#and like he brought it up to me before but i think it's festering for him still idk

[tootickie]

ladies what would you do if you found a reddit relationship advice post that was posted by your boyfriend about an issue you had in your relationship. bc i just did lol. like i shouldn’t have snooped on his page i guess? but it’s public technically so i feel like it’s fair game for me to bring up. 

[gojoest]

BURDEN and REVERENCE — gojo satoru

MDNI, pregnancy freak!satoru, f!reader, established relationship (married + reader is expecting), pregnancy, lots of pet names (love, pretty one, baby, sweetness, my beautiful wife), fingering, humping, cumming in pants (<- hinted), wc: 1.5k, not proofread, dividers by @/cafekitsune

what your fingers can’t, your husband’s will ;)

“Stupid Satoru”, with a shaky breath you mumble under your nose. “It’s all because of you—", you whine to yourself.

Grabbing onto the sink in the bathroom with one hand to support yourself, you desperately try to make the other one work its way (and magic) between your legs, albeit ineffectively.

You can’t properly reach down and take care of yourself now — courtesy of the swollen belly that your very husband brought upon you. No matter how much you bend and shift, your baby bump is still in the way. Your fingers alone prove unable to make it to the spots in you that are itching to be touched right now.

“Stupid, idiot, bastard— “

“I love you too”, a familiar voice reaches your ears — the words are spoken with a smile that’s imbued itself in the timbre of it. “You look beautiful”

A sigh breaks past your lips. “In distress? — Sure”

Your husband — and the father of your unborn child, Gojo Satoru — stands tall at the bathroom entrance, looking at you with lovesick eyes, admiring your naked body with reverence. “I’m sorry”, he breathes.

It is not an apology for being late though.

Times like this one are the raw example of the changes he had forced on your body.

There are certain things you can no longer do by yourself now that your belly’s grown quite a bit, or you can — but at the cost of great discomfort, you must admit. Tying your shoelaces, reaching certain parts of your body when you shower that require you to bend down, or when you try to get off on your own — all those innocuous activities have suddenly become quite the challenge now with his baby growing inside you.

At times like this, you need him — and he is more than happy to help and serve you.

Truth be told, he bears a little bit of guilt for burdening you like this, but it is a guilt that he likes to let plague his conscience…

…because he’s completely enamored with this state of you — pregnant, swollen with his seed that is blooming in your womb like a flower, the you that is reliant on him to wash your feet, to rub your ankles, to paint your toenails, to fuck your depths your fingers can’t reach — now those are the parts of your body only he has access to; not even you.

You need him, and he loves that.

Slowly rolling his sleeves up, he inches closer to you. “Let me take care of you, my love”

To him, you look so beautiful in your naked glory on display. Leaned against the sink with a hand between your thighs, your swollen breasts like two open hands awaiting to be grasped by him, your round belly sticking out towards him — the view alone makes his cock stiffen in a heartbeat. Fuck, he mouths the word. The pressure in his groin is festering, really fast.

You free your hand now, knowing that he’s here to take charge of things, and once before you he takes a hold of it and brings it to his lips. Starting from the knuckles he paints your fingers with tender kisses, licking the remnants of your slick on them. “You should’ve waited for me”, he hums into your hand. “You know I love joining you — don’t keep this from me”, he pouts a little.

“I know, but…”, you knit your brows. “I don’t want to be a burden to you like this, all the time”

Maybe, you’re just having another hormonal episode. Maybe it’s just that, you think, because Satoru’s never given you a reason to feel like you are weighing on him.

Eyes squinting, Satoru tilts his head in confusion. His hips push forward, causing the erection under his slacks to rub against your belly — on purpose, to prove a point. “Do I look burdened to you, pretty one?”

You chuckle. A-ha— point proven, you see. “That looks like a huge burden if you ask me” — your remark drags a short laugh out of him.

“Mind if I share some of it with you then?”, he grins smugly.

“You say some of it, but you really give all of it to me”

“It’s ‘cause you take it so well, baby”

You slap his chest — Ah, what a dickhead — and smile at him.

His lips charge towards you and peck you softly on the forehead. “You are never a burden to me”, he whispers against you before he slowly starts to drag his body down — on his knees, in front of you. Kissing every inch of you along the way — the tip of your nose, your lips, your chin, the length of your neck, your breasts, your beautiful belly... “Sometimes I fear that I am the one burdening you — with my freakish desire of you, all the time”

“So you admit to being a freak”, you ruffle his hair softly as his cheek remains pressed against your baby bump. “You flatter me too much”

“No — I revere you”, he gazes up at you, his lips longingly kissing the skin on your belly as he takes both of your hands into his and places them on his shoulders. “Here — hold on, and relax your thighs”, his hands travel down between the plush of your legs and slide them open like they’re curtains. Your nails dig into his clothed flesh, earning a low hiss from him.

“Stay like this for me, love — stay open for me to reach you” — soft pecks on the flesh that separates his lips from his unborn follow each word that seeps from his mouth, as if to ease you into his finger prodding at your slit along with his thumb rubbing tender circles on your sensitive clit. His other hand rested against the bottom of your belly.

“Satoru”, you moan softly — but demandingly — at his touch. Clenching your cunt to try and suck him in — and you do, although not entirely. You force just about the tip of his finger into you. “I am ready”

…and you’re impatient, he smiles.

His middle finger tardily inches into you, urging his cock to twitch under his pants at your warmth and at the wetness soaking into his skin. Fuck, he curses quietly under his breath — his hips involuntarily buck forward with need, his clothed bulge pressing itself on the lower of your limb; he is humping your leg like a dog.

Fuck, he must be a sorry sight for you right now — he thinks. And here you are, being groundlessly anxious about burdening him… With what exactly? Have you ever seen a dog burdened by its owner? Isn’t it the other way around? — he ponders, while his finger sinks deeper into you.

“More, ‘Toru…”, you whimper. “Want m-more..”

Grunting at the way your muscles contract around his finger, Satoru slides it in further — repeatedly reaching in as far as possible, curling and drawing back. “More what, baby?”, he coos. “More depth—“, he rams his finger in, causing you to jolt and squeeze your hands harder around his shoulders, mouth hung open, voiceless and unable to even gasp. “Or more fingers?” — he pulls away, only to push back two of them in.

You gasp, barely able to draw in a breath of air, thighs squeezing around his hand. His fingers are thick, and they are long. Two of them almost feel like a cock inside you.

“Tell me, love — which one is it?”, innocently he asks, while his fingers maneuver inside you, not so innocently. A self-satisfied look on his face that you want to wipe off with the back of your hand, but all you can muster is a whimper of pleasure washing over you.

“Oh? Is it both, baby?”, he continues coaxing you smugly. “Is this how you were trying to fuck yourself? Is that it, baby? Am I doing it right for you, sweetness?”

“Fuck, S-satoru—“, you cry. Moving your hips in sync with his fingers, your round belly hits his face with each motion, clawing low grunts from his throat and desperate humps around your leg as he slides his throbbing bulge up and down on it. He was soaking his pants by now, but you were his sole focus. He’d clean his mess later, with you in the shower — but still, by grinding on you like a dog he wanted to let you know the effect you were having on him.

“I am, baby — I am fucking you”, he croons like a sweet addition to the squelching noises of your sopping pussy. “Cum on my fingers, my love. My beautiful wife — cum on your husband’s fingers”, his glazed digits pumping harder, hammering into you fast and filling the bathroom with echoes of labored breathing and loud smacks of his hand against your soaked cunt.

“C-cuming” — you manage to utter through rapid breaths, pussy pulsing and your walls grabbing more at his fingers as the wave of pleasure washes over you.

Your hands relax their grip and hug around his neck as you look at him with weary eyes, lips panting heavily still. “What a good girl”, he speaks to you. “Now come—”, his hand retreats from your folds, causing you to slightly flinch as he pulls away from your sore, sensitive cunt, “Let me clean you up, and maybe — burden you a little”

[ellievickstar]

Bloodied Bonds

A/N: This was...fun. I wanted to fit it all into one part but it was getting too long sooooo yeah.....have fun :)

Summary: When hanahaki disease festers in your lungs, how will your family help you while you hide it from your mate?

Pairing: Azriel x Reader, Rhysand x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Elain slander, dying

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

There they were again.

Azriel smiled at Elain with those eyes…those eyes. And in your soul you felt the bond writhe with pain and clench in your chest. You remained still as you immediately brought your eyes to look at the ground beneath you. This hurt. This really hurt. A part of you wanted to deny it, wanted to believe that Azriel would remain faithful to you always, that he would stay true to the mating bond, something he desperately used to want before we got together.

Now, you were not so sure.

“Sweetheart…,” Cassian said from behind me, startling. He knew what you was seeing, saw it in his own brother’s eyes. Azriel may have always been a mystery to everyone else outside the inner circle, but his eyes — his beautiful hazel eyes — showed you everything you needed to know.

“I’m fine,” You waved Cassian off, bringing down shields on the bond, shutting out his emotions, the pain from it, and shutting yourself in as a stray tear slipped down your face, “I’m really fine,” You repeated.

Truth to be told, Cassian did not know what to say to you. After you had defended Azriel since you were kids, brought him to you and Rhysand’s mother, convinced her to take him in. Cassian did not know what could come over Azriel to internally betray you in this way. However as you began coughing Cassian was alarmed when you raced towards the kitchen sink and coughed out flower petals, one after another.

“What the hell-” He started, moving to pull back your hair as he observed what you had coughed out. Blood and petals coated the sink and as you choked them out one by one, slowly calming down, you waved your hand magicking it away. And it was then it hit him.

You were dying.

“Explain. Now.” He demanded. Looking away you mumbled.

“A few weeks ago after I first realised he loved her, I started coughing up flowers and my tears, my tears turned a gold colour. I asked Madja what was wrong. It’s a soul disease called hanahaki, caused by the betrayal of the heart and unrequited love. The tears were caused by the same thing, a unique symptom that is because of my magic due to being the High Lord’s sister. She said the flowers in my lungs will continue to grow until it suffocates me and I die. The star tears are just a symptom that causes physical pain, she doesn’t know if there will be any repercussions from it,” That’s all you managed to ramble out before you doubled over and heaved again, blood dripping out of your gaping mouth as you choked and coughed on the flower petals making their way up your throat.

Cassian was at a loss of words, on one hand he wanted to be angry, angry at you for keeping this from him, for not telling him sooner so he could beat the crap out of Azriel. On the other hand he was…devastated. You had always been like a sister to him, since he first met you as a kindred and fierce spirit when you were seven years old. The three of them had been twenty and Cassian had fell to his knees before the little girl with such a bright spirit, who dared to scream in Devlon’s face when he said females belonged in the kitchen.

Cassian had sworn to protect you.

And now, against a disease he felt helpless.

“Is there a cure?” He asked.

“Madja said there were two ways, either Azriel proves that he still loves me, which we both know won’t happen when he won’t stay away from Elain for more than a few hours, or I could have the flowers cut from their roots and removed, it’s a risky procedure and even successful all my feelings towards Azriel will be removed entirely, given the mating bond, she thinks it will be stripped from my soul. I….I wanted to wait.”

“So you either have your emotions robbed from you, make Azriel realise he’s an idiot, or die?”

You nod.

“Tell Azriel,” “I can’t!” You hissed, “We both know I can’t. He loves her, Cassian, I can feel it, I can see it, everytime he looks at her it’s like she’s the one who hung the stars and moon while when he looks at me that light dies!” You bang your fist on the table.

You point to where Azriel and Elain was far out in the gardens. His shadows no where to be seen, both blissfully unaware of what was going on inside with you and Cassian.

“He acts like she’s the one who went through countless of interrogation, of torture, when she got captured by enemies. He acts like she was the one who protected Velaris with Rhysand when she went under the mountain to be taken advantage of, when Amarantha held me down and tried to force answers out of me,” You let out another pained cry as you slid to the ground, “I have done everything for him, been through hell and back with him. And even after everything he still wants her, still wants to be with her, still doesn’t want me.”

Cassian brought you closer to him as he sat next to you and let you cry on his shoulder.

You cried and cried, and cried until there was nothing left. Cried until you couldn’t cry.

And when you finally fell asleep from exhaustion, Cassian glanced out the house to the gardens where his brother trailed Elain, and Cassian made a decision.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

“You told my brother!?” You shrieked. Rhysand and Cassian was now sitting around you in Rhys’s study.

“You told Cassian before me?” Rhysand shot back. You rolled your eyes as you scoffed, “Oh please I didn’t tell him anything I was throwing up flowers in front of him, not much I could do except explain.”

Shaking his head, Rhys sighed as he glanced at Cassian and they both shared a look. Narrowing your eyes, the tendrils in your mind crept towards your brother and the general, and surprise coated your face when you realised they had shut you out.

“Let me remind you what I do is my choice.”

“Not when your life is at stake,” Rhysand retorted.

So he had decided something against your will already. Of course, your brother who wanted to help everyone, your brother who thought you were his responsibility, his burden to bear. Your brother who claimed to value your opinion oh so much but then never, not once, ever considered how you feel in anything that had to do with you.

“He doesn’t care. I haven’t even been actively hiding it from him, it’s just that he’s never around to notice,” You said bitterly, “Did you know he missed my birthday? You all did. Because usually he’s the one going around reminding everyone the week before. Did you know our anniversary passed and I had waited for him all day just to realise he was with her?” Stray tears slipped down your cheeks as you tried to hold them back.

Crying meant that you were weak.

And you hated being weak.

That was when Cassian spoke, “Have Madja remove the flowers.”

Rhysand shot a look at him.

“She won’t survive otherwise. Even as we discuss this now she is running out of time, Rhys. Azriel’s infatuation with Elain is unforgivable and at least this way we can save her. Their relationship might never be the same but if Azriel is truly in love with Elain as she feels, then it is possible this way everyone wins.”

“I don’t want the male who almost killed my sister in my court,” Rhys bit out.

“Convincing Azriel that what he is doing is wrong will take too long. Maybe we should have interfered when it first started but now it’s too late. We can still save her, really save her. Not their relationship but at least she’ll live,” “And live with a bond that will eventually diminish into nothing?” “Maybe it’s better that way.”

Glancing between Cassian and your brother, your own inner turmoil seemed to be playing out in front of you as they discussed everything that you had not been able to come to terms with yourself. A part of you could still hardly believe that Azriel would do something like this, hurt you in this way when he himself swore that he would be loyal for eternity.

Mates.

A sacred connection that determined your equal, your partner in everything.

But your parents were mates too…and that did not work out well. So maybe it was time for you to let your mate go.

However, as you opened your mouth to agree with Cassian, to agree that maybe the best option would be to remove the flowers directly, the consequences of your feelings being stolen be damned, a cough climbed up your throat.

And as you coughed out bloody petals onto Rhysand’s office floor….everything went dark.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

It had all happened quickly, too quickly for Rhysand’s liking.

One moment he was debating with Cassian how they would save his sister’s life, the next moment as she was about to say something and he watched in horror as blood came out instead of words. Her eyes drooped and he raced to catch her from hitting her head on the hard wooden floors, and as his ears started ringing, holding his sister’s lifeless body in his arms, as he watched golden tears stream out of her eyes, he noticed there was someone screaming.

And it was not until his throat hurt, until his own throat burned, that he realised he was the one screaming, crying out loud for his sister who’s body seemed as lifeless as the one he had lost all those years ago.

“Get Madja!” He roared at Cassian, “Get her NOW!”

Less that a minute went by when Morrigan and Feyre came into the room, Feyre let out a horrified gasp as Mor took in the scene, freezing as she realised her cousin, her best friend, her only companion during the times after Eris and Keir, was in Rhysand’s arms, still and lifeless even as blood trickled out of her mouth and gold spilled form her closed eyelids.

Madja came shortly after, and Y/N’s body was moved to a different room for Madja to work, Cassian explaining what happened and the illness in Y/N’s body that was causing this. Morrigan took a few steps back, before she crashed into the wall of the hallway and let out her own sob.

And for the first time after Rhysand and Y/N had returned from the mountain, Morrigan wept.

Two days passed, and Y/N did not wake.

Madja estimated that they would have to make a decision within the week whether they would tell Azriel, or cut the flowers out.

And in those two days Azriel did not come.

It was only after Rhysand had asked him to meet, told him about Y/N did Azriel finally realised he had not seen his mate in days. That he had not even spent more than fifteen minutes with her in the past few months.

It was only after Rhysand said that Y/N was dying, did Azriel reach down the now cold and empty bond, and realise he had shut her out. And when he let his walls down, experienced the agony, the pain, the grief she felt even in her unconscious state, did Azriel regret.

“Why didn’t she tell me…” Azriel whispered.

“Because she heard you when I told you to stay away from Elain. I looked into her mind and I realised the day her disease started she went to find you, and you had been in my office, yelling at me that the cauldron had made a mistake, that you wanted Elain,” Rhysand laughed coldly. Even Rhys in all his beauty, his eyes were now red from sobbing, his voice hoarse from how he had cried, and cried.

“Good job, Azriel,” Cassian said from the doorway, “You got what you wanted. Your bond will no longer exist once she awakes…that’s if she survives even.”

“No….I don’t,” Azriel muttered, “Rhysand…what conversation?” Rhysand furrowed his eyebrows, “Are you really playing this game with me now? My sister is DYING! AND YOU WANT TO PRETEND LIKE YOU FORGOT WHAT YOU SAID!?”

Azriel’s eyes looked back and forth between his brother’s….when did he…when did he even get here?

Where was his mate?

Why did it feel like something just cleared from his head?

That was when Elain stepped in, holding a mug and what looked to be tea.

“Azriel, i heard your distress, drink this it will make you feel better,” She said softly, but as Rhysand’s eyes narrowed on the mug, it was Cassian who snatched it out of her hands, brought it to his eyes and shattered it on the already ruined hard wood floors.

“That was not just tea.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

And as Cassian lifted his head he declared, “As General of the Night court, I arrest you for illegal possession and use of aphrodisiacs. You are charged with attempted murder of the Princess of the Night Court. You are charged with manipulation and forced betrayal of the court’s spymaster,” And with a menacing grin Cassian said, “And you are charged because you bloody annoy me and you…what you have done today makes me want to rip you to shreds.”

A beat passed.

“That is….” Cassian continued as he glanced at Azriel, with each blink clarity seemed to return to the shadowsinger as he processed everything, as he remembered everything Elain made him do, as he remembered how he had hurt his mate, “That is if Azriel decides he doesn’t want to kill you first.”

Elain let out a scoff, looking down at the spilled tea and broken pieces of ceramic in disgust, “Azriel loves me. Azriel should love me not that disgusting slut of a female, she might be a princess but she is-,” “Mine.” Azriel interrupted.

“She was mine before you interfered. She was mine before you made me break her.” Azriel turned, no doubt to go find Y/N.

“Start counting your days, Elain, because now they are numbered.”

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Azriel taglist: @kemillyfreitas @going-through-shit @chessebookgirl

Part 2 here!!

Love, Ellie.

[cursedcola]

Prompt: How protective are they of their S/O?

Characters: Dorm Leaders (for now).

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland.

A/N: I did one of these for my fire emblem blog…and probably will do for a few other fandoms on this one. I really had to get that Malleus brainrot out of my head omg this was just what i needed.

Riddle Rosehearts

6/10

Very rarely does someone describe Riddle as ‘calm’. The words are not synonymous and do not belong in the same sentence. Then again, not many ever imagined that he would take on a partner either.

More so - that someone would be willing to be his partner. With all the mandatory gatherings, expectations, unprompted lecturing, overbearing perfectionism - yes. Riddle is a ball of anxiety that touches everyone and every thing. Being his s/o is welcoming that for a daily basis (perhaps life)

He is shockingly anything but these things when he is truly in love. Riddle trusts his partner to handle themselves, and believes a hardened shell is good for navigating the world. He will not baby his partner, because he does not want to be smothered in turn.

You will walk along side him. Head held high with the figment of a crown balanced atop it. A Ruler, not a subject - and he will smile on you with pride.

However, this does not make him heartless. He is not protective of you in a physical or social sense…but boy does he get jealous. In the worst ways as well. Riddle is too prideful to get defensive in public so for most acute cases it manifests underneath his skin. He lets the irritation of other students’ flirting fester until he becomes passive aggressive. Heartslabyul students experience war flashbacks to before his ‘change of heart,’ as he goes sour for days, weeks…possibly even a month if his spouse does not reassure him. He cannot handle being ignored or anyone openly making advances on you with him near. It’s disrespectful both towards you and him (do they NOT see him? He is perfectly visible and WILL collar someone).

On one final note. He also has a low tolerance for verbal slander or vulgar talking. Sexual. If you haven’t picked up on it already. If he so much as hears a slither of a suggestive comment…he will kill someone. It’s one thing to hear someone call your partner beautiful. Riddle knows you are. People would be blind not to notice…but that kind of talk? The thought that someone would envision his partner in such a way and dare to speak of it? The disrespect on your name? They’re dead. Expelled. Gone. Kicked out of the dorm if they’re one of his even though no Heartslabyul member would dare speak of you that way.

"Excuse me? Just what is it that you think you are doing? Such lechery is cause for lifetime punishment! Have you no shame?! I would report this to the headmaster but I am often told to be more selfish. Perhaps now is a good time to start. What should be your punishment, hm?"

Leona KingScholar

8/10

Leona is not going to admit it. He really won’t. He’ll push and tell you to leave him be nearly every day…but the moment you start to walk he’s right on your heels.

At some point your bedroom at Ramshackle became his from the frequency of him sleeping over. He took over your dresser, booted Grimm to the armchair, and even brought over his bedsheets/pillows.

Pah. “They’re better quality than these rags,” my ass. He just wants his scent on you and what better way to make it happen then to sleep in his sheets.

Is it alright for the head of another dorm to never be around? Unlikely. However, no one has complained about their bossy senior being missing so all is well.

Like Riddle, Leona recognizes your strength. You handle more stress on the daily than he is willing to put up with. However, no one f*cks with you when he is present. Not unless they want to be pummeled. It takes a mighty ego for someone to think that they can get away with insulting Leona’s s/o right in front of him. Let alone threaten you.

Even jokingly. The only people allowed to do that are those he trusts. He knows that a slap on the wrist from Ruggie or your heartslabyul pups won’t do damage - but someone else? Leona has a newfound hatred for people like Floyd since they drag you into trouble. One misplaced step in your direction and Leona’s snaking his tail around your waist and partially shielding you.

Low-key he has anxiety about you going missing. If you do not show up for lunch in the garden (which is routine) then he gets irritable, and if you are going out late at night then he either tries to convince you to stay home or tags along begrudgingly. Even on your walks with Malleus. No, especially on your walks with Malleus.

Which leads us to the final protective criteria. Jealousy. Have you seen the movie Lilo and Stitch? Do you know the scene where Lilo is showing stitch the drawing of his “good vs.bad” and his badness levels were super high? Leona. Leona with his jealousy.

He will act cocky all he wants with the whole “everyone knows you’re with me shtick,” but he is one possessive mf. If he so much as sees one wandering eye? Doom. Not “i will pummel you,” doom but “i am going to ruin your reputation” doom because Leona calls it out instantly. No perverts on his watch and ESPECIALLY no flirts. The only person who gets to make Leona’s s/o blush is him. No cap.

"Oi! Where do you think you're looking? Yeah, you. The dazer. I'll give you something to gawk at - huh? Fine, but if they so much as step near then I am not backing down,"

Azul Ashengrotto

6/10

Two words. Floyd. Jade. Enough said.

The relationship between Azul and the twins is hella overused, but for good reason. These two are literally his right and left hand.

Azul is a worry wart. This number would break the scale if the tweel brothers did not exist. You can’t blame him for his anxieties either. You are the ONE thing that Azul cannot control. If he could, Azul would draft the perfect contract where you would live in a safe bubble with just him. Except that’s wrong, and you would not be happy.

He doesn’t want to control you. He wants you to be happy but he simply cannot help the anxiety. Out of all the dorm leaders, he has the most enemies. He also has experience with abandonment, bullying, and overall has low self confidence. All this feeds into his protectiveness because you are the one constant in his life that he wants to keep safe.

Introducing the twins. The buffer. His in-between on being an overbearing partner and normalcy. He doesn’t even have to ask them for help, because Jade and Floyd love you too. They keep an eye out when Azul can’t, and it brings comfort. Sadly you’re wrapped up in more scuffles than Azul finds comfortable…and he can’t stop you. He tried. You’re just too nosy…but wherever you go you are supported. He freaks the heck out if you ever come to him bruised, or if the grapevine carries bad news, but he knows that if the twins aren’t spooked then you’re all good.

He worries about you leaving him willingly. Either you wake up and decide that he isn’t your match, that you won’t want to join him after graduation, or you might even decide to leave Twisted Wonderland all together. Azul is happy that Crowley is a lazy liar because it means that you have no way to leave. It’s selfish…but he can’t help it. You have to understand that for Azul? There is no one else. Only you. He is not the type to love twice, this is a one and done deal.

Which is precisely why he is easily jealous as well. Not to the extent of causing an altercation, but he can and will assert dominance. He may feel unworthy but when did that ever stop Azul? ‘Fake it until you make it’ as they say, and Azul will make whatever soul who dared to step in his territory feel like smeared shit underneath his shoe.

"Ah! Angelfish~ I missed you dearly. I hope your wrist is feeling better from that spill in poison making - how do I know about that? Oh the walls have ears, y'know. Can I get you something to drink?"

Kamil Al’ Asim

2/10

Head empty. Brain go brrrrrrrr

Just kidding. Kalim's head is full of thoughts. Some about class, others about his siblings, friends, maybe tomorrow's lunch - and you. He thinks a lot about you. Your smile, your laugh, when he'll see you next and if you'll call him soon. His heart is too full of positive thoughts to worry.

It's really that simple. Kalim is too optimistic to be protective. The idea of you cheating on him hasn't crossed his mind once. If someone flirts with you? Well, so long as your cool with it then heck yeah. He agrees. He supports it because you deserve to be praised.

Which...actually ends up chasing people off anyways. Someone calls you gorgeous? Comments on your clothes or maybe compliments you on your performance during the last exam? You bet Kalim is right there egging them on. He is the poster boy of the golden-retriever supportive boyfriend. Spewing his speech about how you're amazing and that he is so lucky to have you. It gets embarrassing but it does the job. By the time he's done your pursuer either got annoyed and gave up...or recognized that it would be impossible to match Kalim's love. Only an idiot would break up with someone who adores the very ground they walk on, and you are no idiot.

Tell him to stop and he won't because (1) he loves seeing you flustered. It's like a reward and (2) he refuses to let his love go unknown. In other words, everyone knows that you are taken. There is not a single soul at Night Raven College that hasn't heard about Kalim's simpery for the prefect.

Another unconscious checkmark. Money is power, and Kalim's family has a lot of if. They've funded more events at NRC than Crowley has the will to remember. No one. And I mean NO ONE. Would even tinker with hurting you. It's funny how the moment you start to date Kalim, the hole in Ramshackle's living room gets fixed by the next day. Y'know, the one that's been weathered for months and letting all the heat out. The heat from the fireplace because Ramshackle never got proper thermal vents installed. All the broken locks in your dorm were changed, and there was a lovely fruit-basket sitting outside on the porch. Compliments of the NRC staff <3

Let's not forget about the uhh...extra support from Jamil. I know. I know. Jamil caring for Kalim's s/o is a given. He'd do it even if he wasn't asked. The fact is that Kalim requests for Jamil to help you. Kalm has the fortunate luxury of most things being handled on his behalf. He has no reason to worry because there are instilled factors put in place to prevent the emotion from being supported.

Yet, he is of mind to recognize that being with him has costs. He knows that you can handle your own, but what about threats you don't expect? The money grubby kiss-asses and subtle dangers like poison. He's not stupid. You're new to Twisted Wonderland and there is so much about this world that you don't know. He wants to help you personally, but knows that it would do more harm than good. So he confides in Jamil, and then never speaks of it again.

"I'm sure that they will be alright but can you keep an eye just in case? Don't let them know or they might feel scared!...really? Thank goodness! I am meeting them soon so byebye for now. Remember to keep this a secret, Jamil! Hehe~"

Vil Schoenheit

2/10

He's a narcissist

This one is a bit short, and for good reason. Vil's ego.

Vil needs to be perfect. Has to. He truly is the fairest and will be perceived as no less. The voice in his head may occasionally speak otherwise but it never takes hold over his control. You will never see it present itself. He would sooner die.

If there is a soul in Twisted Wonderland who is brave enough to move in on his s/o, then he commends them. It takes courage to willingly offer yourself up as an example to the masses.

He's imagined it. Some pour student attempting to flirt awkwardly and in the most boorish way. Be it a single rose on your desk with a letter of love declaration, or a witty one-liner they pulled out from a book? How dull. The only emotions that the figment evicts are disgust and pity. The former on your behalf for being subjected to such mediocrity, and the latter on behalf of the student. It's bad enough for them to be rejected by you, but now they must be shamed by Vil. He is a merciful man, but allow one to make the mistake of chasing what's his and others will soon follow. As is the way of this competitive world.

He does not scorn any for being attracted to you. How could he? After all, it takes a marvel to woo someone like himself. It's natural for others to notice your sparkle.

They may look, but not touch. A privilege he gives that is not to be betrayed.

Like Kalim, he has no consistent reason to worry. He is so confident in his ability to smite anyone and anything that it is the biggest deterrent to all with ill intent.

On occasion there may be instances of social media backlash, or invasions of privacy. These irk him somewhat, but he knows that they will pass. So long as you are not distressed, then he does not mind them.

"Oh dear, just ignore them. In a week or two you'll be yesterday's news and they will find some other poor soul to torture....hmm. If it bothers you so much, then I will shield you as we walk. Come. The paparazzi loves this face anyways,"

Idia Shroud

8/10

I have said it before and I will say it again. Idia's largest tie to his dorm is his attitude. *cough* His temper. He is highly competitive despite his self-deprecating nature. His ego is unmatched. He is also snarky, and if pushed can talk someone down harsher than Crewel.

He also has too much time on his hands. Schoolwork is a chore that ticks maybe a few hours out of his day. He barely leaves his room, and even more rarely leaves his dorm. For the most part your relationship relies on you coming to him. That's okay. You knew this going in and have accepted it. He is also grateful for how accommodating you've been with his situation and in reassuring him. Yes sometimes he can be an asshole and get greedy. You always put him in his place though, and somehow your relationship dynamic is balanced just right. Not perfect, but not unhealthy.

Comfortable. Secure. Idia is happy. Do you have any idea how hard that is to achieve? He is well aware. He sits around during his free time with it nagging him. Just waiting for the day you grow tired or he lets you down. Some things can't be undone. He's hurt Ortho at times despite loving him more than anything. He'll hurt you and he's scared that when it inevitably happens that you'll leave him.

Idia protects you from himself. From his want to hog your attention and let his greed for your attention take over. When you first started dating, he half-wanted to get you your own tablet to attend school with. Move you into Ignihyde and lock you away with him. Where you would only see him, spend time with him, eat your meals with him, play games with him, save your kindness for only him, and be safe. No more getting into normie messes like magic duels and fighting beasts. No more working towards finding a portal that will take you away...

Almost. He knew that would hurt you. Somehow he matured enough to know that and restrain himself. What the heck did you do to him?

This doesn't mean you're entirely free though. He's still frightened. People scare him and it's bad enough that he has to worry over Ortho. Now you?

He watches you go around campus through the security cameras, and very rarely are you spotted without his tablet floating nearby. His attendance has been better in the classes you're in, and he hates that his teachers have noticed. His reputation has improved, since he's forced to at least say a greeting to the people you hang around once in a while.

Jealousy fuels the flame. He holds back as much as he can, but Idia has never loved like this before. His social awkwardness completely takes the backseat if someone he deems a threat is nearby. If someone flirts with you he has no filter in the moment, and likely beats himself up for it later on. This happens often due to your popularity...ugh. Damn you normies and your small talk.

He's bound to witness one of the many skirmishes you get thrown into. Crowley treats you like a walking campus security...and he is not happy. Not at all. I stated above that he very rarely leaves his room. More so his dorm. Even he has limits and won't sit back just to hear yelling through his earmuffs. The first time it happens? Well, he's bolting. After? Lets just say he had some special security measures installed in his tablet....

"Are you sure you don't want to come over? I got this new game for us to play and I bet I can beat you at it....ugh. Fine. Whatever. Just text me when you're walking home - No! I'm not watching you! Just shut up and do it please!"

Malleus Draconia

10/10

…must I explain?

Do you have any idea what happened when the name 'Tsunotaro,' fell from your lips? Do you?

No. It didn't just make him laugh his little cute fufufufu~ in his head. It flipped a switch.

He fell in love. Right then and there. He might not have known it yet but it's the truth. No one had ever dared to call him something so silly or look at him with pure joy. The smug twinkle in your eye as you declared it proudly.

He was yours, and you were his. You were to the only person in all of Twisted Wonderland that could ask him to jump, and in turn he would ask "how high".

In that moment, Malleus Draconia would kill for you. He would die for you. Loving you would soon become as easy as breathing. In a way, it already was. He simply underestimated at the time how deep his affection for you would root itself in his heart. He mistook it for soft adoration, but it was merely the calm before the storm. That instant was the catalyst to a lifetime of love, and also a lifetime of sorrow.

Being a dragon has nothing to do with it. Bonds with this man run deep. Family is the most important thing, and you are his love. There is no puppy love dating. None of that shit. Only courting because you WILL be his betrothed and you WILL become his spouse. This man is in love and he will accept no other. That is simply his personality. His emotions are pure and heavy. Raw. Fragile. Honest.

He will keep you safe. He has seen you fearful. Seen your strength as you transverse new world. At first it intrigued him as he watched from the sidelines, but now he wishes to travel back and steal you away. Take you to safety and prevent all those horrible events from happening, even though they were necessary for your friends to grow. Nothing is worth you being hurt. He would sooner let the school burn than see another scar on your body or mind.

The day he came to terms with his affections (which did not take long) he swore, never again. Even prior to courting you, never. Your friendship was irreplaceable. The only thing allowed to take you from him would be your own mortality....and even that would soon become a stretch, he's working on it.

View Malleus like a warm blanket. Comforting, not suffocating. A calming presence that wraps around you and fills your body with warmth on the coldest days. You would never dream to leave him. He ensures it. He is not a perfect man, but he is one that will love you like no other on the planet. Many vow that their love is eternal on their wedding day. This is not always upheld.

Malleus is a man of his word. You will see it deep in his emerald eyes the moment he declares his love. Nothing will ever bring you harm. No one will ever offer what he can provide. Not a being in existence will be able to match the affection this man holds. His love truly is eternal.

"You are my deepest treasure. Do you realize what this means?...Haha. No, I will not force you to join me in gargoyle studies. Not unless you wish it...It means that I am yours, and in turn you are now mine. No one will dare harm you unless they wish to become my enemy,"

Bonus: PLATONIC! Bestie Grimm

10x10^10

Little man, big heart.

Heart says to protect the henchman

So protect the henchman he shall do

No googoo eyes are allowed. He will attack ferociously

He will challenge all threats, and then drag you to run away if someone actually tries to fight him

Little man leaves you his spare tuna if you look sad. Be grateful!

He just wants you to like it here, okay? Otherwise you'll drop out and he'll lose his enrollment! Don't think too much on it

Will defend your honor to the very end. Only the great Grimm can make fun of his henchman! All others will feel the power of his flames

....please patch him up if he returns home injured. Deuce tried but the bandages are never tied right

"What happened? Well wouldn't you like to know! Hmph. Nothing more than a few lower lackeys trying to tussle with the Great Grimm...Did I win? Of course I won! What kind of talk is that....sheesh. Last time I defend your name. Hmph. Nothing! I said nothing!"

[me-and-your-husband]

yours truly and forever || j. miller

summary: you find ellie and joel in need of help, desperately. you take care of the two, when affection for joel creeps up on you and you can’t shake it. he can’t stay, but maybe, if you don’t think too hard about it, that won’t matter. 

an extension from the end of episode six, “kin”. 

warnings: female reader, kinda reference to the events of the game, so potential spoilers for the season i guess?, angst, smut, smut with feels, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink (?), half proofread, not as feral as what i usually write? kinda soft sex. let me know if i missed anything.

word count: 5.6k (i think this is officially my longest fic???)

A/N: episode six destroyed me on a different level. didn’t stop my thirst tho. also, i am NOT a medical professional so the terminology and stuff is probably not correct. tried my best.

here’s my masterlist if you’d like to read more of my work!

“I think we’re safe.” Joel’s weak body slumped off the horse, falling into the snow. “Joel, no, no, no! Shit,” Ellie cursed as she dismounted the horse and scrambled to him. She called his name to no avail, using his hands to cover the festering wound on his abdomen. “Joel, open your eyes. Open your eyes. Joel, you gotta get up,” she pleaded. Her voice dropped to a whisper, “I can’t fucking do this without you. I don’t know where the fuck I’m going, or what the fuck I’m gonna do. Joel! Please. Joel, please.”

She sat fisting his collar, pleading for him to open his eyes, when she heard the sound of hooves shuffling through the snow. She first thought Shimmer had run off. Whipping around, the horse was right where she left it. The panic that was already coursing through her became more potent. She reached for her gun, ducking in the snow next to Joel. She could almost taste her fear on her tongue as a figure on a black horse trotted over to Shimmer. Reaching out a hand to stroke Shimmer’s muzzle, the figure said, “Hey, girl. Where’d you come from?” It was a woman’s voice. Ellie clutched her gun, just the way Joel had taught her. The woman dismounted her horse, boots crunching in the snow as she walked around Shimmer. When her gaze trailed down to the young girl with a gun pointing at her, she brought her hands up slowly, non-threateningly. 

“Stay back!” Ellie shouted. She couldn’t see much of the woman, a bandana covering her neck, reaching under her eyes. She had a hat on, one of the ones Maria had worn in Jackson. She was well bundled for the weather, Ellie noted. Must live around here. 

“I’m not here to hurt you. Just saw a stray horse. Thought someone might need help, is all,” you said, hands still in the air. “And it looks like I was right.”

Ellie glanced towards Joel. “How do I know you’re not gonna kill us? Fucking eat us, or something?” She spat. 

You laughed, “I’m not going to eat you. That’s what my cattle and crops are for.” You told her your name. “I’ve got a house just a few miles up. I was doing a perimeter check before I found you, actually. It’s secure. I can help your dad there.”

Ellie didn’t bother correcting you. Instead, she contemplated taking you up on your offer. Well, if she didn’t go with you, Joel was dead. If Joel died, she might as well be dead too. “Fine.”

“Will you lower your gun so I can help him?”

She put her gun down, watching as you calmly moved towards Joel, hiking him up over your shoulder and situating him on top of your horse. You sat behind him, his weight fully leaning against you, as Ellie mounted her horse. “This way,” you said, pressing your calf into your horse’s ribcage to get her to go. Ellie followed close behind as you led her to your home. 

“Why’re you helping us?” Ellie asked when you were about halfway there.

You took a few seconds to answer. “There was a time when I needed someone to help me, but nobody would. This way, come on.”

You put the passcode into the keypad, opening the gate, gesturing for Ellie and Shimmer to go in first. You followed her, instructing her towards the large white house that sat in the middle of the property. When you got to the porch, you dismounted the horse and placed the man back over your shoulder, climbing up the steps. Ellie dismounted too, looking for some place to tie the lead. 

“Don’t worry about that. Fence goes all around the place. Come help me open this door,” you said, occupied with trying not to let him fall from your shoulders. His frame was much bigger than yours, making it difficult to balance. Ellie twisted the nob and pushed the door open. You found your couch immediately, laying him down as gently as you could, shoving a pillow under his head. “Stay here with him. I’m gonna go grab my kit.”

She waited there with Joel until you returned, squeezing his hand, praying for him to wake up. Praying that they were safe here. 

When you returned, you were carrying a giant leather bag. She had expected a simple first aid kit. At her puzzled expression, you said, “Normally, I’m doing surgery on the horses or cows, not men.” She nodded in understanding.

As you set up with bedpans, scalpels, scissors, gauze, anything you might need, Ellie took a moment to look around. Hung on your walls were portraits of anything and everything. She’d always loved art, never having the time to really explore it herself. This place didn’t look like it was home to someone who was gonna slaughter them. “I’m Ellie,” she said, making you turn from your stool by the couch. “That’s Joel.”

You gave a reassuring smile. “Nice to meet you, Ellie.” Now, you pulled down the fabric from your mouth and threw your hat down on the floor, shucking your jacket off too, hoping it would make you less intimidating to the young girl. “Might wanna get comfortable. This’ll take awhile. 

Ellie made herself a home on the loveseat adjacent to the couch Joel was on, taking her jacket off and laying it next to her backpack. “How did this even happen?” you asked as you sanitized your tools.

“He got stabbed,” she said, looking down at her hands. “He didn’t even notice at first. He…” she trailed off. You gave her a look of understanding.

You cleaned the area and got to work. You were happy that he was unconscious. All you had was horse tranquillizer, and you were almost positive that it would kill him. Joel twitched and squirmed a little, but you were calm as you worked.

Ellie’s eyelids were drooping and her head was falling when she heard you say, “All done,” as you wiped your bloody hands on a rag. She got up to get a look at Joel. His bloodied shirt and jacket were off, showing the wound on his abdomen, all stitched up. “See that area around the wound?” You said, fingers gently grazing over the skin. “It’s pink. Means there’s probably an infection. I’ll see what I have, but I don’t think I have enough antibiotics,” you said as you cleaned the blood from your tools. You saw a look of disappointment in her eyes. 

“But,” you started, “there’s an old pharmacy a mile or two from here. I can go tomorrow. See what they have.” She nodded, a hopeful look in her eyes. “Come on, help me get him upstairs.”

The two of you took him to one of the guest bedrooms, laying him down on the bed. You slid his thick jacket back on, but left it unzipped so you could easily redress his wound. “I can show you to the other guest room. Mind, I don’t usually have visitors, so it’s-”

“No,” Ellie cut you off. She flushed. “Thanks, but I’m staying with him.” You nodded. She didn’t want him to wake up alone. 

“Alright, then. There are blankets in the closet over there,” you pointed. “My room is across the hall, at the end. If he wakes up or something is wrong, come get me. I’m leaving for the pharmacy at dawn, so help yourself to anything in the kitchen. You can shower if you want, too. If he wakes when I’m gone tomorrow, don’t leave. I’ll need to give him those antibiotics as soon as I get back.” She nodded. You began to walk out of the room, but she stopped you by calling your name. You turned.

“Earlier, you said that there was a time when you needed help, and nobody would give it to you…?”

You sighed. “A while back, about ten years ago, before I settled here, I was travelling with some people and my little brother. He ended up getting shot. His leg. I couldn’t stop the bleeding and…they just left us there. Left him there to die,” you swallowed, looking down at your feet. She looked at you, offering a sad smile. “Night, Ellie. Get some sleep.”

You returned around noon the next day with the antibiotics for Joel. Announcing yourself when you walked in, Ellie came stumbling down the stairs. You took in her wet hair and changed clothes. There was hope in her eyes, but also urgency. “He woke up! Just for a little while. He was pretty out of it, but he asked where we were,” she said.

“And what’d you tell him?” You said as you took your outerwear off and grabbed your bag with the antibiotics. 

“I told him we were safe. He wasn’t awake long enough to give him the full story, but now he’s all sweaty, and mumbling and shit and-”

“Shit,” you cursed, rushing up the stairs past the girl.

“Wait, what is it?” she called after you.

“Sounds like he’s got a fever. Could have delirium, too,” you said as you entered the room Joel was in. He was clammy, sweating, chest heaving, body radiating an ungodly heat, mumbling incoherencies. You moved his jacket to the side. “Looks like the infection is spreading,” you mumbled. Grabbing the syringe and bottle from your bag, you filled the syringe, sticking it into the pink flesh of Joel’s stomach. 

“He’ll need another dose in a few hours. It probably won’t kick in until the second or third dose,” you said, wiping the sweat from his head and neck with a rag. You turned to Ellie, who’s eyes were fixed on Joel, yet distant. “Hey, did you eat yet?” She shook her head. “Let’s get you something to eat, then,” you said as you led her to the kitchen.

Four days passed before Joel woke up. Four days spent mostly at his bedside, reading some book in between administering his doses. Making sure Ellie was fed. On the second day, Joel woke briefly again, panicking. However, Ellie was able to calm him down, reassuring him that they were safe. On the third day, you got through to Ellie a bit more.

“So, what brought you two this far out?” you asked innocently, closing your book and resting it on your lap. She seemed to freeze.

“We, uh…we were looking for Joel’s brother. We ended up near the university and got ambushed,” she said. She was lying. That was fine. You couldn’t really blame her. You hummed in response. 

It was silent for a few minutes before she spoke again, “He’s not my dad, you know.”

You offered her a soft smile. “Okay.” You went back to reading your book.

On the fourth day, when Joel woke up, you were in the kitchen doing the dishes left from your lunch with Ellie. A few hours ago you had re-dressed his wound and given him another round of antibiotics. The angry pink of his skin was subsiding and he was no longer feverish, resting peacefully on the bed. You hummed to yourself as you scrubbed the plates in the soapy water. 

Hearing two voices from upstairs, you dried your hands on a dish rag and made your way upstairs. The deep, gruff voice halted as your footsteps sounded out against the hallway floor.

“It’s safe, I promise. I trust her.” Ellie’s voice, pleading. A grunt.

You turned the corner with a polite smile, resting against the doorframe. You took the man in, greying hair dishevelled, sat up, staring daggers at you. 

“Good to see you awake,” you said, telling him your name. 

“How long was I out for?” he asked, his voice a gruff southern accent, but still laced with distrust. He was on edge.

“Five days.”

He looked at Ellie, who nodded. He groaned, eyes training back to you. “Where’s my stuff?” 

“Ellie has it all in the other room. Your horse is in my stable.”

“Then we’ll be on our way,” he said, attempting to get himself up, a groan of pain ripping through his chest as you walked forward, pushing him back down by the chest.

“Hold on, cowboy. You were stabbed. You have an infection. You’re in no shape to go back out there. Besides, there’s a storm rolling in soon.” You reached to the nightstand, grabbing the bottle of antibiotics and the syringe. 

He looked at Ellie. “She’s telling the truth. She found us when you fell off the horse. She brought us back here. Stitched you up and shit. She even went out to get you those antibiotics. She’s the reason the both of us aren’t dead. She’s been feeding me and everything,” Ellie said, then quieter, “I trust her.”

Joel looked you up and down. You held up the syringe, asking silent permission to give him another dose. “Fine,” he grunted.

It took a few weeks for Joel’s infection to heal and for the winter blizzard to pass. After about a week of bedrest, as prescribed by you, Joel was walking around with Ellie, going to the dining room for meals rather than you bringing them to the bed, and even helping you with small tasks. The truth is, Joel felt indebted to you for saving his life. For taking care of Ellie. For going so far out of your way to bring them safety. After a while, he was able to trust you. 

But there was more. As he helped you put away the dishes, your fingers would brush as he passed you a plate, the air between you two going still. You’d be silent for a few moments, continuing your task, before picking conversation back up as though nothing happened. You’d be out in the stable together, brushing the horses. One of them would whinny and you’d genty laugh. He found your laugh infectious, finding a smile spreading across his face and a chuckle falling from his lips. When you caught his eye, he’d flush, looking back at Shimmer. She’d nudge him with her muzzle, as if to prompt him to say something more to you. He never would. Or maybe it was the time you were eating dinner with him and Ellie, pouring yourself and Joel wine. You had reached over to give him his glass, knocking yours onto yourself in the process. You had cursed, lifting your shirt over your head, white undershirt untouched by the stain. You didn’t miss the way Joel looked away, warmth rising up his neck. Ellie didn’t miss it either, as she held in a laugh and nudged him suggestively, lifting her eyebrows. You didn’t say anything. 

Between the lingering touches, the fleeting glances, and the burning moments, you knew that there was something unspoken that hung thick in the air between you and Joel.

After three months, Joel was fully healed. The storm lasted about a month, the last winds finally subsiding. Ellie had slept in. It was just you and Joel having coffee. You leaned against the counter. He sat at the table, facing you. You were making light and easy conversation, as it usually was between you two.

He cleared his throat and looked into the liquid in his mug. “We’ll be outta your hair in about a week, if that’s okay. Don’t wanna overstay our welcome,” he said, avoiding eye contact. You began to protest, but he cut you off, “You’ve already done so much for us,” his voice was like honey, thick and smooth. There was some kind of resistance mixed in with it. “Don’t worry about us, darlin’.” The name rolled easily off his tongue. It was a recent development, always something endearing. You figured it was just his way of showing he trusted you.

You huffed. There was no arguing with him when his mind was set on something. “Alright, then. Take any supplies you need. We’ll load up your horse the night before you leave,” you said, pouring the rest of your coffee down the drain and leaving the kitchen. Joel caught the hint of…something, in your voice. Sadness? Anger? Loneliness? He recalled a conversation he heard you having with Ellie about two weeks back.

“Doesn’t it get lonely out here? All by yourself all the time?”

A brief silence. “Yeah. Yeah, it does.”

Joel thought he was doing what was best by ignoring the searing touches and stolen glances, ignoring the feelings in the pit of his stomach. He thought that growing attached to you would only hurt the both of you. He knew he was right, but he began to wonder if you might be worth the pain.

That night, after you had bid Joel goodnight and Ellie was already asleep, you sat on your bed, in your thoughts, when soft knocking came from your door. “Come in,” you called out. The door opened and you looked up to see Joel. There was something behind his eyes that wasn’t there before. Guilt?

He approached you slowly, “May I?” You nodded. He took a seat next to you at the edge of your bed. 

How was he supposed to start?

“I, uh,” he sighed. “I’m not very good at this. And I know we aren’t leavin’ just yet. But I wanted to, uh, thank you. For helpin’ me. Us. We’d both be dead if it weren’t for you. And for your hospitality.” He looked at his hands resting on his lap. “You’re a real good person for that.”

You just shrugged and offered him a tight-lipped smile. Silence hung thick in the air between you two.

He cleared his throat, getting up from the bed. “Well, I guess I’ll get-”

“Why won’t you stay?” Your eyes met his, brows furrowed, something anxious brewing behind them. 

“I’ve gotta get the girl to her people,” was the only thing he could offer. He felt at a loss. You just nodded, standing in front of him. 

“Am I ever gonna see you again?” It was more of a plea than a question. 

Joel swallowed. “I don’t know.”

Your gaze drifted down to the floor. “What happens if you get hurt again, and there’s nobody like me there to help you?”

In an unexpected move, both by you and him, he grabbed your face with his hands. “I’ll be just fine, darlin’.” Your hands slid atop his.

“You don’t know that.”

He began to lean in. “I don’t know,” he said, his breath warm across your lips. “All I know is that now I’ve got somethin’ to come back for, someone I-”

“Don’t tell me you want me,” you cut him off. “Don’t tell me you want me now, when you’re about to leave.” He closed his eyes. Your hands fell from his. You moved out of his hold. “I can’t do this.”

The loss of his hands on your skin felt sore, wrong, but you knew that if you let him touch you, he’d hook you in, and it would hurt all the more to say goodbye in one week’s time. 

“Please,” you whispered, eyes closed, a single tear streaming down your cheek. You could feel the warmth of his body leave, hear him close the door gently behind him.

You didn’t rest much that night. 

Every day for a week, you rose early, making breakfast for Ellie and settling back in your room to sit with yourself. Peering out of the window every day, you couldn’t help but stare out at the snowy planes of Colorado, taking in the austere, frozen environment you’d settled in. The desolate feel of the earth around you only made you realize how lonely you had been before Joel and Ellie had showed up, longing for something, anything, but always left unfulfilled. In Ellie’s bright smile and Joel’s unspoken touches, you thought that you might’ve landed a few companions who could keep your soul warm in the winter. It felt like you had lost something when you realized that wasn’t the case. 

When you ventured throughout the house to shower, cook, or do household work, you found yourself tiptoeing, almost like you didn’t want to get caught. You savoured your conversations with Ellie, but you kept your words to Joel down to necessity. Short responses to his questions, shorter replies to yours. Never touching, in fear that the friction, like electricity, would spark something that neither of you could stop. Holding your breath when he was close to you. Avoiding eye contact. Never giving more than you had to. You both thought it would be easier to part this way, the fire growing in your insides unsatiated. 

The night before he was set to leave, you found Joel in the kitchen, rough fingers silently brushing over a map laid out on the table. 

He jumped at the sound of your voice, “I’m gonna go get your horse set with the things you’ll need.” He turned to you.

“I’ll come give you a hand,” he said, downing the last of his coffee and grabbing his coat. 

The walk to the stable was thick with tension, the dense silence lingering between the two of you. The sun was out, casting the image of your shadows on the crunchy snow. When you reached the large door, you slid it open, letting him go first. You still couldn’t look at him. 

You trailed behind him as he moved towards Shimmer, grabbing her saddle and slinging it over her back, fastening it. You knew Joel carried all of his guns on his person, so you began filling the saddlebags with medical supplies, ammo, water, cord, tape, anything you had stockpiled that might help him and Ellie get to where they needed to. 

“All set,” you said, fingers running over Shimmer’s mane. 

“Thank you,” Joel breathed. He was looking at you, searching for your eyes. You could feel it.

You nodded. “Don’t worry about it.” A few moments of rigid silence. “Leaving at dawn?” The question fell past your lips before you could think about it.

You saw him nod out of your peripherals. “Yeah.”

You give a nod, lips pursed. Still looking at Shimmer. Still avoiding his gaze. 

“Will you look at me?” He said suddenly, voice demanding, but ultimately soft.

You didn’t obey, looking at your feet instead. “Why?”

“It’s been a week. I know you’re givin’ me the cold shoulder, but at least look at me. Don’t act like you hate me. You’re killin’ me, darlin’.”

You blew out a puff of warm air. “If I look at you…” you started, nearly losing your gall. “If I look at you, I’ll forget that I’m trying to let you go.”

The words were thick, heavy. They hung between you two as if they were forbidden.

“Then don’t let me go,” he said, taking a step towards you. 

You said his name in a warning, taking a few steps towards the door. 

“You don’t have to let me go. I know I’m never gonna stop thinkin’ ‘bout you, honey. And I can’t promise that you’ll see me again, but I’m damn well goin’ to try to make it back to you.” 

You sniffled, “You don’t mean that.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“I do. I mean it with all of myself,” he said, moving forward to press his forehead against yours. “Let me show you.”

Once again, you could feel his breath on your lips. His were just inches from yours, almost touching, but never quite close enough. You finally looked at him, tears brimming your eyes.

“I can’t give you much, but let me give you what I can,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his forehead into yours harder, more desperately.

At that, you broke. “Okay,” you breathed.

He took that as permission to lean himself into you, the skin of his lips grazing yours, breath mixing with his. When he finally connected his lips to yours, it was like he breathed a warmth into your body, lighting every nerve. Your hands tangled in his hair, his cupping your face. The kiss started chaste, but became breathy and passionate. It ended with your lips red and swollen, both of you needy and desperate for something more. Always more.

The rush through the snow, through the front door and up the stairs to your bedroom was needy, your hand in his, dragging you behind him, nearly sprinting with anticipation. 

As Joel was locking your bedroom door behind him, you were fisting the collar of his shirt and kissing him. Your mouth opened wider for his tongue to explore, whines muffled by his mouth. The kiss was all the things you couldn’t say, I want you, I love you, stay.

He walked you backwards into your bed, falling on top of you when your legs hit the edge. Your hands found solace in his hair, tugging just right, making him groan into your mouth. He parted from you to grab the hem of his shirt and tug it over his head. Now, your fingertips explored the expanse of his chest and soft stomach, soft pads tracing the scar that brought you to him. Kissing into your mouth, across your neck, sucking at your pulse point, his fingers grazed the hem of your shirt.

“Can I?” He asked between kisses to your collarbone. You nodded, lifting so he could pull it off.

“Take it off,” you said, left just in your bra. His fingers reached behind you to unclasp it, pulling it off and revealing your tits. He barely hesitated, taking one in his warm mouth and palming the other. Your hands fixed back in his hair, moaning. “Joel. Fuck, I need you. Please,” you whimpered. After weeks of building up the tension, of his fingers tracing your skin just for them to stop, staring at his lips and yearning, you needed him. More than anything.

Joel groaned. “Beggin’ so pretty already for me, honey,” he said as he moved down your body, undoing your belt, sliding it off with your pants and chucking them to the ground. His fingers smoothed over your panties, noticing the wet spot growing in the centre. He grinned, “Let’s see how wet you are, hmm?” Pushing the fabric to the side, he could almost moan at the sight of your drooling cunt. “Fuck,” he said, running his fingers through your slick folds, brushing your clit gently, sending a shiver shooting through your spine. “This wet already? All for me?” 

When you didn’t answer, he pinched the inside of your thigh gently, “Answer, honey.”

“All for you. Only for you, Joel.” You were breathless, nearly delirious. You’d give anything for him to touch you, to put you out of your misery. 

Joel eased one finger inside of you, then two, and began pumping them in and out of your slick folds. You moaned wantonly, all shame abandoned. “That’s it, pretty girl. Takin’ my fingers so well. Squeezin’ them so good. Can just imagine how you’re gonna feel wrapped ‘round my cock.”

You could feel the knot in your core get tighter and tighter every time his fingers hit that spot inside you, obscene noises coming from your cunt. He could feel you sucking his fingers in, growing tighter around him. He eased a third finger in and used his other hand, previously squeezing into your thigh, to rub circles on your clit. “Fuckfuckfuck,” you sputtered, getting closer and closer. 

“That’s it, honey. Cum on my fingers. There it is,” he said as you clenched around his digits, moaning his name like it was the only word you knew. He rubbed the flesh of your thighs as you came down, kissing the supple flesh of your thighs. When you caught your breath, you pulled him back up into you. 

You began to notice the firm tent pressing against you. Surely, he was begging for release, too. Who were you to deprive him of that? 

“Your turn,” you said.

Flipping him over, you began to undo his belt and slide his pants off, laying your head on his thigh, when he stopped you, resting a hand on your jaw.

“Honey, if you put me in your mouth, ‘m not gonna last,” he says, slightly flushed, chest heaving just as bad as yours. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he looked similarly to how he did when he was feverish. Delirious. “Just wanna be inside you. That okay?”

“Fuck, yes,” you breathed, crawling back onto him. This time, he flipped you over, caging you between his arms. He shuffled his boxers off, his hard length springing out and hitting his lower stomach, tip weeping precum. You couldn’t help but whimper. “Fuck, you’re big.” He chuckled, flushing a little. “How’re you gonna fit inside me?”

“Relax, honey. I worked you open. Shouldn’t be too much of a stretch,” he assured you, pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips. “Ready?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Need to feel you. For so long.”

He lined himself up with your entrance. You held your breath, letting it out in a moan as he sunk into your waiting cunt. He groaned when he was fully sheathed inside you, the sound coming deep from his chest.

He kissed you as you took him in, your body accommodating his length. “Move. Please,” you moaned into his mouth. He pulled out, sliding back in with the help from your slick. He set a slow but hard pace, clutching your body to his as he speared in and out of you. His lips barely left yours, sucking in each other’s moans and converting them to breath. 

“So tight, fuck,” he moaned. “Already clenching around me. Feels so good around me, pretty thing.”

You moaned his name, a needy, desperate call for him to go faster. He picked up his pace, breath becoming erratic, a slight sheen of sweat breaking out across his skin.

“Not gonna last long, honey,” he groaned. 

“Neither am I. Cum inside of me, please. I want all of you,” you begged, too out of it to think of the consequences. He let out an obscene moan at the request.

“Want me to fill you up, yeah?” He said as he roughly fucked into you. “Fill you up so good that it’ll still be leakin’ outta ya tomorrow?” He was delirious, almost pussy drunk. You were both chasing your release, clinging to each other like there was no tomorrow. Because there wasn’t. Not for the two of you.

“Joel, I’m…oh, fuck!” you moaned as your orgasm hit you, knocking you into hysteria. 

“Right behind you, pretty girl,” he said, grunting. “You’re squeezin’ me so good,” he moaned, finally spilling into your cunt. He pulled you back into him as you both finished, moans muffled by each other’s tongues, sucking, biting, licking, kissing.

When the ecstasy ended and he could feel you squirming underneath him, he pulled out gently, taking care not to brush your clit too roughly. He watched as his cum leaked from your puffy hole, taking two fingers and shoving it back in. You whimpered a little at the contact. “I know, honey. Just makin’ sure I’m gonna stay inside of you.”

He finally laid down next to you, bringing you into his chest. You shoved your head in the crook of his neck, taking all of him in. 

You didn’t have to talk about tomorrow, or think about it. You just needed to be here, in this moment with him, face nuzzled into his neck, his seed still leaking out of you.

Tomorrow could wait.

You woke like you normally do, to the rays of splendid sunlight shining in through your thin curtains. Stretching, you remembered last night. Your hand reached for the spot you left him in, finding the bed cold. The cold of the sheet travelled through your fingertips, up your arm, through your shoulder, into your chest, and hit your heart. You scrambled out of bed, throwing on whatever you could find, and scrambled downstairs. 

There was no evidence that he had ever been there, except for the two pieces of paper that sat on the kitchen table. 

Your breath hitched as you picked the first one up, tears threatening to spill. It was a drawing done in simple graphite. A drawing of you sitting next to Joel, who was laying in bed. She had done it when he was still feverish. In the bottom right corner, she signed:

“Thank you for everything. I know it will work out. -Ellie”

You clutched it to your heart as you picked up the second one. A letter. It read:

My girl,

I hope you can forgive me for leaving you no room for a goodbye. Part of me thought it would be easier this way, not having to think about what you were going to say, or what you should have said. The other part of me wanted to stay in that bed with you, cozied up in your arms, until the two of us were too old to get up. I want you forever. 

But I made Ellie a promise a long time ago. She’s got nobody left. She’s just a girl, and I can’t leave her on her own. The guilt would eat me alive a lot quicker than any infection could. I have to get her to her people. When I’m done, I promise you that I’ll come back. I’ve marked your little farm on my map, there’s no chance of me missing it. Before you, I would’ve laughed at the idea of forever. Forever seemed like too long living in this world. Now, all I want is forever if I can spend it with you in my arms.

Thank you. For more than you know. I’ll see you soon.

Until we meet again.

Yours truly and forever, 

Joel Miller

part 2

permanent taglist:

@idkwhattonamethisblogs​

@winters-fairy​​

​

[libraryofgage]

Addams Family B-Side (1)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One (you're here!) Rick and Evelyn O'Connell (on the way!)

This is part of a series of unrelated works entitled "Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually" and I think that title is fairly self-explanatory. If there are any other couples you think would be good parents for our Stevie boy, let me know and I'll take them into consideration!

Anyway, the B-Side thing is because this is like taking my Addams Family Steddie au and just flipping the cassette tape hfjsdk

This time, it's Steve that's the Addams and Eddie that's normal!

Anyway, blame @whatthemeepever for this one specifically cuz it's gonna spiral into a wild ride actually, so let's all pray for Eddie in advance

If you'd like a tag for any future parts, let me know!

And, as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't

-------

The moment Steve is born, his father sticks a light bulb in his mouth. When it glows, he jumps with joy and throws Steve into the air. The moment Steve's mother realizes what's happening, she slaps his father upside the head, throws the light bulb at him, and threatens to blow him up again if he sticks anymore into Steve's mouth before he starts teething.

She follows through on the promise exactly two weeks later, and Steve's parents (one smug and the other notably singed but delighted) rebuild their house next door to his father's brother.

Steve's mother chooses his first and last name (Harrington, a reference to some long-lost family friend or other), and his father is reluctantly given the freedom to choose his middle name. In the end, he is dubbed Steve Faustus Harrington, a name his mother is so surprised to find acceptable that she kisses his father as a reward.

And so begins Steve's life.

------

"I can't believe you got expelled," Steve's mother seethes, gripping the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turn white. "Again!"

Steve crosses his arms, sinking lower in his seat as he glares out the window. "It's not my fault they were shitty friends. They got what they deserved."

He hears his mother laugh, the sound strained and indignant and very quickly followed by his father turning to look at Steve from the passenger seat. His sunken eyes are filled with suppressed delight as he asks, "What did they do this time?"

A few seconds pass before Steve sighs. "They said they couldn't go out later because they had to study for finals. I mean, what kind of bullshit is that? Finals are three weeks away, and they can't spare one weekend for the funeral museum?" he says, scoffing as he looks at his father, grins, and adds, "So, I brought the funeral museum to them, coffins and cremations and all."

His father's eyes light up, sheer joy and pride dancing in them. And for the very first time in Steve's life, his mother pulls over to the side of the road and parks the car.

"Pumpkin?" his father asks.

"Fester," she says, her voice low and somewhere in the range of upset, "do you remember when I tried to kill your entire family?"

"Of course. It was a splendid attempt."

She nods and looks at him with a tiny, somewhat pained smile. Then she turns and sets her gaze on Steve. "Darling, what kind of grades do your friends have?" she asks. "Because if you're anything like me, and I know you are, you tend to befriend people who are significantly dumber than you."

Steve blinks, thinking for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, most of them were about to fail," he admits.

"Then, isn't it possible they really were studying for finals? Especially if they were close to failing at a school where passing is a requirement of attendance? Perhaps you could have suggested going to the...funeral museum after finals?"

A few seconds pass as Steve considers her words, a crushing sense of realization and guilt dropping on his shoulders and traveling to the pit of his stomach. It makes him feel nauseous, and he stares down at his lap. "I fucked up," he finally says, voice quiet and apologetic.

"Of course not!" Fester says, reaching out and ruffling Steve's hair despite the affronted noise from Debbie, "Your plan was beautifully conceived and masterfully executed. Perhaps you should just talk a little more before pulling out the urns next time."

"Incredibly, your father is right," Debbie says, looking pleasantly surprised before turning her gaze to Steve. She sighs and holds out a hand, squeezing Steve's when he takes it. "Don't get so blinded by a beautiful pair of shoes that you completely miss the sale two aisles over, Steve. At the very least, do a little more research before resorting to torture and murder. Personally, I'm very tired of calling the family's lawyer."

Steve snorts at the utter lie. Debbie loves calling the family's lawyer. She does so regularly just to double-check the state of Fester's stocks and bonds and deeds and general worth. "Okay," he says, nodding once, "I'll remember for the next school."

"You know," Fester says, looking at Debbie hopefully, "Pubert is a senior this year. Maybe Steve could go to high school with him."

Debbie hesitates, frowning slightly before saying, "Yes, but it's...public school."

"The best Gomez and Morticia could find! It was highly recommended by Margaret, and Pubert can make sure Steve adjusts and makes friends."

Steve can see the moment his mother agrees. She sighs, lets go of his hand, and fixes her already perfect bob. "Well, I suppose," she says before looking at Steve once more. "And you, Steve? Would you like to try...public school for your junior year?"

"Sure, might be fun," Steve says, thinking about all the movies he's seen that display public high schools as a zoo and the worst place on Earth. It sounds great, and if the place is still standing while Pubert attends, it must be somewhat entertaining.

------

"You've got everything you'll need?"

Steve looks up from lacing his shoes and smiles at his mother, earning a nervous grin in return. Her blonde hair is uncharacteristically frazzled, and Steve feels warm and fuzzy (like a mold growing over his heart) at knowing she's so worried as to appear less-than-perfect in front of him.

"Yes, I've got everything," he says, gesturing to the backpack on the stairs next to him. In addition to notebooks and his pencil case, Steve has also packed a travel mace, a miniature bomb (alarm clock detonator stored separately, of course), a tiny bottle of tequila, and his lucky lightbulb (just in case).

His mother nods once, takes a deep breath, and then turns her head toward the kitchen to shout, "FESTER!"

Something crashes, a cat (they don't have a cat) yowls, and Steve's father slides into the doorway. "Yes, Pumpkin?" he asks, eyes bright and happy and utterly stuck on Debbie.

"Is Steve's lunch ready? You made something normal, right?" she asks, one eyebrow raised.

Fester glances at Steve, a brief look shared between them that's both sympathetic and endeared toward Debbie. "Of course," Fester says, disappearing for two seconds before striding over to the stairs with a pink lunch box decorated with black skulls (Steve chose the color, Fester chose the pattern, and Debbie gave them her stamp of approval). "A turkey sandwich, fruit, cookies, and juice."

"Fruit?" Debbie asks, her eyes narrowed slightly.

"Apple slices!"

After a few seconds, Debbie nods, and Fester gives the lunch box to Steve, shifting some so Debbie doesn't see the conspiratorial wink that tells him the juice is definitely poisoned. Steve grins and shoves the lunch box into his bag. He finishes lacing his shoes and stands, holding his arms out so his mother can inspect him.

"You've done a wonderful job pairing your shirt and shoes," Debbie says, walking around Steve with an air of pride and approval. She rubs the sleeve of his pastel yellow sweater between her thumb and forefinger, nodding once. "The plum pants are a bold choice, but it pays off. And, as always, your hair is flawless, dear."

Steve grins, letting his arms fall to his side. "I tried that new mousse you gave me," he says, fingers twitching as he fights the urge to run them through his hair. "It works great."

His mother smiles even wider and kisses his cheek, pulling out a handkerchief and carefully wiping away the lipstick residue she leaves behind. "I knew it would," she says, inspecting Steve's face once more before nodding with approval.

"Pumpkin, it's time for Steve to go. Pubert is waiting."

Debbie huffs softly and gives Steve one last once over before nodding and hurrying him toward the door. "Have a good day at school, try not to blow anything up, and call me if Pubert tries to cut off your head with a rusty knife again," she says.

"What if it's a clean knife?"

"Well, that's fine. Grandmama will just sew it back on."

Steve grins and waves to both of his parents before hurrying toward the sidewalk where Pubert is waiting. His hair is parted down the middle and gelled down, his pencil-thin mustache is immaculate as ever, and he's wearing a three-piece suit. When Steve is closer, he pulls out two cigars and offers one.

"This isn't an exploding cigar again, right? I'm wearing a new shirt," Steve says, taking it and looking it over.

"Nah, that joke only works once," Pubert says, dragging a match against his palm to light it. He holds it to his cigar first, puffs a few times, and then does the same for Steve. "How long till you get expelled again, you think?"

Steve shrugs as he takes a puff from the cigar, letting the smoke linger for a moment before skillfully blowing it out in perfect circles as they walk. "I haven't been to a public school before," he says, tapping the cigar over the sidewalk, "so, hopefully, at least a year."

"Public school is fun," Pubert says, getting a wicked grin as he looks at Steve. "You can get away with a lot."

"And the other kids?"

"Well, they've certainly got a lot to learn. I mean, most of them can't even handle a little cyanide."

Steve scrunches his nose and takes another puff of his cigar. After a few seconds he asks, "Will we have any classes together?"

"You're a year below me, so maybe an elective or two. What did you sign up for?"

"I signed up for, uh, shop class, forensic science, and Gothic literature."

"We'll have Gothic lit together," Pubert says, flashing a smile before asking, "And you know what shop class is, right?"

Steve blinks, suddenly a little hesitant. "Is it not, like, something about shopping?"

"No. It's building things. With wood, usually."

"Oh! So, I can build anything?"

"I guess. I haven't taken it."

"Well, I'll find out. Maybe I can build Dad a catapult or guillotine or something."

As they get closer to the school, more students fill the sidewalks, but Steve notices that most of them seem to give him and Pubert a wide berth. They also stare, looking at Steve like he's some kind of puzzle to be solved, with more than a few flashing sympathetic smiles like he's trapped and can't get away. "You're popular," Steve notes, taking one last puff of his cigar before dropping it into a trash can.

"I would fucking hope so," Pubert says, finishing off his cigar and tossing it into the next trash can they pass. "I didn't flood the place with roaches and vermin to not be known."

Steve grins, listening as Pubert regales him with the tale only to cut it short when they get inside the school and pass the front office. "I need to get my schedule, but Mom said she made sure we'd have lunch together," Steve says.

Pubert waves him off. "Yeah, I'll meet you in the cafeteria. Have fun, cousin," he replies, mockingly saluting him before heading off down the main hall.

-----

Steve's first class of the day was AP Calculus, followed by AP Physics, Wood Shop, and AP U.S. History. When it's finally time for lunch, he surveys the cafeteria for a few seconds before finding a table in a dark corner that everyone seems to avoid. By the time he gets there, Pubert has sat down with a tray from the lunch line.

Steve sets his backpack on the table, sits down, and says, "For a place that's so lifeless, it's not even fun."

"Yeah, it's like that," Pubert agrees, poking some unidentifiable mush on his tray with a spork before spooning some into his mouth.

It's with a somewhat jealous expression that Steve pulls out his lunch box and removes a thermos of poisoned juice. "Is it bad?" he asks, nodding to the tray.

"Utterly repulsive."

Steve sighs and takes a sip from the thermos before pulling out everything else in his lunch box. "They made me wear safety goggles in shop. Safety goggles! It's like they don't know how fun splinters in the eyes are. And everyone is soooo scared of the saws, it's ridiculous," he complains, taking an angry bite of his sandwich.

"What about your other classes?"

"Physics would be better with more practical examples. I mean, who cares about apples when we could learn if a body falls faster than a cannonball?"

"From experience, no," Pubert says, "Anyway, you gonna join any clubs?"

"Maybe the swim team? If I'm lucky, I'll drown," Steve says, perking up a little at the thought.

"Best of luck with that," Pubert replies, stealing Steve's thermos to take a sip of his juice. When he places it back, he offers Steve a sporkful of the mush.

Steve lights up and happily tries it, wondering how something can be so perfectly undercooked and overcooked at the same time. "Impressive," he says, passing the spork back. "Is that freezer burn?"

Before Pubert can answer, a bang from the other side of the cafeteria cuts off all other sounds. Steve glances over to see a boy in heavy combat boots climbing onto his table with a mischievous grin. He's wearing a shirt with a devil head on it and "Hellfire Club" emblazoned above and a vest with spikes, pins, and patches. His hair is just below his shoulders and a little curly, and Steve can see from here the wild glint in his eyes as he stomps down the table while talking.

"I'm tired of the double standards of this lame school. If you're into science or band or some other 'uncool' interest, the administration couldn't give two shits! Oh, the choir room needs new risers so the current ones don't break any necks? Well, that's too bad, we've got to give the football team new monogrammed towels for the locker room!" the guy says, grinning when a group of kids to the side shouts their agreement. "And never mind that our Robotics team has won the school three trophies when the basketball team so valiantly scraped into third place last year for being kinda good at throwing balls into laundry baskets."

"Prick!"

Steve glances at the guy who shouted, taking in his letterman jacket before quickly dismissing him. He looks back in time to see the boy on the table sticking out his tongue and holding his hands to his temples to make horns. There's an even wilder look in his eyes now, a sheer glee at causing a scene and getting under someone's skin.

Steve doesn't realize he's smiling until the boy scoffs, shouts one more line about the school's unfair preference for "mediocre jocks," and hops off the table. He looks over at Pubert and asks, "Who was that?"

Pubert glances at Steve, studying him for a moment before swallowing another mouthful of mush and saying, "Eddie Munson. He does that once a week, usually."

"Eddie Munson," Steve murmurs, glancing over at Eddie's table again and smiling a little wider.

[favefandomimagines]

Storm’s Eye (t.o)

Request: @lonelyghosts-stuff “Helllllllo! I hope you are doing well! I was wondering if I could request a Tyler Owens x Reader enemies to lovers fic? I am such a sucker for that trope especially if it's like actually enemies who hate each other but then grow to care through shared experiences and learning about each other. Angsty and life and death stuff. Just super tropey lol”

AN: I’ve been trying a new writing style where I don’t write in the first person but rather the third person, but still using Y/N. Let me know what you guys think!

The sky was a bruised shade of purple.Tyler Owens was behind the wheel of his truck, eyes flicking between the horizon and the radar screen. He gripped the steering wheel, every fiber of his being tuned into the storm brewing in the distance. This was what he lived for—chasing the thrill, the danger.

Beside him, Boone and Javi were having a conversation about the best burgers in Oklahoma, but Tyler wasn’t paying attention. He was more concerned with staying ahead of the supercell that was beginning to form just over the ridge. His mind raced with calculations, predictions, and strategies, keeping track of the storm's trajectory in his head.

Then there was her.

Sitting in the backseat, quietly scrolling through the radar on her own tablet, was the new meteorologist Javi had brought onto the team. Y/N Y/L/N, the woman who had already gotten under Tyler’s skin.

“What do you think, Tyler?” Javi asked, peering over Tyler’s shoulder. “Y/N says we should head north and catch the storm as it loops back around.”

Tyler’s eyes snapped to the rearview mirror, catching Y/N’s gaze. Her eyes were sharp, confident—like she thought she knew everything there was to know about storms. It irked him.

“North?” Tyler scoffed, his voice laced with irritation. “We’re wasting time if we go north. The storm’s going to pivot east, not loop back. If you want to catch it, we need to stay on this road and head southeast.”

Y/N leaned forward, her expression calm but firm. “That storm’s got a hook echo forming. It’s going to swing north before it turns east. If we stay southeast, we’ll miss the rotation.”

“Miss the rotation?” Tyler barked a laugh. “I’ve been chasing storms for years, and I know this system. You’re just reading the radar. I can feel it.”

Her jaw clenched, but she didn’t back down. “You think I’m just looking at a screen? I’ve been in the field, too. And I’m telling you, if we don’t adjust course, we’re going to be too far south to catch anything.”

Javi glanced between them, trying to keep the peace. “Hey, guys, how about we—”

“I’m the leader of this team,” Tyler interrupted, his tone hard. “We’re sticking with my call. We go southeast.”

Y/N crossed her arms, frustration simmering beneath her composed exterior. Tyler knew she was good at her job—Javi wouldn’t have brought her on if she wasn’t—but that didn’t mean he had to like her stepping on his turf.

“I’ll be here when you realize you’re wrong,” Y/N muttered under her breath.

Tyler pretended not to hear, though her words festered in the back of his mind.

||

The next few days followed the same pattern. Y/N and Tyler clashed over nearly every decision—where to set up, what direction to head, even which equipment to use. The rest of the team, Boone, Javi, Kate, Lilly, Dani, and Dexter, watched their arguments like spectators at a tennis match, unsure of how to intervene.

“Maybe you should cut her some slack,” Boone suggested one evening after a particularly heated argument.

Tyler grumbled something incoherent and shook his head. Y/N was too smart, too stubborn, and way too sure of herself for his liking.

Later that night, while the others were fast asleep in the small roadside motel they were staying at, Tyler found himself unable to sleep. His mind was still buzzing from the day's chase, from the constant butting of heads with Y/N. He slipped out of his room and headed to the small, makeshift lounge area by the vending machines. To his surprise, Y/N was already there, sitting in one of the chairs with her nose buried in a weather report.

He hesitated, then finally walked over and sat down across from her. They sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the low hum of the soda machine.

Finally, Tyler broke the silence. “Where’d you go to school?”

Y/N glanced up from her report, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“I asked where you went to school,” he repeated, a little softer this time. “I’m just curious.”

She closed her report and leaned back in her chair. “University of Kansas.”

“Really? That’s a good program.” Tyler couldn’t help but be impressed, though he kept his tone neutral.

Y/N shrugged. “It’s close to home. My dad’s still there, and since my mom died a few years ago, I didn’t want to leave him alone for too long.”

The admission caught Tyler off guard. He hadn’t expected her to open up like that.

“He’s the one who made me want to be a meteorologist,” she continued, a small smile tugging at her lips. “When storm season would roll around, he’d stay calm. No matter how bad it got, he’d explain what was happening so I wouldn’t be scared.”

Tyler was quiet for a moment, processing her words. “That’s…that’s pretty cool.”

Y/N looked at him, her eyes softer now. “Why did you start your YouTube channel? Seems like an unusual hobby.”

Tyler rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of how to explain. “I started it because if it helps even one person know what signs to look for, where to take shelter, and it saves lives…that’s the goal. Storms are dangerous, but the more people understand them, the better their chances.”

Y/N nodded, and for the first time, Tyler saw something other than frustration in her eyes. They had more in common than he realized. “I was a bull rider before this.” He spoke. Not sure why that was the first thing that came to his mind.

“Really?” She questioned. “Yeah, I was pretty good for a while. But too many bulls to the head, I wanted to get out before I became a vegetable. When deciding what to do next, I remembered how I felt during my first tornado. I knew I was supposed to be scared, my aunt was freaking out in the driver’s seat. But I couldn’t help but feel excited by it. Remembering that feeling helped me decide to go back to school.” Tyler explained.

“I guess you’re not all bad, Owens.” Y/N teased. “You’re not so bad either, Y/N.” Tyler replied, a small smirk on his face.

||

Tyler thought that after their late-night conversation, things might start to smooth out between them. But when they were out in the field the next day, the old tension returned.

Y/N was insisting they head west, while Tyler was adamant that they stick to the eastern route.

“You’re not thinking clearly!” Y/N snapped, pulling out her map and pointing to the storm's trajectory. “The data shows the storm shifting westward. If we don’t move now, we’re going to miss the funnel!”

Tyler’s frustration boiled over. “I’m the leader of this team, Y/N. My decision stands. Your opinion doesn’t matter.”

The words were out before he could stop them, and the effect was immediate. Y/N’s face fell, all the confidence and fire draining from her. Her lips pressed together, but she didn’t say anything. Just nodded and turned away.

As she walked back to the van, guilt gnawed at Tyler. He knew what he said had hurt her more than he intended. He knew the sting of being dismissed in a profession dominated by men, and he’d just done exactly that to her.

||

The storm that day was worse than any of them had expected. The winds picked up suddenly, driving rain slashing sideways across the open plains. They had barely made it into a small town when the tornado sirens began wailing.

“Get to the storm shelter!” Tyler shouted to the team over the howling wind.

Y/N was running beside him when something caught her eye. She stopped dead in her tracks, looking toward the edge of the street where a young golden retriever, still basically a puppy, was tied to a telephone pole barking frantically.

“Y/N, come on!” Tyler yelled, but she shook her head.

“I can’t leave him,” she shouted back, running toward the dog.

Tyler cursed under his breath and sprinted after her. “Y/N, you can’t—”

“I have to save him!” she interrupted, fumbling with the leash as the wind whipped around her, making it nearly impossible to untie the knots.

For a terrifying moment, Tyler thought they were both going to get swept away by the storm. Without thinking, he grabbed her hands and pulled them away from the leash, then used his pocket knife to cut it.

“Let’s go!” he urged, pulling her to her feet.

She scooped up the dog, and they ran together toward the storm shelter, barely making it inside before the worst of the storm hit.

Y/N collapsed against the wall, clutching the trembling dog in her arms. “Thanks,” she panted, a breathy laugh escaping her lips.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Tyler said, though his heart was still racing from fear, not anger.

She just smiled weakly in response.

||

When the storm passed, Y/N was outside, kneeling beside the dog and handing out food and water to the town’s residents who had been affected. Tyler watched her from a distance, unable to shake the fear he’d felt when he thought she wasn’t going to make it.

He walked over to her, his voice softer than usual. “That dog’s not going to let you out of his sight now.”

Y/N smiled, ruffling the dog’s fur. “He’s our new team mascot.”

Tyler crouched down beside her, his tone serious. “I was scared. I thought you weren’t going to make it. And it made me realize…I’ve been awful to you because I liked you. I was scared of how I felt.”

Y/N blinked in surprise, her cheeks flushing slightly. “You liked me?”

“Yeah,” Tyler admitted. “And I think…I think I still do.”

Y/N smiled, her voice soft. “Well it’s a good thing that I have feelings for you too, Tyler.” Tyler let out a light laugh before leaning in ever so slightly

Just as they were about to kiss, Boone appeared out of nowhere, grinning like a fool. “So, what’s the plan, lovebirds? Heading back on the road or what?”

Tyler groaned, but Y/N just laughed, the tension between them finally gone, like the storm that had just passed.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Icy

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Teen!Reader

Summary: Ingrid gets angry

You break your wrist the day Mapi does her meniscus.

You're just playing around when it happens. Mapi's got you on her shoulders, despite Ingrid yelling at you to get the hell off, when she takes a misstep. She yelps loudly, drawing everyone's attention, and crumbles to the ground.

You're thrown across the grass of the pitch and skid. It knocks the wind out of you and you can hear the snap of your wrist when it hits the grass, bent at a weird angle.

It throbs and tears spring to your eyes but you don't think of anything but Mapi and practically crawl your way towards her.

Ingrid's already there though and she fixes with the iciest glare she can manage.

You freeze.

Ingrid's got a cold kind of anger that festers beneath the surface. It's very scary and you've never been on the receiving end of it before. It's like a bolt of lightning is shot down your back and you freeze, drawing your limp wrist into your body.

She turns back to soothing Mapi and you stay where you are.

It's clear that she doesn't want you to approach, clear that she's angry with you so you sit frozen on the grass.

Her glare is scary and she's mouthing something at you. You can't really make it out but it's something along the lines of staying the fuck where you are because you've already done enough.

Mapi rolls around in pain, slapping the ground so she doesn't scream and the medics come running on.

Most of them go to her but one comes to you.

He reaches for your wrist.

You pull away.

"Mapi," You croak out," Mapi."

"She's going to be just fine," He promises you," But you need to let me take a look at that wrist."

"No." You shake your head, desperately trying to peak over his shoulder to see Mapi.

Ingrid is standing up now, looking around like Mapi's personal guard dog. Her eyes rest on you and they narrow. You look away before she can say anything again.

She's angry at you, you know this, and you try to think of whose house you'll have to sleep at tonight. You live with Ingrid and Mapi but you don't think either of them will want you around tonight.

You yelp when the medic moves your wrist, instantly tearing it from his grip.

He grimaces and you freeze.

"What? What is it?"

"I'm sorry."

"Why? No, what is it?"

"Have you looked at your wrist, y/n?" He asks.

You shake your head. "No...Mapi-"

"I need some bandages!" He yells out to the others. He glances at you. "And probably a green whistle too."

It's funny, you think. You barely felt any pain when you were focused on Mapi and pumped with adrenaline. Now that you're looking at your injury, you feel the blood rush from your face.

Your bone is sticking out of your skin. Your stomach rolls as the pain hits you in full force. You're pretty good with injuries. You're not squeamish or anything but the sight of your bone poking out makes you turn and throw up all over the grass.

You feel so incredibly sick and disorientated that you barely notice Mapi demanding Ingrid tell her what's wrong with you. Ingrid's looking at you again. No longer is there an icy look in her eyes but genuine horror instead.

You're completely out of it as the medic tries to stabilise your wrist without agitating your bone. Someone sticks a green whistle into your mouth and you suck down hard.

Your eyes are all glazed over as you watch Mapi be placed onto a stretcher. Ingrid walks with her but keeps looking back at you. She drops Mapi's hand and moves towards you but you think you flinch away when she does so and one of the older girls (Marta or Paredes, maybe) pushes Ingrid away to follow after her girlfriend.

Unlike Mapi, who is wheeled to the physios to get scans, you're brought straight to the hospital and taken into surgery.

By the time you wake up, it's already dark out and there's someone holding your non-injured hand.

"Hey," Mapi says softly," You're looking rough."

You blink groggily at her. "How's your leg? Is it a..."

You don't want to say those three letters but Mapi just shakes her head.

"Meniscus," Is her answer," I'll be alright though. Just a little surgery in a few days."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"Ingrid thinks it is. She got really scary."

"She's sorry too," Mapi says," She knows how she reacted was wrong and she's getting you ice cream right now."

You're not too convinced but you don't want to argue with Mapi so you lift up your arm. You've got a cast around your wrist and you gather they doped you up on painkillers because it doesn't even twinge.

"It was a nasty break," Mapi says," Snapped part of your radius which then pushed your ulna out through your skin. It was gnarly." She pats you soothingly. "But you'll heal up in no time. We can be rehab buddies together."

That brings a smile to your face but it drops the moment Ingrid comes through the door.

You bottom lip wobbles. "I'm sorry." You hate how you sound so pathetic and broken.

Ingrid shakes her head and takes a seat next to you. "No, I'm sorry," She says," I shouldn't have treated you like that no matter how worried I was about Mapi. I'm very, very sorry."

You offer her a weak smile. "Does this mean I can still stay in the spare room?"

"Spare room?" Ingrid laughs," That's been your room for nearly a year now. You're not going anywhere."

[cubffections]

( ꣑꣒ ) 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐖𝐎 — scaramouche.

𑄸 ₊ ࣪ ㅤ cw. nsfw ( 18 + ) afab, sub! reader. oral. subtle body worship, occ ? obsessive scara, dubcon somnophilia, orgasm denial, ( scara ) song and world building credits to VIVINOS ! ♥︎

the mechanical thrumming of the platform muffled the obnoxious roaring stadium that scaramouche rose into, a crowd that was still high off the thrill that was the last round.

as scaramouche stood beside his blurred-face opponent gripping the fretboard of his guitar as he faced the crowd blankly, not fazed nor moved by the loud cheers of impatience that surrounded the stage.

his empty void he called a heart already knew what it craved, and it was sitting backstage brokenhearted and miserable.

he raised his guitar pick up into the stars before strumming the guitar’s frets once, effectively silencing the stadium and scaring the nobody of an opponent that stood next to him. not missing a beat, he walked up the stage and played the chords that only he knew. If these monsters wanted a show, he'd make sure to show them one.

( c’mon! ) the instrumental's backtrack rallied, the yells of the aliens soon resonating through the crowds. he wondered if these flashing blue and white lights showcased the disgust he had for them. he turned to check on you once again, his heart twisting to see you still hunched over and sobbing your eyes out. an expression he never thought he’d see on your once bright and vibrant face. scaramouche glared at you as he glanced back at the crowd to deliver his verse.

nothing was my everything. the melody that filled the empty me, it’s you, alright.

( my feelings are error : no better options. )

he couldn't remember when these longing feelings for you started, he just knew that every time you gave him that cheerful, carefree smile those same feelings would immediately fester and inflate his desolate heart. leaving it restless and yearning for your attention.

he could count the number of times he watched you from afar. behind bushes, behind trees, behind the garden’s tall leaves, scaramouche hid away just to watch you— no, admire you to an obsessive extent. unlike you, he was labeled the class’s problem child, always held inside solitary confinement due to his rash nature. it soon became something that he held as a badge of honor whenever he saw how incredibly brainwashed the rest of his kind was. like seriously? willingly being a pet human? sing and bring glory on stage to the great anakt? what a load of bullshit.

he wishes he could say he would rather die than do any of that, but then again— dying would mean separation from the only good thing that was brought into his life, which was you.

deep down he knows you’d never look at him, too busy looking at the one you’d declared your beloved universe. but with the fact that the one that had held that title had just perished on stage, scaramouche couldn't help but entertain the idea of taking his place.

a shaking paradigm, i don't care if my world turns upside down. i wanna know all about you.

( no more taking it slow, the edelweiss of my feelings that blossomed because of you. you’ll never know. )

“i don't wanna stop.” scaramouche sang out, his violet hair hiding his eyes as his fingers danced between the frets of his guitar as his voice echoed throughout the stadium. oddly enough, his mind still wouldn't entertain the thought of anything else but you. was losing him such a big deal? would it be so selfish if he asked you to move on right away?

and even if it was, why let that hold you back?

he could take such good care of you, help you forget all about what had happened, if only you looked at him. why won’t you? even as he was screaming into the microphone like this you still sat over to the side, crestfallen.

don't even think this time’s enough, cause you baby still it’s not enough for me, alright

( don't leave me, la li da da da .. )

his mind couldn't help but wander. soon he was no longer on stage, but besides your soft snoring sleeping figure as you laid in nothing but his baggy shirt. your face serene and void of any sadness as you clinged beside him.

“you awake?” he’d coo into your ear, scaramouche’s hands already traveling themselves up your bare tummy with love struck eyes. massaging your nipples slowly in circular motions before latching his lips onto them through your shirt, his hands moving downward to grip your hips and steady himself.

his eyes would watch your adorable sleeping face scrunch and wince slowly as your back curved against his mattress. "what a sensitive baby. i could give you so much more, just wake up wouldn't you." he'd mumur, brushing his lips against yours while his cock would stir at the soft drowsy whines and mewls that leave your soft lips.

"those cute noises can't save you." the guitarist sighed, detaching from your now perky nips and kissing down your thigh and leaving darkened hungry marks on your skin. scaramouche nibbled and licked the inside of your thighs possessively but adoringly, worshiping you silently.

as he laid into the crook of your thighs, you would soon feel his firm grip the squeeze into the flesh and push them apart to adorn you clothed clit with clumsy kisses. his bruised fingers sinking into your delicate skin as he pulled even closer, only guided by his inexperienced need to pleasure you. even if the smell of your dripping cunt made his cock yearn to sink himself into you, he could never prioritize his pleasure over yours. even if his poor dick has to twitch and throb in restraint, you squirting all over his face could happily send him into the afterlife.

"basically dripping into my mouth, have you no shame baby? shit." scaramouche groaned, pressing his nose into your heat with a obsessive glint in his eye.

after urgently tugging off your soaked panties and stuffing them into his pocket, scaramouche would sit you down on his face as his tongue played with your cunt sloppily. your half awake sluggishness wouldn't be able to keep up to his insatiable pace, rendering you weak and defenseless against his onslaught as his stiffened cock's pleads only being sated by desperate thrusts against the mattress. regardless, it'd be sheer bliss... well until you'll fully wake up, calling the name of the another man.

cause baby still is not enough, how dare you think this time's enough?

ain't nobody but you're the one i'm feeling, it's love.

scaramouche's jaw ticked as he sang out those last lyrics, ultimately ruining the dream-like escape his mind had made for him. as he played the last few chords with nothing but you in his mind, his stayed eyes shut as the points behind him calculated solely for him.

it isn't until he hears a desperate singing attempt from shit-brained moron behind him, that he snaps. immeadiately raising his guitar and crashing into his opponent's head with no remorse, causing the crowd's cheers to dissipate into confused gasps and concern all over, clutching their pet-humans beside them even closer.

even when the marching footsteps of the of the alien soldiers surrounded the stage and the jumbotrons brodcasted his win to the masses, a crazy smile stayed plastered on his face. cause all he could see was your shocked tearstained face finally looking towards him.

a mad laugh left him as the soliders apprehended him with a strong headslam against the cold bloodstained stage, his vision went spinning and slowly going black as his grinning lips mouthed a simple one word.

"overdose."

[comingdownwithme]

CW: Mentions and discussions of intrusive thoughts, details of said intrusive thoughts

also not beta read and it's 6 am at the time of posting so–

"Tobes," Jeff said as he exhaled smoke, blue eyes averted to the cigarette fixed between his fingers, "D'ya think I'm a, uh, bad person..?"

"Huh?"

Toby blinked and stopped chewing his nail.

"Uhm, wh- what?"

"D'ya think I'm a bad person," Jeff repeats, louder, clearer this time, as he fidgets with his cigarette.

Toby let his words sink in, processing them, before he turned just slightly to watch the other teen from the corner of his eye. Jeff's hand over his shoulder squeezed faintly at the slight movement, an unconscious reaction under Toby's watchful gaze.

"Whu- Why...?" He asked.

"Jus' gimme a yes or no, Tob–"

"No. N- now t- t- tell me why."

Jeff pressed his lips close.

Neither boy said anything for a long moment. There was only the faint cacophony of the street life below them, melding together with the distant chirp of birds that flew over their small, suburban town.

Twenty minutes. That's all they've got left until the bell signaling the end of their lunch period rang. Then it'll be three or so hours until the two would see each other again with Liu in tow for their commute home.

So, as he brought the cigarette to his lips, Jeff decided it'd be best to just rip the bandaid off now than to let it worsen and fester later.

This isn't the first time he's been this vulnerable to Toby anyways, having felt as if he had pulled his ribcage apart to expose his damned soul under his careful eyes, nor did he think this would be the last.

This is just the first time the thought had actually scared him enough to think that maybe– maybe this was the last straw, the line he'd cross that would lead to the loss of his very lifeline.

Jeff inhaled, warmth filled his lungs.

He held that breath.

Then, he exhaled.

And he smelled smoke.

"I..." Jeff glanced up, meeting his best friend's dark eyes, before his gaze flickered down to his feet. "I've been thinkin'..."

"Damn, di- didn't know you–" Toby cracked his neck, "you c- could."

He couldn't help it, and Jeff let slip a snort. "Shuddup,"

Toby rolled his eyes before he elbowed him.

"Yeah, yeah, gettin' on with it," He huffed. "I've just... Sometimes these... thoughts come up."

"Th- thoughts?" Toby raised a brow.

"Bad ones, yeah..." Jeff explained.

Toby hummed, contemplative. "Like...?"

Jeff stared down at his cigarette, watching as smoke slowly rose from the burning end.

"I- I won't make fu- fun of y- y- you, if that's what you're think- thinking."

"Nah," Jeff blew a heavy breath, the scent of nicotine lingering on his tongue. "That's not what I've thought 'bout..."

"What i- is it then?"

"I've thought about hurtin' you."

Jeff let the confession settle between them, and he occupied his free hand by rolling the cigarette between his fingers.

He doesn't meet Toby's eyes when he continues.

"Hurtin' Liu too," He says, "An' mama, daddy... myself...

"I- I uh,"

Jeff's mouth hung open briefly as he tried to organise his thoughts, formulate his words in a way that won't cause his best friend- his only friend- to run off. He knew it was an uphill battle, but before he knew it, words spilled free from his tongue, desperate to pull the suffocating weight of guilt that's been festering, rotting inside him, off of his chest.

"When daddy took me huntin'– you weren't 'round here then, I was eight– I helped him hunt squirrels, had to hold 'em.

"He gave me one, a- an' I held it's limp lil' body in my lil' hands..."

The long, pale fingers that rested over Toby's shoulder flexed involuntary, squeezing the other boy's shoulder.

"I- It was..." Jeff paused, and he pulled in a shuddering breath. "I... I wanted ta crush it's head, hear it's skull crack open in my palms, feel the shards poke outta it's skin, and–"

"B- But did you do it?"

Jeff blinked.

Slowly, he turned to face the shorter teen, and after what felt like an entire lifetime, blue eyes finally met brown.

"Wha–"

"D- did you do it," He asked again, firmer this time.

"Fuck no! I wouldn't–"

"And w- would you hurt m- m- me? How about Liu? Your mo- mom? Dad?"

Jeff pressed his lips into a thin line.

An eye twitched before Toby simply raised a brow in response.

"I..." Jeff sighed. "N... No,"

"Then there's noth- nothing t- t- to worry abou- about."

"Tobes, I just told you I've thought about hurtin' you."

"And I knew you si- since I was– what? T- t- ten?" Toby broke his gaze and huffed out a laugh. "Jeff, you're not gonna hu- hurt me."

Jeff studied his best friend's face with furrowed brows as Toby's words settled between them. Despite the weight of Jeff's confession and the uneasiness even he felt at the mere thought alone, as the gentle brush of an afternoon wind ruffled brunette locks over his freckled cheeks, Toby met Jeff's gaze from the corner of his eyes and smiled.

"You're..." Jeff's mouth hung open briefly, eyes flickering to the floor. "Toby, you're so fuckin' weird."

"Yeah, yeah, sh- shut up, you've alr– already t- t- told me before." He huffed, leaning back against Jeff's arms over his shoulder, "Now q- quit the sad sh- shit. You're not a– a bad per- person, alright?"

"I'm..." Jeff sucked in a shuddering breath and held it. "I'm not... a bad person."

"See?" Toby's smile split into a full grin this time, revealing bucked teeth. "N- Now c'mon, I've guh- gotta keep telling you about how much o- of a piece of- piece of shit R- Richardson was e- earlier."

Jeff rolled his eyes, and as his own lips curved upwards into a small, unconscious smile, he held the shorter teen just a bit closer to his side, his cigarette forgotten between his own two fingers.

"Alright, what'd he do now?"

It was as if nothing happened. Toby still talked as if Jeff hadn't just admitted to thinking about hurting him. Hell, he shut it down quick and made him admit- accept that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as bad of a person as he had first thought.

He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that Toby's words were only a bandage over an infected wound, that those thoughts aren't going to come up any less or get any better, any less disturbing. But with how he had talked- how he had believed in what he said so easily and with such nonchalance, even Jeff was swayed, willing to forgive even himself for even daring to think about hurting someone good, hurting someone like Toby.

It was just the two of them on that roof that one, cool afternoon, chattering away as the sounds of the surrounding town blurred around them. Jeff had never felt this light, not for as long as he could remember, and as he revelled in the easy flow of their conversation, unburdened by the guilt that would usually taint these small moments, he wanted to hold this one close.

A time where he bore his damned and accursed soul, and how a weird, freckled teen accepted him, all of him.

It was just the two of them on that roof.

Jeff, Toby,

And smoke.

He could still smell it.

It wrapped around his throat, clogging his lungs.

Jeff watched the burning visage of his own home, transfixed from it's front walkway. It illuminated the surrounding streets in a warm glow amidst the dark backdrop of night, and his skin burned with an unrepentant itch, nerves still alight as raw muscle and reddened skin were exposed to the cool evening air.

Whatever dragged itself out of the Woods' home- out of hell, wasn't Jeffery Woods. No, he wouldn't consider himself that, not anymore.

Whatever was left of that troubled teen died in the fires of that house alongside his parents, leaving the charred, burned remains of a deep, primal anger in disfigured, human flesh to watch as the place he once called home steadily burned in it's funeral pyre.

He knew who did this.

And as he pulled himself up, the small movement forcing a sharp gasp from his damaged throat, Jeff knew now for a fact that he wasn't a good person as he moved down the street towards three, distinct houses, fueled by an adrenaline and an anger that burned brighter than the flames he's limping away from.

May God save his soul.

And may his best friend- wherever he is- forgive him for what he's about to do

[minniesmutt]

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐬

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: HAN X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: HOGWARTS(? IT’S MORE OF A COLLEGE THAN JUST HOW IT ORIGINALLY WAS. I JUST WANTED THE HOUSES)!AU, IDIOTS TO LOVERS, READER IS IN SLYTHERIN, HAND KINK, FINGERING, CLIT PLAY, PUBLIC SETTING, TEASING, UNPROTECTED SEX, BOOB PLAY, PULL OUT METHOD, PET NAMES (BABY) ☾ ━━━ WC: 4.2K ☾ ━━━ repost from old blog ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     Han Jisung was annoying to Y/n. His personality, his little pranks around campus, how he challenged everything she said, and his good looks. The last part she hated the most. Since their year hit puberty, Jisung was one of the guys people from every house tried asking out or had a crush on. She, unfortunately, was no better. But she refused to let it fester.

     “If you keep staring at him, he’s gonna find out you like him,” Seungmin scared her out of her thoughts.

     “Don’t sneak up on me like that,” Y/n scolded him and punched his shoulder.

     “I’m just saying,” He chuckled and rubbed his shoulder, “You should stop reading all those enemies to love books in the library. It’s starting to influence your love life.”

     “You’re just trying to get hit today,” Y/n challenged him.

     Jisung watched the two’s interaction from across the courtyard. He had been listening to Minho and Chan talk till he caught a glimpse of Y/n over the yard. Now playfully arguing with her housemate.

     “Jisung!” Minho yelled at him.

     “Yeah?!” He answered, scared

     “What do you think?” His friend asked

     “No, yeah. Totally,” Jisung tried to sound like he was paying attention but Minho and Chan both knew better.

     “Alright. I’ll ask Y/n out after class then,” He deadpanned his friend

     “Huh?!”

     “He’s not asking Y/n out, relax,” Chan reassured him, “Just trying to get your attention for this weekend.”

     “What’s this weekend?” Jisung asked, eyes still on Y/n as he watched her and Seungmin walk away.

     “Hogsmeade…” Chan reminded him

     “What about it?”

     “If you weren’t busy daydreaming, you would know,” Minho retorted.

     “Ji, what do we do every Hogsmeade visit?”

     “Oh! Pub! Got it!” Jisung remembered, “I’ve got to get to class. Later.”

     Jisung bolted up and grabbed his things and quickly left the two.

     “His next one is with Y/n, isn’t it?” Chan asked

     “Yep.” Minho popped the ‘p’ and the two sighed. Opting to go to their classes.

     Jisung spent the majority of his class with Y/n stealing glances at her. Both of them sat in the back so he found it easy to look across the room and see her concentrating on the lesson. Not aware she was doing the same thing. 

     Every class, he tried to work up his courage to ask her out but she was always out the door before he could. Y/n had caught his glances a few times and did not want to find out what they were about at the end of the day so she’d left as quick as she could. Didn’t help they shared all their classes. So even though she wanted to see him, she didn’t at the same time. 

     Jisung just had to wait another time and would complain to his friends during the weekend. 

     “Why don’t you just send her a letter?” Hyunjin suggested when Jisung brought up his problem. 

     “Yeah. Then you don’t have to do it face-to-face,” Changbin agreed

     “Yes, get rejected over mail.” Jisung said, “Chan, you guys are in the same house.”

     “And I have zero clue about what she says about you,” Chan added

     Jisung laid his head on the table. Chan patted his back to reassure him it’d be okay. Minho eyes drifting towards the door. “Felix probably knows,” he said, seeing the blond walk in with the girl they were talking about and their two other friends— Seungmin and Jeongin.

     “Okay, but he’s always at quidditch practice so how am I—” Jisung had to stop midsentance when he lifted his head and saw the group. 

     “Well,” Minho instigated

     Jisung just slid down in their booth. Hoping not to be spotted, just for Changbin to kick his shin. “Owe!”

     “Sit up!” Changbin said

     “Don’t fight,” Chan reminded as they watched the group take a table on the side of the room.

     “Well,” Minho said

     “Someone cast an invisibility spell and go over there,” Jisung said

     “You need a charm for that,” Chan stated

     “Just rip the bandaid off and tell her you like her,” Hyunjin argued

     “It’s not that easy!” Jisung exclaimed

     “You haven’t tried,” Hyunjin argued

     “Min, where are you going?” Chan asked as the second oldest was getting up

     “Refill,” Minho said, holding up his empty glass.

     “Get me some more too,” Changbin said, holding his almost empty glass up.

     Minho rolled his eyes but agreed anyway. Walking up to the bar and ordering two more drinks. Not his full intention, but he needed an excuse. He felt the need to give his friend a push, even if it meant pissing him up a little bit. 

     Y/n had gotten up from her friend group and gone to the bathroom. Coming out and accidentally bumping into Minho. The male quickly grabbed her to stabilize her before she fell back, even if she wasn’t going to.

     “Sorry Minho. I wasn’t paying attention,” Y/n apologized as she took a step back.

     “It’s okay,” Minho smiled “Got a lot on your mind, you look out of it.”

     “Kind of,” Y/n shrugged

     “Wanna talk about it over a drink?” He offered

     “Maybe another time? I’m here with friends,” Y/n suggested

     “How about next weekend?” 

     Y/n blinked at him for a minute, “Sure,” she finally answered

     “It’s a date then,” Minho smiled as his drinks were handed to him and he walked away. 

     Y/n watched him walk back to his table, handing a drink to Changbin, and noticed the group. Chan, Hyunjin, Changbin, and Jisung.

     Y/n didn’t know how to feel about the last staring at her as she just went back to her friend group.

     “That took a while,” Jeongin commented as she sat in their booth.

     “Accidently bumped into Minho,” she sighed, “He asked me on a date. I think?”

     “Huh?!” Felix exclaimed.

     “It can’t be a coincidence we were talking about your crush then his best friend asked you on a date,” Seungmin laughed

     “It might be,” Y/n defended, “They’re on the other side of the room, there’s no way they heard us.”

     “Either way, I still think you should stop avoiding Jisung and give him a chance,” Felix brought the conversation back to their previous one— her crush on Jisung that she refused to talk about.

     “Nope,” Y/n said

     “Y/n,” Felix sighed

     “You know he’s probably got a crush on you too,” Jeongin said

     “No way,” Y/n denied

     “Now that you mention it—” Felix started

     “No! Don’t mention it,” Y/n interrupted

     “I did notice him staring at you the other day in the courtyard,” Seungmin said.

     “This is not what I wanted to come here for,” Y/n groaned, hanging her head low and covering her ears.

     “The sooner you admit it the sooner it stops,” Jeongin said next to her, pulling a hand away from her ear.

     “Lix,” Y/n whined, looking at the Hufflepuff for support.

     “They have a point,” he shrugged

     “I hate you all,” Y/n groaned

     She absolutely hated how right the three were. She crashed onto her bed as soon as she and Seungmin made it back to the Slytherin dorms. The male followed her up to check in on her. 

     “Hey,” he said, sitting next to her, “We didn't mean to push you back there.”

     “I know, just doubt he returns my feelings,” Y/n groaned, “Feels like I'm just getting my hopes up.”

     “Maybe stop looking away from him when you think he's about to catch you staring and you’ll see what the rest of us see,” Seungmin patted her back before getting off the bed and leaving the dorm room. 

     “Min,” Jisung whined for the umpteenth time, trying to coax his friend into telling him what he had talked to his crush about 

     “We just caught up a bit after she bumped into me,” Minho answered. The same answer he had been giving Jisung since they got back to the Gryffindor dorms. 

     “She didn’t say anything about me?” Jisung questioned 

     “No. You didn’t come up in conversation,” yet.

     “Promise?” 

     “Yeah.” Minho agreed. Getting the boy off his back for now. 

     Didn’t stop him from asking the rest of the week. In between his staring at the girl in question. Getting caught a few times during their lectures by her which ended in a couple of odd staring contests till she rolled her pretty eyes and turned back to the lesson. 

     Jisung laid his head down in defeat and picked himself back up when they were dismissed. 

     “Where’s Min?” Jisung asked as the four out of five in their group slid into their normal booth. 

     “Said he had a date,” Hyunjin answered 

     The group shrugged and let it go. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Minho to go on a date. Their chatter continued as they caught up on classes and their other activities. Specifically the quidditch match at the end of next week. Gryffindor vs Slytherin. This meant Chan playing against Changbin and Minho, which the group always found fun to watch. 

     “No way,” Hyunjin said out of the blue, making the other three look where he was looking. 

     Seeing their friend walk in with Y/n before the two made their way to the opposite end of the room. 

     “I thought he was joking about asking her out,” Chan said in disbelief 

     “Since when has he ever joked about doing something like that?” Changbin asked, “I understand why he did. It is Y/n.”

     “Not helping,” Chan said, motioning to Jisung, still staring at the two. 

     “Stop staring,” Hyunjin said, turning the boy’s attention to the group. 

     “We’ll ask him what it was about later. Just relax for now,” Chan said

     The four did wait it out, not very long thankfully. It was an hour and a half of sneaking peeks at the table before the two got up and Y/n left the pub and Minho joined them.

     “How was your date?” Changbin smirked

     “Eh, not a date. Mostly gave her an ear to vent a problem too.” Minho shrugged and took a seat

     “Would you like to share with the class?” Hyunjin said, leaning forward.

     “She’s got a crush,” Minho said

     “Who?” Jisung asked

     “Didn’t say. Just talked about her issue with it and her friends trying to convince her to talk to him.     “What house?” Jisung asked

     “Didn’t say. He’s not in Slytherin.”

     “Are you gonna fight the guy?” Changbin asked

     “Yes,” Jisung said without hesitation.

     The four looked at each other before just letting it go, at least until Jisung left the table.

     “Are they two blind idiots in love with each other?” Changbin asked

     “A hundred percent,” Minho confirmed

     Jisung spent all week trying to figure out who he was going to fight. Anyone without the black and green robe was under his suspicion. The only ones he had ruled out were Felix and Jeongin. 

     “Are we not addressing Jisung just sticking way closer than usual?” Jeongin asked as the four sat in the courtyard

     “I ignore it,” Y/n shrugged

     “Until he’s not looking at you,” Felix remarked

     “Then she’s daydreaming,” Seungmin smirked, making a kissy face at her to tease her

     “Stop it,” Y/n said, almost hitting him with her divination textbook, the boy effectively dodging it.

     “At this point, it’s going to be Seungmin that exposes your crush,” Jeongin said

     “If she didn’t tell Minho on their date,” Seungmin retorted

     “Why would I tell him? They’re friends.”

     The clock tower rang, signaling the hour. The four got up to head to class and Jisung headed to his own class as well. Potions, one of the many he had with Y/n. Luck managed to be on his side today as their teacher paired everyone up— pairing him and Y/n up.

     Letting everyone get to their stations before further explaining the mixture of the day. Jisung barely paid attention, looking towards the professor but mostly looking at her.

     “Jisung,” Y/n snapped him out of his trance, snapping her fingers at him

     “Huh?” He asked

     “Were you paying attention?” She asked

     “Partially…?”

     Y/n rolled her eyes, “Can you go grab the ingredients?” She asked, showing him the list from her textbook

     “Yeah,” He nodded, grabbing his own and flipping to the page. Getting up to grab what they needed. 

     Y/n let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She should get an award for acting like catching him staring at her didn't affect her. Until Jeongin walked by her table. She forgot for a moment she had him in this class too. 

     The Ravenclaw said nothing. Just gave her a knowing look. Y/n glared at him before Jisung came back to their station. Basket of ingredients in hand. 

     Y/n regained her composure and the two got to work. At least she did. Jisung helped here and there but mostly watched her. Watching every little move; rolling up her sleeves, rereading a step before she did it to make sure she was doing it right to how she tucked her hair behind her ears. The tips of them slightly tinted

     “You feel okay?” he asked 

     “Huh?” she turned to look at him. Confused and cheeks tinted slightly as well. 

     “You feel okay? You look flushed.”

     ‘You would too if you could feel your crush staring at you as you work,’ she thought, “Fine. Just a little warm.”

     “Let me do some of the work. You can read off the instructions,” Jisung offered

     Y/n didn't have time to respond before he took over. Y/n cleared her throat and read him the instructions from the textbook. Trying not to look at him for too long. Even if she couldn't help herself side-eyeing him a bit— eyes lingering a little too long on his hands. 

     ‘I wonder how they would feel in—”

     “Y/n,” Jisung snapped her out of her thoughts. 

     “Sorry,” Y/n said, ignoring whatever he was going to say, and gave him the next instruction. 

     Y/n walked him through finishing the potion. Calling their professor over to check their work. Gladly passed the two of them and had them write a report before they were dismissed. Y/n all but booked her way out of the classroom before Jisung or god forbid Jeongin said anything. 

     Booking it down the hall to the library. Thankful she had a free period and could calm down a bit in the library, study for classes. Hiding as far as she could from thd door and diving into her textbooks, cautiously peering up at the door every so often. 

     Twenty minutes into her studying, she had barely any clue Jisung was a few tables away from her. Pretending to study. It wasn’t till she set her quill down to stretch that she locked eyes with the Gryffindor. 

     Both refused to look away until Jisung looked down, rubbing the back of his neck. Y/n looked back at her book and picked up her quill. Resting her forehead in her hand, her attempt at not looking at him. 

     Jisung originally did come to try and study but now was completely distracted. Keeping his eyes on Y/n as she worked. 

     ‘How can she be so hot while studying?’ Jisung thought. 

     He wasn’t getting any work done, that was for sure. He should pack up and leave but he didn’t feel like it. Rather he leaned back and mentally beat himself up. Maybe he should confess. Just get it off his chest, handle the rejection. Maybe not face to face though. His eyes landed on his textbook. Portal spell. 

     Y/n managed to lose herself in her studies again until she felt a poke on her thigh. She jumped a bit before looking under the table, moving her leg to the side. Looking at the small portal, a hand sticking out with a piece of paper. Jisung’s hand.

     Y/n looked up at him and he just smiled at her. Y/n glared at him before grabbing the folded paper from his hand. 

     ‘I’m sorry for staring in class and just now. I know you find me annoying but I’ve had the biggest crush on you for years now’

     Y/n looked up at him, finding the boy blushing. Judging by how warm her face was, she probably was too. She shifted in the chair a bit and accidentally brushed her thigh against his hand. His hand was warm and it made her shiver a bit. 

     Jisung looked up and watched her reaction. He ran his hand along her thigh again. Hearing a small moan come from the portal he had made under his table and watched her cover her mouth with a fist. 

     “Heard that,” he whispered and watched her eyes go wide, “Feel good?”

     Y/n nodded and tried composing here again. 

     “Can make you feel better. Just gotta spread those pretty legs.”

     “We're in the library, are you crazy?” Y/n whispered 

     “For you.”

     Y/n glared at him from her table. “It's your fault if we're caught.”

     Jisung smiled as he looked down and watched her thighs part. He was impressed with how he managed to open the portal in perfect view of her pussy.

     Y/n scooted her chair in a bit and slouched a bit, giving him a bit of better access as she tried to look like she was still working. Jisung moved his hand forward and ran two fingers up and down her clothed pussy. Not missing the building wet spot he felt, especially when he added a bit more pressure on her clit. 

     Y/n gripped her quill tighter, trying not to focus too much on Jisung playing with her pussy. But it was getting harder as he was moving her panties to the side. Y/n glanced around the area. No one else was in the back with them. She set her quill down, pulled the fabric down her legs and caught Jisung's wide eyes. She slipped the fabric off her feet and sat back. 

     “Let me hold them,” Jisung whispered 

     “What?!”

     “I’ll give the back. Or do you want someone to see you holding them?”

     Y/n handed him the fabric and watched his hand retract from the portal before reappearing. His hand disappeared under her skirt and she could feel the hands she’d been staring at last period. 

     Two of his fingers ran through her wet folds as his thumb slowly circled her clit. Jisung watched her cover up her moans and bury her nose in her textbook. Jisung pressed a little bit more on her clit and dipped the tips of his fingers into her hole. Watching as her head dipped down and she bit her lip. 

     “I’ve barely done anything to you and you look like you’re about to cum,” Jisung chuckled, curling his fingers up into her, “Saw you looking at my hands in class. Get turned on thinking about them inside you?”

     “Yes,” Y/n whined 

     “Can have ‘em whenever you want, baby. Just got to ask.”

     Y/n covered her mouth again and glanced between her book and him. Mind focused on his fingers and the damn near primal look in his eyes. ‘Fuck that’s hot’ 

     Her walls clenched around his fingers. Thumb picked up its pace and brought her closer to her release. Slowly grinding against him as best she could. 

     “‘M close,” Y/n whined 

     “Yeah? Gonna cum on my fingers?” Jisung teased

     “Mhmm.”

     Jisung brought her closer and closer before he pulled away from her. Y/n quickly looked up at him, catching his smirk before he looked down.

     “Look at that pretty pussy,” Jisung’s voice came through the portal. Watching her twitch in her seat. 

     “Jisung,” Y/n whined, suddenly feeling a bit shy under his gaze

     “Can’t wait to taste it.” Jisung’s fingers were in her again and picked up right where he left off— same pace and all. 

     She didn’t know how long Jisung sat and edged her. Every time she was about to cum he would take it away from her. The torture only stopped when the library door opened. Jisung pulled his fingers out of her and closed the small portal. 

     Eyes didn’t leave hers as he licked his fingers clean. Y/n sat up and quickly packed her things before making her way over to his table. Jisung watched her walk over and slowly packed his things. “Come on,” Y/n said. 

     “Where?” Jisung smirked as he stood and grabbed his bag

     “Please, just follow me.” Y/n grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the door 

     “Wait,” Jisung said as he tugged her into him

     “What?”

     “Be my girlfriend?”

     “After you just fingered me through a portal for how long?” Y/n smiled, grabbing his tie and pulling his lips to hers. Enjoying the way he moaned helplessly against her lips in contrast to the confidence he had moments ago. 

     Jisung pulled her closer before she pulled away, “That’s a yes, right?” He confirmed

     “Yes, idiot. I’ve had a crush on you for a while too,” Y/n said

     “Really?!” he said a bit too loud 

     Y/n shushed him before dragging him out of the library.

     “I was who you liked?” He asked as they got into the hallway.

     “Were you trying to figure out who I liked?” Y/n asked him, almost dragging him down the halls

     “Maybe…”

     “Why?”

     “Wasn’t going to fight them to impress you.”

     “Guess you’re fighting yourself,” Y/n smiled

     “I’ll win,” Jisung smiled as they made their way down the hallways, down to the basement.

     “I know Chan’s brought me into the Slytherin house before but I don’t think it’s going to go well if you bring me into your dorm,” Jisung said

     “It’s why we’re not going to my dorm,” Y/n smirked as she dragged him further into the dungeons.

     Jisung— confused— followed till she pulled him into an old cell, setting her bag down and pulling him back into a kiss. Jisung dropped his bag and happily returned it with the same intense vigor she had as he pushed her toward the closet wall. Y/n moaned as he pressed her flush against the wall. His hands slipped under her skirt and held her hips.

     “Think we should skip the quidditch match this weekend,” Jisung mumbled against her lips as she pushed his house robe off his shoulders.

     “Yeah? And do what?” Y/n asked as he moved his lips onto her neck

     “Have our own match, in bed,” Jisung smirked, moving one hand to loosen her ties and unbutton her shirt a bit 

     “You better start round one right now,” Y/n told him

     “Don’t want me to edge you again?” 

     “Please Ji,” Y/n whined as his hands gripped her ass

     “Fuck you sound so good.”

     Jisung took his hands off her ass and unbuckled his belt and pants. Y/n smiled as his dick was free from the confines of the uniform. He lifted one of her legs and lined himself with her wet hole, all thanks to his teasing in the library. He was glad he hadn’t given her her underwear back either.

     Slowly he pushed into her, listening to her moans right next to his ear as her walls parted for him. He pushed her top and vest up over her chest. Y/n shuddered as the  cold air of the dungeon hit her skin. Quickly warmed up by Jisung’s lips while he bottomed out. 

     “Fuck, feel so good wrapped around me,” Jisung groaned, taking a moment to collect himself before he came to early. He was painfully hard from the library too. 

     Y/n tangled her fingers in his hair as he busied himself kissing her boobs. Moving the fabric of her bra down to get more of her. Y/n whined, getting impatient with him staying still inside her as he wrapped his lips around her nipple. “Move Ji.”

     Jisung groaned in response and slowly pulled out and thrusted back into her. Y/n gripped his roots and bit her lip, trying to stop her moans from echoing off the walls. 

     “Fuck,” Y/n whined 

     “Still sensitive from the library?” Jisung teased, one hand moving between them so his thumb could rub her abused clit again. 

     “Yes,” Y/n moaned and clenched around him. 

     “Shit,” Jisung whined. Circling her clit faster just to feel her clench around him again. 

     Y/n tilted her head back against the brick wall. Feeling her high coming on quickly. Stomach tightening with each thrust and circle on her clit. Walls clamped around him till she finally got her long awaited release. Walls pulsing around him as she shook from her high. 

     Jisung followed not too far behind. The pulsing of her walls sent him over the edge. Quickly pulling out once he felt himself about to cum, pumping himself a few times till his load shot onto the wall behind them. Resting his head in her neck as they caught their breath, coming down from their highs.

     “Were you really going to fight someone for me?” Y/n asked

     “Yeah,” Jisung said, lifting his head

     “Don’t think I could of been in love with anyone else, especially after hearing that,” Y/n smiled and pulled him back to her lips.

     Jisung let her leg down as he wrapped his arms around her, returning the kiss. “Skip the match with me then?” He asked

     “Don’t want to watch your house lose to mine?” Y/n joked

     “Think it’s the other way around baby.”

     “Guess we’ll just have to skip and fight about it on our own.”

     “Yeah we will.”

☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR

☾ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback

© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[lesbojournals]

Poly!Marauders x Slytherin!Reader

part one two four five

The answer is, the feeling didn’t go away. In fact, it festered and grew larger with every passing day.

It didn’t help that Sirius Black had it out now to tease you, especially pointing out in Potions that “You’d be far better off sharing the table with us, sweetheart. You really want to work with Snivilus?”

To which you rolled your eyes and apologized to your housemate, that you honestly didn’t even get along with that much. You would be having a better time in Potions with Sirius, Remus, and James.

Without even realizing it, the boys were slowly starting to become “the boys”, and not Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and James Potter. They were starting to feel like they were more than that.

You left the library that day with a heavy load of books in your hands, struggling to keep them steady as they towered over your vision. You heard footsteps approaching (much faster than your slow steady ones) and came to a halt. 

Deep brown eyes popped over the stack of books and looked down at you.

“Love, let me take those. Here.” With ease, James took your stack of books from your arms as if they weighed nothing. 

“To the dungeons?” He asked, gentle smile on his face.

You nodded, trying desperately (and failing) not to blush at how handsome he looked, and how charming it was for him to take the books, and-

“Wait, James, I can take them. I got it.” You insisted, and this time it was James who came to a stop.

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Are you sure? I really don’t mind the walk-”

“Dolly!” Sirius exclaimed from behind, and you internally groaned. 

Having all of the boys around was nice, you enjoyed it. You enjoyed it a little too much. The feeling has your heart in a chokehold, and with each second more you spend with the boys it feels like it’s going to explode. 

You turned around. “If it isn’t Mr. Black. Oh, and Remus!”

Sirius put his hand up to his chest in fake hurt. “Why does he get the bashful, ‘oh, and Remus!’ while I’m stuck with ‘Mr. Black’.”

You didn’t have an answer for him, so you stuck out your tongue.

Remus shook his head, then looking between you and James. “Where are we headed? Dungeons? I know Jamie’s not picking up any extra reading with Quidditch.”

James took this as initiative to start walking. “Yep. Can you believe lovie tried to take all of these books herself?”

Sirius put an arm around you as you walked. “When will you learn that Jamie’s the muscle, dolly. Take advantage of it.”

You tried not to squeal at Sirius’ touch. He kept his arm around you as you walked. 

When you made it to the dungeons (with Sirius’ arm still around you) the boys turned to you. There was silence for a few seconds.

“Wanna meet us for dinner later, sweets?” James hesitantly passed the books over to you.

“Of course she does,” Sirius answered for you, taking Remus’ hand in his. “See you in the Great Hall dolly!”

Before you could respond, they walked away, Remus sending you a sheepish wave as Sirius began to talk to James.

You entered the common room slowly, already missing having James to hold your books. 

“You’ve been hanging out with those idiot Gryffindors a lot lately.” Lucius commented from his spot on the couch next to Narcissa. 

“I think it’s nice.” Narcissa defended you, and gave you a small smile.

“I think Junior was right about them being your new boyfriends.” Severus sneered from his spot across from Narcissa and Lucius.

You sighed, your books wobbling in your hands. “Can we stop commenting on them? And they’re not my boyfriends.”

Narcissa jumped to help you as your books wobbled more, and Severus rolled his eyes at you. “Whatever.”

In the dormitory, Narcissa helped you organize your books by your nightstand. You groaned and fell back onto your bed, loosening your green tie. 

“Something wrong?” Narcissa hummed, and didn’t take her eyes off the books.

You covered your face with your hands and grumbled. “I’m going to sit at the Gryffindor table for dinner.”

That brought Narcissa to turn to you with wide eyes. “Really?”

You turned your head away and groaned again. You didn’t want to talk about it–but the boys were consuming your every thought. You hated to admit that you were excited about sitting with the Gryffindors at their table. Narcissa didn’t ask anymore questions, eventually leaving you to stir in your emotions as the clock ticked closer to dinner.

At dinner time, you groaned loudly once again. Time to get up. You dragged your feet out of the dorm and out of the common room, opting to ignore the comments of your fellow housemates. 

At the Great Hall, you made eye contact with Regulus, who stared at you in horror as you walked away from the Slytherin table and towards the Gryffindor table.

“Hey!” James waved at you with elation, and a small smile grew on your face.

Sirius leaned back from beside James and smiled wide. “Darling! Come sit next to Rem.”

You glanced at Remus who had a welcoming aura about him. He scooted over so you’d have more room to sit, looking down at the spot and then back up at you.

You put your bag down and sat down next to Remus. “Yeah, sure.” 

[hellisharchive]

・﹒・ comatose dreams [1]

Summary: After suffering from a fatal car crash, you had become comatose and had no hope of waking up anytime soon. You didn't know that, however, you thought you had died. After finding yourself in Hell, you wind up landing a job with Vox as your boss. You both fall quickly and deeply, but true love doesn't always work out.

Warnings: 18+, mentions of sex, masturbation, slight StaticMoth,

Notes: This fanfic is inspired by this lovely post by @timeslugarts! I would suggest reading it for a full summary, however if you want to go in blind, then don't!

﹒Stepping Stones﹒

An entire year working for VoxTech, what was your job, you ask? Well, you started out as a simple camera operator, then worked your way up to personal assistant, and you've had a crush on the television man for a good year now. Unfortunately, Vox always seemed so out of reach, so out of your league, you never even tried to even flirt with him and hoping he'd notice. He was an Overlord, one of the Vees, you were probably seen as nothing to him. Which hurt to think about, but was true nonetheless. So, you worked and went through your days with all your feelings festering inside you, ready to burst.

"Vox, you have a meeting with Vel and Val at three pm today to discuss potential strategies with Alastor returning, would you like to cancel?" You watched him as he adjusted his bowtie, ensuring that his outfit was perfect as always. He also had a tendency to cancel his meetings, but to the chagrin of his partners since he arrengaed them in the first place, but you still forced him to attend at least some.

"No, I know if I don't they'll be on my ass about it later" Turning from the mirror, he looked at you with a bored expression before putting on one of his smiles that you thought would be fake, but it was genuine. From working with him, you've learned to identify what smiles are real and ones that aren't.

"What? Do you really want to be alone with me THAT badly?" His smile then moved to a smirk, causing you get flustered and fumble with the tablet you were holding. Shit. Was that the first time he flirted with you? Vox chuckled as you regained your bearings, clearing your throat, you tried to remain professional.

"Well no sir, I was just uh, caught off guard by your uh...assumption" You coughed as he started to walk out of the room, knowing you'll diligently follow, and you did. You shut the door behind you and followed him as he made his way to his head of operations. He didn't tell you where he was going, but you knew his route every single day, that is- if he does, you'll still follow him wherever he went. You'll always be loyal to him and him only.

"Well, let's hope I don't have to calm Valentino down again today after yesterday..." He scowled just thinking about it. Yesterday, Val had yet again another temper tantrum and you watched as your boss did his thing. It was something you've grown accustomed to with your time as the tv man's personal assistant, they both fucked with no strings attached. Sure, they weren't together, but it still squandered you telling the truth about your feelings even further.

"Hopefully not, sir" You spoke as he entered his main control room, where he could spy on everyone and everything. He mainly has been monitoring the hotel and Alastor, even when the Radio Demon was gone for seven years, he never stopped bringing him up. The deer Overlord has only been back for a few months and he was the only thing Vox brought up for entire days sometimes. You didn't mind it though, it was pretty entertaining to witness. Sitting down in his chair, you grabbed yours and sat next to him as he observed everyone, trying to find Alastor roaming around. He checked the hotel first but couldn't find him with his scope of range. Time passes as he does his daily checking and observing, replying to emails, and the like. You busy yourself with checking his schedules and any business opportunities. You didn't realize that he stopped speaking until his sudden voice breaking the silence startled you.

"Do you think he'll ever take me seriously?" He spoke oddly quiet, his usual self gone as you swore you heard the faintest crackle in his voice. Looking up from your tablet, you saw that his head was down, looking at his lap with his hands fiddling each other as a sign of nerves. Sighing, you stood up and walked in front of him. Gently setting your hand on his shoulder, it caused him to look up with a face similar to a sad puppy. Smiling softly, with your other free hand, you placed it on his other shoulder.

"I know one day he will, sir. Trust me, you'll beat him and be the strongest overlord in Hell" You almost said "with me by your side" but refrained, knowing it was best not to mention that at all to him. This was about cheering him up, not entertaining your stupid fantasies. But, you saw as a digital blush faintly appear on his screen made your heart leap. You? A measly assistant managed to make THE Vox blush? You two were entranced, the feeling of leaning closer overwhelmed you as you both slowly inched closer and closer. What were you doing? You both were about six inches apart as he placed a hand over yours, now smiling devilishly as he chuckled.

"Of course I will, I just need someone by my side to do it" Did he...? You didn't have to fully process what he meant by that as you saw Vox's screen change to an incoming call with a ring. The moment ended as you cleared your throat and pulled away, taking your hands off his shoulders like they became fire. Of course- Valentino.

"Are you fucking-" He scowled as he transmitted the video call to one of his many screens, showing a very scandalously clad moth lounging on his bed, smoking and turning the screen into red before dissipating.

"Hey Voxy~ I need a fuck and I need it now. Angel Dust won't return my calls" Now, you weren't the biggest fan of Valentino, despite Vox also not being the best. But even as a sinner, you still did not agree with how that man treated others, especially his main star. Hearing the fact that he was demanding sex from your boss made your blood boil, yet you remained calm and neutral.

"Not now Val, find one of your other whores to fuck, I'm not in the mood" He didn't try to hide is displeasure as he held a very pissed off face staring at the pimp. Usually Vox never denied having sex with Valentino, so the sudden anger surpised you. Valentino just sighed, leaning closer to the camera. You weren't sure if he could see you, you hoped he didn't.

"You aren't fucking anyone else, right baby?" The question gave you whiplash despite not being the receiver. The moth sounded innocuous when you knew very well he manipulated Vox along with others. You knew his game.

"Fuck off Val" The tv Overlord than hung up, growling as he pushed out of his chair and started to walk towards the middle of the room. Following him, he headed back into the rest of the tower and back to his room. Before you could step in, he stood in the doorway, preventing your access.

"Don't bother me, do whatever the fuck you want for the next few hours, I don't care" and just like that, he slammed the door in your face. What the hell just happened? Taking a deep breath in, you mull over what you could possibly do when you decide to just take a walk. You needed some time outside the tower every once a while, so a walk would be perfect. Not wanting to head out in your work attire, you head to your room which was right next to Vox's (easier to be his assistant with you so close) and change. As you walked by your boss' door, you heard him panting and immediately flushed, walking away quickly as it felt wrong to hear him masturbate. You did walk in on him one time by pure accident and even to to this day he still teases you over it and makes fun of you. As you passed by, you could have sworn you heard him moan out your name, but he couldn't have. Right? Your ears were just playing tricks on you. Rushing past, opting to ignore it entirely, you went on your walk.

[makethatelevenrings]

Day 1: Orgasm Denial w/ Jason Todd

all works in my kinktober series are 18+. you talk a lot about boundaries in life, let's see if y'all can respect this one.

Kinktober Masterlist

The wood of the chair creaked under you as you strained against the silk that trapped you in place. It was Italian silk, of course. Luxurious and delicate and smooth against your skin. Jason hated seeing any mark on your skin other than the ones he left. The first time he tried ropes and metal handcuffs, he refused to touch you until the abrasions on your skin healed.

You shifted again, your breath coming out shaky. Plush fabric covered the back of the chair so your skin didn’t scrape against the wood. Sweat clung to your skin and you shivered when a cool breath brushed against your neck.

“I thought I made myself clear,” he spoke softly with a bite hidden under the words. Long, thick fingers slid under your jaw and forced your chin up. You met Jason’s gaze and swallowed against the pressure on your neck. His anger was present in his eyes.

Yeah, you had fucked up.

It wasn’t the injury that you sustained at work that was the problem. It wasn’t the fading bruise on your cheek that brought that fury in his eyes. It was the fact that you had tried to hide it from him with concealer.

That, Jason Todd decided, was absolutely unacceptable. He wanted to know every bump, bruise, and papercut so he could care for you the same way that you cared for him.

“I know. I know,” you whispered. His thumb stroked delicately over the bruise that was in its last stages of healing. It barely appeared on your skin, but of course he caught it.

“Accident or not, I need to know when you’re hurt,” he murmured. “You know why, right?”

Because he is terrified that a wound will fester and take you from him. Jason Todd is scared of few things and losing you is the fear that keeps him awake at night.

“Tell me, sweetheart,” he whispered against your skin. You shivered as bumps rose along your skin at both his order and his presence. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips and then you exhaled a long, shaky breath.

“Because I’m yours,” you said in one quick burst. He hummed, his hand drifting down to brush against your pebbled nipple.

“You are, but that’s not why. It’s because I need to know you’re safe, angel. Or I’ll crush the hand of whoever hurt you. No one hurts my angel.”

God, your cunt pulsed at his words and a moan caught in your throat. Seriously, this injury had been an accident between you and a filing cabinet, but you hadn’t wanted to worry Jason. But when he caught the yellow base of the concealer on your cheek and wiped it off, you knew you made the wrong choice. The look of pure devastation in his eyes, despite your hurried assurances of your safety, made your stomach churn.

Jason needed to see your skin unblemished by anything other than him because he couldn’t ever risk losing you.

This moment right here was your punishment for your omission. You knew it was coming and you accepted it. Your relationship balanced between the two of you for control and right now, Jason tipped the scales in his favor.

“How long do you think you can hold on, angel?”

“I…I don’t know.”

He chuckled, low and dark and so much like Red Hood and not like Jason that it made you want to squeeze his stupid fucking head between your thighs until he was pussy drunk. He traced a line down your neck and then bent down to suck a dark bruise against your collarbone.

“I think…an hour will do. What do you think?”

An hour. Fuck. Holy fucking shit. Could you? You had done it before for ten, maybe fifteen minutes. An hour?

It made you nearly drool with want.

Jason grabbed your chin once more and forced your head up so his eyes were locked with yours. “What do you say if you want to stop?”

You shook your head against the fuzzy softening around your mind and instead focused on answering. “Magpie.”

“And if you can’t speak?”

“Tap three times.”

“Good. Remember, sweetheart, I’m doing this for your own good.”

His fingers slid between the folds of your cunt and he began to rub small circles against the bundle of nerves that sent warmth curling through your stomach. You squirmed, both at the feeling and also at the anticipation. At what point would you become a brainless, babbling slut begging to come?

“I miss you when you’re not beside me,” he continued to speak as he dipped a finger into your tight hole and then groaned in appreciation. “Wet already? Poor thing, you’ve got a while to wait.”

“Won’t be too hard if you keep going at this pace,” you grunted.

Of course, your big mouth had to push his buttons. Jason grinned, shark-like and brilliant, and his hands pulled away from your body. You wanted to whine at the loss of his touch. You wanted to chase after the calloused fingers that always drove you to pleasure, but these fucking bonds were keeping you trapped.

And then you heard the familiar whirr of a vibrator click on.

“That won’t last an hour,” you blurted, your breath picking up just a little at the thought of him pressing that toy against your clit as you spasmed and thrashed and begged.

“Good thing I charged three of them. Now, remember angel, you can’t come until I tell you.”

He spread the lips of your pussy and pressed the vibrator, set on low, torturous waves, against your clit. “And that won’t be for a while. Let’s see how many settings we can go through until you’ve apologized enough.”

[3amfanfiction]

It's Just Dinner pt 3

John needs another date and Kyle is very convincing. MDNI cw: gazlighting, manipulation, forced prostitution 2.8k First || Previous

Thankfully the next few weeks pass quietly. There's no surprise dates, no uncomfortable conversations. Just you and Kyle, like it used to be.

You're tentatively relaxing into the rhythm when the next bombshell goes off.

Kyle's running around, getting ready to head to base early in the morning, talking to you over his shoulder when you hear, "Price has an opera he needs to see with one of the brass this weekend and he needs a date. I told him you were free," finishing with his shoes he grabs a jacket, coming over to give you a dirty kiss complete with a healthy grasp of your ass. "We'll go shopping when I get back," —assured, nonchalant, just another day.

No. No! You're not doing this again!

"Kyle! You can't just volunteer me—"

"Bye, babe!" echos through the entryway as the door slams shut.

Conversation over.

///

You fumed for hours. How dare he? How DARE he? Did he think you were a child he could make decisions for? Absolutely not.

You were ready for him now.

You'd spent all day preparing and when Kyle got home tonight you were going to sit him down and you were going to be firm. You weren't going to let him talk over you, you were going to stand your ground tell him you wouldn't be going on any more dinner dates with John Price.

Simple.

But as with any battle plan, it only lasted through the first encounter.

"Why are you acting like this?" Kyle frowned, not understanding. You crossed your arms defensively where you were standing in the bedroom, having followed him in when he got home. Why did you feel defensive?

You watched him pause, holding his t shirt in one hand as he looked over to you, head tilted in confusion. "You said you'd go, I already told him you agreed." He stepped towards you, dropping his shirt back in the drawer before stopping a short distance away, "you can't back out now babe, he's already booked the reservations."

Stop. Take a breath. You're not going to lose your temper.

"I never said I'd go, Kyle."

"Yes you did!" he insisted, eyes wide in disbelief, rolling right over your moment of breathing, "I was standing next to the kitchen table this morning—putting on my shoes—and you said yes."

He took a small step, bridging the distance between the two of you.

"Are you feeling okay, love?" his concerned voice made annoyed pinpricks creep up your spine. "You've been awful stressed lately. Is something going on at work? Anything you want to talk about?"

For one moment you imagined dumping it all on his shoulders, hysterically yelling, I'm pretty sure your boss tried to kiss me! to see what he would do with the information.

Kyle lifted his hands to cup your face, rubbing your noses together gently before you could do anything hasty. "We're partners . . . you know I've always got you, right?"

And just like that, the annoyance dissipated.

"I know, Kyle. That isn't what this is about," you reassured, leaning into his warm calloused palms, taking strength from his presence. "I just don't want to go to an opera this weekend."

You never brought up the half-kiss John had pressed to the corner of your mouth. After your bathroom pep talk you had met back up with him and he behaved himself for the rest of the night—there was no reason to worry Kyle about it.

But it still festered in the back of your mind.

His brow furrowed while he looked disappointingly at you, "Love, it would look really bad if I had to go back to my superior officer and say, 'sorry sir, she changed her mind, we can't help you.' It puts me in a bad spot when he's counting on us, on you, for the night."

His expression turned sad, "I wish you wouldn't have agreed if you had reservations about this."

Did you agree? He seems so certain, remembers it so clearly, maybe you did indicate acceptance somehow this morning, unwittingly.

"No—no I didn't agree, or at least, that's not what I meant," you capitulate, giving ground, shoulders rounding ever so slightly.

You have been stressed lately.

Maybe he's right.

He pulled away to frown down at you, "why are you so against going to dinner this time? Last time you were excited to go."

"I wasn't excited Kyle," you stammered, "I told you I wasn't sure about all this."

"No babe, you told me you were nervous," he pauses to smile at you as if you were in on a secret together, "after all Price is a handsome man and anyone would be nervous to have his full attention on them," you firmly don't think about the swoop in your stomach when he had cupped the back of your neck, the static shock that skated up your spine when his lips brushed yours, ever so slightly.

"—but then you had a great time." you focus back on what Kyle is saying, pulling your wandering mind under control, "I don't understand why you're being so skittish about this now."

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest before shuffling the both of you over to the bed. Sitting, he moved you into his lap, chest to chest so he could look into your eyes.

"Are you sure no one said or did anything?" His voice dripped with sincerity, looking for something to fix, some way to help, "You know you're my best girl, right? I wouldn't let anything happen to you."

Fuck. How do you keep messing this up? Now you're sitting here crying as Kyle promises to protect you. Should you just tell him? Get it over with, off your chest. Would that unlock the chain that was dragging you down? You wanted it to go back to how it was before.

No. You weren't a child and you didn't need to be babied. Nothing truly happened so there was nothing to tell Kyle.

But without telling him, you didn't have a valid reason for not going this time.

So you sat there in silence, unable to give ground any further. After a few moments of this, Kyle continued, tone lowered —assured, "Who's always looking out for you? Making sure that you're safe and you're happy, hmm?" he used his thumb to wipe away the tear tracks on your face.

"You," you assure quickly. This at least came easier, "but Kyle, this is—"

"Pet," stern, direct, "you're getting all twisted up in this when you don't need to be. You trust me right? You know I'm always doing whats best for us?" he holds your gaze, forehead pressed against yours, watching every flick of your eyes. "I love you more than I ever thought possible, but if you don't trust me . . . that's a hard thing to come back from, you know?"

"I do! I do trust you Kyle, I'm sorry. I don't know why I feel this way," rushed, pleading.

"I told you, even though you're my best girl, your head still gets in the way. We need to turn that pretty brain off, don't we?" He kisses you sweetly, as if you're everything he could ever want. "I've got us, baby. I wouldn't steer wrong."

Breathe.

"Okay," you give in after one more moment of resistance, tired of the pushing and pulling, the cyclical conversations, "okay, I'll go. But this is the last time, do you hear me Kyle Garrick?" You pulled back to show him your no nonsense face, "I'm not doing this again."

Kyle laughs as if you'd stomped your foot in assertion, something too cute to ever be taken seriously, "I hear you, babe. Thank you for coming around to see my side of things," he squeezes you to his chest, your face tucked into the warmth of his neck, "you're going to have a great time, you'll see."

He leans away to take you in, "How are you so wonderful? I feel like I must've saved an orphanage from a fire or something to have gotten you in my life."

Smiling at you as if he could see the universe in your eyes, "it's you and me, right sweetheart?" he questions, a child looking for benediction.

"You and me," you assure, disquiet bubbling softly in the back of your mind.

///

You saw John before he saw you.

He was standing in the foyer, looking at his phone, dressed to the nines.

His snug black suit emphasized the breadth of his shoulders, biceps bulging at the seams. His button down shirt tucked into his pants emphasized his thick waist, the muscles of his core covered by a healthy layer of fat.

His thick gold rings caught the light from above as he swiped through his phone—

Was that your living room on his screen?

The thought was derailed almost as soon as it formed due to John noticing you. He turned with a beaming smile as he locked his phone and slid it into a pocket. Holding his arms open he ushered you into a hug.

The smell of his cologne was earthy, loamy—it curled up in your nose and sunk its tendrils into your brain. How did he always smell so good?

Tensing slightly as his arms closed around you, he did no more than press a firm kiss high on your cheekbone. "You are a vision, my dear," John said in awe, pulling back slightly to take you in from head to toe. "Every time I see you, you end up more stunning. How is that possible?"

You laugh, charmed despite yourself. It's hard to keep up walls when John Price is looking at you like that, "You're too sweet, John," you demure, intending to have a good time tonight, "shall we find our seats?"

///

Several hours later, when the night was all but over while waiting for your car, you don't notice at first that John has taken a step closer. You're too distracted by the chill breeze that has sprung up, attempting to keep your skirt where it belongs.

You realize how close he had gotten when his hand comes up to brush against the skin of your jaw, fingers trailing softly as if dragging against spun gold.

Something precious. Something treasured.

You inhale shakily, unsure of where this was leading but wanting to stop. To take a step back onto stable ground.

"John—" is as far as he lets you get before his mouth covers yours, his other hand coming up to cradle your face in his palms while he devoured your mouth.

Because there was nothing timid or hesitant about this kiss. He claimed with it. His tongue pressing into your mouth at the first sign of weakness—the smallest gasp you couldn't control.

His fingers tightened against the side of your head as he groaned, angled down from above, making sure he was all you could see, all you could hear.

After what felt like years he pulled away, panting like he'd just ran a race, "Fuck me, sweetheart, but you taste even better than I'd hoped."

You stand there, eyes wide as you hold onto his wrists, one hand covering the smooth face of his watch. "You—you kissed me," you murmured, only just loud enough to be heard, "you can't kiss me, John."

He smiled as if you said something cute before pulling you back in. His lips had just brushed yours when you wrenched your head back, desperate to put space between the two of you.

"No, John," shaky but as determined as you could make it. You watch as something rises from the depths behind his eyes. A leviathan observing you, deciding where to bite first, where to grab as he pulls you into his depths, his maw closing around you . . .

Only for it to sink back below the surface, John's blue eyes clearing once more.

"Of course, of course, you're right doll, we shouldn't be doing that here." He continues talking over your spluttered here? as if you never said anything.

"There's your car anyways," the brakes squeak ever so lightly behind you, the thrum of the engine filling the night air, "you be good, sweetheart." A smile as John steps back, holding your door open for you. You climb in quickly, not wanting to spend any longer in his presence than needed.

John looms over the open doorway, forearms braced against the roof, "until next time." He winks at you before shutting the door, a soft double tap on the roof his notice to the driver.

As the car pulled away from the curb your thoughts began to spiral and you started to hyperventilate.

You had to tell Kyle now, you should've told him before but you can't go changing the past.

As soon as you get home you'll sit him down and talk to him. You'll tell him everything.

You ignore your slick thighs and the pressure of your underwear on your throbbing clit.

///

You made the car drive around the block—twice—before you worked up the courage to go inside.

Time to face the music.

"He kissed me, Kyle," you say, bracing for the explosion. You were still reeling from the evening, light tremors shaking your limbs, making your knees feel like they were knocking together.

You know you have to tell him everything, you can't keep something like this quiet. You have to lay it all out and hope he doesn't lose his mind.

Kyle froze. You watch him swallow, noticing his pupils expanding to eclipse the brown of his eyes. You hoped it wasn't in rage.

He quickly gathered himself as youlet out a broken sob and launched yourself at him, tears already streaming down your face.

You cried into his chest, latched onto him in search of strength. He pressed soft shh shh's against the top of your head, cradling you close to him, trying to coax you to breathe.

Eventually you were able to draw in a semi-steady breath without it immediately devolving into a sob and found yourself apologizing to Kyle, "I'm so sorry, I don't know why he kissed me—" breaking off into another wet hiccup.

"None of that now, you're making it a bigger deal than it needs to be," Kyle promised sternly, squeezing you tightly to him, "I know it's not your fault, you did nothing wrong." He soothes you when that causes another round of sobbing to begin.

"I'll talk to him tomorrow," he announces quietly, with a somber air, once the tears began to peter off. "It might cause some . . . friction on the task force but if it's made you this upset then I'll handle it."

Why? Why does John have to be Kyle's boss?

It made everything so complicated.

If it were anyone else, you'd be able to trust Kyle to set them straight, no concerns about consequences. But with John . . . he had control over Kyle's life. Is a kiss worth it? Is anything worth risking Kyle's life?

No.

You'd decided before that you wouldn't risk bad blood between them. You held onto that decision even now, even as things have gotten heavier, more complicated.

You bury deeper into Kyle's chest, arms wrapped as tightly as possible around him, "No, I don't want to cause trouble for you at work."

"Doll, it's no-"

"No, you were right, I'm making it a bigger deal than needed. I was just worried, that's all."

He hunched down to rest his chin on top of your head, "worried about what?" he presses.

"Just that . . . that you're saying it's okay when it's really not. I don't want you to be upset with me." Your eyes started to well up again but you blinked furiously, trying to keep the tears from falling down your cheeks.

He slips an arm free to tilt your chin up, angling your face towards his, eyes locked so you have no way of hiding from him and what he's about to say.

"I'm not upset with you and you did absolutely nothing wrong," holding your gaze, chin firmly grasped. "Do you think I care about the captain kissing you?" —amused, placating almost— "I care because you care, love," he looked down to your lips, pursed slightly from the pressure of his grip.

"Here," quiet, sensual, "I'll show you."

When he pulled you into the kiss it was warm coffee on a cold morning, it was waking up to realize you have an hour left on your alarm, it was the house lights being on when you get home at night.

It was comfort.

You chase after him slightly when he pulls away, wanting to continue. He smiled and gives you another peck. "You taste," he murmurs, lips brushing yours with every word, "utterly delicious."

You pant softly, waiting for him to press into you again. He smiles and gives another soft kiss, "chapstick and cigar smoke taste perfect from your lips."

Next

Story Repository || Main Repository

[libraryofgage]

Meddling Kids

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually

Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two | Three Harley Quinn One | Two | Three 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two Scooby Gang One (you're here!) Jedidiah and Octavius (from Night at the Museum) One | Two Queen Clarisse Renaldi One | Two | Three Leverage Crew One

From the girl that brought you that silly little Spicy Six Scooby Movie post (I've been thinking of making that post into one of those social media series things on Tumblr but imma let that cook a little longer actually lmao) is a brand new Stranger Things and Scooby Doo crossover

Anyway, we're here for good vibes and fluffy Scooby gang, so definitely don't point out any typos hfjkds

Have fun reading!

---------

People coming.

Steve freezes, looking at the possum that's scurried into the room and sidled up next to him. He takes a deep breath and forces his shoulders to relax. People have come to explore the abandoned lab before; usually, it's just older kids daring each other to stand inside for a few minutes. There's been that lady recently who likes dressing up as a weird rat-thing, but she hasn't bothered Steve or his friends. Actually, she may not even realize Steve is here.

"Is it the lady again?" he asks, his voice low as he places a hand on the possum's head. He feels its nerves flow through his palm, and it pushes its head against him, snout nuzzling against the 004 on his arm.

No. Four big ones and a beast.

Four adults and a dog, probably. Steve frowns slightly and gets up, carefully making his way across the dirty floor toward the window. He lifts the corner of the curtain and stares at the bright blue, green, and orange van parked in front of the building. Four adults are standing around with a big dog, which isn't looking too happy about being near the place. Steve can't blame it.

He slowly pushes the window open a crack, straining his ears to hear one of the adults say, "Okay, gang. Daphne, Velma, and I will look around downstairs. Shag, you and Scooby will take the second floor. We'll meet back in the lobby in an hour."

"Can't we just, like, not explore the creepy abandoned lab for once?"

Steve assumes this is the one called Shag, and he hopes the other man agrees to just leave. That would make his life so much easier. He hears the dog, Scooby, agree with the sentiment and hopes the other people can understand him, too.

Unfortunately, one of the women says, "C'mon, guys, the monster isn't real. Here, I'll give you some Scooby Snacks for the road."

And that seems to be the end of that. The man and dog accept the snacks, the people enter the building, and Steve resigns himself to hiding for however long they stick around.

He bunkers down, leaning against the wall beneath the window, and goes back to coloring the floor with markers. This entire room is covered in drawings that reach only a few feet up the wall. Steve isn't tall enough to go any higher.

Right now, he's drawing all the animals in the building. There are the ones that were there to begin with (mostly rats and rabbits) and the ones that moved in after the bad people left (possums and raccoons and cats and more rats). He doodles them marching across the floor, a relaxed smile tugging at his lips as he colors a cat purple.

He's putting the finishing touches on the final animal in the line (the very same possum that came to warn him about the people) when he hears a scream from down the hall. Steve blinks, looking up just in time to see Shag and Scooby throw open the door, slide into the room, and slam it behind them.

They lean against it, sinking to the ground, and finally notice Steve sitting against the opposite wall. "Like, Scooby, please tell me I'm imagining that kid over there," Shag says, his voice wavering and cracking near the end.

Scooby starts out looking as scared as Shag, but then he tilts his head. He hesitates for a few seconds before dropping low to the floor and slowly moving toward Steve. "Scoob, what are you doing?" Shag asks.

Not a ghost, Shaggy!

"Not a rhost, Raggy!"

Steve blinks, frowning in confusion. Scooby talked. Like, actually talked. He talked out loud and Shaggy (it makes as little sense as Shag in Steve's opinion) understood him. "There, like, can't be a kid here!"

By the time he says this, Scooby has reached Steve, looking up at him from the floor with hopeful eyes and an eagerly wagging tail. Steve holds himself back for all of two seconds before reaching out and scratching behind Scooby's ear.

The dog lights up and tries to squeeze into Steve's lap, licking his cheeks and covering him in slobber. Steve laughs, trying to evade Scooby's tongue and utterly failing. "Stop, stop!" he shouts breathlessly, still giggling even when Scooby finally gives him a break.

"Oh, man," Shaggy says, slowly moving from the door to approach Steve. When he's a few steps away, he stops and crouches. "What are you doing here, little guy?"

Steve blinks, glancing at Shaggy before turning his attention back to Scooby. He reaches up, scratching under Scooby's chin and trying to ignore his nerves about talking to another human after being alone for so long. "This is my home," he says.

Your home?

"Your rome?"

"Like, man, this is not a good home," Shaggy says, looking around at the dust and the cobwebs and the possum in the corner of the room. "Don't you have, like, parents or something?"

"Not really."

Can we keep him, Shaggy?

"Can re keep him, Raggy?" Scooby asks, his tail wagging hopefully as he looks at Shaggy over his shoulder.

"Gee, Scoob, I don't know," Shaggy says, frowning slightly as he finally sits down on the floor and hunches over. "A kid's a lotta responsibility, man. We gotta feed him and clothe him and, like, make sure he doesn't get sick."

Steve looks between the two and can't help a slight smile. Shaggy is nice, and Scooby is a dog, which automatically makes him good to Steve. He doesn't mind helping them out a little. "You're here about that lady, right?" he asks.

Lady?

"Rady?"

"Like, what do you mean lady?" Shaggy asks.

"The one dressing like a rat," Steve says, wondering how they didn't make that connection themselves. Haven't they already realized it's not a real rat-thing?

"Oh, man, I guess Velma was right," Shaggy says, a relieved laugh bubbling out of him as he slumps even more. "We gotta tell the gang, right, Scoob?"

Yeah, yeah!

"Reah, reah!"

"Are you trying to catch her?" Steve asks, looking between the two once more.

"Well, like, the rest of the gang's gonna want to."

"I can help with that," Steve offers, smiling reassuringly at the concerned looks that Shaggy and Scooby give him in return.

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

Hawkins is supposed to be a vacation. Sort of. There's a possible mystery in the town, but even Velma couldn't confirm for sure, and Daphne had encouraged them to just relax.

Steve is inclined to agree with her, especially when she buys them a house with a pool that Scooby immediately launched himself into.

Still, he can tell that Velma won't relax unless she gets a chance to look around, so he finds her to go on a grocery run. "Oh, you're right," she says when he points out the lack of food in the house. "We'd better get something before Shaggy and Scooby start chewing on the walls."

"We'll set up the bedrooms while you get groceries," Fred says, grinning at them from across the living room. He digs in his pocket and pulls out the keys to the Mystery Machine. After making sure Steve is ready, he tosses them over.

"Please just don't put me in that plaid room," Steve tells him, catching the keys and passing them to Velma.

"I think that would count as cruel and unusual punishment, Steve," Daphne calls, her voice coming from down the hall where she's no doubt started setting up her room. She pokes her head into the hall, smiles at him, and adds, "Don't worry. We'll put Shaggy and Scooby in that one."

"Knowing them, they'd like it," Velma says.

As if he was just waiting for his queue, Shaggy leans over the second-floor railing and shouts, "Dibs on the plaid room! It looks groovy!"

Steve snorts as Velma rolls her eyes with an amused smile. "Come on, Steve, let's get going."

The drive to the grocery store is quiet, with Steve paying more attention to the town around him and Velma focusing on driving. He notes anything that looks weird, like the lack of people walking around. They pass other cars, of course, but even when they drive past what could be called Downtown Hawkins, he doesn't see anyone walking around.

He tucks that away for later, seeing nothing else of note until they park near a pile of bikes at the grocery store. "They're not locked," he says, nodding to them.

"It's a small town, Steve," Velma says, unbuckling as she turns the radio down so their ears aren't blasted when they get back. "They probably don't feel the need to."

"I guess," Steve mumbles, hopping out of the van and waiting for Velma to round the front. He walks next to her and holds the door open when they reach it. "Maybe we can get sandwich stuff."

"We'll have to wipe out their entire deli section," Velma says, sighing as she grabs a cart and pushes it towards the produce aisle. "At least we never have to worry about food waste."

Steve hums in agreement, easily falling into their normal routine of Velma calling out items and him grabbing at least five of them if there's enough in stock. "What do you think about that mystery?" he asks, placing a bag of apples in the cart.

"I think that forest out there is prime real estate," she replies, leaning on the cart's push bar. "Get a watermelon, too, Steve. Anyway, demon dogs aren't the weirdest we've run across."

"They were demodogs. Not demon dogs."

"I still think that was just a typo. Either way, I'm sure we can walk around the forest later and, you know, learn what the squirrels have seen."

Steve crinkles his nose, glancing at her as they make their way towards the deli. "You know the squirrels are too flighty. We're better off with the raccoons. Or, like, the sparrows."

He looks over to see her smirking and realizes she was just teasing him. Steve huffs and grabs as many sandwich meats as he can, getting everything but ham since Velma can't eat it and it gives Daphne migraines.

"Well, whichever animals you interrogate, I'm sure they'll clear up this mystery in no time."

Steve hums in agreement, follows Velma into the cereal aisle, and is about to say they should consider focusing on field mice when a voice from the other side of the shelf says, "Dude, spray cheese isn't gonna help us against the demodogs."

He blinks, pauses, and looks at Velma. She tilts her head, holds a finger up to her lips, and waves off the smirk he gives her at being right about demodogs not being a typo. "Yeah, I know," another voice says, followed by the clatter of grabbing a few cans, "but I want Cheez-Whiz."

"That stuff is gross," a girl's voice says, her tone flat in a way that Steve almost recognizes. He frowns slightly, tilting his head as he silently places a few cereal boxes in the cart. "It tastes fake."

"That's the point, El."

"Shouldn't we focus on lighters and hairspray?"

"I mean, this is technically a spray, right?"

Steve glances at Velma, raising an eyebrow before gesturing to the end of the aisle. She nods once and starts pushing the cart in that direction, huffing in amusement when Steve drops in a few more boxes along the way. "You'd think we're feeding an army," she says, tone dry.

"We might as well be," Steve replies, feelings his shoulders relax at the routine exchange.

They round the corner to see three kids down the aisle, two boys and one girl. One of the boys has curly hair and a baseball cap while the other is wearing a basketball jersey, and the girl has short hair that falls to her shoulders. They're all looking at the shelf, but the girl glances over when Velma and Steve enter the aisle.

She meets Steve's eyes, and he wonders if he's met her before. Her eyes narrow slightly, more in confusion than anything else, and her gaze travels down. He feels it on his arm as she lands on the 004, and her eyes widen as she steps away from the shelf.

Steve glances down at her arm in turn, sees the 011, and feels like his breath has been punched out of him. "Eleven," he whispers.

Next to him, Velma shifts closer, placing a hand on Steve's shoulder. "I'm here," she says, her voice low and more reassuring than she'll ever know.

"Four," Eleven says, walking up to him without another glance at her companions. "Are you here to hurt me or my friends?"

Steve blinks. "What?"

"Are you violent? Kali, Eight, was violent. And angry. Are you angry?"

As she talks, the two boys move to flank her, looking between Steve and Velma with something between suspicion and confusion. "Is this one of your siblings, El?" Basketball Jersey asks.

"Yes. Four. He was...transferred a year before the Upside Down. Four, these are my friends Dustin and Lucas"

"I go by Steve now. And, uh, no, not violent. We're grocery shopping," Steve says, awkwardly gesturing to their cart.

"Steve? You can name yourself and you choose Steve?" Dustin asks.

Steve blinks and frowns. "I didn't name myself. I asked the smartest rat I knew to name me."

The two boys blink as El nods in understanding. "The rat chose well," she says.

"Dude, how many people are you feeding?" Lucas asks, seeming to finally notice the shopping cart.

"Well, one of them is a Great Dane," Velma says. "Hello, El. I'm Velma, one of Steve's...guardians, I suppose. How would you like to come by for dinner? El and Steve can catch up, and you can tell us about those demodogs you mentioned."

"Were you spying on us?" Lucas asks.

"You weren't exactly being quiet," Velma tells them.

Before Lucas or Dustin can start arguing, El cuts them off, "We will come by for dinner. I am glad we met again, Steve."

"Yeah. Me, too," Steve replies, smiling at El and wondering if they'll have to explain how Scooby can talk.

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