortable for her to dial in a number she does not know by heart, but has written on a piece of paper that has "in case of emergencies!" scrawled at the top. abby hopes you aren't asleep as the line rings, grinning when she finally hears your voice. it's been so long! abby almost squeals, but remembers she must be quiet.
"hello? who is this?" your voice rings, a little impatient.
"hi! it's me!" abby whispers loudly.
"abby? honey? is something wrong?"
"everything's wrong!" abby sighs. "mike won't take me with him to work and i have to stay here with max and i don't want to!"
you hold the phone to your chest momentarily as you sigh. no real emergency. a part of you is relieved, while another wonders how mike would feel about this. if he'd feel anything at all. (and maybe there's a part that's disappointed you don't have an excuse to see abby and mike).
"max is your new babysitter?" you're a little hurt mike would go so far as to hire someone else rather than just call you - did he really not want to see you that much?
"mhm," abby nods. "she's sleeping on the couch right now - that's why i'm whispering!"
you stifle a laugh at abby's antics, listening carefully as another voice (seemingly still half-asleep), max, asks abby who she's talking to.
"my friends," abby responds, her voice sounding a little more faraway before her attention returns to you. "i miss you," abby whines.
"i miss you, too, abs. so much." and you didn't really realize how much you did until now, an ache in your chest spreading at the sound of her sweet voice.
"can you come over? please?"
"no, abby, i don't think that's a good idea." you sigh. you really didn't want to put more pressure on mike and risk running him out for good, even if he wasn't currently at home.
"mike is a jerk!" abby groans, bringing the phone down to the floor as she lays on her stomach. "and i know he's sorry, he's just being stupid."
"hey," you warn gently. "you know he... tries his best," you sigh. "he's just not that great at talking about his feelings."
"well, he took my vest," abby tells you. "and he wouldn't let me come with him to work."
"he's going to work at this hour?"
"mhm! he works during the night now. at the abandoned pizzeria?"
"now, why would you want to go with mike there?" you laugh lightly.
abby's giggles grace your ears and your heart hurts despite your smile. "it's fun! i wanna go!"
you really can't fathom how abby manages to find a place like that appealing, shaking your head softly through the phone.
and then that other voice, max, speaks up again, less groggily this time. "abby, are you actually talking to someone?"
"no!" abby lies. "i have to go! bye!"
you don't even get the chance to wish her sweet dreams before the line goes dead, leaving you with that sad feeling in your stomach and a lump in your throat that you fear might turn into tears.
the next day, you're barely home when the phone starts to ring. you pull it off the hook quickly, remembering last night's caller.
"hello?"
your intuition was correct; abby's voice greets you on the other side of the line.
"can you come over? it's really an emergency this time!"
"abby? what's wrong?" there's worry in your voice and you're suddenly grateful you haven't even had the chance to take your shoes off.
"i can't tell you over the phone. just come quick, please?"
you don't even ask where mike is before you nod. "okay, i'll be right there. ten minutes, okay?"
you hang up the phone and practically speed to mike's.
your hands tremble slightly as you try to shove the spare key in, twisting the doorknob and shoving it open quickly.
mike's name is on the tip of your tongue before your eyes land on the man himself and abby, both crouched as the clean up spilled items from that stupid, always-stuck drawer.
"wha... what's the emergency?" your voice falters and you're beginning to think there was no real emergency after all (how could you know that the sight of a woman wanting to talk to mike constituted an emergency in abby's little head?).
mike looks at you confused and a little shocked while abby grins. she leaps up to wrap her small arms around you and you bend down to reach her height.
"abby..." you begin, but she's off before you can even finish, the soft shut of her door the only thing filling the silence between you and mike as abby disappears.
you sigh as you straighten, wondering if you should just turn around now. "she... called, said it was an emergency." you're avoiding mike's eyes, only keeping the lower half of his body in your peripheral.
mike sighs. "abby!" he calls, his hands on his hips and his head down, though he knows it's no use.
"sorry," the both of you blurt out, looking up at each other at the same time before quickly glancing away.
"no, i'm sorry," mike steps closer to you now, hands balling up the hem of his hoodie. "for... everything."
you look up at mike now and you can see that he means it.
"i'm sorry for shutting you out. i'm sorry for getting angry. i'm sorry for not calling."
you can tell his hands want so desperately to be on you and you step closer, putting your hands in his.
"i was stupid." mike pulls you closer, just now realizing how much he's missed everything about you: your touch, your scent, the way you fit so perfectly against him. the way he can never keep his hands off you, not even for a second. "and i'm so, so, sorry." mike's voice has dropped to a hushed whisper, his eyes scanning yours for any hint of forgiveness.
"okay," you begin, hands dropping to mike's waist as you pull him in for a hug. "okay," you nod, holding him so tight mike feels like he could cry.
"i'll tell you everything," mike whispers. and he does.
he thought it'd be easier, considering it was the second time he'd told the tragic story of his childhood in the span of about thirty minutes. but sitting next to you, your thumb rubbing soothing circles into the back of his hand, mike began choking up which led to you crying, too.
"you never told me," you said, voice soft.
"i know. i'm sorry."
"no, no," you shake your head. "this is... big. i understand why you don't talk about it." mike nods, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. "it's a lot," you continue, wiping your own tears away. "it explains a lot."
"what do you mean?"
"why you suck at opening up."
that makes mike laugh. and there's a part of him that's mended by your words. to you, he's not difficult. not unlovable. he just... sucks at opening up.
"yeah, i guess i am pretty bad at that." mike keeps his eyes down, hands still playing with yours.
you shrug. "you're getting better."
and mike's heart soars.
he looks up at you with nothing but hearts in his eyes, his head tilting ever so slightly as he leans in closer. you meet him halfway, eyes closing once you feel mike's lips against yours again - softly, sweetly. your hands drop and find the back of his neck while mike's land on your hips, bringing you closer as you both feed the hunger you've been fighting off for days.
"finally!" abby's voice interrupts you and mike as you spring away from each other, wiping your lips with warm faces.
"you," mike points, getting out of his chair. "are in so much trouble."
abby squeals as she dodges past mike and straight into your arms, clinging on tight.
"okay, abs, what did we talk about when using the phone?" you ask, pushing a stray ringlet into place.
"that it's only for emergencies," abby recalls a little glumfully, though you're glad she doesn't bring up the little chat you two had.
"and what do you say for lying about an emergency?" mike pitches in sternly, hands on his hips.
"it was an emergency!" abby insists, turning from you to mike and back. "mike was talking to vanessa."
"vanessa?" your eyebrows raise, a little amused as you glance from abby to mike.
"what? abby, it's not even like that!" mike insists, face warm and hoping you won't get the wrong idea. "vanessa is a police officer who comes by freddy's sometimes," mike explains, partially to abby but mostly to you. you try not to giggle at mike's flustered state.
"see, abs? nothing to worry about." and really, you know there isn't. it took mike two months and a direct confession to realize you were into him; there was no way anything had happened between him and vanessa.
"so, you two are together again?" abby asks hopefully, eyes glimmering.
you glance at mike, who's hiding his face in his hands and groaning. "well, technically, we were never broken up," you tell abby, patting her face as she smiles, clearly satisfied. "good," she says. "don't." and then she's off again, back to the comfort of her room and her imaginary friends.
"are you serious?" mike's voice is clear now as his head leaves his palms. "that wasn't a breakup?"
your head tilts in confusion. "well, i never technically said the words, 'i'm breaking up with you,' so no, it wasn't a breakup. more like a break."
"what the hell? that was one of the most awful experiences of my entire life, and it wasn't even an actual breakup?"
mike is so evidently torn you can't help but laugh, standing to pull him in and catch him in a kiss.
"act right and you'll never have to experience one," you whisper in his ear.
mike nods profusely, arms wrapped around you tightly as he pulls you in again and again, lips not leaving your skin for more than a few seconds at a time.
and really, he has no idea how he's been managing to survive without you.
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OKAY OKAY... do we want a part 3 that would wrap up the rest of the movie?? (itd have more angst + flluff <3) pls let me know <3
requests for mike schmidt are open!
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josnhoes · 9 months
Text
Platonic!Yan batfam with young adult reader. Part 5
[Part 4]
Note: Reader is 18-22 years old. Gn reader
Content warning: being treated like a child, being looked down on, obsessions, soft yandere but still a yandere, reader has memory issues and it's ambiguous as to why, delusional batfam, batfam as a whole basically view you as a child younger then Damien despite you being older, dissociation, abduction, drugging, so many lies
Focus Bruce Wayne (all his POV)
-----
Bruce hadn't wanted you to ever see the cruelty of the world. It's why he and your siblings worked so hard to prepare a room for you in the manor as swiftly as they could. You were too good for Gotham, maybe even the world. He wanted your integration into the family as seemless as possible. Painless too. But maybe he should have listened to his youngest after that first visit of his.
Damian had been insistent you couldn't handle life on your own. That you needed them to care for you, which he agreed with! He just also knew he couldn't just take you. They were heros they couldn't just abduct you. He told Damian and the others to treat you like a feral cat. Stay close but give you space, step in when need be and let you warm up to them. And look what happened.
You were barely here mentally. The trauma haze and shock yet to leave you, if not made worse by the lie *he* told you. You'd forgive him once you were better, you'd realize he was just doing what he had to do as your father. The risk of you going home was too great now.
He remembered the panic when you woke up in the room the family had made for you in the cave. He had been there in costume. The sight of him had managed to calm you. He was glad for that, it meant you thought of him as safe. You shouldn't considering he lied to your face.
The lie was simple one, easily kept up by the entire family. The mugging you had seen planted a target on you. The woman you tried to save, her parents were well-known crimelords in Star City, and they blamed *you* for their daughter's death. A hit was out on you; so you had to stay here with them until it was safe.
The news had made the shock you were in worse, making your mental state deteriorate more than when you'd first arrived. But he was happy to see the moments where the fog lifted, where you opened up to them again. Once he was sure you were attached, he'd let them all meet you outside of the costumes but that was a while away.
By the third day you'd gone from a husk to a crying mess. They'd all tried to consol you even himself. He made a promise that soon things would get better. And they would! You'd join the family, he'd spoil you with anything and everything you could dream of. You'd be in the manor properly and not in the cave.
Your sadness was a knife in his heart. Like any good parent, he just wanted you to be safe and happy. Bruce knew that for now, safety was key. Still he wouldn't lie again and say he wasn't envious when one of your siblings got you to smile. So far Damian and Jason had been the ones managing to get you to relax best. The nickname Sparky had taken over among all of them.
There were a few moments where your panic would rise up, you'd demand to know when you could go home becoming hysterical at the idea of losing your job and subsequently your home. He knew you wouldn't lose your home since it was here with them as for a job? You were still so young you didn't need one. Still, you'd work yourself up so much that whoever was near had to drug you. The tranquilizer was a gentle one. You were only out a few hours and much calmer when you came to. The downside is you forgot a lot that happened, though for now, that was a blessing.
He couldn't wait for you to meet his father figure, your grandfather Alfred. Sure, you'd met him when you first got here, but you didn't remember it. It's probably for the best, considering you'd likely have put the 2 and 2 together before he was ready for you to have that information.
Bruce reached over to your resting form and fixed the blanket that had fallen off of your shoulder. Soon, you'd take your place in the family, and no one was having an easy time waiting for it.
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loviingpedri · 5 months
Text
one of his girls tonight - hector fort
prompt: he can’t get enough of you.
warnings: cursing, drinking, clubbing, suggestive content, grammar issues, not intense smut (viewer discretion is still advised)
please let me know if more since this is going to be a little explicit.
any italicized texts are lyrics
credits to owners for all images
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what else do young adults do in their free time? party, of course.
nothing like a hot saturday night in barcelona when the city was awake as people went out.
“y/n! my sexy girl, let’s go!” going out with your friends at least once a month was a must. meeting new people, kissing strangers, waking up next to someone random.
everything felt like a fever dream. especially that one boy you shared an unforgettable kiss with. last month, you were drunk out of your mind. you met this one guy, he had brown fluffy hair and touched you in the right places. your friends always said you were gonna go home with him and make him yours for the night. until, a random girl walked up to you and slapped you. either you just made out with someone’s boyfriend or someone was a complete control freak over him.
you hoped to see him tonight. some reassurance of what happened last month. and if he’s single, maybe you’ll keep him wrapped around your finger this time.
“alright! i’m ready!” you grabbed your small purse that barely fit anything in it and ran into the uber with the 10 other people in it. “a bit crowded?” you laughed as some people were sitting on each other’s laps.
“anything to save money and not have a designated driver tonight. today’s the day where all hell will break lose.” going out with a group of people was safer, calmer, and more fun.
lately, your life had been hitting every single positive goal in life. you spent your days with the people who brought out the best. little did you know, you would meet the person who would see you inside and out.
getting out the car was a hassle. thanking the driver and running to show your ids to the bouncer. already pre-gamed at your tiny apartment, it was finally time to let loose.
“it’s fucking hot in here.” one of your dearest friends spoke to you as you tried to mingle on the dance floor.
“i just finished my makeup 20 minutes ago and i can feel it melting already.” you fanned yourself to keep composed.
“y/n, that guy keeps staring at you.” looking behind your shoulder. you saw the one and only boy, the one with the best lips you’ve ever felt on yours.
“holy shit. that’s the guy with the crazy girl that slapped me.” you looked at your friend in disbelief. he must’ve went out to the clubs a lot if you continued to see him.
“go up to him. i don’t see her around. ask him what that whole fight was about. take a shot though, you’re gonna need it.” turning around, you could already see his eyes going up and down from behind you. meeting with your friends at the bar and downing shots after shots. finally feeling the alcohol in your system, a new boost of confidence was found.
walking up to him, you spotted different girls surrounding him. as you got closer, he sat up straight and tried to distance himself. sitting down next to him, he sat there frozen.
“hey, aren’t you the guy from a few weekends back?” for a guy who seemed popular around the ladies, he seemed pretty fucking nervous around you.
“yeah i am. sorry about that slap. i don’t know what happened. she’s not my girlfriend by the way. just someone random.” he spoke so fast, fidgeting with his hands. considering you already made out with him, there was no reason for him to be scared.
“you seem very popular. met anyone you like?” he wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. you listened closely to the song in the background as he tried to form an answer.
push me down, hold me down.
spit in my mouth while you turn me on. i wanna take your light inside.
“you. can’t ignore a pretty girl like you.” he began to play into your little game. slowly, you touched his shoulder and sat closer to him in a comfortable position.
“oh yeah? well, this ‘pretty girl’ has to know your name first.”
and i’m screamin’ out. give me tough love.
“my name is hector. yours?”
“i’m y/n. you have a little something on your neck.” spotting a red kiss-mark on his neck, obviously not from you, you smudged it off.
we don’t gotta be in love no. i don’t gotta be the one, no.
i just wanna be one of your girls tonight.
“wishing it was your lipstick?” he give a little grin, trying to rile you up. you looked at him, his way of words trying to get into your pants was working.
“i don’t need to wish.” within seconds, your lips happened to be on hector’s. your legs straddling him while he rubbed your thighs.
he knows how to get the best out of me.
his hands were grabbing your waist as you felt the material of his pants under you. he continued rubbing your thighs, but he slowly made it up to your ass. as you gasped for air, he decided it was a good time to slip in his tongue.
finally breaking the kiss, you hear him whimper for more even over the loud music. smiling at him, you made your way to his neck and jaw. you planted a few kisses here and there, then you could feel his hand start to go under your dress.
“not here, but i know a few places.” making eye contact, you already knew where this was going.
hector wanted to you to be his girl every night.
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author’s note: author gone wild. imagination got the best of me and i know this is not likely of my stories. let me know if i did good for these kind of storylines!
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thereticx · 3 months
Text
ᴏᴄᴇᴀɴ | ᵉʳᵉⁿ ʲᵃᵉᵍᵉʳ
(this contains sexual content)
There's nothing more comforting than spending time alone, shielded from the outside world, from the day to day problems, where you can stop and breathe and just–live.
His hair was a mess of dark brown locks spread out on the wet field of grass, the smell was fresh which Eren inhaled deeply. For him, this was heaven, under the big three with an immense crown of leaves preventing the sunlight from hurting his eyes.
One hour, perhaps too–he never bothered to count. Eren closed his eyes for a bare second, his chest moving up and down. In his euphoric state he felt the gentle pads of your fingers massaging his scalp. You entangled each and every strand, twirling them around your fingers and tugging slightly but not enough to hurt him.
”What are you doing?”
”Resting”
”Well, get up. People may pass by and mistake you for a drunk or worse” Eren felt the person hit his leg causing him to open his eyes and see who was bothering him.
Carla, his mother, was standing there with her arms crossed over her chest ”No one ever comes here” He replied, inspecting his clothes that were slightly wet now ”Huh…”
Eren offered her a smile then kissed her forehead ”Armin passed by on his way to the library. He said you guys would be going to a concert tonight”
Carla wrapped a hand on her son's upper arm and started walking back to their house. She made small talk for the whole 15 minutes until they reached the front door. Eren was not chatty when being woken up and he only nodded at everything his mother said " Now go shower, you smell”
Eren laughed and thanked her before disappearing up the stairs.
(flashback)
Everything was perfect. The weather, the food, the drinks, the people–”Cmon Connie sing us some more”.
”I expect you assholes to pay me by the end of this” He smirked, moving his fingers along the guitar chords. Connie started playing back in freshman year of highschool, hoping that one day it'll be more than a hobby to pass time and entertain others.
Eren nuzzled his nose in your neck, kissing it softly. His lips were cold and wet, trailing up the shell of your ear ”How are you feeling?Do you like it?”. He moved his hand on your thigh, resting it eventually on your knee ”I love it here”. You said, stroking his knuckles with your thumb.
Nights like these weren't out of the ordinary here. Every young adult came to the beach during summer break, partying and just living their youth. Just a glance at your friends and at him–swaying their bodies, singing along and opening another can of beer, except for your boyfriend. Eren squeezed your body closer to his and let his head rest on top of yours ”You still have time to change your mind. Just say that you'll stay”
”Eren–”
”I know, I know. But consider it at least. This way we won't have to say goodbye”
You moved your head to the side, crushing your lips onto his, in a rushed kiss ”Wanna get out of here”
He smirked, lowering his hand closer to your inner thigh, having no shame ”Finally”
The memory was sweet. Whenever he felt lonely or just utterly lost, he would close his eyes and relive that night again. It was the last one where the two of you could describe yourself as truly happy and in love.
When you left, Eren's life suddenly stopped. After four years he's still stuck. Looking around him, at his friends, his family he may think ‘It’s time to let go’.
“Yes..”
“What was that darling?” His mother asked while rolling the dough on the counter. Carla smiled and wiped her hands full of flour on the worn out apron.
Eren mumbled under his breath, continuing to cut the vegetables as his mother requested. He found cooking a hobby to distance himself from whatever inconvenience and with Carla beside him, time would fly by.
“Careful with that knife, darling” She said, before checking the food on the stove.
Eren sat the knife aside “I'm done. Do you need help with anything else?"
His mother shook her head and kissed him on the cheek “No. You can go”
“Ok” He smiled.
“Connie! Stop changing the song” Sasha repeated for the ninth time in the last hour.
She checked her makeup in the mirror before handing her small makeup bag to Eren “You'd be lucky to not poke your eye out”
He chuckled before applying the black eye pencil to his waterline, smudging it just the tiniest bit.
“I can't wait until we get there” Mikasa announced, the excitement radiating from her face. She was dressed with a black leather dress, silver jewelry completing her look. The girl was a huge fan of rock music since she was little, dragging her friends to every concert nearby. Slowly, they became obsessed with it too.
“We still have to pick up Jean” Connie remembered, resting his hand outside the window, the smoke from the cigarette disappearing in the wind. Before Sasha could notice he took her phone and changed the song to one of Arctic Monkeys.
The girl wanted to say something but Connie interrupted her “It's my turn to pick” She slumped back into her seat and started singing along.
“Jean texted. He's waiting for us”
Connie nodded before taking the last drag of the cigarette and let the stick get lost out the window.
___
The music was loud. People were screaming their lungs out but despite that he couldn't hear anything. Everything went quiet.
Fuck
Swaying bodies bumped into each other, hundreds and hundreds of faces and yet he only could focus on yours.
Hair sticking to your glowing face, lace black top revealing more of your chest, black pants hugging your curves just right.
You were happy, so happy. Singing with your friends, taking videos when suddenly your eyes landed on him.
Fuck
He was breathtaking just like the last time you've seen him. Leather jacket with a cropped shirt that revealed a slight part of his tattoo.
Would it be wrong to make your way over to him? Would he be welcoming?
Your friend nudged you by the arm and tried to whisper something in your ear “What?!” You screamed, unable to decipher what she just said.
She suddenly grabbed your face and screamed “Go to him!”
That's all you needed.
You squeezed your way over to his unmoved figure.
Should I hug him?! No. A smile should do it. Yeah.
And a smile it was indeed. When his lips parted yours and his tongue tasted yours. You smiled briefly, tangling your fingers into his long brown strands. His eyeliner was smudged adding a contrast to his beautiful green eyes.
He cradled your body further, until your chest squished on his. Eren angled your jaw to deepen the kiss, his breathing getting faster.
No words were spoken that night. The kisses and the touches were enough.
__
His body trapped you underneath, his hands ripping off the lacy top you wore, revealing your breasts to him. Lowering his head he desperately started to suck on them.
Eren loved your breasts. He worshiped them like some kind of divinity. Sucking and pulling and massaging the plumpness of your chest, all to get a reaction out of you.
You tugged on his hair, pushing your pelvis up, hopefully to rub onto his hard erection.
He gently rubbed his thumb on the side of your neck, encouraging you to keep going.
With a hand on his chest you pushed him on the bed, his back resting on the ruffled sheets.
Eren helped you settle on top of him, his fingers unbuttoning your pants. His eyes analyzed your face, searching for some sort of inconvenience–there was none.
Slowly but surely the two of you undressed each other.
When was the last time you had him inside you? A long time ago. But your body seemed to remember him–your all too beloved boyfriend.
The eyeliner ran down his face, his long hair untamed as he moved brutally inside you.
You felt the heat build up, the pleasure overtaking you.
Eren forced his tongue inside your mouth, swallowing your moans.
His hand grabbed your neck while he emptied himself inside you, his body shaking before collapsing on top of you.
None of you said anything. You didn't dare. Because once you speak then nothing’s gonna feel real anymore.
“Good morning, my love”
Your fiancé greeted, setting the tray of food on the nightstand. He,like always, prepared breakfast for you. It was a habit of his, to spoil his favorite person whenever he had a day off.
You smiled lazily, shifting under the blanket, your inner thighs uncomfortably drenched.
Oh, you felt awful. Fantasizing about your ex boyfriend who you haven't seen for years. Dreaming about the times when he made each night memorable for you two.
“Thank you. I love you” You whispered, fully convinced of your words.
He kissed you on the forehead and left the room but not before he mumbled an ‘i love you’ to you.
(flashback)
The ocean memory was the last one you had with him. That night when you got naked and let the water gently wash your skin.
Eren buried his face into your wet hair while you silently cried in his chest. He hated that you were hurting, that your relationship was hurting.
Seeing you helpless and yet still hopeful that everything will be ok. You must still have a chance. It can't be over now.
“I just want to enjoy this sight of you for the last time” He said to you. Heartbroken over your leave.
The two of you were young, so young. Why were your souls forced to break apart from each other? When they desperately tried to cling to one another.
“Don't say that”
He scoffed, trailing his hand down your back. Eren led you out of the water and on the blanket that was spread on the cooling sand.
If this was the last time he'll see you–it might as well be spent right.
He took you there. Locking your arms behind your back, his lips biting your shoulder.
The hour was late and the beach was absent of any presence other than yours.
“Ah-Eren” You whispered, feeling his dick rub against your g spot.
He sneaked a hand down, rubbing your clit in fast circles, your ass pushing against him further “My needy girl”
Eren moaned, his hips picking up the pace, chasing his release. He forced your body up, the new angle reaching deeper into your sweet cunt.
Your back was pressed against his front, a hand forcing your head up. Eren pushed his thumb past your lips, your lips parting. He was so close and yet so far. You needed his body engraved on yours.
“Eren-llove you” You cried, the pleasure becoming too much. You started to tremble and Eren immediately wrapped his arms around you, holding you stil.
“I know, baby. I know. I love you too”
Fuck, don't leave…
Please don't fucking leave me
Looking back, you wouldn't have left. The sorrow on his face proved how wrong the decision to move away was.
Years later and you still pay the price. The constant thoughts about him, the dreams, the little things and objects you see transporting you to a time you wished you had buried.
The decision to break away from him came back to prey on your weak soul. ‘Blessing’ you with a life of dread, with fake promises of love and all to artificial smiles.
And now, nights like this have stirred a sense of comfort in you. While you scrolled through his Instagram pictures, seeing him following his dreams, following freedom–while you were still a prisoner of a perfectly dictated life, just what you'd wished.
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drawnfamiliarfaces · 5 months
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If Chase Yuong and the First Ninja start a fight, who will win in your opinion? Either way, it's going to be epic.
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anon ANON thank you. I've been dying to think more about those two in the same context, ever since i realized the similarities of these two idiots i like (greenish hair? martial artist? magical? kinda lived long???) But i've shoved those crossover-ish ideas away since i am busy with other stuff lol. but this gives me an excuse >;)
Ok, if we do NOT take canons in consideration (because lets be truthful, cartoons rarely can give a full scope of a character to our satisfactions lol) so I have 2-3 vague scenarios in which they clash (IMO either of them can win??? (because i like them both, even if i am more of First fan, so I cant decide who of them winning would be more entertaining lol)):
If First Ninja in his prime (sometime after imprisoning Sorcerer but before the Ultimate Lesson) clashed with 700 yo Chase Young (since this fucker is canonically 1500 yo) who would probably try to defeat First in order to make him part of his Jungle Cats harem:
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Chase is ridiculously, stupidly overpowered but one could argue that at 700 he hasn't yet reached the height of all his powers, so First would certainly have a fighting chance. First is supposedly uniquely trained since (probably) his birth by his Ninja Clan and continuous battles with the Sorcerer (and most likely other creatures, like Sorceress and Tengu and etc.) throughout his teenage-young adult life to take on enemies like Chase - overpowered magical beings/soulless monsters - with the help of Ninja Mask and all its powers.
Admittingly, in this case the win will most likely go to Chase, if only because of his experience and overwhelming array of powers at his disposal. Though considering we do not know the full scope of Ninja Mask's powers, First has like maybe 15-25% chance to win (and at least 30-45% in my mind if i consider my own hc about the mask lol), but not 0%.
If First Ninja's 800 yo. spirit somehow was released from/embodied by Ninjanomicon to clash with 1500 yo Chase Young in the Modern Present:
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Here a lot of my hc come in play. I fully believe that if First - with all the developed abilities, experiences, memories, power (and possibly spirits) acquired during his stay/merge within the Ninjanomicon and from over like 200 people who ever used the mask over 800 years - fought 1500 yo Chase - who spent at least a century or 2 or 3?? hidden away in his Fortress, growing just a bit complacent, since he clearly became too strong and thus bored of the world when it couldn't offer him decent opponents anymore, at least not until current Monks - the fight could go either way.
Chase is still stupidly OP, but its clear that he was deprived of good opponents for a loooooong time, since he resorted to fight against/taunt teenagers and Omi, who is basically a kid still. And they frequently managed to outmanoeuvre him in their confrontations, if not in an actual hand-to-hand fight then at least in common sense lol.
Meanwhile First trained and learned with his each of his successors years in and out, and while we dont know exactly what sort of things happened, we can say for sure that the fighting was continuous. Ninja barely had any rest, for the Sorcerer probably attracted chaos inclined allies and minions and thus a never ending stream of enemies for Ninja to battle.
If basic bitches clash aka OG Good Chase and First Ninja before he was First Ninja:
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This is just for fun and because I fully believe that pre-Ninja Mask First will trounce Good Chase. xD
We do not know Chase's past, and there are various headcanons on how he came to be a Xiaolin Monk, but let's just say that judging by his apperance and XS voice, he is probably a very young adult-ish before he drunk his Soup, so he most likely was a Monk since at least his pre-teen/teen years. He appears to be insecure in his Monk-ness and in his abilities to become the greatest warrior despite his competence, since he was swayed/manipulated/convinced? to sell his soul to a demon for more power and freedom from Monk values.
If we judge First's appearance and voice, he would be perhaps a slight bit older than Chase when he became The Ninja, and not to mention since he was born into the Ninja Clan, he was likely trained since he was very young. His personality appears to be very studious and there is certainly a great deal of strength in his character since he not only managed to continue on with his duty even after loosing his brothers but also not succumbing to the overwhelming Power of the Mask that can corrupt those of weak belief and hold the title of the Ninja longer than anyone else.
(Not to mention I am of very biased opinion that Ninjas are cooler than Monks. lol. Also we can assume they all have magic of some sort. Like think Naruto like Ninjas and Xiaolin Elemental Dragons/Monks.)
ALSO in case 1, obviously if they fought with the agreement that if Chase wins he would ABSOLUTELY add First into his Jungle Cat harem. First will most likely add/request a stipulation that Ninja Mask was not taken with First and I can see Chase honoring that agreement, so the Ninja legacy will continue on and Chase still gets an incredible warrior to his ranks, and perhaps more warriors if the future ex-Ninjas would decide to try and fight him later on. ;)
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(first's animal form would be either a leopard or iriomote cat (both native to Japan) or a crow because tengu connection/associations ;D )
And if First wins, he certainly would figure out how to contain Chase, (perhaps even in the Ninjanomicon itself hohoho) since he somehow managed to contain a sorcerer that controls chaos with some binding, magic from a mythical beast and in a deep hole that perhaps connected to some dark realm, like??
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;)
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dadsbongos · 4 months
Text
the girl next door - t.ino
part of the jjk movie marathon event / movie selection … warnings - unrealistic dick sucking?, testicles, facial, camgirl/solo star reader, consensual video recording/posting, i still can't do smut without fluff its just a fact word count - 1.8 K / rating - R
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Takuma is young. It shows in every possible aspect of his life. His hair is thick and full, his skin is smooth and unweathered, he can’t afford a house so he signed an apartment lease. And finally, he daydreams about his pretty neighbor when he should be focusing on not dying via curse or filing boring paperwork (anytime he has to be a real adult, honestly).
Since the moment you first moved in, he was hooked. Offering to lift all your heavy possessions into your unit right beside his, all for little more than the promise of a cold beer. A beer that you’d offered. He would’ve done the job for free.
Nanami insisted that the initial infatuation would pass as you continued being neighbors. He was wrong.
Takuma’s distractingly massive crush continued to snowball until eventually, he was sure it could be categorized as obsession. But to be fair to him, you fed into it.
Having dinner with him. Checking in after every lengthy mission. Trading spare keys to your apartments. Knocking on his door in the deep dark night when you hear something go bump.
Tonight, it’s his turn to startle out of bed - ears burning with your scream still bouncing around his skull. His skin is prickled and damp with sweat, body still slumping with exhaustion as he clumsily slams towards his front door. By the time Takuma’s exposed to chilly night air, he’s fully awake - thin sleep shirt and boxers doing nothing to protect his shivering limbs.
Maybe it’s the sorcerer in him, but his head immediately goes to the worst; past gutters and garbage pails and dingy avenues and straight into hell. Bodies ripped apart and rotting away. Darkness that lingers through any hour of the day. Caution tape he and Nanami could be ducking under to perform their own investigation.
He slips through your door - barely able to hear the sounds of your whimpering and huffing over his own labored breaths.
A plain white door seals your noises. The door you’ve told him leads to nothing more than a boring guest room. Another yelp draws Takuma to the metallic knob, it’s cold in his hand.
Takuma is young. Reckless and blindly following his instinct. He thinks he’s mature and seasoned as a sorcerer, and he doesn’t stop to consider more plausible explanations when he’s already certain you’re in danger.
Preferably, when he barged in - you’d still be unharmed and he could save the day and finally work up the courage to make things official.
When Takuma barges in you’re unharmed, but more eye-catching than that - you’re not in need of saving. At all.
A man with long, flowing black hair that you’d once introduced as an old high school friend glares up at him from a chair in the corner. In front of the boy is a camera on a tripod. In front of the camera, is you on your back - arched up - hips tittering and twitching against the vibrator strapped cruelly to your clit.
“Uh- hah?” you look up, eyes glazed as your muscles seize up and legs clench shut, hips bucking wildly against the stubborn buzzing, “‘kuma!”
The man sitting behind the camera throws his hands up, evidently frustrated, before shutting off the vibrator.
Takuma clenches his eyes shut, both to block out the sight and memory of you calling his name as you came, “Shit- sorry!”
He rushes back out the room, only pausing when he hears your voice - a little cracked and raw, “Hey, wait!”
You’re clenching a silky crimson sheet over your shoulders as if the thin, draping material could possibly leave much to the imagination. As if he hadn’t seen and heard positively everything, you shyly avoid meeting his eyes before asking in that fried voice,
“Does this change anything?”
Rearing his head back in shock, Takuma immediately denies, shaking his head vigorously, “What?” his head bends down a little, desperately trying to find your gaze, “That you make porn?” he rubs the back of his neck, “Nah, just embarrassed I- you know…”
You do know.
You hum, squeezing the sheet tighter around your bare body. Pure boyishness in his flustered nature, something polite and sweet and youthful. All tongue and tenderness. It makes you want to tear him up between your canines. See just how embarrassed he can get.
“If you’re ever interested, then you can be in a couple.”
You almost wish you had the camera pointed at Takuma to catch his adorable jaw drop, “For real?!”
“There’s something very special about this video,” you tilt your head, resting it against your shoulder, “I’d like to introduce someone.”
Reaching out, you snag Takuma by the shirt and drag his stiff body closer to your side. He stumbles into frame, watching with wide eyes as his hard cock bobs by your face. Your smile is nothing but sly, dripping sex appeal as you bat your lashes at the camera. He feels hot, entirely unused to the feeling of this faux third presence in the bedroom. The nerves settle into something more familiar when you reach up, lovingly scathing your nails across the thick planes of his bare thighs.
You press your cheek against the reddening skin, a shadow casting across your eyes and nose as his erection hangs above your face. It twists the unpleasantness in his gut back to arousal. Nice, warm, familiar arousal. Running the tip of your index finger along the underside all the way to his drooling slit, “My newest toy. And if this goes well, then he might just become a regular addition.”
He knows what you mean. But the intimidation factor still rests heavily in his muscles. He knows you wouldn’t dump him over what your viewers had to say; but as he stares at that shiny lens, he feels that delusional angst begin clawing up from the bottom of his throat.
Then he feels your soft lips press against the ticklish spot on his hip. A soft dew is left behind by your gloss, and he briefly wonders how many times he’d be called an idiot if he got the residue’s imprint tattooed.
Your previous teasing grin morphs into something more genuine. Your boyfriend’s red in the face with both hands stuffed behind his back to avoid obstructing the camera’s view of its star.
“Try to relax for me, yeah?” you mutter against his skin, “Trust me - the best stuff is when you’re really enjoying yourself.”
He tries to grin, but the pounding of his heart is too obnoxious to ignore, “Don’t wanna embarrass myself.”
“You won’t,” you straighten up on your knees, petting a hand down the back of his thigh, “You can watch it back if you want. If you don’t like it, it won’t go up.”
His shoulders loosen, he nods, “Yeah, yeah - okay!” suddenly, he’s looking back at the camera, “You won’t leave this in, right?”
“‘Course not,” you kiss his hip bone again, “Just relax and have fun, baby. Best stuff is all raw.”
You lean up on your knees, pooling frothy spit to the perch of your lips and letting it dribble over the warm, flushed head of Takuma’s cock. Your hand spreads the mess down his length while your tongue strips up the underside of him. Kissing his cockhead before sliding your boyfriend into your mouth.
He whines a little, hips subconsciously bucking deeper into your warm maw. His tip pops past the rim of your throat and his arms come up and press against his lips, trying to smother down the whimpers that claw for escape.
The weight of his cock slides along your tongue, and you hum at the feeling. At the heated skin seering your soft mouth.
Hollowing your cheeks and curving his cock down your throat, you take earnest delight in how Takuma shudders seeing your nose pressed against his dark pubes. Pulling back, you press your tongue into the underside of your boyfriend, and let the saliva gurgling past your lips pool into the palm of your hand. Once wet, your hand comes up to Takuma’s balls and bathes them with attention.
He moans this time, cheeks reddening at the sound as he glances towards the camera shyly. Aiming to take his mind off the embarrassment, you slip yourself back down to the base of his dick. Thighs squishing together at the burgeoning heat from his lewd mewls.
Saliva oozes past your plumped, raw lips and drips down your chin. Takuma wants to politely wipe it away, but he’s too preoccupied trying not to humiliate himself by cumming already. You unsheath his cock from your throat again, and he’s ready to bitch out between his moans when you swap your hand and mouth.
Your warm tongue envelopes his balls while your hand fucks his cock. You let the wet, hot, smooth skin brush over your cheek and temple and the messiness of it sends tingles over your boyfriend’s spine. One of his hands darts over yours, squeezing tightly around his dick, while the other finds the back of your head. He whimpers and bucks and you’re not acting when you perk up in excitement.
Licking back up to the head of his cock, you let Takuma take over jerking himself off, and decide to give him more eye candy to finish off the video.
“Cum for me, honey,” you coo, hands squeezing and pulling at Takuma’s thick thighs like putty, “Want it, want ya to cum for me.”
Takuma’s chest is beet red in constant flux as he heaves and whimpers, tugging his cock over your face. His eyes are low and fluttering with lips pink and wet, rounding and stretching into the prettiest little ‘O’ for you. His eyes crinkle shut and his head is thrown back with a final moan when the first spurt of cum hits your cheek.
You moan, mostly for added effect rather than pure enjoyment, as Takuma milks the last of his orgasm onto your lolled tongue and hot cheeks. When no more splatters out onto your face and the overstimulation starts to burn at him, Takuma takes his hand away. You turn to the camera, swallowing the cum on your tongue.
When you feel stray flecks of cum beginning to run down your brow, you close your eyes and try to wipe where you feel the mess.
Takuma gasps - air washing consciousness back into his jittering body - eyes falling down onto your face. Both eyes scrunched and skin painted in sticky streaks.
“Ah, shit,” Takuma yanks his pants up, ignoring the unpleasant sensation in favor of dashing through your apartment for one of your older towels. The ones you keep specifically to clean up nasty messes. He wipes away the cum with a damp towelette, then dries you off with a separate one, “Sorry, sorry. I know it’s kinda gross…”
“Babe,” you snicker, “I literally told you to do it.”
He scoffs, continuing to dab at water trickling down your face, “Yeah, but the clarity I just got - like if a guy did that to me? Holy shit.”
You laugh again and he feels the hot fire of pride ignite in his chest, “Be fair, you’re not into men.”
“Okay, but if I was,” he pecks your lips when he’s sure none of his cum clings along your skin, “I still can’t be disrespecting my hot breadwinner girlfriend, you know?”
~~
i <3 takuma. begging gege to spare him
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yandere-daydreams · 11 months
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Just went through all your genshin android doll au and now I'm. Thinking.
A reader who works with young kids in some capacity, maybe a teacher. Buys a second hand Albedo bot (because lord knows they dont make enough for a brand new one) with some bugs. It's not quite "isolate you from friends and family" levels and more... Clinginess. Anxiety when you need to leave for an errand. But he needs to stay home while you're still fixing him up with YouTube how to videos, just in case.
He has many quirks still remaining by the time hes able to join the classroom, but they're completely harmless. His tendency to make too much or too little eye contact, trailing after you like a duckling for the first few weeks, rocking and clicking his tounge(? Voice box?). But these are all traits you've seen before in your own kids, and his body language isn't something that needs to be fixed. It's helpful for some of your students to open up and express themselves, when they see an adult figure like them.
But of course, he still gets rather lonely. He wants to take care of you when your home, it's how he keeps your attention. He gets irritable if he's idle for too long. So you pick up a Klee model since he gets along so well with kids, and they're both models approved to used in classrooms. She's more then energetic enough to keep him busy, and they get along like bread and butter. Or a house on fire. You still have to buy second hand after all, and Klee came with some fixations. But thats nothing an equipped science bot can't handle, Albedo keeps her satisfied with science experiments. You buy another fire extinguisher just to be safe.
It isn't until you're fixing up a Albedo you got at a steal (free99) from the seller who gave you Albedo and Klee that you realize you've become somewhat of a hobbyist. This one will probably be your last permenant bot, considering his higher needs, but you've gotten quite good at fixing up quirky models. This Albedo reverted to his beta personality that had been left in some forgotten folder, and no one could quite get him to go back. But thats not your goal.
You patch some of the more... Aggressive tendancies and bugs, and leave the personality itself in tact. This gains you quite a bit of favour with your new companion, and he's quick to fall into your daily life. He exhibits some... Jealous habits with your original Albedo, picking on him and trying to one up him any chance he has. But thankfully Klee and the classroom is something they can both agree on, so it rarely extends past an (usually) innocent rivalry.
Sorry for the surprisingly long ask, but androids are one of my favorite tropes!! And Albedo (and his double) are one of my favorite characters... Please enjoy my ramblings
tw - unhealthy relationships, obsessive behavior, all albedos ini this scenario are extremely questionable.
dkljfdkdjksdjfksfsdjfsj i have not touched the sex doll au in a hot minute but i think albedo's 'beta' personality would probably have been developed and refined as an attempt to give one of the child-friend robots a bit of an edgier personality before immediately realizing that that's,,, just not a great idea and mellowing him down into our current and well-loved albedo. needless to say, when you get him in the same room as his replacement, he's less than pleased - as is your first albedo, your original companion, as he's intent on reminding you as often as he can. still, you're his precious master, and he's fond enough of klee, so he bares with the unwanted company, makes-nice with your first albedo droid, helps around your classroom, tries to prove that he can help you the way he's supposed to, too, even after the dozenth time you turn him down. you say you just doesn't feel right to sleep with the same android you bring to work everyday, but he has a feeling it might have something to do with the rip-off you keep so close to your side, the flawed copy who can't seem to go a minute without your attention. you refuse to believe him, but he swears that he's seen his copy drop that innocent mask, spare a smirk over your shoulder as you compliment him on another day of keeping your classroom relatively un-wrecked by grade-schoolers, slip into your room tonight after klee's powered down for the night. clearly, he's not the companion you deserve. clearly, teyvat made a few mistakes when they took his programming and butchered it.
and, while you might be too oblivious to see it, it's clear to him that your little family could do without a duplicate.
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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year
Text
Read Supportive Uncle Wayne Series Part 1 first :)
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Eddie and Steve slept for hours, while Wayne sat waiting. He kept a few crossword puzzles by his designated chair for the times he sat with Eddie, but this time, he couldn’t focus on anything but the way Steve and Eddie kept moving closer to each other in small ways in their sleep.
He’d considered waking Steve up a few times just so he didn’t have to watch his back and neck bend at such an impossible angle.
But god, he was resting.
Wayne wasn’t interrupting any sleep that boy got.
But he watched them both curl into each other incrementally, barely moving, yet always closer together every time Wayne looked at them.
Steve’s face was almost completely buried against Eddie’s “good” hip. If you asked Wayne, he didn’t have a good hip, he just had less stitches on one side.
Eddie’s right hand was placed in Steve’s on the bed, and his left hand was holding onto Steve’s hair for dear life. Like if he let go, Steve would disappear entirely.
From what Wayne knew of Steve so far, he wouldn’t be going anywhere unless he was physically forced.
Eddie’s body was relaxed, the drugs constantly flowing through the IV probably keeping him from experiencing any major pain. He had more stitches in his body than a sweater, and Wayne had no idea how he would heal physically or mentally from any of what happened.
But Wayne was honestly more worried for Steve.
Steve, the boy who had been exhausted since he was a small child, the boy who had refused medical care to make sure Eddie wasn’t alone or scared, the boy always secretly ready to let someone down.
He knew Richard Harrington. He knew how much of a showboat he was, how he never did anything unless it benefitted him personally or led to financial gain. Wayne even remembered shortly after Steve was born, he took an ad in the newspaper for a nanny who was willing to work ‘most days of the week and some nights, minimum wage, cooking and cleaning expected.’ Within a week, Richard and his wife Anne, were gone more than they were home.
Wayne wasn’t much for socializing or he probably would have caught Steve out and about with the nanny often. God knows Richard and Anne weren’t going to run errands.
But looking at the young adult in front of him, he had to think maybe it was a good thing Richard didn’t dig his claws in too deep. He knew if he had, Eddie would have been sitting alone right now, and Steve would be at some Ivy League college becoming something he didn’t even realize he didn’t want until it was too late.
Eddie visibly tensed, his body suddenly going rigid.
Steve was awake and fretting over Eddie before Wayne could even stand up from his chair.
“What hurts? Is it your side? I was hurting you wasn’t I? I’m sorry, Eds, really. I didn’t…”
“Steve. Please shut up. I wanted you there.”
Wayne noticed when Eddie spoke, his voice was raspy from disuse. He was still tense, but he was forcing a smile for Steve’s sake.
Wayne wasn’t having that. No matter how much Steve cared about Eddie, and Eddie cared about Steve, he wasn’t about to let either of them lie about their health.
“I’ll go get the nurse.”
Steve and Eddie both turned to look at Wayne when he spoke, cheeks red with embarrassment.
“Oh, didn’t know you were here.”
Eddie was still forcing a smile, but now it was pointed at Wayne like he wouldn’t see how fake it was.
Like he didn’t know all of Eddie’s tells since he was 13 and trying to hide how scared he was about living with him.
Wayne didn’t respond, just left the room to grab Janet, who sat alone at the nurse’s station during calmer periods in the chaos.
He hurried back in while she got the doctor on staff to see that Steve was helping Eddie adjust himself a bit in bed.
“Damn bats, Jesus Christ!”
Eddie let out a loud yelp and Steve froze.
“What was that?”
“What wasn’t it at this point?”
Eddie was breathing heavily, and his heart monitor started beeping more frantically.
“Son, you need to sit still until the doctor gets in here.”
Wayne wasn’t about to watch him hurt himself more and it didn’t seem like Steve knew how to make it better or stop him on his own.
“My side hurts like this.”
“I think your side will hurt any which way you try to be.”
Steve placed a hand on Eddie’s cheek, gently turning his face so he was looking at only Steve.
“You can be still for a minute, right? For me?”
Wayne’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline.
“Yeah.”
Wayne’s jaw was practically on the floor.
He’d been in charge of Eddie for 7 years and had never once been able to get him to listen the first time. Not a single time.
Before he could say anything, the doctor came in, followed by a handful of nurses, including Janet.
Janet sent him a smile, but hurried over to stand next to the doctor at Eddie’s bed.
“Well, Mr. Munson. You sure are lucky.”
“I’ll feel a lot luckier when I’m not in pain.”
“Where does it hurt?”
Eddie glared at the doctor. Steve glared at Eddie.
“Mostly my side. My chest hurts a little and my left hip and leg are sore.”
“Your left side is in pretty rough shape. You’ve got about 298 stitches holding you together.” The doctor checked his pupils and his heart rate before continuing. “Go ahead and start another morphine drip, same dose as before.”
The doctor turned to Wayne.
“He’s probably going to sleep the next dose off over the next 24 hours, so you can head home. We’ll call if he wakes up earlier.”
The doctor turned to Steve, deep frown on his face.
“You, too. He needs rest.”
Steve was refusing to make eye contact with anyone at this point and Wayne was almost certain he knew why.
Steve’s father wasn’t known for being a particularly kind or loving man. One wouldn’t have to think too hard to come to the conclusion that he was harder on his son than anyone else. The doctor was speaking to him in a way that would have made Wayne’s hackles rise for Eddie, and they did for Steve too.
“I think Steve should stay.”
Wayne wasn’t going to let either of his boys go without each other if it meant they’d get some sleep.
“We do recommend that Eddie have very limited visitors.”
“If I may,” Janet spoke up. “Steve’s been here the entire time and it hasn’t affected Eddie’s sleeping. We can’t be everywhere all the time so it would be nice for someone to stay with him and come get us if he wakes up again.”
The doctor gritted his teeth together but gave a single nod before exiting the room. Most of the nurses followed behind while Janet made herself busy playing with the buttons on Eddie’s IV pole.
“Thanks Janet. What’s that doctor’s problem?” Wayne asked as he made his way to the bed.
“He came in while you were downstairs and saw the um, sleeping arrangement. He wasn’t too fond of you seeming so close.”
“We can be more careful,” Eddie mumbled, body slowly relaxing into the bed.
“Or he can just deal with it,” Janet shrugged.
She sent a wink to Steve, then turned to Wayne.
“He should be feeling a lot better now. Right Eddie?”
“This is way better than the stuff I have.”
Wayne shook his head, but couldn’t help but smile at his nephew’s antics.
“I won’t ask questions I don’t want the answer to,” Janet said as she walked out of the room. She turned to wave and then closed the door to give them all some privacy.
Wayne looked down at Eddie.
He was so pale. He’d lost so much weight in the last week, and he barely had any to give to begin with. His hair was dirty and greasy, and despite Steve and Janet giving his face and arms a wipe down, he still had dirt under his nails.
Wayne didn’t know the details of what happened. They said it was earthquake related, but he knew better. He knew if this was just an earthquake, Steve wouldn’t have stood guard by his bed for days on end.
He was just glad Eddie was alive and awake.
He placed a hand on his right shoulder.
“I’m glad to hear your voice, kiddo.”
Eddie’s eyes were glassy and his smile was much brighter than before when he responded.
“Glad you hear my voice, too. Have you met Steve? He’s my boyfriend. Or maybe not? I want him to be though. Do you think he likes me?”
Wayne looked over at a bright red Steve, then smiled down at Eddie.
“I think he likes you a lot, kid. You get some rest. Steve will still be here when you wake up, alright?”
“You too?”
“Sure.”
So Wayne stayed, and Steve stayed. Wayne watched them both as Eddie slept.
Steve didn’t fall back asleep. He looked like he needed to, but any time his eyes started to slip shut, he shook his head and widened his eyes trying to fight it.
“Steve?”
“Yes, sir?”
Wayne watched as Steve’s body curled in on itself defensively.
“None of that. You can call me Wayne.” When Steve nodded, Wayne continued. “Whoever you are to Eddie, I hope you know you’ve got me, okay? I know Eddie must like ya a whole lot for him to say any of what he did regardless of the drugs in his system. And you must like him a whole lot to not leave his side this long. But you gotta get some rest, son.”
“I take naps in the chair sometimes.”
“A nap ain’t rest. Especially not if you’ve been through war.”
“I…”
“You don’t have to tell me. I’m sure I shouldn’t know. But I been there. And I’m not lettin’ ya suffer the way I did when I came home.”
Steve’s eyes were watering and Wayne knew if he watched this boy cry, he’d be done for.
So when Steve’s first tear fell, Wayne got up and joined Steve on the other side of the bed, pulling him out of the chair and into his arms.
Steve was injured, and hadn’t had proper medical attention or pain medication, but he ignored it to fall apart in Wayne’s arms.
“That’s alright now. Let it out, son. Let it out.”
Wayne felt a tear fall down his own cheek. He couldn’t have possibly predicted this moment, but he knew he was meant to be in it.
He was meant to be here with Steve, providing something the boy needed for a long, long time.
He was meant to be someone for Steve the same way he was meant to be someone for Eddie.
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toastandjamie · 6 days
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I like thinking about how the trauma of the series effects the Ta’veren boys and the Wondergirls- but like- have we considered how absolutely messed up, feral and dangerous Olver will be as an adult?
This kid spent his formative years participating in an active war zone. He rarely spent time with his peers instead spending time among a bunch of soldiers- not even just soldiers, mercenaries- many of which were barely adults themselves and had zero experience with raising children. His main caretaker is a dude who up until this point has not matured a day past sixteen and liked it that way. Despite Mat’s best efforts, none of them had a clue what they were doing. Now if Olver was just a little socially stunted from trauma and lack of friendships with peers that would be one thing- but this kid has also been taught an eclectic number of skills most of which are related to violence.
We are told directly that Mat and the other men in the band have taught Olver how to use: crossbows, longbows, swords, spears, and throwing knives. Kid has a whole ass arsenal he can use. He was given ample practice with both horse riding and care. Thom was teaching him to play the flute and juggle. Cards, dice, flirting with women, dancing, stones, the basics of daes de mar- stealing horses. This kid was raised as a soldier, a thief and a noble.
That’s just what we get in the books- let’s say Olver stays with Mat post-canon and is raised in Seanchen occupied Ebou Dar alongside Mat and Tuon’s child. Any skills Olver learned among the band would only perfected among the Seanchen blood.
Olver states multiple times his intention to go to the tower of ghenji and seek the Finn’s answers and gifts- now let’s say Olver manages this without Mat catching him and keeping him from doing this- the amount of possibilities for what Olver could attain from the Finn of he survived the trip is astounding. He is also fueled by a desire for revenge against the Shaido for killing his father and driving him and his mom from Cairihan resulting in her death. And famously having a revenge motive in fiction is a flashing Danger sign.
Olver and Tuon have a lot in common, small and unassuming on the surface but we’re raised to be dangerous. Raised to always be alert and ready for anything. They are both trained killers from the time they were young. Their formative years spent learning that the world is cruel and the only way to survive is by being smarter, faster, and stronger than your opponents.
This isn’t even considering any specialized training he may receive, from groups like the deathwatch guard or even warders depending on the circumstances. Or the possibility of Olver being a channeler which is always a possibility. Olver would be exceptionally dangerous as an adult- and depending on how the others in his life care for him post tarmengedon he could be a genuine threat to the dragons peace of he decides that All Aiel are guilty for the actions of the Shaido. He could also follow in Mat’s footsteps however and dedicate himself to protecting those in his life currently. The possibilities- my brain is whirring
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cowgirlcherrie · 10 months
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Novocaine pt. 1 ━━ ゜゜・.
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pairing: College! Abby x friend!crush!fem! reader
prompt: F is for friday’s, but its also for Frats and Fucked up parties, its even worse when the night out doesn’t go as planned choosing to numb emotions with alcohol and weed
warnings: 18+, MDNI, intoxication, partying, alcohol, drunk reader, mean-ish! comedic relief! Ellie, cheating, smoking, weed. almost kissing, heavy cursing, touching, Abby has a toxic girlfriend, substance abuse-ishhh (its only Abby smoking to forget, Reader drinking to also forget), jealousy, angsty
song: novacane by frank ocean
any words highlighted blue in the fic are the lyrics to the song, this fic is based off of the song roughlyy,
a/n: This…. honestly biting my fist at the tension between Abby and the reader, but this is my favorite thing i’ve ever written, I love the dynamic between the reader n Abby where you can feel they are playing it safe even though they want to, based off of novacane by frank ocean which helped me to write this (do listen), but I hope you all enjoy this, thank you for the support on my work so far I appreciate it so so much, sit back n enjoy ♡
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I blame it on the model broad with the Hollywood smile...
It was Friday, and as always Fridays were for the frat opens and free alcohol. Now at first, you weren’t considering going, opting to instead stay at your dorm instead and watch movies until your eyes hung low and couldn’t bare to stay open anymore. But of course, Abby dragged you out to join her and her girlfriend at the party. You were rather frustrated, but Abby was just one person you couldn’t say no to. Yet the fired heart of yours was destroyed at the sight of seeing Abby with a girlfriend. Maybe it was the fact that it wasn’t you to be able to see the raw and authentic parts of her, but rather the campus wanna-bee model broad who dipped her energy into too many people. Abby played it off that she was just friendly, but all you could see was CHEATER above her head in bold red letters. Her smile wasn’t sweet but rather devious and manipulative. According to Ellie, the girl was going to school for dentistry, but adapted to a side hustle of sugar daddies to pay off her tuition. You couldn’t blame the girl, but it seemed like Abby didn’t know what the girl did when the lights were off.
She said she wanna be a dentist really badly
She's in school paying for tuition doing porn in the Valley
At least you working…
So here you were, pushing through the busy crowd of drunk young adults, grinding against each other under the changing LEDS to the beat of the music and a cup filled with awful jungle juice from the keg. Pulling the cup up to your lips to take a sip of the alcohol mix, wincing at the cold beverage going down your throat leaving a burning sensation in your chest. It wasn’t good but it helped you get drunk to survive the next 4 hours at the party. One cup became two...which became 3 and eventually 4. Somewhere into the night, you lost Abby, who somehow knew everyone there, who somehow lost her girlfriend in the fit of people. Last time you saw the couple they were arguing in a corner, Abby’s face scrunching in irritation as her arms crossed her chest, rolling her eyes at her girlfriend. Her partner touched up and down Abby’s arm, pleading with the girl about something. But from the look of It, Abby was denying it, shaking her head at the girl. The couple had been always arguing, it seemed their honeymoon stage was short-lived as their rocky foundation came cracking down and now their arguments and make-up sex ruled the relationship. 
Now you were lost, not even sure if Abby was still here or if she decided to call Ellie to come pick her up and take her home. Suddenly you needed air, the sweaty bodies making your clothes feel a lot damp in comparison to how they felt when you first went in. You were going up the stairs from the basement holding tightly to your cup as you passed people who were headed towards your direction, at the stairs, were pushing and shoving. Entering the kitchen area which was, of course, filled with more bodies and a specific face catching your eye.
Abby’s girlfriend, stood there in all her glory, flashing her friends a billion dollar smile while hanging off of the arm of some frat member, kissing the guy as his arms were all over her. The crowd around them cheering in surprise. Your heart sank, where was Abby? This was not good, making your heart beat fast, watching as the two leaned in to kiss each other…again, now in a full make-out next to the alcohol table. Your eyes went wide, causing you to turn tightly on your heals bolting for the door. Making your way out of the house in a hurry, it didn’t help that you were drunk and your heart was now beating in your ears replacing the deep bass of the music. Converse at one with the black-top pavement, your right hand resting against the side of the house as you stumbled to the front lawn, between the gate and driveway. You were almost there when swiftly your body collided with a hard chest letting out a grunt as their hands wrapped around your waist, to shield you from falling.
“Y/n?” You knew that voice, it was Abby’s, you finally found the girl after looking for her for half of your night. Her hands were still at your waist, slightly squeezing it, with her nails digging into the side of your smooth skin to get you out of the trance you were in. Abby was really touchy, especially when it came to you, you don’t know why she did it but you tried not to take it too literally. Get your head out of the gutter, you would think. You panicked gripping her arms when she finally pulled you away from her chest to get a good look at you, scanning your body to see if something happened by how hard you were breathing and how fast you were moving.
You put me on a feeling I never had, never had, never had (never)…
“You look like you seen a ghost…shit, what’s wrong” Abby questioned. You parted your lips to say something making eye contact with Abby, but you quickly looked away, dropping your head as your lips closed again and nothing came out.
“Have you seen my girlfriend?” Abby questioned, your heart aching at the question. Abby mind-as-well take a knife to your heart and stabbed you with it. You weren’t gonna lie to her, you couldn’t but you knew the reaction Abby would have as soon as the words left your mouth. Abby didn’t like the look you were giving her, you look guilty, almost regretful, the same look you give when you answer something wrong or did something you definitely shouldn’t have.
I think I started somethin' , I got what I wanted, Did-didn't, I
“…Abby,” you dragged, your voice at the same tone as doctors when they prepare to give you the worst possible news of your life, and with that you started shaking your head. All you could do is lowly point to the kitchen as Abby’s eyes followed the direction you were pointing to,  the soft gaze she usually gives you instantly developed to one that was cold and avoidant. Abby didn’t speak further, rubbing her fingers at the side of your waist for a second, as if she had been thinking about what to say or what to do, her hands were delicate with you and almost soothing, but your body felt cold as she let go and walked right past you and into the house.
You let out a breathe you didn’t know you had been holding, cursing to your self as you pushed yourself into the wall with your hands on your knees. The bile forming at the back of your throat making you drop the red solo cup. Luckily for you, throwing up was not an option in that moment and you gave your self a minute to go walk to the road. As you make your way to the curb, sitting yourself on the gravel as you tucked your head down on your arms that were resting on your knees, rocking swiftly to ease you from chucking out everything you had drunk in the last hour.
You were in a daze failing to notice the jingling keys coming from behind you as an arm came down to touch your back making you jump. Head up and looking around in bewilderment. 
“Hey, it’s just me..” Abby whispered, her soft voice contrasting with the loudness of the house behind the two of you. It’s not that you felt bad for Abby, well you did, but instead it was the jungle juice you had not mixing well with your empty stomach. You tucked your head back into your arms. Abby knew you were drunk out of your mind, the way your words slurred or the rambles coming from your mouth before finding that her girlfriend was truly up to know good like everyone said she was. 
“Um thank—“ Abby cut herself off kneeling to sit next to you on the curb, before trying to make her statement again.
“I’m not the type to say it, and you know that but..um, thank you,” Abby muttered, looking at you fully this time as she closed the distance between the two of you on the curb, her hip touching yours as her hand continued to rub circles in your back. This time you could smell the pine cologne radiating off of her and her body heat keeping you warm in the night chill. 
“What..hmph, what are you thanking me for Abby?” You groaned, your voice soft, feeling a bit of nervousness start to take over your form, you refused to look at Abby from your current position, rather finding your arms way more interesting in the current moment.
“Thanks for not lying to me..I guess, I don’t know” Abby let out a swift nervous laugh. You felt her body vibrate as she laughed before she cleared her throat again.
“No, I'm serious this time——“ 
“Thank me one more time and I’m gonna kill you,” You mumbled, voice monotone, causing Abby to laugh again. This time her hand snaked up your back, sending a shiver down your spine, causing your body to jolt making Abby smirk from her position. Her gentle yet roughened hands moved to your cheek to move hair out of your face and behind your ear. 
“Mm..you know what, she didn’t deserve you” you confessed, making Abby freeze. You weren’t sure where this sudden liquid courage came from, hell you couldn’t think straight. Now you were just saying things, but you always thought it, and it was true. She didn’t deserve Abby, or how much Abby sacrificed to be with her, almost damaging her reputation. 
“I know,” Abby put in, shutting her lips tightly, her face shifting to more stoic as her she put her tongue to her cheek before smacking her lips. 
“Do you..?” You slurred, hiccuping as you spoke now looking up to finally look at Abby. She looked so pretty under the moonlight, her hair in its usual braid as she wore a simple black tee with her pretty chain sitting across her neck. Untouched. Your eyes met hers, low yet full of adoration and admiration, and your eyes flickered to her lips. You didn’t know what you were doing, it was as if someone had been taking control over your body. 
novocaine, baby I want you...
“I don’think you do” your voice came out below a whisper, taking your hand up to play with the chain around her neck as she leaned in closer to you, she could smell the alcohol on your breath and you could smell the cologne that didn’t seem to go away. It was almost as if you had put a spell on her, your presence numbing the heartbreak she experienced just a few minutes ago. You were numbing the pain for her.
just one taste, a little taste, she wanted you to love her numb
love me now, when I'm gone love me numb...
“n'you do?” Abby questioned, bringing her hand up to grip your face, as the two of you were practically on top of each other, her lips hovering over yours but before she could lay a gentle kiss, the two of you were interrupted by loud music coming from down the street. Making the two of you jump apart, opening the gap between the two of you on the curb. The car’s brakes screeched stopping in front of the two of you at the curb, it was Ellie. Of course. You gave Abby one last final look, but she had been too distracted by Ellie’s sudden appearance to give one back.
“I’m seriously gonna start fucking charging y’all, I’m not a damn uber” Ellie groaned, turning down the music so that the two of you could hear her. 
“Hurry the fuck up! Let’s go!” Ellie sassed, hitting the side of her door, as her arm hanged out the window. Abby only shook her head at her best friend, standing up then looking back in your direction and grabbing your arm to pull you up. 
“I owe you!” Abby shouted at Ellie who only mocked the girl as a response, Abby dragged you by your arm to the backseat of the car, almost like you were a rag doll. Opening the door swiftly with her freehand before giving you one last look.
“Get in baby,” Abby lectured, guiding you in with her hand on your back. You complied, climbing into Ellie’s back seat sitting up firmly as Abby closed the door behind you after making sure your feet were tucked in. As soon as the door shut you fell over in Ellie’s backseat with a groan. The loud smell of weed, and the rap music coming through the speakers made you feel like you were back at the basement of the party.
“Throw up in my backseat and your washing my whole car, oh!— and with your bare hands y/n I’m not playing with you” Ellie shouted which only earned a groan from you in response,
“Whyyy are you yelling,” you whined as your hands went up to cover your face.
“The fuck did you drink?” Ellie drew her face back in confusion at your attitude before turning the music up a little bit louder. Abby was now in the passenger seat fiddling with her phone, occasionally checking on you in the back, which you had now passed out. The windows cracked just enough for fresh air as Ellie drove back to your dorm complex. The car was completely silent as Ellie handed Abby a pre-rolled blunt and her lighter from the glove compartment. Abby silently thanked, feeding into the temptation and putting the blunt to her lips. releasing the smoke as she tilted her head back into the headrest. If she was gonna be fucked up, she might as well have been high. Sending a: “we’re over, for good. Get your shit and go bitch” text to her girlfriend— well ex-girlfriend with ease. Abby turned her head to look at you who was still sleeping in the back, letting out soft snores that could be heard through the music as your hair blocked your face.  
but, girl, I can't feel my face, what are we smokin' anyway...
“Fuck…” Abby cried out 
“Dude, turn that down she’s sleeping” Abby snapped reaching her hand for the volume button making the music at a moderately low volume, it didn’t help that Ellie was playing Marvin’s Room by Drake that made her want to bash her head into the window. Ellie was preparing to argue, but chose not to realizing the shitty night the two of you were having. 
“You know I’ve never seen her drink this much” Ellie sighed. You were like a little sister to her and she wondered what it was that drove you to keep drowning yourself in cups. Abby hummed bringing the blunt up to her lips realizing she hasn’t either 
“Same,” Abby blurted out as she detached the blunt from her lips really thinking about the situation as a whole. Abby felt paralyzed almost numb in the seat, especially when her ex-girlfriend now crossed her mind, her heart went cold, and she couldn't feel a thing. “—well I lost her, halfway through the night, she probably started drinking because she was alone” Abby confessed feeling guilty that she didn’t stick up under you all night which probably would have resulted in the both of you having a better night. 
“You mean to tell me…you were so pussy whipped you failed to see that, that girl” Ellie pointed at you, “Was missing from behind you” Ellie finished throwing her hands in the air for a quick second before reattaching them to the wheel. Abby sighed in response realizing how shitty she looked in this situation, and you already didn’t want to come which made her feel bad in the first place. 
“When are you gonna start being honest with yourself Abby?” Ellie sneered as her eyes were focused on the road.
“About what?”
“About what?” 
“The truth is you like y/n” Ellie revealed turning her head slightly to see Abby’s reaction. Abby paused at Ellie’s words. Well yes, she liked you, anyone would like you! The way your hair flowed as you walked, the way you laughed, or the way your nose scru— fuck. She really did like you. Abby gave Ellie a look putting out the empty blunt in her hand, and stuffing the lighter back in the glove compartment. Abby was now burning holes in the side of Ellie’s head. 
now I'm something like the chemist on campus, but there's no drug's around, quite like what I found in you
“Pft..no” Abby hesitated to answer, rubbing off what she said. While you were her friend, she was always going to look out for you because no one could do an efficient job of doing so. Yet she felt that she could. Abby scratched her neck, muting her phone that had been blowing up with a text from her ex-girlfriend cursing her out. 
“I’m calling you bluff” Ellie speculated, shaking her head as her hands gripped the wheel even more. Abby parted her lips to rebuttal Ellie’s statement but was cut off when Ellie suddenly began to lecture her. 
“For one second I’m telling you to think that just maybe what you thought you wanted with— whatever the fuck her name is, wasn’t genuine, but you felt as though you wanted y/n the whole time yet you thought you couldn’t have her”
Well, shit. Call Ellie a tarot reader for the way she had read Abby for filth as if she had been stalking her every move. If this was a game of chess, Abby would be losing miserably while Ellie was on the road to victory. But Abby didn’t wanna give Ellie the satisfaction of being right. Abby suddenly remembered your sleeping figure in the backseat rubbing her eyes at the current state of the situation. Her throat groggy and itchy from the blunt she smoked wasn’t helping either. 
“Are we seriously having this conversation right now, mind you— with her in the car?” Abby inquired, nodding her head at you in the backseat, her jaw clenching and she smacked her teeth giving Ellie a glare from her position in the car.
“Fuck yeah, we are because the ignorance you fuckin' have of your reality is pissing me off” Ellie spat, narrowing her eyes. She was riling Abby up, good. Ellie wanted Abby to see the mistake she made by not being upfront with her feelings like Ellie had been encouraging her to do before she even got with her girlfriend. Abby’s nostrils flared as she continued to listen to Ellie’s words. 
“All I’m saying is, look at what you wanted and always wanted, and then look at what you settled for” Ellie cleared her throat focusing back on the road ignoring the intensive, disbelief look Abby had been giving her. Abby bought one hand up to her lips, deciding not to fight Ellie’s words. Abby did like you more than a friend, but it scared her. The possibility of you saying “no” and rejecting her, haunts her more than she realized. Maybe she did try to replace you with someone who couldn’t even compete with you, lowering her own standards to a false sense of home and security. Her ex-girlfriend could never give her the same feelings that you had given her without a single touch, and Abby knew that.
“What felt real to you, Abby?”
I can't feel, feel her, novocaine for the pain, for the pain...
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