#ask yourself if one of the male characters in a similar situation would do the same

[justreckin]

it irks me how fandom tends to take "the things that happen offscreen", aka the writing inconsistencies that the viewer/reader has to fill in themselves because the writers forgot/didn't have the time/it didn't fit, and reflect them poorly on the women in the story.

just... check your biases, please?

[calumfmu]

i'll see you when you get here

You're perfect. There's nothing wrong with you, and he's still single, still stuck in the same town that you left to pursue a better life. You should've been happier than you were, finally glad that you got out of the rut he seemed to be stuck in. But you couldn't help to wonder what your life might've been with him by your side.

ex-boyfriend!Steve Harrington x AFAB!reader | 7.1k + words

cw: smut, p in v, fingering, oral, sweet but rough (?) sex idk, porn with plot, imposter syndrome, mentions of loss of virginity, AFAB reader, angst (what's new), og fictional male character, swearing, 18+, mdni

You belong here.

It's what you keep telling yourself. What you have been telling yourself for the past few years, in every situation or encounter you found yourself in. Oddly enough, it eased the tension in your shoulders, calmed the nerves that always seemed to build up whenever you realized you were so, so far from what you tried to convince yourself.

"-okay?"

Blinking away your thoughts, you felt a hand tighten its grip on your own. Glancing down at it, you were met with the sight of his hand grasped into yours, skin smooth, moisturized, well-groomed finger nails. Someone who had access to money, resources all his life, you could tell. There was a softness to it that couldn't be described.

"Huh?"

It fell from your lips before you could even register the noise properly, chastising yourself at the improper sound. Blush began to tint your cheeks as your date quirked his eyebrow, a similar sound to your own escaping his lips to mock you.

"Huh?" He teased, lightly brushing your cheek with his free hand. You subconsciously tilted your head away from it, his eyebrow dipping as he noticed the movement. "I asked if you were okay. You seem... a little lost."

"I just—yeah." You squeezed his hand instead of fully answering, urging him to lead you through the throngs of people. Nodding, you put on your best smile, moving through the motions.

He couldn't be someone to confide in, at least, with your idea of what was wrong. Because honestly, there was nothing wrong. The man in front of you was Tomas Windsor, heir to the fortune of one of the richest families in your college town. He was beautiful, smart, kind, a gentleman in every aspect of the word, everything that you should've wanted to date at this time in your life. He was marriage material, the type of man you knew that you had to settle down with no matter what age you had found him at. Any girl would have died at the opportunity to be in the same room as him, let alone asked out by him on a third date (third!).

You were three weeks away from graduating summa cum laude, had a paid internship for a multinational corporation, and living in a swanky apartment well beyond your means. He fit perfectly into the mold of your life, a perfect soon-to-be-boyfriend-turned-husband who you couldn't find anything wrong with.

He had taken you to a party in the city, blocks away from your place, yet still so unfamiliar to you due to the crowd. A high rise apartment, some of the richest people you could think of in one room. He was to introduce you to a few "important people", who you had later learned were the adult children of important people. Connections were connections, and networking was going to get you places, you had to keep telling yourself that.

Seven different names that sounded like variations of each other later, that same anxiety began to bubble in your chest, feeling like it was eating away at you.

Gripping his arm, you gave him a tight squeeze. Tomas' blue eyes cut to yours, crinkled with a smile as he laughed at a joke thrown to him by one of his friends—Jake or maybe it was Brandon, you weren't quite sure at this point.

"Hey, I think I may head—step out for a second," you stuttered, feeling the urge to bail on all plans right now.

A small frown crossed his face momentarily before he covered it up.

"Do you want me to come with y-"

"No! No! Please-" You choked out an awkward laugh as his friends suddenly looked at you, the loud outburst somehow sounding out of place at the noisy party. "Enjoy your friends—I'll b-be right back."

You scurried away before you could even process his reaction to it, hot tears stinging the corners of your eyes as you searched for any type of refuge. The palms of your hands slapped into your cheeks as you batted the falling trails away.

Shoulders crashed into yours, a few splashes of whatever kind of alcohol sprayed your arms, shoes stepping over your own as you made your way through the crowd. You felt like an animal with the way your head snapped over the sound of a sliding glass door closing, a primal urge to seek shelter.

"Excuse m—Oh, I'm sorry!" You whispered, placing your hand on the backs of the girls you were trying to squeeze by. You had stepped on one of their boots, kitten heel digging into the toe.

She had recognized you, her face lighting up after a grimace of pain.

"It's me!" She exclaimed, teeth wide and white as she smiled at you. Your eyes were blank. "Ash!" Nothing. "Ash McCoy! From last year's sisterhood retreat?"

Your eyebrow quirked, your own smile mimicking hers, eyes crinkled uncomfortably as your feet slowly moved towards the sliding glass doors. Faking it was something that you had grown used to during the past few years, in every aspect of your life.

"Oh my goodness, Ash!" You reached a hand towards her, waving your fingers in the air as the gap between you increased. You were almost at home base. "Did you do something with your hair?"

She beamed, nodding as she didn't realize how far you actually were from her. Her finger twirled a strand of her locks.

"I went to Sam's girl! She did low lig-"

"You know what, Ash, I'll text you!" You laughed a little, hand finally finding the handle of the door as she nodded, shooting you a thumbs up before becoming distracted with another person who had crossed her path. With a slight roll of your eyes, you pushed the door open and slammed it behind you as you exited.

The cool heat of the night air hit you in the face first, wind wisping up a rosy colour on your face as you tilted your head back. There wasn't a breath deep enough to take in the moment, ears and eyes burning with thoughts of how much you felt you didn't belong here. You leaned over the balcony railing slightly, taking a deep breath that seemed to get caught in your throat.

It wasn't like you this was your first party or first time going on a date or hell, even talking to someone. You couldn't tell what was wrong, but you knew something was. Everything felt off, your clothes too big on you, necklaces too tight, English a language foreign on your tongue.

The balcony you stood on was huge, still scary nonetheless. You had to be at least 60 stories up, the people and cars below you seeming so small. It was the type of view that made you realize just how big the world is, how none of this really mattered.

"You look like you could use a cigarette."

A voice called out to you, a hint of a laugh behind it. You pressed the palms of your hand to your eyes, the pressure causing stars before you turned to the stranger, ready to let the facade slip to tell him to fuck off.

The smile is what stopped you in your tracks.

Hands falling by your sides, you watched as his gaze dropped, smile immediately fading as recognition struck you both.

"Steve?"

"Is that really you?" His voice sounded small as he kicked himself off of the wall, fingers reaching to grab the cigarette that hung between his lips.

Before you knew it, your feet were inching closer to him, a wide eyed gaze set on him.

You could see the watery glaze of his hazel eyes as you came face to face with him, only inches between you. At this distance, that familiar scent of his cologne hit you, memories of the adolescent versions of yourselves flooding your mind. His face was still freckled, lips still rosy pink, boyish charm wafting off of him.

You couldn't find the words to speak, wanting nothing more than to close the gap between you two, fingers itching to lace themselves in his hair, tangle between the fabric of his clothes. Somehow, you found them.

"What are you doing here?" The crack in your voice would've been unnoticeable to anyone else.

"Oh, you know, loitering on stranger's properties. The usual," he quipped, confidence flooding back into him. If you were anyone else, you would've believed his faux confidence, but you saw the twitch in his eye, the slight shake of his fingers as he raised the cigarette to his lips again.

"Steve Harrington," you joked. His smile widened. "Prodigy. A legacy many only dream of becoming."

He shook his head, a slight roll of his eyes as he pulled you into a hug, his chest nearly smothering you with the grip he had. Eyes fluttering close, you breathed in his scent, cedar and cinnamon.

His head was thrown back into a laugh, long expanse of his throat highlighted in the sunlight. A pencil was tucked behind his ear, holding the few strands of hair that didn't fall over his eyes. The hazel orbs were perfectly framed, time slowing down in the moment as flecks of pollen floated in the air around you two, glimmer in the summer light. He was a part of a movie scene, straight out of a catalogue, an endless amount of happiness surrounding him as he stared you down.

For a second, you felt at home.

The summer air around you suddenly felt cold as he let you go, hands lingering on your shoulders before falling to his sides.

"Where-what have you been—you're graduating soon!"

He seemed to remember something in that moment, tapping his coat pockets before pulling out a battered down carton of Virginia Slims. He pulled one out, placing it in his lips besides the already lit one before raising a lighter to it.

Shaking your head, you remembered the same antics five years earlier. He handed the fresh one off to you, lit and smoking into the air. It felt foreign, yet familiar in your fingers, like seeing the first photograph of a memory you always replay to yourself.

You hesitated as you slowly brought it to your lips, breathing in a heavy waft of thick smoke, choking you.

He threw his signature smile, fucking giggled at your coughs.

"Wooww, look what we have here," he shook his head, watching as your face turned crimson. "Years ago, you would've smoked me under the table. You're out here coughing like a dweeb."

A blush covered your cheeks.

"Well, we can't all stay the same people."

A slight uncomfortable silence filled the air between you as he nodded slowly, eyeing you down as he breathed in a long drag. His gaze felt heavy on you, burning with every trace they made over your skin.

"You do look different."

Suddenly, you felt under and over dressed at the same time. Your stupid, pressed cigarette pants, idiotic grey fucking cashmere sweater with gold buttons, tennis bracelets adorning your wrists, an expensive ass handbag that had been gifted to you by your sorority president. Who the fuck were you? Why couldn't you recognize yourself in front of him?

Your hand instinctively shot out to press down a crease in your sweater while the other lifted the cigarette again to your mouth, the drag much easier this time around. You felt the smoke ease a wave of anxiety all while tension began to rise in your shoulders.

There were two sides of you fighting each other, yet working in sync.

Steve's stare became too much.

"I could say the same about you," you sarcastically laughed, your own eyes running over him.

He was the same. But he was so, so different.

He had swapped the bright, striped shirts and khakis for something a little more form fitting. White fitted tee that clung to his chest in a way you don't recall seeing before, a brown canvas jacket hanging over his frame, dark jeans that shouldn't have fit him that tight, in all the right places.

His face had matured, suiting him better than you could've imagined. Facial hair dusted over his face, jawline sharper than ever, hair still wild, but tamed enough to show how much of an adult he had become.

"You look... good," you whispered, finally fully grinning at him. It was the same grin that you used to give him whenever you remembered just how much you loved him.

He recognized that.

Stepping closer to you, his free hand shot up to rest on your upper arm.

Silence filled the air yet again. Comfortable, yet full.

"Where've you been?"

The words of the same sentence left both of your mouths at the same exact time, your eyes searching his for an answer you both weren't quite sure of. After all these years, you two were still in sync, still thinking of the same things at the same time.

The heaviness of the air crept between you two.

As he opened his mouth to say something, you heard the sliding glass door open a few feet away from you two. The loudness of the party inside blared out suddenly, interrupting the moment you shared.

You stepped away from him like you had been burned, eyes widening with a faux persona appearing, smile wide like it hurt. Your fingers tightening their grip on the purse in your hands. You pretended like you didn't notice the way Steve was looking at you, his hand falling to his side as he stepped away from you.

"Tomas!"

Your date smiled at you softly, ignoring the man that stood beside you.

"Are you feeling better?" He questioned, stepping towards you.

His smile dropped, brow crinkling as he noticed the lit cigarette in your hand. Your eyes followed his gaze, dropping it immediately before stubbing it out with your heeled shoe. Taking a step closer to him, you ignored the low whistle that left Steve's mouth, followed by a sarcastic scoff.

Party foul, you both knew this. The only way to put out a cigarette was by smoking all of it.

"I, uhhh...."

You turned to glance at Steve, noticing the way his eyes hung low, focused on the tip of his boot as he puffed away. Smoke billowed around him, clouds filling the air before being drifted away by the small gusts of winds. The balcony light combined with the shine of the moon allowed you to see more of the matured side of him, years of catching up owed between you two.

You glanced back towards Tomas, seeing his expectant look.

"I think we’re going to head out now."

He turned towards inside the penthouse once more, hand on the outside of the building as he expected you to follow him. His words hung in the air between the two of you. A perfectly shaped eyebrow quirked in your direction, his dress shoe tapping once, twice on the tiling.

You glanced back at Steve, seeing his back turned towards the two of you. He was checked out of the interaction at this point, focused on the view of the city skyline in front of him as he neared the end of his cigarette.

Tomas called to you once more, urging you to follow his lead.

Anxiety pooled in your chest.

"I'm going to stay."

What the fuck were you doing?

"What?" Tomas and Steve's voices blended together in disbelief. Blue eyes darted to meet hazel for the first time, both men not realizing what was transpiring.

Steve had a slight smirk on his face, puzzled, yet proud at the same time. Tomas, on the other hand, looked slightly disgusted, surprised by this version of you, even if he really didn’t know you that well. Maybe you didn’t know yourself too well either.

Change your mind.

You gulped, blinking hard as you took a step back. "This is my... old friend from my hometown. I would like to catch up."

Every sentence out of your mouth sounded rehearsed. Badly rehearsed. Too formal, yet too casual at the same time. The persona you had built up during the last few years felt like it was crumbling all at once. And for what? You said all of six words to your childhood boyfriend you hadn’t seen since the summer after graduation?

Tomas' posture straightened up, suddenly sizing up Steve as his attention shifted. Steve didn't look at him once, staring you down as he tried to figure out what you were doing.

It had been years since you had last spoken to him, but he knew that this lifestyle had been what you were shooting for since the day you turned 9 years old. There wasn't anything that could deter you from that. Except maybe one thing—one person.

"Your.. hometown?"

There was a hint of something in his voice, something that made your skin crawl. The same tone that had been directed towards you your entire life. A tone that Steve would understand.

It was like he had read your mind, stepping forward while he flicked his cigarette over the edge of the balcony, the same hand extending towards a hand shake.

"Nice to meet you. Steve."

His smile was smug, an outward show of confidence you had witnessed him try to perfect in his teen years. He had somehow done it, standing taller and more proud than the heir in front of you. It was then you had realized Steve was exactly who he thought he was.

Tomas eyed his hand, reluctantly taking it in a firm grasp.

"Tomas."

There was a small laugh that left Steve's mouth, "Toe- mas? Thomas wasn't good enough for you?"

A thin line pressed into your date's mouth. You can see the flicker of irritation behind his blue eyes, something so unfamiliar to his perfect face.

"Just Tomas is fine."

Steve hummed, shrugging as he quirked an eyebrow. He turned around to face you again, shooting you a face that made you bite back a smile. You avoided eye contact with him, knowing it would take just one more look to get you to crack. He still remained the same world class idiot, always wanting to joke around at the most inconvenient times.

What were you doing?

"Are you sure you don't want to...?" Tomas' voice had trailed off. You felt like an idiot, just standing there.

You heard the scuff of Steve's boots behind you, a metronome in your mind that tethered you to the moment. Remaining silent, you shrugged slightly, not quite sure what to say.

"I guess I'll just... text you then," Tomas muttered, slightly banging his fist on the wall before he turned inside. He lingered in the door for a moment, waiting to hear you call back out to him. When you didn’t, he continued, disappearing into the crowd.

The sliding door was left cracked open behind him, shouting and music from inside spilling out.

Steve was smirking at you as you turned around to face him, his hands tucked into his jean pockets. The canvas jacket he had complimented him well, bringing out the bronze undertones of his skin. It reminded you of an Indiana summer you missed so much, nothing quite like the feeling of home.

"So do you want to get out of here or what?"

He looked up at your apartment building, a long, low whistle in his throat as he slowly guided his eyes up the 15-story building.

"Nice place here, Einstein," he joked, wiggling his eyebrows. He followed you as you got out your key card, opening the door.

Holding it open for him, you rolled your eyes, ushering him inside. You had to push him through the lobby and corridors to the elevator, his jaw dropped in faux mockery as he took in the building. He spun in several circles as you walked through, pointing out the vases that littered the lobby and expensive looking paintings.

It wasn't that nice, you had to tell yourself.

You felt embarrassed by the place, feeling suddenly like you stuck out like a sore thumb. You didn’t belong here.

You tried hiding the floor button you pressed, frame attempting to block his view from it. The elevator was silent as it rose, a small hum of the mechanics along with the pleasant sound of an orchestra coming from the speakers.

"Twelfth floor?!" Another whistle. "I've a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore."

"Steve."

He laughed at you, hand finding the small of your back as you lead him down the hall and inside of your place. Butterflies filled your stomach, your mind resorting to the teenage version of yourself at the familiarity of his touch.

As you made your way inside hurriedly, you slipped off your shoes at the entrance, throwing your purse down at the table.

Your fingers were shaking as you went into the fridge. Water? Coffee? Wine? Does he even drink still? Would he be hungry? God, you were such an idiot, were you over thinking it? Deciding between the filtered water container and a canned seltzer, you turned to face him, eyes focused on the labeling.

“Do you want mo-”

You cut yourself off, finally noticing the way he was looking at you. He leaned over the small island, head propped up on his elbow, eyebrows raised into his hairline, a fond look in his eyes.

Growing self conscious, you took a few steps towards the counter, placing the drinks down.

“What?”

Steve hummed, blinking languidly at you while his smile softened.

“Nothing, I just—,” he spoke, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “You’ve done good, kid.”

Warmness filled your chest, and you were consumed by this overwhelming sense of home. Something you hadn’t felt in years. Since you left Hawkins. Sure you’ve found your friends here since being in college, spoke to your parents enough to not be homesick (well—whenever they weren’t concerned with your siblings), but it was nothing compared to the feeling that Steve had brought you.

You didn't know what to say in that moment besides offering the beverages to him. He opted in for the water, and you silently kicked yourself, realizing that you were an idiot for even offering him the alcohol.

He called your name, pulling you out of your thoughts.

"Yeah?"

"Stop it," his eyebrow quirked with his words, a stern, but loving look on his face.

A warm flush crossed your face as you stood across from him, fully dressed, yet feeling exposed.

"You don't even know what I was thinking!" Your mouth fell open in a laugh, bringing your hands up to cover your face briefly.

"I do, babe," that nickname had your heart skipping, a deeper flush crossing your features.

Steve stood up, walking around the counter to stand beside you. He leaned against it, hand stretched out. His height towered over you, the waft of his cologne flooding your senses. To distract yourself, you hopped on the counter, nearly next to eye level with him.

"You might be in this nice place," he started, fingers trailing over the marble counter as he took a swift look around. "You may be hundreds of miles away from Hawkins, a college degree away from me, but you're still the same person, babe. I know you."

Huffing, you couldn't help, but agree with him. If there was anyone that knew you better than yourself, it was him.

Years apart couldn't have taken that from you, especially when there was years of history to support your relationship.

He had been a part of your life since you two were in the 3rd grade, way before time had separated you.

"I feel like I don't know you," you finally replied, blinking up at him. His eyes trailed over your face, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "How were you there? Why were you there?"

"I told you," he laughed. "Loitering, it's my favorite pastime."

You cackled, rolling your eyes at him.

"Steve."

"Okay, fine, fine." He leaned slightly closer to you, frame almost fully in front of you. "I was meeting a friend."

You rose an eyebrow, leaning back at his words.

"A friend?"

He hummed, tilting his head side to side as he debated answering truthfully, "A... girl."

Why the fuck did that sting? You literally had been on a date. That same date had a conversation with Steve.

"Oh?" You feigned interest, a wide smile on your face. "And who might this girl be?"

He rolled his eyes slightly, grimacing as he looked towards the ceiling. His body has moved closer to yours, hips squared in front of your knees. This was the closest he had been to you in years, and you never wanted him to move.

"This... girl. We met in the city, a night at the only cool dive there," he muttered, shaking his head as he laughed at the memory. Your cheeks hurt as you continued to fake your smile. "She seemed cool."

"Aannd... what happened to her?"

He hesitated, staring you in the eyes with a serious expression on his face. You had thought he zoned out for a second before he cleared his throat, shaking his head.

"She never showed."

You felt sorry for him and guilty at the same time. Grateful that she hadn't showed because you could have him for yourself, yet so, so remorseful over the feeling that might've caused.

"Oh my goodness, Steve. I'm so sorry," you reached out a hand to soothe him. He captured it in his own, fingers rubbing against yours as he looked down at it.

Your hand seemed so small in his, your manicured fingers contrasting his working ones.

"It's okay, babe," he smiled at you, bringing your hand up to kiss it. His voice dropped to a whisper. "Her loss... right?"

Nodding, you didn't know what to say. It was her loss. She was crazy for not showing up for this man, not realizing what she was missing. He had been the best god damn thing to happen to you, so why would she risk it?

You sat on the marble counter of the kitchen island, legs swinging. It’s not like you were trying to avoid eye contact, but you weren’t able to look him directly in the eyes.

One of his hands was tapping against your knee in rhythm with the swing of your leg, the other caging you in. You could tell he was fighting the urge to step in between your legs fully, hips finding their way in a place they used to call home.

Silence filling the air between you, it felt comfortable.

“I missed you, babe,” he whispered, hand reaching up to swipe at your jawline before finding itself back on your knee.

All you could do was barely nod before he was stepping forward, his hands flying forward to pull you to the edge of the counter. One of your legs snaked up to rest at his hip, muscle memory catering to his body.

Everything was still the same.

The taste of tobacco and mint, a soft tug of his teeth at your bottom lip, the gentle swipe of his tongue against yours.

One of your hands tangled in his hair, the other at his shoulder, attempting to push off the heavy material of his canvas jacket. He was helping you with it, leaning over your frame all while taking off his coat, lips pressed to your own.

Time had worked in both of your favors, knowing each other so well, yet experience allowing you to pleasure each other just that much more.

His coat was thrown across the floor somewhere, your hands running down the expanse of his chest. It was firmer than you remembered, muscle replacing the soft flesh that once was. His fingers found your face, creeping underneath your chin to bring your mouth fully into his.

“St-Steve,” you moaned, gasping into his mouth as once of his hands griped your side hard, pulling your hips into his.

He ground down into you, hardness behind his dark jeans rubbing against your core.

Heat flooded your body, memories of your last moments together all those years ago flooding back. You had hoped they were going to be pushed down, so far in the back of your mind, they didn’t exist anymore.

"You're going to leave me, okay?" His voice was loud in the room, cutting into the midnight hours as sheets tangled around the two of you. There had been so much love between the two of you hours before, bodies becoming one for the last time as you knew it.

Your brow crinkled in confusion as you took in his words. "Steve, what-"

"You're going to get on that plane tomorrow and leave me," There was a soft smile on his lips as he leaned up to press a kiss to your forehead. He brushed a loose strand of hair off of your face, fondly staring down at you. "You have such a big future ahead of you, babe, I would only hold you back. We both know this."

You shot up, wanting to interject. He cut you off before you could say anything. Gripping your hand and pulling you into his chest, he sighed, lips pressed into a smile.

"It's our last night together. It has to be. Let's enjoy this, and then you'll never look back." You wanted to pretend like you didn't know what he meant, but it was clear to the both of you. You did have to leave. Hawkins would only hold you back.

You pushed him off of you, thumb swiping at your bottom lip as you grew self conscious of yourself. He was confused, panting as his eyes trailed over you. Lust was written all over his face, teeth digging into his bottom lip.

It was the type of look that would’ve sent you over the edge in your teen years, but now? It just made you regret every accomplishment you had made because he hadn’t been there for it.

“Sorry—was I—was that too much?”

He stepped away from you fully, hands moving to rest at your knees.

You still avoided eye contact with him.

“I just need to be good,” you said softly, tongue swiping over your lip.

“What?”

“I need to be good, Steve,” you said it a little louder this time, finally looking into his eyes.

He tilted his head in confusion before nodding, a smug look on his face.

“Yeah, heard you the first time,” he shook his head with a scoff, turning to grab his jacket off of the floor. Your heart sunk in your chest, realizing the insinuation of your words. You didn't mean to insult him, but it was the truth. You didn't know how to be good with him, didn't know what your future might hold if he stood here with you in time.

“No!”

Jumping off the counter, you stopped him before he could move.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Steve,” you were frantic with your movements, fingers gripping his arms as he looked to the side.

Turning to look down at you, his hand reached up to smooth back the hair that had fallen in his face. He still had that look in his eye, tongue swiping over his bottom lip as he stared down at you.

Butterflies rattled you from the inside, your tongue suddenly feeling heavy.

“I don’t know what all of this means,” you admit, allowing Steve to move you back towards the counter, your backside hitting the edge of it. “After all this time, it doesn’t make sense.”

His hands touched your hips, pulling you into him. You couldn't breathe with the way he was overwhelming you. He smelled heavenly, temptation you couldn't resist.

"I still feel the same as—as I did w-"

Steve leaned down, his lips finding the side of your neck. Head tilted to the side, you closed your eyes, hand reaching up to toy with his hair. A soft moan slipped from your lips, feeling the wet hotness of his mouth against you.

"—as I did the day I left."

Your stomach turned as he pressed his lips in a trail down the side of your neck. You craned your head back so he could have better access to you.

"Ste—I can't."

"It's okay," he whispered, licking a stripe up to your ear.

The feeling had you whimpering, head thrown back even further.

"I'm going to have to leave again," you whispered, hips tilting as his fingers found their way to your waistline.

He pulled away from you, brow furrowed as he shook his head. Guilt overwhelmed you once again as you saw the look on his face.

'You're not leaving me again," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your mouth. "I finally found you again."

All you could do was nod and not say anything as he pressed his mouth to yours.

"You're mine again, babe."

Lips slotted together, your eyes fluttered shut as he slipped his hands underneath your sweater, pulling it over your head. The cool air of the room hit your skin, his hands trailing warmth wherever they touched. He pulled away from you to look at the lace bralette you wore underneath your clothing, his large hands moving to cup the material.

"You're beautiful, baby."

Before he could kiss you again, you turned away from him, hand clasped into his as you led him through the living area of your apartment. The double doors of your bedroom were thrown open, Steve pressed to your front, hands on either side of your face.

He walked you backwards to the bed, pushing you down on to it before taking off his shirt. His mole dotted skin was flushed red with arousal, skin warm as he laid on top of you.

"Fuck," you breathed, pushed up the bed as he grinded down onto you.

The material of your jeans was getting to you both, frustration evident in both of your movements as you struggled to get them off. His mouth didn't want to leave yours, a clash of lips and tongue and teeth as your hands roamed.

"God, I missed you."

He sounded breathless as he cupped your face in his hands, firm kisses to your lips. He was aggressive in his movements, pushing your face to the side as he kissed down your jawline, down your neck, and to your chest.

One of his hands had trailed down to your core, fingers brushing over your clothed cunt as you attempted to kick off your pants from your ankles.

"Ste—"

You could barely finish moaning his name before his lips had found your nipple, breast spilling out the top of your bralette. His fingers had pushed your panties to the side, finger dipping slightly into your wetness.

You couldn't remember the last time you were this turned on. Wetness was dripping out of you, pussy clenching around nothing as he teased you.

"Ste-Steve, I need more."

He muttered something around your nipple, switching to the other one as he sunk his middle finger into you. A loud moan fell from your lips, back arching as your head was thrown back into the sheets.

Leaving your chest, he kissed down your stomach, biting at the skin just to watch the small indents from his teeth form.

You painted, looking down at him, feeling the urge to cum immediately just from the sight of him. He was fucking beautiful. You couldn't believe he was yours again.

His hair had fallen completely in his eyes as he looked up to you, free hand aiding his teeth in pulling down your underwear while his other worked a long finger deep inside of you.

"Fuck—"

Your back arched again as he added his ring finger along side it, a light kiss pressed to your clit.

"Open wider, baby," he muttered, nudging your knee to the side. Immediately, your legs opened, one of your knees hooking onto his shoulder.

He smirked at you, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh.

"Good girl."

Another wave of wetness hit you as you pulsed at his words. He knew exactly what to say to get you going, validation being that one thing that always had you falling apart for him.

He looked down at you, pursing his lips as he let a trail of spit drip down from his mouth to pool at your clit. It was the filthiest thing you've seen in a while, a gasp leaving your lips as he looked up to you to make eye contact while he dipped his tongue to lick at you. His eyelids were low, nearly shut as he sucked at the small nub.

You arched your back, head thrown back against your sheets. Reaching out, you grabbed a handful of his hair.

"St-Steve, you can't—I can't— I'm not going to l-last if you do that," your speech was so muddled, nearly incoherent as you babbled.

"M'kay," he mumbled against you, diving even lower to tongue at your folds, dipping in between his fingers.

A tingle struck your spine, pleasure coursing through your body.

Steve brought his free hand around your thigh propped up on him, pulling you closer to him. The noises filling the air were sloppy, you breathing heavy, panting his name, his tongue running along you, his own moans filling the air.

"I missed this," he breathed against you, eyes squeezed shut.

All it took was one curve of his fingers inside you, and the trigger was released, blinding white pleasure coursing through you. With a whine, you came against his mouth, pulsing around his fingers, clit throbbing under the weight of his tongue.

He knew when to slow down, tongue licking at you once more before he released his grip on you. With one last kiss, he left the space between your thighs, kissing up the length of your body while you caught your breath.

"How's my girl doing?"

He asked, eye to eye with you now. He led his hands through your hair, thumb swiping against your brow bone.

Nodding, you lifted your head off the sheets, kissing him. He was biting back a smile, gripping the back of your head as he towered over you.

"Good, baby?" He asked again, urging you to nod with him. Biting your lip, you brought your hand to his stomach, trailing down slowly until you reached the waistline of his unbuttoned jeans.

Glancing down, he was hard, poking at the fabric, a dark patch at the groin.

Before you could begin pulling down his pants, he gripped at your wrist.

"Babe—we don't have to-"

Rolling your eyes, you cut him off. "Steve."

He grew serious, propping himself up while his grip slightly loosened around your wrist.

"I've waited damn near five years for this," you continued, waiting on him to let up. He only looked at you, concern written in his face. "You're mine again. Let me have you."

With a nod, he let you go, aiding you in pulling down his jeans. He kicked them off of him, off the edge of the bed before he found his place again, settled between your legs.

"Just let me know, okay?"

You nodded, raising one hand to rest of the back of his neck and the other on his arm. He propped himself up on one arm, reaching down with the other to guide himself at your entrance.

The tip of his cock nudged at you, a stretch you weren't prepared for, but had somehow been waiting for this entire time.

"Baby?"

Steve wanted to make sure you were okay one last time, and with the final nod you gave him, he pushed in. Slowly stretching you apart, you felt the puzzle pieces coming together.

With a moan, you dug your nails into his arm, manicured hand turning a few shades lighter as you felt so, so full.

As he reached the hilt, he let himself go before gripping your thigh, pushing your leg up towards your torso. The bend, the stretch, the fullness, this was the most complete you had felt in years.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, waiting for your confirmation before pulling out, a quick jolt of his hips to push back in.

You could tell he was being sloppy, holding back his own orgasm that was threatening to end this a lot sooner than you both were expecting. His thrusts were moving you up the bed, the weight of his body pressing your leg back further with each movement.

"Fuck, Steve, you're so—so deep."

He closed his eyes, groaning at your words.

"Shit, baby, you can't say shit like that."

You attempted to giggle, cut off by a moan as the tip of his cock hit your bundle of nerves deep inside of you. The hand by your hand tangled in your hair, pulling on it slightly as he gained momentum.

"You're so—" Steve leaned to bite at your jawline, nipping the skin hard enough to leave a bruise. "Such a good girl, just for me, baby."

Nodding, you felt his words bringing you closer to the edge.

"Just for you, baby."

He brought his hand to push your leg back even further, his hips picking up speed as he fucked into you. Your pussy was dripping around him, the praise going straight to your arousal. You weren't going to last much longer.

"B-babe." You whined, feeling it build inside of you.

He was close too, his hips only speeding up as his breathed heavy against your ear. He let out a whimper as you squeezed around him, eyes glued shut as you reached your peak.

"Fu—"

A strangled moan left your lips as you came around him, his cock deep inside you, pressed right up against your core. You could've sworn you blacked out for a second, pleasure blinding you as you came around to Steve cumming all over your lower body. It dripped over you, covering your cunt as he worked his length, one arm holding himself up.

Somehow, you managed to keep your eyes open to stare him down, a second wave of pleasure hitting you as you took in the sight.

With a collapse next to you, he stared at the ceiling, panting heavily.

"I think I just died," he whispered, turning his head to look at you.

A giggle escaped you, shaking your head at how dumb he could be after a moment like that.

"I must've too because I think we're in heaven," you whispered, moving to cuddle up next to him. He pulled you into his arms, wrapping himself around you.

You couldn't have dreamt of a moment like this before. Nothing in your life had made quite as much sense as this. All this time spent apart, just to be brought back together in the end. It made sense. He was your person, he had always been your person. You just needed to time to find yourself in between.

Thinking he had drifted off, his breathing evened out. His scent filled your nostrils, tobacco and cinnamon mixed with the sweet scent of sweat.

You could die here.

"She reminded me of you," he suddenly said, hand tracing over the small of your back.

You propped your head up on his chest, your own hand brushing against the dusting of hair on his sternum. Confused, you frowned at him, "Who?"

"The girl," he continued, biting his lip as he avoided eye contact. "The one I went to meet."

Not knowing what to say, you let him continue.

"She seemed like a small town girl, big city dreams," his hand moved higher to rest at the top of your spine. His hands were warm, tingling your nerves where he touched. "I wanted to convince myself that I could be with someone who wasn't you. It's all I've been doing since you left."

"Steve—"

"No, it's okay," he shook his head at you, leaning up slightly to press a kiss to your forehead. His hand was pressed at the back of your head. "It's funny because I went to meet her actually. And I... I couldn't do it. I went straight to the balcony and hid. She was walking around, I heard her ask for me a few times."

Your eyes were wide at this point, feeling your heartbeat beating to the drum of his. The two of you felt in sync.

"I just couldn't get you out of my head." He looked at you in the eyes, soft lines at the corner of his eyes that hadn't been there years prior. "I kept thinking about you, especially the last couple of months. I wanted to reach out, beg you to... I don't know what honestly, but I figured it was too long. You'd have moved on by now, forgot about little ol' me."

He let out a sarcastic laugh, fingers tightening around you as he held you closer.

"I felt... incomplete," he admitted, looking up at the ceiling as he fully laid back down.

You remained silent for a bit, heart in your throat as you took in his confession. You knew exactly how he felt, exactly that feeling that was unable to escape you since the day you left. It was a gnawing pain, an ache that you couldn't shake no matter what remedies you tried.

Laying your head down on his chest, you held him close and tight. You couldn't let him go now, you wouldn't make that mistake again.

"You have me now," you whispered, pressing a kiss to his skin. "We're complete now."

masterlist. inbox open. guess who's baaackkkkkkkkkkk <33

[animeyanderelover]

Request: Can I get a yandere ciel and yandere sakamaki with male reader? It's not homophobic but like male reader is just... Confused on how they can fall for a guy. Specifically him please and thank you!

So, I already did something very similar to this before with Ciel and the Sakamaki brothers so I will only add the characters in here that I haven’t done in this previous request.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, clinginess, manipulation, harrassment, violence, isolation, abduction, death, male s/o

But you're a guy!

Ayato Sakamaki

🥇​Ayato is already plenty confused himself about the fact that he fell for another guy yet obviously he won't allow you to express the same feelings that he is currently experiencing. In fact he actually gets rather pissed whenever you express any confusion about how you can fall for another man as this isn't the gender you find yourself attracted to. Obviously a part of him is sane enough to realise that he can't just expect you to flip your entire sexuality overnight yet another part of him just hates seeing you being all bewildered as you look at him. Would you stop looking at him like this?! It is interesting to see the mixture of anger, confusion and disbelief playing out in Ayato as he struggles for a while to comprehend what he is even supposed to do with you, although he is the one who abducted you in the first place. Sometimes he starts ranting about how he is better than some dumb, emotional girl anyways before he realises what he is doing and snaps at you to stop laughing even if you don't even do that, his head threatening to start smoking with the embarrassment he is feeling in that moment. He's still going to some lengths to establish himself as the dominant part in this relationship.

Kanato Sakamaki

🧸​Whilst a man isn't his usual target group, Kanato accepts the situation quickly as he doesn't question his attachment too much. That implies by no means that you can even think about relaxing though because he is screwed over in his head. Kanato is extremely jealous, all the more whenever he picks up the signals that you do not consider him as someone you could ever love. Whenever you do as much as looking in the direction of some other girl, he murders her and in the worst case he is even gifting you strands of her hair, her eyes or even shows you the doll he turned her into before he burns it down in front of you so that he can erase her image permanently from your mind. There are some things that don't change, regardless of what gender his darling is though. He will still insist on matching plushies, the tea parties and the outfits to doll you up, though since you are a man he will find you other pretty clothes that aren't dresses. His proneness to violence stays prominent though, especially if you dare to question how you could feel attracted to another man. The pain is the least scary part though as you instead dread it much more when he asks you for names of women who must have seduced you.

Laito Sakamaki

🎹​Normally he has always gone after women and his attraction for a guy is fairly new to him yet he takes it as an exciting and new challenge. There is a new kind of thrill as he goes after you and he doesn't shy away from being a pervert to you as he has been to the women in his life as he enjoys exploring the body of a man for the first time in his life. He's aware of your attractio solely lying in the opposite gender yet he doesn't care about that piece of information as he just goes after what he wants. If you have a silly crush on a girl, he will simply bully her until she avoids you. He hangs around you all the time, prepared to spew hurtful and insulting words to every girl you show an interest in. Lashing out at him is like giving him what he wants as he can't help but be entertained by almost all emotions you display. This openly flirtatious and seducing behavior continues even after the abduction, though now you really have no way avoiding him anymore. You are instead stuck with Laito all of the time as he clings to you, the clinginess only fueled by his intrigue that he fell in love with a man. Now both of you have a lot of time to get to know each better though~

[vanfleeter]

Show Me (2) // DRW

Characters: Danny x Fem!reader Warnings: Where do I begin? 18+ no exceptions. Sex, penetrative sex, cock riding, use of a vibrator, mentions of using other toys, mentions of anal (m!receiving), fingering. Let me know if I missed anything, because I probably did.

@gvfpal I hope I did better than the first part.

You whimper at the feeling of Danny removing his fingers from inside of you. “Don’t fret beautiful.” He says as he crawls off the bed. You watch him as he walks over to the dresser, his cock practically begging for some relief but he won’t give it to himself until he gives you the pleasure first.

He opens the top of his dresser and pulls out a box. You recognize the purple color because it’s the one he was adamant about keeping a secret from you. He said it was something for you but wouldn’t allude to any hints of what it could be. Though considering the situation you’re in at the moment gives ways to ideas of what it could possibly be.

Opening the box, he pulls out a long silicone dildo. “Vibrator.” He corrects you as he crawls back onto the bed.

“So basic.”

He chuckles. “I told you I’d start you out slow, didn’t I?”

—

Yes, he did tell you that weeks ago when you kept asking him what he had in mind. You had done your own research on what toys were out there and fantasized about which one is his favorite to use. He nearly choked on his coffee one day when you asked if he ever used a pocket pussy.

“What the fuck is that?” He says. “A travel size pussy?”

“I guess so. A male equivalent to a vibrator.”

“Fuck, babe. How did you even find that?”

“I may have done a little searching.” You say as you climb onto the counter.

“You, my dear, are going to be the death of me.”

You shrug your shoulders. “You made the mistake of saying you’d show me things.. So I thought I’d get acquainted with what some of them might be.”

“And suddenly a pocket pussy is what you wanted to ask me about?”

You nod your head. “Wanted to know if it felt at all similar to a real one.”

“It is nowhere near being similar to a real one.”

Your eyebrows raised as your curiosity peaked. “So you have used one.”

He shoves his finger in your face. “One time and I never used it after.”

“Do you still have it?”

He shakes his head. “Wasn’t mine to begin with.” He says before taking a drink of coffee.

“No?”

“Uh uh..” He says. “Jake’s..” Your jaw falls open and he chuckles. “Don’t be so surprised. The man can’t last long not being able to fuck his girlfriend while we’re on tour. I mean, have you seen him on stage?”

“Oh well-”

“Don’t answer that.” He says pointing his finger at you again. Your interest peaks as you think about him desperate and needy and seeking refuge inside of a plastic toy. “Only once did I use it.”

“Did it feel good?”

He peers at you over the rim of his coffee mug. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because I want to know who’s better. Mine or the pocket pussy.”

“Are you jealous of a toy that I used once?” He asks as he sets his coffee down on the counter.

“I am not jealous of a plastic toy,” You say, placing your hand on your chest and shaking your head. “I am curious.”

“Mmhmm, right..” He says as he slides in between your legs. He was still in his boxers whilst you were only clad in an oversized t-shirt that revealed a lot more to him as he spread your legs apart. “You need to stop exploring and fantasizing about me using a vibrator.”

“Have you used anything other than Jake’s pocket pussy to get yourself off?”

“Well..” He says chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“Daniel Robert Wagner.. Have you..” He sheepishly nodded his head. “Oh my god..”

“I was drunk and curious.”

“Daniel..” You playfully hit his chest. “You naughty boy.” You say before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close to you. “Would you use one on me?” You felt his clothed cock twitch against your naked center. “Oh, you would.”

“It’s the most basic toy out there.” He says. “Plus I want to start you out slow and teach you how to use it on yourself when I’m gone and you’re the desperate one.”

“Want to show me now?” You says before kissing him. Biting into his lower lip, he groans and digs his fingers into your waist.

“I don’t have one here.” He says after your release his lip.

“I didn’t mean a vibrator.” You says as you unwrap your arms around his neck and move your hands down to his boxers. You slip your hands beneath the waistband and softly grip his length.

Pulling your hands from his boxers, he places them on the counter before freeing himself. He pushes your shirt up to your waist and pulls you to the edge of the counter. He lines himself up with your entrance before slowly pushing himself inside of you. He moans and rests his head on you shoulder as he allows you time to adjust to the stretch from his cock. Once he feels you relaxing, he pulls back out then pushes back in.

He fucks into you at a steady pace, his hands spread out on your back as he keep you upright. Suddenly you feel him pull out of you before picking you up off the counter and carrying you over to the couch. He sits down with you straddling his waist.

“Ride me..” He says. “You’re so beautiful when you do.” You lift yourself up on your knees and line yourself up with his dick before sinking down onto it. He hums and lays his head back against the couch. “Oh yeah.. You feel so good.”

You begin lifting yourself and falling back down, creating that friction and pleasureful sensation again. “Do you.. Fuck.. Do you have to show me how to use a vibrator?” You say. “I like yours so much better.”

He scoffs. “Yes, I do.” He brings his hand down between you two and rubs circles into your clit. Your head falls backwards as a moan falls from your mouth. “Gotta learn how to use it for when I’m not here…” He groans and lets his head fall back again. “Unless.. You think–oh fuck, I’m close–You think you can survive… Oh.. Without me…”

You can feel him twitch and pulse inside of you on the verge of releasing. The hair on his thighs combined with his finger rubbing circles into your clit is enough to bring you to your own. Both of you hit your climax, you coating him while he spills inside of you. You fall forward against his chest, both of you breathing heavily.

“Think you could survive without me?” He questions as he runs his fingers through your hair. You shake your head and he laughs. “I thought so..”

You pick up your head. “So if I have to use the vibrator to get off while you’re away, does that mean you’ll have to use the pocket pussy again?”

“If I get my own.” He says shrugging his shoulders. “It just doesn’t really cut it.”

“Mmm, so I am better.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yes baby, you are better.”

—

Climbing in between your legs, he switches the vibrator on and gently ghosts it over your center. The soft touch of the vibrations forces your body to jolt. “I’ve barely touched you..” He chuckles. “And I thought I was better.”

“Shut up Danny.” You seethe, gripping at the sheets as he nudges the tip of the plastic penis through your entrance. “Oh Danny..” You moan.

“Never have a been so jealous of a plastic penis.” He laughs. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

You force your eyes open to look at him. He’s on his knees between your legs and gently guiding the toy further into you. “You would know, wouldn’t you?” You tease, letting a smirk cover your face.

His shoulders shake as he laughs. “You won’t ever let me leave that down, will you?”

“Never..”

He hums and nods his head. “Okay, fair enough.” He says before shoving the vibrator full inside of you. By now you could feel the vibrations at every inch of your body. Your knuckles are so white from gripping the sheets to tightly. The sensation soon becomes unbearable as he starts a pace of pulling out and pushing it back in. “Now how do you feel? Feel like cumming?”

You eagerly nod your head. “Danny, please..”

“Gonna keep poking fun at me?”

You shake your head, your back arching as the impending orgasm creeps closer. “Danny!” You cry out.

He pumps the vibrator inside of you a few times before pulling it out and quickly replacing it with himself. You can still feel the lingering vibrations as he thrusts deep inside of you. You can’t hear him praising you while you ride out your orgasm. His words completely washed out by the blood rushing to your head. You feel his hand, completely flatten and spread out along your chest, slowly slide down between your breasts and stops right on top of your pelvis area.

“That’s my girl,” You finally hear his voice. “I fill you up so nicely.” He grabs one of your hands and places where his was, his hand resting on top. “Do you feel that?” He says as he presses your hand down. “Feel me so deep.”

“Danny..” You moan.

“Mmm, you like the feel of that, don’t you?” He says. “Already onto your second orgasm when I haven’t reached my first..” He leans down to kiss you, never ceasing his movements. “Give it to me baby..” He says, keeping your hand firmly pressed to your pelvis. “There you are.” He breathes as the second wave crashes over you.

As you slowly come down from your orgasm, you feel him releasing inside of you as he reaches his. His body stiffens and he cries out your name and collapses onto your chest. He releases your hand and you pull it up to rest inside of his curls. Once his breathing slows, he lifts his head to look at you.

“Yeah.. I think you’ll be just fine without me while I’m away.” He smiles and places a kiss to your chest. “You did so good.”

“So next time, I get to use it on you.”

You feel his hand collide with the side of your ass. “I’ll think about it.”

[shadyfestivalperfection]

The Forever You Forgot~12 (End)

Summery: A six year old girl named Nadia Barnes born with a condition called 65 roses uncovers the story on how her dad-Bucky Barnes met her missing mother by narrating her the story and nothing remains the same after Nadia finds out the truth about her mother.

Characters: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Note:This story is based on the movie ‘Hi papa’. This story is like what if Bucky Barnes was in this situation that the male and female lead faced in the movie ‘Hi papa’. To be honest I am absolutely obsessed with this movie and I could help but write a Bucky Barnes version of it. I would totally recommend everyone to watch this movie and get some tissues with you before you start watching.

||Master List||

Chapter 12: A Heart’s Resolve

(Author’s pov)

Y/n’s heart pounded as she ran through the hallway, catching sight of Bucky and Nadia through the window. She didn’t know what had happened a few moments ago, but the sight of them together made her breath hitch. Sam stood nearby, his expression somber.

Y/n stopped next to Sam, her gaze fixed on Bucky and Nadia, who were still wrapped in a tight hug. Bucky slowly pulled away and walked toward her.

Y/n took a shaky breath, determination in her eyes. “You came for me? You really like me, right? Just tell me that you like me, and I will leave everything behind to be with you,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Bucky placed his hands on his hips and took a deep, controlled breath. His face was stoic, his tone cold.

“Aren’t you ashamed?” Bucky said, his words like a punch to her gut. “You decided to come to a stranger like me while you’re about to get married this evening? What kind of personality do you have?”

Y/n’s eyes widened, tears pooling in her eyes. She bit her lower lip to stop it from quivering.

“I’m not sure how you imagined yourself as N/M/n, but you both are similar in one aspect—you both tend to run away from your problems. Just give up!” Bucky continued, his voice laced with bitterness.

Y/n’s tears finally spilled over, but she tried to hold her ground. “You’re insulting me for being honest,” she whispered, her voice cracking. She looked at Nadia, hoping for some kind of support, some reassurance.

“Nadia, did you hear what your father said?” Y/n asked, kneeling down to meet the little girl’s gaze. She took Nadia’s small hands in hers, her grip gentle but desperate. “Nadia… you tell me, didn’t you imagine me as your mother?”

Nadia hesitated, her small hands trembling in Y/n’s grasp. Finally, she whispered, “I did. But you are not my real mother.”

The words hit Y/n like a physical blow. Nadia pulled her hands away, and the unshed tears finally cascaded down Y/n’s cheeks. She remained kneeling on the floor, her eyes hollow, unable to comprehend the pain tearing through her chest.

Nadia turned and ran toward Bucky, who bent down and scooped her up without another word. He gave one last glance at Y/n before walking away, Sam following closely behind.

Y/n stayed on the floor, her hands resting on her lap, as silent sobs shook her frame. It felt like the ground beneath her had vanished, leaving her in a void of confusion and heartbreak.

She didn’t move, didn’t chase after them. She couldn’t. For the first time in years, she felt utterly lost.

(Bucky’s POV)

As Sam and I made our way out of the open wedding hall, where the decorations were still being set up, I spotted Y/n’s mother sitting at a table, chatting with a few guests. My jaw clenched, and I could feel anger boiling inside me. I handed Nadia over to Sam.

“Take Nadia back to our room. I’ll be right back,” I said.

Sam nodded, sensing the tension, and walked away with Nadia. As soon as they were gone, I stormed toward Y/n’s mother. Without a second thought, I flipped the table across the hall, sending plates and glasses crashing to the floor. Gasps erupted around us as Y/n’s mother looked at me in shock.

The men who had attacked me earlier rushed toward me again, but this time I didn’t hold back. I fought them off easily, letting my frustration out on each of them. Once they were on the ground, I grabbed a chair and dragged it over, placing it right in front of Y/n’s mother. I sat down, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees, locking my cold, furious gaze onto her.

“Say anything to me, I’ll bear it. But if you say anything to my daughter, I won’t leave you alone,” I hissed, my voice low and menacing. “You revealed the secret I’ve been hiding from my daughter. Should I reveal your secret to your daughter?”

Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to respond, but I didn’t give her a chance. I stood up, giving her one last glare before walking away, leaving the chaos behind me.

⸻

Nadia and I sat in the back seat of the car as Sam drove us toward New York. The city lights blurred past the window, but I couldn’t focus on anything except the gnawing guilt in my chest. Nadia had her head resting on my shoulder, and I gently brushed her hair with my fingers.

“Nadia?” I whispered, noticing how still she was. I shook her shoulder lightly. “Doll, wake up.”

She didn’t respond. I tried again, panic creeping into my voice. “Nadia! Nadia, wake up, please.”

Sam glanced at us through the rearview mirror, his expression shifting to one of worry. He pulled the car over immediately.

“Nadia!” Sam called, turning in his seat to check on her. “What happened? Love, wake up.”

I couldn’t think. My heart pounded against my ribs as I cradled Nadia’s small frame.

“We need to get her to a hospital,” I said, my voice trembling.

Sam didn’t hesitate. He sped through the city streets, and before long, we pulled up in front of the hospital. The emergency staff rushed to us, and Nadia was quickly placed on a stretcher, her small body lying motionless as they wheeled her inside.

“Please… please help her,” I begged the nurse as they rushed her to the ICU.

One of the nurses stopped us from following. “Sir, please wait here. We’ll update you as soon as we know more.”

I nodded numbly, feeling like my world was crashing down. Through the small window of the ICU, I could see Nadia hooked up to wires, an oxygen mask covering her face. My heart twisted painfully, and I leaned against the glass, unable to tear my eyes away from her.

“Nadia, get up, please,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “You have to wake up.”

Sam placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think. All I could do was stare at my little girl, praying for her to open her eyes.

(Y/n’s POV)

The soft melody of the wedding march filled the air as I walked down the aisle, holding a bouquet of white lilies in my trembling hands. My heart felt heavy, and despite the makeup on my face, tears kept spilling from my eyes. Bucky’s harsh words echoed in my mind, and the pain I felt when Nadia didn’t want me as her mother weighed on me.

My mother walked beside me, trying to keep me steady, but I couldn’t help but feel empty. My dad was supposed to walk me down the aisle, but he wasn’t here. Typical. I took a deep breath and continued moving forward, trying to force a smile.

Suddenly, a voice called out.

“Y/n! Stop!”

I froze and turned around to see my dad walking towards me, slightly out of breath.

“You finally got the time?” I said, trying to sound indifferent, but my voice cracked.

“I had important work,” he said, his tone soft and guilty.

“What’s more important than your daughter’s wedding, Dad?” I shot back.

He looked at me, his gaze firm but gentle. “You like Bucky, right? Then why are you marrying Jay?”

My heart thudded painfully. “He doesn’t like me. I thought at least his daughter would like me. But she turned out to be worse than him,” I whispered, wiping a tear. “He insulted me for expressing my feelings. Bucky even compared me to his wife and said that we are similar.”

My dad gave me a pointed look. “He was right, wasn’t he?”

I frowned. “Right? When did I ever not fight? When did I ever give up?”

“Now,” he replied calmly. “Not when he said no. When you gave up fighting for your love after what he said. That’s when you behaved like his wife.”

“What else can I do?” I asked, my voice trembling.

“Prove that you are not like his wife and that you won’t run away from your problems. His daughter is in the ICU, Y/n. She’s battling death. She may not make it.”

My bouquet fell from my hands and hit the floor with a dull thud. I felt my whole body start to shake. Nadia? In the ICU? Battling death? I thought she was healthy now. I knew about her illness and she looked all better. How was she still sick? Is she okay? A thousand questions filled my mind. I needed to be with her.

My dad placed a hand on my shoulder. “Y/n, will you stand by Bucky and fight, or will you give up like his wife? It’s your call.”

I was about to speak when my mom grabbed my hand.

“Come on, we’re getting late. You can talk to your dad later,” she said, pulling me forward.

My dad gave me a reassuring nod. “Everyone is waiting… go.”

I looked at him, torn between duty and love. “Dad—”

“It’s your life. Your love. It’s your choice if you want to fight,” he said before walking away.

“Come on,” Mom insisted, pulling me toward the end of the aisle, where Jay was waiting.

I stood before him, unsure, my heart pounding.

Jay looked at me with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“I have to go, Jay,” I said, my voice cracking.

“What are you talking about?” Mom demanded, her voice stern.

“Is it Bucky?” Jay asked.

“You know him?” I replied, confused.

Jay’s eyes hardened. “If you don’t want to marry me, then leave. But he isn’t the right guy for you!”

“How can you say that?” I asked, hurt.

“You don’t know how much his wife suffered because of him,” Jay shot back.

“He suffered a lot too,” I argued.

“She wanted a divorce,” he said, his voice firm.

“No, she didn’t.”

“Yes, she did!”

“She must not have,” I whispered, my voice faltering.

Jay raised his voice, frustration evident. “Y/n! She wanted a divorce!”

Before I could stop myself, I shouted, “No, I did not want a divorce!”

Silence filled the room. Everyone was staring at me. I covered my mouth, shocked at what I just said.

“I’m sorry… I mean… She must not have asked for it,” I mumbled, shaking my head. But the words kept playing in my mind. I didn’t want a divorce. Why did I say that?

“This just doesn’t add up. She never wanted a divorce. Just how could she? She didn’t. She didn’t…” I murmured, tears streaming down my face.

Jay softened, realizing something wasn’t right. “Go. Leave before I change my mind.”

I hesitated, still processing my own words. Then, without thinking twice, I grabbed Via’s hand and ran toward the car. I didn’t care about the guests or the ceremony. I just needed to get to Nadia. I needed to get to Bucky.

I drove faster than I ever had before, with Via gripping the seatbelt, staring at me with wide eyes. I couldn’t think straight. I just prayed we would reach New York before it was too late.

(Author’s POV)

Y/n and Via had just left for New York, leaving behind a canceled wedding and a hall full of confused guests. Jay stood there, staring at the open door, his heart heavy.

Y/n’s mother stormed up to him, fury in her eyes.

“Are you mad? Why did you let her go?” she snapped.

Jay turned to her, his expression filled with realization.

“Did Y/n actually ask for a divorce before the accident?” he asked, his tone almost accusatory.

Y/n’s mother stiffened, her mouth opening and closing without a word. The truth was clear—she had lied. Y/n never wanted a divorce. Jay clenched his jaw, anger bubbling inside him.

“So all this time… you lied. Unnecessarily, Aaron beat up Bucky… Aaron! We need to leave now,” Jay said, rushing out to find his brother.

⸻

(Bucky’s POV)

It’s been more than 12 hours since Nadia was taken into the ICU. The doctors told me her condition was getting worse—she needed a lung transplant immediately. Without it, she had just a few hours left. No doctor wanted to perform the surgery because of the high risk.

I sat on the cold hospital couch, my hands on my knees, staring at my feet. The heaviness in my chest felt unbearable. The silence was suffocating, and every minute felt like an hour. Suddenly, I heard footsteps approaching.

“Bucky?” A familiar, soft voice called out, but it was filled with sadness.

I looked up, and there she was—Y/n, standing in her wedding dress, her eyes red and puffy from crying. What was she doing here? Did she come for me?

“Nadia said she would never leave me again, and now she isn’t answering,” I whispered, my voice cracking. Y/n knelt down to my level, her hand reaching out to touch mine.

“Everyone thought that Nadia survived because of me. But the truth is, I survived because of her,” I continued, my vision blurring with tears.

Y/n wrapped her arms around me, her left hand gently resting on the back of my head, the other on my back. We both started crying, the pain too much to bear. I couldn’t hold back anymore.

“I’m scared…” I admitted.

“She’s your daughter. How can she leave you? If you cry, she will lose. If you fight for her, she will win. Nothing will happen to Nadia,” Y/n whispered, her voice firm yet soothing.

“Promise?” I asked, desperate for any reassurance.

She pressed her forehead against mine, our breaths mingling.

“Promise,” she whispered back.

Before I could say anything else, Sam came running towards us.

“Bucky! There’s a doctor willing to perform Nadia’s transplant,” he said, panting.

Y/n and I stood up, hope igniting in my heart.

“Who is it?” Y/n asked.

“It’s Jay,” Sam replied.

⸻

Inside the hospital room, Jay stood with Dr. Black, discussing Nadia’s condition.

“If we perform the surgery, the child might not survive. Even if she does, she might only last a few hours,” Dr. Black explained grimly.

“Anyhow, she’s dying. If we don’t do it now, she won’t last more than an hour. James, it’s your decision. Do you want me to perform Nadia’s transplant?” Jay asked, his voice firm yet compassionate.

I took a deep breath, memories of Nadia flooding my mind—her laughter, her stubbornness, her love.

“Do it,” I said.

The nurses began preparing Nadia for surgery. Y/n approached Jay, her hands trembling.

“Jay… You saved me once. Now, please save my daughter. Please…” she begged, tears streaming down her face.

“I’ll try my best,” he assured her.

⸻

A few moments later, Nadia was brought out of the ICU on a stretcher, still connected to the ventilator, her tiny face pale and fragile. Y/n rushed to her side, gently holding her hand.

“Nadia? Nadia?” she called softly.

Nadia’s eyelids fluttered open, and she looked up weakly.

“Love, don’t you want me?” Y/n asked, forcing a small smile through her tears.

Nadia slowly nodded, her little fingers twitching in Y/n’s grip.

“Can I stay with you and Bucky forever?” Y/n asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Again, Nadia nodded. Y/n leaned down and kissed her forehead.

“I’ll be waiting, okay? Be brave,” she whispered, trying to hold back the sob threatening to escape.

Nadia was wheeled into the operation room, and Y/n stood frozen, watching her disappear behind the doors.

⸻

We stood outside the OR, the tension thick around us. Y/n wrapped both her arms around my metal arm, resting her head on my shoulder. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything—I was too terrified.

She broke the silence.

“I wish I met you in Budapest,” she said softly.

My heart skipped a beat, memories flashing before my eyes.

“I wish I fell in love with you,” she continued, her voice tender and full of longing.

I could feel my pulse racing.

“I wish I was the one who married you,” she whispered, holding onto me tighter.

My breathing grew shallow.

“I wish Nadia had been born to me,” she finished, her voice breaking.

I finally exhaled, my chest aching from holding back all the emotions. I looked at her, seeing the pain and love in her eyes, and I knew—no matter what happened today, I wouldn’t let go of her again.

-The end

[crimeronan]

re: your empathy posts. As someone who probably has higher than normal empathy (I used to ask people around me how they deal with sympathetic distress in common situations that occur in a job and only got blank stares) you're so valid!! The lionizing of this random subconscious process called empathy is so useless! It says nothing about the person and their values! As your other commenters suggested, people disparaging you may just be trying to boost their own shaky feelings about how their own emotional stability is deeply tied to their people-pleasing tendencies.

If anything, I think learning to function "normally" in society with "empathy" makes you more messed up. I understand this person's distress. I acknowledge it, and know how my actions will make it worse. I make them feel worse anyway, because that's the organizationally approved behavior, causing more pain for both them and myself. All the while I must behave as if I am cheerful and unbothered. Internalizing that hurting others and yourself to achieve your goals is Fine is necessary in order to stay sane. This is counter to everything people say they believe, so lying also has to become a virtue.

Buying kindness from the store seems like a really kind thing to do tbh. I am passing you on the street as I am schlupping over to pick up some callousness.

this last sentence made me giggle a lot. but YEAH!! a lot of this is spot-on to stuff i've been thinking about lately. like, "normal" empathy levels seem to be socially defined as "you care about people and want to help them, but you don't care so much that you'll harm yourself in pursuit of that" and it's all just..... i dunno. so much pathologizing of how we think and feel and whether we're Human (TM) about stuff. it's all so Weird

like..... i keep thinking that my lack of empathy gives me certain advantages in social situations. but in a similar vein to the ppl worried about sounding like tiktok empaths for being hyperempathetic, i worry that this makes me sound like an alpha male influencer writing youtube essays about why emotions make you weak, or whatever.

it's not that emotions make people weak or that having less empathy makes me like, a Cold Logical Calculating Math-Loving Strategist. i'm a writer who focuses solely on character-driven stuff, u probably wouldn't expect that from a stereotypically sociopathic person. part of why i LIKE writing character-driven stuff so much is BECAUSE i've had to actively teach myself how other people think, how they feel, how they struggle, etc

a lack of empathy means i can choose not to get invested in other people's feelings or lives, i don't feel guilty for emotionally disconnecting, i'm not afraid of being disliked. but i still know how to act like a decent human being. there's that one post about how stupid it is not to realize being nice gets people to be nice back, and fuckin. YEAH!! it's astonishing to me to read about cases of """clinical sociopaths""" (who are just people who didn't get the 'pretend you give a shit, moron' memo) manipulating and gaslighting people and whatnot. everyone in the comments will always be like "ooo so scary... they didn't feel bad at ALL... so terrifying that people who don't feel guilt exist..." and i'm like.

IS GUILT THE ONLY THING THAT KEEPS YOU FROM COMMITTING ATROCITIES???

BLOWS MY MIND. IT'S LIKE..... THE LEFTIST EQUIVALENT OF SAYING EVERYONE WOULD BE MURDERERS IF THEY WERENT SCARED OF GOD. LIKE. YOU ONLY AVOID DOING BAD STUFF BC IT MAKES YOU FEEL BAD??????

good LORD. at least having no empathy means i've had to grow my principles organically. oh my GOD.

anyway what brought these thoughts up today was that i was thinking about gansey and luz noceda, since theyre extremely similar characters & on my All Time Faves list. and i've said this before but the things i love about them (the kindness, self-sacrificing shit, anxiety, etc) are things i don't see in myself. but Wish I Did. like i wish i was kinder on the inside than i am.

but i know that i admire ppl with luz and gansey traits both in fiction and in real life. so i simply just..... emulate the luz and gansey actions. not always successfully, esp because i have a temper and very little patience, but like. i try to be kind where i can bc i wish i was someone who tries to be kind when they can. so i'm just going to be. u know??

[picathartidae]

I don't remember if I sent you an ask for the Durge Creator questions.... Would you mind answering 9 and 10?

You have not! Thank you for sending one in!

9. How much did Bhaal influence their design or personality in the end? Did you research lore to purposefully get the resemblance or do you just go with the flow and what feels right for the story you want to tell?

For design? Basically not at all, beyond a sudden desire to mod in him having Bhaalist tattoos on my second run with him, and one incredibly stupid idea regarding his voice I had that isn't in the game at all but I've decided to run with it. I had Durge figured for a Bhaalspawn when I first watched the little introduction, so it’s not like I didn’t know that when I initially created him in my first playthrough; it’s more that I figured that since Durge is customisable, I could make whatever the hell I wanted. And I wanted to make a blue tiefling. 

For personality? I mean, kind of? It made sense to me to make Bhaal the thing that defined Alassane — who he is, what he’s been through, how he’s developed, his wants and needs and fears. Astarion and Shadowheart have my favourite arcs in the game, with Cazador and Shar respectively defining them; so I tried to make Alassane’s situation a sort of mix of the two, with Bhaal as the villain. I wanted his journey to feel like it fit in with the other subplots more than anything.

I did a bit of obligatory reading to make sure I understood the timeline, but it really wasn’t the point. I wanted to focus on the abusive dynamic of their relationship and the power Bhaal held over Alassane because it’s more important to me to have themes consistent with those in the game rather than having painstakingly accurate lore (as much as that hurts my poor autistic brain to say, but it’s true). My version of Bhaal is probably wildly inaccurate, but it’s fanfiction and I’m trying to have fun and write what I want to. No one's yelled at me for it yet, but we'll see.

10. How much of yourself can be found in your Durge? Do you share the same personality, taste, a specific feature? Are they who you want to be or who you used to be? Are they entirely removed from you as a person?

All my male protagonists are way too much like me, it’s virtually unavoidable at this point. I write a lot of introverted awkward nerd asexual cis guys that have big accidental transmasc energy because I am a big dumb dumb and it somehow never occurs to me that I can just. Write trans men. Oh well.

Most of the real similarities are kind of tied up in metaphors and themes and how I use characters and fiction writing and fantasy to reflect and self-actualise and process whatever intense thing I am feeling at a safe and comfortable distance. That’s why his redemption arc is so important to me, and why I’m very insistent about not hiding the fact that he is an objectively terrible person who is nonetheless trying to be better. And why I am playing the power of friendship trope completely straight.

What I’m trying to say is that Alassane is a traumatised perfectionist who clings to hyper-competence and leans heavily into a carefully constructed personality out of a desperation for approval and acceptance while living in a constant state of complete identity crisis because I have some things I desperately need to unpack. Writing about these things is how I do that. That’s easier for me to do when it’s against a backdrop of magic and evil mind-controlling cults and brain worms and dragons.

[walker-extended-universe]

Out of the Closet, Into the Fire

Relationship(s): Past Cordell Walker/Emily Walker, Cordell Walker/Original Male Character(s), August Walker & Cordell Walker & Stella Walker, Cordell Walker & Liam Walker, Ben Perez/Liam Walker

Tags/Warnings: Internalized Homophobia, Homophobia, Compulsory Heterosexuality, Closeted Cordell Walker, Gay Cordell Walker, Secrets, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Sexual Situations, Coming Out

Summary:

Cordell and Emily Walker had a happy, successful marriage with two beautiful children. They loved each other, just not the way they probably should as a married couple. Cordell has been in the closet his entire life. Following the death of his wife, he starts considering his other options. Does he stay in the closet and move on with someone new? Does he stay a widower for life? Or does he take a new path?

Taglist: @theladywyn, @ihavepointysticks, @klaatu51, @itsjessiegirl1, @neptunium134

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

Chad had been working at this bar for a few years now. He knew all the regulars and most of the people that just came in for the special event nights. There were even a few recognizable faces that floated in at random from time to time.

All that to say, he knew a newbie when he saw one and the guy sitting at the corner of the bar by himself was definitely a newbie. He wasn’t talking to anyone, not even trying to get a bartender’s attention. He was just watching, looking around the room in a slow revolution.

Chad made his way down to that end of the bar. “Get you a beer?”

The man startled and gave him an awkward smile. “Uh- yeah. Beer’s good. Whatever you have on tap.”

Chad poured him a beer and slid it across the bar. “This your first time?”

“Uh, yeah. Am I that obvious?”

“A little.”

The man chuckled. “Yeah, figures. I, uh, don’t normally come to these sorts of places.”

“Not your scene?” Chad guessed.

The man shrugged. “Nothing that drastic. I go to bars all the time. Just…not a bar like this.”

Ah. Fella must be recently out. “Well, how do you like it?”

He shrugged again. “It’s nice.” He huffed. “Is it weird that I thought it’d be like this… revelation? Like, I’m finally where I’m supposed to be? Among my people?”

“Nothing wrong with that. We’re all looking for somewhere to belong, and a lot of people feel like they belong here. Do you?”

“I guess I do.” The man took another glance around the room. “I don’t feel uncomfortable or anything. Just feels… Normal, I guess. Which is probably the point. I guess I just thought it would be a bigger deal since I never did this. I thought about it, sure, but I never got around to it when I was younger and then life happened and well…..” The man shrugged and sipped on his beer. “Here I am now, I guess.”

“So what changed?” Chad couldn’t help but ask. “What made you want to come in now?” Maybe he shouldn’t pry, but he liked hearing peoples’ stories, and he had a feeling this man had an interesting one.

“My wife died.” The man looked down at his left hand where a ring likely once sat. “I did love her, you know? Not the way a man should love his wife but…. I think we had a stronger marriage than most of the heterosexual couples we knew.”

“Grief comes in all flavors.” Chad had seen similar stories over the years, almost lived that one himself once upon a time. “I think she’d be happy you’re taking this chance on yourself.”

“Yeah, maybe….” The man finally looked back up at him. “I was thinking about just going on like normal. Plenty of widowers never marry again. But….” he sighed and took another, longer, pull of his beer. “I had a bit of an… Well, not an argument necessarily but I had to come out to someone who wanted more than my friendship and… I don’t know. I just got to thinking: maybe I don’t have to be lonely.”

“Well, what’s stopping you from being lonely?”

The man snorted. “I’m 41 years old, I have two kids in high school, and not even my out and proud brother knows I’m gay. I know they’d probably be supportive but…. It’s not that simple, you know?”

Chad nodded. “I get the picture. You don’t wanna rock the boat and break more than what you might be fixing.”

“That’s about the long and short of it. Plus, I haven’t flirted with anyone since high school and I’ve definitely never flirted with a man before so I’d probably just get laughed out of here if I really tried.” The man chuckled at himself. “I mostly just wanted to be here. Just…exist in the community for a little bit.”

“Amen to that.” Chad slid him another beer, on the house. “You’re welcome to exist in the community here anytime you like. There’s always room for one more.”

“I’ll drink to that.” The man accepted his second beer. “My name’s Cordell, by the way.”

“Chad.” They shook hands. “Welcome to the community.”

[rotting-fae]

⊙ Itoshi Rin × male! Reader

⊙ Tags: second person pov, obsessive reader, reader hasn't killed anyone… Yet, Rin is somewhat aware of readers obsession (not fully tho), the stalking of Rin by reader, reader is clingy af.

>Please read DNI list before interacting<

>(Fem/Fem aligned DNI)<

A/N : this is based off of a char.ai rp (and oc) i had during an exceptionally delirious sick night lol, and This may become a series.

You and Rin sat quietly next to one another, he was watching a soccer match on his computer whilst you just simply observed him. You're content with this situation because who wouldn't? You are spending quality time with the love of your life in a comfortable silence, the birds are chirping, and the weather is just perfect.

There was no one else, just you and him, no one to bother your perfect time together.

Some may call it luck, some may call it a coincidence, while others call it destiny… but you, you call it thorough planning and pure dedication, many would be amazed and concern if they were to find out how someone like you –a nobody that would be considered a background character– can get together with a soccer prodigy while you yourself are not exactly known for you athleticism. 

But when you aren't so athletically capable you make up for it with your undying dedication, you see… the reason you and Rin even met was not by some miracle, your first encounter with him wasn’t even in person… You saw Rin for the first time on TV, you were instantly enamored the moment he came on screen, it was as if cupid himself shot you with a million arrows through your heart in that exact moment, it’s impossible perfectly describe how you felt in that exact moment, but the best you can put it is your vision tunneled focusing solely on Rin, the world around you stopped as you felt you have met you other half.

But of course you quickly snapped out of it, you haven't met Rin in person… Yet, and who knows, he could have been very different from how he is on TV… and in a way you were right, but not in a bad way…

Later that day you barricaded yourself in your room so you can do some “research” about Rin.

And that was the beginning of your obsession.

“Hey Rinnie, do you remember the day we first met?” You asked in a cheerful tone, breaking the silence between you and him.

“Hm? Yeah, I remember… We met at a café, you were behind me and just so happened to order a drink similar to mine…” Rin answers, his tone was nonchalant but you know he thinks very fondly of that day –and of you in general–, “yeah, what a neat coincidence huh?” You said your voice was still full of glee, you know the truth, you did that all on purpose, but Rin was none the wiser and you like to keep it that way, “yeah, it is…” Rin answered with a faint smile on his lips.

[rose-tea-and-strawberries]

Hello! Tis me, the one who wrote the little headcanon about House of Mouse Yuu’s scars! And I have come back with a sequel!

So, the headcanon is based off of the fact that I-irl—am an archer. So I thought: “wouldn’t it make sense since Yuu doesn’t have magic to pick up a weapon instead?” So I wracked my brain for a headcanon idea and came out with this!

Since people who are not yet adults can’t own guns, Yuu chooses two weapons. 1) A recurve bow and 2) a multi-tool. A bow takes time and effort(and many, MANY slaps from the bowstring hitting your arm) to learn, Yuu needs a placeholder and a weapon in case she finds herself in close combat overblot fights or she is too close to use a bow so she picks a multi-tool. Not only is it a good weapon, it has mundane uses as well just so it’s not like she’s carrying a knife in her pocket wherever she goes. It can be helpful for other situations as well!

I’m pretty sure you’ve mentioned the princes and princesses helping Yuu learn self defense and I love it! 💝💝💝 (it also maybe inspired me to make the headcanon sequel;) )

Wait hold up, you're an ARCHER?!?!?!?

THAT IS SO COOL 🤩🤩🤩

I've always loved archers and found them so talented. I remember when I was younger there were these adverts of Nerf Rebelle bows that I wanted to get but knew better to ask for.

Yeah, since she can't do magic, the Disney cast have decided to train her in the art of weapon-wielding.

Merida and Robin Hood are the best archery teachers Yuu could ask for.

I bet Minnie or Daisy or one of the more modern characters would give her boxes of pepper spray for her to keep on her person in case f emergencies.

Maleficent's little goblin goons would try to give her their morningstars or clubs since they always found bludgeoning people to death the best way to defend yourself but that was quickly shot down.

There's this isekai manwha I once read called 'Miss Not-So Sidekick' where the male lead gifts the main character an enchanted ring that when activated casts a fireball the size of a building to kill anyone that troubles her and I 100% believe that Malleus would do something similar

[zaceouiswriting]

The hunter and its prey

Character: Jeremy Gilbert x male reader

Universe: Vampire Dairies

Warnings: None

After everything you and your family went through, you would’ve never thought, that you could have a seemingly normal life.

Now playing video games at a friends house? After all of that, you would’ve never thought this could happen again.

Not after you accidentally, killed a group of guys that bullied you all your life. Before any investigation could take place, your parents got you out of the situation and moved away.

It was this day, on your sixteens birthday, that you learned that you actually not even a human. And your parents weren’t your parents.

A long time ago, sixteen years to be exactly, a couple ran up to your parents, feeling that they were special, asking them to take care of you. Except a verbal explanation, they left a book with you, that neither of them were able to read.

But you were from the moment you could read on. They never wanted to tell you this. Always had thought that they were just junkies or something like this.

Now after you powers awoken in you, they needed to tell you.

For weeks in this new town, you barricaded yourself in your house. Reading the book your biological parents gave you over and over. Not finding anything of substance.

This was until something strange had happened. It was normal for you to speak in your sleep. Something you always did, when you got stressed out.

Only for this night to become special. This time not even your parents needed to tell you, that you sleep talked, because of the bright white light shining in your room.

A person, a young man just like you stood in front of you. Maybe a couple of years older, but you could’ve been made for all you knew, after seeing him. You two were not similar, but identical.

„My name is Vertak Ulmek Tarnak, im the wisdom of your kin, born from the first of your dynasty, in his image. You called for me in the same language I speak now to you, the one no one else on this world knows. Now im here after you became a awoken. To answer and serve.“ He bowed in front of you, like a servant would do for his master.

It felt strange but somewhat known to you, even if it never happened before.

Of course you had a million questions. And he answered every single one of them, except for what happened with your biological family, because he did not know either. Only that a species called the `Ulwak´, started a war with your kind, which your people obvious were losing.

You also got to know, that after plan C5 in the preventing law, you weren’t the only one, brought to another world, to outlive this tragedy, to at one point come back and conquer your world back.

It gave you enough willpower to get out of your shell and learn to fight. For months you searched for people, who could taught you fighting, only to exceed them in a short amount of time.

At some point in your quest to find yourself and others that were just as you, you actually found a friend.

Which whom you did almost everyday something, doing sports or play video games like you two did at this day.

„Ohhho, and you will go down again!“, you screamed in triumph, after kicking Jeremys ass again in Street Fighter.

You could sense that he was annoyed at your antics, but could also not hide a low smile.

Some days were just this. You two sitting in his home, drinking soda and playing video games the whole day. That you two became friends was more an accident than anything else. Actually, you were kinda an ass to him after meeting him, putting him down, to try to ease his pain with drugs, which not only could destroy his body and mind, but also affect his reflexes.

Especially in public this could be fatal. Like that day, where he completely stoned out of his mind, almost ran in front of a car. You still to this day, when you think about this day, could feel the harsh sog of air, of the car, after you grabbed him, pulled him in and turned you two around, so you were in front of the car and not him.

Not only became you two fast friends after a couple of weeks after the incident, where Jeremy came to you to apologize. But you also became his hype person, his rock so he did not need the drugs anymore.

Whenever you could feel, that he was shortly before getting something again, you made it your mission to stop it at any costs. You even revealed your powers to him.

He was astounded at this, not believing what you could do. Since then, he often just does mostly harmless things to see and feel your powers again.

„I will get you in the next round,“ Jeremy told you trough gritted teeth.

You just smiled at him, „Of course you do little Jeremy, of course your do.“

Anger visible turned up on his face, after you mentioning, that he was smaller than you. Just by a inch or so, but this was enough for you.

The next round was harder, he really tried. It was close, but you still seem to win. This was until, Jeremy grabbed your controller. 

For a moment, you could not process what was happening. When you finally got there, you just had lost.

Jeremy jumped up from his sitting position, „Finally! Im the best, you loser!“, he exclaimed loudly, but you did not reacted at all.

„You cheated.“

„No, I just took advantage of you being easy to bring out of concept.“ He still victoriously stated the fact.

Inside of you began something to boil up. Not really anger, but more annoyance. Before you knew it, you were hovering over Jeremy, your left leg between his, opening him up slightly. His arms pinned down by your hands.

His dark brown eyes mesmerized you, by just looking into them. Even after all this happening so fast, Jeremy still seemed to be in full possession of his own mind. His tongue slowly, seductively tracing his lips, until you couldn’t take it anymore.

Letting go of one of his arms, tracing his face, with your finger, as well as his lips, before holding his head into place. Your lips closing onto him, slowly.

Which Jeremy seemed to have taken as an challenge, Because he swiftly turned you two around, so that you were in the same position he just was in, with just one exception. He was kissing you instantly.

Both your lips, working like a perfect oiled machine. Up until this point, you did not even knew, that you liked him, but now everything made sense. All these strange feelings you had, were jealousy. But now you would keep him, with all your might you had.

If you only had known, that someone was watching the entire interaction between you two.

[imagineyourworld]

The Wife

Wolffe x Fem!Padawan!Reader

Summary: When visiting a backwards village Plo Koon’s Padawan has to pretend to be married to Commander Wolffe in order to get the residents to back off

Warnings: Misogyny, a bit of nudity, a bit spicy making out

Check out my other work here

-------

You had been walking for what felt like hours when your Master, Plo Koon, received a message and asked you to join him at the front of the train of walking soldiers.

“(Y/N), my dear, I have some unfortunate news”, he started.

You looked at your Master expectically. Unfortunate news could mean basically anything and you could only hope that it wasn’t anything that would massively complicate your relief mission.

“As you know we’re going to deliver supplies to the Gonchee people here, and we don’t know much about them.” You simply nodded, not wanting to interrupt your Master, who continued just a moment later. “Master Yoda just forwarded me recent information we gained about the Gonchee. It seems they see human women as nothing more than, for a lack of a better word, prices or trophies to be won or taken.”

Your curious expression morphed into one of shock and disgust. Of course you knew that not every planet had the same standards when it came to equality between the sexes, but this level of misogyny was something you hadn’t expected to be confronted with.

“If I had known earlier I would have offered to let you stay on Coruscant or accompany another battalion”, Plo tried to apologize. But you just shook your head.

“It’s quite alright, Master. If I am to be a Jedi knight soon I will have to learn to handle situations such as this one, though I cannot say I am happy.”

Plo put a heavy hand on your shoulder and gave it an affectionate squeeze. He knew you were capable of handling yourself and could fight off a couple of Gonchee if necessary, but as your Master he still felt responsible and worried for your safety and wellbeing.

“Master Yoda also said that the Gonchee usually don’t bother married women, they consider them to be claimed by their husband.”

You looked up to your Master, expecting him to continue, but he just stared straight ahead, his expression never betraying his thoughts.

“I am not married, though”, you finally said.

“No, you’re not. You’re a Jedi and shouldn’t have attachments”, he answered. 

Part of you wanted to correct him. You were not a Jedi, not yet at least. But the other, bigger, part was overjoyed your Master considered you a Jedi and not just a Padawan.

“I suppose I could ask Commander Wolffe to pretend to be your husband. Just for your safety, of course”, Plo continued. 

For a fraction of a second you lost your balance, but quickly managed to catch your footing again. He couldn’t know about your crush on Wolffe, could he? Sure, your Master was a great Jedi, strong in the force, and he knew you better than anyone, having raised you like his own daughter, but you have been so careful to hide your feelings for your commander. 

“Only if that’s what you want, of course.” 

You took a moment to consider the proposition. Feelings aside, it was a good idea. If being ‘married’ would make sure the Gonchee wouldn’t bother you and ensure you could do your job that was a good thing, the rational thing to do. 

Finally you nodded. “Only if Wolffe wants to, though. Otherwise I’ll ask Sinker.” 

-------

-------

Wolffe hasn’t been watching you and the General, that would be ridiculous. And of course he hasn’t noticed how your hair shines in the sun or how you smile at your Master with love and trust in your eyes. And when Plo Koon asked to talk to him a while later he wasn’t hoping to find out more about your conversation with him, that thought never crossed his mind. 

“Wolffe, I have a favour to ask you.” 

Wolffe simply nodded. He would to anything for the kind Jedi who treated him and his brothers like actual people, who never showed them anything other than respect. 

“Of course, General. What is it?” 

“I want you to be married to (Y/N).” 

It took all the self control Wolffe could gather not to look at the Jedi, not to blush and not to let his feelings show. 

“Is this a test?”, he asked. Though it seemed out of character for Plo, maybe he was trying to get Wolffe to confess his feelings for you. Feelings he had spent months and months trying to deny and repress, feelings that would get him in more trouble than he could ever imagine if anyone were to find out. 

“No, no”, the General reassured his Commander. He then told Wolffe about the situation and why he was asking this of him. 

Wolffe nodded along with the explanation before finally daring to look at Plo. 

“Did (Y/N) suggest me as her fake husband?”, he asked, trying his best to keep his voice even and steady. He knew it was a arisky question that might tell the Jedi more about his feelings than he should know, but he couldn’t help but wonder and he wouldn’t agree if you would rather be fake married to one of his brothers instead of him. 

“It was my idea, though she seemed to be quite happy with you as her ‘husband’“, Plo answered in a tone that told Wolffe the Jedi had to be smiling under his mask. “I just thought you were the obvious choice, considering how close the two of you are.” 

Wolffe nodded, not knowing what to say. 

“That makes sense”, he finally said. 

Plo looked at the young man next to him. Though Wolffe’s expression was usually stoic, now it was even more so. It seemed forced, as if he was trying his best not to let any feelings show. The General couldn’t help but realize just how similar the clone’s expression was to yours just a bit earlier. 

“Maybe you should go to (Y/N) to discuss how you’re going to handle the situation. I’ll inform the others to play along”, Plo suggested after a few moments of awkward silence and with a quick “Yes, sir” Wolffe turned around to find you amidst the soldiers. 

-------

By the time you were nearing the village, you and Wolffe had just finished your plan. 

“Let’s go over it one last time”, he suggested. 

You opted not to tell him that that would be the third ‘one last time’, partly because you knew he didn’t like being corrected and would not hesitate so snap at you, partly because going over this plan like any other mission made it easier for you to let it sink in that this was just that, a plan, a mission, pretend. You were not married to Wolffe, nor would you ever be. The two of you were friends, nothing more. Because no matter how you felt, how you’ve been feeling for quite some time now, you could never be together, even on the off chance that Wolffe reciprocated your feelings. 

“The Gonchee don’t know anything about Jedi, other than that we’re here to help, so they won’t find our ‘marriage’ suspicious. We’ll them we met at the beginning of the war and have been married for a couple of months. Really, Wolffe, it’s not that complicated, I’m sure we’ll both be able to remember to play the part.” 

The snark reply you had been expecting didn’t come. Instead Wolffe simply nodded and stared straight ahead. 

“Just remember to keep physical contact to a minimum”, he reminded you for the fifth time. 

You rolled your eyes. Sure, Wolffe had never been one for hugs and cuddling, unlike many of his brothers, who often seeked you out for a comforting hug, but he really didn’t have to tell you to keep your hands to yourself every couple of minutes, you were not some hormonal teenager. 

“Will do, Commander.” 

Without another word, or even so much as a nod, Wolffe speeded up his steps to join Master Plo at the front. 

“What’s gotten into your husband?”

You turned around to find Sinker looking at you with an amused expression, Boost right beside him sporting a smug grin. 

“Guess he’s just not too thrilled about being fake married to me”, you tried to joke, even though just the thought hurt more than you cared to admit. Of course you knew nothing could ever happen between you, but you’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t hoped that this mission would allow you to pretend for just a little while, to maybe get closer to him. 

“If he really didn’t want to do it, he wouldn’t do it. I heard him talking to the General, Plo asked him, he didn’t order him. Wolffe could have stepped down and let one of us take his place. And I’m sure most of us would have happily done so”, Boost claimed, laying a hand on your shoulder and sending you a warm smile. 

Maybe it would have been better to do this with someone else, someone who would put his arms around you to really sell the story and who you could laugh about the whole affair with afterwards. And yet you knew that being in a ‘relationship’ with anyone other than Wolffe would have been worse than Wolffe’s obvious dislike of the whole situation. 

“It’s fine. Wolffe’s just being Wolffe, he’ll come around once we arrive at the village”, you tried to reassure both the troopers and yourself. 

-------

Wolffe had, in fact, not come around by the time you reached the village. He had spent the rest of the way talking to your Master and completely ignoring you. It was moments like this that made you question why you even had feelings for him, he was so hot and cold, sending you gentle smiles and sharing inside jokes one moment and acting like you didn’t even know each other the next. But it was those few moments when his gentler side, which you alway thought was more his true self, showed, that kept you hooked. 

It was Plo Koon who interrupted your thoughts by asking you to join him and Wolffe at the front to greet the Gonchee. 

The small creatures were no bigger than Jawas, had greenish fur and ears that reminded you of Loth cats, other than that they looked pretty human. 

“Good evening. I am General Plo Koon, these are Commander (Y/N) (Y/L/N), Commander Wolffe and the 104th. We were sent by the Republic to deliver supplies and help you reset your village.”

The Gonchee at the front, who seemed to be an older man, bowed his head slightly, the others, all male you realized, followed suit. 

“Welcome, Jedi Koon. I see you have brought a female with you, I don’t suppose she’s here to stay with us?” 

The way he licked his lips with his yellow tongue made you shudder. You could sense resentment practically rolling off your master at the Gonchee’s words, but more than that it was Wolffe’s arm around your shoulder that calmed you. 

“My wife will most certainly not stay with you, she’ll be by my side, always.” 

Maybe you imagined that his arm tightened around you as you leaned into him, but you certainly didn’t imagine the growl coming from his throat as the Gonchee looked you up and down. 

“Such a shame. Having a human woman is an honor to us, you know and this one seems to be a fine specimen. You’re lucky to have her.” 

Though his words sounded as if he was buying your lie and letting go of the thought of having you, whatever that meant, you couldn’t bring yourself to believe that he, or any other male Gonchee, would leave you alone. Not even Wolffe looking at you from the side, a small smile on his lips, could relief you of your anxiety. 

“I feel like the luckiest man in the galaxy every minute I have her next to me.” 

His words were directed at the Gonchee, but somehow they felt like more. Like something one would whisper to a lover in private. 

It was only when Plo spoke up again that you could tear your eyes away from Wolffe, from his warm gaze and full lips. 

“The men will bring in the supplies now, if you’ll allow, and then we’ll settle for the night.” 

The Gonchee at the front nodded. 

“Of course, of course. Though the lady should stay with the other women. You see, we don’t allow women to do any physical labour. 

-------

Several Gonchee had offered to accompany you to the hut the women of the village spend most of their time in, but you had declined. That didn’t mean you could go alone, however. The entire 104th seemed to have noticed the glances the male Gonchee shot you and had silently agreed to never let you out of their sight while you were in the village. Which is how you found yourself with your hand in the crook of Wolffe’s elbow, being lead to the ‘women’s hut’ as it was called. 

“I’ve been to many planets and have met people of many cultures, but none of them were as backwards as the Gonchee. If they could see you in action they would know not to look at you like that”, your companion grumbled. 

You swallowed down the urge to tell him that quite a few shinies have made their moves on you in the past, though you had shot all of them down and had to admit that none of them reduced you to your body the way the Gonchee did. 

“It’s only for a couple of days. It’ll be like a mini vacation for me, not having to do any work.” 

You could feel Wolffe eying you from the side but refused to look his way. 

“I wish I could stay with you”, he said, more to himself than to you. “I mean someone. I wish someone, one of us, could stay with you.” 

You chuckled. It was rare to see this side of Wolffe, the side that corrected his words, that stuttered and almost seemed nervous. 

“I’d like you to stay. But you have a job to do and I can defend myself, should anything happen.” 

You placed a hand on his arm, and though you were sure he couldn’t feel it through the plastoid armor, he seemed to relax just a little bit. 

“We both know that I can take care of myself. Besides, it’s only for a couple of hours, I’ll be with you again before you know it.” 

He nodded, but the frown never left his face entirely. 

“I’ll have someone come in and check on you every now and then. It’s not without reason that we have to pretend to be married, we cannot be careful enough.” 

Wolffe’s tone told you that there was no use in arguing. And maybe he was right, if even your Master, who you knew would never disregard your ability to fend for yourself, thought it would be safe to always have a man, to always have Wolffe, with you, it couldn’t hurt to be safe rather than sorry. 

“Sounds reasonable.” 

Just as soon as the words left your mouth you stopped in front of the the small building the Gonchee had told you to go to. It looked ancient and primitive compared to the skyscrapers on Coruscant and shining starships you were used to, but through the open door you could spot pillows and blankets and a roaring fire inside. At least you’d be comfortable.

The women inside seemed to have heard you approaching, because most of them stopped their work and conversations to catch a glance at you and Wolffe. 

“I guess this is it”, you said more to yourself than your fellow Commander. He nodded nonetheless. 

“Be careful. Don’t do anything reckless.” 

You tried your best to swallow any remark since your usual answer to something like that would be exactly what Wolffe would describe as “reckless”. 

“I’ll see you soon”; you replied instead. And because you could still feel the eyes of the Gonchee women on you, you lifted yourself up on your tiptoes and pressed a gentle kiss to Wolffe’s cheek. After all, you had to make your marriage believable. 

The low noise Wolffe made shocked you for a split moment. It was a mixture between a grunt and a sigh that didn’t speak of surprise as much as... disbelief? You couldn’t quite place it. Though you tried not to think about it too much as your turned away from him and entered to hut, where the women started questioning you immediately. 

-------

True to his word Wolffe had sent someone of the pack to check in on you every ten minutes or so, but despite their reports that you were perfectly fine and just talking to the women of the village, Wolffe only felt a sense of relief when he saw you again himself. 

You were sitting next to Sinker on one of the many logs surrounding the fireplace. The rest of the pack as well as Plo Koon were either on logs or the ground nearby while the Gonchee, mostly the men but a few women as well, sat on the other side of the fire. 

As Wolffe stepped closer you lifted your head, and as always he couldn’t tell whether you had heard his footsteps or felt his force signature. 

The old Gonchee who had greeted you was the first to speak up. 

“Ah, the husband returns. Such a shame, I had thought I might have a chance with that lovely woman of yours after all.”

Wolffe knew that the polite thing to do would be to answer him, but one of the first things General Koon taught his men was that it was better to say nothing at all if you didn’t have anything nice to say. So he simply walked over to where you were sitting and squeezed himself into the space between you and the end of the log, which resulted in you being squished between him and Sinker. A scenario Wolffe, being the overly protective man he is, usually wasn’t too fond of, but in this the more of the Wolfpack were around you, the better. 

It was only when he felt you moving impossibly closer to him, when he smelled the last clinging bit of your sweet perfume, that had somehow endured the walk to the village and your time in the women's’ hut, that he was finally able to relax. You’d be right next to him, or at least one of his brothers or the General, for the rest of the night, meaning you were safe from the Gonchee for now. 

Suddenly he felt your lips right next to his ear, your breath hitting his skin. 

“If we wanna sell this marriage you cannot just sit there like a droid, Wolffe.” 

The way you whispered, almost purred, his name made shivers run down his spine. And though he tried to suppress it, your soft giggle told him that you’d noticed. 

With a small sigh he put his arm around your waist and pulled you even closer to him. So close that he could practically feel your body melting into his, though he tried not to think about how right it felt to have you in his arms, how your body seemed to perfectly fit right next to his. 

“Is this better?”, he whispered in your ear. Out of the corner of his eye he could see you biting your lip and even pressing your thighs together. He shook his head, he must have imagined that. It was probably just you trying to get comfortable in this new position. 

“How long have to two of you been married?”, one of the younger Gonchee asked. 

For just a moment you tensed beneath Wolffe’s arm before relaxing again. 

“Just a couple of months”, you replied. Your smooth lie impressed Wolffe, being raised by Plo Koon you were usually a fan of telling the truth and he couldn’t help but wonder where you learned to lie like that. 

“And you let your wife fight?”, another Gonchee asked, the disbelief clear in his voice. 

Wolffe sneaked a glance at you. How could anyone look at you and not see a warrior? Sure, your appearance might not be the most threatening, but wasn’t it obvious that the way you pressed your lips together spoke of determination? That you eyes told anyone who looked into them how much you’ve been through and how deeply you cared? That your hands were calloused from holding a lightsaber and yet soft enough to comfort a clone in distress? 

“It’s not up to me whether she fights or not.” 

A grumble of disagreement was heard from the assembled Gonchee, or at least from the men. 

“We are very fortunate to have a warrior as great as (Y/N) fighting besides us every day”, the General said after a while. For anyone who knew him it was obvious that he was trying to end the subject while defending you at the same time, but the Gonchee seemed to think of his statement as a challenge. 

“But what about children? How will she carry children if she is fighting? 

From the way your shoulders tensed underneath Wolffe’s arm he could tell that you were close to telling the Gonchee of once and for all, and apparently SInker on your other side could tell as well, because now he jumped into the conversation. 

“They’re still newly weds, children can wait until the honeymoon phase is over, don’t you agree?” 

The oldest Gonchee leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. 

“We do not care for such sentiments. Our women cook our food, sow our clothes, take care of our children and warm our beds, believe me, it’s easier that way. Perhaps you should try it, Commander.” 

For what felt like the thousandth time that day Wolffe looked at you. Of course you knew that you had to represent the Republic wherever you went, but usually that didn’t stop you from speaking up for what’s right. He wasn’t sure whether he should be impressed by or concerned about your self restraint. 

“It’s very different in our culture. We marry for love, most of the time at least”, you finally said. And if he hadn’t been staring at you already Wolffe would never have noticed the way your eyes flitted over to him when you said “love”. 

Several of the Gonchee opened their mouth to argue, but lucky for the entire 104th a few women carrying trays with various foods and drinks appeared and rendered the men silent. 

-------

Shortly after a near silent meal your Master stood up. 

“I suppose it would be best for us to call it a night. We will have to be up early tomorrow if we want to reach out ship again before nightfall.” 

The Gonchee leader stood up as well and slightly bowed his head before the Jedi. 

“Very well. We have prepared our assembly hut for you, I will show you the way.” He stopped for a moment and looked over to where you were still sitting between Wolffe and Sinker. “Though I know you follow different customs, we Gonchee do not allow women to sleep in a room with people they’re not related or married to, which is why we have also prepared an empty hut for the Commander and his wife. And I suppose they will need privacy so she can perform her marital duties. My son will show them the way” 

You were quite certain that at one point throughout the day your own rank as Commander had been mentioned, but even though you really wanted to correct the old Gonchee, you were tired of dealing with them all day and decided against it. Though the same could not be said for the Wolfpack. Several of them, including Wolffe and Sinker next to you as well as Boost next to Sinker, spoke up to correct him. 

A younger Gonchee, who you assumed was said son, stood up and looked at you with a twinkle in his eyes. 

“Alright, Commanders”, he said. The ironic way in which he pronounced the word made Wolffe roll his eyes, which by now you could tell even if you weren’t looking at him. “Follow me.” 

The two of you bid goodnight to the others and did as the Gonchee had said. The thought of probably having to share a bed with Wolffe crossed your mind for a moment, but it was gone as soon as it came. Though as soon as the son opened the door to a small hut, smaller than any you had seen before, it returned. 

The ceiling was low, the room was small and the only pieces of furniture were a small bed and a single bedside table. 

“It’s not much but it’ll do for the night”, the Gonchee said. Though the words were probably supposed to be apologetic, his tone was anything but. 

Wolffe, bowing his head due to the low ceiling, stepped into the hut while you remained outside. That, however, proved to be a mistake just a moment later, because the Gonchee stepped closer, closer than you would have wanted, and looked up at you. 

“You might rather spend the night in my room, it’s bigger and more comfortable and I could really use someone in my bed, especially a pretty human woman such as yourself.” 

Due to his words and the way he eyed you, especially with your private parts almost in his eyeline because of his short height, you wanted nothing more than to punch him. Maybe kick him. Maybe cut off something of his with your lightsaber. And if it hadn’t been for Wolffe you would have, and ruined your mission within a split second. 

But there was Wolffe, knight in plastoid armour protecting you from any rash decisions. He had left the hut and was now standing behind you, from where he put his arms around your middle and, you were sure, glared daggers at the Gonchee. 

“I suggest you leave my wife alone”, he growled and tightened his grip on you even more. 

You weren’t sure whether it was his words, the growl or his arms around you and your back to his chest, but something about his behaviour did something to you. Something that would make it a million times harder to share a room, share a bed, with him tonight. As if your crush on the Commander wasn’t already bad enough...

“I thought in your culture you love the one you marry and if you love this woman you wouldn’t want her to miss out on spending a night with a real man, would you?” 

If the situation wasn’t so tense you would have laughed. A real man? He was covered in fur! 

“Wolffe gives me everything I need and more. I wouldn’t leave him for any man in the entire galaxy.” 

It was only when the words left your mouth that you realized just how true they were. You really had to get that under control, having a crush on your fellow Commander was bad enough, you would not allow yourself to actually fall in love with him. You couldn’t jeopardize your friendship, your future as a Jedi knight, everything and everyone you’ve ever known for a man who you knew thought of you as a friend. 

The Gonchee looked you up and down one last time before glaring at Wolffe. 

“Then I suppose I should bid the two of you good night.”

And without another word he turned around and left the two of you alone. 

As soon as he was gone Wolffe let go of you and put some distance between you. 

“You should lie down, you must be tired after dealing with those idiots all day.” 

His words made you turn around to face him. Once again you just couldn’t read him. One moment he made your heart beat faster by actually acting like your husband and the next he pretended like you were nothing more than acquaintances. But for once you grew tired of this behaviour and refused to oblige, instead you stepped closer to him again and put a hand on one of the arm he had crossed across his chest. 

“I’m sure you’re just as tired, if not more. Let’s both go to bed.” 

He raised one eyebrow, but other than that he didn’t make a move to break contact with you again. 

“There’s only one bed.” 

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, a gesture you had often copied from Wolffe himself. 

“I know that. But we’re old enough and trust each other enough to sleep in the same bed for one night”, you argued. You didn’t know what made you do it, but you couldn’t resist the urge to lean even closer, stand up on your tiptoes and whisper into his ear. “You’re my husband, after all. And husband and wife usually sleep in the same bed. And how else are you supposed to protect me from the Gonchee?” 

You were too close to his ear to actually see his face, but you were sure he was smirking as he scoffed. 

“I thought you were plenty capable of handling the Gonchee yourself, Commander.” 

The way he said your title did something to you you’d rather not investigate any further. He was teasing, of course he was, but though two could play that game you were simply too tired.

“Just join me in bed when you’re ready. Otherwise you’ll have to sleep on the cold floor and I’ll have to explain to Master Plo why his Commander is sore all over tomorrow.” You could have left it at that, you should have, but you just had to add one more sentence. “And I can think of more pleasant ways to make you sore.” 

As you left him standing and entered the hut you could hear a choked noise coming from him. 

-------

“Finally decided to join me?”, you teased when Wolffe slipped underneath the cover. 

Wolffe didn’t answer. He couldn’t think of an answer, couldn’t think at all. Not with you so close, laying beside him, trusting him to sleep next to you, to defend you if any of the Gonchee were to try something while you were in your most defenseless state. 

“Wolffe”, you whispered after a moment of silence. 

Now he had no choice but to answer. 

“What is it?”, he grunted. And instantly regretted his gruff reply. This was his one chance to have you close, to forget that there was no way the two of you could ever be more than friends. 

“Thank you, for today. And tonight. I’m glad you’re my ‘husband’.” 

Wolffe wasn’t good with words, but in that moment he really had no idea what to say. 

“It really showed us what we’re missing, didn’t it? The chance to be in love, to be married and not have to hide your feelings”, you continued. 

For a second Wolffe’s heart stopped beating. Could you be talking about him not having to hide your feelings or was is just a general statement? Or did you maybe mean that you... No, that was impossible. 

“Anyways, we should get some sleep now, we have an early start tomorrow”, you concluded. 

From then on it only took a few seconds for your breathing to even out and just was Wolffe was about to sigh in relief that he no longer had to pretend that being near you wasn’t affecting him, you rolled over from your back onto your side and were now pressed up against Wolffe. 

It wasn’t just his heart that stopped now, his breathing did as well. How could he move even to take another breath with you so close, with your head resting underneath his chin, your legs intertwined with his and your arm lazily thrown over his torso. 

“Damn it”, he mumbled, though he instantly came to regret having made a sound. Luckily you were still fast asleep, if anything you cuddled up even closer to Wolffe. 

Slowly, more careful than he had ever been, he lifted his own arm to wrap it around your waist and pull you even closer. He let out a content sigh, breathing in the scent of your shampoo in the process. 

Wolffe knew for a fact that he wouldn’t get any sleep that night. This was his one chance to share a bed with you, and even though he would have loved to fall asleep and wake up next to you, he preferred cherishing every second of the night. 

-------

The next morning you were woken up not by the sun shining directly in your face, nor Wolffe’s sort snoring or the birds chirping outside, but by the unfamiliar voices speaking in what you recognized as the language of the Gonchee. 

You decided that it might be best to pretend to still be asleep, which is why you moved even closer to Wolffe and buried your head underneath his chin. In turn he pulled you closer to him, which made you realize that he had had one arm around you the entire time. You were almost too distracted by the warm and comforting presence of Wolffe next to you and the safety his arm around your waist guaranteed to notice that his breathing changed as he slowly woke up. Though like you Wolffe must have decided not to make it known that he was awake, it was only the more uneven breaths and the stiffening of his body that made it obvious. 

“Might I ask why you have invaded my commanders’ privacy?”, a familiar voice cut through the Gonchees’ conversation. And though you knew that it was safe to ‘wake up’ not that Plo Koon was here, both you and Wolffe still pretended to be fast asleep. Which had nothing to do with the fact that you simply didn’t want to face a reality where you weren’t cuddling in bed with Wolffe, nothing at all.  

“We... I....”, one of the Gonchee stammered. 

“We were here to wake them up”, another voice, who you recognized as the leader’s son, tried to explain. 

You both heard and sensed you master coming closer, and though part of you was worried what he may say, or worse think, about the position you and Wolffe were in, the bigger part was comforted by the fact that the Gonchee were either afraid enough or had enough respect for the Jedi to hurry out of the hut within seconds. 

“I know you’re awake.” Your Plo’s voice sounded amused rather than mad, though to be fair, in all your years of being his Padawan you had only seen him angry a handful of times, and almost never at you. 

It took a lot of self-restraint to fight the urge to cuddle closer to Wolffe for one last second before opening your eyes, but you managed. In moments like these you really wished Plo wouldn’t have to wear a mask, it would make it worlds easier to guess his feelings if you could just see his face. 

“I take it the two of you slept well?”, he asked. “The Gonchee certainly seemed to think so.” 

You didn’t know what to say. Was there anything you could say without letting either Wolffe or Plo Koon know just how well you slept with your fellow commander by your side? How much you never wanted to go to sleep without him in your arms again and how much you already missed him, now that he was just a few centimeters away? 

“Did you understand them, sir?”, Wolffe asked. It didn’t escape your notice that he didn’t answer the question either, though that could simply be due to the fact that Wolffe despised small talk, even with the man who was like a father to him. 

“I understood enough to know that they believe the two of you to be very much in love. As well as a few comments I’d rather not repeat, or think  about ever again”, Plo replied. As he spoke his eyes shifted between you and Wolffe, though you tried your best not to meet his gaze. You knew that he could already tell more than enough about your emotions through your force connection, if he saw your face, saw the love and admiration that must be visible in your eyes, he would know just how much you cared for Wolffe. 

“I’ll let you get ready then. Be outside in 10 minutes, we’re leaving in 20.” With those words Master Plo turned around, left the hut and left the two of you alone. 

You looked over at Wolffe, who, same as you, was leaning against the wobbly headboard. 

“For what it’s worth, I really did sleep well. Better than I had in a long time”, you said with a slight smile on your lips. Maybe this was overstepping a boundary, but right now you didn’t care. 

All Wolffe, in a very characteristic yet disappointing, fashion did was nod before standing up and starting to put on the first pieces of his armour. Other than you, who had actually changed into a pyjama while Wolffe had still been outside the hut last night, he had slept in his blacks and didn’t really have to change, or rather undress. 

You, however, did. At first you glanced around the hut, looking for some sort of privacy you knew you wouldn’t find. Then you considered your options: You could ask Wolffe to leave, or to simply turn around, while you would change and he’d do it with probably only an amused smile, or you could just change real quick while he was still busy with his armour. In the blink of an eye you decided on the second option, partly because Wolffe, as well as the other clones in the 104th, had seen you bloody and sweaty, with torn clothes and in various states of undress before, either in the medbay or when you had been in a particular hurry, but mostly you just didn’t want to send Wolffe away, not after having spent the night together. 

It was only when you had already changed into your regular trousers and just put on your bra when you came to regret your decision. 

“What the kriff do you think you’re doing?”, Wolffe asked, his tone mostly shocked, though there was an emotion in there you couldn’t quite decipher. 

“What does it look like? I’m changing.” 

You had previously had your back turned to Wolffe, but his question, or rather the way in which he asked, gave you the confidence boost needed to turn around and face him. 

“Would you rather I went out in my pyjama?” 

This trip really was proving to be most unusual, since Wolffe seemed to be speechless. 

“Of course not”, he finally said, though his voice did sound a bit off. “But you could have asked me to leave.” 

By now you really didn’t know where your confidence was coming from, but as if an autopilot you stepped closer to him, close enough to see the way his eyes, as well as his pupils, widened. 

“Maybe I didn’t want you to leave.” 

It was a bold statement, and maybe not entirely true, but it seemed to do the trick, since a smirk found its way to Wolffe’s lips. His eyes, previously focused on your eyes, flitted down to your chest for a moment before going back up again. 

“Then what is it you wanted me to do?”, he asked. “What do you want?” A clear challenge to either back down or take a leap. A challenge you shouldn’t accept, but found yourself really wanting to. 

“I want you to be here, with me. I want you to be with me wherever I go. I want you next to me in bed when I go to sleep at night and when I wake up the next morning. I want you to always look at me the way you’re doing right now. I want you to touch me and kiss me and make me yours. Maker, Wolffe, I want you!” 

The words were out of your mouth without thinking. Just like that, you had voiced every thought running through your brain, made yourself vulnerable to Wolffe’s reaction, whatever it might be. Though you had never expected it to be an arm, already covered in plastoid, to wrap around your waist and a hand, warm and steady, on the back of your neck.   

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that”, he mumbled before crashing his lips against yours. 

Though you didn’t have much experience, you knew that this was what a kiss was supposed to be. It was not a clashing of teeth, like your first kiss, nor hesitant and barely there, like your second, but a perfect mixture. Wolffe wasn’t rough, though there was just enough force to tell you that he could be if that’s what you wanted. His lips worked against yours as if they were made to, teeth softly grazing your bottom lip a few times before biting down. He nibbled on your lip, then caressed it with his tongue before giving the same treatment to your top lip. Some time during the kiss your hands had found their way into his hair, pulling it and pulling him closer at the same time, finally feeling the soft strands between your fingers and causing Wolffe to moan at the sensation. By the time his tongue made its way into your mouth you could have sworn that your legs were made of jelly, that you had moved on to whatever came after this life, that this was a dream. 

Even when Wolffe pulled away to catch his breath you didn’t dare to open your eyes, afraid of the reality you would find if you did. 

You heard Wolffe’s low chuckle before his lips were on you again. This time he gently kissed your cheeks, the corners of your lips, before making his way down. He spread small bites on your jaw and then followed his teeth with his tongue, soothing the slight sting. Though it was a spot high up on your neck, just beneath your jaw, that finally got a reaction from you. You tightened your grip on his hair as his lips ghosted over the spot and moaned when they pressed harder. 

“So needy”, Wolffe chuckled.

All you did to reply was pull his head up again for another kiss, one that was faster and more heated than the last. Though as soon as you pulled away his lips found their way to the same spot again. He began to suck while at the same time pulling you back to the bed. You wondered how he had enough sense to sit down and pull you into his lap, all your thinking had abandoned you the moment his lips first met yours. 

“Wolffe, I - kriff, stop -”, you panted. 

As soon as you said the word he pulled away, though his hands still had a grip on you, it loosened and he looked at you with nothing but love and lust in his eyes. 

“What is it, mesh’la?” 

For a moment you leaned your forehead against his shoulder before straightening up again and looking at him. 

“As much as I’d love for you to leave hickeys all over, we both know that you can’t. No one can know this ever happened”, you told him, making sure to put just enough authority in your voice to make him take you seriously. 

A sly grin was on his lips as soon as the words left your mouth. 

“I know, cyare”, he reassured you. He leaned closer again, though this time his lips didn’t move to your neck, but to your ear. “But later I’ll mark you in places where no one but me will see.” 

The thought alone send shivers down your spine and heat to your core, but it also placed a smile on your face. 

“Looking forward to it”, you said and placed a quick peck on his lips. Though you should have known that Wolffe wouldn’t leave it at that. He pulled you closer once again, the hand on your waist now moving upwards and to the front until it cupped your breast. Gently, in stark contrast to the way he bit down on your lip, he squeezed and massaged in before moving on to the other one. 

Another moan escaped your lips, this one even louder. 

“Careful, we don’t want anyone to hear you, do we?” 

You were about to nod in agreement when an idea popped into your head. 

“I bet hearing me would make the Gonchee really believe that we’re married.” 

Wolffe chuckled as he once again moved his hands to your waist. 

“I think they already believe us, cyare.” 

-------

It had taken the two of you a while to finally separate and make yourselves look presentable, and only when you heard Sinker calling for the last men to hurry up did you finally leave the hut. 

Now, on your way back to the ship, the two of you were finally together again after you had talked to Plo Koon and Wolffe to the other clones for a while. 

“You know, I’m really glad it was you I was fake married to”, you confessed in a whisper. 

Wolffe’s hand brushed against yours for a second while he chuckled. 

“You know, maybe one day we can scratch the ‘fake’.” 

He saw the surprise in your eyes as you looked up to him. Truth be told, he hadn’t meant to say that in that moment, but he knew he wanted it to be true. Some day, when the war was over, if you would still want him by your side by then. 

“I’d like that. I’d like that very much”, you said with a smile. “But first, I think there’s something else we need to do, once we have some time and privacy.” 

Wolffe knew exactly what you were talking about, and though he couldn’t wait to feel you, to hear you and touch you again, he also couldn’t wait for the day he would get to call you his wife for real. Maybe, after such a long time of denying his feelings and then refusing to act on them, this trip to the Gonchee village and pretending to be married had been good for something after all. 

I tried to put a little bit of everything (and by ‘everything’ I mean some of my favourite tropes) into this story, I hope you enjoyed it. 

As always, feedback is greatly appreciated. <3

[cherrycheridarling]

"that was painfully sexist" | t.h.

marvel cast x actress!reader

warnings: sexism and swearing

summary: at a panel for the new avenger's film, the questions differ drastically between the female and male actors on stage.

wc: 1.4k

"Okay, a microphone is coming your way, sir."

"Hi! I'm Leonard with Pop Times Blog. My question is for Y/N." your eyes found the bearded man who stood amongst the crowd of reporters.

You nodded, signalling for him to continue, "Playing Silk or Cindy Moon must've came with a lot of challenges. One of them being the costume you are in for most of the film. Can you speak about that and how it fit?" he paused at your skeptical expression, "Like, we all know the suit is skin tight, so did you eat anything special or workout a lot and are you able to wear anything underneath it? Or do you wear a thong and no bra?"

You let out an unenthusiastic chuckle at his question. Beside you, you could hear your cast mates scoffing under their breath. It was common for the women of the MCU to get asked such questions and it saddened you that people normalized such a thing.

Leaning forward, you clasped your hands together and smiled before Robert reached behind Tom Holland and tapped your shoulder, "Would you like me to say something?"

You shook your head, but gave him a grateful grin before returning to the 'man' that asked you such a question, while maintaining eye contact you spoke, "Well, I think the most difficult part about wearing the Silk costume is taking it off after a long day because of how sweaty I get after shooting," you began to fan yourself dramatically, "It all just clings to my body like a second skin and since I am completely nude underneath, it just adds to the problem." sarcasm dripped from your lips as your cast mates snickered at your words.

You quietly laughed to yourself, "I'm only kidding. That question seemed like such a joke that I presumed you expected a joking answer." you cleared your throat, "In all seriousness, it's an honour wearing the suit and I did visit the gym and do some physical fitness regularly to prepare for the role, as did all my cast mates. As for what I wore underneath," you grinned cheekily, having too much fun messing with the reporter, "A Spider-Man onesie was my go-to."

The whole room let out laughs at your words as Tom grabbed your hand and gave you a small squeeze, feeling sorry that you had to answer such absurd questions.

"I hope everyone doesn't sexualize Cindy Moon. She's only a teenager in the film, so keep it in your pants people. That shit is illegal." Anthony pointed an accusing finger at the crowd.

"Thank you for your thoughtful question, Leonard!" Scarlett spoke up, "I hope you got the answer you were looking for."

"Okay, next person."

You sat back in your seat and fiddled with Tom's fingers as the questions were asked towards your cast mates.

"You handled that impressively well, love." Tom whispered in your ear.

You gave him a smile and a shrug before your name got called again, "My question is for Y/N and Tom Holland." a lady with curly blonde hair stood up, "Since Silk and Spider-Man's abilities are very similar, did you two bond over that during shooting or did it cause some rivalry between your characters due to the similarities?"

You felt a wave of relief at the question, thankful that it wasn't another sexist one. Tom looked at you before answering.

"Yeah, yeah. We bonded a lot over that fact and I don't think it caused any rivalry between us. I hope not." he chuckled before you leaned towards the mic.

"No, no. No rivalry. Just a lot of banter about whose character is stronger and who swings around better. It's a lot of fun having someone on set whose stunts are basically the same as yours. And Tom and I have both agreed that Silk is faster and better than Spider-Man." you said that last part quickly drawing laughs and a gasp from Tom.

He looked at you incredulously, "Not true! Spider-Man's suit is so much cooler than Silk's." he huffed like a child.

You smirked, "Who makes their webbing in a high school chemistry class and who has organic silk coming out of her fingertips that she also used to create her own suit?"

Your friends laughed at the banter beside you before Sebastian started to speak, "I have to agree with Y/N on this one. Silk also has that cool ass eidetic memory."

Chris Evans agreed, "And her Silk Sense is a thousand times stronger than Spider-Man's Spidey Sense."

"Isn't she able to know who an attacker is before she even sees them?" Hemsworth asked to which everyone nodded.

"Sorry, Spidey. Silk's just a top tier hero." Robert patted his shoulder as Tom sulked.

The questions began again as the laughter died down. You leaned over to Tom's ear, "Still love the actor who plays Spider-Man even if his character is inferior to mine." he shook his head with a smile at your words.

Questions ranged from the generic ones of the funniest moments on set to who's most likely to become a villain. Your nerves died down as no incompetent person asked another sexist question. Until one did.

"I have a question for Y/N." she was short with jet black hair, "Being around all these attractive men must be a challenge for you as a young female adult. It couldn't have been easy to control yourself around them. Have you had any sexual relationships with any of them or thought about engaging in any?"

Your jaw hung open at her words and before you could muster up a retort, Tom let his anger get the best of him. Was it his anger, his jealousy or his protectiveness? A mix of all three.

"That was painfully sexist." he spoke into the microphone. "I don't see how any of that is relevant to the film. Y/N is an outstanding actress and it's outrageous that you decide to focus on who she fucks rather than her talent."

"What in the actual fuck did she just ask?" Sebastian added, making you laugh.

Chris Evans spoke up next, "Indeed. I thought this was a promotion for the movie not a real life dating app."

Benedict chuckled, "I fail to see how Y/N's private life holds any relevancy to this panel or the film itself."

"It's twenty-nineteen, people! Leave your sexist ass shit at home!" Anthony exclaimed drawing claps from the cast.

Elizabeth shook her head, "I've had my fair share of inappropriate questions, but nothing as horrid as that."

"First y'all ask about her underwear, now you ask about her sex life? Jesus Christ." Scarlett pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Seriously, she's like a daughter to me. That was incredibly disrespectful." Robert added with a disappointed head shake.

Similar comments were added by the rest of the cast as you felt an overwhelming amount of love wash over you. You were so unimaginably grateful for the people next to you.

"You don't have to answer that." Paul Bettany reminded you.

You shook your head and cleared your throat, "Thank you, guys." you looked to your cast mates, "But I'll answer. No, I have not. This cast is my second family and I've grown greatly as a person with them. I'm immensely thankful for the opportunity to call them my friends. And I agree, these men sitting up here with me are undoubtedly attractive, but they are also a great pain in the ass at times," everyone laughed at your choice of words, "And have I thought about having sex with any of them? Nope. Just Scar, Zoe and Liz." you finished with a wink as the room clapped for you.

You couldn't help but to feel a slight bit of sympathy for the woman. Her question was, without a doubt, uncalled for and unbelievably sexist, but the comments from the cast must've made this her most embarassing moment.

"I'm sure you meant no harm with your question. But a little heads up for next time; most actors prefer to talk about their career and their films rather than who they are laying in bed with. But thank you for coming out. I hope you enjoy the rest of your day." you gave her a genuine smile as she cowered back into her seat.

Robert once again reached over and gave your shoulder a squeeze, proud of how you handled the situation.

Tom interlaced your fingers with his and rubbed small circles on your knuckles.

You really were at home with these people and you couldn't have asked for a better family.

[arthurmorganwateringhole]

Why does it bother you that people hate Mary? I personally like her, but let people do what they want lol

I actually got this ask AGES ago after one of my Mary defense posts, and I saw this and kinda felt exhausted.

Well, I can answer now. I don't wanna repeat too much of what I said about Mary in the past. Really this post says all you need to know about why people are being unfair to Mary and how their hatred is usually based on misreadings of her character and dialogue. But I should clarify that I never once said you're not allowed to hate Mary. I in fact do not care what people think of Mary. I simply answered an ask thrown my way-- one that called me delusional.

But if I'm being honest, it does bother me to see how polarizing and hated she is. It's concerning bc Red Dead fandom so blatantly forgives male characters their faults and sins (or worse, flanderizes them), but Mary says one unpleasant word, and suddenly she's controversial.

I also want to point out that part of my issue is that the game itself doesn't present Mary as a bad guy or a character made to spark debate. She's very much laden with the tropes of a star-crossed romance, with class difference and bad timing preventing her from being with the man she loves. Like Arthur, she is also held back by a dysfunctional relationship with her father. I've said in the linked post above and in other places in my blogs that RDR2 presents many parallels to Mary's situation, and the women in those cases are always treated as tragic and sympathetic characters.

So imo hating her or coming away from her missions saying "I have complicated feelings toward Mary" is missing the point of her narrative function and seems to willfully ignore how the game is vocally on her side when it comes to her judgment wrt Arthur and his life. If you have a problem with Mary because of how she speaks or asserts herself, then you have to square that with why you don't hate the men with similar levels of assertiveness as much as you hate Mary. Barring that, ask yourself why you're not treating her like a character written by real human beings. If you have issues with her writing, then take it up with the writing staff. Point out, from an analytic perspective, why you find her characterization weak. IMO, I don't think Mary is badly written at all-- just underdeveloped (i.e., I would like more backstory on her to help flesh out and add nuance to her situation). But people who hate Mary won't treat what they oppose as writing flaws. They will praise RDR2 to high hell and back, calling it a perfect game only to then take issue with Mary as if she was a real person with her own sentience and existence independent of the game and its writing. Like no, RDR2 can't have perfect writing and then have a character you hate like she burned your crops. Pick a struggle!

[undertale-data]

[Image Description: an Undertale textbox with “INTRODUCTION AND DEMOGRAPHICS” in all caps in its middle. To its left and right are a radar screen and an egg, sun, and "WED" from the Dating Hub. End I.D.]

Our sample size consisted of a total of 2651 responses. We did not set any sort of age restriction to take the survey, and no other qualification than self identifying yourself as part of the Undertale fandom.

[Image Description: a pie chart titled “AGE OF UNDERTALE FANS”. In clockwise order, the results: 31%, or 812 responders, are 13-17 years old; 44% or 1160 are 18-24; 15%, or 398, are 25-30; 6%, or 158, are 31-40; 0%, or 6, are 41-50; 3%, or 91, preferred not to answer, and 1%, or 25, are 12 and below. End I.D.]

The age group most represented is composed of people between 18 to 24 years old (also known as emerging adults), corresponding to 44% of all participants. They are followed by teenagers aged 13 to 17 years old (31%) and young adults aged 25 to 30 years old (15%)

(Many more demographics under the cut.)

[Image Description: a pie chart titled “GENDER OF UNDERTALE FANS”. In clockwise order, the results: 374, or 14%, are male; 1144, or 43%, are female; 789, or 30%, are nonbinary; 167, or 6%, identify as ‘other’, and 177, or 7%, prefer not to say. End I.D.]

In terms of gender, most people identified as female with a total of 43%, followed by nonbinary with 30% and male with 14%.  A significant amount of people responded with “Other,” explaining their identity (or questioning) more in depth.

[Image Description: a pie chart titled “UNDERTALE FANDOM AND LGBT+ IDENTITY”. In clockwise order, the results: 1949, or 73%, identify as LGBT+; 293, or 11%, do not identify as LGBT+; 280, or 11%, are questioning; and 129, or 5%, prefer not to say. End I.D.]

Considering the great amount of LGBT+ representation present in Undertale, we decided to ask people whether they identify themselves as part of this community. The majority, 73%, has declared to be a part of it. It is relevant to add that 5% chose not to say, and 11% were questioning. It is possible that media containing well developed representation draws more people to it; many people said that the reason they liked certain characters was being able to feel represented as a minority.

[ID: a pie chart titled: “LOCATIONS OF UNDERTALE FANS”. In clockwise order its results: 1788 responders, or 67%, are from North America; 420 responders, or 16%, are from Europe; 141 responders, or 5%, are from Asia; 94 responders, or 4% are from South America; 83 responders, or 3%, are from Australia; 11 responders, or 0% are from the Pacific Islands; 22 responders, or 1% are from “Other” locations; 92 responders, or 4%, selected ”Prefer not to say.” End of ID.]

The internet has made the game known all over the world, which motivated us to look into the way its fans are distributed around the globe. It is important to consider that since this survey is in English, people were more likely to respond to it if they understood the language, whether it is their native language or not (like Vessel #1, who’s writing this paragraph). It would be interesting if other communities did a similar exercise in the future by translating the survey. 

Having said that, we present the results. To get these numbers some of the answers were distributed into their corresponding existing group, and at least three new categories were created.

North America: 1788 votes 

Europe: 420 

Asia: 141 votes

South America: 94 votes

Australia: 83 votes

The most represented area is North America, which is no surprise considering it’s composed by a majority of native English speakers. It should also be noted that considering Toby Fox is from the US, it makes sense that people with a similar cultural background would more likely hear about Undertale and join the fandom. Europe follows with 420 votes, which could be due to their usage of the English language either as a native language or a frequently taught second one. Asia has a similar situation, however, if we take global population estimates (e.g: 141 per 4.561 billion in the case of Asia compared to Europe with 420 fans in an area with a population of around 746 million people), we can see that the density of Asian fans is drastically lower. After that we have both South America and Australia with a similar amount of votes. In those cases, knowledge of the English language may also factor into the density. Common social media used around the world could also be a factor but we do not have enough data to draw any conclusions.

92 people preferred not to specify and 50 people answered the survey with “Other”, giving their explanation. A few of these responses were put in bigger categories (Canada is in North America, for example). Besides them, the most notable group were Pacific Islanders, making up 11 people, 3 more than Africa. Due to their sizes, further investigation is needed to know if this is a replicable result or just the product of the places the survey was able to reach this time.

[Image Description: a pie chart titled “YEAR FANS FIRST EXPERIENCED UNDERTALE”. In clockwise order, its results: 937 responders, or 35%, experienced it in 2015; 687, or 26%, experienced it in 2016; 231, or 9%, experienced it in 2017; 181, or 7%, experienced it in 2018; 123, or 5%, experienced it in 2019; 145, or 5%, experienced it in 2020; 88, or 3%, experienced it in 2021; 231, or 9%, don’t know when they experienced it, and 25, or 1%, have never experienced Undertale. End I.D.]

We asked about the exposure to the source material. After all, to be a fan of something, you should know about it. The biggest proportion of fans experienced Undertale for the first time in 2015 and 2016, with those two years amounting for more than half of our sample. As for people who have only started playing during this year, they represent 3% of all participants.

[Image Description: a pie chart titled “YEAR FANS FIRST EXPERIENCED DELTARUNE”. In clockwise order, its results: 1585 responders, or 60% of those responding, experienced Deltarune in 2018; 275, or 10%, experienced Deltarune in 2019; 213, or 8%, experienced it in 2020; 126, or 5%, experienced it in 2021; 115, or 4%, don’t know; 253, or 10%, have not played but want to; 77, or 3%, have not played and don’t plan to; and 7, or 0%, do not know what Deltarune is. End I.D.]

Many people are familiar with Deltarune as well. Most of them played the first chapter of the game as it was released in 2018, and other people followed in the next few years. Among the people that didn’t play, 253 manifested interest in playing in the future, while 77 stated they knew of the game’s existence but did not plan on playing it.

[Image Description: a pie chart titled "HOW FANS FOUND UNDERTALE". In clockwise order, its results: 870 responders, or 33%, saw someone play it online; 576 responders, or 22%, were introduced by a friend; 539, or 20%, saw fancontent first; 195, or 7%, read reviews or recommendations on social media; 63, or 3%, came through the Kickstarter before release; 50, or 2%, came through a different fandom; 34, or 1%, came by following Toby Fox, Temmie Chang, or other collaborators; 221, or 8%, came through another way; and 101, or 4%, don't remember how. End I.D.]

33% of responders found Undertale by watching someone play it online.  The next largest categories were those who were introduced by friends or saw fancontent first, comprising 22% and 20%, respectively.  These statistics are indicative of the love that fans have for Undertale: they want to share the game with others, whether by creating and sharing fancontent, or just by talking about the game positively enough to inspire others to give it a chance.  In the “other” category, many fans mentioned specific fanworks or AUs as their reasoning for giving Undertale a chance.  Other common answers in the “other” category were through the soundtrack, through memes, through connections to Homestuck, and through curiosity about the infamous fandom.  One humorous response that stuck out said, “I was searching for the word ‘sand’ and had wrote ‘sans’ by wrong.”

[randomreadingtimewithtsuki]

For the valentines matchup event thing!!

I’d love to get one from Bleach.

I’m a girl, short and small (people call me tiny a lot hahah) with blonde hair and blue eyes. I’m generally always smiling but I’m very awkward around people I never quite know how to interact with them. I love to learn things and make things - especially working on Cosplays. I’m a really creative person and just sit by my machine singing and watching shows while sewing. I’m a bit more quiet and reserved when I don’t know people, but once I’m close to someone I open up a lot. People tend to see me as “the smart one” and a happy yet shy/awkward person I guess??? I do have anxiety and depression and most of the things people see aren’t always the way they seem but yeah. Describing myself is always hard lmao. And as for the character — male or female doesn’t matter at all. The characters in bleach are amazingly written and despite me being a lesbian irl I am down BAD for both men and women in bleach lol

Ty for your time <3 hopefully this will make valentines hurt less this year and get my mind off things

Don't worry sweety! You did well! I hope i could help you a bit with this piece....

I match you up with…..

Harribel!

• Ok, I will explain this. I am not gonna lie, it was a close tie.

• But I see her as a good match for you because:

• She is a calm person and I personally think it is a blessing to have someone so calm when anxiety comes rolling down!

• She also would enjoy listening to you singing while you do your stuff.

• It's like the perfect combo! Watching you happily sewing and singing is so soothing for her. Is a moment of peace, a moment of just you two you know? That moment you just enjoy the company.

• She loves to see what you make.

• She is down on being your mannequin or model.

• If you are concentrating on a specific part of the cosplay, she would not bother you.

• But she would bring you some water and snacks.

• May ask you to stop if you stay without eating for too long.

• She would be a little… shy? To dance with you, but she loves to watch you. She thinks you are very gracious and beautiful!

• She may cosplay with you if you ask her. Doesn't mind at all.

• If you ever feel overwhelmed by someone or a situation she would help you on the spot - Hiding you behind her.

• She actually likes when you hide behind her.

• But! She won't face all situations for you! She loves you and all, but she also wants you to be more independent of her. So if you say something a little odd or your awkward side shows up, she won't intervene.

• If the other person mocks you because of it? They are done. Nobody is messing with you.

• That doesn't mean she will force you to interact with people! No, she wants you comfortable and happy.

• Believe it or not, I do think that gives a boost of confidence to be yourself.

• Having someone that loves you for you? And you can say and do whatever because you feel comfortable and safe!

Now for the little scenario:

Tsuki's note: For this, I had folk song run through my head while writting. it's called Se está rua fosse minha, a Brazilian song. If you have any similar folk song or cultural/ classic song let me know! I would love to know! Anyway! On to it!

Imagine: Spending a peaceful afternoon with Harribell.

• You were just there, finishing a few touches of your new piece. You had to do those last details by hand - it was a very delicate detail!

• As you sew, you sing. A nostalgic song, you knew the lyrics from the heart.

• You were seated on a couch like furniture, near a window to get as much clarity as possible. Of course being Hueco Mundo it was dark and the lamp helped a lot.

• Harribel heard you singing and she made her way to you.

• She stopped at the door of the room you were sitting at. She leaned on the doorframe.

• You didn't seem to notice her standing there, so she carefully walked to you.

• When she got close she kneeled in front of you and gently placed a hand on your knee.

• That took your attention off your work for a bit - her expression looked blank, but she was actually smiling.

• She said how beautiful your work was looking.

• You smiled and said you couldn't wait to show her the finished deal.

• She got up from her position and sat beside you.

• You resumed your singing and work.

• Harribel silently listened to you.

• But as soon as you seemed to be done, tied the final knot, she layed on your lap.

• Her head softly rested on your legs and a sigh soon left her lips.

• You couldn't help but run your fingers on her beautiful blond hair.

• Another sigh.

• You hummed the song again and Harribel closed her eyes.

• Soon enough she had fallen asleep. A rare sight! She rarely gets so relaxed and allows herself to be so vulnerable.

• A rare lovely sight, that only you could see.

•

I Hope you have enjoyed what I had to offer! Thank you for participating!

Let me know what I think!