#i can't really back this up with anything though other than the fact he changed his entire style when he joined the band
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theoncomingchaos · 2 days ago
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Who loves Rook: Spite or Lucanis
I've been seeing a lot of discourse about this, and I just want to add my thoughts.
I might be totally wrong about this, but here we go. When Spite was put into Lucanis, he was still Determination. The fact that he changed throughout the torture, forced insertion, and imprisonment suggests to me that they have been put into a speedrun of a similar situation to Anders and Justice/Vengeance where they have started to meld. (As Anders put it, you wouldn't know where one begins and the other ends). Just like Anders and Vengeance, Lucanis and Spite can have separate consciousnesses and even disagree about things, but their core values have started to influence one another and become a part of one another- heightening certain aspects.
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I think this melding is why we see some dialogues where Rook tells Lucanis that he sounds like Spite and similarly it's also the reason for the shared attraction- which I fully believe is coming originally from Lucanis.
I'll be honest my first time through I romanced Lucanis and was very disappointed. I didn't even see him and Neve ever flirt (she only ever encouraged us!) But still, it seemed to go from 0 to 60 with him. Now, I am on my second playthrough and I only just met him, but I am starting to see some really subtle looks and dialogues that suggest that Lucanis wasn't lying later when he said he was attracted to Rook from the beginning, but was afraid to really pursue anything or even acknowledge the possibility of being with them. With his fear of trusting people, ptsd from the prison, failed history in romance, and his new situation with Spite that he still hadn't worked out yet, he never thought anything would or could ever come of his feelings. We know Lucanis loves romance stories and likely longs for one of his own, but in such a situation it must have seemed truly impossible and terrifying to let someone else in. Especially someone you really care for and are starting to trust. So, he pushed it all down. Rook flirts? Maybe a small smile, but then quickly lock it all up with everything else he can't handle. Focus on work. Don't think about Spite, or Rook, or anything difficult.
However, if the melding has already happened as I suspect, then the feelings Spite is expressing are shared with (and likely sourced from) Lucanis, he's just better at expressing it directly- which makes sense for a spirit that was once Determination. When you first talk to Lucanis after the rescue, the thing Spite says about Rook changes accordingly to your tone, but to me the responses still sound like they come from Lucanis and are then echoed in Spite: "He doesn't want to hurt us." Even the "He's more fun than you" is something Lucanis seems to think about himself as he is fully aware that much of his life has not been his own and believes "all he knows is death."
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Leading back to the main point, Lucanis's trust and interest in Rook would be heightened by Spite the way Anders' anger towards the templars was heightened. Even though they are finally free from the prison, their is a sense of constant suffering from still feeling trapped by fear, regret, and pain- Spite feels that suffering too. The elements of determination are still within him the same way justice is another side to vengeance. Both spite and vengeance are the results of failing to achieve their goals of Justice and Determination. Spite sees Rook as a way to free them from pain and restraint, a glowing and beautiful key to the prison door, and he is determined to do what needs to be done to solve the problem. That's why he doesn't hesitate. He has no fear. He wants to talk to Rook. He wants Rook to come in and free them.
After Rook has freed them, they become a source of comfort and safety, once they encourage Lucanis and Spite to find a way to cohabit comfortably, the two continue to meld, and the need to protect Rook, to love Rook, to keep them, is very deeply shared. Now, IF Spite was somehow removed or even somehow restored (Both of which I think are impossible) that would likely change. Determination outside of Lucanis would likely become more like Compassion. He would likely forget the horrors he experienced to return to his original purpose.
So, that leaves some final questions, particularly one Hawke helpfully asked Anders- Is Spite an unwilling party in the threesome?
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That's up to everyone's own morality. While both Spite and Lucanis didn't have a choice to become like this, it is the situation they are in and the way they have to find a way to accept and live with because there really doesn't seem to be any real way to change it. Through their time together, Lucanis and Spite have influenced each other and grown into something new. Part of that is Spite also loving Rook. In that way, for those who are feeling (rightfully) underwhelmed by Lucanis's romance, Spite can almost be seen as a symbolic expression of Lucanis's love.
All that being said, I think there were some small things they could have done to make the romance more satisfying over all...but I'll save that for another post.
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theflyingfeeling · 7 months ago
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Aaaaaaaaaaa it really all makes sense when you put it like that, doesn’t it 🤧😭
” there are more things we could view from this perspective (like the somewhat out-of-the-blue girlfriend reveal earlier this year)”
listen I could talk about this and all the possible scenarios and theories for hours 😩 Aleksi used to be such a private person and I find it funny how all this began right after he started streaming and thus saw all the comments (and literally learned what shipping means on stream(!!))
so yeah there is much to think about 👀
Hello yes can we please talk about this and all the other possible scenarios/theories for hours 😭
[more under the cut]
Ooh yesss, the streams really do seem to play a crucial role in this 🤔 Remember how the very first stream was so "heavy" with Olli, with the way Aleksi kept mentioning him, how they texted back and forth and how Olli even tried to call him as if it's something they just do (because it is!!). It was like a little (yes, very little) insight into Aleksi’s world, as he didn't yet try to filter it in anyway. But now? We know they're still close and spend a lot of their time together, but Aleksi chooses to hide it (and yes it's (mainly) Aleksi, because the other idiot rarely posts anything to begin with 😴). Why? Why why why why whyyyyyyy
So yeah, from this aspect it maybe isn't so far-fetched that the (shippy) comments Aleksi has been exposed to have had an effect on his behaviour on some level and have probably given much to think about not only to us but also to him 🤭 And like the creep I am, I’m just soooo intrigued by the idea that seeing those comments have been something (although not necessarily the only thing) that have pushed him on a journey of self-discovery, of which this stage of denial/avoidance we're currently witnessing is a natural part, I guess 🤔
I'm all ears for more theories btw, if you wanna share 👀
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choslut · 3 months ago
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˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ⌇ BABY MOMMA. featuring k. nanami.
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↻ there’s nothing nanami wants more in the world than to make you a mommy, and give you his beautiful kids.
tags : breeding kink, creampie, mommy kink (if you squint), messy sex, pet names, feral nanami, marathon sex, lactation + pregnancy (fantasized), ovulation cycle // wc. 0.9k
author’s note : sorry this one’s a lil late, i’ve been busy with theme changes and real life is throwing a million and one hurdles at me and i just can’t keep up 😞 you can't tell me that nanami wouldn't be a massive family man, so here i have him completely desperate to start a family with you and give you his babies. notes and reblogs are always appreciated, and check out my masterlist for non-event based works <3 !!
this work is NSFW. minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT.
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it’s been hours. hours since nanami even proposed the idea of trying for kids, and now, it’s all he can fucking think about. 
it’s all you can think about too, given the fact that he’s fucked you out of your mind, legs numb from being in missionary for as long as you remember with nanami plunging in and out of you, the tip of his cock nudging your cervix with every single thrust. 
it’s repetitive. it’s addicting. 
“hah- kento, can’t take no more…” your voice is a sheepish babble, nails digging into his back as tears stream down your face. “ ‘s too much, ken, please–“
nanami grunts in your ear, hips never ceasing movement as he ruts into you. “g’na have to, sweetheart. this one’s gotta take.”
he said that about the last one, and the one before that, and the one before that… and fuck, you can’t keep up with how many times he’s said it because he’s been going at it for so long with only one goal in mind. 
he’s gonna give you kids. he’s gonna make you a mommy, and you’re gonna raise his kids with him as his wife. 
it’s all he’s ever wanted. it’s all he’s ever dreamed of, and when he watches you lounge around the house wearing nothing but a bra and his oversized dress shirt and a wedding ring fit snugly on your finger, he really can’t stop himself from imagining what you would look like with a swollen tummy, breasts spilling out of that same bra. 
“g’na give you my kids baby…” he’s rambling half out of his ass, his brain scrambled by pure need. “gonna make my girl a mommy. you’re gonna be a great mommy, aren't you?”
he’s brought up the topic before. it was never anything serious, just asking you what you would prefer and never really thinking of his own volition. you had always agreed with him wholeheartedly, and it would somehow lead to the two of you cooing over baby clothes and strollers but never anything more. 
nanami is fucking sick of it. he’s sick of fawning over the idea and not doing anything about it. sure, you’ve made love a couple of times, but it never held any true intent, focusing on the pure need to give each other pleasure. 
well, now, nanami needs more than pleasure. he needs to see you with that swollen tummy and those massive leaky tits, and there’s only one way to do that; fucking you within an inch of your life and cumming in your cunt until it finally takes. 
“kento–“ you seemingly haven’t gotten bored of it yet, despite having been at it for over two hours. your back still arches with every bump to your cervix, nails still raking down his back as his sweaty chest squashes your own. “this one’s gonna take, promise.”
“i can’t be sure of that,” he states matter-of-factly. “although your tracker says you’re ovulating, we can’t just trust that once or twice will be enough.” is he sure of this fact? no, but he is sure that you feel too damn good to stop, even though he’s already finished inside of you enough times to guarantee your pregnancy ten times over. 
you just look so beautiful beneath him. you wear the radiance of sex extremely well, eyes fogged over and mouth hanging open as your steamy pants echo in his ear. you’re borderline intoxicating, and that’s why nanami can’t stop, even though he knows you need him to before you pass out. 
“look at me, angel. i wanna see you.” you weakly turn your cheek away from the pillow and look up at him, lips stained a gorgeous red and swollen from his kisses. “you’re gonna be such a pretty momma.”
your eyelids flutter and your back arches weakly as you cum again for the final time, garbled moans of nanami’s name flooding from your throat. despite the longevity of your session, your cunt still manages to squeeze around him impossibly, and nanami groans deeply, arms sliding around your hips as you pulls you forward to meet his thrusts. 
“kentooo…”
“i know, baby, i know.” the sheets are soiled with your sweat and his, and the tight clampdown of your walls propels him to cum one final time, hips flush against your twitching clit as he pumps you full. 
you both stay like that for a beat, nanami folded over your twitching body before he finally pulls out slowly, and when he does, the sight he’s met with is so incredibly dirty that he can barely believe he was the one to reduce you to such a mess. “oh, angel…”
copious amounts of his release flood from your cunt, leaving a translucent pool on your sheets. whilst he absolutely loves the sight and wishes to brand it on the forefront of his brain, nanami’s goal is still clear as day. 
he leans down and kisses your overstimulated clit, fingers dancing around your twitchy hole and gathering up his release before pushing it back inside with a curl of his fingers that makes you want to scream. 
“can’t waste any, my dear, or it might not take, remember?” when he looks up at you from in between your trembling thighs, the look on his face is nothing short of depraved, blonde strands of hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks stained red with excitement. 
“can’t wait to see my girl become a mommy.”
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PREVIOUS : THE COLOUR RED ft. yae miko NEXT : BLACKOUT ft. tartaglia
liked that? check out the WE’RE SO BACK main masterlist.
© choslut 2024 — do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission.
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ckret2 · 7 months ago
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Chapter 51 of human Bill Cipher is once more the Mystery Shack's prisoner: Dipper and Mabel try to figure out what the Axolotl's poem means; Dipper gets the hang of astral projection; and... whatever's going on up there happens.
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Ford and Dipper came back into the shack through the gift shop; Ford didn't want to risk crossing paths with Bill. While Dipper went into the house, Ford went down—returning to the safety of his subterranean study.
Once Ford had put on the old black trench coat he'd worn during his multiversal travels and gotten comfortable at his desk, he pulled out Journal 5 to document the events of the last few days. In a cheap ballpoint pen, he wrote, I've lost my #1 Grunkle pen (and favorite coat) to the waters of Lake Gravity Falls. And then, deciding this didn't adequately express his feelings, he drew a small frown. That coat had served him well for decades, and he'd really liked that pen. It did write excellently, and it had reminded him of his gniece and gnephew.
He spent three pages documenting the eclipse—what happened, what readings he'd taken, what he and Dipper observed—and then another four pages talking about Bill. What he'd told them, why Ford had dismissed it; his claims about a trans-dimensional axolotl distorting gravity with its migration; the statue, the rescue, the breakdown.
The act of writing always helped Ford clarify his thoughts and untangle mysteries; it wasn't until he was writing that he realized the limbs Bill had said he couldn't feel were the ones that had broken off the statue.
He listed the rules of the chess variants he could remember Bill inventing. He drew Bill huddled in front of the board, grim, tear-streaked, exhausted; and then scratched out his face, embarrassed at the thought of immortalizing such a raw moment for his private viewing.
He wrote, There's still a slim possibility that the entire "eclipse," start to finish, was Bill's masterfully-orchestrated scheme to make us pity and trust him; but it's unlikely. Although Bill is fiendish enough, he isn't currently powerful enough, and his lies certainly aren't elaborate enough. If he could pull off such a byzantine ruse, then he could just as easily escape—and if he can escape, why hasn't he? Bill may be insane, but he's never been THAT irrational.
And so, even as twisted as Bill's idea of "friendship" is... for the very first time, I'm convinced that he was telling the truth all along when he said he wants me as his friend. It's not an act. He risked his life to save someone who's an active threat to him.
And at the end of it all—though I'm grateful to be alive in spite of my own stubbornness—do I like him any better for it?
Ford leaned back and shut his eyes, sifting through the inner tumult of anger and old hurt that defined most of his memories of Bill, looking to see if anything had changed.
There was a sore, tender spot in his emotions, a place beginning to rot with remorse; when he prodded at those emotions, he found that it was shame over his own harsh conduct of the last couple of days. But he was only ashamed of how cruelly he'd acted; he wasn't ashamed that Bill was the one he'd done it to.
Outside of that tender spot—regret over his own behavior—nothing else had changed.
No. I still hate him. I'm grateful to be alive, but I hate him. He hasn't undone anything he did to my family and me, and he never will. Forgiveness can't be purchased with favors.
I'm only relieved at the certainty of it. Bill has committed an act that can't possibly be a lie. I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he's shown me the truth; and the truth is he'd rather see me alive than dead. Whatever other lies he may tell, I can hold on to that fact.
Bill's miserable eyes peered out at Ford between the scribbles he'd drawn across his face. It was truly a pity that Ford had to hate him. Pity that Bill hadn't been somebody better. He could have been better.
Ford couldn't find it in himself to be embarrassed that he'd filled four pages talking about the monster he'd already wasted so many more on. Bill had been right about him: You might hate me to my face, but behind my back you're as obsessed with me as ever. The only thing Bill didn't understand was that hatred and obsession weren't mutually incompatible.
####
"Hey, Dipper," Mabel said, unfolding the living room sofa bed. 
"Hey, Mabel," Dipper said, passing through living room on his way to the stairs. He climbed up to the attic.
He came back down from the attic. "Mabel. Why's Bill asleep in your bed."
"He really needed a nap," Mabel said.
"Okay but why on your bed?"
Mabel pouted. "Dipper, do you realize he's never slept on a real bed? Ever?"
Dipper tried to imagine sleeping on a couple couch cushions on the floor every night. "Yeah, okay, that does kinda suck." Even if it was Bill's own fault he wouldn't sleep in the living room.
By unspoken mutual agreement, having a Bill in the bedroom followed the same law as finding a centipede in the bathroom. The law was "that's the centipede's bathroom now." So once the folding bed was set up, they sat on it to serve as their hang-out spot for the evening and caught each other up on what they'd done the last couple of days.
After Dipper & Co. had left, Grenda had come over to take advantage of the low gravity to retrieve the kite that had been stuck in a tree near the Mystery Shack since last summer (it was, tragically, too tattered to salvage), and then they'd gone over to Candy's house to photograph each other performing feats of impossible strength. (Mabel would be sending some pictures to their parents to confuse them, and adding the rest to her summer scrapbook.) She'd spent the next day breaking the trampoline world record until Soos came outside and said gravity was probably too low for it to be safe to be up in the air anymore, if Bill's warnings about being off the ground when gravity hit zero were true; at which point Mabel had hung around inside air-swimming until she suddenly slammed against the ceiling, and then the ground. She was fine. She just had a couple of bruises. She showed Dipper her bruises.
In return, Dipper told Mabel about how their quest had gone: the checks for micro-rips, Bill's increasingly frantic warnings, the lake—
("You got to see a bajillion magical axolotls and I didn't?!")
—the cliff, the Axolotl, Dipper's near-death experience, and what he now knew about his out-of-body dreams.
"Seriously?" Mabel hissed, eyes bugging out. "And he had us looking up lucid dreaming books! What a jerk!"
"I know! He could have just ignored the whole thing, we didn't even think it was anything but dreams."
"And I'd thought he was being so helpful, too! Like he was really trying to make up for giving you 'nightmares'!" Mabel laughed in disbelief and flopped down on the flimsy mattress. "All that because he just didn't want us to know how it was really his fault? Biiill, ugh."
His fault. Dipper hesitated, wondering whether he should tell Mabel what Bill had said about Mabel's Fault; then decided against it. Bill had probably been telling the truth when he'd said he only wanted all the credit for Weirdmageddon.
But—Dipper did tell her about Bill saving their lives. He would have felt like a liar if he hadn't—like he was trying to trick his sister into thinking Bill was worse than he already was. He hoped Ford wouldn't mind; but how could he not tell Mabel?
"He could have just let you die and didn't?" Mabel turned that over in her head, processing this sudden shift in Bill's behavior. "Wow. I'm impressed."
He also told her about their previous encounter with the Axolotl. Considering the other lies Bill had told recently, anything he said about them meeting the Axolotl was dubious at best; but Dipper could remember the Axolotl, so maybe some of it was true, even if Bill had twisted as much as he could. ("The Axolotl said hi, by the way." "Aww. Tell him hi back!" "Yeah, I... don't know how to do that.")
Dipper laid out his journal between them on the folding bed, and Mabel read over the couplet a few times. "'Sixty degrees that come in threes, watches from within birch trees'..."
"It's got to be talking about Bill," Dipper said. "Equilateral triangles have three sixty-degree angles. I just don't know why the Axolotl wanted to talk to us about him."
Mabel frowned at the lines. "I think... I remember meeting him too," she said.
"You do?"
"Kinda. Like in a dream," she said. "We were in some kind of futury space race car. And he had a really comfortable beanbag chair."
"Yes! I remembered the beanbag chair, too!" And he hadn't mentioned it in his journal. "This is great! Talking about it must... must cause us to remember, somehow. Maybe since the universe where we met the Axolotl doesn't exist anymore, our memories of it are... detached or something? Psychically floating around between dimensions until we try to remember them?" He took in Mabel's skeptical frown and shrugged. "I don't know!"
She scrunched up her face. "Ugh. Last summer's first-grader time travel was complicated enough. This is like college-level time travel. Maybe we can ask Bill how it works?"
She said it so easily, like she thought it was actually a good idea. Right after she'd heard about the lucid dreaming thing, too. "I don't think he'd help." Dipper lowered his voice. "He really didn't want Grunkle Ford and me to find out about the Axolotl—and he kept telling me not to think about what the Axolotl told me. He's trying to cover something up."
"Oo-oo-ooh." Voice dropped to a whisper, Mabel said, "Do you think it's some kind of Space Axolotl conspiracy?"
"It could be," Dipper said. "All I know is he was trying to tell us something important about Bill. Some kind of prophecy, or... maybe a warning...?"
He trailed off. Mabel had stopped listening to Dipper. She was rereading the couplet Dipper had written, moving her lips like she was murmuring under her breath—but whatever she was saying, it was much longer than the couplet Dipper had written down. Distractedly, she said, "Do you have a pen?"
"Yeah, here." Dipper quickly handed over the pen he kept in his vest.
Mabel clicked it, went to the bottom of the page, and wrote: A different form, a different time.
Dipper sucked in a sharp breath as the words snapped into place in his mind. "That's it! That was the last line! What else do you remember?"
"That's it," Mabel said. "It was free form poetry with a bunch of rhyme pairs."
"I don't think free form poetry rhymes."
"Pbbbt." Mabel blew a raspberry and shoved Dipper's face. "Whatever! You know what I mean." She pointed at the last line. "Do you think the poem's about why Bill's here? He time traveled to the Mystery Shack in a new body..."
"Exactly! Bill must be back here for a reason. He's got all those powers—or, used to, anyway—and he knows more about the multiverse than anybody on Earth... Maybe there's some kind of big threat coming, and Bill's the only one who can stop it, and—and the Axolotl wanted us to know...?"
"I like the sound of that," Mabel said. "That'd basically make him a hero, right?"
Dipper grimaced. "I mean. I guess? But we're talking about Bill. If he does help us stop a threat, it'd be like if a serial killer picked up a hitchhiker and killed him, and then it turned out the hitchhiker was an even worse serial killer."
"That still sounds kinda heroic to me."
"Pfff, okay." He looked at his journal. "But... what is he here to do?"
Mabel considered what they'd already written. "Maybe we can use him to spy on our enemies through birch trees!"
"Thaaat's probably not it."
"No, I think I'm on to something. I can feel it."
There was a lot of empty space between his couplet and Mabel's line. "There's more we're missing, though. Maybe the rest of the poem describes the threat? Or what we need to get Bill to do?"
"I can't remember anything else, though."
"Me neither."
They stared at the page together, waiting for something to come to their blank minds. Mabel looked at the fish tank. "Hey, Primrose! Do you know anything?"
The pet axolotl in the tank ignored her serenely.
Dipper said, "'Primrose'?"
"Yeah, last summer Grunkle Stan said her name is Freakface, but I thought she deserved a cuter name. She's primrose color!"
"Ford says he originally named him Nikola."
Mabel gasped. "Nikki..."
Dipper twisted around to look at the axolotl. "Do you know anything? Do you... get messages from the Axolotl's heralds, or anything...?"
Nikola slowly opened his mouth, and slowly closed it.
Mabel said, "Hey. The Axolotl's one of those dimension-crossy time-travely guys, right? He probably wouldn't have given us a prophecy in the wrong timeline and then made us forget it unless he knew we'd remember it in time in the rightdimension!"
"I guess," Dipper said uncertainly.
"So we don't need to worry about it! We'll remember it when we need to."
"Unless this timeline's going to branch, and the only one where we survive is the one where we put all our effort into trying to remembering—"
"Shhh!" Mabel put a finger over Dipper's mouth. "Uh-uh. No college time travel. We'll be fine!"
Dipper pushed her over. "Okay, but we should at least try a little to remember what the Axolotl told us."
"What if we work on it separately?" Mabel propped herself up on an elbow. "Instead of just sitting around thinking about it. And whenever we remember a line, we can tell each other and see if it makes anything click."
"That might be faster," Dipper said, stroking his chin. "We're already remembering different lines."
"Yeah! And that lucid dreaming book said something about focusing on a problem before you sleep so you can figure it out in your dreams! We can just work on it in our sleep and we'll remember it all in no time!"
Dipper laughed. "What? No way, I think lucid dreaming is just one of those made up pop psychology things. I didn't get it to work at all." Either it didn't work or Bill had deliberately recommended a terrible book.
"I did! I can remember like... eighty percent more dreams. And I can tell when I'm dreaming a lot more often!"
"Huh." Or, maybe Dipper just wasn't doing it right. "Maybe I need to start over from step one. Do you know where the book we were using went?"
"Over here!" Mabel had set a couple library books on the end table next to the sofa bed; she pulled out the second one, which had a glittery pink bookmark with a cat on it stuck two-thirds of the way through. "Just don't lose my bookmark."
"Thanks." He'd reread the first step before bed. "We should probably be getting ready for bed anyway, huh?"
"Seriously?! It's barely bedtime!" And when the adults weren't watching, official bedtime was an hour and a half before Actual Bedtime.
"I'm exhausted. I just hiked up and down a mountain and faced down death."
Mabel pointed at Nikola. "You faced down a big salamander."
"Close enough."
They went upstairs, brushed their teeth, went to their bedroom...
And stopped in the door. Bill was still asleep. "Oh. Right," Dipper said.
He was curled into a ball on his left side, facing the wall, covered with only the zodiac blanket and his borrowed/stolen top hat sitting on the side of his head. He didn't use a pillow; he'd pushed Mabel's pillows and dolls behind himself to form a squishy makeshift fortress.
"Please don't wake him up," Mabel whispered. (She'd already set up the folding bed for herself; she'd clearly planned on this.) "He's had a really really hard time the last couple of days, and I think he needs as much sleep in a real bed as he can get, and it's just for one night, and I'm sure he'd rather sleep than do anything evil—"
"He said something, didn't he?"
Mabel paused. "Yeah. I think seeing his body really messed him up."
Dipper sighed. "We were trying to keep him away from it." He didn't want Mabel to think they'd forced him to stare his own death in the face. "But he did that... eye thing and looked through the trees, and..."
Mabel nodded.
Well. Dipper couldn't kick him out now. For Mabel's sake.
As children, occasionally when they got hotel rooms with a bed too few, their parents would stick them in one bed with a barrier of pillows in between them. At age thirteen and without two crabby parents trying to get them to just go to bed after a long plane flight, they unanimously vetoed that plan. Dipper decided against asking Stan if he could sleep in Ford's unoccupied bed, both because he suspected Stan would just go upstairs and drag Bill out of the room and because he didn't want Stan to think he was scared of Bill. He wasn't scared of Bill. Not anymore. He could handle one measly night in the same room as him. Anyway, somebody had to make sure he wasn't unsupervised in their bedroom all night, right?
Dipper and Mabel quietly set a floor mirror and old lamp next to Mabel's bed, draped a sheet between them, taped on a pink poster that said "WARNING! TRIANGLE ZONE!" and was covered in stickers of triangular objects, and decided Dipper was adequately shielded. If Bill did get up during the night, he'd probably trip through the sheet and wake half the house before he got anywhere near Dipper.
Dipper went to sleep with a baseball bat in his hands.
####
"Okay," Bill said, hands on his sides, "what am I looking at here?"
The feral band members of Sev'ral Timez turned toward Bill, eyes reflecting in the dim light. They were squatting around Bill's petrified corpse like a pack of apes examining a sleek black monolith.
"Hey girl," Creggy G. said.
"Hey," Bill said. He looked down at himself. His onyx black feet hovered over the ground and the yellow glow from his exoskeleton illuminated the clearing. "Lemme cut to the chase, is this gonna turn into a raunchy dream? My corporeal love life is about as cold and dry as Antarctica, I keep hoping one of my dreams will get a little hotter and wetter—"
"Nah, G," Deep Chris said. "Mr. Bratsman got us fixed."
"Aw."
"We're here to pay you reverence for freeing our minds from the chains of the conventional," Greggy C said, gesturing to Bill's corpse. Leggy P was kneeling and bowing to it and Chubby Z was posing for it. "We want to help free you like you tried to help free humanity."
Bill's eye narrowed. He tapped a finger against the edge of one brick as he considered this offer. Finally, skeptically, he said, "Fine. I'll bite. Why should I think you can help me?"
"Because we can give you the understanding your heart's been missing, girl. You're just like us," Chubby Z said. "A horror never meant to exist, born of a dream to construct the perfect golden idol, forced to dwell within an unnaturally-fabricated human shell."
Bill tilted his head thoughtfully. "I'm with you so far."
"We want you to join us," Deep Chris said. "Cavort with us in the silvan night, G. Shun the harsh light of the spotlight for the healing salve of moonbeams. We'll get drunk on the sweet fermented summer berries, uncaring of how the brambles prick our flesh. We'll dance in a frenzy of ecstasy and only sleep when the morning sun lifts the dew from the flowers and the sweat from our skin. It'll be straight Dionysian, boo."
"We can kiss the hot trees," Creggy G said.
Bill grabbed his shoulder. "Oh, you're the human that keeps making out with birch trees! I knew your face was familiar!" He paused. "So... are there any eligible ones around here?"
"Sure, girl, just downstream."
"If I'd known, I would've polished myself first."
"Say you'll join us, Bill girl," Deep Chris said. The band crowded around Bill to either side, posing around him—the backup dancers for the star singer. "You'd be one of us."
"We're already exactly the same," Creggy G said, holding up a mirror so that it reflected his and Bill's faces beside each other. In Bill's human face were two empty white eyes with pinprick pupils and pale blue irises, exactly the same as the eyes of the Sev'ral Timez boys.
He sat up with a gasp, hands flying to his face. There were still green boughs at the edges of his dreaming vision, blending into the wooden boards of the Mystery Shack's attic. Before sleep had fully fled his mind, he seized up the zodiac blanket draped over his body and stared into his embroidered eye.
The eye stared back at him. Through it, he could see his horrified sleepy face, and his normal slitted yellow eyes. His connection to the blanket's eye disappeared as he finished waking up.
He heaved a sigh of relief and flopped back down. He'd been lucid, but he hadn't been in control of that dream. He still needed practice.
He rolled toward the light of the window, groped around beneath it until he found his journal, grabbed up his crayons, and flipped pages blearily until he found the first blank one. He started writing down his dream, pausing only briefly as he tried to figure out how to translate "Sev'ral Timez" before settling on a sufficiently goofy way to misspell "several times" in Plaintext.
He made it halfway down the page before he stopped. Hold on. This wasn't his beautiful journal. These were not his beautiful crayons. He checked the cover and grimaced in displeasure when he saw a pine tree rather than a hand. Dipper's journal. Bill ripped out the page, ate it, and set the journal and Mabel's crayons back on the table  under the bedroom window.
"What was that," Dipper asked, "some kind of Morse code?"
Bill yelped and twisted around. Dipper's soul was hovering above Mabel's headboard, watching over Bill's shoulder.
"Hey! Back, foul ghost!" Bill snatched up Mabel's pillow and swung it at Dipper.
"Ow—Hey! How did you hit me, I'm in the mindscape—"
"I said back!" Bill swung again, chasing Dipper off the bed. "Back into your fleshy tomb!" He climbed off the bed, stumbled into Dipper and Mabel's trap, tripped through the sheet and probably woke up half the house.
He yanked the sheet off and flung the pillow at Dipper by its corner. "Now get back in your body, go to sleep, and leave me alone."
"I don't know how to get back in it. I just wait until it happens by itself," Dipper said, floating irritably over his sleeping body, arms crossed. "Why do you think I just wander around every time I have this dream?" He paused. "Right—it's not a dream, is it."
Bill sighed heavily. "Try putting your body on like..." He almost said like an exoskeleton, remembered his audience, and amended himself: "Like it's clothing. I usually start with the hands. Just like putting on gloves!"
Dipper looked at the cold fingers wrapped tightly around the baseball bat. "How do I put hands on like gloves? There's no opening or—"
"Just try it, would you?" Bill sat tiredly on the edge of Mabel's bed.
Dipper shot him an irritated look, but pressed his ghostly hands against his fleshly ones, passing through the skin until one set of fingers rested inside the other. A fingertip twitched. 
Bill gestured with one hand, continue. "Now the sleeves."
"I know how to get dressed." Dipper laid down in his body, forearm into forearm, shoulder into shoulder—until he was wholly back inside. He sat up, awake. "Huh."
"There, see?" Bill said. "And if you want to take it back off, just do the same thing in reverse. Like degloving your body from your soul!"
"Did you have to phrase it like that?" Still, Dipper tried it, peeling out of his body from the fingertips up. He left his body sitting upright as he hovered over it.
Bill chuckled tiredly. "Lookit your face, staring at nothing. Stupid looking."
"Shut up." He slid back into his body, more quickly now that he knew what he was doing.
"Great," Bill said. "Now that you know how to get back in your body, never do that again." He flopped back onto Mabel's bed and rolled over to face the wall. "It's a pain in my base having you wander around all night."
"Then you should've thought of that before you ripped my soul out of my body," Dipper grumbled. "Can you reattach me to my body?"
"Sure, easy." He lifted a hand to point down at his regrettably human form. "Not like this, though. Wanna help reattach me to my body?"
"Never in a million years."
"Then come back in a million years. There's nothing I can do for you until then." Bill dragged Mabel's zodiac blanket back over himself. "So sorry. Go to sleep. Leave me alone."
Dipper bet Bill could do it and was only saying he couldn't to try to trick Dipper into helping him. But he lay back down—clutching his bat again—and shut his eyes.
After a moment, Bill asked, "Where's Mabel? Sleepover?"
"Sofa bed in the living room."
"Right."
And then there was silence.
Several minutes passed. Dipper nearly fell back asleep. He heard Bill climbing out of bed and creeping across the room; but the footsteps didn't approach Dipper's bed, so he didn't open his eyes.
A few minutes after that, Dipper heard him come back, walking more heavily. He cracked open an eye to see what Bill was up to.
He was carrying Mabel, who was still asleep; his arms were trembling from her weight, but even at that Dipper hadn't known Bill was that strong. With a quiet grunt, he set her on her bed, then haphazardly tossed her sheet and zodiac blanket over her. He picked up his top hat from the bed and put it on; and then he wandered off, footsteps quiet as a ghost, and Dipper heard the creak of the door as he left the bedroom.
That was a lot nicer than Dipper had expected from Bill. Maybe he did care about Mabel in his own way.
Mabel rolled over and latched on to one of her dolls. Dipper shut his eye and fell back asleep.
####
(My favorite part of writing this was Bill dreaming about Sev'ral Timez saying the most absurdly flowery things imaginable. Anyway, let me know what y'all think about this week's chapter! And reminder that I MIGHT skip next week or the week after because the next couple chapters need heavier editing than usual.)
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witchywcmans · 5 months ago
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FORBIDDEN FRUIT. | LAIOS TOUDEN
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synopsis ━━ laios can't seem to get enough after he first tastes you. but the lines in your friendship are beginning to blur. it's only when your party happens upon your ex-lover in the dungeon that laios realizes what he should've communicated all along. (laios x f!reader.)
content warnings ━━ cunnilingus, praise, size kink, jealousy, classic missionary, unprotected sex, creampie, mutual pining/confession, laios and reader are not good with communication (but they work it out v well), laios is self concious but reader is so kind to him !!, monster facts as dirty talk. nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).
word count ━━ 4.8k
song inspiration ━━ awkward, sza / cherry, lana del rey / hunger, florence + the machine
author's note ━━ TECHNICALLY, this could be a part 2 to please, eat, so I'm just going to link as a part 2. you don't have to read please, eat before this, but if you like laios then obvi you should read it anyway!! I'm SO SORRY it took me so long to post another laios x reader 😭 I was trying to finish the manga before I wrote something else dungeon meshi-related, but life gets the way. oh well. also, this might be controversial, but in this fic I’m refuting the “laios is a virgin” allegations. SUE ME. I simply don’t believe he’s been adventuring so long and hasn’t been with anyone, that is crazzzy to me !! but that's just me 🤗 we all have our fave headcanons! my goal when I finish the manga is to write something for laios at the end of the story hehe. I hope you guys enjoy part 2! this one-shot is dedicated to @satoogojos 🫶
🪽 part i: PLEASE, EAT. / part ii: FORBIDDEN FRUIT. / part iii: TOO SWEET.
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Catching feelings for your friend was truly a fickle thing. But you guessed it was bound to happen with what you and Laios were doing behind everyone’s back. Each night, after your party tucked themselves in their bedrolls, Laios would so delicately lace your arm through his and you two would find a private area … before he completely buried his face between your thighs.
He was fixated on the way you tasted, the way he could get you to cum so easily on his tongue. You were the only dessert he wanted after every dinner. Some nights, he would have you writhing from overstimulation, but he just wanted more of you – so much more.
It was a little confusing, though, how he didn’t ask for anything in return. Laios seemed to grind against the cold, dungeon floor as his tongue lapped at your essence, sometimes cumming in his pants and moaning between your legs. Or he would politely excuse himself after he was done, taking care of himself as you cleaned yourself up. You didn’t quite understand it, and maybe neither did he. You both were just too awkward to broach the subject.
The incident with the sea serpent had changed your friendship forever. Not only did Laios save you from becoming one, but the intimacy you both now shared seemed to open you up more. You found yourself divulging more secrets to him, leaning on him when you needed someone, even being more impartial to Senshi’s monster meals. And you liked the way he smiled, how he looked at you. You liked how fearless he was. You liked how protective he was over the party, especially you. You … really liked him. Far more than a crush. In fact, you wished you could go back in time and just have a crush. But your feelings for him became deeper as you crept lower and lower into the dungeon together. Your goal was still to come out of this dungeon alive, but now … you hoped that you would make it out alive together.
What a foolish girl you had become.
You tried to remain focused on the path ahead of you, but you were clearly lost in thought today. The party had reached floor 6, which meant you were closer and closer to the deepest part of the dungeon and hopefully rescuing Laios’ sister, Falin. The last thing you expected to see on floor 6 were other adventurers, let alone your ex.
You were hesitant to call him an ex, since you two had never really been anything but a warm body in each other’s beds while living on the surface. But when your bodies collided and your eyes met his, you realized why you had taken a liking to him in the first place. He had been a butcher’s son, handy with an axe, and you had liked his big, strong hands. You almost fell right into him from the slippery dungeon floor, but those strong hands seemed to catch you like you were made of air. ���It’s you,” he chuckled, setting you up straight and tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “Look at you … feels like it was just yesterday when we were on the surface, huh?”
Marcille looked like she didn’t want anything to do with your ex and his party, but Senshi was very kind to offer them food, if they needed it. Chilchuck seemed neutral, and Laios … you still couldn’t read Laios as easily as the rest of the party. He watched your ex like a hawk, standing behind you as if to protect you. Your ex’s hands were big, sure, but Laios was tall, his shoulders wide and intimidating even without the armor. Laios narrowed his eyes slightly whenever he saw your ex’s gaze roam over you, like he was undressing you with his eyes. And you weren’t sure if you caught it – it only lasted a second – but did Laios clench his hands into fists?
There wasn’t enough time in the world to dwell on it. Especially when you had ghosts seemingly pulling you into another area of the dungeon and waking up on a dirt path, a beautiful golden castle mounted ahead of you. Your party was initially confused, walking into the village and seeing monsters living harmoniously with humans. After becoming acquainted with the village, you and your friends were offered a warm, delicious meal with Yaad, the lord of the Golden Country. After Yaad explained the history of this village, you all were each given rooms to rest in for the night. The beds were small and cold, but far better than a bedroll.
You were used to Laios initiating with you every night, but by the time everyone went to sleep, he still didn’t call upon you. So you stood from your bed, adjusting the nightgown given to you, and walked across the hall to where Laios’ room was. You knocked on his door, and you heard the slip of a sword into a sheath behind the thin wood. He had been inspecting Kensuke for some reason, probably mulling over Yaad’s words. When he opened the door, he was dressed in loose pants and a linen shirt, droplets running down his neck. He must’ve just bathed. You couldn’t stop yourself from digging your nails into your palm.
“Can I come in?” You asked in a hushed voice, and he moved out of the way for you to step inside.
His room looked exactly like yours, but the sheets were ruffled from lack of sleep. Laios walked around you and sat on the edge of the bed, leaving you more confused than ever. You played with your hands as you stared at him, contemplating. “Is something wrong, Laios?” You inquired, stepping closer to him. “You’ve been acting weird even before we got here.”
His brow furrowed for a moment. “How do you figure?”
“Well, you …” Your tongue clicked. “You didn’t come to find me after everyone went to bed.”
He seemed to concede, shoulders dipping at your answer. Shifting on the mattress, he propped himself up against his pillows and moved Kensuke to lean against the wall. His silence was even more perplexing. This had to be the longest time Laios went without talking. He was a blabbermouth.
“I don’t understand,” you continued, walking over and sitting on the end of his bed. “Are you … are you angry with me?”
“No, no,” Laios was quick to reply, “I’m not angry with you. I’m just …”
You raised a brow, eager to hear his answer.
“That man you recognized. On floor 6,” he finally said, his fists clenching again at the memory. “I didn’t … I didn’t like the way he looked at you. And his tone. It was disrespectful to you. Unless I’m reading this all wrong.”
You were taken aback by his honesty. So he had been bothered by your ex. “Oh,” you replied, “well … me and him, we do have history, Laios. But it’s in the past.”
“I could tell.” He was picking at his nails now, any excuse not to meet your eyes. “Everyone has a life before the dungeon. It’s not about the past. I just … I didn’t like him. Or how he looked at you like … like he still wanted you. Or something.”
“Or something,” you repeated, nodding your head. A slow smile crept onto your lips at the realization. “Laios, are you jealous?”
His head jolted up, his eyes glued to his hands, searching for something unknown. Realization washed over his face, as if he hadn’t even considered this possibility. “Oh, gods,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “This whole day I’ve been trying to reconcile with what I’m feeling and I knew I wasn’t mad at you – maybe just mad at the circumstances – and none of it made sense, but now …” He finally met your eyes, a chuckle slipping past his lips. “I was just jealous. How did I not realize?”
“Maybe because we didn’t talk about it,” you offered in a low voice, reaching out and lacing your fingers with his. A jolt of electricity ran through your fingertips and all the way up your arm. You wished you could hide your reaction, but it was clear as day, making Laios shift in his spot. “Laios, we should talk –”
“You’re not leaving the party, are you?” His grip on your fingers went tight, and he didn’t even realize it.
“No,” you laughed, scooting closer and running your free hand over his face. His cheeks flushed instantly when you touched him. “I think … we should talk about what’s happening between us.”
Laios’ gaze went narrow as he processed your words. “Oh,” he said blankly, and then his eyes went wide. “Oh.”
“I just … because we’ve been doing this every night … it’s hard not to feel …” You sighed, unable to get the words right. But he seemed to understand, quick-witted as ever, squeezing your hand in encouragement. And then he smiled at you, all dopey and kind, and your heart began to pound. “I can’t help but think that the lines are being blurred between us. My feelings for you are … much deeper than what they were initially. And if you don’t feel the same way, that’s okay. I needed you to know. I’m sorry if this hurts … whatever our relationship is.”
He was still smiling, his other hand gripping your waist, pulling you even closer. “Well, I think –”
“And now I can’t help but wonder if maybe – just maybe – you feel the same way,” you started rambling, terrified to know how he was going to reply. “Because why would you feel jealous if you didn’t … I shouldn’t make assumptions. But I still wondered. And I can’t stop talking. Again, I don’t want this to ruin anything and I’m sorry if it does. My ex doesn’t mean anything to me anymore and he won’t ever again –”
Out of nowhere, Laios used his upper body strength to flip you onto your back, pinning you to the bed. Now your cheeks were flushed, completely caught off guard by the action. He sat in between your legs, his fingers just brushing over your waist, as he said, “I do. Feel the same. I feel like I’m the one who could’ve ruined this because I didn’t realize it sooner.”
You gave him a sad smile, reaching up to cup his chin. “You couldn’t ruin anything.”
He leaned into your palm when your hand moved to his cheek, humming under his breath. He then leaned down, his body just barely pressing against yours, as if he craved your body heat. Like a moth to a flame.
“Can we not talk about your ex ever again?” He muttered, his hands running up and down your sides. “Because when I saw him today, all I could think about was …” He stopped himself abruptly.
“What?” Your curiosity peaked.
“I’m going to sound like a jealous brute,” he sighed dramatically, nose brushing against yours as his hands moved higher, thumbs grazing over the underside of your breasts. The material of your nightgown was so thin that your peaked nipples were already visible. “I just … couldn’t stop thinking about all the times I’ve tasted you that he hasn’t. I wondered if he knew exactly how you liked it, which places made those funny sounds come out of your mouth. And then, I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and all I wanted this whole day was to get you alone.”
You shuddered when his thumb brushed over one of your taut nipples, making your heel run down the back of his leg. His words alone made tingles run down your spine, but the second his hands were on you, you were properly soaked. The both of you lay there for a moment: him on top of you, nuzzling your nose, rolling his fingers over your nipples through your nightgown, eliciting breath hitches from your lips.
It was so slow, so patient, so good, but had you wanting more. And you couldn’t stop the words coming out when you blurted, “I want to have sex.”
He paused, opening his eyes for a moment, making sure he heard you properly.
“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you said quickly, feeling awkward. But why were you so shy all of a sudden? It’s not like he didn’t have his tongue deep inside your pussy every night. Maybe it was because there was a question still lying underneath the surface. “Why ... why don’t you want me to help you finish after you eat me out? Sometimes you just … walk away to take care of yourself.”
Laios’ face went bright red, and then he buried his face in your neck. “I’m so embarrassed.”
Your hand pushed back his cropped, blonde hair, trying to soothe his racing heart. “Why are you embarrassed?”
“Because it’s … it’s big,” he sighed and lifted his head. “There. I said it. It’s just big. And the last person who saw it made me feel super self-conscious about it.”
You couldn’t help but snort. “You’re embarrassed because you have a big dick?”
His pretty golden eyes were serious, but it looked like he wanted to laugh with you. “Please, don’t make it sound trivial.”
“It’s not trivial, it’s just …” You went to cup both his cheeks. The way he looked at you was unlike anything you ever experienced. You wondered why it took you so long to realize he felt the same. “I would never make you feel self-conscious about anything. I like everything about you, Laios.”
Your words had him melting, leaning back down into you and kissing you slowly. It was only when his tongue slipped into your mouth that his hand snaked down between your legs, just cupping your soaked entrance, the one thing he loved to eat more cheesecake. Realizing that you weren’t wearing any underwear had him reeling. “Gods …” He moaned into the kiss, his fingers simply running down your soaked folds.
As his lips broke away from yours, you asked in a tone as sweet as barometz, “Do you want to have sex, Laios?”
“Yes,” he replied, voice desperate. “Yes, please.”
Your hands went to the hem of his loose, linen shirt, breaking your kiss again to lift it over his head. For the first time, you were able to see what he looked like underneath all the armor. His shoulders were wide-set, his torso soft while also being oddly defined. Most tall-men your party encountered thought Laios was on the slender side, not believing how strong he was. But once your eyes beheld his biceps, you knew how wrong they all were. He was built and muscular and – gods, you could admire him for hours.
Laios stopped your hands from going any further, a pleading look in his eyes. He pushed your nightgown up and bunched it at the waist. “Can I taste you first?”
You nodded quickly, already intoxicated by the way he kissed you, the way he smiled at you, all eager and excited to bury his face in your pussy. It didn’t take him long; he was lightning fast, moving down your body and lifting your legs on his shoulders so he could eat you out easier. His tongue dove into your folds immediately, and he groaned at the first taste. You were acutely more aware every night that he could do this for hours, just lapping at you lazily, bringing you to orgasm over and over again. No monster compared to the way you tasted.
His nose bumped your clit as he tongued your leaking hole, practically whimpering at every drop of your wetness that reached his mouth. Large, calloused hands wrapped around your thighs, making sure they didn’t close and digging into your flesh. Your own hands fisted into the sheets, your ass lifted off the bed, but you could still grind your hips against his face. Soft whines left your lips, nothing compared to the groans Laios was making as he ate you like he didn’t have a three-course meal just an hour ago. You almost wondered if you should tell him to quiet down, afraid of the others hearing, but you were too lost in the pleasure to care.
It was clear to you the closer you got to reaching your peak that Laios wasn’t keen on stopping. And as much as you truly wanted to cum all over his tongue, you thought it was important that you both have this new experience together. It took you a few seconds to finally gather the courage to say something, his tongue feeling too good as he swirled it around your sensitive clit. “Laios,” you called, and then a little louder, “Laios.”
He lifted his head, your juices dripping down his chin. A primal urge made him want to dive back into you, but he controlled himself. His tongue licked at your essence around his mouth, and you shuddered at the sight.
“I want you inside me,” you whispered. “Is that okay?”
“Yes, yes,” he muttered hoarsely, placing your legs so delicately back on the bed, as if they were made of glass. “Of course.” He so desperately wanted to taste you again, but he was even more excited for this, to finally feel something other than his hand wrapped around his cock. You were the first person he ever tasted, but it had been quite a while since he was truly intimate with someone, to slide into someone and feel them clench around him.
As you tugged off your nightgown, Laios began to work at the ties of his pants. But his hands stopped as they came undone, glancing up at you with hesitation. You looked so pretty sitting in the middle of his bed, waiting for him, naked and vulnerable. He felt silly for feeling so self-conscious, especially when you were so beautiful like this.
“Laios,” you cooed, caressing his arm, “there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. And if you don’t want to, then we can stop.”
He almost choked on a laugh. “Trust me,” he replied, “I want to.”
After another beat of stalling, Laios finally stepped out of his bottoms and blushed pink from ear to ear. His cock was … well, it certainly was big. You sympathized with him; if anyone told you something about your body during sex, you would focus on that forever. But there was nothing for him to be embarrassed about. Truthfully, most males would kill to have what he did. His cock was thick and long, a few veins trailing down the shaft, curving up at his pretty red tip that was dripping with precum. You got even more wet just from staring at it, wondering what he would finally feel like inside of you. 
Your mouth opened to say something, anything to make him feel better, but he was already talking: “I need a distraction so I don’t think about you staring at it.” He crawled back onto the bed and between your thighs, immediately pressing his lips to yours. You could taste yourself still on his mouth, and your arms wound around his shoulders instantly. His teeth tugged at your bottom lip, and he asked, “Can I just … ramble about monster facts for a minute?”
You blinked, not expecting that. Laios released your lower lip and sighed, clearly still nervous. “It’ll help me get over this feeling. I swear. Or if you want to stop this, we can. I’ll … I’ll understand –”
“Laios,” you huffed, your mouth pulling back into a sweet smile, “I want you to do whatever makes you feel comfortable.”
“Oh, thank the gods,” he muttered, nuzzling his face back into your neck, placing sloppy kisses. “Did you know that … that harpies almost exclusively have the head of a female human and it is unknown if male harpies exist?”
His voice was muffled against your neck, but you could tell he was desperate and aching. You felt his hard length against your stomach, smearing precum on the exposed skin. “Really?” You breathed out, trying to engage with him but completely failing when he licked a stripe up your neck. A moan escaped your lips.
“There’s also … there’s, uh …” He was struggling to talk now, grasping his cock and giving it a few quick pumps before teasing the head against your dripping wet folds. Your legs instinctively opened wider for him, hoping to whatever gods were out there that you could take his cock. “There also exists a seabird variant of harpies called … called, Sirens. Their wings and  … their – their tail look like a seagull’s.”
You could hardly breathe as you asked, “What else, Laios?”
He began to push inside you slowly, letting you adjust with each inch. “Okay, okay … uh … bicorns … bicorns hate – oh, fuck.” Just the feeling of your tight warmth wrapped around his cock had him biting into your shoulder, like you were the forbidden fruit. He could hardly string together a word, could hardly think, as he sank deeper and deeper into you, his whole body shaking. “Bicorns hate … hate virtue. They prefer – shit – immorality. It is believed that … doing all seven deadly sins will … will allow an individual to approach a bicorn – fuck. Fuck. It feels –”
When he was finally buried to the hilt, all he could do was breathe into your neck. You whined, locking your legs around his waist. The stretch was unbelievable; your walls gripped him like a vice. But it was even better than you could’ve imagined. If you had thought originally that the night would go this way, you would’ve at least brushed your hair. Laios didn’t care though, inhaling the flowery scent as he nosed your pretty strands. You couldn’t even comprehend – whether it be from the stretch of his thick cock inside you or the overwhelming amount of butterflies in your stomach – how you were so lucky to have found him.
Not to mention, you felt even luckier that this wasn’t happening on a cold dungeon floor.
With one hand carding into his hair, you chuckled under your breath, “Had enough of reciting monster facts?”
“Mmhmm …” He groaned, unable to form a sentence. You finally felt him pull back before pushing into you in one fast, deep thrust, making you shiver. Your body was hardly used to feeling this full, but you wanted him so badly that it was humiliating, a pink blush tinting your nose. “You feel so good,” he muttered.
You pulled on his hair, and his head lifted from your neck. His lips were swollen from kissing you. Yours probably looked the same. But that didn’t matter right now as he held your gaze and began thrusting into you a little faster. His eyes were the color of melted gold, flecked with amber and brown, and you felt like you could stare into them forever while he fucked you. Laios lifted one of your legs higher on his waist, but his other hand stayed around your middle, keeping you nestled against him.
“Laios,” you whimpered, feeling him nudge your clit with each roll of his hips. Despite his desperation, his pace was tender and relaxed, making sure you were adjusting to his size. He knew he was big – clearly, it was something he’d been self-conscious about for a while – but the way you were looking at him right now … he’d never felt more at ease, more special. This was all he ever wanted: to be close to someone like this, to find intimacy with someone he had true feelings for. All the other times had been stepping stones, leading to this moment with you, where your warmth enveloped him so nicely and your gaze made him want to cum on the spot.
His hips began to move a little faster, pushing even deeper inside you, as his mouth swallowed your moans in a hungry kiss. Face going hot, you trembled, and his cock pulsed inside you with each pass. Your nails dragged down his shoulder blades, leaving marks for him to examine later, like a predator with its prey. Goosebumps raised on his skin, feeling himself get closer … and closer … and closer. If you kept digging your nails into him like that, he’d surely lose his grasp on reality. But you just felt so good, so warm, and he craved you. Craved you like you were his last meal.
“Laios,” you croaked out when his lips broke from yours, “Laios, are you close?”
He could hardly say anything else but, “Mm …” 
You thought you could get there by now from his tongue teasing you earlier, but you needed a little more friction. Bumping against your clit wasn’t enough. “Okay, okay,” you rambled, reaching down between your legs to touch yourself. “Just hold off for another minute. I’ll get there.”
Laios opened his eyes, realizing what you were doing, immediately envious of your own hand. “No, let me,” he murmured, voice like honey, and found your clit easily. “Then I can taste you on my fingers after.” His excitement made you laugh, which brought a smile to his own lips.
He shifted a little, pulling back so only his tip rested inside you, and fucked back into you at a different angle, one that brushed against your special spot. The stimulation of both your clit and g-spot had your back arching, whimpers slipping out of your lips like a chant.
“Is … this … better?” He asked, panting after each word.
Your voice was strained when you answered, “Y—Yes.”
His balls slapped against the underside of your ass, and he knew how close he was, but all he cared about at this moment was cumming together. He needed to see that look on your face when you reached your peak. He only got to see it a few times, when he lifted his eyes while tasting you, watching the way your lips parted and sweat ran down your forehead.
His fingers rubbed tight circles on your aching clit – knowing exactly what you liked – and you were close. So, so close already. Laios had a way of touching you that felt inquisitive, yet effortless. Like he wanted to learn which spots made you moan the loudest, while also already knowing without even touching you. You grew to like him not just because of his dopey grin, his protectiveness, or his positivity, but also for the way he was willing to learn with you, the way he needed you. And right now, he needed you to cum more than anything.
Tension coiled in your lower abdomen, making you gasp out, “Laios – fuck – Laios, I’m gonna –”
“I know, I know,” he rasped. His pace was nearing on brutal, his whole body shaking as he held off his release for you. “Together. We’ll – together.”
And then, your muscles tighten. You clenched around his cock, and it only took one more thrust against your g-spot to have you falling apart underneath him. You put a hand over your mouth as you cried out, careful of the rest of the party hearing. Your eyes rolled back, his fingers stroking your clit through it, and it all just felt too, too good. Your orgasm went on forever, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over you. As your walls spasmed around his cock, he groaned low, finally spilling into you. His hips stuttered. His mouth gasped for air against your lips, as he felt a ripple of relief from emptying himself inside you. He bit into your shoulder again to muffle his own noises. Your pussy convulsed, milking every last drop, and you were pretty sure you saw stars.
Once the aftershocks hit you both, he slumped against you, breathing in the scent of your hair again. Your fingers traced small circles onto his back muscles, your chest rising and falling with the fast beat of your heart. When his cock went soft inside you, his fingers finally left your clit and he brought them to his mouth. Your eyes were half-lidded as you watched him wrap his lips around his fingers and suck the juices off, moaning at the taste. He looked like an intricate painting; you couldn’t help but admire the sight.
His fingers left his mouth with a wet pop, and he whispered in a voice so soft you almost didn’t hear him, “You just taste so, so good.”
Laios kissed you again, slow and full of affection. You didn’t even care that he was still inside you; you could stay like this forever, pressed into his warm skin. Gods, you liked him so much that you immediately whimpered as his tongue slid into your mouth, and when he shuddered at your fingers on his back … you couldn’t believe you once questioned if he returned your feelings. You had both been so oblivious.
His mouth moved away from yours and he cupped your cheek. He took a moment to memorize the dusting of red across your face, the way your eyes hardly opened after sex, and then said, “Are you hungry? I think we both need a snack. It’s been a long night already.”
You giggled. “You had me at hungry.”
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rafesbangs · 20 days ago
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pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader
summary: shopping all day makes you tired, rafe however isn't tired and tries to mess around in the uber before stopping but having you try on lingerie you bought later at home;) wc: 1.9k
warnings: MDNI ! 18+ ! dom!rafe, use of the nickname 'baby', semi-public groping (?), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, size kink, slight fluff i guess. lot of strong language !!
a/n: smut smut smut finallyyy lol... i'd love feedback! pls let a girl know if you enjoy this <3
you two had been out all day. with your legs aching and both yours and rafe's hands full of shopping bags. you were so glad you'd agreed on an uber back to tanneyhill instead of either of you driving back home after getting off the ferry from charleston.
you lazily leaned your head on rafe's shoulder, smiling up at him when he noticed and leant to plant a kiss on your forehead. releasing a few bags at his feet, he snakes a strong arm around your waist, gently tracing the curve of your body before he not so subtly reaches his hand around to palm at one of your tits through your top.
"rafe." you hiss, raising your head to look into the rear view mirror, hoping the uber driver didn't see anything he shouldn't have. rafe just smirks at you and continues to squeeze your tit, pushing his thumb down over your nipple gently while he goes in to kiss you deeply.
you reciprocate, of course, but attempt to cover what he's doing by putting your hand over his. rafe not being fond of being told what to do, pulls his lips just a little from your kiss. "why're you tryina to stop me baby? 'can tell you're enjoying it by the way you're kissing me" he whispers, breathy.
you swallow nervously and glance up at the rear view mirror, making eye contact with the uber driver now before the man quickly directs his eyes back onto the road.
"not in the uber rafe.." you whisper back, your eyes gesturing to the rear view mirror again hoping that your mischievous boyfriend will listen.
he rolls his eyes but ultimately, the thought of someone perving on his girl bothered him more than not getting what he wants, besides, the uber was just about to pull into tanneyhill anyway.
rafe softly pulls his arm back and grabs the many shopping bags he'd put down at his feet before the uber comes to a full stop. as if with the speed of light, he swings the car door open and hops out before closing it and running around to open the other door for you.
"thank you.." you sleepily say, the day really getting to you now, though rafe was wide awake, and you could see hunger in his eyes. he thanks the driver before practically almost tearing your arm off as he drags you inside.
in the foyer, finally, he turns around and shuts the door behind you with a wicked smile. you could feel your legs turning into jelly, was it over the fact that your gorgeous boyfriend was looking at you a certain way or was it because you'd been walking around and trying things on for like 7 hours straight... you couldn't tell.
"'think it's time you try on some of those sets you bought that you wouldn't let me see..." he grins, hands dropping the shopping bags as he snakes them up your body from your ass to your ribs.
you chew your lip a little, not wanting to disappoint him but you don't think you could handle what a try on haul would turn into, "rafe... i'm so tired..."
he scoffs and throws you over his shoulder quickly, making sure to grab the right shopping bags before taking you both up the stairs to bed.
rafe throws you down onto the soft bed and you stretch and yawn in retaliation before looking up at him, his eyes are dark and hungry, seeing you lying there on his bed all dazed has his head spinning.
realising there's no way you'll get out of this, and also realising you can't say no to that face, or that dick, you smile and sit up. he smirks realising your change of mind and holds the two bags out for you to take into the ensuite.
"maybe a few..." you sigh, rolling your eyes with a grin as you waltz towards the bathroom. rafe sits himself down on the edge of his bed, his grin wide as if he's a little kid in a toy store about to get the biggest toy ever.
in the bathroom, you throw your outside clothes off and strip down before riffling through the bags of lace and string. finally you pull out set number one, lots of lace, lots of mesh too, and put it on with a grin.
"okay close your eyes!" you call from behind the bathroom door, rafe squirms where he sits but closes his eyes, giddy as ever.
you open the door slowly, peering out to see if his eyes are closed, and you smile and walk out, posing a little in front of him before telling him to open.
his deep blues flutter open, you can see the thoughts going through his head a mile a minute, and you'd never seen someone get so hard so fast.
"jesus baby, you're killin' me." he breathes, running a hand through his messy hair before he attempts to lean forward and grab you. you step back and wag your finger at him with a grin, "we still have about 7 of these to go"
rafe's heart just about stopped, he didn't think he could bare sitting through another, let alone seven more sets when all he wanted to do was rip them off of your body and show you how sexy he thought you looked.
it was pure agony, he was clutching himself near the end, practically whining and begging for the little fashion show to end. finally you walked out in the last set, the best one too, and he just about lost his mind.
without even letting you tease him with the way you'd show it off, he lunged at you and grabbed you by the waist before dragging you down into his bed.
"making me fuckin' wait like this, jesus- did you save the best for last." he growls under his breath, now playing with your tits through the black mesh lace fabric.
you just giggle as his grumbling and lean into his touch as he quickly takes the bralette off and connects his mouth to your tit with a relieved sigh. simultaneously, his other big hands travels down your body gently before making it to your soaked opening.
rafe smirks as his fingers slowly circled your pussy, he was breathing deeply into your ear at the sight of how wet you were for him. you could feel the large bulge in his pants twitch when he finally pulled your panties to the side. he licked his lips and sloppily kissed you down your neck before inserting two fingers.
you gasped a little at the feeling and moaned against him. he was loosing his mind over all the sounds you were making, he'd barely touched you.
"baby your pussy sounds so wet f’me, you're drivin' me insane, y'know that?" he breathed, now palming himself in his pants after finally stripping his shirt off.
you run your hands down his abs, grinning from ear to ear as he admires you and continues to touch himself. rafe could feel himself beginning to ache, the need to be inside you had gotten stronger and stronger.
“come ‘ere baby,” he mumbled, quickly pulling his pants off before pulling you under him. he sloppily began kissing you, nibbling at your lip every so often as your tongues fought for dominance.
your breathing was heavy, you could feel his cock right on your pussy. rafe smirked as he kissed you when you began to rut against him, stifling a moan. "you want it inside you? hmm?" he teased, a grin plastered on his smug face from ear to ear.
"mmhm" you mumbled, still kissing his smirk, now desperate to feel him deep inside you. he was groaning against your lips now, realising he also needed to tear away the fabric that was between you.
without a word he threw you onto your back before tearing his pants and boxers down. your breath hitched in your throat when his dick sprung out, you'd never get used to how big he actually was but he still managed to make it fit every time. not that you were complaining, matching size kinks and all.
you grinned hungrily as he crawled on top of you and pulled your panties off slowly, holding eye contact with a matching smirk.
"as sexy as you are wit' all this on, i'ma need to tear it off." he said lowly, your stomach pooled with warmth and butterflies.
rafe kissed his way up your thighs, planted one sloppy kiss right on your sopping wet core before continuing up your stomach and tits. as he devoured your boobs, he slowly slid his entire length into your pussy. you couldn't hold back the moan and you could see his eyebrows nit together at the feeling.
you clenched around him and he groaned, his forehead softly hitting your chest, "baby, fuck... are you tryina make me cum already?"
"you're just.. so big, oh my god." you moaned as he started pumping in and out quickly and unforgivingly. your toes curl and your back arches as he turns slight discomfort into pure pleasure.
his tip kisses your cervix and your eyes roll back as he continues to plow into you. "rafe... rafe." you nearly screamed, grabbing around for his hand until he finally finds yours and laces his fingers between yours.
"what baby, you gonna cum f'me already? fuck.." he mumbled into your ear. the feeling of his hot breath on your neck assisted in sending you over the edge, your chest rising and falling as the band in your tummy snapped.
"good girl, cum all over my cock, fuck... you're such a good girl." he moaned, not even thinking of stopping as he continued to sink his dick into you. the pleasure was immeasurable and relentless. your legs were still shaking as you went through the wave of your first orgasm but rafe continued on.
"oh fuck, rafe- so good" you wailed, nails digging into his back. he sped up, his hips slamming harder into your own now, begging for you to come undone around him a second time.
with one hand gripping harshly on your hip, you were soon moving to meet his thrusts now. both of you moaning into each other's mouths, sloppily making out as rafe rolled your nipple between the fingers of his other hand gripping onto one of your tits.
you could tell he was getting closer now, the thrusts becoming increasingly sloppier and a bead of sweat forming upon his furrowed brow. your legs start to shake and you can feel the pressure releasing for a second time around rafe's cock.
"fuck! oh fuck.. rafe" you whined, nails digging into him again as your orgasm washed over you.
"fuck, you're unreal... m'gonna cum baby" he breathed, still trying to keep up the pace but to no avail.
you threw your arms around his neck, looking deep into his eyes. "cum inside me rafe, please, fill me up" you begged, and this was enough to send his head into space and for him to finally release into you with low grunts as he slowed down his thrusts.
he collapsed on top of you, lazily kissing you all over after lying there for a minute in pure bliss. you ran your fingers through his messy bangs and kissed him on the forehead.
"god i love you." he breathed, kissing you deeply. you smiled into the kiss, it was soft and loving. all while he was still inside of you.
"i love you too rafe"
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rueclfer · 5 months ago
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Fake Dating // Bakugou
a/n: hi all, i am back from the dead with this shit that took me DAYS to finish bc my brain is def not used to writing anymore. pls enjoy and maybe keep a look out for PART 2 if people want it !
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You stare at your phone in disbelief. The audacity he had to tell you where to go, how to dress, and to essentially perform in front of everyone for him. Of course this was a mutually beneficial agreement, but at least you only dragged him along to your family functions sparingly.
You two had come to this agreement early last Winter when family members kept pestering you about potentially finding a love interest at your new University, and for him when he couldn't shake off all of the romantic confessions from the students in the other classes.
No one else knew about your arrangement. What made it so much more unbearable was the fact that you shared the same cohort and friend group, so it was a constant facade whenever you're in each other's presence with the others around.
You felt a bit awkward coming to the party alone, and a few hours late. You could hear the bass thumping through the door from the front yard, and from the looks of it, there were far more people than you expected, but on the bright side, it'll be easier to be invisible within the crowd than have to hold up this facade all night.
You approached the front to see Jirou catching a breath of fresh air. She had a drink in one hand and her other interlocked with Momo's
"Are you guys already tapping out?" You asked, taking the steps up the porch.
"Y/N!! For a second I thought you weren't going to make it!" Jirou says, releasing Momo from her grasp and giving you a big hug. "I'm so happy you're here."
"Can't blame me for always being fashionably late” You embrace her back.
"Better now than never." She drunkenly chuckles “Bakugo’s been a moody bitch all night please go contain him”
“Are we surprised?” You roll your eyes and laugh. “Where are you two off to?”
"I'm gonna take Momo out for some air and to maybe vomit, but go inside and I'll find you later!"
“I love you Y/N!! Take a shot for me!!” Momo slurs and blows you a kiss as Jirou drags her away.
"I love you too, Mo! I'll catch you guys inside."
Once you stepped foot inside, it felt like the air from your lungs were instantly replaced with the thick fog of weed and cigarette smoke. It was suffocating, but all too familiar at the same time. You recognized many of the faces around from campus, but none of which were your close friends.
Before anything else, you decided to stop by the kitchen to pour yourself something to drink. To be honest, you weren't picky with your liquor. As long as it did its job, you weren't going to complain. You grabbed a red solo cup off of the stack and poured in a shot and some change worth of cheap vodka.
Mina has to have some red bull somewhere around here…
You quickly down it and refill another cup to carry around while you look for your ball and chain, Katsuki. You wander around the crowd for a few moments, waiting for someone you knew to catch your attention, but no one did. You decide to take a break to lean against a wall and to send Katsuki a text to see where he was hiding. Before you could even get your phone unlocked, you received a notification from him.
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After he sent the last message, you looked up and searched for his meeting eyes. He said he was looking right at you, but for some reason you couldn't find those fiery eyes.
“Looking for someone?” A low voice breaks you from your search.
You turn to see Katsuki leaning up against the wall right beside you, almost shoulder to shoulder.
“Hmmm yeah I am, actually. Have you seen my boyfriend?” You turn to him fully. “He’s tall, messy blonde hair, kind of has a stupid look to his face, really hot though, trust me, and also like a medium build?”
You catch a glimpse of the smallest smirk on his face.
“Yeah? Well I’ll be sure to keep a lookout for him. In the meantime though, can you keep an eye out for my girlfriend? Angel faced, toothy smile, obnoxious ass laugh though, like if you hear honking, it's probably them.” He retaliates.
You both stare at each other in silence before you break character and playfully punch him in the arm. “Shut up, idiot. I don't honk.”
“You do. Like a goose.”
"You're so good at this flirting thing, Katsuki. Keep it up." You say sarcastically.
"It is my job, after all."
He stealthily wraps his arms around your shoulder, bringing himself in closer to you. He damn near was caging you in against the wall, blocking out the rest of the party with his back.
“So what's the game plan for tonight?” You peered up at his towering figure.
“Hang out for a couple hours, do all that lovey bullshit and then I’ll take you home. Don't get too messy tonight either. I’m not trying to babysit.”
“Worry about yourself, lightweight.” You roll your eyes.
“And is this straight vodka?" He looks into your cup with disgust. "Are you mentally ill?"
“I couldn't find the red bull.” You shrug.
“So it's either that or straight vodka?”
“Yeah and? You have a problem with that?”
“Yeah I actually do. It's fucking insan-” He starts.
“Bakugou!” A voice interrupts behind him. “There you are!”
You two lock eyes for a brief second. Just when you were actually starting to enjoy yourself with annoying Katsuki, you remember that you were only here for one reason. Katsuki's jaw clenched as he turned over to lean back against the wall beside you.
“Oh. Y/N you’re here too.” They say in a deflated tone. “I was just wondering if you could give us a second to chat?” They bat their eyelashes.
“I'm not in the mood to chat.” He says, pulling you closer by the waist.
“We’re actually about to go meet up with the others. Catch him next time.” You smile sweetly, interlocking your fingers with his and dragging him towards the backyard.
To your surprise, your friends were actually all there surrounding the firepit.
Denki was the first to spot you. He gasps and jumps up from his seat.
"You're here!" He nearly trips over his own feet trying to get over to you. He pulls you in a big hug, sweeping you off your feet. "Oh my god Y/N I missed you so much I could cry right now."
He was clearly a drink or two over his limit. His cheeks were bright red and he was already starting to sweat through his shirt.
“I missed you too, Denks.” You let yourself get twirled around by him.
“Finally you're back, I’m tired of holding onto your nasty drink.” Kirishima says, passing a red solo cup to Katsuki once he sat down.
You tried to take the empty seat next to him, but he immediately grabbed your wrist to pull you to share his chair. Your eyes widen at his own, as if you could telepathically curse him out. You clench your jaw as you feel a hot flash across your face.
“It’s cold. Stay close.” He simply says.
You nervously chuckle. “There's a fire right there, babe.”
“Do it for me then.” He smirks.
You silently groan to yourself as you lean back into his chest in defeat. Luckily, the chair had enough width to allow you to not have to fully sit on his lap, moreso just a leg slung over his own.
“Try this.” He lifts the solo cup to your lips.
You peer down at the dark red liquid in his cup. The smell burnt your nose. You shot him a weary glance before you downed his concoction, having to pinch your nose right after to subdue the burn. The shock of spicy and tangy residue left your throat burning with every inhale.
"What the fuck is that?" You choke out, continuing to pinch your nose.
"Fireball, lemon juice, and OJ." He smiled mischievously. "Thoughts?"
"The nerve you have to comment on my drink after sipping on this bullshit all night? It tastes like piss.”
He shrugs, wearing a lazy smile as he grips the softness of your inner thigh, with his other arm wrapped around your shoulder, fiddling with a lock of your hair.
You were internally screaming. Usually, there would be a hand holding or an arm around the waist or shoulder, but he was never this touchy whenever you had to act like a couple in front of your friends or even in front of the people trying to get at him.
You look around the firepit to see that all of your friends were in loud conversation with one another- laughing, arguing, and definitely not paying you two any attention.
“What are you doing?” You say low enough that only he could hear. “You're like, all up in my shit."
“5 o’clock, babe.” He simply says.
You slightly turn your head to your right to see the person from earlier, trying to not-so-obviously stare at you both.
“Tryna give them a show or something? You roll your eyes.
“Only if you'd let me.” He whispers.
You felt a chill crawl up your spine. God he's being gross. But you liked it. When you first made your little arrangement, you swore to yourself to not to catch any type of feelings for him, but the more time you spent charading around as a couple, the deeper you fell into this infatuation despite how hard you fought against it or played it off as a part of the bit.
“Don’t kill me, okay?” You whisper, meeting his eyes and forcing a smile.
You turned your head to fullyface his own and leaned in. Both of you were caught by surprise- his eyes widening right before you made contact. You two had never crossed this line before, let alone talked about it. It was only ever the unspoken rule of “don't catch feelings” and “no couple shit when we’re alone.”
His lips were soft and swollen as if he spent the last hour biting down on them. Once your lips crashed into his, it felt like your stomach was turning inside out, and a fire lit within.
It's fine, it's for show. It’s fine, you agreed to this. It’s fine, it’s not real.
You were fucked. You hated him, but you liked him. Maybe it was more than like. Maybe like isn't even the right word at all, but all you knew was that you needed to stop and take a second to reevaluate what you were doing with Katsuki.
In reality, the kiss lasted no more than 10 seconds, but it felt like you had fallen into the fire pit and laid in it for hours. Your body was on fire.
Once you broke away, you two stared at each other blankly, blinking away the realization of what had just happened. You didn't know whether to laugh and slap him on the shoulder, or start crying.
“I-I'm gonna go get another drink!” You suddenly exclaim, getting up and leaving him in his chair.
I'm so FUCKED.
You quickly snake your way through the large crowd that had filtered their way to the backyard. You stop by the kitchen to pour yourself a heaping cup of whatever liquor bottle was closest to you, down a large gulp, and take the rest with you to the bathroom.
Your head was starting to feel a bit hazy from the mix of second hand smoke as well as your drinks from earlier starting to settle in your stomach. Did you even eat anything before drinking like this? You weren't really expecting to have anything more than one drink, but after your kiss with Katsuki, you suddenly feel the need to forget it all.
You were sitting up against the bathtub, wallowing in your complicated mass of feelings, and now fully intoxicated. You let your head rest on top of your knees while you replayed every single interaction you've had with him tonight.
Your phone started buzzing on the floor next to you. You opened the screen, eyes squinting to adjust to the brightness.
Of course it was Katsuki.
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You sat and stared at your feet for a few minutes until you heard pounding on the door. Judging from the force of it, it was either a fucking SWAT team or Katsuki.
You grab a hold of the side of the bathtub to hoist yourself up, stumbling a bit while doing so and unlocked the door. Of course behind it was the latter.
He lets himself in and shuts the door behind him, leaning back on it.
You were wildly embarrassed for a multitude of things. You were on the verge of messy drunk, your face was stupidly hot and flushed, you kissed your fake boyfriend and ran away, you're swallowing down your feelings, and now here he is to reprimand you for all of it.
"Water as per requested." He pops open the cap of a fresh water bottle and hands it over to you.
"Thanks." You mutter and drink the water in silence.
"So are you upset at me?" He finally asks.
"Yes."
"And why is that?" He cocks his head to the side.
You were drunk, no doubt about it, but this unserious playful tone in his voice that pissed you off was clear as day. Why were you the only one freaking out? Did he not care? It surely confirmed that he does not and never have felt the same as you and truly did think of your "relationship" as nothing more but a transaction.
You purse your lips and remained silent.
"Because... you kissed me?"
You nodded.
"So you're upset at ME... because YOU kissed ME..." He states once more.
You were on the verge of tears. He loved making you look stupid but this was tenfold now. Not that he was wrong, but you weren't in the mood for it.
"So what if I am?" You choke out, tears now brimming over.
Katsuki's eyes widened, clearly not expecting you to break down so easily after a couple of harmless questions. You steps towards you and grabs your shoulders, not quite sure what to do or how to react.
"Hey hey hey, what the fuck? Why are you crying all of the sudden? Seriously, Y/N it's not a big deal."
"It is." You whine. "It is and you don't even care!"
He finally pulls you into him, letting you sob into his shoulder. His hand caressing your back in comfort.
"You idiot." He says after a moment of silence. "You're such an emotional drunk. This is why I told you not to get messy." He scolds. "I do care. But I won't if you don't want me to."
"I do want you to care. I want you to like me. Not just like me, but like-like me." You confess.
You feel him stiffen under you. Clearly your drunken state had forced you to say the wrong thing, but you didn't care.
"But do you like-like me?" He asked back, pulling you back to look at your tear stained face. "Drink some more water and sober up a bit before you answer okay?" He brings the water up to your face.
"I don't want anymore water!" You push his hand away. "I like-like you and I hate being your fake girlfriend and lying to everyone and myself about it!"
His smile grew, but he shook his head. "Okay angel face, let's talk about it then." He moves his thumb up to your cheek to wipe away stray tears.
"You're so wasted, you may not even remember this for tomorrow. But I think you're the coolest person on this fucking block, okay? And I like being around you even though you annoy the shit out of me sometimes. So stop crying and feeling bad. We're fine."
"But we're not! I don't want you to be my fake boyfriend anymore. I think you're cool too and you make me laugh and feel stupid in the heart and I fucking hate you for that, so that's why we shouldn't do any of this anymore."
He doesn't reply, but instead looks down at your sad face, lip still quivering, makeup smudged around your eyes. His hand continued to cup you cheek, forcing you to look back up at him.
Katsuki leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, letting it linger for a second longer.
"That's okay. We can do something about that when you're sober. If you even remember any of this, anyways. Let's get you home."
He grabs your hand and swiftly leads you out of the bathroom. You wonder what you had just done, whether it was going to blow up in your face (if you even remember the next day) or work itself out? Would it even matter?
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the-raindeer-king · 6 months ago
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(A/N: prt 3 of Mama Riley! One use of pronouns but it's nothing too gendered. Ignore any spelling error. I wrote part of this half asleep.)
Silence stretches out between you and Mama Riley. She's dropped an absolute bombshell of information so casually, as if it was like talking about the weather. And she's so confident in her statement, leaving no room for argument.
You're not entirely sure how to respond. But you manage to squeak out, “Is that so?” which is such a bad response. You can't help but cringe at yourself.
It makes Mama Riley laugh though. She really does like you. You're a firecracker, in her opinion, and she thinks you'd be good for Simon. But she promises that if you don't want to date him, that's okay. You two were friends before Simon caught feelings, and she won't let anything change that. She tells you to at least consider it.
You spend the next week considering it. Looking back over your interactions with Simon, knowing how he feels, it feels almost obvious. He's tense around you because he likes you. He keeps bringing you gifts and remembering your favorite drink because he likes you.
But where do your own feelings lie? You hated him in the beginning, and gradually warmed up to the mountain of a man. But do you have feelings for him? The thought process makes your head spin, and there's a weird feeling in your chest. The question is no closer to being answered.
Not until he returns from deployment. He's got a new scar on his ear, and there's a limp in his walk. Caught a knife in the side, just barely missed anything important, he informs you and his mum. And your heart clenches at the thought.
Before you can really think about it, you're scolding him for being so casual about being injured. He's got people who care about him, he can't be so flippant about these things. He has a reason to come home, so he needs to act like it. If not for his own sake, then for you and his mom.
Despite the fact that you're chewing him out, there's this tender look on his face, affection in his eyes. He quietly huffs out a ‘yes ma'am/sir’, and the warmth in his eyes is reflected by the warmth growing on your cheeks.
There's a pause, something heavy in the air. Simon opens his mouth, ready to say something, but the moment is broken when Mama Riley comes bustling into the living room, dinner plates in hand. Her eyes dart between the two of you for a moment, a knowing smile on her face. But she doesn't comment on anything, just passes out dinner and settles down on the loveseat.
Over the next few weeks, you and Simon have a lot of tense moments, ready to finally admit your feelings to each other. But each time is ruined by some interruption. Mama Riley interrupts, your phone rings. Once, the kids down the hall came running past, shrieking about the upcoming snowfall.
Poor Simon is trying not to totally lose it. This is the closest he's gotten to admitting his feelings, to have you finally, and every time something interrupts you. He doesn't want to mess this up. It needs to be perfect because, in his head, that's what you deserve, that's how he's going to win you over. Unbeknownst to Simon, he's already won your heart. He just needs to ask you out.
Once again, it's Mama Riley to the rescue. You three have a tradition: the days leading up to Simon's next deployment, you all spend the night at Mama Riley's flat together. Now, Simon's on leave for the next few weeks, but she can't bear to watch the two of you struggle like this.
So she invites you both over, insisting that it'll be nice to have you both over for something fun instead of sad. And then she conveniently remembers that she's got a book club tonight, and she leaves, telling you two to get comfy, watch a movie. She'll be back.
Now's a better time than never, especially since Mama Riley's practically given you the chance. She's gone all of two seconds, before you whip your attention onto Simon, blurting out, “Your mom told me you're in love with me. Is that true?”
2K notes · View notes
hugsandharrystyles · 2 months ago
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SUMMARY: One phone call was all it took to change the course of your sex life.
Word Count: 5k+
"You're not understanding me right. I never said the sex wasn't good."
"You essentially did," Your friend counters. "He doesn't make you cum," Her voice a little too loud to be on speaker but fortunately you were in the comfort of your own home by yourself. Harry was supposed to be at the gym.
Harry was not at the gym.
Harry was at your bedroom door listening to your conversation. He had just made it back when a very interesting conversation involving his name made his ears perk up.
"Harry is the best sexual partner I've ever had. He's so good- it's a me thing. I've never been able to... finish with someone before," You explain because you don't want anyone to think Harry was bad in bed. He's far from that. He just doesn't make you cum.
"Isn't that the whole idea of sex though? To fucking finish?" Your friend tells you.
"I've just come to terms with the fact that some of the things I like in the bedroom... are not going to be explored."
"What do you mean?" Your friend asks.
"You know, just like... rougher things- kinkier things," you say bashfully.
"Like what?!" Your friend pushes.
"I don't know. Some choking, manhandling, assertiveness- that type of thing. I would really enjoy some casual dominance anytime really."
"Oh, wow," Your friend says.
"I know. I'm a fucking freak," You sigh and drop your head to rest on your bed in agony.
"No! I didn't say that! Hey, I like that type of stuff too. Why don't you just talk to Harry-"
Harry was livid. His heart was beating faster now than any time during his workout. He was so angry with himself that he hasn't made you trust him enough to tell him how you feel. How he hasn't been able to satisfy you. He'd made you think you were a freak.
"No- look. I don't fucking care if I finish or not. The sex is so good, and I just like having him that close to me. He's not very big on... being touchy any time else, which is totally okay, but I don't want to take the time I do have him so close to me for granted."
There was a sudden dip in the bed and a body weight being pressed against you as you laid flat on your stomach. You almost screamed until you felt a hand reach around and wrap around your throat and turn your head.
Harry was behind you, on the back of your thighs, looking down at you with a look you've never seen from him- from anyone.
Your friend droned on, never noticing your silence. Harry grabbed your phone with his other hand still wrapped around your neck and took the phone off speaker, putting it up to his ear.
"Hey, this is Harry. We're a bit busy at the moment- actually we're going to be busy for quite a long moment, so don't call anytime soon." With that he hung up and threw your phone on the bedside table. "So," Harry begins after a quiet minute. "Anything you want to tell me?" He asks. He flips you around so you're lying on your back with him straddling your front, completely at his mercy. You don't know whether to cry or squeeze your thighs together.
"Harry, I am so sorry that you had to hear that. I don't want you to think that-" You're momentarily stopped when both of his hands cup your throat, thumbs under your jaw so he can control your face. He angles your head up, so you finally look into his eyes.
"Look at me when you're speaking to me," He commands. You swear your pussy purrs. You can't help but squeeze your thighs together. You have never seen Harry like this.
"S-Sorry- I'm sorry. I don't- I don't know what to say," You finally get out.
"Tell me what I did to make you be afraid to trust me."
"No! Harry, that is not true at all!" You say angrily. He grips your throat a little tighter, and his eyes become a little sterner.
"Don't raise your voice at me." You audibly swallow. "Were you afraid I would be mad- hurt you?" He asks. One hand leaves your jaw to comb through your hair.
"No, Harry- I know you would never. I just- You're not really into... touching me all that much when we're not having sex, so I didn't want the only time when you want to touch me to be gone." You realized you had misworded your sentence as soon as you finished.
"You think I don't want to touch you?" He asks, and you can't tell if the anger in his voice is pointed at you or himself.
"No- I just-" You're abruptly paused when you feel the hand that was in your hair venture down between your thighs. You were only wearing panties and a big t-shirt, so Harry finds your clit very easily. You moan in surprise in grind against his hand.
"Trust me, I want to fucking touch you," he says. "I thought you were the one who didn't like all the touching," he explains.
"What- why?" You ask breathlessly, your body keening at his touch and the bit of weight he was resting on you.
"Every time I would, you would almost jump or just kind of tense up, so I didn't want to make you uncomfortable," he says and lets a finger tease at your entrance.
"N-no, you just- you make me so nervous," you gasp when he slides a finger into you.
"Why?" he demands.
"It's embarrassing," you whine and turn away from him, but he grips your jaw and makes you look at him.
"Why?" he demands again, and the look in his eyes tells you that you need to answer.
"You're so- I just find you really attractive. Anything you do turns me on, and I just get really nervous," you say bashfully. He adds another finger and curls them to find your spot. Your mouth drops in pleasure.
"You are aware that we are dating, correct?" he asks.
"Shut the fuck up," you whine and try to grind down on his hand. He gives you a pointed look.
"Be sweet to me. Don't talk to me like that," he says and very lightly slaps your face. It causes your jaw to drop and a moan to spill from your mouth. "You like that?" He asks and bends his face down to bite and kiss at your neck while continuing his movements on your cunt.
"Harry," you moan and scratch at his back. He groans into your neck and pulls his fingers from your underwear. He waits for you to stick your tongue out and take his fingers inside your mouth.
"Good," he praises and pulls his fingers from your mouth. He cups your throat with both of his hands and brushes his lips against yours. You tilt your head up and try to catch his mouth. "I want to give you everything you want," he tells you and gives you a passionate kiss.
"You do, baby," you assure him and kiss him again while wrapping your arms around his neck and run your fingers through his hair. He grabs your wrists, resting most of his body weight on you, and brings them to his lips.
"Tell me what you want from me," he demands while kissing your fingers.
"Harry," you sigh.
"No, tell me what you need from me. Don't think I don't want to do this. I am more than willing," he says with a sly smirk. You roll your eyes, and you both laugh. He becomes serious again. "Tell me what will make you cum."
"H, I don't know," you say honestly. "I've just never been able to with anyone."
"Okay," he says. "What do you do when you're by yourself?"
"What do you mean?" You question.
"How do you get yourself off," he expands.
"Oh! Um..." you blush.
"Listen," he begins and shifts positions so that he is sitting up on the bed with you in front of him. He holds your hands in his and plays with your fingers. "You have to trust me if you want this. I'm never going to push you, but I just want you to be comfortable with me," he explains. Your heart twists.
"I am comfortable with you, Harry!" you correct him. "It's just- everything is so intense with you in the best way possible." His eyebrow quirks.
"Explain."
"Like- I just feel everything so intensely with you. I don't mean to boost your ego any higher than it already is-"
"Hey!" He complains, and you both laugh.
"But you're just really fucking hot, and it's hard to be normal around you when you do your sexy stuff," you explain.
"My sexy stuff?" He laughs.
"Yeah, like your deep voice and- and your hands," his hands reach out to cusp the back of your neck.
"Yeah? What else, mama?" He asks and places a feather-light kiss to your cheek.
"Um- well, like this. I- I feel like any time you touch me, I go braindead," you explain. He works his lips up to yours and slips his tongue into your mouth, craning your head back, so he can kiss you deeply. He groans into your mouth when you suck on his tongue out of animalistic need. "I need you," you whine.
"Tell me what you want. Do you want to just keep kissing for a bit? I can eat your sweet cunt or just finger you," he suggests and paws at your breasts.
"Can we- uh-"
"What, sweetheart? Tell me."
"Can we just... dry-hump and make out some?" You ask, your face turning a dark red out of embarrassment of the vulgar language.
"Of course, honey. Come here," he says and scoots to the end of the bed so that he's leaned against the headboard. He grabs your waist and pulls you on top of him, straddling his lap. "Can I take your shirt off?" He asks.
"Of course, Harry. You don't have to be so gentle with me." He gives your face a light smack again.
"Lose the attitude," he commands, and you try to squeeze your thighs together, but you end up just grinding against his bulge making both of you moan. He kisses up your throat while his hands toy with the bottom of your shirt. "You're turned on, yeah?" He asks.
"I'm so horny, H," you whine and grasp onto his shoulders to grind against him better.
"Good," he sighs and tugs your shirt off, eyes widening at your bare tits that he's seen many times. "Fuck," he whispers. He spends a bit of time sucking and kissing at your breasts while you cradle his head to your chest.
"H, I wanna kiss you," you whine, and he finally lets up on your tits. His hand cradles your throat in a firm but comfortable grip, allowing him to move your head in any way he wants to. The tension is high when his lips finally meet yours. His free hand slides down to your ass while yours are roaming underneath his shirt.
"You can take it off," he says against your lips, and you both only pull back from each other to get his shirt off. His lips are back on yours, and his hands slide to your hips, helping you grind against him.
"Can you take your pants off too?" You ask timidly.
"'Course, baby," he says and taps your hips so you will move off him while he takes off his sweatpants. He places you back on his lap once he's just in his briefs. He's hard as a rock, and you can tell he's trying his best not to lose control. You kiss his lips softly, and he moans in surprise.
"I love you," you tell him. "And I trust you."
He smiles. "Thank you, sweet girl. I love you more." His hands move back to your hips and grinds your crotch against his while he slips his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues clash, and you both moan as his bulge presses perfectly against your core. You both breathe heavily against each other's mouths as you grind against him. "Do you feel good?" He asks, and you moan against his lips while nodding.
"So good," you tell him and claw at his chest. "Can we take off our underwear?"
"Don't have to ask, baby. Just tell me what you want, and I'll do it," he assures you. You smile and crawl off his lap to slide your underwear off, and he follows quickly. As soon as he gets back on the bed, you sit back down on his lap and place him perfectly against your pussy. "Ah, fuck," he moans, and his hips flex up. A bead of precum falls from his tip, and you smile.
"I want your cock in me," you whine and grab his fat dick, trying to line him up with your entrance. Before you could slip the tip in, you're suddenly being thrown onto the bed, Harry hovering over you. "What the fuck, Harry?"
"Not yet," he says and begins to kiss down your body.
"But- you said I could have what I wanted," you protest.
"I need you to cum first."
"Harry, that's not important to me," you say with annoyance in your voice. You really did just want his dick inside you.
"It's important to me. Now, I need you to be comfortable with me. Trust me, baby. If I do something you don't like, tell me. If you want something, tell me. Got it?"
"Okay," you sigh. He slaps your thigh, and you yelp.
"You've got some serious fucking attitude tonight," he says.
"I just want you to fuck me- Oh!" You're cut off by Harry planting a kiss directly onto your clit. He spreads your legs and presses your knees to your chest to have full access. He presses his tongue as deep as it can go into your whole and curls it upwards. Your eyes cross as he tongue-fucks you. His eyes are closed in pleasure, and he's moaning like you're the one giving him head. He swirls his tongue inside you before moving to flicking at your clit. "Oh, fuck that's good, Harry," you moan and tangle your fingers into his hair.
"Give yourself to me," he moans against you.
"I feel so good, Har," you tell him, and feel a tightening in your gut that you've only ever felt when pleasuring yourself. "Harry, I feel it."
"Good fucking girl, let me make you cum," he says and doubles down his efforts on your pussy. His hands grip your thighs harshly and spreads you even further. You can't even think about where his tongue is working because of how fast he's going. His head shakes, and he moans so his mouth vibrates against you.
"I- I think I'm going to cum- don't stop," you cry and grasp his hair, holding his face hard against your pussy and grinding however you want.
"Use me," he muffles against you and just sticks his tongue out, letting you use him in any way you need. His hands reach up to tweak your nipples, and that's what throws you over the edge. You swear you black out. It's the most intense orgasm you've ever had, and you feel tears leaking from your eyes from the relief of having an orgasm from someone else. Your hands unleash Harry's hair, and your body twitches as he continues to lick at you. You close your thighs and push at his head.
"Oh my gosh," you sob and gasp for air. You cover your face with your hands as you catch your breath. You hear Harry giggle and feel him kiss his way up your body.
"Why are you covering your face?" He asks and removes your hands, resting his body weight on top of you. "Thank you, baby- for trusting me."
"Thank you for being patient with me. That was the best orgasm I've ever had," you laugh and kiss him. You both kiss for a minute before you reach down and stroke his cock, tapping it against your sensitive clit. His mouth falls agape, and his hips jut forward.
"Do you still want to have sex, or do you just want to cuddle?" He asks to be sweet, but you can see the desperation on his face.
"H, I want you to fuck me, and I want you to cum inside me," you tell him honestly, and he moans as you make his tip catch your hole. He pulls his hips back.
"I- I'm going to be honest. I'm not going to last long because I've been so fucking turned on for so long, so I'm sorry-" You cut off his rambling with a kiss.
"Harry, you are the most wonderful person and boyfriend in the world, so I don't care if you finish quick," you assure him and cup his jaw. "C'mon, Har. Put your fat cock in me. I wanna feel the stretch."
"You're so fucking hot," He moans and slips the tip in. His jaw stays dropped as he slides in further, his eyebrows furrowing together, and you can tell he's trying so hard not to cum. "Ah, fuck. Best pussy I've ever had- it's so- so fucking good," he groans and drops his head to your shoulder. His grip on your waist is bruising as he just moves your body however he wants onto his dick.
"That dick is so fucking good, H," you whine and press your heels against his ass, so he falls farther into you and rests himself against you. Your pussy is sopping wet and tight, and Harry fears he's going to cum when he hasn't even been inside of you for four minutes. He suddenly pulls out quickly when he feels his orgasm approaching. "Harry- what the hell?" You whine.
"It was too much. I'm really trying to last here, you brat," he argues and takes a moment to try and calm himself down.
"I don't care if you cum early, Harry, c'mon. Just want your dick inside me," you groan and grip his waist, trying to shove him back in you. "You told me that if I told you what you want, and you would give it to me. You're breaking your promise."
"Brat," he mutters through gritted teeth and begins to push into you again. As soon as he begins to enter you again, his hand starts to rub at your clit.
"Oh!" You moan, and your thighs tighten around him. Your hands claw at his sides as you try to kiss him through both of your moans. "I think- I think I'm going to cum again," you tell as your tummy begins to tighten again- stronger this time.
"Oh, baby, please. Please cum for me," he begs. You can feel his cock twitching in you, him on the verge of his own release. "Y/N- fuck, sweetheart. You have to cum- Baby, you gotta- I'm sorry," He babbles like crazy, and you don't understand his apology until you feel his cum start to spurt into you, and that's what tips you over the edge. You're a mess of shaking bodies, moans, and whines. "Oh, thank God- good fucking girl," he moans.
As you both begin to calm down, he relaxes himself on top of you and wraps his arms around your body.
"That was a real one, right?" He asks.
"Yes, Harry," you laugh and stroke his hair.
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bigfatbimbo · 3 months ago
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Silly request but imagine helping Bill "groom" his triangle self. Gently wipe him with a cloth. Carefully dip it in the little space between the bricks, can't leave that zone unclean! Alternatively, a classic soapy bubble bath. Silly straws included, what the hell, he's probably drinking the bath water and listing the chemical ingredients back at you while you gently rub him clean. Fun times
The Bug Collector
1.1k words,, Bill Cipher x reader
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a/n — Procrastination killed my soul during this, I think it turned out okay, though! Sorry for typos, your girl is tired.
warnings — SFW, post!weirdmaggedon, as ‘fluffy’ as you can get with Bill cipher, he is his own warning, kinda toxic relationships, fluff and bill being pathetic
summary — Reader assists a recently fallen Bill Cipher in self care, despite his general all-mighty asshole-ness.
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The exoskeleton of a bug was practical, a water-tight barrier most commonly known for muscle attachments, and its use to shelter and protect the insects gushy insides from its harsh environment. 
The exoskeleton of a triangle was for mostly for aesthetics, as the underneath was far more horrifying than anything in the harsh environment around it. Or so the triangle claims.
You dipped a soapy sponge into the bucket in front of you, as bill propped his feet up on the bathtub. 
“You conquer worlds and destroy planets, but yeah, why not draw the line at cleaning yourself.”
“Please, what better way to make use out of my new human pet— partner, than this?” He corrected loudly and purposefully. Then looking to the side, he mumbled, “And besides, kid, you have no idea how hard it is to clean between the bricks. Euck— So many blind spots.”
The first part was a throwaway reminder that he had far more power than you in this dynamic, something you’d picked up on Bill casually doing in his time with you. 
Being roommates with a butt-hurt demon, given the ending of weirdmaggedon, allowed you the privilege of being more cautious than previous humans were with Bill. For example, you’ve taken to keeping track of his repeated habits and patterns. 
On of which, just so happened to be reminding you how small you were compared to him. 
You jabbed the sponge in-between on of the bricks, “Ow!” He narrowed his eye at you, “Watch it, pal. I’m starting to think you’ve never cleaned a triangle before.”
“I’d hate to give that impression.” You softened your hold on him, “Delicate work, I always say.”
And it was delicate work. After his defeat, he’d been roughed up a surprising bit, powers even weakened. 
Weakened.
“Not too delicate,” he shot you glance. Guess he’d heard that thought process. 
Although, most days he’d seemed to be in a thought process of his own. Weird.
You cleared your throat, “How often does this even need to be done?”
He blinked, “Well, let’s see. Once every—“ he waved his hand around “—few hundred years. Very high maintenance, do not recommend it.”
High maintenance, yeah. At this point, Bill had taken to talking about some other topic, you hadn’t been really listening, something about intergalactic food joints.
Every once and a while he’d bring up something that happened with one of his ‘henchmaniacs’ before getting slightly irritated at the lack of presence in his life now, and changing the subject. 
Bill was interesting to study, you couldn’t lie. His eyelashes curled away from each other, like the mangled legs of a recently dead spider. His hands were very present when he talked, like most people of business. His body flicked side to side slightly at certain moments. 
You became more gentle naturally, taking care of every crevice, and for some reason Bill becomes gradually quieter.
“Something wrong?” You asked, not stopping.
Bill blinked, “Eh, been a minute since i’ve had a human servant. Maybe, I was thinking of other things you can help with!”
You sigh, “Yeah, because i’m your servant. As if.” In your mind, your thinking do the fact he was your roommate, in your house, eating your food. 
“Hey, don’t get all butt-hurt. You’re all ants to me, buddy, nothing to be ashamed of!” His eye flicked back and forth between you and the room.
Then you stop scrubbing, “Bill, I might as well be your landlord.” You know he can read your thoughts, so you make a point to justify yourself. Already weakened from his failed apocalypse, anything other than vague respect for you would land him homeless. Most likely, his response to this would be killing you, but there’s only so much he can do afterwards. 
He’d have a place to stay, but with no electricity or heating, and in his damaged physical form he actively does need those things. And trying to get a new human would be a hassle, and unlike you, no guarantee they’d let him stay there without calling the authorities.
“Yeesh,” Bill remarks, “Buzzkill… You are still a bug compared to me, though—“
You drop the sponge in the bucket, “I think you’re done.”
He looks taken aback when you pull away, “What? Come on, over the bug comment? Jeez, buddy—“
“No I mean you’re actually done,” you gesture to his body, now shining and slick with soap suds. “I got everything, there’s nothing else to do.”
You go to turn around before you feel a small hand grabbing for the back of your shirt. 
“Wait, wait!” He breathes, eye farting from side to side, “… You have to dry me off first.”
He looked slightly panicked, like if you stopped taking care of him now, you’d leave and never come back. Your thought process earlier couldn’t have helped. 
The way he scurried and gasped for you was reminiscent of panicked earwig and a rock is lifted up. The comparison should have grossed you out, but it kinda just made you feel a little bad.
If he was paying attention to your thoughts, he didn’t show it. This would have usually given you the impression he’d wanted you to be thinking the way you were, but he seemed a little wrapped up in his own head. 
“Come on, kid. Don’t tell me you’re gonna kick me out because I asked you to dry me off. One last thing and then you don’t even have to talk to me the rest of the night! Sounds like a good deal, right?” 
His slightly desperate looking sales pitch was met with a sigh, you picked up a dry towel and began to pat the soap suds off of him. His body slowly breathed in, making it look like he was sighing, but no noise came out.
You wondered then if he was actually touch-starved, but cut your thoughts there because this time he had nothing better to do then pay attention to what you were thinking. 
“Ouch, i’m not that desperate, pal.” But he was.
His exoskeleton was dry, but you didn’t stop patting him down. His eyelid shut slowly, and the spider-legs on them curled into each other once more. 
The exoskeleton of a bug was practical, but one of a triangle seemed to simply be for aesthetics. 
However, on some rare occasions, it possesses the same desire for love as human bodies. Only, when very desperate, of course. 
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shyhaya · 8 months ago
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Hii! Can i plzzzplz request hcs/ or scenario of Barou,Rin, Kunigami and isagi liking the manager of their schools soccer team :DD???
Hi darling, here's your request! please forgive me for taking so long
──────♡──────
Oh Wait, Am I In Love? [Barou Shoei, Itoshi Rin, Kunigami Rensuke & Isagi Yoichi x GN! Reader / SFW]
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❯── Barou ──❮
What an interesting situation.
I don't think he would notice his own feelings towards you until he's in too deep.
His teammates certainly noticed before him but they were all scared of telling him anything.
Nevertheless, maybe he heard them talking about his 'soft' if we can call it that attitude towards you.
He did treat you like a peasant, like everyone else, but he actually listened to you when you talked.
Plus, you got to be around him and even tease him sometimes and not even once he reacted brashly towards you!
Everyone in the team is shocked.
When he finally realizes this fact, his entire view of you changed slightly.
Now he understood why he tolerated your presence and even liked to hang out with you.
He was a bit clueless on how to approach you on this topic, but he's driven by the thought of possibly having even more of your attention.
Congratulations! You've been promoted from useful peasant to the King's consort! :3
──────♡──────
❯── Rin ──❮
This one's tough.
Rin can be dense sometimes, but he was the first one to realize he fancied you.
It wasn't even obvious to anybody else, but he noticed the slight changes. How he found you attractive and not a lukewarm like the others.
He liked your advice and actually followed it, and your presence always helped him concentrate or not during practice and even real games.
But what is Rin Itoshi if not a stubborn brat?
He wouldn't tell you about his feelings right away.
If someone notices his almost kind attitude towards you he would deny it or just say it isn't anyone's business.
Soon though, he gets jealous of the rest of team because they're all nice and close to you.
This would be enough for the dam he built to contain his feelings to break.
He had a feeling you liked him too, so there's no way he's letting you go.
Good luck.
──────♡──────
❯── Kunigami ──❮
Oh, Rensuke baby, love, honey- I'll stop now.
He's clueless at first.
You're really nice to everyone, so he naturally gets along with you.
He doesn't find different how he's soon hanging out with you often he's like a big puppy!
During practice he's focused and still can't help but to glance at your direction, finding you adorable as you watch the practice match and how your eyes sparkle as they meet his.
Every time someone from the team mentions you, he immediately perks up.
His teammates realize this and they are the ones who make him realize.. he did like you, but in a whole different way than the rest of them did.
After that he gets a bit flustered every time you're close or when you get worried if he gets hurt during a game or practice.
He's an honest guy though, so he would tell you. No beating around the bush.
He's hopeful that you'll accept him, and can't wait to have you his own I accept my love, I'll even marry you if you want-
──────♡──────
❯── Isagi ──❮
Man, he realized his feelings for you fast.
He was kinda clueless at first, but after analyzing your interactions and how he couldn't help but to admire you, he accepted he was smitten.
He's the one who's all flustered when you're being your usual kind self and asking him if he's alright.
Stutters a bit more and is distracted by how pretty you are.
It's adorable how he tries to act normal but he's also trying to compliment you and maybe give you some clues about how he feels.
All of his teammates notice this and soon they're all teasing him every time they see him looking at you during practice.
He wants to test the waters first, figure out if you like him before he confesses.
If he notices even a slight chance of you liking him back, then he will take the chance. It's what s striker does anyway.
He's so sweet when he actually tells you.
Please say yes, this guy spent all night thinking of all the possible scenarios of how his confesión would go.
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redroses07 · 5 months ago
Text
Just Friends // Stiles Stilinski
Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader
WC:1.7k
Summary: Stiles is struggling after being controlled by the Nogitsune, and he turns to you for help. But little does he know, it will turn your friendship into so much more. Takes place after season 3. (Allison isn't dead!!!)
Warnings: Swearing, angsty as fuck, sad Stiles, kissing, implied smut if you squint?, PTSD.
A/N: HI GUYS!!! I really like this fic and ofc I hope y'all will too! This is my first time writing about Stiles and I think I did pretty well! As always, enjoy!! And comments and reblogs are appreciated. P.S. lmk if y'all want me to do a part 2 where they tell their friends (Scott's reaction hee hee) - Claire ♡
After Stiles was released from the control of the Nogitsune, things seemed to go back to normal. Well, at least that’s what one would think from the outside.
The series of events had taken a severe toll on Stiles’s mental health, and even though he did a good job of hiding it, you were the one person who seemed to know what he needed.
It all started about a week after everything happened, it was the middle of the night and you were jolted awake by the sound of your phone buzzing by your head.
You were about to hit decline but then you saw it was Stiles and feelings of worry began to stir within you.
You quickly answered, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you forced yourself awake.
"Stiles, is everything okay?"
"Yeah...well not really. I hate to ask, but do you think you could drive over to my house. I just really don't want to be alone right now." Stiles's voice was groggy, and laced with exhaustion. The fact alone that he was asking you this made you immediately agree.
You hopped out of bed, not bothering to change out of your pajamas, slipped on your slippers, and you were on your way.
Your house wasn't far from Stiles's, about a five minute drive with no traffic.
You lived directly in the middle of him and Scott, being only a short distance from each. The close proximity was the main reason the three of you had stayed so close throughout your school years.
"Friends", that's all you and Stiles had ever been. Although, neither of you could deny the chemistry between the two of you, risking your friendship never seemed worth it.
It was on this night that all that would begin to change.
When you arrived at Stiles's house, he had left the door unlocked for you so you wouldn't have to fumble around with the spare key in the dark.
You found Stiles laying on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. He looked lost in thought, his eyes rimmed with dark circles. It hurt seeing him look so drastically different from the Stiles you knew, and you wanted to do whatever you could to help.
You laid down next to him, your body facing his.
"Hey..." Stiles began, still staring at the ceiling.
"Stiles, what's going on? You know you can trust me with anything right?"
"Yeah...It's just a lot to put into words." Stiles's voice cracked, which told you that he was fighting tears.
You sat up and stiles copied the movement. You were now both facing each other, sitting legs crossed on his bed. You pushed aside the unspoken vow between the two of you and placed his hands in yours. Stiles's breath hitched, and you could tell he was avoiding eye contact with you.
"Take all the time you need, I'll listen to every word." you said softly.
"I know everyone thinks I'm doing okay, but I can't even function. I can't sleep without having nightmares. I can't eat or do anything without remembering all the awful stuff he made me do. I didn't know who else to tell except you. Scott has his own set of issues, and you're the only person I trust like this."
Stiles began to ramble, and your heart broke as he did. How had you not noticed earlier? Yes, it had only been a week, but you knew Stiles better than anyone. You felt like an awful best friend.
"I'm so tired, I just want to feel normal again." He could no longer hold back the tears, the dam broke and Stiles became a sobbing mess.
You pulled him into your arms with no hesitation, which only made Stiles want to cry.
"No, no I'm going to get your clothes all wet." Stiles protested trying to pull away, but you wouldn't let him.
"A few tears never hurt anyone." You said.
At that Stiles let himself fall into you, his body going limp with exhaustion. You tried not to cry along with him, wiping your burning eyes to prevent the tears.
"It'll be okay." You whispered as Stiles's sobs turned into sniffles. He finally looked up, his cheeks wet from the tears that had escaped his puffy eyes.
You did the only thing you could think of and gave him two kisses, one peck on each cheek. Stiles lips turned up in a small smile, his cheeks still turning red despite his current state.
"I think the first thing we need to do is get you to bed." You smiled, pushing Stiles's messy hair back.
He looks at you and nods without moving from your arms. You lean back on his bed, pulling him with you. You positioned yourself to where Stiles was resting on top of your body, his head pressed to your chest. You kept your arms wrapped around him, squeezing his body in an attempt to comfort him.
As you were settling down you heard Stiles whisper your name softly.
"Yeah?"
"Promise you'll wake me up if I'm having a nightmare?"
"I promise." You replied as you reached down and laced your fingers with his.
Stiles gave you a half-hearted smile in response, his puffy eyes glazed over from fatigue.
"Thank you." Stiles murmured, fighting sleep.
"Shhh." Was your only response as you traced your fingers along his back.
"I love you." It was an incoherent whisper, so much that you couldn't be sure of his words. But something told you you had heard correctly.
By the time you went to reciprocate the statement, the room was filled with Stiles's muffled snores.
You sighed and proceeded to fall asleep yourself.
Stiles slept through the night for the first time in weeks.
After that the trajectory of your relationship began to shift.
From holding Stiles's hand to remind him that everything was okay when you were with your friends, to staying up all night listening to him talk.
You rarely got to sleep at home anymore, but you didn't mind. You weren't far if you needed something, and it helped Stiles get a good night's sleep. Yet he would still apologize every time. "I'm sorry to bother you again.", "I promise this is the last time.", when in reality you were definitely okay with an excuse to spend more time with him.
You had become his anchor to reality, and Stiles could feel things beginning to look up with every day that passed.
Your friends picked up on it too.
"So, are you and Stiles together, or..." Lydia and Allison asked when they managed to corner you at your locker one day. It was a question you didn't know how to answer. Eventually landing on, 'it's complicated.'
"What's going on with you and Stiles, I'm starting to feel like a third wheel when we're together." It was a joke, but there was certainly some truth behind it.
You laughed it off and changed the subject, but didn't forget the comment that night when you and Stiles laid in each other's arms drifting off to sleep.
Surprisingly, it wasn't you who finally brought it up, but Stiles.
It was a Friday night, and the two of you were at your house instead of his.
"Shit, I forgot clothes to change into." Stiles said as he fumbled through his backpack.
"It's all good, I have a spare pair of clothes in my drawer for you." You replied, pointing to the dresser.
Stiles smiled and laughed, holding eye contact with you for perhaps a moment too long.
"You take care of so much for me, sometimes I feel like you're my wife." It was a casual statement, but it put you at a loss for words.
You laughed awkwardly, failing to come up with a reply.
Stiles could very clearly read your emotions, he pushed the drawer shut and walked back over to sit next to you.
You tried to calm yourself, but your heart wouldn't stop beating at what felt like an unhealthy pace.
"You're my best friend..." Stiles began, taking your clammy hands in his.
"You've done so much for me in the past few weeks, just like a best friend should; but I can't help thinking that this feels like something more."
You felt as if the world stopped. You knew this conversation would come, but definitely not now. Your brain seemed to stop producing thoughts.
"Please tell me I'm not imagining all of this. I know this is a lot at once, but Y/N I love you." Stiles's voice shook from the overwhelming nerves.
"I love you too." You spoke for the first time in minutes, it felt amazing after you had heard it fall from his lips that first night you spent together.
Stiles's eyes gazed into yours, and suddenly the feeling of just your hands touching wasn't enough.
You reached over and grabbed Stiles face, finally closing the gap between the two of you.
You pulled Stiles down as you did, his body landing on top of you sinking into the kiss.
You tugged on his hair lightly, pulling him as close to you as humanly possible. Stiles fell deeper into the kiss, locking your hands together and pressing your body further into the soft mattress.
After a few minutes of pure bliss you broke apart. The air that filled your lungs was both a blessing and a curse. You needed to breathe, but the absence of his touch only made you want him more.
Stiles hovered over you, the sound of his heavy breathing was the only thing you could hear over your own beating heart.
"So I take it you're not just my best friend anymore?" Stiles giggled, pressing his forehead gently against yours.
"Nope."
You gave a sly smile before pulling Stiles down by his shirt and connecting your lips once more.
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mrs-monaghan · 1 month ago
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Tbh I'm a jikooker, but I find it incredibly difficult to fit a healthy long-term relationship into the same timeline as all of jimin's solo work. It's not the pronouns or taking one lyric very literally, its the entire thing, plus comments from him and his producers. To me, you'd have to do some serious olympic level mental gymnastics to make that make sense. I don't doubt that jikook have a special bond, I've definitely seen things between them that definitely look like sexual attraction to me and things that surpass friendship boundaries, but I can't in good faith say that they're together in some official long-term way if I actually listen to jimin and his work.
I've seen some jikookers think they broke up for a while, but I have to question if those people have ever been through a breakup because the little bit of distance/separation/awkwardness we did see from them during chapter 2 is nothing compared to the type of tension that would be there if a relationship that intimate and intertwined had separated, especially considering the dark feelings jimin was feeling. He wouldn't have been cutely commenting on jungkook's lives and jungkook wouldn't have been asking to hang-out or getting excited to see jimin in his comments.
Idk, I'm sure someone could twist everything a certain way and only take certain things at face-value and then make everything else abstract, etc. to make the case that they are together, but I don't really see it. You look at face-off, alone, and just his general dark feelings during Face, then look at the creation of Muse and how him and his producers said he couldn't relate to the love-dovey beginning songs, which is how they ended up making Who (despite the fact that jikookers try to distance him from the song since he doesn't have writing credits even though he sat in the recording room telling them what he wanted and saying it felt like reading his diary). I think jimin could have very well gone through a pretty awful breakup along with the inner turmoil he was going through post-covid, but I don't think it was with jungkook if he did. I still enjoy jikook's bond either way at the end of the day, but yeah I don't really get how anyone can take an honest look at jimin's work and his words and think he was in a long-term healthy love-of-his-life relationship during that time or into chapter 2.
Not trying to change your opinion or anything, honestly I don't really see it discussed much in jikooker spaces (besides bad-faith stuff like tkkers stirring up shit over pronouns in lyrics which is just dumb) and when it is, some jikookers are pretty pick-and-choose about what they deem to be true to jimin's feelings and what isn't. Which I get being nuanced, but sometimes it does feel like a "well this fits my beliefs so clearly this is true to jimin and this doesn't so it means nothing because he didn't write it" or whatever. I honestly get annoyed with the bad-faith arguers because it prevents being able to have actual discussions about some of this stuff in our little jikooker corner of tumblr. Like "he said her, he's clearly straight! he danced with a girl, straight!" stfu.
I don't have much to say to you anon. Not really. Not anything that hasn't been said anyway. Which you've seen and decided its jkkrs doing mental gymnastics. "I'm a Jikooker but..." its never a great way to start a sentence. It just gives major insecure jkkr vibes which i just 😬😬😬😬😬😬😬 you either believe in them or you don't. There is no if, and or buts.
I will leave you with this; over the years, antis and (insecure) jkkrs alike have always found a way to conclude Jkk aren't as close anymore or they broke up or some other bullshit. But what happens everytime Jikook resurface and we see them together again?
NOTHING HAS CHANGED!!!
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Nothing ever changes with these 2! They come back closer, more in sync, happier, more in love and their relationship more established than ever. This happens every👏🏽damn👏🏽time👏🏽 Everytime!
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Then the insecure jkkrs will be like "jkk is real" again.
And then we will go without content for a while and once again we are back here with the jkk aren't as close argument. Once again. It is an exhausting cycle that I refuse to be a part of.
You can try and nit pick various reasons as to why Jikook aren't in an established rlship, but I will chose to focus on reasons why they are definitely 130000000% in a relationship. Like the fact that they are enlisted together rn, the fact that they could have done AYS with other members but chose eo. Or the fact that Jimin wrote his name on JK's chest with sunscreen and I dont even want to imagine how he did that. What position they were in that would justify people calling them brothers 😂
You do you anon. I'mma just be over here enjoying Jimin promote the hell out of his favourite JK song.
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Look at him so proud of his man 🥺🥺
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appocalipse · 8 months ago
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summary: you were way too drunk last night and said some funny things...so, of course, steve had no other option but take you to his place to take care of you. :)
read part 1 here
˚ ༘✶ ⋆。˚ ⁀➷
Your head hurts.
Everything feels a little weird, in fact, but especially your head, spinning and throbbing and, when you try to pry your eyes open, the sudden harsh light streaming into the room feels like it's physically boring straight through your brain.
"Fuck," you whimper pitifully, eyes squeezing shut once more. Your ears are ringing, there's a coppery film lining the inside of your mouth and, for a terrible second, your stomach churns dangerously. "Fuck."
Someone hums somewhere near your right ear. A low, gravelly, vaguely amused sort of hum. There is absolutely nothing and no one alive on this green earth that would hum in that particular fashion except your best friend.
You peel your eyelids apart with great difficulty. When you tilt your head to the right, you see Steve sitting on the edge of the bed, gazing down at you with a soft look on his face.
Naturally, you proceed to freak the fuck out.
"Jesus Christ," you cry, scrambling backwards until you feel the back of your head slam against the headboard with a resounding thud. The dull throb in the back of your skull intensifies, and you have to fight back the urge to throw up. "Ow! Shit, I—What—what happened? Why are you in my—"
Hold on a second...this is not your room.
You cast an anxious, furtive glance around the unfamiliar setting of Steve Harrington's guest room. Panic floods your veins and has your heart hammering in your chest when you notice that you're clad in only one of his shirts and sweatpants that definitely don't belong to you.
Oh, Dear Lord.
Did something happen last night that you can't remember? Did something — oh, God, no.
Steve raises his eyebrows at you as though he can read your mind. "Relax. Nothing happened, relax, come back down," he coos gently, placing a placating hand on your arm. "And I...I didn't see anything, if that's what you're worried about. Nancy and Robin, uh...they helped you shower and get changed last night. Not me."
You cover your face with both hands, letting out a muffled groan as your memories come trickling back in. You don't remember every little detail from the previous night, but what you do remember is already more than enough to fill you with mortification and regret.
"...you said some pretty interesting things while you were drunk, though."
"Shut up," you mumble, peeking up at him through splayed fingers, "go away."
"Really, though," Steve continues, the teasing glint in his eyes a sure sign that he is very much enjoying your suffering, "who knew you found me so attractive?"
"Oh, Jesus," you mutter, groaning as you slide down to hide underneath the comforter, "where are my clothes? I want to leave now."
Steve snickers but makes no move to get up from his perch on the bed. You can hear the rustling of fabric, like he's adjusting his position as he waits for you to come out from under the blanket. "Clothes are in the wash, sorry," he says, sounding very much not sorry at all. "You, um, thought it was a good idea to lie down on the grass last night."
"Kill me now."
"Nope," he chirps, quite cheerfully so, "can't do that, because then who would watch Back to the Future with me tonight?"
You part the comforter just enough to peer up at him from beneath the thick layer of blanket.
"'Back to the Future'?" you echo, trying to ignore the fact that you feel a little lightheaded when Steve smiles down at you.
He looks nice. He always does, but even more so now for some reason — you're guessing it has something to do with the fact that you just woke up and haven't had the time to mentally prepare yourself for seeing him up close yet.
"Mmhmm. You up for it?"
"I'm pretty sure that my head is literally going to explode any time now." 
It's really not that bad anymore, but Steve doesn't need to know that, does he?
He nods seriously in agreement. "Right, because you drank way more than you should've last night. Might have mentioned something about rules and...mhmm, what was it? Oh, yes, dying if I didn't let you touch my hair…?"
"No, I didn't."
"You really did," he tells you, leaning back on the heels of his palms, "but don't worry, it was cute."
"I am very much worried," you say miserably.
Steve lets out a quiet sigh and leans forward again, hands reaching out to tug the blanket down far enough to uncover your face completely. "Come on," he says, "do you need anything? Aspirin, maybe? Food? Water?"
You consider his offer, taking the time to mull it over while you avoid his gaze. 
"Why did you bring me home with you?" you ask, curious despite yourself. "Why didn't you just take me home?"
"You, uh...really didn't want me to. Pretty much refused to let go of me all night."
"Steve."
"No, really!" he insists, holding both hands up in surrender. "It was like trying to pry a koala off a tree. You even asked—"
You let out a helpless moan of protest and turn away from him as much as you can, hiding your face in the pillow. Steve laughs, clearly delighted by the fact that he's managed to thoroughly embarrass you in less than ten minutes.
"You asked me if I—"
"I don't wanna know!"
"—would sleep in your bed with you."
"Nope," you whisper, your voice coming out a little garbled due to the way you've pressed your face into the pillows, "don't wanna hear it. Shut up, Steve, oh my God. Please."
"It was very adorable."
"I was drunk."
"Still. Cute."
You prop your head up on your elbow so that you can see him a little better, keeping the blanket held tightly around your shoulders as you do. "Sorry I called you. I don't even remember doing it, Tina just told me to and…sorry."
Steve looks down at his lap, shifting a little uncomfortably on the bed.
"I don't mind," he says, lifting his gaze up to meet yours briefly. "You said you missed me. At the party."
A dry, humorless chuckle leaves you and you cringe when the sudden motion sends a sharp pain lancing through your forehead. "Ow. Of course you would remember that," you say, cheeks heating up.
"Do you...remember everything?"
You blink, momentarily confused by the sudden change in conversation. "Everything?" you ask, more to buy yourself some time than anything else.
"You, um..." Steve trails off, clearly unsure of how to broach the topic with you, "you said I made you feel…stuff inside. That you felt stuff. Or something like that. Do you...remember saying that?"
You can practically feel all the color draining out of your face, leaving behind a blank canvas that hides none of your inner panic. 
"Uh...no, no, I don't. Do you have a...I need to, um, use your bathroom, like, right now, if you don't mind."
Steve blinks. "Oh, okay. Sure. I bought you a toothbrush earlier, by the way. It's in the medicine cabinet if...if you want."
"Yep," you say, climbing out from under the blanket with as much dignity as you can muster (which is very little), "yep, okay, thanks. I'm...gonna go do that. Now. Okay, bye."
You spend a good five minutes inside the bathroom splashing water in your face while silently wishing for death to come claim you sooner rather than later. Then, you brush your teeth with the toothbrush Steve left out for you — which is totally not cute, it's not cute, why did he do that, ugh, damn him — before venturing out into the hall.
"Steve?"
"Kitchen," he calls out from somewhere at the bottom of the stairs, "you want pancakes?"
You hesitate.
The idea of staying to have breakfast alone with Steve Harrington seems oddly intimate after last night, a dangerous prospect that will undoubtedly lead to awkward small talk and more teasing. However, he did go out of his way to buy you a toothbrush this morning...
You swallow down the nervousness you feel and pad barefoot down the staircase into the foyer, following the sounds of clinking utensils and soft humming to the kitchen.
Steve looks up from his place at the stove when you appear in the doorway.
"Hey," he greets, giving you a quick once over. "How's your head?"
"Feels like there's a little person in there hitting it repeatedly with a little hammer," you admit, grimacing a little as you come further into the room and sit down at the island. "Thanks, by the way. For helping me out last night. And today. I really am sorry for...um, you know, that."
"'That'?"
You purse your lips and Steve grins.
"Yes, that," you mutter, swiveling your seat from left to right while you watch him attempt to read a recipe on the back of a box of pancake mix. "Drunk me is like, twice as embarrassing as sober me."
"Embarrassing isn't the word I'd use."
"Please," you scoff, "I was pathetic. I could barely walk by myself."
Steve glances back at you. "I didn't think you were pathetic."
You raise an eyebrow at him skeptically.
"Okay, maybe a little pathetic," he concedes with a little snort, "but mostly just…sweet."
"Sweet?"
"Yeah, sweet. Don't know if anyone's ever told you that before."
"Sweet," you say again, the headache suddenly no more than an afterthought. "That's how you'd describe me?"
Steve, apparently having given up on making sense out of the instructions on the back of the box, turns around to lean against the counter behind him and studies you with his arms folded loosely over his chest.
"Yes," he says, tilting his head to the side a little. "Not the word you expected me to say?"
There's something about the way he's looking at you. It's warm and piercing all at once, like he can see right through you. It makes it hard for you to breathe all of a sudden, hard for you to do anything but gape at him like a goldfish that's been pulled out of water.
"Uh, I'm...confused."
"Me too," he admits with a little huff of laughter. "I was thinking about what you said."
"About your hair?"
"No, well, yeah, but—" Steve pauses, dragging a hand down his face with a weary sigh. "Look, what you said to me yesterday, about the things I make you feel, I—"
"I said I'm sorry—"
"Don't apologize," Steve interrupts, shooting you an unamused look, "I'm trying to say something here, come on, give me a sec."
"Right. Sorry. Go on."
"You're not supposed to apologize for apologizing."
"I'm s—okay, right. Mouth shut."
Steve purses his lips to stifle his amusement at your antics. You fold your arms in front of your chest and keep your gaze fixed firmly on the marble countertop as you wait for him to continue.
"I, uh," he says, pushing himself away from the counter so that he can wander over to the other side of the kitchen, where you sit, "I feel things too, you know. With you."
"Oh."
"Yeah," Steve chuckles, scrubbing a hand across the back of his neck as he stops beside you, "'Oh'. Weird, right?"
You'd like to, but can't think of anything clever to say that would serve as a suitable response. You don't think Steve's looking for one, anyway, because he reaches out to tap his fingers lightly on the back of your hand, taking a seat on the stool next to yours.
"S'weird, 'cause I don't know if you meant what you said when you were drunk, or if it was just the alcohol talking, or what."
You shake your head quickly, and then wince because of the way the headache thuds behind your right eye.
"Robin says I'm an idiot and should stop being such a chicken," he continues, with a slight roll of his eyes. "And Eddie says if I don't 'shut up and tell you how I feel soon', he'll do it for me."
You nod, smiling despite your hangover. "Eddie's, uh, got a point, no?"
"Maybe," Steve allows, rubbing absently at the side of his neck.
He lets his hands slide down to the legs of your stool, fingers curling around the metal of each side. You don't quite understand what he's doing until he gives them a light tug, jerking you closer to him without warning.
You let out a little shriek of surprise as you reach up to clutch onto the first solid thing your hands find — his forearms. 
"Ah! What—Steve!"
He's got an amused smile on his face, but his eyes are bright and nervous all at once. Steve pushes your stool even closer to him, until your knees knock against his own and he's forced to lean down to keep his eyes on you.
You hold his gaze steadily as he edges closer. "What are you doing?" you murmur, watching his eyes flit downward to track the movement of your tongue as it peeks out to wet your dry lips.
"Not sure yet," Steve hesitates when your lips are a hairsbreadth apart. He watches, half-dazed, half-entranced by the way you stare back at him, unblinking. "But I've got a theory."
"A theory?"
He lowers his head toward yours. You press your hands flat against the hard plane of his chest to steady yourself, fingers splaying over the soft material of his t-shirt as you curl them around the fabric. Steve exhales, and you can feel his breath on your skin, a soft tickle that raises the goosebumps all over your skin.
"Wanna hear it?"
You nod slowly, aware of the way his eyes darken as they trace your face. He's so close that you can make out the fine dusting of freckles and moles that litter his skin, the long fan of his lashes as they flutter to a close. If you moved even slightly, your lips would brush against his.
"What's your…your theory?" you whisper.
You can feel his heartbeat thudding in his chest as he releases his hold on your stool, lifts both hands up to cradle your face instead. He slides the tips of his fingers along the side of your neck, lets his thumb trace your jaw.
"I think," Steve says, and you can tell he's struggling to string two coherent words together when you feel his thumb quiver against your cheekbone. "I think that, uh, you're—Christ, I—"
His nose brushes against yours and you tilt your chin up instinctively, chasing the brief contact. You smirk. "Christ, you...?"
"Shut up," Steve huffs out a breathless laugh. "I'm getting to it."
"Are you?" you tease, wrapping your fingers around his wrist, your turn to pull him towards you gently.
Steve goes easily, moving his hand from your face to brace the back of your neck. "I think," he starts, eyes crinkling at the corners, "that I might be in love with you."
It's such an unforeseen, unexpected confession that your heart almost gives out in your chest. 
You gape up at him, at his crooked grin, at his rosy cheeks. "You think?"
He blinks and then squints down at you like he can't decide whether he wants to be annoyed at your antics or kiss you. You hope for the latter, but he says, "What're you, a parrot?"
Shrugging, you're unable to keep your lips from quirking into a grin of your own. "Rude."
Steve's head falls forward and he rests his forehead against yours. You can feel his pulse thundering wildly against the hand you've pressed flat against his chest, and it makes you feel a little better about your own pounding heart.
"M'sorry."
You smooth a hand over his shirt and hook a finger under the neckline. "Forgiven," you tell him.
"Good," Steve says, nudging his nose against yours playfully.
You want to say something else, maybe tease him about his hair or something equally as inconsequential, but he doesn't let you. Instead, he leans down and closes the distance between you with a slow, tentative press of his lips to yours.
Now, Steve's mouth is soft and warm, and he kisses you like he's got all the time in the world. You shiver when he drags his fingers up the back of your neck, tangling them in your hair so that he can pull you closer yet.
You only pull back when the need to breathe becomes too urgent, giggling at the little noise of protest he lets out as you do. But Steve is nothing if not persistent, and he pulls you back in almost immediately, the movement so abrupt that you nearly topple backwards off the stool.
"Steve—I..." you manage to say, between your giggles and the heated press of his lips against yours. "I still...need to breathe, mister."
He huffs out a little laugh against the side of your neck, nips at the sensitive skin in retaliation. You squeal in delight and jab him playfully in the stomach, laughing as he recoils in mock agony.
"Stop laughing," Steve complains, the warmth of his own laughter tickling the underside of your chin when he nuzzles his nose into your neck once more, "come on, you're ruining the moment."
"Wait," you breathe, right before his lips meet yours again, "so...no pancakes, then?"
He drops his forehead against your shoulder and shakes with quiet laughter."You," Steve mumbles into the side of your neck, "are something else, you know that?"
You grin. "Apparently, you like that. Love that...no?"
You can feel him smile, the stretch of his lips curving against the skin of your shoulder.
"Apparently...yeah, I do. I do."
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personasintro · 1 year ago
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Mutual Help | #01
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↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.4k+
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𝐚/𝐧: this bombass comeback wouldn't be as amazing and special if it weren't for @kithtaehyung who made the best new mh banner anyone could ever make!!! ryen, thank you bub so much for putting up with my indecisive ass and taking the time to make not only this banner but different versions before that! I truly appreciate it and I'm thankful you're a part of this!!
ogs know this one is reposted but I hope everyone will enjoy it whether they're rereading it or reading for the first time! lastly, thank you for the endless love and support, i love y'all ♡
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𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 
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The hallway looks exactly the same, which there isn't any reason why it should look different all of a sudden, but considering you haven't been in this building for the past few weeks just makes you want to notice the slightest change. But there is none. It still smells sterile with a little bit of sweetness which reminds you of cinnamon. You're not sure why, nor do you really dwell on it too much.
You could imagine your Thursday evening differently, which means laying down as soon as you come home and turn on Netflix, trying to spend at least twenty minutes finding a good show. That's been your routine for weeks now, but you're not complaining. It feels that void of loneliness in your smart one bedroom apartment.
Although, you can't help but feel nervous when you picture the message you got from Jimin.
'come to Jungkook's, he needs us' 
He never explained anything further, nor replied to the tons of your messages or missed calls. You wouldn't be on the edge, if you've seen or heard from Jungkook. Apart from some occasional messages like 'what's up' or 'what were you doing today?', your communication went downhill. But you don't blame him or yourself for it. You were both busy and probably still are, to even hangout like you always used to.
It bothered you for some time, not hanging out with your best friend like you used to. But you've grown used to that small but painful fact that you don't have to see each other every day. Plus, after some time you've realized, you can still be best friends with someone without having to chat with them 24/7. Gratefulness is how you'd describe your feelings. Grateful that your friendship works, even though you don't get to spend your time with each other that often.
Your knuckles meet the wood of Jungkook's front door in a gentle manner, which is a complete opposite of your inside feelings as you've this weird feeling inside of you. The message Jimin sent you was weird and you haven't heard from anyone since then.
And when the door finally opens, you're glad you're met with Jimin himself as he stares at you with hopeful eyes and a breath of relief that escapes his plush lips. You rush inside, already taking off your shoes and jacket while you confusingly stare at your friend that looks more than relieved to see you.
"What the hell happened? You never texted me back." you tell him, or more like scold him rather than properly greet him.
"Ah, sorry," he cringes, pulling out his phone before he notices the bunch of messages and missed calls from you. "It's just—"
"This is bullshit."
The grumpy and raspy voice unintentionally cuts him off, booming inside of the apartment causing your ears to naturally perk up. Is it just you or his voice got deeper? You look at Jimin with a questioning gaze, who sees the confusion on your features as you hear Jungkook's grumpy and annoyed voice. Rather than explaining something to you, he sighs and with a quick cock of his head towards the living room, you both walk inside.
You're surprised when you see Taehyung there as well, opening a beer can before he pushes it into Jungkook's hands. Surprisingly, the mentioned guy is slouched on his beige couch, wearing one of his baggy shirts and loose sweatpants with his hair looking like he hasn't brushed them for days.
Taehyung's eyes meet yours as soon as you step in, noticing the mess around including two pizza boxes thrown on the floor and empty cans of coke and beer on the coffee table. "Oh, thank god!" Taehyung breathes out the same sigh of relief, causing you to greet him with a confused 'hello'.
Although, you don't wait for any reaction because your best friend finally acknowledges your presence in his home, head lazily turning in your direction as you walk up to him.
"Great," he mutters, almost rolling eyes at the sight of you. "Who called her?" he eyes the two of his best friends, scoffing before he takes a gulp of the beer that Taehyung handed him.
"What kind of reaction is that, asshole?" you react right away, frowning at your best friend that hasn't seen you for weeks and this is his first reaction.
"Don't mind him, please. He's just a little bit drunk right now." Jimin quickly jumps into an action, noticing your fireback and unappreciative tone that's aimed at none other than Jungkook himself.
He rolls his eyes at Jimin words, but doesn't say anything else before Taehyung watches you with cautious doe eyes. He sits in a chair, arm leaned against his knee as he anxiously bites his nails even though he tries to act casual. You don't buy it.
"What the fuck is going on?" you ask them, pointing towards Jungkook that looks like a truck just hit him.
Jimin opens his mouth, but Jungkook glares at him which ends up with him shutting it right away and when you look at Taehyung, he doesn't even spare you a glance.
"Which one of you called her?" Jungkook speaks up, eyeing the two of his friends as they point to each other causing you to snort. Cowards. "I'm fine. I don't see a reason why you make such a big deal out of this. I'm fine."
The fact that he had to repeat the same sentence twice, just proves that no — he's not fine. And before the wheels in your head start to work and roll, Jimin's voice speaks up in a clear, yet quick tempo.
"Kiko broke up with Jungkook."
The room goes silent, faint sounds coming out of the television are filling out the thick silence in the room as Jungkook freezes, not even glaring at his friend that apologetically shrugs at him.
One of the reasons why you haven't got to see your best friend that often is, that he simply found a girlfriend. Trying to combine his work, personal love life and you was already hard. But you get it. You're not mad or annoyed at him, because the two of you still kept in touch. It was just a matter of time until some of you found someone and naturally, there wouldn't be that much time to spend your days together. It was bound to happen and you knew Jungkook would be the first one to find someone.
He's your best friend, but you're not blind. He's one of the most handsome guys you've ever met, not just that but his personality is something that most girls would fall for. His attitude is pissy right now and now, you know the true reason behind it. But the Jungkook you know, is one of the most caring people you know. And not only that, but he's funny, intelligent and perfect at almost everything. He's the whole package and any girl would be lucky to snatch him.
And that girl, or perhaps you should say a woman, happened to be Kiko. A Japanese beauty that their mutual friend introduced them to one another. It clicked off immediately. Even you've noticed it when Jungkook Rain checked almost every plan you had together. He started to stare into his phone with all those puppy heart eyes whenever she texted him. At first, you found it annoying because it was just plain rude, watching him text her every five seconds instead of trying to hang out with you. But then, you just stopped caring and whenever you went silent, he'd just pushed his phone away and tried to gain your attention.
It was stupid, because you knew if you gave him attitude or silent treatment, he would just feel bad and tried to focus on you. Until the both of you stopped hanging out with each other that much.
"She did?" you mutter, staring at Jungkook who stares in front of him with a wiped out gaze. You've never seen him in this kind of state. "I'm sorry, Kook."
"Yeah, well, shit happens." he grumbles, clenching his jaw as he takes another gulp of beer that's securely clenched in his hand.
You've seen Jungkook having a couple of girlfriends, but you know that his relationship with Kiko was different. He wasn't just any girlfriend that he tried to get to know, she was someone that he completely fell for and couldn't stop talking about. He's in love. And even though he's being an ass to his friends right now, it's just his coping mechanism and you know that whatever Jimin and Taehyung has been doing, hasn't helped much. He plays tough right now, hiding his true feelings under this cold and uninterested facade but you know him better.
And when he keeps glancing at you before he quickly looks away, it's almost as if he can hear your exact thoughts.
"Well," you hastily speak, clapping your hands together as you lightly smile at everyone in the room. "You don't wanna date anyone whose name is Kiko." you try to joke, a laugh and snort erupting from Jimin and Taehyung who has obviously found your little joke funny.
Jungkook on the other hand, looks even more pissed off because he never looked at you with so much anger and annoyance as he's looking right now, causing you to squirm in your spot. "Real class, Y/N." he barks at you, causing you to slump in defeat before Jimin squeezes your shoulders in comfort.
"I brought you banana milk. I didn't know what happened, so I thought this would be a nice and quick save." you lightly tell him, sitting at the end of the couch, next to his sprawled legs but he doesn't move them away.
"Jeez, I'm not some fucking kid. Banana milk won't fix my broken heart." he scoffs, shaking his head while the three of you are even surprised that he just admitted that he has a broken heart. Well, clearly but since he's been putting up this tough act, it still comes as a shock. Judging by the look of Jimin's and Taehyung's face, they seem to think the same thing.
"I know that, Kook," you quietly tell him, hastily grabbing one of his ankles as you squeeze it in a manner to comfort him. He doesn't budge, that means something. "Is there anything we can do for you?" you ask him, not really sure if he's even going to answer that.
His brows furrow while he fumbles with his fingers, the slightest pout adoring his small lips as he thinks your question through. The three of you watch him with curious eyes, wondering what the hell is this guy thinking of. He looks at you, then at Jimin and Taehyung before he softly sighs.
"I mean... there's nothing you guys can do." he says softly, taking another gulp of beer that tastes like piss. Korean beer is just not good, and you're surprised that Jungkook even drinks it. But he never had any problem with any alcohol, that man can drink and eat anything.
There's nothing you can think of that could possibly help him out of his heartbreak. The only thing for you to do, is to be there for him. And if drinking a beer that tastes like piss is some kind of twisted way of helping him, you're in. So, you reach out and grab one of the unopened cans before you open it with a loud 'click', taking a gulp of it.
"What are you doing?" Jungkook sits up, staring at your scrunched nose and distaste written all over your face.
"Drinking with you." you shrug, taking another huge gulp of it. The more you drink it, the less it tastes awful.
"But you hate this beer." he reminds you, scowling at you and your nonstop gulping, hand twitching to get it away from you.
"I know," you shrug, grinning at him. "It doesn't taste that bad. Now come on," you nudge him with your leg, raising your can to him. "Cheers." you call out to him, ignoring his big doe eyes that stare at you with a slight confusion before he sighs.
"Cheers." he mutters, clicking his can against yours before the both of you take another gulp.
The two of you are completely unaware of your friends' faces that are washed with relief and knowing eyes as they stare at you and Jungkook. All it took was just to call you to save the day. Jungkook might not be in his greatest mood or show his appreciation for you to be there for him, but drinking without constant complaining and cursing is still a better result that Jimin and Taehyung managed to get.
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"I've never thought I'd ever drink this much of this piss beer." you croak out, putting another empty can onto Jungkook's messy coffee table. You sit back, head falling onto his shoulder as you silently inhale his scent. It always reminded you of his fabric softener that smells like a baby, mixed with his cologne that is very faint on his clothes.
"How do you know what piss tastes like?" Jungkook asks, raising his brow at you while the corner of his lips twitches in amusement. "Do you wanna tell me about your weird kinks?" he cocks his head at you, causing you to groan as you hit his shoulder but it does nothing to him, he doesn't even budge.
A chuckle roars in the back of his throat, a first sound that can be considered as a positive emotion.
"It's not like that." you mutter, growing embarrassed at the thought of Jungkook thinking about your kinks. Not that you know about them that much. You might think there are some things you might like, but you never had anyone to try it with. How possibly could you know? But the idea of you having a piss kink, or whatever that's called, makes you want to gag. Maybe it's the beer or just a single thought of it, who knows.
Jimin and Taehyung already left, once they saw Jungkook loosening up, they took that chance to go home and leave the two of you alone. Not even once he talked about his heartbreak, you silently watched a TV show that Jungkook turned on whilst drinking a beer and munching on some crackers that Taehyung handed you before they left.
Glancing at Jungkook, his face is illuminated from the screen whilst he's watching a TV show with slightly furrowed brows. And when it finally stops, he sighs and grabs the remote to browse through some other movies and TV shows. He keeps browsing through them for a couple of minutes, muttering a pair of curses when he can't find anything he likes. You turn on the lamp in the very corner of his living room, causing him to frown even more from the sudden light.
You sit next to him, staring at him as he sighs and looks back at you. "What?" he asks unbothered, the remote still clutched in his hand.
"I'm sorry, Kook," you tell him silently, reaching for his shoulder which you squeeze in comfort, like you previously did with his ankle. "I know that you loved her."
And you see his facade crack, when he sucks his bottom lip as he quickly looks away from you to blink away the tears that are threatening to fall. You've never seen him this vulnerable.
"Love," he mutters, causing you to let out a confused 'huh?' in response. "Not loved her, but love. I still love her." he corrects you.
"Why did she break up with you? You don't have to tell me if you don't feel comfortable enough, but you guys seemed so close together."
It doesn't make any sense. Jungkook kept talking about her even through your messages, and you could practically feel the happiness radiating from his single messages. His whole Instagram is filled with their pictures, or just single shots of Kiko that Jungkook has taken and captioned with a single heart emoji. You've never seen him being so in love before. That's when you've realized that Kiko is different from any other women that Jungkook was seeing.
You don't push him into answering, the last thing you want for him is to get upset with you. But you can't keep walking around eggshells for this whole night.
"Apparently, she just wants some time for herself. She wants to explore other things, whatever the fuck that means." he bitterly chuckles, eyes filled with anger but you know it's just hidden hurt.
"Maybe you'll find someone else, Kook. You're still young."
Scoffing, he shakes his head. "She's the love of my life. I really doubt there's someone else for me. I was about to ask her to move in with me."
Shit, he's really serious about her.
"You did?"
He nods, biting onto his lower lip before he lets it go, fumbling his eyes before he sighs in defeat. "I love her." he whispers, his voice sounding so vulnerable that it makes your heart clench.
You go straight into hugging him, enveloping his huge body to yours as he starts to cry into your chest. For the first time, he finally breaks in front of someone else rather than himself. He clutches to your body, tears wetting your shirt but you don't mind it, grabbing him even tighter. He cries, something he doesn't usually do in front of everyone. You realize how he kept holding himself in front of Taehyung and Jimin when all he wanted was to cry it out.
"It's okay, you're going to be okay." you tell him, cheeks pressed against his hair that got super long since you've last seen him.
He sniffles, wiping his eyes before he slightly pulls away. "It happened two weeks ago and I'm still such a fucking mess." he scoffs at himself.
"Two weeks ago?" you exclaim, surprised by the new information. "It happened two weeks ago and I know just... now?"
He glares at you and you quickly shut your mouth. "Not everything is about you, Y/N." he reminds you.
Rolling your eyes, you're about to curse at him for being so rude but then you remember his state. He's just hurt and in a way, he's right. "No, that's not what I meant. I just... I'm surprised that you didn't tell me sooner. If it weren't for Jimin, I don't think I'd be here right now." you explain, thinking about all possibilities that could happen.
"I was going to," he mutters, reaching for a bottle of water instead as he takes a few gulps. "But I needed some time to myself. I didn't want anyone to see me like this." he points out towards his slightly puffed eyes.
You just wished he'd tell you sooner. But you don't tell him that. It's not selfish to think that, because you just wanted to be there for him sooner. Nobody should go through such a heartbreak alone. Not when he has you and other two friends willing to be there for him.
"You know that you can tell me anything, right? I'm always here for you." you remind him, flushed cheeks when you see his eyes already set on you.
The friendship between you and Jungkook is mostly surrounded with you teasing each other and in a way, he's like an older brother to you. You don't get all sentimental with each other, even though you're always there for one another. It's an unspoken rule and natural feeling that your friendship has.
"I know," he says softly, giving you the best little smile he can muster. "And I'm so grateful for that. I know I was acting like an asshole and I'm sorry, I just... I'm really happy that you're here."
You don't get to hear such words often, especially coming out of Jungkook's mouth, but that's why you're even more pleased to hear them.
You smile back at him, silently thanking him and also saying that it's okay and you get it. It's quiet for a moment. Jungkook fumbles with his fingers as you silently watch him, noticing a few new tattoos that decorate his honey skin.
"Y/N?" he asks suddenly, causing you to hum in return. " You know when you asked me, if there's something you could do for me?"
"Oh, boy. What is it this time?" you joke, causing him to silently chuckle under his breath.
What could he possibly want to know? The last time he wanted something from you, was to clean his whole apartment because he twisted his ankle. But whatever that comes out of his mouth next, never occurred to you before.
"Can you pretend to be my girlfriend?"
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© 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨 (𝐧𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝) | don't forget to reblog ♡
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unclewaynemunson · 1 year ago
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I definitely think it takes Eddie a while to accept that Steve changed. He remembers what he was like in high school.
When Steve asks him out, for whatever reason, Eddie says yes. But he’s determined not to fall in love, because deep down Harrington’s still a dick. But he’s cute, and Eddie can smile and play pretend.
But then! Steve goes full happy relationship mode, he tells Robin (obv), introduces Eddie to the other adults as his bf, and is just generally being sweet.
MY SWEET ANON I HOPE YOU'LL STILL SEE THIS!!!
I'm so sorry it took me ages to answer this one! But I really loved the idea of this (the good ol' steddie + misunderstanding about what they mean to each other with a dash of terrible communication skills my beloved) so i wanted to give it my proper attention, which i didn't have enough time for over the past few months. Buuut the words have finally found their way to my keyboard so here is the first part of what probably will turn into a 3-part ficlet, I hope it's something like what you had in mind when you sent this ask to me <3
---
Eddie has been acting weird all day. Maybe Steve is too much of a romantic, but he can't help it: he wanted to celebrate this day. Exactly a month ago, he asked Eddie out. And it's been good. They've spent a lot of time together. They've been on lots of dates, spent plenty of nights together... But today, things are different, somehow. Eddie is different. He turned Steve down for a dinner date, he didn't stop by Family Video during lunchtime, and when Steve shows up at the trailer to surprise him with flowers, he merely frowns and pulls back from their kiss before it can even properly get started.
'Everything alright?' Steve asks, trying to catch his boyfriend's gaze – which isn't exactly easy with how Eddie is turning away from him to not-so-gently put the flowers down in a corner of the trailer's living room.
'Yeah, sure,' Eddie mumbles, not really looking at him. 'It's just – I didn't really expect to see you today. We didn't have plans.'
Steve chuckles, trying to get the tension out of his chest. 'Didn't know I was expected to schedule an appointment before coming here.' He tries to play it off as a joke, but the tone of his voice doesn't really want to cooperate.
Eddie finally turns back towards him and Steve catches the end of an eye-roll.
'I'm just not feeling too great today, alright?' It sounds a bit stiff and Steve pauses. He wonders if he did something wrong, if he somehow invaded Eddie's space – even though he has showed up at the trailer on countless evenings in the past month.
'What's wrong?'
'Nothing,' Eddie answers, a little bit too fast. 'I told you, I'm not feeling so well.'
And now that he can see his face properly, Steve notices that Eddie is indeed looking paler than usual.
'Hey, don't worry about it,' he says. 'I can stay to take care of you, if you want to. We don't have to do anything. You can go to bed early and I'll keep you company. I can make you some soup, read to you... You could've just told me you're not feeling good, you know. I would've picked up some fruit on my way over here and stopped by the library for you.'
'You don't have to do any of that, Steve.'
Steve tries to ignore the fact that it's been ages since Eddie has last called him by his official first name. He doesn't like the sound of it.
'But I want to,' he says instead. He takes a step towards Eddie, lifts his arms to wrap them around him – but Eddie swats his arms away before he can properly embrace him.
'Don't.' He sounds cold and detached, so different from how he usually sounds. 'Don't act like this is something it isn't.'
'Like this is something –' Steve echoes, completely caught off-guard by this turn of events. 'Like what?'
'Jesus Christ, you really don't know when to stop, do you?'
'What?' He takes a stumbling step backwards, driven away by the force in Eddie's words.
'We're not – like that,' Eddie stutters out. 'We're just fucking around, aren't we? So you don't need to pretend. You don't need to bring me flowers. You don't need to take care of me when I'm sick. You don't owe me anything, alright? You can go home.'
Steve takes another step backwards, until his back collides with the door of the trailer. He blindly grabs the door handle behind him.
'Alright,' he says, trying desperately not to let his voice tremble audibly. 'I hear you, loud and clear. I'll – I'll leave you alone, then.'
Read pt2 here (Edit: it's actually 5 parts now. You can read the whole thing on ao3 here)
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