#god i just want a boyfriend who isn't a piece of shit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

phoward89 · 11 months ago

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This is based on this ask.

Coryo is a hands on dad in this. (Thank God, since he was a real piece of shit in the last daddy!Coriolanus one shot)

Everyone says that pregnancy is a beautiful experience. Women are supposed to look radiant and glowing as they're round with the new life they're growing inside of them.

What nobody tells you is that your feet and ankles swell, your back aches, you pee more than a race horse, you balloon into the size of a beluga whale, and your mood swings are all over the place because of the pregnancy hormones. Oh, and you crave the weirdest things.

Nope, people don't tell you that. You had to learn that the hard way. At least you had your husband by your side during everything.

Coriolanus is a very busy man, being the youngest President of Panem, but he always made time in his busy schedule for you. To check in on you and make sure you were okay. After all, it's his fault you're in the condition you're in.

Okay…

Well…

You both agreed to try for a baby during the honeymoon, so it technically wasn't his fault you're big and miserable right now.

Honestly, Coriolanus had baby fever and replaced your birth control pills with sugar pills a month or so before the wedding, so you were bound to get pregnant right away.

Anyways, you're currently so big that you can't do anything by yourself. Hell, you can barely even walk anymore. You're practically waddling like a duck.

And you're so emotional. You've been crying at the drop of a hat lately. Anything, literally anything, can put you into a crying drag. It was emotionally exhausting.

Your husband, the president, was surprisingly supportive of you. He doted on you. Even when you were complaining about being uncomfortable or crying your eyes out for the umpteenth time, Coryo was right by your side trying to comfort you.

Despite his cold, calculated, stoic nature that everyone saw, he was soft and loving towards you. But only you.

Because he loves you more than anything in this world.

Despite vowing to never let himself fall in love again, when you became his personal secretary when he was Senator Snow he fell for you.

It was hard not to. Your beauty paired with your personality was hard for him to resist.

So, he broke a promise to himself that he made at 18 or 19 years old. But, when it comes to love it just happens. Vowing to never fall in love's a foolish notion because one can't control who they fall in love with.

It just happens.

But, unfortunately, when he fell in love with you it wasn't when you were available. You had a long time boyfriend. And since Coriolanus wanted you to be his, he got rid of your boyfriend.

Permanently.

With poison.

And then a few months after your boyfriend was out of the picture, Coriolanus wooed you. He asked you out with pretty words and a single white rose. Of course you accepted.

Then, when he was campaigning to become Panem's youngest president, he proposed. And after he won the election, becoming President Snow, he married you; made you his First Lady Snow.

And now you're about to become a mother, another thing he had a hand in the making of.

The only problem was that your due date’s come and gone.

And you feel absolutely miserable.

“Darling, I just got off the phone with Dr. Wellock about your situation of being overdue.” Your husband, Coryo, announced as he walked into the sunroom room you were lounging in.

“What did he say?” You asked as the platinum blonde made his way over to your side.

“He says that an induction isn't done until the expecting mother is anywhere between 10-12 days overdue.” He said, taking a seat next to you on the sofa.

“So that means I have at least 5 more days of feeling miserable?” You asked, feeling tears begin to well up.

“Unfortunately, yes, my darling rose.” Coryo told you while wrapping an arm around you. Pulling you into his chest, he said, “The doctor gave me a list of things that can help to induce you naturally.” Rubbing your lower back, knowing that it was bothering you lately, you husband told you, “I'm having the kitchen staff cook the foods that'll help naturally induce you, Y/N.”

Coryo was a godsend. He was looking after you when he should be busy running the country. He didn't have an easy job.

He was the President of Panem.

And here he was catering to you. Offering you comfort and gentle reassurances during your difficult time of being overdue and feeling uncomfortable.

Suddenly, you felt overwhelmed. Felt like a burdened. And, before you could even control yourself, you started to cry into your husband's chest.

“What's wrong, little dove?” Coriolanus asked, threading his long fingers thru your hair, trying to soothe you.

“I feel bad that you're here with me instead of running the country. You’re the president, you should be working, not by my side giving me backrubs and helping me get from point A to point B all the time.”

“Y/N, darling, I might be the president, but I'm also your husband. As your husband, I put you and our unborn child before anything, including work. The wellbeing of my family will always come first, Panem second.”

“How did I get so lucky to have you?” You asked between sobs.

Because he whacked your Academy Sweetheart.

But, Coriolanus couldn't tell you that. No, that's a secret he'll take with him to the grave. Along with all the other various murders he's committed and will keep on committing in order to be all powerful and filthy rich.

No, instead the president just presses a kiss to your head and tells you, “Dumb luck, I suppose.” Rubbing circles into your lower back, causing soft moans to fall from your lips, Coriolanus smiled, “But I consider myself the lucky one for being your husband. There's no other woman in all of Panem that I could ever see myself loving as deeply as I love you.”

Sniffing and wiping at your eyes, you say, “Don't tell me sweet stuff like that or I'll never stop crying.”

Unfortunately, labor inducing foods didn't work. So, Coryo told you that the doctor told him that sex, nipple stimulation, and orgasms could help induce labor. You laughed at him, saying that had to be a lie since, despite your huge size, you were still very sexually active with him. Coriolanus just shrugged, claiming that's what the doctor told him.

You don't know if it was from sex or just your time to go into labor, but in the middle of the night (after having late night sex with your husband) you woke up with labor pains and a soaked nightgown. When you woke up Coriolanus, telling him that it was (finally) time and that you were in labor, he quickly grabbed your baby bag and rushed you to the hospital.

The man, being a very devoted husband and father to be, drove you himself. You feared that Coryo would drag you to the hospital in his pajamas, but much to your relief he did toss on some clothes before taking you.

Once at the hospital, since you're the First Lady of Panem, you were put on VIP status and given a private room with a window view of the Rockies. You didn't really care since you were in the worst pain of your entire life, but it was a nice gesture. Coriolanus sure did enjoy the special treatment you were getting. Remarking how only the best for his love would do.

The president never left your side during your labor. He wiped your sweaty forehead with a cool cloth, buzzed the nurses for ice chips and pain meds for you, and he let you squeeze his hand to the point he thought his bones would break whenever you had a particularly painful contraction.

The hospital staff just melted at the sight of President Coriolanus Snow doting on his First Lady Y/N Snow. The nurses were swooning everytime they heard Coryo tell you, “You’re doing so well, darling.”, “I know it hurts, little dove, but soon we'll have our baby and it'll be well worth it.”, “Squeeze my hand as hard as you need to, my darling rose. I served as a peacekeeper once, I can handle you breaking my hand while in labor pains.”

You were sitting up, pushing hard every 5 seconds, around 3 times per contraction. Coryo was right by your side, holding your hand and telling you, “You're doing wonderful, darling. Just a few more pushes and we'll be parents.”

The nurse in the room fought back the urge to swoon at the president’s words while the doctor just assured you that Coriolanus was right, that he could see the baby's head and after another push the baby would be born.

So, gathering all of the strength you could muster after pushing for what felt like hours, you did one last, hard push.

Your baby came out with a healthy set of lungs. Crying before even needing a spank to the butt.

Dr. Wellock held the baby up in the air, only to announce, “It's a girl!”

A girl. You and Coryo had a baby girl.

Tears of love welled up in your eyes as Coriolanus’ baby blues shines with pride as he whispered, “A baby girl.”, before pressing a soft kiss to your chapped lips.

“Mister President, Sir, would you like to cut the cord?” Dr. Wellock asked your husband as a nurse helped you deliver the placenta.

“Yes, I would like to.” Coriolanus replied before standing up and going over to the doctor. Silently, the doctor passed him the scissors and he cut the cord. After cutting the cord, your husband returned to your side while the doctor passed the baby over to the nurse to be cleaned and wrapped in a blanket.

“She's beautiful, darling.” Coriolanus told you as the doctor quickly cleaned you up.

“Does she have your platinum blonde hair?” You asked, a curious smile splitting your face wide open.

“Yes.” The president nodded. “She has both my light blonde hair and blue eyes.”

“You're going to be beating all the boys off with a stick in about, eh, 13 or so years.” You knowingly giggled right as the nurse appeared with your bundle of joy wrapped in a soft pink blanket and matching hat.

Handing you your daughter, the nurse asked, “What's her name?”

“Cersei.” You and Coryo answered at the same time, looking at your daughter with nothing but love.

Honestly, you were a bit nervous about how Coryo would be as a father since, after all, he had a lot on his plate as the president of the country. But it turns out that you didn't have anything to worry about. Coriolanus was a great father. He was very hands-on despite his strenuous and busy job being President of Panem.

The president always made time for his daughter and, of course, for you.

And when you went out in public, he was always by your side when wheeling your baby in the stroller. So many paparazzis would hide and flash pictures of President Snow with your daughter because it was the only way to get a picture of them together. Coryo never used Cersei for photo ops or publicity stunts. In fact he rarely talked about her at all interviews other then the general and polite answers of, “Oh, she's doing well.”, “Cersei's a happy girl.”, and “She’s hitting all of her milestones.”

Honestly, Coryo didn't like to talk too much about his daughter because he didn't want her in the limelight. He chose to become the president and you chose to become his first lady. You both knew the fame that came with it. But Cersei was born into it and your husband, President Coriolanus Snow, wanted her to have as normal of a childhood as possible.

And then, when your daughter was 3, you got pregnant again. Well, you and Coriolanus weren't trying, but weren't preventing either.

You were too far along yet, just nearing your 4th month. You knew that soon you'd be blowing into the size of a balloon tho.

But you weren't thinking about that right now.

Right now, you were just smiling at the sight of your daughter curled up on your husband's lap as he read her a book during one of his breaks from his office in the presidential wing of the mansion.

“Daddy?” Your daughter, whose platinum blonde hair was in little piggy tales, asked- causing your husband to pause in his reading.

It was cute how Coriolanus melted the first time he was called Dada and decided to let his daughter call him Daddy as she grew despite telling you over and over again during your pregnancy with her that he was going to be called father or nothing at all.

She's like Cersei has your husband wrapped around her finger.

“Yes, princess?” Coryo asked your daughter, looking at her with a genuine smile.

“Mama’s here.” She excitedly told your husband with a big smile on her face.

Coryo looked up, only to tell your daughter, “Oh, so she is.” Waving you into the room, your husband said, “Come in and sit down, darling. You don't need to stand in the doorway.”

“Oh, don't mind me, I was just walking down the hall and thought that I'd just check in on my favorite people while on my way to get a snack.” You told your husband, shrugging off his offer of you joining him and your daughter in the sun room.

“Mama, I want a snack!” Cersei exclaimed.

Coryo chuckled, only to close the book he was reading and place it onto the side table by his sitting chair. Standing up, with your daughter slung on his hip, the president announced, “Looks like a family snack time’s in order before I get back to work being the President Panem.”

When Cersei was almost 4, you had your son, Cassian Xandros. Then when she was 5 you had another son, Caspian Xenos and when she was 7 you had your last child. Another son, who was named Caelestis Xanthias.

Even tho Coriolanus had not 1 but 3 boys to carry on the mighty and magnificent Snow name, it was your daughter, Cersei, that was his favorite child.

Coriolanus was a good father to all 4 of your children, but it was your daughter that had him wrapped around his finger. She was daddy's little princess. She could do no wrong in his eyes.

But your boys…oh boy…Your son's had to be perfect unless they wanted to hear Coriolanus lecture them. He expected straight A’s and top marks in school from his 3 boys. Expected them to be involved in school politics, chess club, and the debate team. And when it came time for them to be mentors in the Hunger Games for a district that didn't have a Victor to act as a mentor, well you better believe that they had to be perfect at that too.

But not Cersei. Oh no… Coryo let Cersei get away with shit that he'd never let Cassian Xandros, Caspian Xenos, and Caelestis Xanthias get away with.

Cersei didn't want to be a mentor, so guess what? Her daddy, President Snow, let her stay home sick during the games so her mentor spot had to be given to somebody else. If she wanted to quit ballet lessons after just one lesson, saying it wasn't fun, then she could. She could get away with anything she wanted to, because your husband let her.

Coriolanus spoiled his daughter rotten.

And one day, as a young woman, when Cersei went running to her daddy saying that she was in trouble (knocked up) and that the Peacekeeper that got her in that condition didn't want the responsibility of a family, you know what Coriolanus did? He just told your daughter that he'd take care of everything.

And boy did he ever…

He had tea with that peacekeeper, where only one of them walked away from the garden tea table alive, and scattered the man's family all over the districts. Making sure that his younger siblings, nieces, nephews, cousins, etc were reaped when eligible.

Coriolanus also assured your daughter that you and him would help her raise her baby. That she'd have your support and wouldn't be alone.

So, when Cersei gave birth to her daughter, Celeste Snow, as a single mother you and Coryo were by her side. Assuring her that everything was fine, that she was going to be a great mother.

You had a sense of deja vu whenever the nurses all gossiped and giggled about how President Snow was such a good father and grandfather to be for staying by his daughter's side and supporting her despite her being an unwed mother.

Coriolanus was a great father to all of your children, but his favorite was your daughter Cersei. So, naturally, his favorite grandchild was her only daughter Celeste. He dotes on your granddaughter Celeste. She was the apple of his eye, even when the boys started getting married and having children of their own.

Coriolanus loved all his grandchildren, but Celeste was his favorite.

You on the other hand didn't have favorites. You loved all of your children and grandchildren equally.

But Coryo wasn't like you. No, your husband was the type to love obsessively, so he had to pick favorites.

So, it didn't surprise you when one day, before the games started, you walked into the sunroom to see your granddaughter and your husband having brunch. It reminded you of how he used to read to her mother all those years ago.

He might be older now with pure white hair, a distinguished white beard framing his face, and a bit more weight on his bones, but he was the same man in spirit he was all those years ago when he used to cut time out of his day just for your daughter. Now he just does it for his granddaughter.

“Grandpa, Grandma just walked in.” Celeste announced, peeling little shell pieces off of her soft boiled egg.

“I see that, darling.” Coryo told your granddaughter. Looking at you, he gestured to the empty seat next to him at the table and suggested, “Why don't you join me, my darling rose.”

“Well, I wasn't planning to, but if you insist.” You smiled, walking further into the room.

Your eyes saw the way Celeste had her hair done in a braid, that looked like the one that Victor from 12 Katniss Everdeen wore and you secretly hoped that your husband wouldn't yell at her for it. You knew how much he couldn't stand the Everdeen girl and feared that he'd be upset with Celeste for wearing her hair like the victor's.

As you sat down, you heard your husband say, “Your hair looks lovely darling, when did you start wearing it like that?”

“Everybody at school wears it like this now, grandpa.” Celeste said with a little devious smile on her face.

And the backlash never came. He just nodded his head and went on to eat his egg.

And that's when you knew that Celeste had the same power over him that Cersei did. That you had as well.

Coriolanus Snow might be a cold, evil, dictator of a president, but to his granddaughter, daughter, and wife he's just a man that loves them unconditionally to the point where it might be considered a weakness if anyone knew.

And perhaps that's why he never speaks much about his girls in interviews. He'll speak about his boys, but not his girls.

Because if anything ever happened to his girls, well…the president wouldn't know what to do with him.

That's how much he loves his darling girls.

Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22, @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops, @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere,@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans, @sudek4l, @wearemadeofstardust0, @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy, @belcalis9503 @shari-berri, @aoi-targaryen, @whiteoakoak, @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons, @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1, @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88, @v-love

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icallhimjoey · 5 months ago

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no no no no no NO no NO! NO! joe can NOT get away with this! he's gonna deny us our *fun* isn't he? this absolute bastard can NOT think that this is an acceptable way to keep us around! NO!

you know what? you're right. you're so very, very right. Wordcount: 3.3K

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All The Aces

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Joe was wrong.

Joe was wrong, but... he wasn’t stupid, as it turned out.

So that first time, you hadn’t really fully realised what was happening, which – fine. Who could blame you? And you would argue that, the next two times after, it also wasn’t really your fault that you hadn’t caught on...

The fourth time; obvious. You would’ve been an absolute idiot had you not put the pieces together... which, you had, so, you also weren’t stupid.

And also, if it wasn’t for Izzy, maybe it would’ve all clicked into place on the third time.

It was just that... Joe went about it a little too calculated at first, the sneaky fucker. Likely because he was also testing the waters, trying to figure out what he could get away with.

And.

Well.

The answer was: A Lot, Apparently. But again; who could blame you? Joe wasn’t stupid.

Joe wasn’t stupid at all.

When he’d buzzed you up into his flat whilst he was making dinner, you’d barged in with a million things on your mind. All of them extremely negative and ultimately: unimportant.

“I know you’ve not invited me over to just rant at you for ages, but, can I just rant at you for ages?” You dropped your bags right where you were standing.

Joe, spatula and pan in hand, eyes on the food, went, “Ages?”

“Okay, fine. A minute. Can I rant at your for a minute?”

You hadn’t even said hello to each other, priorities elsewhere right now. This shit was on your mind and you needed it off your mind.

Joe’s eyes quickly found his oven timer and he reached for it to set it. To a minute. Because he was a comical genius, you see.

“All right, one minute…. And, go!”

You ignored the stupid joke and just, unleashed. There was some work shit, some small annoying things that had frustrated you throughout the day, but when you got your phone out to read a text thread between you and a childhood friend, you really got into it.

The oven timer went ignored. It beeped, but Joe just silently turned it off and put it to the side. You were in the middle of a sentence and whatever the problem was, this seemed important to you.

He knew it was all petty shit you likely already had all the answers to, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t listen.

Joe tried his best to follow along. Really, he did. But he was also finishing your dinner, peeling potatoes and cutting vegetables, and you were going a hundred miles an hour, straying off the main story every ten seconds to explain whatever was going on better. Which, it didn’t. It only confused Joe more, but he nodded along. Said things like, Oh my god, no way and what the fuck at all the right moments like a good friend would do. Like a good boyfriend would do.

“It’s not my fault we’re not as close as we used to be, she went off and had four children- four, Joe. Four.”

You’d started pacing.

“And then she went, “oh you still living with that girl?” That girl – Izzy, we’re talking my best friend since uni, Izzy. That girl. What the fuck does she think she’s even saying?”

Arms were flying, and Joe silently covered a pan with a lid for fear of your phone landing in it.

“And remember when, like, four years ago, I went to celebrate new year’s with her instead of with our group, just because she’d asked a million times, and she didn’t want to come down to join our party? And then she mixed drinks and got me so drunk, I didn’t even make it until midnight? She’s still holding that over my head, look,” you just kept going, read a text message aloud about maybe trying that again and just doing mocktails so she would actually be able to see the fireworks this time.

You sighed aggressively and turned its back end into a frustrated cry.

“Am I insane? Don’t actually answer that, but… am I insane?”

You stopped pacing to look at Joe, and... you had to take a second to take in what you were seeing.

Joe was stood leaning against the countertop where, behind him, potatoes were sizzling loudly in a frying pan. He had his arms crossed over his stomach, head cocked to the side and he was just… staring at you. Slightly biting into his lip. Smiling, a little. It was a way of looking at you that you could feel within your chest. That made you whole face heat up as you felt how the tops of your cheeks blushed.

Rude.

Had he even been listening at all?

“Be helpful, please. Am I insane?” you asked again, arms flying once more, outraged and in need of a very specific answer.

Joe let his smile grow a little wider and kindly assured you, “You’re not insane.”

He got it right.

“Thank you.” You let your shoulders visibly drop, glad to have heard Joe say what you needed him to say. But then you looked behind him.

“You’re burning the potatoes.”

Joe just kept his eyes on you and said, “I know.”

Didn’t unfold his arms. Just kept his warm eyes on you, that fondly stared a little dreamily.

“Joe,” you scolded, half laughing as you stepped closer to take the pan off the fire, but Joe was faster and turned the hob off just before you could intervene. Then he immediately took advantage of you being closer and used both of his hands to cup your cheeks. To hold you by your jaw, and to tip your head back for him.

Then he gave you that same look again.

Half-lidded, soft, adoring eyes that just stared down at you as he smiled a little.

“What?” you asked, expecting him to lean down for a kiss that didn’t come.

“Not insane.” Joe cooed.

You sensed a but coming.

“But?”

“But…” Joe leant down a little, got a little closer. “But you’re very pretty.”

“But I’m very… Joe, that has nothing to do with–”

Joe cut you off with the kiss you’d been waiting for. Soft lips brushed to yours in a funny position because he caught you in the middle of a word, strong hands holding you in place. You let your fingers wrap around his forearms and attempted to pull away, but Joe wasn’t having it. He used the very brief moment your lips parted to whisper, “So pretty.” into your mouth before he was back on you, arm now curling around the back of you to keep you from leaning back any further.

The kitchen smelled of delicious food, and you’d just spent at least ten minutes pacing around the room whilst tirading about something ultimately so very insignificant, especially to Joe, but the boy was kissing you.

Told you that you weren’t insane.

Said that you were so pretty.

Had cooked you dinner and had let you spew about an old friend trying her best to reconnect without telling you that you were being silly.

You probably were being silly.

Today just hadn’t been the best day.

And written communication had the tendency to change in meaning depending on your mood.

You could read everything again the next day and interpret all of it differently.

You were being silly.

But the boy was kissing you now, and it was just the perfect remedy to a shitty day.

Joe held you in place and kissed you until he felt you sigh into him. Until you gave in, and decided that, yea, sure, Joe could just make out with you in his kitchen for a while if he wanted to.

Joe swallowed the soft sounds you made and softly groaned in return. He loved how he could feel you grow more relaxed under his hands. Loved the way you were pulling him down to you to get more of him. Loved how you started to deny him pulling back, now more desperate for him than he was for you.

When you felt Joe’s hands start to wander down your back and round out over your bum for a squeeze, you managed to break free from Joe just long enough to say, “Should we have dinner first?”

As an answer, Joe bent through his knees a little and you felt how his grip grew stronger as he was about to lift you up. You got your arms around his neck just in time.

“Nah,” Joe murmured into your mouth, hands firmly under your thighs as he encouraged you to wrap your legs around his waist. “Dinner can wait.”

You got walked over to the bed where Joe laid you down and then just lazily kissed you for a bit longer.

Where you sunk into his mattress and tangled up into his sheets whilst dinner out in the kitchen grew cold.

Where roaming hands were heavy and wandering, pulling at the hems of shirts as palms searched for smooth, bare skin to touch.

Where you eventually grew a bit impatient and tried undoing Joe’s trousers with fumbly fingers, not breaking your kissing.

Where you slipped a hand inside and felt how hard he was.

Where Joe pretended to suddenly care about dinner until you got your mouth on him and he let himself fall back into his pillows, eyes fluttering shut.

Where the sun was setting outside, casting the room in soft warm oranges as Joe used careful, gentle hands to get you out of your clothes.

Where Joe wanted to see all of you.

Where Joe wanted to feel all of you.

Where Joe made you laugh when you bit into his shoulder, and panted, “I take it back, what I said earlier. You are insane.”

Where, after a while, when Joe burrowed his face into your neck and didn’t remove it, you knew he was in the homestretch. Mind blank. Just feeling.

And you were right.

It didn’t take long for pants to turn into groans, for rhythmic thrusting to turn into sloppy hip-clashes, and for Joe to tense up all over with a held breath before turning into a boneless collapsed man who felt like all the strength within him had just left through his dick.

It took a while for Joe to return back to earth. He just laid on top of you, face pressed into the crook of your neck, breathing so close to your ear it almost sounded like he was inside of your skull.

When Joe finally did remove his face from being pressed into your neck, there was a spit-string connecting you together still.

“Oh, ew,” you laughed, moving your face away slightly, “That’s disgusting.”

Hovering over you, cheeks flushed and hair messy, you saw how Joe looked at the spot where he’d been drooling all over you, and he grimaced.

“Oh, no, maybe,” he leant onto one elbow to get a hand into the crook there, already laughing. “Maybe don’t,” he started wiping, tried to get a bit of duvet in there which only made you feel how wet it actually was. When you moved a little more to get a look, Joe tried to stop you from seeing the wet patch of saliva he’d left behind.

“No, don’t look! Stop!” he was laughing now, and against his advice, you got a hand in there to feel.

“What the fuck, Joe, you drooled all over– Joe! There’s a fucking puddle!”

For a short moment, Joe acted like a child caught sneaking a snack he wasn’t supposed to have taken from the pantry, very cute yet very guilty. That quickly changed into a more indignant attitude, where he gave you a face for giving him a hard time about enjoying himself.

It was only a bit of spit.

“I’ve cooked you dinner!” Joe exclaimed as he climbed off of you, and he said it like the argument was meant to make your neck less wet somehow.

“Which has absolutely gone cold.”

“Come on,” Joe held out a hand. “I’ll heat it up and we’ll have it outside.”

“How about,” you started, grabbing the hand and letting him pull you up. “You go heat up dinner, I’ll wash your sheets, and, um, shower.”

Joe didn’t let go of the hand he was holding, and pulled at it until you were up on your feet where he was quick to lock his arms behind your back to keep you close.

“How about,” Joe copied your tone to make you laugh, and got his face back into the same crook of your neck where he blew a raspberry to make you squirm. “We both take a shower, and then we get the rest sorted after?”

You’d never taken a shower as long together before. No funny business - just actual washing. Except, Joe would keep kissing you places he would then wash straight after, because you clearly thought his spit was dirty now, so every press of lips got chased by a soapy shower sponge and it took for fucking ever for Joe to stop thinking the bit was hilarious.

To be fair, you hadn’t quite figured out how to not laugh every time he did it, so... partially your fault, you guessed.

But what wasn’t your fault, was how not orgasming hadn’t been weird at all. How that hadn’t consciously crossed your mind once. You’d been distracted with wet sheets and soapy kisses and then after all that, a lovely home cooked meal outside on the balcony where you had it with your hair still wet, dressed in just T-shirts and underwear.

It wasn’t your fault the first time, it wasn’t your fault the second time, and it definitely wasn’t your fault the third time, when Izzy barged in right in the middle of it.

It also wasn’t exactly her fault, though.

All Izzy had done was get home from work.

You were right in the middle of the hallway of your shared flat, pressed up against a wall, half naked, in Joe’s arms.

And then Izzy walked in.

Now… you’d seen Izzy freak out before. But to see two of your friends mid stand-up-fuck in your own hallway after a long day at the office triggered a new form of anger within your flatmate. It didn’t help that, as you were trying to get out of Joe’s grip to rush into your bedroom, that Joe’s hold on you only strengthened.

Izzy was the first to start shouting, and a fraction of a second after her first, “Oh my God!” you and Joe started shouting too.

Izzy was stood in the doorway where she was shielding her eyes, workbag sliding from her shoulder into her elbow, and she was screeching on the top of her lungs, “Oh my God, Oh my GOD, no! No! What the fuck! No!”

Joe shouted, “Leave! Leave!” right into your ear with an unmistakable urgency in his voice whilst the cutting edge left no room for argument.

And then there were panicked screams coming from you, high-pitched words tumbling over each other, all sentences unfinished, half telling Izzy to close the door behind her, half telling Joe to let you go.

Which, he didn’t do.

Joe just held on stronger and used his legs to press you against the wall like he was trying to make the two of you disappear into the brick there, and it hurt.

The chaos lasted maybe four seconds. Five tops. It was all overlapped loud voices, all frantic movements and then… to make an already awful situation even worse… Joe orgasmed.

You shrieked, “Wh– Are you coming? Are you coming right now?” as your eyes nearly bulged out of your head with shocked outrage, hands trying to push at his shoulders whilst your legs tried to find the floor.

It was the worst evening you’d had in a good while.

After everything, you sat on the foot of your bed, hugging your knees and Izzy stood on the threshold of your bedroom, asking what she’d ever done to you for you to decide that having sex in the shared hallway at twenty minutes past six in the evening was a totally normal thing to do be doing.

Joe’d quickly left after. Was out the door in a flash after the world’s most awkward apology ever.

“Sorry Izzy, for, um... yea, for making you see… and, um, hear that.”

“Fuck off Joe.”

“Yea, I’m… sorry, I’ll leave. I’ll see you Friday, yea?”

“I said, fuck off, Joe.”

“So sorry. Sorry.” Joe had paused, and then a single look of Izzy had made him go, “Yea, yea. I’m going.”

He hadn’t even dared to turn around to find you in your bedroom first. He’d just walked straight out and texted you, “Got sent home. Call me in a bit?”

Promises were made of removing clothes behind closed doors from now on – preferably locked doors, please. And if you couldn’t take four more steps to get yourselves into your bedroom first, for the love of God, please, just go over to Joe’s. He’s got a whole place to himself and you could fuck on the doormat for all Izzy cared.

You apologized too.

Said it would never happen again.

And then Izzy said she had to not look at your face for the rest of the night because she kept reliving the visuals, and – fair. That made sense.

You kind of didn’t want to see your own face for a second either.

And there was no way that Joe had planned to deny you an orgasm like this, but... it was real fucking convenient that Izzy always came home from work around the same time each day. It was real fucking convenient that he’d gotten you incredibly worked up with cute little text messages all throughout the day. Real fucking convenient that he walked in with his shirt tucked tightly into his jeans and far too many of the buttons undone for you to be normal about it.

There was no way he’d planned it.

But he’d definitely given the situation a little nudge into the direction it had eventually headed into, and no one could blame you for not having seen it then.

Not yet.

But then the fourth time happened, and Joe’d just edged you all night. Was very open about his teasing. Made you tell him if you were getting close, and then when you did, he’d just… ease off. Pull back. Let you whine and cry for it until he thought you’d pleaded enough for him to be nice again.

He’d gotten you so close.

So, so close.

But not close enough.

And then, when he came and just rolled over after, you knew.

This guy was having sex with you without letting you orgasm.

“You’re sick, you know that? Like an actual sociopath.”

“I’m just following instructions.”

Yea, all right.

Yea.

Fine.

He’d gotten away with it up until now, which, well done, Joey. This idiot really thought he held all the aces, didn’t he? Smug little bastard.

But you know what?

Good.

He could feel that way.

You were going to let him feel that way.

There were loopholes.

Easy ones too.

Joe was wrong, and clueless, and maybe, actually… he was a little stupid, after all.

And you were stubborn. Determined. Persistent.

Dead set on proving yourself right.

Which you were.

You held all the aces.

Not Joe.

Joe was wrong.

You were going to outplay the player at his own thought-up little game, and he would see. Oh, absolutely, he would see.

He’d fucking see.

---

The Taglisted

@alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @demonsanddemogorgons

@djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer

@everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @gri959, @hanahkatexo

@hazelenys, @imjustjen14, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven

@kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr

@munson-mjstan, @munsonssweets, @nadixq, @niallersfreckles, @notverywise

@pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @prettiestboyreid, @readergf, @royale1803

@skulliecadaver-blog, @sherrylyn0628, @shizlac, @solzi1420, @songforeddiemunson

@sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow

@witchwolflea, @yunirgo

add yourself

#joe quinn #joseph quinn #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn fanfic #joe quinn fanfic #joe quinn x you #joseph quinn x you #joe quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn fanfiction #joe quinn x Y/N #joseph quinn x Y/N #icallhimjoey #bet!joe #double or nothing #all the aces

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ddejavvu · 1 year ago

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oh my god i don't know if you are taking requests right now but i just saw a scene from al pacino's movie "the panic in the needle park" where there was a dialogue that goes "you know what you are?" "what am i?" "you are my girl". ahhh that's so cute! so i immediately thought of eddie. can you write a cute little something inspired by this dialogue? i love your eddie pieces.

i'm not gonna pretend to have seen the scene you're talking about so i have no idea how it was said/used but my brain went 'argument scene' so that's what i did here <3

"You're too impulsive, Eddie," You groan, pointedly looking away from his bleeding knuckles, "You can't just punch anyone who says something mean."

"I'm not impulsive." Eddie insists, and you play into dramatics to drop your jaw in a comically aghast expression, "I didn't punch him for shits and giggles, babe. He said something nasty about you."

"And you had the impulse to punch him. I'm not calling you unreasonable, I'm calling you impulsive. Because you are impulsive." You huff, arms crossed as you refuse to settle into the passenger's seat of Eddie's van. He's got the engine turned over, but you're stalling in the parking lot, one step away from taking the bus home from school instead.

Eddie's brow scrunches, "Yeah? Well, y'know what you are?"

Defensiveness places itself like a shield over your chest. Guarding your heart, it rears its ugly head, denting itself in preparation for words like nagging, ungrateful, god forbid bitchy to be thrown out.

"What?" You spit with sharp eyes.

"You're my girl." Eddie mutters, eyes narrowed with frustration, but not anger as he looks at you, "And I don't like it when people say mean shit about you. Okay? I just-" He glares sideways at his mirror for a split second, catching his own reflection in it, "Maybe I am impulsive. But it's- it's not an impulse to hurt people, okay? It's an impulse to protect you."

The defensive shield you'd thrown up melts with the surge of warmth that Eddie's statement brings to your heart. Falling away with it is weight you'd been carrying since the second your boyfriend's knuckles had connected with the sophomore's face, and you let it all escape in a sigh that drains your lungs.

You inhale, voice much softer now, "Eddie. I'm happy I'm your girl. Really, it's just- I don't need protecting. Or at least, not like that. You can protect me by saving me the headache I endure every time you knock someone's lights out over me."

You chance a glance at him, disarmed by his sentimental speech, and find his eyes similarly smooth to your voice. He reaches out with a cautious hand, the one that isn't red at the knuckles, and you don't hesitate to take it and hold onto it.

He cracks a sad smile, and you mirror the expression.

"I won't punch people anymore," He offers, his voice quiet, "Or- well. I'll try. You're right, I-" He drops his eyes to his lap, speaking softer than you'd have thought possible, "It's an impulse. But I'll work on it."

"Thank you," You gush, rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand, "And thanks for wanting to protect me, Eddie."

"Anytime," He seems almost embarrassed to pledge it, and you let it slide because you're both still getting used to dating and what that means. "Uh, do you still wanna take the bus, or-?"

"If you still want to take me home, I'll stay.' You muse carefully, "Do you still want to take me home?"

"Yeah," His careful smile gives way to an easy grin, a slight relieved exhale whooshing from his nose, "Buckle up, babe. We can stop for fries on the way."

"I want a milkshake instead," You decide, reaching for your seatbelt, "Is that okay?"

"Good taste," Eddie nods, eyeing you in the rear-view mirror, "I'll dip my fries in, and we can use it to ice my knuckles."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson one-shot #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson hc #eddie munson hcs #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson dialogue #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fanfiction

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callme-dickmaster · 2 months ago

Text

Basket Case

Ch. Two - Fuck Steve Harrington

cw: this may be v long, afab! reader, minimal use of y/n, bullying, language, taking out anger on wrong people, teeth grinding author's note: hullo

<<part 1 - part 3>>

masterlist

Monday, November 7, 1983

Outrage was an understatement to describe the feeling in your chest when you walked into your second period class and Jonathan was nowhere to be found. You dug your nails into the wood of the desk and ground your teeth. The girl who sat next to you cringed at the scraping sound but was too afraid to say anything.

As you ground your teeth for the millionth time that class, Carol Perkins turned around in her chair to glare at you. "Can you stop being a freak? It's so annoying," Carol huffed, turning back around.

You rolled your eyes, "Can you stop acting like a smelly cunt? It's so annoying." Carol whipped around to gape at you. You smiled and widened your eyes, trying and succeeding in creeping her out. Carol narrowed her eyes at you but turned back to face the front when the teacher snapped Carol's name with a threat of detention.

You threw your bologna at Eddie Munson and sat on the empty bleachers in the football field to eat the remnants of your lunch. "Well, well...isn't this a treat?" you rolled your eyes. Tommy and Carol walked up the loud metal steps to your lunch spot.

"Hello," you mumbled to them, taking a bite of your now plain mustard sandwich. "What'd you bring me, weirdo?" Tommy asked, snatching the bread and opening it. Him and Carol scrunched up their faces and laughed.

"Only mustard?" Carol scoffed, "What? Are you that poor you can't even afford lunch meat?" she sneered. You chuckled, opening your Star Crunch and taking a big bite. "My bologna is currently in Eddie Munson's mane. You wanna make fun of someone, go make fun of him. He gets a kick out of it," you said, smiling sarcastically at the couple.

Carol pouted, sitting next to you on the bleachers, tightly wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You tensed up, looking pleadingly at a girl sitting two rows away. The girl pursed her lips and looked to the ground, putting her headphones on. You sighed, playing with the plastic around your snack. "Now why would we make fun of you? We're buddies! Aren't we?" Carol asked, looking at her boyfriend.

Tommy hummed in fake sincerity, "Oh, hell yeah!" he said. He leaned up on the seat next to you. "We're super close..." Tommy said, pushing your sandwich mustard side down onto your face. You wrinkled your nose at the smell of the yellow sauce as Carol took the other half and smushed it into your hair.

You huffed, shoving the girl off you and grabbing your bag. You kicked Tommy in the shin to get him out of your way and glared at them. Especially the girl who ignored you.

"Great..." you sighed, picking tiny pieces of bread out of your hair as you stomped back into school with no intention of staying any longer.

"Shit!"

Steve gasped as he ran straight into you, spilling his Coke all over you and turning your clothes brown. You closed your eyes and bit your tongue to hold in the scream you wanted to let out in Steve's face.

"Whoa, y/n, what happened? I'm really sorry I-," You interrupted him with a frustrated groan. "Just shut up, Steve! God, stop pretending you care! The lunch time assault was probably all your idea anyway!" you yelled.

You tried to shove past him and the other students that had gathered around to watch you get drenched in soda.

"Hang on. What?" Steve asked, following after you.

You spun around and threw your hands up, "Let me put it in the simplest terms so you can understand: Fuck you!"

Steve stopped in his tracks, watching you leave with a defeated feeling. He couldn't figure out why you were so mad. He didn't mean to spill his drink on you, he just wasn't watching where he was going. He knew he wasn't the smartest guy in the world, let alone Hawkins, but he could put pieces together to figure out that it wasn't all his fault. And he definitely wasn't going to take the fall for it.

Nancy saw you walking by covered in yellow and brown stains before you ducked into the bathroom. She was going to ignore it since you and Nancy barely knew each other, but you'd been good to Mike and her mom loved you so she couldn't toss it aside.

"Y/n?" Nancy spoke, walking into the bathroom. You were standing at the mirror trying to strip the mustard from your hair with a paper towel.

"Hey..." you sighed. You huffed and snatched some more napkins out of the dispenser.

"Do...do you want some help?" Nancy asked. You spared her a glance and sighed. You slumped in on yourself and begrudgingly gave her the paper towel wad you had in your hand.

"Here..." Nancy laughed awkwardly, wetting them and trying to gently wipe your cheek. "What happened?" she asked, dragging the napkins through your hair.

"Your little boyfriend's stupid friends. Cornered me during lunch," you grumbled. Nancy stopped and shrugged, "Well...I mean, it wasn't Steve's fault," she chuckled. You rolled your eyes. Of course it wasn't Steve's fault. It was never Steve's fault.

"Wouldn't surprise me..." you murmured. Nancy grabbed a few more paper towels and ran them under water. "Well, just because they're friends doesn't really mean anything...he's a nice guy! He wouldn't..." Nancy tried.

You scoffed, "Sure. Just like he wouldn't help Tommy and his other douchebag basketball buddies stuff Eddie Munson into a locker. Thanks a lot, Nancy, I'll see you around," you grabbed your stuff and hightailed it out of there. You nearly sprinted out to your car, trying to avoid anyone as you climbed into your car.

You could see Steve talking to Tommy and Carol by the gym entrance. Probably laughing it up about their newest conquest. In reality, Steve was pissed. You were angry with him because Tommy and Carol were assholes.

"Dude, seriously?" Steve sighed, tapping Tommy on the shoulder.

"What?! She doesn't get to walk around like that and talk shit to Carol!" Tommy replied, tossing his arms up. Carol crossed her arms, nodding in agreement. Steve huffed, torn on what he was supposed to do. In the couple hours he'd spent one on one with you, he found out you weren't as bad as people made you out to be. You made him laugh and you actually had a lot in common. Not that he would ever tell Tommy that.

"Well, now she's pissed at me. And she's my partner for this stupid project in Mrs. Click's! Dammit!" Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair. Tommy and Carol rolled their eyes.

"C'mon man. No way you feel bad for her. It's her own fault, dude! If she didn't act so weird maybe people wouldn't pick on her," Tommy said, putting his hands up in defense. He finally just shrugged, tossing an arm around Carol and leading her back into the school. Steve sighed, catching the end of your car as you drove down the street.

You were going fifteen over the speed limit to get home. Now that Dustin had his bike back, you didn't have to wait for him. You ran inside, ignoring your mother's worried squeaking at the yellow "staining" her daughter's head and slammed the bathroom door. You turned on the shower and sat on the closed toilet lid, burying your face in your hands.

Why you? What did you ever do? As you stepped into the shower and started washing your hair, you were kicking yourself in your mind. How could you let yourself think that Steve might not be who you thought he was? And how could Nancy make excuses for him? Just because he had good hair and they made out sometimes? It was obvious Nancy was just as blind as everyone else.

"Evie, honey? I-I went ahead and put out some pajamas for you. Maybe we can watch a movie before Dusty gets home? Just us two?" your mom asked, softly knocking on the door. You sniffed and said a quiet "okay..." before you wiped down the mirror and sighed at your reflection. You only had a few words swimming in your head.

Fuck Nancy. Fuck Hawkins. And fuck Steve Harrington.

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wildernessuntothemselves · 6 months ago

Text

Heaven is not fit to house a love (like you and I) | Part 5

Word Count: 6k

Genre: smut, angst, fluff

Summary: When you first met your boyfriend, it was love at first sight. No, more than that. It was love before you even met. It felt like you had known each other in another life and were meant to find each other again.

But that's not actually true, is it? You and Beomgyu don't actually know each other from another life, and the dreams you've been having aren't memories of your past life either. That's ridiculous.

But then why does Beomgyu get so defensive about them? And why does each dream feel more real than the one before?

A/N: this is the sequel to my series YAMQN but I'm trying to write it in a way that it would be comprehensible to people who have never read YAMQN. The parts in italic are the dreams.

Warnings: fem!reader, sub!gyu, dom!reader, choking, cunnilingus, fingering, riding, mentions of previous noncon

“Oh my god.” Are the words that stir you awake in the morning.

Beomgyu returns to the apartment to find you in the same position you had fallen in last night, and he freaks out.

“Fuck, did you stay there all night?” He asks, and tries to scoop you up off the floor but you push him away.

“Don't touch me. Isn't that what you wanted?” The raspiness of your voice from sleep adds to the harshness of your words, and Beomgyu frowns. “It's not what I wanted. It's what you wanted.”

“Look at me! What part of this exactly did I want?” You indicate towards your disheveled and miserable state angrily, his reply pissing you off. Was it disingenuous to be mad at him for his ridiculous statement despite you making the very same equally absurd one before him? Maybe, but you’re too bitter and upset that he left you last night to care. “I told you I'm trying to fix it.”

But Beomgyu is not one to let your hypocrisy go unnoticed. “Wow, that makes me feel so much better. I suddenly don’t care that my girlfriend thinks I’m a disgusting piece of shit.”

You have no comeback to that because you know there is nothing you can say that would justify your recent behavior, even if unintended, towards him, so you run away, knowing he would chase after you.

“Whatever.” You push yourself off the ground with great difficulty. It turns out that sleeping on the hard floor curled up in a ball and crying your heart out takes a toll on your body, and your screaming bones and muscles make sure you know that.

“What, are you giving me the silent treatment now?” He scoffs and you stay silent, proving his point as you make your way to your bathroom.

Are you using anger to push down the guilt you feel at what you've put him through? Yes, but he shouldn't have left you to your thoughts last night because despite his reassurance that he wouldn't leave, you still couldn't help but spend the long tortuous hours until you fell asleep imagining that his small break away from you would allow him to reconsider everything and lead him to dump the crazy, toxic girlfriend he has that is treating him like a criminal over something he never did. What if he decided it was all too much after all and left you to find someone else who he wouldn't fight so much with–whose friends didn't hate–who wasn't insistent on being friends with a guy he clearly feels insecure about?

“Come on, just fucking talk to me.”

Now he wants to talk when he made you go through needless hours of torture in the dead of the night by yourself?

“I don't have time. I have to get to work.” You tell him, voice almost inaudible from all the shouting and crying you did last night. Honestly you don't know how you're even going to speak to customers like this but you're intent on paying Beomgyu back for what he did to you.

“Are you fucking serious?” He asks, but you don't reply, just turning on the shower and stepping inside.

You can see Beomgyu is still outside through the fogged up glass pacing up and down the small bathroom and it brings your heart a sick sense of satisfaction that he's waiting for you–that he's atoning in some way for what he did.

You take your time, not just because the hot water feels heavenly against your aching limbs, but also so you’d make Beomgyu wait. You can’t make him wait hours like he did to you but this small punishment does slightly placate your resentful heart.

When you step out of the shower, he's immediately back into it, trying to convince you to stop and talk to him but you ignore him, keeping your mouth shut all through getting ready while he talks your head off.

“This is ridiculous. Why am I the one begging you to talk to me?” He finally asks and you hold back your flinch as you put the finishing touches on your makeup. You have to speak up now. You can’t rebuff him for too long or he might leave again. You cringe inwardly at all these manipulative thoughts filling your mind and prompting you to act in this underhanded way that you never thought you’d behave like before, but you can’t help yourself, finding yourself falling into this toxic way of thinking as if it was something that had always been embedded in a rotten part of your brain you didn’t know existed until it had been unearthed by the stress and pain of everything that has been happening lately.

“I tried to talk last night but you fucking abandoned me.” You finally shout, shifting the blame onto him again.

“I didn't abandon you.” He defends himself heatedly. “I needed time to wrap my head around what you're fucking accusing me of!”

“I wasn't accusing you of anything! I know it's just a dream.” You scream as if you could drown out the voice in your head trying to convince you that it was more than that.

“If you know that then why are you treating me like it's true?” It was his turn to throw out accusations, and this one hit a nerve.

“Because I can't fucking help it, okay!” Your lips tremble as you tear up. You really don’t know why these absurd dreams and images are affecting you to this extent. “I can't fucking control what my mind choses to spring on me and I can't control what that makes me feel.”

“Then what the fuck do you expect me to do about it?” He asks, frustrated. You completely understand his reaction. You would be furious and heartbroken if you were in his shoes. He might even be handling it much better than you would have.

“I don't know, okay? But you leaving me in the middle of the night to deal with this shit on my own is not helping.” You break down, voice turning pathetic and whiny as you cry. Unlike your previous actions and words, this wasn’t intended to sway him into giving into you. You truly don’t know what to do. You don’t want to be having these awful thoughts but you can’t stop them. Still your tears get to him anyway.

“I'm sorry.” He relents right away, always weak when it comes to seeing you cry. “I just needed some time to process it all.”

You scoff through your tears, softer too. “Who are you and what have you done to the Beomgyu I know?”

He cracks a half-hearted smile. “I guess even he has a breaking point.”

That is exactly what you’re so scared of–of him reaching that breaking point and leaving you. You give him an equally unenthusiastic smile. “Well, where do we go from here?”

“Wherever. Doesn't matter as long as we're together.” He says as if he could hear your fearful thoughts and you nod eagerly before he can change his mind. “Together, always.”

__________________________________

Taehyun knows better than to approach you but he can’t stop himself, not when you look like shit and sound like it too. Due to your rough state, your manager has relegated you to working in the back where you're out of the customers' sight, and that's where Taehyun corners you.

“What happened to you? And don't give me that bullshit you gave the manager about laryngitis.”

“I don't owe you an explanation.” You sneer, which is useless since he can't see it when your back is towards him. You doubt it would have dissuaded him anyway given his next question. He is like a dog with a bone. He won’t leave well alone.

“Did he hurt you?”

You whip around to face him, the sneer now turned to a full on scowl. “He didn't. He would never hurt me.”

“You sound defensive.” You almost want to smack the know-it-all look off his face. “God, Taehyun, sometimes it feels like you wish he was abusing me so you have the chance to swoop in and act like the hero.”

That gets him to frown a little. “I don't need to wish for it when I know he is.”

“He isn't. He would never hurt me. I am the one hurting him. I am the one…” You stop yourself as you feel the tears building up again. You shouldn’t say more anyway. He would just use it against you and Beomgyu. “Whatever. You wouldn’t get it.”

But Taehyun doesn’t give up that easily. “Maybe I already know.”

You roll your eyes. “Sure you do.

“He forced himself on you, didn't he?” He says lowly and you’re glad you weren’t holding anything fragile in your hand because suddenly all the strength goes out of your body as an icy grip wraps around your heart.

“W-What?” You stutter, staring at him with a deer-in-headlight look that speaks volumes.

“I knew it.” His jaw clenches and his hands ball into fists by his sides. “I am going to smash his face in.”

“No. No!” You cry, shaking your head wildly. “He didn't do that, I swear. It's all in my head.”

Taehyun looks at you like you're lost your mind, so you quickly clarify before he misunderstands even further. “It's the dreams. I dreamt he… did that, but he didn't! Not in real life. And when I told him about what he did in those terrible dreams, he was so upset and hurt that I would dream up something so vile about him that he left for the night and I just didn’t handle that too well. That’s all. He didn’t lay a finger on me. He didn’t.”

You were doing your best to clear your boyfriend's name. It was the least you could do now that your stupid dreams have leaked out into the real world to threaten your relationship with Beomgyu and to infect even Taehyun. Yes, you’re responsible for leading Taehyun to come to these revolting conclusions, but even you could never in a million years have been prepared for what he says next.

“You had a dream about that too?” He asks and you look at him in utter confusion and apprehension, dread building up in your stomach until you feel you won’t be able to contain it anymore. “Too? You had the same dream?”

He nods slowly, his mind visibly working to try to make sense of what he’s saying. “That's why I was worried about that. The dream felt so real, just like the ones you told me about before, the prince dreams. Prince Beomgyu raped you in my dream.”

The world spins nauseatingly around you. How is this possible? How could he have had the same dream you did? You insanity can’t have rubbed off on him to this extent.

“That's impossible. It must be a coincidence.” You shake your head violently, trying to dispel this insanity before it gets forever entrenched into your mind. “Yes, it's a coincidence because I put the image of prince Beomgyu in your head and you hate him so of course you'd dream of something so terrible about him.” You attempt to convince yourself as much as him.

“Then why did you also have that same dream?” He asks and you shake your head more, making the nausea worse. “Do you also hate him?”

“It's a coincidence.” You repeat weakly but Taehyun appears to believe your weak excuse even less than you do. “Is it?”

You look up at him, and try to conjure up some conviction to defend your love, the love you find yourself hurting once again even in his absence. What the hell is wrong with you? Have you gone insane? You need to get a grip. “Don't tell me you believe the prince dreams are real. I didn't take you for the type to be so superstitious.”

Taehyuns's upper lip curls in disdain at the clear mockery in your voice.“I don't believe they are real but I believe in the psychology behind them. If you truly believe that your boyfriend would never hurt you then why are you having these awful dreams about him? If you truly believe he would never hurt you then why are they affecting you so much?”

“I can't control it.” You cry out, at your wit's end. How do they expect you to answer these questions for them when you can't even answer them for yourself? “It's not my fault.”

Taehyun's sharp face softens slightly. It appears he too is affected by your distress, though he's less lenient on you than Beomgyu. “It's not your fault, it's his. He makes you feel unsafe, that's why you’re having those thoughts.”

You shake your head, denying his accusation weakly. You're so tired. You don't want to talk about this anymore. You just want it all to go away. “Beomgyu wouldn't do that.”

“Do you truly believe that or are you just saying that because you want to believe it?”

“I–I…” You should believe it. You want to believe it, but something deep inside you is preventing you from doing that and if you could, you swear you'd tear yourself apart to get to it and crush it with your bare hands so you can return to the blissful love you once shared with Beomgyu and never have to think about it again.

Your gorey fantasy is interrupted by the warm feel of a hand cupping your cheek, and your look up to see that Taehyun had snuck up on you and is now standing right in front of you.

“Don't hide from it. There is something in there that your mind is trying so hard to tell you but you won't let it because it scares you.” He whispers, his thumb softly caressing your cheek, giving the opportunity for that strange feeling of yearning and affection you hold for him to reignite. How are these men able to so easily look right through you and read you like an open book? “I get it. It's hard to think such things of the person you fell in love with. It feels like a betrayal. It feels like you're doing something wrong, but you’re not. You're just protecting yourself.”

“He's not–he would never…” You stumble, your thoughts a bloody and mangled mess you can't untangle, but he shushes you with a finger to your lips.

“Listen to that voice deep in the back of your mind telling you the truth. I know you hear it.” He bends down, pressing his forehead against yours, his lips centimeters away from your own.

This is dangerous. This is wrong.

“Taehyun?” You ask, noticing the way his gaze is transfixed on your lips. You see it coming a long time before it happens, and you do nothing to stop it. You do nothing to stop him from pressing his lips against yours.

In fact, you don't just do nothing, you actively respond to his kiss, pushing your lips against his own, seeking out the alternative he was so clearly offering you.

He's right. There is something there. You can't even deny it and that scares you. There is something between you as inexplicable as those wretched dreams, and they're all threatening to tear you apart from Beomgyu.

But you're just as helpless against Taehyun as you are against the dreams, your treacherous body responding to his kisses despite your best efforts--your lips tingling against his slightly chapped ones, your heart clenching around every little hum and moan he breathes into your mouth.

When he finally pulls back, you're both in a daze.

"Angel.” He murmurs softly and that triggers something in you–and like muscle memory, you suddenly jump back, freaking out and in turn freaking him out. You seem to have that effect on the men in your life.

No. No. There are no men in your life, only one man. Beomgyu.

“What?” He asks, trying to reach out to you but you step further away, and you can't miss the flicker of hurt flashing across his eyes.

“Why did you call me that?” You ask and his eyebrows furrow in confusion. “I don't know. It felt right. Do you not like it?”

No, you most certainly don't like it. You realize it's a very common pet name but this was all just too many coincidences for your liking, and you can't stand it anymore. None of this makes sense and it's making your head hurt.

"I have to go." You tell him and his face falls. “What? You're just leaving like that?”

Whatever ghost of hurt was there on his face is replaced by stark and jagged betrayal.

“Yes. This was wrong. You shouldn’t have kissed me. You fucking know I have a boyfriend.” Your voice rises, more at yourself than him. You've really fucked up now. “You know we're having trouble and you're fucking using that to get with me. You're a scumbag, Taehyun.”

And you’re a stupid whore. This is exactly why Beomgyu wanted you to stay away from Taehyun but you were arrogant and thought you knew better than him and now look where that led you.

“If you hated it so much then why did you kiss me back? Don't fucking pretend there is nothing between us. I know you felt it too.” Taehyun will not take the blame lying down but it doesn't matter. He's not the one you have to explain yourself to.

“What I felt was shame and guilt for cheating on my boyfriend. I feel nothing for you.” You lie through your teeth. You don't know if Taehyun believes you or not but you know you're hurting him either way and he deserves it. He shouldn't have come onto you during your weak moment. “Go find another girl to fix your intimacy issues.”

You take off your apron and make your way out of the coffee house, ignoring the way your manager is yelling at you to get back or you'll be fired.

“I quit.” You shout back at him. You don't care. Let him fire you. It's not like you can go back and work with Taehyun after this anyway. One of you has to leave and you’re making it easier for the both of you.

You have to get back to Beomgyu. You have to atone for all you've done.

____________________

Beomgyu knows that something is off with you immediately. You look worse than you did when you left in the morning and he's asking about it as soon as you come through the door. You know it's useless to lie to him so you just confess, hoping that the faster you come clean, the faster you can move on.

“You were right about Taehyun.” You say and he immediately becomes angry. “What did he do?”

“I quit my job. I won't see him anymore.” You quickly supply, hoping that would at least placate him a little bit. “You don't have to worry about him anymore.”

But Beomgyu will not fall for such easy tricks.

“What did he do?” Beomgyu asks gravely and it scares you. Not for yourself but for Taehyun. Yes, Beomgyu would never hurt you but would he hurt Taehyun?

“Beomgyu, you’re scaring me.” You tell him, once again hoping he'd soften just a little bit but it's to no avail.

“You're only making me angrier.” He tells you and you can clearly tell, so you make a last ditch effort to protect Taehyun. “I'll tell you if you promise not to hurt him.”

“He touched you.” He states and you shake your head, wide-eyed. Are you really that easy to read? “It was just one kiss.”

“I’m going to fucking gut him.” He rages, storming off towards the door, but you throw yourself in front of him, begging and pleading with him to calm down. “No, no, please, baby. It's over. I will never see him again. It will only be me and you. I swear.”

“That's not enough. He has to pay.” He growls, his fury rolling off him in waves and scorching your skin.

“If you hurt him, they'll lock you up. They'll take you away from me.” You try another angle, anything to get him to back down.

“When I'm done with him, there won't be a piece of him left to find.” His words almost make your heart stop, and the look on his face makes you think he might actually be capable of doing that, so you try even harder to protect Taehyun.

Despite the hostility you treated Taehyun with, you do not wish Beomgyu to hurt him. You care for him beyond what makes sense and you won't be able to live with yourself if Beomgyu lays a hand on him.

“Please, Beomgyu, I'll do anything you want.” You desperately plead, tugging on his shirt like a little child begging their parent not to punish them. “I will never see him again. It will just be you and me, just like you wanted.”

You recognize how insane you sound. If you had seen another woman behaving the way you are right now and saying the same things to her boyfriend as she tries to justify her cheating, tries to prevent her boyfriend from retaliating, tries to convince him he has nothing to worry about by promising to completely and fully devote herself to him… you would shake your head in pity for the poor girl stuck in this tumultuous and frankly scary situation. No, the gravity of what is happening doesn’t escape your notice but you find yourself falling into it no less severely. You just want this nightmare to be over. You want to protect Taehyun and give into Beomgyu and just do whatever the hell he wants so it would stop hurting.

And you find what you desire when the vengeful look in Beomgyu eyes falters a little bit, and you know you’ve got him. He’s got you. “You'll listen to me when I tell you to stay away from these types of men?”

“Yes.” Your answer is ready on your tongue. You are so tired. “You were right. I shouldn't have doubted you.”

The tension in his shoulders eases a little bit. “You'll forget about those disgusting dreams?”

“I will. I just need you to help me.” You pull harder on his shirt and he takes your hands in his and kisses them. His touch is warm, doesn’t burn as hotly from anger as it did a moment ago. “Of course, I will, baby. I will do anything for you.”

You nod. “I know.”

He puts your hands on his shoulders and wraps his own hands around your waist, engulfing you, his touch firm but gentle, slightly hesitant as he watches your reaction to his words closely. “You won't hide away from me anymore?”

“No. I'm all yours.” Once again your answer comes readily despite your trepidation. And to prove yourself, you use your hold on him to pull him into a kiss which he happily reciprocates. You can taste the sigh of relief on his lips, feel the rage slowly seep out under your touch as the kiss deepens.

Beomgyu is horribly lost in the kiss, his tongue chasing your own and his lips desperately latching onto you as if he’d stop breathing if he lets you go. You have a feeling he would stand there for hours, days, weeks, kissing you until you both perish if you don’t intervene.

He also won’t do anything more, the scare you gave him before having apparently done quite a number on him. So despite you very clearly feeling his need against your tummy, you know he won’t make a move to push things any further.

So you make the move for him. You let your hand make its way between your bodies to take a hold of his hard member, and immediately he is pulling back with a groan, his head thrown back for a second as a shiver racks through his body from the sudden burst of pleasure after being deprived for so long, before he quickly whips his head back down and gasps out.

“You don't have to.” He says as if he wasn't giving you the neediest puppy dog eyes you've ever seen. As if he literally wasn’t gasping for air at that small touch.

You scoff. “If I take my hand off your cock right now, you’re gonna cry.”

He gulps. “So make me cry. Better me than you.”

A sharp pang pierces through your heart. Despite how weak he is, how desperate, he still would rather hurt himself than hurt you again. You’re overwhelmed. You don’t know how to respond to that, so you just push him to the ground and say, “You’re crazy.”

“Crazy for you.” He whispers as he watches you take your pants and underwear off.

“See what you’ve done?” You sling one leg over his shoulder, bringing your pussy inches away from his face and letting him see how wet and puffy you’ve gotten for him.

He gulps and asks in a shaky voice, “Can I?”

You cock your head down at him as you play with his hair. “What are you going to do if I say no?”

Is it cruel to mess with him when he’s this needy? You don’t care. You just want to revel in everything he is giving you.

“Whatever you want me to do.” Comes his perfect reply and you reward him for it, unceremoniously pushing his face in your pussy. Beomgyu responds immediately–whether he wanted it so much that he was ready for it or he knew that what he would say would get him what he wants, you don’t know and you don’t care to figure out when his wet tongue was prying your pussy lips apart to seek out your dripping entrance, his entire lower face getting covered in your juices in seconds.

“Fuck, baby, how are you so good at this?” You groan, looking down to see him eat you out just as hungrily as he always does. Every time you’re with Beomgyu, it’s always full of passion and love and lust. He treats it like the first and last time he will ever be with you and his fervor is infectious. A sprawling fire licks up your body, sprouting up from where he was devouring your cunt, his kisses and licks so fractic and yet so deliberate.

Beomgyu doesn’t reply, he just mewls and nuzzles his face into your pussy more.

“Finger me open for your cock, baby.”

You swear you felt him almost cum on the spot at the command, but he holds himself back, one of his hands snaking around your body to grab a handful of your ass and spread it open while the other goes under you to press two of his fingers against your entrance. You feel the pads of his fingers swirling around it for a little bit, probably gathering enough of your arousal to easily breach your hole but you were so turned on, you didn’t really need it.

“Don’t fucking teas–” You don’t get to finish your irritated demand before his fingers plow into you in one go. It takes you by surprise so much so you almost fall, but with his hold on your ass, he is able to keep you in your place, pushing you further against his lewd tongue while his fingers work you open.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You moan, pulling harshly at his hair as he sends you barreling towards your orgasm, his finger pumping in and out of you ruthlessly, repeatedly hitting that spot inside you that has you turning to goo in his hold. “I’m going to cum, Gyu. Don’t fucking stop.”

As if Beomgyu would even consider it. He fucks you as if he could cum from it, and you think he very well could if you asked him to. But you have other plans for him.

“Oh shit, right there! Fuck!” You cry out, finally going over the edge and coming over your darling’s face. Beomgyu happily lets you hump his face, getting those last shocks of pleasure before your punishing hold on his hair loosens and your breathing goes from fast and shallow to slow and deep, your eyelids fluttering to a half-closed position while his shines widely up at you.

He is like a dog begging for his treat, and you’ll be damned if you don’t give it to him. You take your leg off his shoulder, but you don’t put it back down. Instead you press your foot against his chest and push him to the floor. He quickly realizes what you want and compliantly lays down flat for you to lower yourself on him.

“Do you need it, Gyu?” You ask, shuddering as his clothed cock rubs against your sensitive pussy.

He nods quickly. “Uh-huh. Need it to survive.”

You laugh, breathless. He's ridiculous. “Need my pussy to survive?”

“Y-Yeah.” He whimpers, struggling to hold himself back from just dry humping you. “Would die without it.”

“Poor puppy.” You take pity on him and finally reach down to pull him out of his pants, the weak gasp he lets out echoing in your own chest. He did so well for you. You’ve hurt him badly and yet he’s still willing to be so vulnerable for you. You can’t believe you almost messed this up and for what? Demented dreams that mean nothing and a guy who is hell-bent on separating you from the one guy who loves you more than anything in the world because of his deranged savior complex?

You focus on the anger you feel at that to hold the images that are creeping at the edges of your mind at bay as you take in Beomgyu’s cock, feeling it stretch you out even more than it usually does now that you haven’t fucked him in some time.

And it’s not just you who feels the difference. Beomgyu can clearly feel the way your tight walls drag over every inch of his cock as you dutifully take him up to the hilt. You feel his fingers dig into the meat of your thighs as he tries to stay grounded and not cum the moment he’s surrounded by your fluttering walls.

“You okay there, baby?” You tease, grinning at the way he’s holding his breath and the tense arch of his back. You feel bad that your distance has affected him this much, but not bad enough that you don’t start moving just to watch him scramble to keep from cumming.

“Fuck, fuck, slow down…” He pleads and you laugh. “I can’t possibly go any slower than this.”

You really can’t. You were basically just swiveling your hips over him. You weren’t even riding him yet and yet he looks like you’re fucking the life out of him.

It doesn't feel so scary like this, with him writhing under you helplessly. Images still bleed at the corner of your vision from that unknown source, images of Beomgyu decked in flowery silk and expensive jewels but still just as weak for you as he is right now, calling out for his princess as he struggles to hold himself back.

And as your pace starts to pick up and your defenses get weaker, those images creep closer and closer until they’re blending with the image of him under you right now and become indistinguishable from each other, until your Beomgyu is prince Beomgyu and prince Beomgyu is your Beomgyu. It scares you but it also feels right, and you don’t know what that means. Have you finally lost it?

But it’s hard to care about your expired sanity with the pleasure pumping through your veins and flooding your brain. As always, Beomgyu cock fits you so perfectly it feels like it was made for your pussy, a shock of electricity spreading from that point of contact to take hold of your entire body, gripping your muscles until you're bouncing on Beomgyu's cock, chasing it further and further.

“Please, please, slow down! I can't–”

It moves your arm so your hand is wrapped around Beomgyu's delicate throat, pressing firmly on it to quiet his pathetic cries.

“Shut up, Beomgyu. You can take it. You will hold yourself back and not pop in my pussy like a little virgin before I let you.”

Tears collect on his pretty lashes as he sniffles and tries to listen to your harsh commands. But you can see how difficult it is for him. Beogmyu is extremely sensitive at the best of times so you just know that he's about ready to combust at any moment right now and it just makes you even more turned on.

You've never been so rough with Beomgyu, or with anyone for that matter. You've never choked someone before and you probably shouldn't either but you can’t get yourself to let go. You're being so cruel to him but something deep inside you is telling you that he deserves it.

For what? You don't know. Maybe it comes from that same place where the dreams come from and the thought scares you because that is a place of evil and you shouldn't be acting on it but Beomgyu hasn't even batted an eye in alarm. It's as if he thinks he deserves it too.

“Princess!” His choked cry pulls you out of your thoughts and you can tell that he is right on the verge of falling.“Please say I can cum. Please? I r-really can't hold it any longer. God, please.”

He was openly crying now, his sobs partly cut off by your hand around his throat and tears heavily streaming down his face you're sure your image is probably swimming in vision right now from the tears and the low oxygen. He looks pathetic but more beautiful than anyone or anything you've seen in your entire life. How could you possibly be expected to resist God's most beautiful creation?

Still, you play the part.

“Whatever. If you cum I won't stop anyway.” You tell him, and he must have taken this as permission because next thing you know his mouth is hung open and you feel his warm seed burst inside you.

“Fuck.” You look down as you continue to ride him at the same pace, seeing his cum seeping out of your pussy and sticking to both your skin, making obscene squelching noises as you jump on his dick.

But Beomgyu doesn’t complain for a second.

You don’t know what is wrong with you. Why are you doing that? And why isn’t Beomgyu making any attempt to stop you? He just lays there and lets you do whatever you want to him.

“Is this what you wanted?” You ask, tone sharper than you intended. You don’t understand why you’re angry at him when all he wants is for you to love him.

“I–I… I love you.” He slurs incoherently, his words both not making sense and yet answering your question perfectly at the same time. Beomgyu doesn’t care what happens as long as you’re together.

“Fuck, Beomgyu…” You curse, your own orgasm not taking long to grab hold of your body, not with his seed filling your pussy and the raptured, devoted look on his face.

“I love you, princess.” He whispers, barely audible with your hand so tight around his throat as you finally succumb to your own end.

“I love you too.” Your voice surprises you, your own tears having caught up to you without you realizing it until you hear the pitiful garbled sound in your ears.

You don't know why you’re crying. Is it from pleasure? Stress? The combination of everything you've been through these past few months?

You don't know but you know that it feels good to let it all out, your tears getting swept up and washed away by the waves of pleasure battering your exhausted body.

This orgasm takes everything out of you. You enter a state of complete dissociation, the pleasure and strange but profound sorrow taking turns ravaging your body until you're left limp and spent.

When you finally regain awareness, you find yourself in Beomgyu's embrace once again. Always in Beomgyu’s embrace. And he is rocking you and whispering sweet gentle nothings in your ear.

“It's okay, my love. I'm here. I got you. I will never let go.”

_______________________________

A/N: decided to split the chapters after all since i have not finished the last scene yet and otherwise this chapter would've been very large. the last chapter shouldn't take too long to come out though. in any case, send me your thoughts as they keep me going and as always

#txt smut #tomorrow x together smut #beomgyu smut #yandere #dom!reader #sub!idol

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zvtara-was-never-canon · 5 months ago

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The double standard Zutara shippers have towards Mai vs Katara is absolutely icky. I saw a post a while ago (don’t remember the user) and screenshotted all the Mai can’t vs Katara can points. I’ll paste them here:

- Katara threatening Zuko if he dares to hurt Aang is a sign of reprimanded sexual tension, but Mai joking about Zuko never daring to break up with her again it's her being controlling.

- Katara screaming at Zuko that, to make her forgive him after he proved to have changed and be a better person to everyone else, he'll need to bring back her dead mother, as if 10 years old Zuko is responsible for Yon Ra killing Kya, is fair. Mai screaming at Zuko to leave her alone after he made a scene insulting her in front of a crowd is abusive, violent and toxic.

- Katara treating Zuko badly after he saved her from being crushed is legit and deserved. Mai slapping Zuko's hand away from her in two separate occasions because he wouldn't stop invading her boundaries after a highly emotional moment is harsh, undeserved and abusive.

- Zuko mocking Katara and telling her that he'll save her from the pirates is cute. Zuko being actually cute with his girlfriend is cringe and obviously something he didn't want to do.

- Katara splashing Zuko when he was kneeling down in the southern air temple episode is justified. Mai throwing a SHEET OF PAPER at him after he broke up with her and ghosted her is abusive and violent.

-Katara touching Zuko's scar in the catacombs to heal him is cute and a moment of trust. Mai touching Zuko's scar multiple times and him not being bothered by it in the slightest (even burying his scar in her hair) is a breech of trust and consent.

- Katara having many guys who have a crush on her throughout the series means she has rizz and that she's a catch. Mai having one boyfriend other than Zuko makes her a slut.

- Mai and Zuko being childhood friends to lovers is cringe and an overused trope, but then you'll go on the Zutara tag and find multiple fanarts of childhood friends Zutara AUs

- Katara establishing boundaries and making her stance on breeches of trust well known with multiple characters is good writing. Mai breaking up with Zuko after he lied to her multiple times means that she isn't worth sticking around, and is so selfish that she'll leave Zuko in a moment of need.

- Katara had three children while Mai only had Izumi, which means Katara is a better woman (yes, I've actually come across this kind of disgusting comment.)

- Zutarians claim that Katara is apparently reduced to a housewife and child bearer with no agency as Aang's wife (she is a well known master, wonderful healer AND politician as she made bloodbending illegal in canon), and would be better off as the fire lady (????), but at the same time Mai is nothing special because she is just the fire lord's wife while Katara is a master. Like, make it make sense. Being a fire lady is either "demeaning" for both or for neither.

+ Zutara fans making Izumi Zuko and Katara's daughter, and then proceeding to make a rant on how Mai is NOT Izumi's mom despite her looking exactly like Mai and Michi PLUS having "fountain" a significant name in Maiko's love story, in her name.

I’ve been silently reading all the anti zutara here and thought of sharing my piece. I would like to hear what you think too

God, the Izumi one pisses me off the most because:

1 - Neither Katara nor Zuko would EVER just refuse to raise or even acknowledge a child of theirs. Katara's whole trauma is about having to grow up too fast after her mother's death. Zuko's whole trauma is growing up with an abusive father that kicked him out of the house. They would NEVER abandon a child of theirs.

2 - Neither Katara nor Zuko would ever forgive a former partner if said partner had a kid with them and then abandoned said child, again, because of their own traumas.

But also HOLY SHIT, zutara's brand of "feminism" never ceases to shock me. "A better woman has more kids"? Seriously? And here I thought the worst take I'd ever see from them was "Zuko needs to marry a woman of a different race because his genes are bad, but he is one of the good ones, and Katara could fix his defective genetic that makes his kind more likely to be violent - no, I never heard the term 'eugenics', what's that?"

And yeah, funny how they're constantly going on and on about how being Fire Lady would totally "empower" Katara, but the second Mai is the one to marry Zuko, suddenly that role is oppressive and disrespectful towards a woman.

#anti zutara #pro maiko #pro mai

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russeliarat · 2 months ago

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So I've encountered some WILD vague posting about the CCCC fandom and it's arguments about gore fics. I haven't directly interacted with this fandom for over a year - not because of anything bad, I just moved on to other interests to be clear, however the fact that this issue that I encountered a full YEAR ago is still a prominent issue in the fandom is crazy. And according to my boyfriend, who still actively engages with the main section of the fandom and their fanfictions, it's apparently gotten a LOT worse.

So I'm gonna be clear, I still engage with CCCC and CJ's media. I still listen to his music, I still engage with art on tumblr, as well as headcanons, I still draw HMSW (plus two of my system's cohosts are directly sourced from the media). I just haven't read the fanfiction or gone on CJFS for a while. Hearing that this has been so bad, it's come to vague posting back and forth on tumblr makes me so fuckin fed up with this shit.

Read to the end of my post before you form an opinion on this, I have nuance, okay?

Hi people, maybe it doesn't take a genius to take a step back and figure out that saying that you should be allowed to make reasonless and intense gore, abuse, and torture fics about a REAL GUY'S personification of his own personal struggles with mental health and suicide is insanely entitled /neg.

Heart, Mind, Soul, and Whole are not just independent characters from Chonny Jash. They are his (self-admitted) personifications of his mental health struggles, thusly, they are him. CJ has said that Whole is just him.

Excusing making fanfiction about intense abuse and gore and torture and cannibalism and god knows what else about HMSW on 'they're AUs' or 'they're interpretations' is not okay. Usually, I'd agree that you should be allowed to make fanfiction freely without people telling you what to do. HOWEVER! This is a real man's struggle with his mental health so I think that there are certain lines and boundaries that should be placed out of respect for CJ. Reasonless gore isn't necessarily bad, but reasonless gore about a real person's struggles is above and beyond disgusting. I've seen someone argue that saying that is government state censorship...

Guys, there is a distinctive difference between 'reasonless fluff' and 'reasonless gore'. One is wanting them to get along and be nice. The other is wanting them to torture each other. I don't think it takes a genius to understand there's a huge difference between 'I want them to snuggle' and 'I want violence to be done upon them'.

I think over the past year, I've kept this idea to myself because I wasn't directly involved and I didn't want to face the backlash at the time. Then my boyfriend got slammed in dms by someone who had these views, so now I'm pissed. I have personal shit in the game now and I cannot hold myself at bay anymore because I'm at my wits fucking end.

I think a lot of writers who delve into these intense topics should keep in mind 'what would CJ think if he saw that I was making fics about gore/abuse/torture with characters that personify himself?' Not because all gore or abuse is bad, they can be used for some wonderful symbolism or tension when pulled off with meaning and though and tact - rather, it's because some people take it way too far, sometimes without realising. I've seen a lot of people I was close to get stuck in an echo-chamber and not realise they spiraled from the headcanon that The Juno Incident was a violent blinding to something as intense as frequent abuse or gore between HMS.

I want the people on the opposing side to realise that I'm not going after gore or violence or intense themes. Some of my favourite pieces of media contain very violent, gory, abusive, intensely triggering themes, and sometimes, they are reasonless and because the developer or writer wanted to explore different forms of horror and fear. I don't personally believe that those kinds of themes should carry over to CCCC because (for the fifth time I'm mentioning it but I feel like I really need to drill it into some people's heads) the album is about a real person's struggle with suicide and his own mental health.

I'm not trying to censor anyone's views, it's just that I think sometimes there's just general common sense boundaries surrounding fandoms that are about someone's mental health.

An additional point is how often these fics tend to be quite ableist and I do see these writers project their internalised ableism onto HMS, which is a much bigger issue in the fandom since about 90% of people headcanon Heart as being somewhere on the blind spectrum and Mind as having some sort of issue with his voice that means he needs to use a vocal implant/Mind being a robot (which can very quickly spiral into ableism depending on how it's used).

Frequently, I see people portray Heart's blindness as making him weak or helpless and the same with Mind and Soul if people headcanon them as having implants or prosthetics or some form of disability and use it in their gore fics. Due to a lot of gore/torture fics using helplessness from injury as horror, it can very easily become quite ableist. I've been in fandoms with a whole month dedicated to harming their faves, and this can be an issue with them as well, not just the CCCC fandom. It can be done without ableism, but more often than not (especially in the CCCC fandom) people aren't looking for it when they write and can create ableist fics about a helpless character because their new/old disabilities.

I also saw someone talking about mischaracterisation and how that ties into this whole thing, but that's for another time because it's partially a separate topic that I could do a full length thesis essay on, so I'll do it another time.

TLDR; Don't make gore/torture/abuse fics about a real person's personifications of himself and his mental health/suicide struggle. That's fucked???

#cccc #chonny jash #chonnys charming chaos compendium #yes i'm maintagging this because this should be common sense i fear #i'm not trying to 'set rules' hun - i'm trying to stop you making socially unacceptable gore fics about a real dude #like guys... imagine someone from your irl life found out you were doing this...#fucking crazy man #i'm prepared for the backlash because if i can make 1 person realise this then i'm happy

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hutchersonsgurl · 7 months ago

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We're just friends - Clapton Davis Part 1

Paring x fem reader and Clapton Davis

Warnings:, pre-established relationship, SMUT. characters are 18+ and MINORS DNI. This contains depictions of fingering, oral (m receiving). (No use YN)

Summary: You and Clapton have been dating secretly because you were the school nerd, and Clapton didn't want to ruin his "cool" status. But you have had enough of being a secret girlfriend so you changed your image.

Noah's POV:

It was a bright and sunny morning, and the birds chirped happily outside my window I smashed the pillow into my head not wanting to get up not wanting to deal with school today who wants to spend their 18th birthday in school all day? not me but I have to look at my phone and see that I got a text message from the school's mean girl Brooke it said "Check your email you'll want to see this I put down my phone I walk over to my desk and click on the link on the email thinking it was some dumb video she sends everyone making out with her boyfriend but no this was way worse as I press the video I see Clapton and Brooke sitting together at the party last night in the video Brooke " since your little girlfriend isn't here tonight how about we send her a video" she says with an evil smile "wait what? Noah and aren't dating but we all know she has a huge crush on me but I'd never date a loser like her, I mean come on I'm Clapton and she's the biggest nerd in our school" He says

I feel tears well up in my eyes as I realize the boy who I've been dating in secret for over a year now who told me we'd go public tonight doesn't give a damn about me he cares about his popularity more than me.

I pick up my phone and start to call Jade the phone starts ringing and I hear a pickup

"Hey what's up?" she asks

I couldn't help it I just started crying

"wait hold up did Clapton's dumbass do something? I swear to god if he did I'll beat some ass" she says

"he called me a loser in front of everyone..." I say in between sobs

I explained everything that has happened up to now to Jade and she's pissed off

"Okay so don't bother getting ready for school," Jade says

"why?" I asked

"because it's time for a makeover bitch meet at the mall in 20," she says and hangs up

20 mins later

I met Jade at the salon and it feels like hours at this point but after 2 hours I turn around to see myself in the mirror my hair is straight and dark Black and My makeup is smoky black eyes and nude lipstick

" Holy shit I can't even recognize myself, " I say in shock

" Nah I still only see you your outer bitch is on the outside," now come on I'll pay since it's your birthday girl, and let's go tonight cute dress for tonight," Jade says paying and then dragging me to the clothing store we go into a chic boutique that always had stylish and unique pieces I try on a few dresses and really don't like them until Jade comes in with the most beautiful black dress on I try it on and I love the way it hugs my curves and I spin around in it and take a few pictures in this dress after I take a few pics I get a bunch of text messages from Clapton

TEXT MESSAGES

Clapton: babe where r u?

Clapton: u missed the first period is everything okay?

Clapton: fuck I heard you saw the video I didn't mean any of it u know I love u please talk to me

Clapton: Baby please answer me

Clapton: I'll see you at your party tonight and we'll talk then

I exit out of the text messages and put my phone in my purse and get dressed Jade and I walk up to buy the dress and we walk out of the store

"you know Clapton is going to eat his heart out tonight and speaking of eating let's go get something to eat," Jade says as she drags me to the ice cream shop

we walk up to the counter and we see a really cute guy at the counter

"hey, what can I get you guys today?' Gabriel asks

" I'll have a hot fudge sundae and she'll have an Oreo frosty" I answered

"Hey, I know you your the new kid Gabriel what are you doing here shouldn't you be at school?" Jade questions

"I could ask you two the same thing" he responds with a chuckle

I notice that he's tall and tan and has beautiful black curls in his hair

"Are you doing anything tonight? because if not it's my birthday today and you should come tonight" I asked

" uh yeah sure cool I'll be there see you soon" Gabriel answers

we pay and we leave heading back to my house

as we got to my house I could see my mom putting up decorations for the party

"Hi, honey how was school today?" Mom asked

"oh actually didn't go...." I answer waiting for a yelling

" you are so lucky today is your birthday young lady we will continue this talk tomorrow" Mom replies

part 2 coming sooon

Not edited will fix soon

#clapton davis #josh hutcherson #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x you #josh futturman #five nights at freddy's #clapton davis x reader #clapton davis x you #clapton x reader #clapton detention #clapton davis smut #hutchersonsgurl<3 #Clapton Davis x fem reader #Spotify

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blacklegsanjiii · 7 months ago

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Okay so, more Lunarian + transfem!Sanji because she's too good. Too good oh my god. Okay.

So my thought was after the Summit War where Ace is saved because Yamato is there and meets Ivankov and gets his dream body from the horm-horm fruit and they join the strawhat pirates and Yamato is "kidnapped" by Germa and the Big Mom pirates and he goes willingly because he wants to beat the SHIT out of the Sanji's birth family because they deserve it. Until they stick cuffs on him that are going to blow him up with cuffs. Which happens to him for the second time in his life which isn't great and Ace is going to be so pissed at him, as well as Law who doesn't know they're going to also save his little sister who these people keep calling a boy which is wrong. It's so wrong. Yamato tells them off multiple times and that he's not going to marry this sixteen year old either. That's weird and gross. Sure, he might be Kaido's son but he left Wano with the guy who became his boyfriend. Also he already went through the whole Summit War and his boyfriend who almost died. They're going to come get him, like that's going to happen and these people will get fucked over. He says all that to them very plainly.

And when he is rescued and Judge is asking about Sanji and shit talking his baby sister, Yamato is so down to kill this fucking guy despite the others not knowing who she is. Judge is still being a misgendering prick and calls Sanji a boy again and Yamato yells to stop calling his little sister a piece of shit and the man who raised her is better than him. He crosses his arms and thanks the rescue team because he knows Ace is going to be upset with him but also so is Sanji and when they ask where his little sister is he's like 'Wano, that's why Ace and I were excited to go.' and then he thinks about it and is like 'Oh, she's going to be very upset with me.' then promptly forgets about that when sees Ace and Otama again in Wano. No one says anything about Sanji to anyone else because they don't think anything of it really until they see a winged woman land from the sky and toss a bag of fruit down to almost everyone's confusion, even after she leaves and when everyone starts asking them questions and Ace and Yamato explain. Yamato explains that is his little sister who gave up her freedom and hands in exchange for Yamato's which allowed him to leave with Ace his first time to Wano. Law is glaring at them when he says that because that wasn't mentioned at all.

Sanji during the fight with Queen awakening her full Lunarian genes and her hair turning as white as Yamato's and the fire enveloping her blazing hot as she smiles wickedly at Queen and says she's been waiting for this moment for a very long time. She fucking hates Queen and how he's treated her for her life in Wano and she's going to fucking kill him. When Sanji is done and running to meet up with other to help those she catches Law and Zoro randomly when she feels the weight on her shoulders and she and Law are staring at each other in shock because her hair is a different color and he just showed up with some guy she doesn't really know. Law asks her to get him treated and she agrees with confusion and when Zoro asks if he's a ham to her and Sanji studies him and says he's not that appetizing and Zoro asks what the hell happened to her and Sanji just smirks and says she became a real monster to his confusion as she carries him out to safety. She is of course confused by Zoro's sleep talking as she drops him off and rejoins the fight, flying with a fire burning so hot it's worrisome that it might burn down Onagashima. It's a whole thing. Her awakened genes make her fly faster and look like a shooting star through the castle. It's rather alarming after the fight is said and Yamato and Ace see her. Sanji is smiling and laughing with them freely since what happened during the raid.

She's free and Yamato is running his hands through her now white hair and over the black wings with Ace and they're telling her about how they got together and about the war and Ivankov. Apologizing for worrying her and Ace dying and Sanji does give him a good tongue lashing for it. Says he's lucky he didn't fight her father because King found her after the vivre card burned up and she had been sobbing a good while and was despondent for days. It was a quite a problem for her but then she hears about Yamato getting taken by Germa and just sighs so long and loud. Like it's a whole minute of just exasperation but Yamato does say they can get her body fixed. It could be her body and she says she'll think about it, she won't make any promises about leaving. Yamato is definitely the older brother who leans on his little sister despite the massive height difference between them, he ties the obi for her kimono and smiles as runs his hands through the feathers of her wings and preens them. Yamato also pulls her bangs up and shows off her eyes to the crew at different points because look how cool his little sister is! That eye is from her mom and that one is from her dad, not Judge, King the Wildfire! It's a very important distinction that needs to be made.

When King does pledge his loyalty to Momonosuke and Wano and is catching up with Yamato and is looking at Ace who is shrinking under the glowing red eyes of the twenty foot father of the girl he made cry by making him think he and her brother who happens to be his boyfriend died for years. He swallows and bows deeply and apologizes for hurting his daughter. King sighs and forgives him because it's not necessarily his fault that he died, but if he does it again or lets anything happen to his daughter there will be consequences. Sanji is just gesturing at them and asking what the fuck is going on as King says she's joining the crew and to get the fuck out of Wano and be free. It's her turn to find her dream and start thinking about herself now that they aren't prisoners. His mask has been off since he came back and he's very intimidating but Sanji grew up with him and they are immune to each other. Her childish pout gets her nowhere with him despite it being one of the cutest things in the world to Yamato. It will make Yamato weak every time especially if she gives him a slight pout with slightly begging eyes. He folds, he constantly folds, he's like a house of cards to her, it's so bad. Of course, it's a problem because she uses him as the pack mule at every island they resupply at and Yamato does snarl and glare at anyone who makes advances on his sister. Not that she knows what's going on because she's never been flirted with thanks to her being King's daughter and off limits to all of Wano.

#black leg sanji #portgas d ace #answers #vinsmoke sanji #transmasc yamato #yamato one piece #yamato #yamaace #fire fist ace #yamato x ace #king the wildfire #king one piece #lunarian!sanji #transfem sanji #fem sanji #fem!sanji

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zombie-bait · 1 year ago

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The Death of a Vampire

Lestat as a protagonist just works so incredibly well and a very significant aspect of that is him being Anne Rice's self-insert. Lived experience can be critical when it comes to writing a good story and many memorable novels will feature elements of that. Anne is built different, though. Lestat (book 2 onwards) is basically Anne's journal for dealing with her grievances and trauma, which, on its own, is a very questionable method of writing. More often than not, it causes him to be characterized inconsistently between books because Anne's own opinions have changed. But it also makes him so real.

You follow his struggles with religion, you see him yearn for forgiveness from a god that has seemingly abandoned him a long time ago and you feel it. The passage I will never get over is in the early chapters of The Vampire Lestat, when Lestat has a breakdown over his mother's (and frankly his own) mortality. He struggles and he cries and he can't get out of bed because there's nothing he can do. Eventually he starts to live again, forces himself to.

But.

"I wandered into the church and on my knees I leaned against the wall and I looked at the ancient statues and I felt the same gratitude looking at the finely carved fingers and the noses and the ears and the expressions on their faces and the deep folds in their garments, and I couldn’t stop myself from crying. At least we had these beautiful things, I said. Such goodness. But nothing natural seemed beautiful to me now! The very sight of a great tree standing alone in a field could make me tremble and cry out. Fill the orchard with music. And let me tell you a little secret. It never did pass, really."

I think about those last two sentences a lot. I think about them even more since Anne Rice passed away.

Every page of Interview is spent talking about death and yet (imo) it's only in TVL that you really feel it. Louis in book 1 welcomes death quite readily because, besides his toxic boyfriend and their traumatized daughter, he doesn't have much to live for. He's basically given up by the time Lestat appears. The greatest torture, to Louis, is the knowledge that he can live forever on the suffering of others.

But Lestat is the complete opposite. He wants to listen to music, to explore Paris, to perform on any stage that will take him, to embrace the man he loves and to send his ailing mother letters of his accomplishments. Death matters most to those who are desperate to live and god is he desperate. He's haunted by his mother's sickness, by the wolves on the mountain that threaten to end his life before he's even lived it, the witches place that reeks of meaningless suffering. And in a way, the dark gift provides opportunity to escape that. But it is still death. It takes away Nicki in a very literal way and takes away his mother in a more personal one. Magnus, like death, chose Lestat arbitrarily. He sees the cellar of blonde corpses and knows that he was only one of dozens to meet an untimely death with no explanation.

Lestat also really wants you to know that he is, truly, a good person. He must be. He swears to only hunt criminals and then goes back on that two pages later. He reshapes stories to present himself as the noble protagonist and the audience has no choice but to believe him. He wants, desperately, to be loved for all that he is, man and monster. He wants to be the hero.

He's this awful, fascinating, very human man so clearly born out of the internal struggle to find meaning and love in a cruel, unpredictable world we all tend to share. He's made up of incredibly basic and powerful human desires hidden behind a mask of bravado and I can't recalling seeing another protagonist like him.

(Quick mention: This isn't some kind of "wow Anne Rice is an incredible author who can do no wrong" piece. She's written a lot of fucked up and bad shit that cannot be easily brushed over. But I don't think I'll ever get over reading TVL for the first time. To read someone bare their soul in such a way creates a truly unique experience. A lot of characters in a lot of pieces of media face death, but it's rare to see a character face mortality in such a personal way.)

(Also odds are I've written similar posts to this before but shhhhh these sad gay vampires are all I have)

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jrwi-aita · 8 months ago

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Am I the asshole for trying to murder the guy that killed himself and I?? CONTEXT, so there's this guy (MALE AND IN HIS 20S I THINK THOUGH ONE MAY MISTAKE HIM FOR A WORM AS I HAVE MANY TIMES) who I share a body with (I'M AN ANGEL POSSESSING HIM BODY) and we're REALLY important. Well, he isn't, but I am, because I've been helping my two friends kill all the Gods so we can overthrow them (IT'S THIS WHOLE THING) and it's really really fucking important that we kill them?? And not dying is kind of a part of that.

and LISTEN, I've spend all my time fighting and beating the shit out of these gods so you would think that by GOD *FIVE AND SIX* he would understand how not dying works?? So I'm having this whole internal conflict and he's being a dick to me anyways saying I'm not allowed to control him anymore and he thinks he's soooo tough, so I'm like WHATEVER!! He can fight them i don't even care. AND THEN HE LIKE??? PURPOSEFULLY GOT STABBED!!!! I'M NOT EVEN JOKING HE WAS PROBABLY JUST STANDING THERE AND HE GOT STABBED FUCK MY LIFE HE DEFINITELY DID IT TO FUCK MY LIFE OVER....

He didn't even defend himself either because i'm like "Oh you think you can die on purpose to mess with me???" and he IGNORES ME... I don't even trust these mfers anymore I bet he choreographed this with Thanatos what the actual fuck is wrong with everyone EVERYONE HATES ME EXCEPT RUMI.

ANywways this stupid guy really pissed me off especially when he said im NOT allowed to possess the body of my boyfriend??? (WELLL TECNICALLY BOTH OURS BUT MOSTLY MINE) SO I tried to kill him >:( And what happened afterwards stays between me and god but needless to say HE'S A PIECE OF SHIT GRR I HATE HIM!!! HE'S A WORM!!!

I know I'm not the asshole but I just wanted to send this so I can make apoint >:( TLDR; am I the asshole for trying to murder a guy who got himself killed on purpose and ruined all my plans?? (YOU CAN ASK FOR FURTHER CONTEXT NOT THAT YOU NEED IT THOUGH)

#APOTHY MENTIONNNNNNNNNNNNN💥💥‼️💥💥💥#guys im the ceo of apotheosis its my baby #also exandroth what the fuck r you talking abt -🎆#jrwi exandroth #exandroth jrwi #jrwi apotheosis #jrwi apotheosis spoilers #peter sqloint #jrwi peter #jrwi thanatos #thanatos jrwi

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agaypanic · 1 year ago

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I don't know why there isn't, but I need more Bimbo Reader who love to give hugs. Well, at this point it's about Malcolm having a bad time? things just don't work out for him? ( I'm sorry, I'm not good at ideas ) so he goes around complaining a lot more than usual and well it's almost all the time, then Reader has no idea because she's busy with gymnast competition so she has no time for almost anyone, at some point Malcolm ends up exploding over everything or reaches his limit ( He suffered an ulcer FOR keeping his complaints to himself, HOW BAD MUST HE BE TO GET TO THAT LEVEL?????? ) so Reader when she finds out everything ends up giving him cuddles and hugs trying to help him look for the good things in the situation ( One of us must be the sunshine of the relationship )

Just FLUFF, PURE FLUFF UNTIL I GET DIABETES. By the way, sorry for putting so many brackets, I'm an imbecile and I can't explain shit

Sunny Days (Malcolm Wilkerson X Reader)

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Summary: Busy with competitions, you have no clue about Malcolm’s current sour moods and bad days. But when you hear about your boyfriend reaching his limit, you know just how to help him feel better.

A/N: i know nothing about gymnastics so any mentions of it in this is pretty vague

***

Malcolm was having the absolute worst week of his life.

In reality, it was probably just a bit below average. But Malcolm was known to be dramatic and to have a sucky life. He thought that if there was a God out there, he was totally out to get him.

It was just one crappy thing after another. Getting put on the graveyard shift with his mom and Craig, being roped into signing up for loads of extracurriculars to impress colleges, getting stuck with taking care of his baby brother when it was one of his brothers’ turns. Pile minor inconveniences on top of that, and Malcolm was starting to become a ticking time bomb.

“Damn it!” Malcolm shouted, throwing his pencil somewhere behind him before slamming his fists on his desk. Dewey turned the page of his comic, not even looking behind him to see his distressed brother.

“What now?”

“The stupid lead on my damn pencil broke!” In frustration, Malcolm crumbled up the piece of paper he had been working on.

“We have pencil sharpeners, Malcolm,” Dewey replied calmly. “Why are you so moody all the time? Well, more moody than usual.”

“Everything! Everything sucks! The only time I have to sleep is right now because I have to work at night, and I can’t sleep because I’m behind on three different assignments. But I can’t complain about it-”

“Too late.”

“-because no one will listen, and no one can do anything about it! Never grow up, Dewey; your life will just suck more.”

“Why don’t you tell Y/n? Isn’t that what girlfriends do, listen to their boyfriends complain about every little thing that goes wrong in their life?” Malcolm sighed, rifling through a desk drawer for another pencil.

“Y/n is at a gymnastics competition; it’s like a whole week. Whenever I’m free, she’s doing stuff. Whenever she’s free, I’m doing stuff.”

“Wow,” Dewey said, getting up from his bed and leaving for the kitchen. “Your life really does suck.”

***

As the days passed, Malcolm became more and more sensitive to every little thing that would go wrong. He’s had to hold his tongue in class and at work, especially in front of his mom. But one day, it all boiled up to the top, and he exploded.

Malcolm was eating lunch with his friends, trying to tune them all out. It wasn’t anything personal; he just didn’t have the energy to listen to some scientific rant when he was trying to focus on not falling asleep right on the table. His friends kept getting louder, clearly very invested in whatever debate they were having.

“Malcolm?” Cynthia tried getting the boy’s attention. “What do you have to say about this?” Malcolm ignored her, which was strange to everyone because he always seemed to have an opinion on everything.

It felt like everyone was suddenly badgering him, wanting to hear his thoughts when all he wanted to do was not think about anything anymore. Stevie pushed Malcolm’s shoulder, just trying to get his attention, and Malcolm lost it.

Malcolm just started shouting, immediately making his friends flinch back. There were obscenities and insults and just pure anger. The group was positive that this all had less to do with them and more to do with something else that was going on in Malcolm’s life. But they couldn’t ask about it. One, because they were a bit scared to do so. Two, because Malcolm grabbed his backpack and stormed off.

Malcolm was lucky that his mom wasn’t home when he got there, because he didn’t know how he’d explain why he was home three hours early. Plus, he had only cooled off a tiny bit while he walked home, so there was a chance he and Lois would have a conversation that was similar to a nuclear bomb. Malcolm figured a nap could do him some good, but he just couldn’t seem to fall asleep when he lay down. Instead, his mind raced a million miles an hour, riddled with guilt and exhaustion.

He lay in bed for what seemed like forever when he faintly heard the front door open. It was either Lois coming home from wherever she was or his brothers coming home from school. Either way, he didn’t find it in himself to care, so he rolled over to face away from his door.

A hand landed on Malcolm’s shoulder, but before he could say anything or slap it off, he heard a voice he had been missing all week.

“Hey, Malcolm.” You greeted softly, climbing onto the bed to be closer to him. “Feeling better?” Malcolm turned over to lay on his back, looking up at you as you hovered over him.

“What are you doing here?”

“Competition’s finished, silly.” You grinned, and Malcolm realized that from all his irritation, he had forgotten that today was the day you were coming back from your big meet. He felt horrible for forgetting the day he had been looking forward to, but the guilt washed away as you started playing with his hair, giving him that sweet smile you always do. “And Cynthia texted me about your little… thing.”

Malcolm groaned at the mention, squeezing his eyes in embarrassment.

“Wanna talk about it?” You asked softly, repositioning yourself to mold yourself into Malcolm’s side, hand still running through his hair.

“Everything just sucks,” Malcolm muttered, leaning into your touch.

“Oh, things can’t be that bad, honey.” Your boyfriend gave you an unimpressed look that made you giggle. You could see him trying to hide a smile from it.

“I’ve been working the graveyard shift for like two straight weeks.”

“At least you don’t have to work right after school.” That was true. Despite his memory, Malcolm would probably have forgotten about his homework if he had left it until late at night.

“Mom and my friends made me sign up for like a dozen different extracurriculars because-”

“-It’ll impress colleges.” It sounded so much better coming from you, even though he had heard that same thing repeatedly. “Anything else?”

Malcolm tried to think of something else, but every little problem seemed to have melted away.

“You weren’t here.” You grinned at the response.

“But now I am.” You leaned over to give Malcolm a kiss before speaking again. “You gotta remember to take it one day at a time, Malcolm. Even if you have a cloudy day, there’s still a sun waiting for you.”

“That was so cheesy.” Malcolm couldn’t help but laugh, but you knew it wasn’t in a mean way. “But thanks, Y/n.”

“No problem.” You kissed Malcolm again. “Wanna take a nap?”

“Please!” Malcolm bundled you in his arms and buried his head in the crook of your neck, quickly starting to doze off.

#malcolm wilkerson x reader #malcolm wilkerson #malcolm in the middle x reader #malcolm in the middle #agaypanic

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