#i read so freaking much fantasy this year

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

...ready for it? - j.l. howlett

a/n: hi! here's a full version of a blurb i wrote a few days ago that got so much love so quick that i wanted to give yall a full version! the beginning is literally just the blurb but after that it's all new! like many of you wolverine brainrot has hit me hard, so here's graphic smut about him. leave a comment or a reblog if you enjoyed :) warnings: SMUT!!!!! some dumbification, use of pet names, reader is fem, reader is a mutant and able to control plants, lots of cursing, lots of grotesque fliritng/fantasies, some soft moments, some sort of primal sex, oral (fem receiving), some of the setting is probs inaccurate but whatever. let me know if i missed any big ones!! word count: 4.9 k summary: well, you had to find some way of entertaining yourself at charles xavier's school for gifted youngsters. and you have always liked an emotionally unavailable, absolutely hung, challenge. pairing: logan howlett x mutant!reader now playing: ...ready for it? - taylor swift "in the middle of the night, in my dreams/you should see the things we do, baby/in the middle of the night in my dreams/i know i'm gonna be with you, so i take my time"

You are absolutely enthralled with him. It’s actually sort of pathetic how your fingers twitch at the sight of him, at how the mention of his name or god forbid the sound of his voice makes your head snap up, attention deficit disorders be damned!

Funnily enough, you had no damn interest in Xavier’s stupid mutant school, because to you, you’re not an outsider because of your mutant abilities (that don’t have much of a physical apparition, at least one that you can’t hide) but because there’s never been much of a place for you to fit in.

But, you were behind on rent and of course, you fucking hate your job, so why not? You’d be able to be slightly less of a freak, and you’d get free room and board in the process! (Where Charles gets all of his money, you do not know.)

And because you’re a little older, Charles doesn’t force you to sit in a class room to learn about basic arithmetic and grammar lessons, so you really only do some training around three times a day, you have your own room (with a dusty box under the other bed, you also suspect your room used to be the ‘sex’ room) and you have the weekends off.

So for a twenty something year old with few ambitions, the social skills of a Martian with autism, and a huge crush on every older emotionally unavailable man you meet, it’s a pretty good set-up.

You’re waiting for time to pass in the garden, just reading a rather interesting book that Charles had recommended after he noticed you needed something to pass time before you started making bad decisions.

You hear his heavy footsteps on the gravel before you see him. Your heart beats faster, but you will yourself, do everything in your power not to glance up at him. And you let out a breath as you succeed, keeping your head down.

“In your natural habitat, are you, spitfire?” Your head darts up to him—There’s no way he isn’t talking to you, you know you’re the only one in this garden. And you can see his lips twitch up and you want to crawl out of your skin!

“My-My natural habitat?” You laugh, closing the book you’re reading because your attention is locked to him now.

“Yeah, seems like it.” He saunters on up to you and sits on the bench next to you.

And let’s make something very clear—

Logan Howlett does not sit.

This man poses, as if there’s always some invisible camera capturing every frame of movement, from the way his legs spread out, to the way his chest lifts when he inhales.

Fuck, you think you might die if you can’t suck him off right now.

“And what exactly is my uh.. habitat?” You question.

He takes out his lighter and a cigar, placing the cigar in his mouth as he gestures to the space around the two of you, lighter in hand.

“A garden.” He says, matter of facility, as his voice is muffled only the slightest bit by the cigar.

And you just sort of look at him before asking,

“Oh, you enjoy being boiled down to your mutations, Claws?” You question, and as he goes to light the cigar, he smirks.

“Alright, you gotta admit though, it is cliché!”

You are absolutely in agreement, there is zero doubt you are as much of a walking, breathing, real life living, stereotype.

“It is not!” And the pair of you give each other this look, like you’re both shocked at how whiney that statement is!

“Uh-huh, sure, Spitfire.” It sounds almost like he’s purring at you.

When he lights his cigar, he’s sort of eying you for your reaction, whatever you might say.

“You know, smoking is not only bad for you, it’s awful for the environment.”

“You’re probably the most cliché little freak around here.” Which.. honestly..? Shouldn’t possibly turn you on as much as it does.

You just stare at him for a minute, and he smirks.

“Cat got your tongue?’

And maybe it’s stupid and maybe it’s immature but your hand just comes over to fiddle with the pointed part of his hair.

“We’ll you certainly look the part.” He just looks at you, and honestly? The way he’s looking at you, it’s like he’s proud of you for teasing him.

“Aw, there’s my little spitfire,” He teases, just to see how red you get. And red you are— it’s embarrassing. And here’s the kicker—You are young. Exceptionally young, and what’s insane about that? How horny it makes both you and Logan.

The idea of fucking your innocent cunt, tight and all his, drives him genuinely mad. And you are, quite literally, a whore for the idea of riding this older man’s dick. You know he’s big—sometimes you see the outerline of it when he walks away from you all huffy and puffy.

“You’re a tease, Claws.” You respond, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Says you,” he raises and eyebrow, leaning closer to you now, “You’re the one laying around in the sun, looking like that.”

“Looking like this?” You scoff. You’re wearing a muscle tee and a pair of ripped jeans, but the gaps are huge and he can see your thighs. He wants to devour you, and you would let him if he only asked.

And let’s be clear—he is fucking you with his eyes. There’s no way to go around it.

“I think you’re just.. horny.” You tease, and he just growls. Seriously, this man who is undressing you with his eyes, growls, because he does want you and he is horny!

“I think you’re onto something.” He purrs, and you want to just.. god. You don’t know how to express the pit of desire that grows in you. “I would fuck you until you couldn’t think, right here among your pretty flowers. Would you like that, baby?” he asks, his hand finding your thigh.

But you just cough on the smoke from his cigar, before frowning.

“You really shouldn’t smoke.”

“Aw, I’ll make it up to you.” He smirked. “Promise, spitfire.”

He’s very close to you now, so you take a second to just breath and you know that he knows that he’s got you—hook, line, and sweet, sweet sinker.

And then you realize what exactly it is that you’ve gotten yourself into. And what a nightmare it is—Or maybe a dream if you listen to the pathetic part of your brain, but you are into this an in a way that is concerning for your own mental wellbeing and desperately want to avoid him having all the power in this situation.

“Oh, I am sure you will.” You assure. You lean forward, plucking the cigar from his lips, and placing it on the ground, squashing it beneath your heel. With a flick of your wrist, vines and grass grow over the cigar, composting it. And from the vines, grows a small little buttercup flower.

You lean down and pluck the flower from the grass, before tucking it behind Logan’s ear.

“You should take care of that hard-on you have, Claws.” You hum, before standing up, and walking away. And for a minute, he just watches you go—partly to because you have an amazing ass, but partly because you have absolutely flabbergasted him.

And have made him want you even more.

• • •

The next time you see him is the next night, in the woods near the mansion. Because the literal sixteen year olds you go to ‘school’ with do not know how to do anything on the weekend except drink, fuck, and smoke.

Honestly, you kind of fit in great.

So here you are, nursing a mason jar of.. some fucked up concoction, and you’re not too sure what’s in it, but you have drunk two of them and are on your third. You think you might live forever, until you glance up and see Logan, in these fuck me jeans and this burnt orange flannel and a wife beater.

Instantly, you know that you’ll die tonight if you don’t have him.

He approaches you with this cocky smirk as if he hasn’t realized your intoxicated state yet.

“Now what’s a little spitfire like you doing all alone on a Friday night?” he questions, tilting his head. His smirk is deadly. And you roll your eyes.

“Here comes the big bad Wolverine, all bark and no bite.” You scoff, and his eyes flash with surprise. Only for a second, but even drunk, you notice the way his eyes shoot up in surprise.

“All bark and no bite? That’s quite the accusation.” He hums.

“Well, we’ve been.. eye fucking each other for a few weeks now, and you haven’t even kissed me yet. I get being into foreplay and edging, but holy shit, Claws, throw a girl a bone once in a while.” You scoff, and for a moment, he just looks at you.

“Are you.. drunk?”

“Do you think I’m drunk?”

“Yeah, you’re drunk.” He sighs. You respond by taking another sip of your drink, but before the bitter liquor hits your tongue, he snatches the bottle from you.

“Let me take you home.” You’re sure your eyes look like hearts, so, dreamily and a little love struck, you respond,

“’Kay.”

And he chuckles a little bit at that.

“We’re not gonna do anything, I’m just gonna walk you home, spitfire.” He starts, and your face falls a little bit, but in an effort to hide it, you respond,

“..’kay.” And he sees right through you. You’re pretty much an open book. And the alcohol doesn’t help. His pointer finger and thumb comes to your chin, and he gently rubs his thumb against your lip.

“Don’t be like that, pup. It’ll happen soon. Just not tonight, okay?” He assures.

“’Kay.” You answer softly, and you think he smiles at you but your vision is sort of blurry. Then, you blink, as a gust of wind moves through the trees, sending a shiver down your spine. He sighs, and wordlessly takes off his flannel, before wrapping it around you. Your arms slip into the sleeves, and you almost cry because it’s like, the best hug in the entire world. “Won’t.. you be cold, then?” you question, and he just shakes his head.

“Let’s get you home, spitfire.” He holds a handout to you, and without a second thought, you take his hand. He wraps his arm around you, and you lean against him like it’s something the two of you do often. If you were sober, you might short circuit. But, you’re not, so it feels right.

The walk home is quiet, but Logan’s thumb gently rubs against your shoulder. He wants to do more, but he knows he shouldn’t, since you are in fact plastered.

You ignore the giggles and whispers from teenagers making their way past you to the party or to their rooms, and you even ignore the way their giggles stop when they meet Logan’s gaze.

When you get back to your room, you take a second to lean against the door, and he takes a second to admire the way you look in his clothes.

“Ready for bed?” he asks gently, and you just smile at him.

“You’re really pretty.” He just does the half scoff-half chuckle that you’re obsessed with. Then, he wraps his arm around you again, opening the door to your room, and guiding you inside. He gets you to your bed and sits you down, before kneeling in front of you to untie your boots. “Has anyone ever told you how good you look on your knees?” you ask.

He just gives you this smirk.

“One or two pretty girls back in the day.” He says, “None as pretty as you though, spitfire.” He says, and you groan, leaning back and laying on the bed, as he pulls off your boots.

“You’re awful.” And you need him.

“Yes, I know, baby.” His voice is almost condescending, and it turns you on. But then he stands up, grabbing the folded blanket from the edge of your bed, and laying it over you. He finds his place kneeling next to you again as you stare at him, cozy in bed. His hands gently brush hair from your face. “Do you need anything else?”

“You.”

“Soon. But not yet, pup. You’re too drunk.” He says softly.

“Thanks for walking me home, Claws.”

“You’re very welcome, Spitfire.” He purrs, leaning forward and kissing your forehead gently. “I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Logan.” You mumble as you drift off to sleep. He sits there for a few minutes, just looking at you for a long time before he gets up and creeps out of your room.

• • •

The next morning, you sit in the cafeteria, drinking a large coffee, and nursing the worst hangover, possibly of your life. Made even worse by the fractions of memories about what happened last night.

You rub your eyes, flinching when you hear the clatter of a plate on the table, and someone sitting across from you. You peek through the gaps of your fingers to see Logan sitting across from you, a smirk on his face.

He opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it.

“I hate you. Shut up.”

“I didn’t even say anything!” he laughs. But he sees how much pain you’re in, and slides two pieces of sourdough toast to you. “Truce?”

“Truce.” You agree, taking a slice and biting into it. You feel better.

And after a moment of silence, he asks,

“I’m never getting my flannel back, am I?”

Truthfully, the flannel has been folded neatly and tucked into your drawer, for the next time you need some comfort.

You tilt your head, looking right into his eyes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

• • •

Weeks go by like this.

You spend your days either going to class or hanging out—okay, it’s more like flirting with a side of hanging out, with Logan. The pair of you become quite close, and maybe that’s why you haven’t fucked yet.

Oh, the two of you want to, and it’s obvious to everyone (Charles has called you out for being distracted more times than you can count, and you remind him not to probe your mind, and he tells you he does not need his mutant abilities to see that your thoughts linger elsewhere.) but you’re.. afraid, at this point.

Which is odd, because you’re no virgin, you know he wants you, but.. what if everything changes after that? Maybe he’ll start to avoid you. Maybe you’ll start to avoid him. And you’ve really become good friends, and don’t want to lose it.

And then, there’s the fact that half the time, he’s away on dangerous missions, and even if he can regenerate, you worry about him. But he hasn’t been on any lately, so it’s like waiting for the other shoe to drop.

You’re sitting in the garden when it happens.

He finds you, and this time, you do not even try to hide the way your head picks up and gazes at him.

“Hi, Spitfire.” He grins, and you smile a bit at him.

“Claws, what can I do for you?” And he sits next to you, and for some reason, maybe because he doesn’t say anything at first, you know that there is something wrong. And you know what it is.

After a few minutes, you glance to him.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Your voice is quiet, as if you’re scared that if it gets any louder, everything will fall apart.

“Yeah. Charles has me going on another mission.” He doesn’t say it, but you both know this isn’t an involuntary thing.

“Cool.” You cringe at your reaction.

“I guess.” He laughs weakly, as if he knows he’s twisting a knife buried within you.

Silence fills the air. It’s not necessarily uncomfortable, but it isn’t the relaxed silence you’re used to with him. Confessions dance on the tips of your tongues, and you’re so close to saying it, that when you turn to each other suddenly, you just need to look at each other for a second.

“Be safe.” You say quietly. “And hurry back.” You request, and you try not to sound like you’re begging.

“Of course.” He says, like it perplexes him that you even have to request. “I can’t leave you here yearning for me forever, can I?” He teases, and for a moment, you have this flash of an alternate universe where he does die on this mission and you are trapped in this garden forever, waiting for him. Like a lost puppy, or worse, a lost lover. The mere thought of it fucks with your head.

“No. You can’t. I won’t allow it.” You explain, “If anything, I’m the one that should be haunting you.” He just smiles. A real, not at all awkward smile.

“I’m sure you will, spitfire.” He says, and his head comes forward so that his forehead is resting against yours.

“When do you leave?” You ask gently, and he sighs. His breath smells of mint and cigar smoke, maybe even a hint of lemon.

“An hour. I have to pack quick and then debrief.” He answers you.

And just as love struck as you were the night of the party, you answer,

“’Kay.” You smile weakly at him. And he just.. looks at you for a few minutes before sighing again. He pulls away and leans up to kiss your forehead again, before standing up. He turns a few steps away from you just to tease you.

“Don’t miss me too much, okay?” he requests softly. Before you can stop yourself, you stand up, and wrap your arms around him. He only pauses for a half a second before he returns your embrace, and it becomes apparent that you both needed this moment. You stay like this for a few minutes before you pull away.

“Bring me back a souvenir.” You try, a soft smile on your face.

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll bring you something great from the great city of Tulsa, Ohklahoma.” He grins.

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

• • •

For the next week, you feel like this must be what it was like for housewives when their husbands went to war. You knew all too well that that statement was extremely dramatic, but you simply cannot help yourself.

You think you might die by day three.

It’s like you’re going through withdrawals and it’s making you go genuinely insane.

You have worn this man’s flannel for almost the entire week, because at first you’re a little self-conscious of other people noticing your repeating outfits, but only at first. By day four, you have decided you don’t give a single fuck.

Day eight you’re just laying in bed, quietly making a list of all the positions you want him to take you in. It’s a long list. You’re brought back to reality by a knock on your door. You’re about to snap, knowing that you’ll tell whatever child has been sent to bother you to scram, but when you open the door, you grin widely.

Logan stands there, looking tired, but he’s smiling and holding up a shot glass that reads ‘Tusla’, and has skyline on it.

“Didn’t I tell you I’d get you a souvenir?” He asks, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around him, pulling him in. He hugs you back, making sure to squeeze you just a bit—your feet barely come off the ground.

He pulls away, and you grin up to him.

“You came back.” You say it as if you can barely believe it, and just for a moment, he feels an emotion he can’t quite place, but he ignores it.

“Of course I came back, spitfire. All in one piece too, as requested.” He grins, and you’re just.. amazed at the look of him. “What’s that look for?” He asks gently, tilting his head.

“I just..” you start.

And then you break.

You lean up and kiss him gently, those stupidly delicious sideburns making your stomach flip. He doesn’t waste time, kissing you back, his arms around your waist. After a minute, you pull away.

“Sorry. I’m kind of done playing that game of waiting for you to kiss me. I just got the first hit of you I’ve had all week, and I feel fucking amazing.” You confess, and sure, it’s not a big grand love confession with tears and poetry, but your words make him kiss you so intensely that you start backing into your room, his hands exploring your body as you tug off his leather jacket, a new flannel for you to steal coming off soon after.

He keeps kissing you as his hands come down to your jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them, before gently pushing you to sit on the bed. He kneels in front of you, and begins to tug off your boots again, then, on your jeans.

You grin.

“You know, I’m getting the oddest sense of déjà vu. Something about you looking great on your knees.” You tease, and he just tugs off your jeans in one strong swoop, before leaning in to bite your thigh. You gasp, your hands coming up to tug his hair.

Then, he begins to tug at your panties, and you tilt his head up, glancing at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Well, before I was interrupted, I was about to eat you out.”

“Wait, really?”

He blinks, confused.

“Yeah. Is that a, uh.. problem..?” He hasn’t gotten any complaints yet.

“I just.. I didn’t think guys actually did that, I thought it was just.. a porno thing.” And at this, the man who is about to burry his face between your thighs, laughs. And not just a chuckle, this man hollars. “What’s so funny, claws?” You ask, a little suspicious.

“Nothing,” he promises, “I am just going to take such good care of you, pup.”

“I’m holding you to that, claws.” And then, he leans in and begins to kiss your thighs, gently biting down here and there. Then, he licks a stripe along your cunt, and you let out this loud moan, and your hand comes up to clamp over your mouth, but he reaches up to grab your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.

He pulls away to lecture you. Lecture you. On his knees. Head between your thighs.

“Nuh-uh, I wanna hear all the pretty noises you can make for me.” Then, softer, he adds, “Never been eaten out before, fuckin’ travesty.” He mumbles, before leaning in to lick your cunt again, beginning to lap his tongue over your throbbing heat.

His nose rubs against your clit, and it’s enough to drive you genuinely crazy. You’re unsure how you’ve gotten to this point in your life without having your pussy worshipped like this, but with him around, you’re pretty sure you’ll never go another day without it.

His tongue continues to work magic on your cunt, as his nose presses against your clit, stimulating you to the point of making you see stars.

Your hands tug at his hair, and the moan that it elicits from him is enough to send vibrations through your cunt through your stomach. Your head leans back as you moan, and for a moment, you hope there is no mutant in this mansion with super hearing.

His free hand grips your thigh as he bends your leg back to get better access, as he continues to eat you out. The mere taste of you is enough to drive him crazy—He almost wants to start thrusting into the side of your bed, he’s so hard, but he ignores that urge to continue to eat you out.

“Mm—Lo, I—I’m gonna—”

He just hums into your cunt, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze of approval, before his tongue moves even faster (if that’s even possible, though, he is an amazingly surprising man), and suddenly—

You feel a release you have been waiting for weeks, and it is fucking phenomenal. And the Wolverine just licks up all your cum, even if it makes your thighs shake, but honestly, he doesn’t care and neither do you. For a moment, you just listen to the sound of your own pants.

After a minute, you are able to look at him, and he just looks up to you with the same smirk that has been torturing you for all of those weeks. And you just have to pull him up to kiss you, like it’s the only way you’ll be able to live.

As you kiss him, you pull off his wifebeater and then your hands rest on the sides of his face as he pulls off your shirt as well, before his hands begin to make quick work of his belt, wanting to skip all of the pleasantries and just fuck you.

But when he finally gets his jeans off, you pull away, and he stares at you like you’re crazy.

“What the fuck could possibly be more important than me fucking you stupid?”

“Will you just.. let me look at you?” You scoff, your eyes flickering over him to just memorize every square inch of his body. He humors you for a few minutes, standing there with his hands on hips before he leans in and cages you in with his arms.

“Show’s over, spitfire.” He purrs, leaning in to kiss you, slowly making his way closer to you so that you’re laying back on your bed. At some point during the kiss, his boxers come off, and when you feel his cock against your cunt, you moan into the kiss, and you can feel his smirk against your lips.

Oh, you could kill him. But, you suspect maybe he’ll get to you first.

After he kisses you for a few minutes, he pulls away to tell—not ask, tell you, “I’m going to fuck you now.” And you know your line.

“’Kay.” He grins at this and kisses you again, before lining himself up and starting slowly. He just has the tip inside of you, and you begin to moan, your grip on his shoulders tightening. You already feel entirely too full, and he slowly agonizingly slowly pushes into you, and he sees how his size makes your face twitch,

“Shh, shh, I know, pup. Deep breathes for me, bub,” he says softly, such a stark contract to his rough movements, as he bottoms out and has his entire cock inside of you. And he gives you a second, watching as your face relaces, adjusting to the size of him. “Okay?” He asks, and you nod.

“’Kay,” You assure, and he kisses your forehead.

“’Kay.” He responds, and before you can tease him for it, he begins to thrust into you, slowly as first, but he continues to quicken his pace. Your nails begin to scratch on his back, and he lets out this angelic moan—You must’ve died and went to heaven.

As his thrusts quicken, the lines quickly blur between quick ruts and an animalistic need, manifesting itself in the way he fucks you. You know you won’t last long, especially when his fingers find your clit and begin to rub it again.

“Fuck! Oh my god—”

“I know, baby, I know,” he coos, his free hand coming to your thigh to lift your leg up, only for better access to your throbbing cunt, “God, I love the feeling of you around me.. Worth the wait, I promise.” He grumbles, as he thrusts into you, his only goal to make you cum.

You want to respond to that—To tease him, to make him feel as shy as you do, but he has completed his goal of fucking you stupid.

All you can do is respond, “Fuck—I’m gonna—”

“I know, baby, go ahead, cum for me,” he requests softly, leaning in to press a rather jarringly sweet kiss to your lips.

As you cum around his cock, he shudders, the look of you, laying there fucked dumb, is almost too much for him to bear.

“I’m gonna fill you up, pup,” he tells you, and all you can do is moan in response, which makes him come that much closer to the edge. After a few more thrusts, with a euphoric moan that will haunt you forever, his hot cum fills you up, leaving the pair of you clawing at each other, wanting more.

When you’re both finally finished riding out your high, Logan lays next to you, keeping you close. His grip on you is tight—possessive. When you finally find your voice, you ask,

“You’re not gonna turn me into a booty call, are you, claws?”

And he laughs.

“No,” he says, pressing a kiss to your head. “You’re gonna be my best girl, Spitfire.”

“Does this mean I get to steal another of your flannels?”

“I’ll give you my whole fucking wardrobe to see how many times I can make you cum.”

[chilumi-shipper]

A prompt came into mind.. up to you if you're interested.

So, character and reader got married but character cheated because he said he doesn't love the reader anymore. They're technically done, but haven't finished doing the divorce files (because it's expensive and takes a long long time). But.. character got into an accident.. which made him forget everything that happened recently, and only remember the days he loved the reader. Reader's conflicted, the mistress that character has doesn't know what to do either. Character was confused on why he would marry anyone else when he has the reader fo begin with.

I think this fits your styles.

Btw, I LOVE ALL YOUR STORIES! I RE-READ THEM EVERYDAY-

Someone Better

Childe x Fem!Reader

Summary: Childe was a wild spirit, so when he got bored of your relationship, he sought the excitement of another woman. You were heartbroken, ultimately asking for a divorce. But just as your connection was almost severed, he got into an accident, losing every memory of his infidelity and returning to the man that made you fall in love him.

Tags: Cheating, Amnesia, Pining, Angst/No Comfort

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

You were staring at the tremendous amount of divorce paperwork sitting on the desk of your hotel room.

It was very complicated, five years of marriage with joined insurance, property, bank accounts, and now you have to meticulously separate all your joined assets, all while constantly on the verge of a breakdown.

Not to mention you had no family to stay with in Snezhnaya. There's absolutely no one you could talk to about everything, you've left your homeland thinking your future in the cold nation with the love of your life would be nothing less that fantasy.

As you rest your head on the desk and closed your eyes tightly to ease the headache, your ears perk up as loud knocks hit your door.

With a groan, you got up and opened it to reveal your two of Childe's older siblings.

"He's looking for you." The older sister said, Alevtina, her seriousness evident, looking at you somewhat panicked.

"I know, big si-" I paused for a moment, closing my eyes and rubbing my temples. "I'm working on the assets, I'll send it as soon as possible."

"No." The chilly tone of the older brother, Alexei, sent shivers down your spine. "You need to come with us."

...

"Big sister Y/N is here?" You hear Teucer's innocent voice as you enter their home. The younger children laid their eyes on you, seemingly eager to come closer, but perhaps they've been told that now would not be the time.

"Honey... Thank you for coming..." Their mother embraced you warmly, still accepting you with motherly affection. "Oh dear, I'm so sorry..."

"Mama, has he calmed down?" Alexei asked from behind you.

Your mother-in-law parts from you slightly, looking at you tenderly. "She will definitely help."

You put your confusion and questions aside, seeing the somewhat tense air within the house.

"Stop staring." You weren't looking at him, but you felt his eyes watching you set down a tray of soup and medicine on his bedside table.

Childe lets out a chuckle. "Sorry, love, I can't help it..." His eyes never faltered, containing a look of admiration that you've been unfamiliar with for so long.

"After the avalanche, I got a pretty bad head injury. When I woke up, you were the first thing on my mind. And when Mama said you weren't here with me, I freaked out."

You sat down on a chair next to his bed, your eyes observing the bandages wrapped around his head. "What did the doctor say about your injury?"

"I'm gonna get some very bad headaches, and I also got a bit of amnesia, I think." Childe looks as if he's in thought. "Do I seem like I forgot something?"

"Maybe some things..."

"But I love you just the same! So I bet what I forgot wasn't even that important!"

...How cruel.

Having to take care of the man that broke you apart, even worse, a version of him that you loved too much to despise.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

It was painful, staying with him.

Childe would keep you close, call you his different pet names, cuddle up to you, all while you were under the pitiful gaze of his family that knew of his infidelity.

On the other hand, he's been feeling the cold responses his advances have been receiving. But to him, he thinks he can solve it by smothering you in more of his love.

He is pretty observant, he's put it two in two together that he may be missing a memory in which he had done something wrong. He just didn't know how much it had hurt.

Though, not only from you, Childe had also felt that his younger siblings seem distant as well, no longer asking him to play snow games outside, or looking up to him as some sort of hero.

One early morning, when he walks up to the kitchen to see you cooking for the whole family, a smile formed on his face.

He steps closer, wrapping his muscular arms around your waist. "Hmmm... Morning, honey..." He basks in the feeling of you.

You remain quiet, letting him do as he pleases. The ginger frowns, however, feeling unsatisfied by your lack of reaction.

"Babyyyy... Loveee meee backkkk..." He whines, nuzzling his face on your neck.

"Ajax, come on..." You stifled a laugh, moving slightly away as his action tickled you. He hears the slight giggle of your words, smiling against your skin.

You compose yourself, pushing him away from you. "Stop." He lets you push him away, and you feel him freeze slightly at the harshness of your tone.

His blue eyes looked at you worried. "...Hey," He starts. "I'm sorry, darling, did you not like that?"

With a sigh, you looked down. "When the others wake up, tell them I already made breakfast. I have somewhere to be."

You walk pass him, but you did not miss the hurt tone of the faint call of your name.

...

You come back to his family's home after doing some more paperwork for the divorce that your husband doesn't even remember, feeling your head pounding as you ready yourself to face him again.

What you don't expect to see this late at night is Childe sitting on the porch with a lantern next to him, his head hung low as if he's thinking deeply.

"Childe?"

He looks up, but he frowns at you. "Ajax, darling..." He reminds you.

Standing up, he pulls you into his warm embrace. "I love you... I missed you..."

His words take you aback, as you reluctantly wrap your arms around him.

"I've been thinking about this morning, about you. You hate me."

"I know I must've done something... you can tell me." He kneels in front of you, staring at your eyes while his sparkle with the light of the lantern. "And even if I don't remember, I'll make it right..."

As you look down at him, you see the fiery passion of love that burned in his eyes as he knelt down to ask you to marry him so long ago.

It scares you...

You might not be able to control yourself...

"It's just hard to take care of you sometimes." You smile ever so slightly, yet his frown only deepens as tears start to escape your eyes.

He stands, his hand finds its way to your cheek. "Love..." His eyes held such conviction that you've not seen for years. "I'm so sorry..."

You close your eyes to hold in the tears, shaking your head and swaying his hand away. "...You're not."

Despite the tears, you tug at his arm. "Come on, let's head inside."

He's filled with questions, but seeing your sad face makes him set all those aside and focus on you for now.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

"Teucer, hey, little man." Childe calls for his little brother.

The little boy looks at him wide eyed. "I don't want to talk to you." He crossed his little arms, turning around to leave with a displeased look.

"What...? Oh come on..." The harbinger pouted, getting down on his little brother's level. "What did I do wrong...? All our siblings are acting so mean to me..." He whined, frowning as he tries to persuade the little ginger.

"But you were also very very mean!" Teucer refused to look at his older brother, the one he used to look up to the most. "We don't like you anymore!"

Childe's playful facade faded as his expression contorted to a confused one. "Hey, what do you mean...?"

"You're so mean to Y/N, you hurt her! She doesn't deserve tha-"

"Teucer!" Just as his brother erupted to a crying mess, screaming at him with all his little heart, their mother walked into the room, grabbing the little boy.

"Don't talk like that to your elders!"

"But it's true, Mama!"

"That doesn't matter, say sorry to-"

"What does he mean, Mama? Why did I do?" Childe looked at his mother expectantly, his voice starting to shake as he saw the fit of rage Teucer had because of him. "W-What did I do to Y/N?"

HIs mother shook her head, trying to ease her expression with a smile. "Nothing..."

"It's not nothing, Mama!" He raises his voice by accident due to his frustration. "I see it, the way she looks at me, it's different. The way you all look at me, like you have a monster inside your house."

Teucer forced his way out of his mother's hold, running to his older siblings room all teary eyed. Childe felt bad, but he desperately needed answers from his mother.

"Mama, please, I need to know why Y/N doesn't... love me anymore..." It hurts him to say, but based on the way you're acting, he could only make the assumption that your feelings have wavered.

"Oh, Ajax... it's not like that..."

The ginger then felt a sharp pain in his head, making him fall down onto the couch. He groaned as he clutched his head.

"Hey... where are you heading off to so late at night?" He hears your soft voice in a static audio playing in his head.

"Out." He then hears himself replying coldly.

"Ohh, when will you-"

He's out the door before you could even finish your question.

"Ajax, honey!' His mother's voice was a hazy blur as he keeps his eyes closed to envision what he's hearing in his head.

He tries to shake the feeling away, but his mind is flooded by fragmented memories.

"You've been going out a lot more recently." Your concerned voice entered his ears.

"I've been busy."

"Busy where?"

He then hears shatters of glass and yells as you sob while trying to talk to him.

He pictures your face, your crying, begging face, asking for some sort of salvation from his cold and merciless actions.

"T-There's someone else?"

"Someone better."

"H-How could y-you do this?"

"When I look at you now... I feel... nothing."

Childe opened his eyes, not realizing that tears had started to flow to his cheeks. "Mama..."

"Y-Yes, dear?"

"I hurt her..." He was in a state of disbelief. "I-I... Why...?"

His tears fell faster, looking at his mother for answers. "W-Why, Mama? Why was I so stupid? Why did I choose to lose her?"

"I don't know, dear, but that's simply what happened, and you could never make her forget that, even if you forgot."

His breathing started to accelerate, feeling like he wanted to punch himself. As his head started spinning, his vision turns black.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

You took a deep breath as you walked into the house, feeling everyone's eyes on you as you entered.

"Honey..." Your ex mother-in-law embraces you once again, holding you tight. "I'm so sorry... I didn't want to make it difficult for you..."

"N-No, no..." You returned her hug, sniffling as you start to tear up. "I readied myself for this, I'm just here to drop off the final papers..."

"Could you talk to him?" Alevtina suddenly asked, looking at you hesitantly. "I know he's been a jerk... but he won't eat unless he talks to you."

You parted from their mother, feeling the pressure of their request.

"It's okay to curse him, or to scream, or rough him up, I'll even help you." Alexei placed his hand on your shoulder to comfort you.

You nodded, sighing as they guided you to his room. And as you entered with a heavy feeling in your chest, he immediately sat up, alerted by your presence. You stare at each other for a bit before you muttered a word.

"Hi." You greeted him shortly.

"Hey..." His voice was soft, and his eyes followed you attentively.

"I'm sorry to intrude, I'll make this quick." You breathe deeply, trying to relax yourself. "I finished the papers, split the assets, got the lawyers."

"I talked to her, y-your woman..." You looked down, fidgeting with your hands. Childe seemed unfazed by it, though his gaze seem to falter at the mention of 'his woman'.

"She... umm... wasn't really interested anymore after the accident..." You breathe heavily, feeling small under his gaze. "But... your family's here to take care of you..."

Clearing your throat, you continued. "I do have one request, if I could... I would like a safe boat ride back home." You stepped closer, intending to hand him the envelope that contained all the paperwork to finalize your divorce.

"Take it all." You stopped in your tracks as he spoke.

"The house, the mora, the boat. It's all yours..." He lays back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. "Would you also do me a favor?"

You looked at him, encouraging him to speak.

"Carve my heart out and take it with you."

"...Can we be serious for a second?" You sighed.

"I would like to stay with you. I think that would be a good way to do it without constantly wanting to punch myself." You noticed that his eyes started to flood with tears.

"Ajax... I'm sorry this happened to you..."

"No, Y/N, I'm sorry... I'm sorry for everything." He sat up again, tears falling from his eyes as he looks up at you with genuine eyes. "I don't know why I did that. And I... I regret it so much..." He reached for your hand, and you let him hold onto you for strength.

"Every tear I had in me I already cried when you left me for her." You smiled bitterly, though you remained soft, making him even more guilty as you try to stay strong. "But I appreciate the apology..."

You pull your hand away from him slowly, feeling that he was reluctant to let go.

"I-I still love you..."

You gave him a final smile. "You'll love someone better than me... Childe..." You back away, leaving him alone in his room still yearning for the days where his memory only consisted of loving you.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Hiiii again after quite a while! I think I've been noticing that my recent fics have been angst, I guess I just feel like hurting you guys this season of giving (I give pain :D)

Anywayy, anon, I think at some point I went my own direction and didn't fully stick to your request (I'm sorryyy TvT) but I hope you like it anyway!

[kimyoonmiauthor]

Slight note about the system of food.

'cause adding it to the large doc might crash my computer?

I've realized that though historical fiction minds this more when set in pre-industrial times, that often fantasy set in agricultural societies doesn't seem to do this, though it should.

So I'll give you an example...

Almost everything in Korean food is centered and bred for two things: Kimchi and soy sauce.

But what you don't realize in your industrialized state how freaking long it takes to make these things and how much planning is involved and how much you have to mind the seasons in order to make it correctly.

Kimchi:

Baekchu (or other vegetables) that's often harvested in fall.

The salt, which was traditionally sea salt was harvested in the spring and summer months.

Garlic is a spring to mid summer crop.

The sweet rice that goes into winter kimchi takes a ton of work to make and can take from Spring to fall.

The fish sauce that goes into Kimchi that helps preserve it for over a year, takes and ENTIRE YEAR to make. Yes, a year. You really, really have to plan on that. And what do you do if the fishing is poor for that year?

Spring onions are faster to grow, but you still have to time it for the fall kimchi making.

The fish are seasonal. For example, Yellow Corvina is taken in Korea in the spring. Shrimp in the summer (June), and anchovies in early spring to fall.

Your timing has to be impeccable and you need an entire year to plan this one dish.

Meanwhile, you, industrialized person, take for granted that you can get fish sauce any time you like and can pour it over kimchi.

In fantasy this could add flavor to your fantasy make up, if your character can only get this dish once a year. It can add political unrest (What do you mean the salt harvest was poor and we're left with the shitty metallic salt), because your characters in an agricultural society will be subject to weather changes, which you get when reading historical fiction and so on. Three seasons of poor harvest, daaaamnn... the people might overthrow their government. There might be new religions that pop up, there might be uprisings because the King and Queen are eating feasts every day while the peasants are eating things that are empty calories.

What I'm saying is that you can't be too entrenched into industrial mindset if you're not writing an industrial setting.

That orange is seasonal and only comes about in a connected system that has winter and a warmer climate.

Maybe there are key foods for your climate that are highly treasured or sought after. Mandarins once were. Cacao. Think a bit about those things and how it might interact with the larger world. When does your plant mature and when can it be harvested? is it different from different climates? There's wars that have been fought over food. (Tea, famously, at least a few times).

A staple crop failing is going to have devastating consequences.

And yet, often in fantasy, I often see people going, ya know what I can eat in the dead of winter, strawberries. Do we have greenhouses? No. Did we have freezers? No. But you know what my character is eating? A strawberry. Yeah, think about that. Strawberries don't preserve well. So plan out the timing of your dishes a bit (to the climate and subsistence system) and it can give a bit of background worldbuilding to your dishes and food.

I do have to say that the small mentions from Rings of Power on what's in season or not and why kinda made me feel like the world and the traveling was more "real" with the Harfoot. There's small references to fall v. spring crops.

[elizabethrobertajones]

kriles summer trust top is kinda problematic tho... lalafell r smol and should be wholesome.

Aw, come on.

I'm sorry but I have to disagree because within the fiction, lalafell are just as mean, gross and horny as anyone else. Gegeruju is a perv, and the whole Ul'dah Syndicate is full of evil little bastards. On the good side, lala are just as complex and grown up as anyone else - Tataru courts followers and dances in a skimpy outfit in the Forgotten Knight, Giott is a roaring drunk stereotypical fantasy dwarf (not to mention whatever the heck is going on with the Tomra and Komra dwarves in general tbh :P). And Lamitt's story was sweet but it did involve her having adult feelings for Ardbert.

Like, really, I can only think of 4 completely wholesome lala out of a cast of hundreds, and they happen to mostly be the ones we've interacted with a lot (Nanamo; Pipin who is a Heroic Knight archetype; Papalymo, who was a grumpy old scholar man; Krile). But that's more about them being main characters serving roles in the narrative rather than indicative of how lalas behave as a whole. In fact after going through ARR, meeting Pipin and finding One Good Ul'dahn Lala is an enormous relief (since the other one is apparently dead now).

And Krile is a main character now so she's allowed to step out of the shadow of being uwu cat hoodie girl who wasn't written with much depth outside of being serious and earnest and rather spooky; she's actually 22 years old according to the first wiki I found - regardless of if that's totally accurate she's definitely meant to be a peer of the other adult Scions and they all treat her like an adult. Her introduction cutscene has her ribbing Alphy as an older friend laughing at how a much younger one used to behave, so we're supposed to immediately understand on meeting her that she's post-teen since she knew 11 year old Alphy and was of course older than him since he was a freak entry into the Studium at that age. Probably a necessary writing moment because establishing lala's age with hilarious moustaches or deep voices or whatever is a part of how the game has to present them.

Out of the fiction, I know lalas are part of a much wider trope that people do find problematic as a whole (e.g. just because in universe Tataru has babes across the globe and that's normal to everyone involved, who are consenting adults in a world which wholly understands Tataru as a consenting adult, is it actually really creepy that it's happening at all because her body type is toddler-esque? Is it weird in general that lala emotes are SO baby in the same way miqo emotes are SO kitty?

ffxiv definitely goes waaay further into borderline creepy territory than many games with smaller fantasy races in it, when it comes to how lala look, so yeah I know it's a fraught area and can be discomforting to see the game present child-shaped people as having adult desires and a thing some people understandably set aside along with other elements as things they're not happy with co-existing in the game with things they really love.) We can absolutely talk about that on a meta level of how we relate to the game and feel about it, just like things we find racist or uncomfortable in other ways e.g. eng translation Hien's treatment of Yotsuyu being a really problematic point.

But, that's one thing, versus talking about us here in fandom and how we relate to it, and I think your ask is, well, really not very deeply considered on any level, but I think is talking about how we as fandom relate to lalas, based on an inaccurate reading of them in the game, meaning you're really not even analysing a thing about it and therefore your ask comes more in the terms of policing how we should FEEL about Krile's beach outfit, and dictating that we SHOULD find lalas smol and wholesome, and that therefore there's an inherent problem in anyone reacting positively to the outfit, rather than critiquing its place in the game in the first place. Having hit a cognitive dissonance in seeing swimsuit Krile existing you've come to me to complain it's problematic rather than taking any actual meaningful action. Ergo, this is a fandom problem to you, not a game problem. WE should find it problematic and say so, you are implying, shocked that so many people looked at a post about the beach outfits and no one commented as such.

Aside from lalafell being fictional and at no point other than the visuals are they treated as children (and emotes aside, playing through the MSQ as a lala wol you easily fall into seeing them as an adult because of course all the cutscenes share the same level of gravitas no matter what you're playing or what clown costume you have on any player), there ARE actually real humans who are built somewhere closer to lala than not, and would be drawn to playing any of the smaller races in a game (like, gnomes in WoW, halflings in D&D, etc) because that's just their chance at representation. And because FFXIV doesn't have anything other than precious moments doll-shaped people the look might be great in the sense that they have the proportions of a cherub statue and it is a lot harder to meet in the middle than a halfling (notoriously hairy middle aged bastards and much easier to read as adult, though that doesn't exclusively represent people who've had growth developmental differences), that IS still the only representative option some people have in the game and if they want to indulge it rather than play something else with proportions forced on them by many games, then what the hell is wrong with that?

And they WILL go to bat for lalas and get upset when people say that they have to be precious baby characters who act like children. I've seen that on tumblr: there's a whole lala community who keeps kinda low key and away from everyone else by their own admission BECAUSE as soon as they get too much attention they're deluged with hate for playing characters who have adult desires and dress fancy - or, you know, like any other random slutty elf WoL. The fact I wandered onto lala blogs at random and saw that complaint on the first pages should speak to how often they have to deal with it. And, again, within the fiction of the game their characters are completely 100% normal and doing what other lalas who are written by the game do as well. I KNOW those blogs are out there and they'd be scared of getting this exact ask, and it would greatly upset them and ruin their day and put them off having any interaction with the community, which fucking sucks. We're here to have fun!

That said I'm not a weirdo anti all up in others' business, it's also fine to just like lalas and stuff without some huge circumstantial justification like "they look like me" - or - "my IRL wife" or whatever - you can also just play a lala or ship with one and it's like, your business. If that's all you're doing and it's not a hypothetical child molester who also has a whole gallery of lala porn that the cops find when they impound the computer full of REAL CHILDREN stuff as well it's never going to be anyone else's business anyway, ever, and that's like, one hypothetical awful person for a whole fandom of normies who are just surprised by how much idk Pipin's deep voice rocked their world and changed their whole perspective on what a hot character was.

Like, granted, that one HYPOTHETICAL weirdo will make everything rancid because there are people waiting to jump on people who like lalas, but also it still won't actually change what other people are doing into being Evil just because someone who actually hurts children found lalas attractive too. That, again, was the hypothetical awful person's problem and not theirs. And in no way can we just casually imply ALL people who like lalas are just inherently going to be dangerous, like real children, or enacting a private psychodrama teetering on the edge of all that.

They could in fact be completely average and boring psychologically and also have a crush on Tataru. Or, I guess, normal amount of weird for a fandom, but basically average XD In a fictional world where these characters are treated as adults, even normal people will naturally end up drawn to them as adults because, well, that's the story that's we're all engaging in. It's not inherently a thought crime to do so, because, weirdly, thought crimes don't exist.

Also, of course, people will literally discourse that hobbits are child-coded and shouldn't be shipped or seen as sexy, despite the most famous halflings, who made the entire halfling race as a generic brand, all being middle aged, hairy, smoking, drinking, guys with normal adult desires and mindsets. I mean yeah Elijah Wood was 18 when they started filming LotR (over several years so he was Krile's age by the end :P) but also Frodo celebrated his 40th birthday before setting off on the Ring Quest in the book and he was the baby of the group aside from Pippin.

In any case, there's no fucking winning and so I can understand completely that if a fucking Hobbit from Lord of the Rings gets shit for being short, and people are getting called a perv for fancying Sam Gamgee, then why not just embrace it with a Lalafell because you're literally damned no matter what in the eyes of someone who won't meet a LOTR HOBBIT where he stands as an adult man.

There's some DEEP puritanical brainrot going on online and I don't want to be a part of it whatsoever, so it means accepting lala likers for the sake of protecting Merry and Pippin's right to be seen as hot, than like, I know which side of of the line I'm dragging my beach chair. It's not even a question. I'm defending people who think lalas are appealing.

ANYWAY none of this is my business, I don't even find lalas sexy, I just think Krile looks nice in her cute summer top and it's lovely that she's getting fashion advice from her besties, and there's a million reasons to be happy about that and for her as a character, and only miserable bastard reasons to go "aurgh aurgh it's problematic" and condemn the game and everyone who plays it just for enjoying something. Lalas are NOT smol and wholesome, they're short and people, and that's fine.

[hippiegoth97]

Random Eddie Thought #2

This one really got away from me, but it's nice to write something new again :)

18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie, smut, sex dreams/fantasies, mentions of genital piercings/oral sex/masturbation/choking/unprotected sex, invasion of privacy, erections, crying, heavy kissing, idiots in love, best friends to lovers

A Few Tags: @rafescurtainbangz @voyeurmunson @babygorewhore @xxbimbobunnyxx @mediocredreams

@micheledawn1975 @slowandsteddie @bimbobaggins69 @etherealxwitch @taintedcigs

You're in the kitchen of your apartment, getting a snack to share with Eddie, your best friend, who's come to have a perfectly platonic sleepover with you. You've known each other since high school, becoming fast friends. You never fit in the with 'in crowd' and Eddie naturally picked up on your awkward and shy nature. Over the years he's managed to get you to open up more and be yourself, though it's mostly only around him, even after all these years. You tell each other everything, and have been there for one another through thick and thin.

One thing he hasn't seemed to notice, however, is your growing feelings for him. As you both matured into your mid-twenties, you've been unable to deny just how gorgeous Eddie is. With his long curls, big brown eyes, and lithe body covered in tats and piercings. Not to mention he's perpetually dressed in band tees and jeans that don't leave much to the imagination. Ugh, he's absolutely perfect. Inside and out.

That's not to say he hasn't always been hot stuff, because of course he has. But he's not the scrawny little boy who picked you out of a long line of geeks and freaks anymore. No, now he's a strong, handsome, sexy man. A man who treats you like no one ever has before. He brings you something every time he comes to see you, ranging anywhere between a new book or a pretty rock he found on a walk once. He opens doors for you, and holds you in his arms when you're sad. He makes you soup when you're sick, nursing you back to health even if it means missing work.

The only thing missing, is something you've craved since the day you met him. Something you've never spoken aloud. Something you've only verbalized in late night cries of ecstasy when you get off to the thought of your best friend. Something you've only admitted in the pages of your diary. The diary that Eddie has just found in your bedside drawer, along with a pretty pink rabbit that makes him chuckle when he first sees it.

And what do we have here?... Eddie thinks to himself, pulling the book out of its hiding place. It's thick, bound in leather, detailed with little leaves and flowers. He thinks maybe it's a poetry journal, or a sketchbook. You share his affinity for the creative. It isn't until he actually opens that he realizes what's inside. Your deepest, darkest secrets. He flips through the pages, noting the dates as he reads about strange dreams you've had, or bad one-night stands. His eyes widen when he reaches an entry from a week ago, with the opening line: I dreamt about Eddie again last night...

He debates putting the diary back, not wanting to invade your privacy. He's not one to snoop, especially when you tell him everything anyway. Well, at least he thought you did. He bites his lip, tapping his foot on the floor as he decides what to do. He really should just put it back, and pretend he never saw it (or your special toy). But something inside him begs to know what your dreams of him are like. If they're anything resembling the dirty fantasies he's had of you while alone in his bed, he can't let it go until he knows for sure. He decides to read the next few lines, after flicking his eyes to the doorway to listen for your footsteps coming back from the kitchen.

...it was the same as all the others. Eddie was in my bed, and we were naked. His soft, warm lips were on mine, his tongue was in my mouth, and his hands were everywhere. It felt so good, having him kiss me like that while he explored every inch of me. His fingers were carefully thrusting inside my pussy, making me so fucking wet. I could feel his dick pressing into my thigh, and I took him in my hand. The noise he made when I touched him was so beautiful, he sounded so breathless and needy for me...

Eddie knows he should stop. This is wrong. So, so wrong. These are your private thoughts, and he shouldn't be reading them. Even if they're making a tent form in his pants. His heart races in his chest, and he feels rather hot under the collar. His stomach twists with an uneasy mix of guilt and arousal. He lets out a shaky breath, once again weighing his options. Keep reading, or put the damn thing away and never, ever bring it up. He looks down the hall, wondering how much time he has left before you come back. Against his better judgment, he gives in to his desire for you. With eyes glued to your neat handwriting, he reads on.

...I could feel him grow in my hand, fuck, he was huge. I've seen it in real life before, and not entirely on accident. Since we're so close, we change in front of each other sometimes. And even though I've never seen it hard, I can tell his dick is big. It's even got a goddamn piercing on it, shining in the light like a lure. I swear to God, it takes everything in me not to fall to my knees and take him in my mouth whenever I see it...

Eddie scoffs loudly, unable to believe you've actually been checking him out. A part of him wonders if this is a sick joke, that you'd somehow known to leave this here for him to see. Any second now, you'll come busting in here and laugh in his face. Maybe even snap a picture of his embarrassingly large erection amd make copies to give all your friends.

But that's not you. You're too kind and sweet to him to ever pull such a cruel (and improbably elaborate) prank. Sure, he's wanted you for years. To call you his girl, to love you the way you should be loved. To kiss you, and hold you, and touch you in all the ways he thinks you'd like. To love you, and spoil you like the queen you are in his eyes. He's just never allowed himself to think you'd ever feel the same about him. Until now.

"What are you doing with that?" You ask softly, frozen in place in the doorway of your bedroom with a tray of snacks in your hands. Your eyes are blown wide, as you've come back to find Eddie on your bed, reading your diary, with a huge hard-on in his pants.

"I-I, I was, uh, just...um..." Eddie babbles helplessly, slamming the book shut and tossing it across the room. As if it being anywhere else will magically absolve him of invading your privacy. You just stare at him as he goes red in the face, and gestures with his hands as he fails to come up with an explanation. "...sorry." He says after letting out a long string of unintelligible sounds. He cringes at the word, realizing it's not nearly enough. But his mind and mouth can't come up with anything that doesn't sound like a feral goblin choking on a chicken bone.

"What part did you read?" You ask, your own cheeks turning a deep crimson. You really hope he didn't find your latest sex dream entry, but the glaring evidence in his jeans tells you that's exactly what he saw.

"Read? No, I was, um...j-just skimming..." He chuckles nervously, hoping you'll buy it. But the darkening blush on your skin and tears welling in your eyes lets him know he's truly caught. "Sweetheart, I—" Eddie starts, standing up as you're about to fall apart.

"Eddie, I swear, I-I didn't mean it! It was just a dream, and pfft! I was high when I wrote that!" You laugh uncontrollably as a way to hide your tears of embarrassment, frantically shaking your head. You've never been so mortified in your life, caught red handed in the worst way possible. You could've gone forever without ever letting him know how you feel. The potential rejection seemed too painful to endure. "I didn't mean it, Eddie. I didn't." Your laughter devolves into soft sobs, your grip loosening on the tray. Eddie catches it before everything tumbles to the floor, setting it on your dresser.

"Sweetheart, c'mere." Eddie takes your hands in his, and leads you over to your bed to sit beside him. You follow him, unable to do much else as tears stream down your face. "I'm sorry for snooping, angel. That wasn't right for me to do." He says sadly, stroking your soft skin with his thumbs. You nod in response. "And we can pretend this never happened, okay? Like you said, it was just a dream." He offers, his own words stabbing into his heart at the idea of never fully being with you the way he wants. But he doesn't feel like he's earned it. Not after making you so upset, and betraying your trust.

"Why did you read it?" You ask abruptly, more curious than angry. As humiliating as it is that he found you out before you could tell him yourself, you want to know how those secret words made him feel.

"I got bored, and curious. I found it in your drawer, thinking it was poetry or something. But then I found the entry of you dreaming about me..." Eddie trails off, pondering what to say next. "...and I got more curious."

"About what?" You continue, your tears drying up.

"About whether or not you want me the same way I want you." He boldly admits. He may as well, since your diary entries admitted your own wonderful, awful, heart-breaking, nerve-wracking secret to him. You don't say anything else, eyes blown wide in shock. "I want to be with you, princess. I've always wanted that." He says emphatically, making your heart swell as well as race.

"Really?" You ask, as if his erection earlier wasn't enough indication of his desire for you. You've dreamt about this moment so many times, spent numerous moments throughout the days and nights hoping one day he'd see you. You now stupidly realize, that there was never a time where he didn't.

"Yes, really. If you can forgive me for being a creep, that is." He says with a chuckle, making you giggle as well.

"Yeah, I think I can manage that." You smile, squeezing his hands with your own. "How far did you get anyway?" You ask curiously.

"Uh, right about where you talked about wanting to suck my massive, pierced cock." Eddie replies, moaning in an exaggerated way on his final words to tease you.

"Ugh, that's so embarrassing!" You groan, covering your face in shame.

"It's really not, babydoll. I'm just flattered that you noticed." He insists, pulling your hands down so he can see your pretty face again.

"I'll count myself lucky you didn't read any more." You giggle sheepishly, recalling how the rest of that dream went. You riding Eddie's cock while his large hand wraps tightly around your throat, filthy praises leaving his lips to spur you on. Him fucking you from behind, tugging your head back by your hair as he grunts and groans with every thrust. Among other equally explicit things.

"Shit, now I have to read the rest!" Eddie says impishly, diving off the bed to get the diary that still lays on the floor.

"Eddie, no! Please, it's too embarrassing!" You shriek, clamoring after him. But he's quicker than you, snatching up the book and holding it above your head. You try to jump up and tear it from his reach, but it's no use. He chuckles at your foolish attempts, slowly moving closer to you while still holding the diary above your heads. His free arm wraps around your waist, pulling you close. Your hands meet his chest, a small gasp leaving your lips at the sudden movement. He gazes deep into your eyes with burning lust, a smirk plastered on his lips.

"Think of it this way, sweetheart. If I read the rest, I'll know exactly what we're doing tonight." He speaks seductively, in a way you've only heard in your dreams.

"This can't be happening." You scoff, convinced you somehow fell asleep before Eddie came over tonight.

"Is it really so hard to believe that I'm in love with you?" He asks, dropping the Casanova act for a second and tossing the diary on the bed. He cups your cheek, and leans in to kiss you. His plush lips meet yours, giving you a taste of sweet, beautiful reality.

"Mm." You grab hold of the sides of his face, deepening the kiss. His tongue finds its way into your mouth, drawing a quiet moan from you. Time seems to stop as your mouths move together as one, and joyful tears spring from your eyes. This is all you've ever wanted. To love Eddie, and to have him love you back.

He carefully leads you backwards to the bed, laying you down on top of it as he kneels above you. He pulls away, wiping the salty tracks from your face. He smiles warmly, admiring every last bit of you and saving it away to remember this forever. "Can I make you feel good, sweetheart?" Eddie asks, as if it's his dying wish.

"Please." You reply softly, giving him a nod.

"Perfect." He reaches over for the diary, finding his place as he lays down beside you. "Now...where were we?" He muses, eyes bugging out when he reads what comes next. "Christ, I picked a good night to be nosy." He turns his head to look at you, wearing a devilish grin unlike you've ever seen on him before. "I swear to god, I'm gonna make all your dreams come true, babydoll. Even if it takes all night." He purrs, before chucking the damned book away one last time and pouncing on you.

[thel0v3hashira143]

❝ 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐘𝐄𝐒! ❝

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ married life with jjk men ☆ yuuji megumi gojo geto nanami n ino!

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masterlist 💕

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ warnings: fem!reader, reader is a sorcerer, black coded but anyone can read, mentions of sex/pregnancy/kids, mentions of breakups

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ notes: sorry they're kinda short!! i abandoned my ap chem work to do this so pls like it up!😞😞inspired by my personal fantasies lately. sighhh i love my man :3 stay hot!!! 🎀

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ 1.1k words, 6.3k characters

yuuji itadori 🌸

BRUHH I LOVE HIM SM HE'S SO HUSBAND MATERIAL

the first out of the bunch to tie the knot

a high school sweetheart kinda vibe like y'all def got married straight out of graduating jujutsu tech

small and intimate wedding, just friends and family in attendance

never shuts up about you when you guys are apart.

"y'know [name]- my wife, me and my wife-, isn't my wife just the coolest?"

megumi and nobara are SICK OF HIM

absolutely REFUSES to go on missions without you cause bby just wants to protect you

when you guys finish missions he always takes you out to eat in tokyo, it's like a lil tradition you guys do 🥲💕

as for dates it's always super spontaneous and he makes sure you never do the same thing twice

but he likes to stay home too!! movie dates at home are his favorite, but he won't tell you since he knows you like going out

HE ALSO PAYS FOR UR STUFF AT THE BEAUTY SUPPLY UGHHH

just follows you around as you fill up the basket and is ready to pay at the register

he's just so happy he's yours.

megumi fushiguro 🌸

not THE last! but one of the last to get married

BUT HE LOVES U SO FREAKING MUCH

it took him a couple years to pop the question, not because he wasn't sure about your relationship, but because he wanted to make sure he was ready before making such a big commitment

no wedding, y'all eloped and went to the courthouse but you had a little ceremony after :3

isn't super vocal about his affections like yuuji, but he does small things

you're his homescreen and his lockscreen is a picture of you two at the courthouse when you guys got married 🩷

he trust your abilities but does secretly fret when you go on missions alone

as for dates he's def a homebody...

he considers any one on one time with you a date...not in a lame way tho!

he just finds the two of you in your home alone to be intimate and comfortable

speaking of home alone...you guys have one kiddo since you guys were a little older when you tied the knot!!

a cute little girl who is y'alls pride and joy. when you told megumi you were pregnant tho he was terrified.

he just didn't want to turn out like his father

but he loves you and your little girl dearly 🩷.

satoru gojo 🌸

THE BLUE EYED PRINCE IS UR HUSBAND??? girl whats ur secret??

anyways, small wedding (he didn't want the elders all up in ur buisness) happy home, and wayyy too many kids

nobody expected you both to have so many kids but you have such a beautiful body!! how could he keep his hands off you?

and besides look at him and tell me he doesn't have a breeding kink...

due to you both being the strongest sorcerers and the kids, your schedules got a bit hectic but he always makes sure you're taken care of

multiple calls day and night, he loves to hear your voice...or moans. (he's hi-key a freak)

RESTURAUNT DATES

we know he loves sweets but you guys always go to nice restaurants, cause he believes you deserves the finest things in life

and he loves his kid so dearly

he's giving me 2 girls, 1 boy energy

from the tea parties, makeovers and late video game nights, he endures it all because of how much he adores them.

he adores you even more tho <3.

suguru geto 🌸

the. perfect. husband.

anything you want? you got it.

hair? done. nails? how much is your set?

definitely had the biggest wedding out of everyone (and the biggest ring)

AND A HUGE HONEYMOON like y'all were gone at least 2 weeks

everyone's fav couple, like nobody ever gets sick of y'all

he absolutely lovesss pda can can't keep his hands to him self. always has a hand on your lower back, arm around your shoulders, and he's just super in tune to you as a whole

wants kids bad, LIKE BAD

and y'all got busy on that honeymoon so you def had one pretty soon after the wedding

when you were pregnant, he spoiled you rotten and he made it his #1 priority to make sure you hadn't a worry in the world

you have 2 beautiful girls and suguru loves them more than life

he tries his best to keep them away from sorcerer life for as long as possible because he knows what it's like to be ostracized because of that life

has no favorites, but if he did it would be you.

kento nanami 🌸

sighhh my old man :)))

last to marry, but the ceremony was beautiful!

intimate but like i said, vv nice

lovesss to spoil you!! and plus we all know he makes hella bank bc he needs someone to spend it on

shopping dates!! mostly consist of him following you around and you just picking out what you like

if you even look at smth he's already at the register

prefers staying at home dates though, like reading together, cooking together, and movie dates!!

minimizes pda in public- perhaps holds your hand maybe

but in private he is so clingyyyy like you have to tear him off you lip to lip, chest to chest, hip to hip, you name it

you practically hung the stars, you could do no wrong in his eyes

is 50/50 on kids???

he's not going to actively ask you to start a family but he also is totally on board if you want to

we all know this man is under a lot of stress so his favorite way to spend time with you is coming home after a long day and cuddling with you 🩷

he's utterly obsessed with you (he's just good at hiding it)

takuma ino 🌸

THIS IS LITERALLY MY HUSBAND GUYS- HEAR ME OUT

high school sweethearts but y'all broke up right before graduation

you guys adored eachother but he was scared of losing you once you guys became sorcerers ಥ_ಥ

but fear not! you guys got back together a year- 2 years later bc he's in love with u

he wanted to propose as soon as you got back together but he has more common sense than that

when he does though it's so cutieee

def private and small, just like the wedding. only your closest friends and family, because he wants everything to be perfect

loves fun dates like laser-tag, go-carts, ect. bc he is just a big little kid

if you do missions together, he is literally that scene from hotel transylvania: "that's my girlfriend!" "your wife, ino..." "my wife? even better!"

i'm not even gonna sugarcoat it y'all get pregnant immediately after

ino is def terrified. you guys are both young and you've barely been married for 3 months

but he pulls it together obv and y'all have a cutie little son <3

just like yuuji, he gushes about his little family to nanami constantly (kento acts like he hates it but he finds it endearing)

he reads to your son for bedtime every night WITHOUT FAIL

he always thinks about how he wouldn't have things any other way.

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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ i wrote this in like 2 hours and i have a chem quiz tommorow i hope u guys like it 😿😿(pls love me) BUT I GET TO SEE MY MAN TOMMORROW AHHHH. sorry i'm not gonna shut up about himmm. ok bye stay hot ily guys sm!!!!

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐲 ♡

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𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚!

𝙘𝙤𝙥𝙮𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙡0𝙫3𝙝𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙖143 2024

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Astarion Very Happy Ending

So full disclosure, my Tav was a Selunite, and I can't stop thinking well if Bhaal can have a mortal chosen one, why can't Selune?

Also, spoiler warning, stop reading here if you don't want, but like damn girl I freaking turn a Shar priestess away from her god back to you, free a man from his devil's contact, high-key save the world, kill bhaals chocen, convince my vampiric lover to not sacrifice thousands of people, stop an entire goblin army from murdering Tieflings and druids alike, and literally free your daughter. A reward is in order!

This is that reward:

Astarion was slowly getting used to living in the shadows again, as loathe as he was to admit it. It was quite the transition, despite the fact that his time in the sun had amounted to less than a year. But what a lovely year it was. Nearly a perfect one in comparison to the rest of his life. And the promise of more of the same was a suitable balm to being cursed back into the darkness.

It was difficult, but with the love of his life by his side it was more than tolerable. Borderline beautiful in fact, to be able to live his life so freely despite the infuriating complications.

The money also certainly helped.

That was one thing Astarion always had over his brothers and sisters, his fantasies of a better life had always surrounded around Cazador's murder. Not his approval. He may have been completely unaware of the horrifying dungeon beneath their feet, but he did know where the deed to his estate and other properties were kept. And now had enough connections with the higher up's of Baldur's gate for some frankly exquisite forgeries. It had been a particularly satisfying feeling to sell all of his former master's possessions off, even more so when it came to the land. Almost like he was tearing apart his legacy and handing it off to the highest bitter, piece by piece.

Though, being there with you to find and settle in your own little corner of paradise was an even better feeling. Maybe it didn't quite reach his past dreams of grandeur, but it turned out settling in a quaint and poorly lit townhouse in the upper city was more than enough for him to be satisfied.

It was a good charming life, one that Astarion was sure he didn't deserve. But that certainly wasn't going to stop him from enjoying it. Though as much as he adored where he ended up, he'd be lying if he said it was perfect.

No, perfect would have been finding a way for him to ascend without becoming a monster, living in a world where he could be with you fully, completely, out in the sun like the kind of lover you deserved. It made him feel... startlingly inadequate. Everything you did had to be in accordance to his schedule. His lack of capabilities. And just because you always insisted it didn't matter didn't fix the feeling of inadequacy. He hated it, hated the fact that there were so many hours of the day that you couldn't share. He didn't regret his choice, not for a moment, but that didn't mean he was fully satisfied with the consequences.

But in his own defense, he did make up for it in other ways. Mildly frustrating and draining ways, if not a bit rewarding. It had been his own fault, falling so utterly and completely for such a goody two-shoes. A zealot to Selune, as fierce as she was compassionate, always trying to do what was fair and just. Always dragging Astarion on for the ride of her cleric duties.

But he couldn't blame you for all of his new do-gooder ways. Not when he was nearly the leader of a bizarre cult of repentant vampire spawn.

It was just the slightest bit exhausting to so often be playing the part of their heroic leader, fighting all of his murderous instincts to work for a better future for himself and the brethren he had personally damned. Though he'd be lying if he said he didn't get any satisfaction from it. It felt... good to teach them new ways to live. To give them the chance at the beautiful life he had managed to secure for himself.

He wouldn't do it forever, just until he was confident enough to be sure that his departure wouldn't lead to a massacre on either side. Then the two of you would be off to explore the lands, working to do your goddesses work with just a touch of hedonistic activities on the way.

Astarion was looking forward to it. He hadn't done all that work to be selfless forever. No, he was going to be forced to insist on a few years of having you all to himself, with only the occasional bits of volunteer work for the temple as interruption. Then the two of you could go back to galivanting about the lands being local heroes. But he had earned an extended vacation.

One that, luckily, he hadn't had to fight you on too much. That was just one other thing he loved about you, your complete understanding that Astarion would always be a little selfish, especially when it came to you. The one person who had ever really been his, who loved him, who understood him, who believed in him. Could he be blamed for wanting to have you all to himself?

And admittedly, he did have you more often then not. Even if on occasion he did have to share with your beloved goddess.

Astarion sighed as he watched you pray in the moonlight, completely absorbed in your quiet, mystical chants. Despite his distaste for the length of your prayer sessions, Astarion did like seeing your more ritualistic side. Just... maybe not for the morally correct reasons.

He was well aware that being so involved with a vampire was clearly against your religious doctrine. But it didn't matter. You still choose him, despite how the knowledge nearly made you an outcast amongst your own kind. But he mattered more than your reputation, more than the lessons you had been taught your entire life regarding love and evil.

You still had your faith, but you never let it shake the faith you had in him, something that he valued more than he could ever express. It was perhaps a sick thought, but it also made him feel exceedingly powerful, to know the true extent of your feelings. Even more connected. It was almost... like he was defiling you, corrupting a beautiful flower to turn away from the sun to something even brighter. A love that Astarion doubted most could ever hope to feel.

Perhaps that was not the best outlook on your religion, but oh well. He'd keep those thoughts to himself. What you didn't know wouldn't kill you. Besides... if anyone had been corrupted it was him, plagued with a new sense of loyalty and gods, justice. All from the beautifully strange woman kneeling in the moonlight.

Though, you sure were taking awhile tonight. Nearly twice as long as your usual nightly prayer. He hated to interrupt your worship but this was starting to cut into his time a bit here.

"My dear," Astarion called out, swinging his legs over your shared bed to stand, "Don't you think that you've been kneeling there for a touch too long?"

But you didn't respond, still muttering under your breath, even faster than before.

Astarion narrowed his eyes as he walked closer towards you, confused by your lack of response, "Darling-Tav?"

Astarion stopped, eyes wide as he got a solid look at your first. Your eyes were wide open, body rim rod straight as your irises glowed a vibrant blue light.

What in the nine hells was happening? Astarion kneeled next to you, his heart in his throat as he shook your shoulders, "Tav, love, can you hear me? What is this?"

You didn't answer, you didn't even acknowledge his presence. But you did start floating in the god damn air. Astarion stared, helpless as he watched you levitate, words that he didn't understand spilling from your lips.

Then just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. You fell unceremoniously to the floor. Astarion scrambled towards you, his heart in his throat as you started to come to. He settled your head in his lap, his hands shaking as he touched your face, lost on what he should be doing.

You blinked your eyes open slowly, that angelic glow still radiating from your irises. But you didn't look frightened, more... excited.

You grinned up at him, your voice slightly cracking when you murmured, "We've been blessed."

Astarion stared at you, brow furrowed. He was happy you were alive and speaking but...

"That's lovely?" Astarion tried, "But severely lacking in terms of an explanation. Are you okay?"

You nodded eagerly, suddenly sitting up with an unexpected amount of energy, "I'll explain later, we don't have much time."

What was it that compelled you religious types to be so cryptic? But you didn't give him anytime to question. Instead you wrapping your arms around his neck and smashing your lips together, kissing him hard enough to take his breath away.

He wrapped strong arms around your back, pulling you in closer, always helpless but to return your affection. But something about this was different. He could feel it, holy magic spreading through him through your lips, down throughout his veins, changing something inside of him. It wasn't unpleasant per say, but it certainly was startling. Startling enough for him to almost push you away, if it wasn't for the fact that he trusted you with everything inside of himself.

Neither of you pulled away until the blue fire in your eyes had died out, and Astarion was left with the intense sensation that something had changed, irrevocably inside of him.

You stared at each other, Astarion in confusion while you looked nothing short of gleeful, "Do you feel it?"

He felt... strange. A warmth still spreading through him that was settling. Astarion raised a brow at you, exceedingly impatient when he asked, "First, how about you explain to me what in the hells that was?"

But you didn't answer. Instead you stood with an adorable hop, lending a hand out to help him up, "Do you trust me?"

Astarion almost rolled his eyes as he took your hand, annoyed that he fell for someone that had just as much of a flair for the dramatic as he did, "You know I do."

You helped him to his feet before you started to mumble again, a startlingly familiar incantation seeping from your lips. It was the spell for daylight, the very same that you had used to help defeat Cazador. The kind that could now kill Astarion in mere moments.

He was too shocked at your audacity to even protest, believing for a split, terrifying second that he was about to die a fiery death. Sunlight suddenly filled the room, bright enough for Astarion to tightly shut his eyes.

Then...nothing. No burning, no pain, nothing but the sounds of you both breathing.

That didn't-how was he-what did you just do?

Astarion stared at you, absolutely flabbergasted with his mouth hanging open, staring at the borrowed daylight like a simpleton, "But how?"

You were still grinning ear to ear, looking happier than Astarion had ever seen you before. You grasped his hands in yours, your smile gentle as you explained, "I told you. We were blessed. Our Lady of Silver gave me one gift, and this is what I choose."

If sunlight wasn't already staring him in the face, Astarion would never believe it. But here he was, alive and standing under it's warmth. A gift from a goddess, spent on him of all creatures.

"It can't fix everything," You clarified with the slightest frown, "But it can fix this."

He could feel the truth in your words. He was still... wrong. A creature born of something awful, doomed to eternity and a life of bloodlust. But part of that wrongness had been culled, curling up and dying from Selune's holy magic, from your enduring love.

It was a dream he never thought possible. One that he had accepted never having. But here he was, here you were, continuing to give him the impossible.

It was enough to bring tears to his eyes. Astarion reached up, cupping your face before confessing the truth he couldn't quell.

"I don't deserve you," He whispered, voice hoarse, "I'll never deserve you. Words can't express my thanks. You have given me everything, while I have nothing but myself to give in return. But it's always yours. Everything inside of me."

He meant every word, he always would. Until his last breath.

You shook your head, gentling cooing at him, "This is a time for celebration my love, not for doubt. You've earned this."

He hadn't. And he doubted you'd ever be able to convince him he had. But he'd still take it. Gladly.

"I love you," Astarion murmured, helpless to say anything else. He pressed his lips against yours, the gravity of his new life just starting to settle in his mind.

He was free, as free as he could ever hope for. You had achieved what Cazador could not, all without a hint of malice or horrifying sacrifice. But through kindness, love, and perseverance. You had already freed him once from his own mental shackles, his last remaining ties to the tyrant that made him.

And now you've done it again, saving him from at least a portion of the taint on his soul.

It was beautiful, wonderful, and Astarion would never waste a moment of it.

[willowpains]

introducing…

latina actress reader!

mexican to be exact, born and raised. sings and dances, but has decided to focus all her efforts into acting and breaking through Hollywood, fighting closed doors due to her nationality, always with a good attitude and ready to work her ass off to achieve her dreams to be the next it girl and big thing around the world.

she’s…

big hearted. soft. sensitive. hardworking. multilingual. singer. dancer. warm. family girl. fangirl. super friendly. the one that makes everyone feel included. a listener and big yapper around the people she trusts. a bit shy at first. loves a good party. cinephile. tequila lover.

loves…

going out with her friends and fellow costars. traveling back home whenever she can. the beach. taking photos of everyone and everything. speaking spanish in front of people that don’t understand. doing karaoke. her dog. reggaeton. doing tiktok dances. reading romance and fantasy. going to the movies at night. posting photo dumps on instagram. doing pranks. her mexican food. makeup. her alone time.

can’t stand…

horror movies. people that don’t love animals. over bearing and noisy paparazzi and press. liars. smoking and cigarettes. loud chewing. small spaces. rats. not wearing perfume. losing her favorite lip gloss. online spoilers. missing out on stuff. people talking on the movie theater.

wikipedia…

-her first big role outside of her country was as a pogue, with a trope of slow burn enemies to lovers with Drew Starkey’s character, and member of the main friend group in the highly acclaimed Netflix series Outer Banks, still ongoing now with a just released season 4.

-she was casted and is part of the wrapped up and upcoming movie: Wake Up Dead Man, sequel to the famous murder mystery movie Knives Out.

-uploads covers and snippets of originals songs on her YouTube channel, as well as see social media accounts such as TikTok and Instagram.

-had a big role besides actor Jacob Elordi in last years hit project Saltburn, making it one of her biggest movies in her repertoire to this day.

-she was seen attending a Niall Horan concert previously in the year, and was brought up on stage by the artist to sing a duet, as she claimed one of her favorite songs, “You could start a cult” during the show.

-she is rumored to take part in the role of Susan Pevensie in upcoming Narnia Series directed by Greta Gerwig, nothing has been confirmed yet but both the actress and the director have been hinting at it in different interviews and events.

loading more…🎥🎞️🎬🍿

***

I am so freaking excited about this concept that I came up with! I had been wanting to continue writing for drew and this idea just landed on my lap didn’t it? *wink wink*

I have so many plans for this universe with mexican/latina actress reader, from moodboards, blurbs, headcanons, specific scenarios, sooooo so much! if you have any questions, things you wanna request or know about reader please feel free to ask or let me know, you’ll be feeding into my motivation to write more about her and drew and the rest of the obx cast<3

credits and inspiration to all the writers out here that come up with these concepts of ___ reader! if ate up most of them and I think they’re creative and amazing af

about time my writer personality came back, and as always, English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any grammar or writing errors there may be!

stay tuned👀

[fragiledewdrop]

WHERE NOW THE HORSE AND THE RIDER-Aka how I just had a Tolkien related freak out on the train

I can't believe what just happened to me. As in, it's such a weird chain of events that it has left me a little dizzy.

I was reading "Les Nourritures Terrestres" by Gide, and I got to a point he cites parts of a poem which I liked very much. The notes informed me that it's a French translation of "an 8th century saxon elegy called 'The Wanderer' "

That intrigued me, and, being on a train with a lot of time to pass (plus being a little tired of reading in French), I took out my phone and searched for the poem.

I found it here. It's the lament of a warrior in exile who has lost his lord and mourns the joy and glory of a world that has now disappeared. I was enjoying it a lot.

And then I got to this point:

And my mouth actually dropped open, because what?

Are you telling me that the Lament for the Rohirrim, one of my favourite poems in LOTR, which I learnt by heart at 13 and later took care to learn in the original English, which I sing when I do the dishes and which routinely makes me cry, is Tolkien's translation of an 8th century Saxon elegy?

Well, the notes at the end of the page confirmed it:

"Tolkien's rendition is hard to resist" I bet it is. I love that professional philologists add notes to their work saying "yeah, by the way, this bit here? It's in your favourite fantasy novel, and I am kinda jealous of how well it was translated, but it's Tolkien, the man spoke Old English, what can you do? Carry on, xoxo"

I mean, I had gathered that the Tolkien poem played on themes used in medieval literature, but I had no idea it was based on an actual, specific text. That makes it a hundred times cooler!

Maybe it's common knowledge, but it was a delicious tidbit of good news to me. Especially since I wasn't expecting it in the least, so I was blindsided by it.

Cherry on top? I had ignored the Old English text, since I don't understand it, but at the end I gave it a cursory read , and the line "Alas for the splendor of the prince"? "Eala þeodnes þrym!"

Now, I have never studied Old English, but I know roughly how to pronounce it (what kind of Silmarillion fan would I be if I didn’t recognize the thorn?). þeodnes has to be where "Theoden" comes from, right?

Apparently yes. I googled the "Lament for the Rohirrim", and Tolkien Gathaway has a nice little parapraph in which they explain all this. I don't know why I had never read it before, but it was a lot more fun learning it as an unexpected detour from my French practice, not gonna lie.

Bottom line: Tolkien was a both a nerd and a genius and continues to make my life brighter, and this is one of those moments in which I am very happy I have spent years of my life learning languages.

Thanks for coming to my impromptu TedTalk.

[schizosupport]

Do you know of any books that show psychotic characters in a positive light?

Feeling a bit alone and want to read stuff that doesn’t treat my illness like it’s something subhumans have.

I’ll read anything. Realistic fiction, fantasy, sci-fi, novels, short stories, comic books, etc.

Hey there! I have not been reading as much as I want to for a very long time, so I haven't read most of these myself, but here are some I've come across.

"Challenger Deep" by Neal Shusterman is the only one on this list that I've actually read. It follows a young guy with developing schizophrenia before and during his first hospitalization. I personally quite liked it. The author has a schizophrenic son who allegedly helped him a lot with the book.

"Freaks like us" by Susan Vaught is a book that I started reading, but had to stop because it was stressful. It's a thriller/mystery where the main character is a teenager with schizophrenia. When his best friend goes missing he becomes a suspect primarily due to ableism and he tries to help solve the case. I've been assured by others that it does have a happy ending, if somewhat bittersweet.

"The book of Form and Emptiness" by Ruth Ozeki follows a young teenager who is having psychotic symptoms after the death of his father, and some other mentally struggling characters as they support one another. Judging from what I've read about it, this book is at least somewhat critical of psychiatry and I believe that it may be a theme that the main character is overmedicated, with questions about what's normal and what's abnormal, etc. I haven't read it but it sounds interesting to me.

There's also a fantasy science series called "The locked Tomb", where the second book is "Harrow the Ninth" where the main character has been confirmed by the author to be dealing with schizophrenia (though this concept isn't recognized in the same manner in the world the story takes place in). It's a sequel to a book called Gideon the Ninth, the main character of the second book is schizophrenic, and they may also have a role in the first book without being the main character. (Edited with a correction from the comments)

"I never promised you a Rose Garden" is a classic from 1977 by Joanne Greenberg (pen name Hannah Green). It is a semi-autobiographical account of a teenage girl's three-year battle with schizophrenia. "Deborah Blau, bright and artistically talented, has created a world, the Kingdom of Yr, as a form of defense from a confusing, frightening reality. " The story takes place in a mental hospital in the 1950s so without having read it, I imagine it might involve some disturbing stuff.

If anyone knows of others, or can speak for or against the books that I have mentioned, please don't hesitate to chime in!

[ovaryacted]

FEELING THE VIBE

PAIRING: ID!Leon x fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS: After taking some inspiration from a magazine's sex story column, you and your boyfriend indulge in reenacting one of your new fantasies.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: 18+/MDNI. NSFW. Porn without plot. Oral (fem receiving). Body Worship. Overstimulation. Sex Toys. Sensory Depravation: Bondage & Blindfolding. Squirting. Multiple Orgasms. Dirty Talk. Praise. Domestication themes. Established relationship. Just Leon being a loving horny freak.

WC: 4.9k

NOTES: Finally after a little break, I have returned. This is the 3rd installment of my Kinktober (yes it's November I know), and it took a while for me to write this, but it's done. I was inspired by an erotic audio I heard a while back so I took a jab at it and made it my own. Sorry if it is a bit long, I tried to condense it but you can only fit so many words when writing out multiple orgasms. Anyway, you know the drill, I hope you like it, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

《 Kinktober Masterlist 2023 ⟡ Main Masterlist 》

“I want to try something”

Your voice cut through the comforting silence of your living room, body shifting on the couch from where you sat. As your head remained pressed against soft cotton and muscle, your lover tilted his face to look down towards you.

“Don’t know if I should be excited or scared”, that got Leon a playful slap on the shoulder and a roll of your eyes, making him chuckle in the process.

“Lay it on me then sweetheart. What’s on your mind?”, he watched as you nervously bit your lip, sitting up to face him directly.

“Do you remember that magazine from a week ago? The one you snatched from me?”, you told him, and his mind flashed back to the faint memory of the interaction.

-

“And what’s this?”, Leon only grinned as he took the Cosmopolitan magazine from your hands after you flipped to the next page. He moved towards the kitchen, laughing as you chased him to get your precious publication back.

“Ooooo, top 10 sex stories hmm? So this is what you’ve been reading?”

“Leon quit playing! Give it back!”, you tried to snatch it from him but you knew it was futile. The moment his eyes scanned the page you were on, you could tell you lost the battle. 

“Me and my husband have been together for 6 years now and decided to spice things up in the bedroom. We did some research on things we could try and found out about sensory deprivation and overstimulation. That was something a bit trendy and I was intrigued, and I could speak for a few people who like me read Cosmopolitan for sex help so I decided to do some research. How kinky…”, you wanted to wipe the smirk clean off his face as he read the story you were skimming through. He took a second to look at you, and then back to the page as he continued reading it in his signature sarcastic tone.

“Over the weekend, after some wine we got in the mood and we tried out a few things. He tied me to the bed and blindfolded me while using one of my toys on me, which was all so new to us. I’ve never felt anything like that before, didn’t even know it was possible for me to cum so many times. I loved it, and my husband loved it probably a little too much because now he’s borderline obsessed with me. Thank you for all the work you do with your sex tips, you just made my marriage more fun, closing the orgasm gap one couple at a time. Much love!”, Leon finished reading the page, snickering when you finally grabbed it from him. “Wasn’t that something. You really read stuff like that?”

“No, I don’t. It just popped up on the page alright…”, your blush couldn’t be missed no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, and Leon only wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head.

“If you wanted to try something new, all you had to do was tell me you know? It sounds like fun”, he teased at the suggestion, not making a big deal out of the idea of trying new things in the bedroom, but you knew he had your best interests in mind.

“You mean that?”, embarrassment aside, you looked at him, blue eyes full of sincerity. “I was just curious, and I was nervous to mention it I don’t know…”

“You don’t have to be nervous about anything, I’m not one to judge your fantasies anyway. You have them, I have them, everyone does. Whatever you want to do, no matter how crazy it seems, you tell me. I just want to make you happy”, Leon reassured you once more, holding your chin and giving you a soft kiss on the lips with a smile. “So go read more of your sex magazine, I’m going to start cooking”

“It is not just a sex magazine you know”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say”

-

“The one with the sex stories? Yeah, why?”, his voice brought you to the present once more, back to where you both sat on the couch.

“That one story you read out loud, I want to try that”, you felt your cheeks get warm at the change in topic. The gears in Leon’s head started to turn, his mind catching up to understand what you meant.

“Oh…oh. Like right now?”, he watched as you moved closer to him, your hands going from his chest to caress the hair at the back of his neck.

“Yes, right now. I’m bored, and I want you to entertain me. Please?”, your face hovered over his, the ends of your noises touching lightly.

“Well when you ask so nicely, how could I say no to you”, he gave you exactly what you wanted and kissed you. His hands were on your hips, bringing you towards his lap and wrapping your legs around his body.

With ease, he lifted you from the couch, smiling against your lips as you released a giggle. His fingers dug into the bottom of your thighs, walking towards your shared bedroom and plopping you onto the mattress. He couldn’t help himself as he stole more kisses from you, the growing stubble on his chin rubbing against your face. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, wanting to bring him closer to you if that were possible.

Pulling away from you, he grew more handsy, taking off your loungewear and keeping your underwear on while you removed his shirt in the process, his sweats hanging low on his hips. No matter how many times you got him like this, you never got tired of the view.

“You know, ever since I read that little column I did some shopping”, Leon said, moving away from you to dig through the closet for something. You sat up on your elbows, observing him walk back with a blindfold and a pair of fuzzy-lined handcuffs. Your eyebrows raised at him, not knowing what to expect but it certainly wasn’t this.

“Did you buy this stuff?”, you chuckled nervously, making Leon laugh with you.

“I mean yeah, I wanted to be prepared”, you almost snorted at the thought of your boyfriend being so attentive he did his own research to fulfill your experiences. If only you knew the lengths he went to type in BDSM toys on his phone when you weren’t paying attention.

“You’re such a dork”, you shook your head, bringing him back down to kiss him again in appreciation. “But it’s cute”

“I try to be. You still want to try this?”, he eyed your face carefully, making sure there weren’t any doubts in wanting to engage in your fantasy.

“Yeah, I do. Do you want to? This shouldn’t be just about me you know”

“Whatever gets you off gets me off, you know that. Now, enjoy my face one more time, you won’t be seeing it for a bit”

Leon brought the blindfold towards your eyes, tying it snugly behind your head as the soft material covered you, forcing you into a pit of darkness. It wasn’t uncomfortable, by any means, it was the complete opposite. The fact that you couldn’t see anything and had to rely on Leon’s voice was enough to make the hairs on your arms stand up.

“How’s that? Not uncomy or anything?”, you heard Leon speak, making you nod and release an airy exhale.

“Yeah, it’s good. I don’t see anything”

“Good. Arms up honey, I ain’t done yet”, that command sent a shiver down your spine, and you followed his directions instantly.

Laying down on the bed and lifting your arms above your head, you felt the bed shift as Leon got on his knees. The soft material of the lined handcuffs wrapped around your wrists, and you heard the soft click of them locking in place between the wooden bars of the headboard. They were tight enough that you wouldn’t be able to slip out of them, but comfortable so they didn’t leave marks on your skin.

Not that you would’ve minded that.

“How about now?”, your head moved towards the sound of Leon’s voice again, the added constraint of not being able to see or touch him made your heart rate spike.

“Still good, kinda sad I can’t touch or see you”, you pouted when you said that, getting another chuckle out of Leon. The sound alone warmed up your body, and your imagination began to run wild at what he had in store for you.

“I remember the magazine said they used toys, and I know you have a few. You still want me to use one on you?”, the prospect of Leon using whatever you had tucked away in your bedside drawer made your core ache.

“Yeah, you can use one”, your voice got the slightest bit more breathless, and you could swear you envisioned him smiling. 

“I won’t tell you which one I use, but I’ll leave it up to you to figure it out”

You heard shuffling towards your left and the sound of a drawer opening, blushing as Leon looked at your cluster of toys. He wasn’t an idiot, knowing full well you had to handle your own needs when he was gone for days to weeks at a time on missions or being held up in D.C. But seeing them all up close, some that he’s personally gotten for you, left him almost stunned at your ever-growing collection.

“Eennie…meenie…miny…moe”, Leon counted off, shaking your head in disbelief at how he still managed to find the time to be humorous. You felt the mattress dip again, signaling that he was back on the bed, at least that was how you imagined it anyway.

Rough fingertips skimmed over your bare thigh, followed by you taking a shaky breath at the touch. It wasn’t unexpected, but you felt your other senses going into overdrive with your loss of sight. Leon’s fingers moved from grazing your thigh, up your lower stomach and towards your chest. He skated across one of your nipples, making you gasp out and crave more with the slightest arch of your back.

“Somebody’s sensitive”

“Shut up and quit teasing”, your eyebrows furrowed in irritation at him, growing impatient at how he was toying with you.

“Feisty too. Do you really want to say that when you’re like this? You asked me to do this baby”, he was mocking you now, finding enjoyment in your predicament.

You didn’t have a second to complain more when Leon’s lips were on yours again, groaning in his mouth as he forced it open with his own. The tip of his tongue lined your bottom lip, and you happily opened up so he could slip it inside.

Your tongue caressed his, submitting to the attention while his hands went to squeeze at your breasts. He groped and kneaded, his thumb and pointer finger pinching your nipples and swallowing the moans you made. Drawing away from you, he watched how you chased his lips and your wrists yanked on the handcuffs in an attempt to reach out to him.

“You look so pretty like this, all tied up for me to play with”, your ears perked up at the way Leon’s voice dropped an octave, knowing that he was getting into it as much as you were.

His lips were on your neck, kissing wherever he could while he kept your hips pinned to the bed with one hand. You felt his stubble rubbing against you as he continued on his path, sucking at your collarbone and leaving faint marks for you to cover with concealer the next morning. Moving towards your left breast, he popped your neglected nipple in his mouth. You cursed loudly at the feel, pulling on the handcuffs again as you desired to run your fingers through his hair knowing you couldn’t.

Leon hummed against your skin, tongue lavishing the hardened nub and touching the other absentmindedly. His head moved to suck at the other nipple, giving it the same attention and mouthing at it loudly so you could hear his suckling. Giving you one harsh bite on your chest he blew on the wet skin, your thighs twitching as he did.

More wet kisses followed in between the valley of your breasts, down to your lower stomach, and over your navel. His mouth trailed over the waistband of your panties, dragging down one side of it until your bare hip was shown to him, nipping at the skin. You whimpered under him when he slipped the offending material down your legs and flung it to God knows where. Your legs parted for him instinctively, much to Leon’s enjoyment.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you want. Let me have my fun”, his lips ghosted your right thigh, starting from the inner crease of your hip and down to the side of your knee. He didn’t stop his kissing, shifting down to your ankle before going up on the other leg. Your breathing was labored by the time he reached your other hip, fingers curling around your thigh to spread you open for him.

You yelped when he placed a soft kiss on your clit, hips shooting towards his direction for more despite being pinned down. He hummed at your reaction, kissing around where you needed him most but never giving you more than what he decided was enough.

“Leon please…”, you pulled at the handcuffs again, the sound of metal rattled against the headboard you were bound to.

“My needy baby”, he huffed a breath, tilting his head to give your twitching nub a good suck. You threw your head back at the sensation, wishing he would give you more but he moved away before you were satisfied. Already growing frustrated with him, you lamented when you couldn’t feel his face against you anymore, your head dropping on the pillow and pondering what he would do next.

That was when you heard it, the soft buzzing that began to fill the walls of your bedroom. He had one of your toys in his hands and the mystery of not knowing which one added to the appeal of this entire dynamic.

“Open up your legs for me, I’ll make you feel good”, Leon’s promise filtered through your ears, and you followed through, bending your legs at the knee and spreading them more.

The first sensation of the vibrator against your clit made you jerk up, taking a second to let your body adjust to it. Your mind was trying to focus on which one of your toys Leon picked out, and from the way he pressed it more onto your body, it had to be the dual vibrator you liked to use the most for its two attachments. Smartass.

You pushed your hips out towards the toy, chasing the feeling as it filled your body with pleasure. Softly humming at the consistent pattern Leon chose, he let you grind towards him for more. Although you couldn’t see him, you knew he was watching you, taking in the way you shuddered when he angled the smaller tip just the way you liked.

“That feel good?”, you nodded, beginning to feel the vibrations take over your body slowly.

“Let me take it up a notch”

Your lower stomach did flips when Leon increased the intensity of the toy, your back curving off the bed with a cry. The sounds of the vibrator grew louder, paired with the lewd wetness that got worse as it started to seep out of you. Strong hands wrapped around your thigh again, keeping you spread open as you fought the urge to close them from the added onslaught on your body.

The prior teasing left you worked up the moment you hit the mattress, and you could feel your first orgasm bubbling in your gut. Leon saw it too, pressing the toy harder on your clit and moving it up and down against the wet skin, mimicking the way his tongue would stroke you. He leaned down to kiss your cheek, your face turning in hopes of getting a kiss but he opted out to whisper in your ear instead.

“Come on baby, I know you’re close. Give it to me. Be a good girl and cum for me”

It was an easy request, the rubberband of tension snapping harshly as your first release washed over you. You moaned loudly, pulling against the handcuffs again and digging your nails into your palm. Leon praised you along the way, talking you through it to make up for your loss of sight. You half expected him to take the wand off your body and leave it at that, but he didn’t stop. Another pathetic whine slipped out of you, realizing he wasn’t going to give you a break and planned on pushing you to the limit.

“That’s one. You can give me another right?”, it was a question of reassurance, but you couldn’t tell him to stop even if you wanted to. 

The waves of pleasure lingered in your body and the vibrations continued, your breath hitching as you didn’t get a moment to breathe. Cumming more than once wasn’t new to your sex life, hell it became essential once you and Leon met and started messing around. But having no pause in what was being done to you was fairly new, and you started to think you bit off more than you could chew when asking for this.

But this was what you signed up for, and you were going to enjoy every second of it.

“F-Fuck, yeah. Just please, please…”, you wantonly replied to him, giving him full control to do whatever he wanted, so long as it left you satisfied.

Leon flicked his wrist then, repositioning the other end of the vibrating toy against your entrance and nudging your outer lips. You clenched around nothing, yearning for the emptiness to be filled with something, anything you could get.

“Yeah, I know your pretty pussy wants to be filled up. I’ll give you what you need”, Leon’s voice grew husky, biting his lower lip and feeling his cock throb in his sweatpants.

He fulfilled his promise, slowly inserting the second bulbous silicone tip into your body. You tugged at the handcuffs harshly, a loud sob falling from your lips at how your drooling canal wrapped around the toy snugly. It was as if your entire body was vibrating now, not being able to escape the dual sensation of your clit and g-spot being stimulated at the same time. 

“That’s it sweetheart, that’s it”, Leon was enjoying this too much, maintaining the same level of intensity with the toy and starting to thrust it at an even tempo.

You felt hot to the touch, getting closer to elation with every electric beat that filled your limbs. Loud moaning was exchanged for choked breaths, your head lolling to one side of the pillow and trying to stay grounded. The familiar coil wrapped tighter around you, bucking your hips towards Leon’s hands as if it were instinct. You whimpered again, the rhythm of the toy’s pulsing getting stronger with a single press of a button.

“Shit, shit, L-Leon please…”, you started to get scared at the intensity of your second release, the speed of how it crept up on you taking you off guard. 

“I know baby, I know. Cum for me again, I know you can”, he encouraged you once more, upping the voltage on the toy to the max setting and watching hungrily at your squirming figure.

One more drive inside you was all it took for you to seize up, a noisy wail emitting from your throat as you came around the toy. Your climax was damn near violent, liquid fire filling your gut and spilling out underneath you. Your mind reached a state of nirvana you never touched before, ears ringing and an all-consuming shock rippling from your feet up to the top of your head. You were so out of it you couldn’t feel the way your fluids drenched the sheets below, instead leaving it to Leon to watch it all happen.

The only thing keeping you grounded to the mattress was a large hand on your hip, squeezing in an attempt to soothe your trembling thighs. You felt like you were floating, intense relief paired with a desperate need for more you couldn’t explain. On the next inhale, the toy was turned off and carefully pulled out of you, leaving your hole dripping and convulsing.

“I didn’t know you could do that”, you heard Leon say again, struggling to slow your heartbeat that pounded in your chest.

“What do you mean?”, you asked quizzically, your eyesight growing blurry when the blindfold was taken off your head. Your pupils focused on the blonde’s face, noticing how he looked at you in awe.

“You just squirted all over the bed”, you felt your cheeks turn red, embarrassed as you felt the way your entire lower half went numb, the ghost of the vibrations still running over you. He didn’t give you the chance to wallow in your shame, his voice running through the reeling mess of your mind.

“Want to watch you do it again”, he purred at you with a grin, moving down your body and lifting your legs onto his shoulders. 

Leon’s head was in between your legs, lapping away at your folds and groaning at the sweetness of you filling his tongue. He was messy with it, audibly sucking everything you had to give and all you could do was take it. His warm tongue flicked at your oversensitive clit, having to dig your face into your forearm to stop yourself from shouting. The handcuffs clinked above you from where you were stuck to the headboard, your nails leaving indents in your skin.

“Leon I c-can’t. It’s too much”, you mewled when Leon gave you a harsher suck, his fingers teasing your pussy, still hot and wanting more despite your words.

“You can give me another one, don’t play with me”, he growled at you, slipping two thick fingers inside you and curling against that spot tucked at the roof of your body.

“Your needy cunt isn’t telling me no, and I’m not stopping until you squirt for me again. I know you can”, he marveled at the lack of resistance as he burrowed his fingers deep inside you, going back to lick at your clit.

He was greedy in the way he feasted on you, licking at you in precise circles as the tips of his fingers jabbed at your g-spot consistently. Every sound that came out of your mouth was broken, whining every time he drew his digits out just to push back into you. Slyly, he switched techniques, curling his fingers against the textured spot inside you and sucking at your clit in pulses, pressing a hand against your lower stomach.

The pit of flames was lit again, static filling your body and your sight becoming bleary with tears. You couldn’t stop the internal carnal heat from growing, the same sharp feeling from your last release being renewed with every pump of Leon’s fingers. It was too much too quickly, your face growing flushed and losing sense of reality the closer you got to the edge.

“Please, Leon I-”, you didn’t even know what you were begging for anymore, needing both more and less at the same time and not knowing which one you preferred.

“Soak my fucking face baby. Do it so I can fuck you. C’mon, give it to me, I need it”

His words were the last nails in the coffin, your face twisting in a silent scream of pure bliss. You felt like you were being engulfed in flames as your third release in 15 minutes swallowed you whole, an out-of-body experience that didn’t seem to stop. It was as if you were tumbling over a high that never crashed, not knowing where the first climax ended or the next one began. All the energy you had left was sucked completely out of you quite literally, your eardrums rang and your legs wouldn’t stop quivering against the bed. 

Leon’s head appeared from between your legs with the widest grin you had ever seen on him. His lips were plump, and the stubble that adorned his jaw was covered in your wetness. You were too dazed to pay close attention to the way he licked at his lips, chasing the remaining flavor of you.

“You want a taste too?”, he said, grabbing your jaw and kissing you sloppily. He made sure to let your mouth fill with the tanginess that he familiarly recognized as your essence, the both of you panting as your tongues meshed together.

“Let me fuck you, please”, Leon almost begged for it, sweats halfway down his thighs and his cock already positioned against you. Weakly, you nodded, not even bothering to lift your head when he slid deep inside you so smoothly.

“Fuuckkk, you’re soaked, so goddamn warm”, he was mumbling under his breath, chasing his own pleasure and using your body for it. You were more than willing, not being able to do much of anything but just take it.

Leon didn’t hold back in the slightest, pounding into your body while your hands remained above your head. His hands held on to your thighs, hips smacking into yours harshly with every shove of his dick inside you. Your eyes were rolling to the back of your head, body growing limp, and the pleasure evolved as you tipped between the edge of overstimulation and pain. You desperately wanted to touch him, to feel him pressed against you, but you could only take what was given to you.

Lightbulbs went off in Leon’s head, grabbing the tossed toy from the side of the bed and turning it back on. He pressed it against your clit once more, a rough grumble coming from deep within his chest as he felt the vibrations filling his body. You cried out, the handcuffs rattling above your head as your body felt like it was being pushed beyond what you thought was possible. Tears ran down your flushed cheeks, Leon not giving you a moment to adjust and losing himself in his insurgency to feel you cum around him.

“I can’t, I c-can’t”, you were begging for mercy, knowing full well Leon wouldn’t give it to you until you fell over the edge one more time.

“One more. Give me one more sweetheart, and I’ll stop. Need to feel you cum for me one more time, I got you baby, I got you”, he was like a man possessed, fucking you in a reckless frenzy as you tightened around him.

You didn’t know if you had it in you to cum again, but Leon was persistent as always. He upped the speed on the vibrator, pressing it harder against your oversensitive nub up and down like he did before. It was too extreme, making you choke on air and your throat grow raw from the sounds that will end up giving you a noise complaint. 

The next moment your nerves short-circuited and your mind went blank, your fourth climax pummeling through you so aggressively you couldn’t contain the scream that came out of you. It was the strongest orgasm you’ve ever had in your life, reaching the point of pain from the oversensitivity, and your lower stomach cramped from the force of it. You didn’t hear Leon when he praised you again, his voice sounding distant and far away as black spots filled your vision.

He filled your cunt with his hot seed right after, bottoming inside you until he couldn’t get any deeper. Turning the toy off completely and reaching up to undo the handcuffs, he was gentle in touching you again. A part of him was ready to beg for forgiveness, for pushing you too hard and getting carried away. But those thoughts dispelled from his mind when your arms weakly wrapped around his shoulders, silently relieved you didn’t black out on him.

“I don’t think I can move”, your voice cracked when you talked, stray tears lining your eyes and he wiped at your cheeks. You were trembling underneath him, your legs quaked despite not being able to move them. Your body felt heavy, like it was sinking into the mattress, but you’ve never experienced such profound pleasure it left you immobilized.

“Sorry about that. You did so good for me, so damn good. Did you like that?”, he whispered into your neck, kissing your skin as you nodded, both starting to come down from your respective highs.

He hadn’t slipped out yet, just letting the both of you bask in the afterglow of this new experience. Had he known he could make you feel this good, he would’ve tried this a long time ago.

“We should do this again”

“Oh we are. I gotta break my record of making you cum four times”, you hit him on the shoulder again, aware that his words were half serious. Meanwhile, he was already plotting in his head how he could make you reach numbers five and six.

“So does this mean you’re going to keep doing your research on my sex stories?”, he lifted his head to look at you, a smirk already on his face.

“That depends. Which ones do you want to try next?”

©️ ovaryacted 2023. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

taglist: @roseglazedlens @kennedyswhore @httpsvix @daydreamrot @dmitriene @scar-crossedlvrs @valsthea

[kortsitron]

Corruption

✮ PARING Hobie Brown × Trans Male! Reader

✮ WARNINGS/TAGS reader realizes he's trans, pre-transition reader, religious themes, christianity, fluff, angst, supportive! hobie, reader is referred to as a girl/daughter in some moments, hobie and reader are both young adults, gender dysphoria, toxic parents, abuse, transphobia, cursing, reader is referred by she/her by his parents, happy ending

✮ SUMMARY A stranger comes to your town and helps you realize who you are

✮ A/N  If you know me, you probably know my opinion on Christianity and religion in general, but I won't lie, I kinda like the religious themes. Especially when it's about being taken out of it and realizing that the world has so much to offer once you leave it. I guess it's my type of thing since I have been raised as a catholic little ‘girl’ and now I hate religion with pure passion after having it shown down my throat for years when I was younger. One more thing, if you're not comfortable, please do not read this. I am aware there are people who can be triggered by any of the things mentioned in the warnings/tags. If you decide to read this, I hope you're going to enjoy it! <3

In a way inspired by confessions by @eyesxxyou

ao3 masterlist requests

You were such a perfect girl in everyone's eyes. Always so nice and polite, obedient towards your parents, in church every Sunday. You were so feminine, so lovely. Always wore those pretty dresses and skirts of yours, along with the necklace with virgin Mary on your pretty neck. And your gorgeous long hair. You were a perfection to everyone around you.

But you didn't feel perfect in the slightest.

You felt so wrong for some reason you couldn't quite name. Your body felt like a cage you couldn't get out of and you didn't know why. All you knew was that you wanted to cut your hair, hide your body under some baggy clothing and yell at everyone who called you a girl. But obviously you couldn't do that, no matter how much you wanted to. You didn't want people to look at you weirdly, to call you a freak. 

So you decided to stay quiet, knowing that nothing was going to change because you were too scared to do it on your own. Scared of judgment and scared of being abandoned. 

All you did was pray that your sinful fantasies would simply go away. But instead of them going away, something else happened. Like the prayers from the depth of your heart have been heard and finally answered.

You saw him after the Sunday mass, as you were standing next to your mother while she was talking with someone else. He was nothing like you've ever seen before. Those piercing glistening in the sunlight just like the spikes on his vest. The distressed pants with patches and chains. And those heavy boots. He was the definition of perfection, definitely not to those around you, but for you without a doubt.

You have caught eye contact with that beautiful stranger. His stunning brown eyes stared into yours as he smirked at you. He probably thought you were just a pretty girl, you assumed. After all, why would he think differently?

“Do not look at him.” Your mother scolded you, grabbing you by your shoulder and turning you to face her. You could see the disgust on her face. You’ve never seen her with that kind of grimace on her face. “I do not want to see you near him. I can already tell he's no good.”

She didn't say it, but you could already tell she saw him as the embodiment of everything that was sinful. And the last thing she wanted was her precious daughter to stray from God's path.

You glanced at the punk for the last time before your mother said that you were going home. He still watched you. He wasn't sure what it was about you that made him want to get to know you. But something inside him told him that you needed him.

Since then you saw him around the town, but you didn't dare to come close to him. You felt a rush of excitement in your stomach every time you saw him, saw that smirk of his. You didn't have anyone who excited you the way he did. But he indeed did excite you, but you couldn't even talk to him, being scared your parents might yell at you.

Everything changed when you were peacefully reading the bible on the bench next to the church. It was so warm and sunny, so you picked a spot under a tree. Your hair was made into a long braid that was getting more loose without you noticing. 

You then heard someone sit next to you. You looked up from the bible to see him. That beautiful punk, smirking at you shamelessly. He looked even better up close. 

“Hello, luv. I'm Hobie.” His voice was lower than you thought it would be. But it sounded so good, so smooth you could almost melt. His eyes looked from your face to the bible you held your hand, then back to your face. You started wondering what was on his mind. “What's your name, hmm?”

You bashfully told him your name. You weren't sure how to act. Was he expecting you to pretend to be this perfect girl everyone perceived you as? Or maybe he was finally someone that could let you be yourself? Either way, you were scared to find out.

He chuckled at your bashful reaction. Your cheeks got pink so quickly. You were just so adorable. And so… innocent. But you had a feeling he could see right through you. See that all of this was just a facade and under all of it, there was a real you, trying to get to the surface. Trying to be free.

“Have you ever listened to punk rock?” Hobie asked out of nowhere. You blinked. You? Listening to loud, unapologetic music? You could never do that. At least not without worrying about being judged.

Finally you shook your head and his smirk widened. “Darlin’, we have to change that immediately.” He saw you shake your head even more. 

You heard about punk rock. The unapologetic and loud music for brutal men who have abandoned God's ways and all the rules. At least that's what you have been told by your mother. “They are good for nothing but corrupting the minds of pretty girls like you. And I cannot let that happen.” She told you and you wondered if Hobie was that type of punk. The type to ruin you and corrupt you.

“I-I can't. I am not allowed to listen to that kind of music.” You looked down at the bible in your hands, you couldn't look Hobie in the eyes. You expected him to think you were weird for not being allowed to listen to what you wanted. But all you wanted was to avoid conflict.

Hobie's face went from confusion to smirk again. “Oh please. I can see that there's a little rebel hidden behind those pretty innocent eyes.” So he indeed could right through you.

You nervously played with your hair, wanting to both agree and refuse. And in a quick moment, your beautiful braid was untied. “Oh no.” You watched your hairband fall onto the grass. Hobie noticed it too. He moved and grabbed it, quickly cleaning it off from all the dirt. “Allow me.” He spoke so softly. You weren't sure if you should allow him to touch you in any way, but he just wanted to help you tie your hair, right? 

You decided not to overthink it, sitting with your back facing him, so he could tie your hair. You didn't expect it, but he was so gentle with your hair. No harsh hair pulling. His fingers parted your hand so nicely before he began to braid it. You almost melted.

And soon, you had your pretty braid again. Not as perfect as you could have done it, but it was still really nice. “Thank you so much, Hobie.” You said quietly before excusing yourself and saying you had to go. His eyes softened, he only nodded, asking if he could talk to you again. “I hate to say it, but I can't be seen with you.” 

Hobie sighed, his fingertip tapped at his lip ring, he seemed lost in thoughts. “And if we meet in secret?” He looked down at you, you were so short compared to him. “You can come over to my place, no one will know you were with me and I could show you some of my world.” He spoke so proudly when he mentioned introducing you to his world. And even though you technically shouldn't be meeting him, you were more than curious. So you agreed at last.

Obviously, someone saw you with Hobie. Your parents weren't proud of you for talking to him. You had no other choice than to lie, just like you did when it came to who you really felt about yourself. 

Yes, I like this dress. 

Yes, I like those shoes.

Yes, my hair is so pretty when it's so long.

Yes, I am a girl.

You had to lie, even though you wish you didn't have to. But you hoped that at the end of the day, when you were praying before going to sleep, God would forgive you for lying to everyone around you. He would understand, right?

So, as always, you lied, telling your parents that Hobie asked for some help because he was a newcomer and didn't know the town very well. Your parents weren't happy you talked to him, but knew, or at least believed, you were too good and polite to refuse to help him. They didn't think twice about it, allowing you to go to your room. They didn't mention Hobie braiding your hair, so you just assumed they didn't know about it, so you decided not to mention it either. It was better to keep your mouth shut.

You were careful when the day of visiting Hobie came. You told your parents that you went to study the bible at your friend's house. They didn't suspect a thing. You made sure no one could see you as you made your way to Hobie's apartment. And soon enough, you were in front of the door of his apartment.

You knocked lightly, heard the sound of locks being unlocked and then the door finally opened. You saw Hobie and he looked at you with that same softness like the last time. But this time he rubbed one eye with a cotton pad. You had a look of confusion on your face when you saw that.

“Come in, luv.” He moved so you could come inside, but instead of looking around, you watched him.

“Are you… wiping off your makeup?” The question sounded so stupid in your mind. Men weren't wearing makeup… right?

Hobie chuckled softly before going to the bathroom to wipe the makeup off more precisely in front of the mirror. You saw a few small eyeshadow palettes with bright eyeshadow in them, along with eyeliner and even two lipsticks. Even you didn't own that much makeup, you barely had any makeup since your parents didn't want you to paint your face like a whore.

“Yeah. I have been to a small party outside the town, so I wanted to look me best.” Hobie explained, before throwing a dirty pad into the bin. He then turned to you, it was obvious that you never saw a man wearing makeup before. You've never seen someone like him before. He allowed himself to check you out, you had a long skirt and a cute top that matched the skirt so well. “I am guessing you never wore the kind of makeup I usually go for?”

His hand grabbed one of the eyeshadow palettes and gave it to you, so you could see the inside better. You didn't think much and opened it. You hand one makeup palette and it was mostly light browns, one a little more glittery eyeshadow and two light pinks. But Hobie’s? It was so colorful. Red, blue, green and yellow. All of them so bright and pigmented.

He smiled when he saw your reaction, he felt excitement in his stomach. You looked stunned. “Why don't I finally show you that punk rock?” He left the bathroom and you followed him. His apartment was a little messy. Posters on every wall, some chokers and other jewelry scattered in some places and some clothes laying around. But his room was even better. It was so… him. You could see the room scream Hobie. Even more posters, a guitar. It might have been a little messy, but it had so much character.

Hobie moved to the old cd player and in the matter of seconds, the loud music played. Black Flag on full volume. At first you weren't sure what to think, but soon, you started loving it. You stopped caring about anything when the music played, banging your head to the rhythm. At first a little shyly, but then you were more confident about it, not caring if you were going to mess up your hair. You looked so happy, you felt so happy. It has been since you felt like that.

Even since Hobie came here, he finally saw your smile, the real and sincere smile on that face of yours. But he saw it falter when Can't Decide by the Black Flag started playing.

Sun's coming up and I can't decide

To spill my emotions or keep them inside

Go for a drive, go to the store

I'm looking for something that can't be bought there

I always wear a smile

Because anything but a smile would make me have to explain

And they wouldn't understand anyway

And they wouldn't understand anyway

I conceal my feelings so I won't have to explain

What I can't explain anyway

It hit so close to home, you almost started sobbing. Hobie saw it immediately and turned the music off. He sat next to you, one arm around you while he rubbed your arm with the other to comfort you. He barely knew you, but he was so concerned about your well being already. “What happened, dove?” He asked so quietly, almost as if he was scared he might make you start crying just by asking.

But you weren't ready to admit what has been going inside your head for months. And he could see that so well. A few tears went down your cheeks so you asked for a tissue. You smudged your makeup a bit, but luckily Hobie was able to fix it with the only brown palette he owned, the one had forgotten about since he never used it.

You gathered your things and apologized. “Don't apologize, luv. Just know you can come and talk about what's going on in that pretty head of yours.” You only nodded before leaving. 

Your parents weren't home by the time you came back, they were probably in the neighbor's house, talking and eating how they did once in a while. Probably praising you how good and obedient you were, and how they were happy to have a daughter like you.

And after that situation at Hobie's place, it became harder to pretend. It became hard not to cry when you were called a perfect daughter, pretty girl and beautiful woman. You couldn't wait any longer, you had to talk with someone about it. And the only person who would not judge you was Hobie. 

It has been a while since you talked to him. But you came back, trembling, looking like you were about to start crying at any given moment. Hobie didn't think twice, he just let you in, sat down on the floor while he seated you on his bed. His calloused hands found yours and he caressed them gently in order to comfort you.

And finally, after all this time, you opened up about what has been on your mind for all those months. You explained how you felt trapped in your own body, how you hated being seen as a girl and how much it hurt when you were called and seen as one. How much you just wanted to be yourself.

Hobie's eyes softened, his hand touched your delicate cheek as his thumb stroked it. You didn't flinch away from his touch, instead you leaned into his hand, enjoying the way he touched you. “Darlin’, I think you might be trans.”

“I might be what?” Your nose was already stuffed from all that crying, making your voice sound funny. Hobie sighed before his lips curled into the soften of smiled. 

“Trans, hun.” You still looked confused, but he wasn't going to blame you. You've been living in a place where you were too scared to be yourself, you couldn't name your feelings even though you have been feeling them for months. It was obvious these people weren't talking about things like that, at least not in the way that would make you want to explore those feelings.

“It's uh, it's when your body doesn't match how you feel on the inside. Like you, you have been born as a woman, but you don't feel like one, don't you?” You shook your head, of course you didn't feel like a woman. Thinking about yourself as a woman didn't feel right. 

Hobie got an idea. “Why don't you go to the bathroom and take all of that off? I'll bring ya some clothes and then you'll tell me how you feel.” He helped you with making your way to the bathroom and closed the door after you. You took off the dress, standing in nothing more than your underwear. It felt a bit less suffocating to not be wearing that stupid dress.

Soon, you heard Hobie knock on the door. “I have some stuff I think might look good on you.” You covered yourself with the towel that was near you, not wanting for Hobie to see your body. But he didn't even peek in, instead he held the clothes for you, letting you grab them before he quickly closed the door behind him.

You looked down at the clothes. Some distressed jeans with patches and studded belt, white shirt with some graffiti, which you assumed was decorated by Hobie himself and even some hand warmers to match the outfit.

You had put on the outfit and left the bathroom, only to see Hobie waiting for you. His eyes sparkled when he saw you. And he could see it in your face that you felt better. He looked so excited for you.

But you still had that long braid. “Let me…” Hobie murmured before you felt him touch your hair again. You weren't sure what he did exactly, but when you stepped in front of the mirror, your hair looked so short. It wasn't perfect, but you loved how your hair looked, way more than it looked in a braid, ponytail or any other hairstyle you were used to. You looked like a boy, and you were so happy.

At that very moment, you knew you couldn't go back to how your life was before. You couldn't go back to wearing dresses, praying to the God that probably never listened to you and did not care about you. You could no longer pretend that you were the perfect girl you were seen as until now.

Hobie's hands grabbed you by your shoulder. “Do you want me to call by a different name?” He asked, glancing at your reflection in the mirror as he rubbed your shoulders. You thought about it for a moment, before looking up at him and speaking up. “Do you think [Name] would suit me?”

Hobie chuckled and nodded. “Definitely, luv. Definitely.” He couldn't help himself and softly kissed your cheek. You were surprised by the sudden affection, but you enjoyed it.

“I want you to cut my hair. I want it short..” You said so suddenly, your voice was a little shaky, but you couldn't wait anymore. You have wanted to cut it for a while and you didn't want anyone else other than Hobie to do it. He was surprised by you. He didn't expect you to want to do it now.

“Are you su–” 

“Yes, I am sure.” You cut him off, you didn't want to be mean, but you couldn't wait any longer. “Please… I don't want to go back to what was before. I don't want to pretend to be someone who I am not.” You begged, you sounded so desperate. He couldn't say no to you when you sounded like that.

“Okay.” He said, giving your shoulders a squeeze before he took you to the bathroom. He brought a small stool and seated you on it. He grabbed a scissors, untied your hair, looking at it for the last time before he started cutting it. You squeezed your eyes shut, your stomach swirling with anxiety, as you listened to the sound of the scissors cutting your hair.

Snip! Snip! Snip!

You felt your hair, your hair that you got so many compliments on, tickling your arms and neck before it fell down on the bathroom floor. “Done.” Hobie said, his voice was flat. It made you worry. Did you look bad? Did he mess up your hair? Was it a mistake?

He brushed the cut hair off of you, before you stood up and looked in the mirror. It was not perfect, but it still made you feel good. You started sobbing immediately. “Dove? Are you alright?” Hobie asked, worried and a little panicked.

“I've never felt better.” You sobbed out and he sighed, relieved that you liked it. He hugged you tightly, being so glad to see you happy with who you were.

But it couldn't go on forever. You came home pretty late, still wearing the clothes Hobie gave you earlier. And in the hoodie he gave so you wouldn't be cold while coming back home. You knew confrontation wouldn't be something you were able to avoid . And you knew it wouldn't be a light confrontation either.

Your parents were sitting in the living room. As soon as you closed the front door behind you, you heard your father call you by the name you no longer wished to be called by. You took a deep breath, pulling a hood over your head before you entered the living room. Your parents eyes were immediately on you, your mother gasped loudly.

“What the fuck is that!?” Your father yelled, he stood up and grabbed you by the hood and yanked it off your head. He intended to grab you by your hair, but there was nothing to grab. Your lovely long hair was long gone and there was nothing they could do about it. In a way, that made you proud.

“What have you done to yourself!?” Your mother shouted with tears in her eyes. You've never seen her crying and you didn't expect her to get so emotional. She always seemed so cold. “Where's your hair? Your dress?” She's never been so panicked. “What will we say to the others once they see that your hair is gone? What will they think of us? What will they think of you?”

There was this need to apologize, turn the time back and never let yourself explore who you really were. But you weren't going to let this need win. You have been obedient for way too long. You were pretending for way too long and now? You were tired of it.

“I don't fucking care what are they going to think of me!” You shouted back. Both of your parents were startled by the fact that you just cursed. They never heard you curse, nor did they hear you sound so confident. “I have been pretending to be someone who I wasn't me for way too long. I am not going to let you decide about how I am anymore!” 

Slap!

Your father slapped you so hard you fell to the floor. Your cheek was all red already. You and your mother were both shocked. Your father was about to take his belt off and start beating you, but your mother stopped him. “I am sure there's something we can do instead of beating her up. People will notice and they might think we were the one to cut her hair off. We can buy a wig until her hair grows back.”

“I am not growing it back and I am not putting the dresses back on.” You hissed. Maybe you shouldn't have done that, but you ripped off the virgin Mary necklace off your neck and threw it.

Your parents were more than shocked at your action. “She must have been corrupted by that punk!” Your mother cried out. “What are we going to–” Your father lost his temper. Instead of beating you up like he initially planned, he grabbed you and threw you out the door. “I no longer have a daughter!” It was the last thing you heard before he closed the door.

Soon, your father started throwing your things out the window. All those gorgeous dresses and skirts flying out the window. Before you were terrified to even slightly rip them and now? You didn't care that they got dirty, they stopped mattering to you. You only waited for your father to throw your phone. You wanted to catch it, but it fell onto the concrete, the phone screen broke, but luckily for you, you still were able to use it. You grabbed some more important things that your father had thrown and then made your way to Hobie's apartment.

He was concerned, but both of you knew it was better that way. If you stayed, nothing would change and everything would go worse. More praying, more femininity, more pretending. But you weren't going to stay with your parents, luckily Hobie said you could stay with him.

You were laying with Hobie in his bed. You were so lost in your thoughts and he could see it clearly. Hobie laid on his side to face you, the tips of his fingers brushed against your jaw to get your attention. You turned to look at him. “You okay?” You put your hands on your face and sighed.

“I'm fine. It’s just… I've wanted to be myself for a while and I…” You paused for a moment, not looking into Hobie's eyes. In a way, it all felt unreal. Usually, you would now be in your bed, reading the bible or praying. And now, you were laying with a man you didn't know very well, but he gave you everything you could have asked for. Acceptance, help and hope. 

Your eyes finally met his again. “I didn't expect that it would actually happen. I thought I was going to be everyone's perfect girl until I die, but you came into my life and changed everything. Thank you so much for that.” You smiled at him, you were so grateful he came into your life. He smiled back at you and leaned to kiss your cheek.

“You're very welcome, luv.” 

You both left the town as quickly as you could since that happened. Now, it has been 6 years since the day you met him. Everything has been truly perfect since then. Your transition was going well and you recently had your top surgery.

And Hobie? He was with you the whole time. During the first appointment at the doctor, he helped you take your first testosterone shot and he held your hand both before and after the surgery.

Life couldn't be more perfect and you never felt more perfect.

taglist: @sk3llly

[stevie-petey]

episode one: the vanishing of will byers

Steve nods, as if you almost getting hit by his car makes perfect sense to him. When you walk over to your bike and inspect it for any damage, he follows after you.  “So,” he whistles, trying to pretend that this is all a completely normal occurrence. “You, uh, need a ride?” Honestly you don’t know why you’re surprised he hasn’t noticed the clear signs of you crying, your swollen eyes and red nose. Not only is he a boy, but he’s also Steve Harrington. It’s a miracle he even stopped to make sure you weren’t dead.

summary: jonathan smuggles you free food in exchange for friendship, will goes missing the one time you listen to jonathan, hopper doesn't really like you, and steve harrington almost hits you with his car as you're sobbing like a damn baby (in a cool way).

rating: general, although there's plenty of cursing and slight innuendos, so fair warning.

warnings: cursing, fem!reader, and use of y/n.

words: 7k

before you swing in: hello ! this is the first chapter of my come home series, where i plan on rewriting the entirety of stranger things because i really love a good rewrite fic and this is me just indulging in my ideal fic fantasies tbh. before we start: this is a steve x reader fic, however there will be some slight feelings between the reader and jonathan, but it doesn't at all get in the way of steve and honestly just adds to the angst because i love a good tragedy. also, reader is dustin's older sister, but i tried to write her as neutral as possible in terms of physical features, so let's all just play along. that is all ! i'm very excited for this series and i hope y'all enjoy her as much as i do :)

-

November 6th, 1983

Your shift at Bookstrordinary ends at 8:30 tonight, so as soon as you’ve organized all the books within the store and cashed out the last customer, you say goodnight to your boss, Mrs. Waters, and clock out. Today had been a longer shift, and it didn’t help that you had to deal with a particularly eager bookclub mother who insisted that you had the latest copy of some obscure novel that she needed for her club. After several attempts to inform her that no, you really didn’t have some novel about a cowboy falling in love with a rodeo girl from Michigan, nor would you ever want to read that, the mother angrily walked away. 

You’re happy to finally be free from work though, excited to see Jonathan to tell him about the book club mom because you know he gets a kick out of those suburban middle class mothers that terrorize Hawkins. He works across from you, at The Hawk theater, and it’s one of your favorite things about the bookstore. Besides getting to be surrounded by books all day and reading Spider-Man, you get to be across the street from your best friend and share frequent breaks together. 

A bell signifies your arrival at the theater, alerting Jonathan to look up from the concession stand and smile at you. He looks tired, which you can understand. It’s been a particularly long school year so far with Jonathan having to work more shifts than usual to support his family. 

“Welcome to The Hawk, can I interest you in our specialty popcorn and candy corn mixture?”

You make a face, “No, thanks. Candy corn freaks me out.” 

Jonathan laughs, knowing you’d say that. It’s been a running joke between the two of you for as long as you can remember. You’re not picky with most foods, but candy corn? The bane of your existence. “Tough crowd, then.” 

You laugh as well, now standing in front of the counter, and you learn against it so that you’re in Jonathan’s space. After being friends for so long, personal space doesn’t exist between the two of you. You’re the only person that Jonathan lets get this close to him on a regular basis, which you’re secretly proud of. 

“So, you almost done so we can pick up our idiotic brothers?” Tonight, as usual, Will and Dustin are at Mike’s house playing DnD. They’d biked over as soon as school let out, while Jonathan drove you to work, so he was your ride back for the night. 

He shakes his head at you, wincing, “I picked up an extra shift tonight. Stacy called out sick, and it’s good money…”

You nod in understanding. He doesn’t have to explain himself to you, which he’s always relieved by. 

“It’s okay. Is my bike still in your trunk?” 

“Yeah, I can get it out for you since I’m kind of ditching you tonight.” 

You wave him off, already reaching across the counter to grab his keys from his coat pocket. “No need, I’ll get it out myself so you don’t get in trouble with your boss.” Jonathan’s boss is an older guy, extra scary. “I’m assuming that I’m taking Will home tonight?” 

“It’ll be late by the time you get the boys, and you’ll have Dustin. We only live a couple blocks apart, you can just bike with Will until you get to your street.”

“Are you sure? I know he’s scared of the dark.” 

“It’s fine, Y/N. You’re already doing enough being there for most of the ride; I’m sure Will can survive the last five minutes alone.” 

You give Jonathan an unsure look, but you don’t argue with him. He’s his brother, he knows Will’s capabilities, and it’s an unspoken fact that you baby Will a bit too much. He’s just so much tinier than the other boys, softer in a way that you want to protect. He’s special. 

Jonathan sneaks you a large peach lemonade and hot dog from the concession stand when you return with his keys. You’ve parked your bike up front, and you accept the food gratefully. You hadn’t had time to eat your usual dinner during your break due to the bookclub mother fiasco, so you inhale the food quickly and give his hair a ruffle. 

“You’re a lifesaver, bee.” 

Jonathan lightly hits your hand away from his hair. “Consider it your payment for dealing with Will and Dustin on your own tonight, bug.” 

Bee and bug were the names the two of you had given each other years ago. Jonathan had started it with bug, stemming from the fact that you love Spider-Man so much, and you had struggled to come up with your own nickname for him. Then it came to you: bee, or B, for Byers. It was perfect, and you’re still incredibly proud of yourself for the creativity, honestly. 

After your quick dinner, you say goodbye to your friend and head off. It’s late now, nearing 9, and you hope that Mrs. Wheeler and your own mom won’t be too upset with you for being late for pick up. You know they prefer to have the boys in bed by a decent hour, but in your defense, Jonathan did skip out on you.

You arrive at the Wheeler’s in a short amount of time and knock on the door. Your cheeks are flushed from the early November cold, and you’re regretting that you only put on a thin sweater and jeans this morning.

Mike answers the door, giving you a dirty look. “Did you have to come early?”

“I’m actually later than usual,” you sidestep him, making your way into his house; you’ve become used to Mike’s attitude. “I take it the campaign is still ongoing?”

“See, mom? Even Y/N understands how long a good campaign can go on for!” Mike waves his arms at you, as if to signify to his mother the importance of your understanding. 

Mrs. Wheeler ignores her son to greet you kindly, albeit a bit exasperated. “Hello, Y/N, please come in.” Then she turns to Mike, giving him a stern look. “Mike, why don’t you tell Y/N how you boys have been playing for ten hours? I’m sure she’ll be understanding then.” 

“You guys have been playing for ten hours?”

Mike looks down in embarrassment for a second before turning to his father for help. You laugh a bit at his enthusiasm and see a faint smile on his mom’s face as well. Quietly you excuse yourself to go downstairs to find the other boys, and Mrs. Wheeler wishes you luck. 

Everyone always acts like the boys are some giant pain; truthfully, you enjoy them. Sure, they can be a handful, but they’re just kids; it’s hard for you to ever stay mad at them. Plus they like you, so it makes dealing with them easier. 

Lucas, Dustin, and Will are running around the basement when you get down there, frantically searching for something. You hear Lucas inform Will that if Mike doesn’t see something, then it doesn’t count. The urgence in his voice amuses you; you’ll never fully wrap your head around why they take DnD so seriously, but you love that they can enjoy it with each other. 

Dustin is the first to see you. “Y/N!”

The other boy’s heads turn to you and they greet you with enthusiasm as well. Will rushes towards you for a hug, which you gladly accept. When you break apart, Lucas gives you a high five and asks about a comic you’ve put on hold for him at the store. 

“Any luck?”

“Sorry, Sinclair. It’s still sold out, but the second it’s restocked I’ll smuggle one for you.” 

“Sick!” 

Dustin walks over, now in his coat and holding a pizza box. “Want a slice?” 

You decline, informing him that Jonathan snuck some food for you. At the mention of his brother’s name, Will asks where he is. You tell him that Jonathan had to cover a shift and that you’ll be taking him most of the way home tonight. 

As you all make your way upstairs, you notice that Dustin continues up to the second floor. Lucas notices too, and the two of you share a knowing look. 

“Still have a crush on Nancy?” You ask, already knowing the answer. 

“Yup.” Lucas responds, smiling in disappointment. 

You wait for your brother outside, helping Will with his coat and listen to Mike’s rambling about the campaign. Lucas is already on his bike, ready to go. 

“There’s something wrong with your sister.” Dustin declares when he finally returns.

Mike looks at you, then at your brother, confused. “What are you talking about?” 

“She’s got a stick up her butt.” 

“Dustin!” You berate. Nancy isn’t your favorite person, but she’s always been nice to you the few times you’ve interacted. You guys used to be closer when you were younger, but high school has a way of distancing people.

“Yeah,” Lucas now speaks up. “It’s because she’s been dating that douchebag, Steve Harrington.” How the hell does Lucas even know about that? You didn’t even know about that until just now. 

“Lucas! Language!” 

“Yeah, she’s been turning into a real jerk.”

“Dustin, I swear to God-” 

The boys ignore you, which you’re honestly not surprised by. While they may like you, that doesn't mean that they listen to you. On a good day they maybe listen to you 25% of the time, but tonight was clearly not a good night. 

Mike finally cuts in, “She’s always been a real jerk.”

“Hey, she’s your sister. Give her some credit-”

Dustin is now the one who cuts you off. “Nuh-uh, only you get the sister leniency, Y/N. Nancy used to be cool, now she isn’t.” 

“Remember that time she dressed up as an elf for our Elder tree campaign?” Lucas asks, almost reminiscent. 

You shudder at the way he says it, and you shudder more when you see the dreamy look in your brother’s eyes. “Yeah, I remember…” 

“Gross,” you huff at your brother, now hopping on your own bike. 

Lucas and Dustin begin to pedal away, and you call after them to wait up. Will is still with Mike, and you promised Jonathan you’d get him home. You give the boys a bit of space, waiting a few paces ahead. Will has always been shy around Mike, something that you’ve tried not looking into too much, but to be safe you give them some privacy. 

Faintly, you hear Will say, “The Demogorgon, it got me.” 

Lights flicker a bit, but you’re too focused on the slight unease you feel by Will’s words. Before you can think too much about them, he joins you. “Race you up to Lucas and Dustin?”

“You’re on,” you tell him. 

Will beats you to the boys (which you let him do), and you’re out of breath. The four of you bike in silence for a bit until you reach Lucas’s turn into his neighborhood. 

“Good night, ladies.” He says, and you don’t need to be a psychic to know what your brother’s response is going to be.

“Kiss your mom ‘night for me.” Bless him.

You and Will giggle together, and Dustin smirks at the two of you, proud. He sits in the praise for a few moments before challenging you and Will to race home with the promise of a comic for whoever wins. 

“I call last year’s Black Cat issue of Spider-man!” You call out, already biking away from the boys. 

“We didn’t say go!”

Dustin and Will call after you as they try to catch up, and within a few seconds the three of you are speeding down the hill towards your home. You laugh gleefully, enjoying the way the wind whips through your hair and the way Dustin, though annoyed by your early start, laughs alongside you with Will. 

Somehow Will is the one who wins the race, which you’re impressed by. He may be small, but he’s surprisingly good at winning when it comes to a competition. Dustin shouts at Will that he’ll kill him, which makes you send a warning look at him. 

“I’ll take your X-Men 134!” Will retaliates, still flying through the street. 

You and Dustin are now stopped at your mailbox and you take a moment to catch your breath before shouting at Will, “Be careful, please! Stay safe!”

“I’ll be fine, I promise!” Will’s voice is distant, now a few yards away, and you stand outside for a few more seconds to watch his figure disappear into the night. Dustin has already gone inside but you wait to follow, only going inside when you can no longer see Will, hopefully home safe and sound. You feel fear creep upon you, but you chalk it up to your usual worry when it comes to the boy. 

He’ll be okay, Jonathan should be home within the hour. 

– 

The next morning you’re frantically biking to school, pissed off at Jonathan. He’s your ride every morning, or everywhere, really, and for the second time in 24 hours he’s bailed on you. Dustin left for school ages ago on his bike, so you’re thankful he doesn’t see you embarrassingly sweaty and gross as you race to school. 

It’s not that you’re pissed that Jonathan bailed again, you’re pissed because he didn’t even have the nerve to call you ahead of time to warn you. Now you have only ten minutes before the first bell rings, and your sweater clings to you uncomfortably as you sweat. 

You make it to school with a few minutes to spare, so you quickly make your way over to your locker to grab the necessary books for the day. You’re still sweaty, and you don’t want to even think about what your hair looks like right now. You look down the hall towards Jonathan’s locker, still not seeing him, and you begin to worry a bit. Maybe he overslept after last night’s shift? 

A body crashes into yours, sending your notebooks spiraling to the ground. Steve Harrington looks at you sheepishly, only saying a small “whoops!” before continuing his fast pace towards the girl’s bathroom. You scoff, now even more annoyed with your entire morning, picking up your stuff as you see Nancy enter the same bathroom a few moments later. 

“In a public school bathroom?” You mutter in disgust, collecting the last of your things and heading to class. 

You decide to give Jonathan until second period, sophomore English which the two of you share, before you freak out. You know you have a problem with over worrying about the people you love, so you try to calm yourself down. While Jonathan has never been the type to cancel without at least calling first, you reason with yourself that everyone has a bad morning. He simply slept in too late. When he wakes up, he’ll come to school and he’ll be sitting in the seat next to you in English. 

Except Jonathan isn’t in the seat next to yours when you enter the classroom an hour later. Now you officially let yourself begin to worry. Something about this doesn’t feel right. 

You’ve never skipped class before, school has always been important to you. You’re the top of your class with hopes of running away from Hawkins with Jonathan to a big city with an even bigger university. However, you don’t even hesitate to flee the classroom and find the nearest phone in the school to call the Byers’ residence. 

Jonathan answers after a few rings, and the words that leave his lips change your life forever. “Will is missing.”

You feel all the air in your lungs be knocked out of you. You can’t breathe and you sway a bit as your knees threaten to give out. This isn’t real, this can’t be happening. 

“What?”

“Will, he-he’s gone, Y/N. We can’t find him and-” 

You don’t hear whatever else Jonathan says. You struggle to get air back in your lungs. Will isn’t missing, you just saw him last night. Mere hours ago Will laughed next to you, face alive with joy, he hugged you and joked along with you. 

“He didn’t come home last night-”

“He didn’t come home?” Jonathan’s words catch your attention and you feel bile rise in your throat. Will didn’t make it home last night. You were the last one to see him, and the realization crushes you; it’s all your fault. 

“Mom and I just searched the woods, and there’s no sign of him and-” Jonathan is rambling now, his own fear and despair clear in his voice. 

“Jonathan,” you force his name out, now needing to be there for your best friend. You can worry for Will in your own time, right now Jonathan needs you. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” 

“Y/N, you don’t-”

You hang up before Jonathan can argue with you and stumble towards the exit. Your limbs feel heavier than normal, and your ears are ringing. Will is missing. He’s so small, he’s scared of the dark… You left him alone in the dark. 

The bike ride to the Byers home is a blur. You don’t remember much, your body going on autopilot the second you hopped on your bike. You’re running on pure fear and adrenaline right now, too worried for your boys to focus on anything else. 

You don’t bother to knock when you arrive, instead you let yourself in. Joyce is on the phone, arguing with some woman named Cynthia. Your eyes find Jonathan’s, who is sitting on the couch hunched over something. You walk over to him and sit down beside him and your stomach lurches when you see the words “have you seen me?” he’s so neatly printed out on a piece of paper.

“Bee…” you exhale, voice cracking a bit. 

Jonathan doesn’t say anything, but you know him as well as you know yourself. He doesn’t want comforting words right now. You take his hand into yours and lean your head against his shoulder. Worry has made his muscles tense, but you feel him relax into you a bit as he rests his own head against yours. The two of you sit like that for a moment, taking in the comfort you bring each other. 

“Bitch!” Joyce slams the phone down, causing you and Jonathan to jump apart. 

“Mom,”

“What?” Joyce is a mixture of both rage and anxiety, and you feel awful looking at her. Her son is missing, you can’t imagine what she must be feeling right now.

“You have to stay calm.” Jonathan tells her, his voice firm but kind. You know it’s taking everything in him to be as stable as he is right now; he’s putting on a front for his worried mother. You squeeze his hand, hoping it conveys the support and love that you need it to.

He squeezes back, and you see Joyce finally recognize that you’re there as well. She sends you a weak wave, which you return, before she goes back to dialing and trying to reach Lonnie. Jonathan gives your hand one last squeeze and lets go, now returning back to the posters. You immediately understand that he’s doing this to distract himself, so you do the same and wordlessly help him.

You begin writing your own “have you seen me?” when Joyce once again slams her phone down. The sound makes you flinch, inadvertently messing up your writing, which you sigh at. Before you can ask Jonathan for another piece of paper, you hear a car pull up. 

Jonathan stands up to investigate, alerting his mom that the cops are here. You follow after them outside, your heart dropping when you see Will’s bike in the Chief’s hand. He ushers everyone inside, informing Joyce that he found the bike lying in the road.

“How far was it from the house?” You ask, your voice frail. 

The Chief looks at you, his nametag informs you that his name is Hopper, and raises his eyebrows. “And can I know who is asking?” 

You clear your throat, nervous under his scrutinizing gaze. “I’m Y/N Henderson. I’m close with the Byers, I biked with Will home,” your voice catches in your throat, snagging onto the guilt that has been clawing at you ever since you found out Will was missing. You clear your throat again, determined to continue. “I was with him last night. My brother and I live right off Mirkwood, a few blocks from here. He only had a few more minutes before he would’ve been home.” 

Hopper stares at you. “Mirkwood?”

“It’s where-”

“Yeah, those moron kids explained it to me. I just didn’t think someone your age would call the street that, too.” Then, as an afterthought, Hopper adds, “The bike was found a block from here.”

His words sting, but you ignore it. If the bike was found only a block from the Byers’ home, then that means that something had to have happened to Will only minutes after you last saw him. You feel the familiar churning in your stomach, wracked with guilt. 

“Did it have any blood on it?” Joyce now asks, and you’re thankful she’s taken the attention off of you. 

Jonathan sees your distress and grabs your sweater so that you fall back a bit from the cops and Joyce. “Do you need a minute?”

You can only nod, afraid that if you open your mouth you’ll either cry or throw up. He gently guides you to his room, closing the door. Once you’re alone, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in tight. You’re shaking harder than ever now, Will’s happy and shining face from last night keeps flashing through your mind. 

You were the last one who ever saw him.

You’re the one who was last responsible for him. 

You.

“It’s not your fault,” Jonathan whispers, his voice muffled by your hair. You’ve always loved how you fit perfectly in his arms, your height difference being just enough that he always rests his chin against your head when he hugs you. 

“I’m the last person who saw him.”

“Y/N, I was the one who asked you to only bike him halfway-”

“No,” your voice comes out louder than you intend it to, and you push Jonathan away. He lets out a confused noise as you grapple at him, forcing him to look directly at you. “I should’ve been with him, Jonathan. It’s your job to support your family, and it’s my job to help you. I have to… I have to be the one who helps you.” 

You’ve always been fascinated by psychology, and you remember reading in one of the journals about codependency; the term was used in relation to addiction, specifically alcoholism, but it had caught your interest. To love someone to the extent that their actions make you feel responsible for them, to selflessly take on their burdens to a debilitating extent, well, it reminded you of your relationship with Jonathan. 

You’ve always taken on whatever Jonathan has had to deal with, ever since you were kids, and it’s always come so naturally to you. He’s never asked you to, and sometimes the extent to which you carry his weight angers him, but it’s how you love.

It’s who you are. You’re always the one who helps, it’s what you need to be able to do. If you can’t help the ones you love the most, then what good is your love for them?

Jonathan may not know about codependency, but he knows how hard you love those closest to you. “Bug, listen to me.” He grabs your face, almost aggressively, in order to cut off your rambling. “My mom, she-she’s already spiraling and I can’t… I need you. I need you to be here, with me, right now. If I lose you too, then I-I don’t know what I’ll do.”

His words cut through you like glass. He’s right, you know he’s right, and you feel another wave of guilt wash over you. This guilt is different from the guilt surrounding Will. This is mixed with shame for allowing yourself to spiral so far and forcing Jonathan to take care of you. Joyce is clearly unwell, you can’t fathom how much he’s had to deal with today. 

You gently remove Jonathan’s hands from your face and take a step back. If you’re going to help him, you need to collect yourself. From here on out, you have to be a wall for him to lean on, a shoulder to cry on, someone who will listen to him. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Jonathan shrugs at you, now allowing a hesitant smile to cross his face. “If it makes you feel any better, it took a lot less pleading to get through to you. I’m still working on my mom.” 

The joke is foul, one that should make you feel even worse than you already do, because what sixteen year old has to plead with their mother to remind her that he’s there, too? The joke is horrible, and it’s exactly what you need to find yourself laughing, and Jonathan joins. 

Codependency can be a bitch, but Jonathan understands you in ways that no one else can. 

“You think the cops are gone?” You ask, wiping away the remaining tears. 

Jonathan listens for any sign of them and shakes his head. “No, I think we’re all clear.”

He walks out the room first and you follow after him. Joyce is standing in the kitchen, staring at the counter with a far off look in her eyes. You and Jonathan look at each other and you motion for him to go talk to her. He nods, and then you motion to the living room to indicate that you’ll continue working on the missing posters. 

Carefully writing on the posters soothes you, in a way. It’s rhythmic, providing a sense of lull that you readily embrace. You faintly hear Jonathan talking with his mother, then you watch as he leads her to her bedroom and shuts the door. When he returns he sits next to you on the couch and begins to work on the posters as well. No words are needed. 

You work on the posters in silence for a few hours until it nears 3pm. Dustin will be getting out of school soon, and you have to be there for him when he’s home. While Will may be Jonathan’s brother, he’s also your brother’s best friend. You get up and head into the kitchen, long familiar now with its layout and usual contents within the fridge, and quickly prepare the ingredients for spaghetti. It’s a simple meal, but Jonathan and Joyce need to eat. Once it’s all laid out, you return to the living room and tap on your friend’s shoulder. 

“Hey, I have to head out now to check on Dustin, but I just put a pot of water on the stove along with some noodles on the counter. I also cut up some vegetables and put them in the fridge for the sauce. Start the meal whenever, I laid everything out for you.”

“Thank you, really,” Jonathan exhales, relief evident on his face. He hadn’t even thought about dinner, which you figured he wouldn’t. 

You bend down to kiss the top of his head. “Anytime, bee. I’ll call you tonight, okay?”

“Okay,” 

“Just…” you linger at the door, not fully wanting to leave him all by himself. “Be careful, please.” 

“Go, Y/N. I’ll be fine, I promise.” Jonathan reassures you.

“I’ll be fine, I promise!” Will’s voice is distant, now a few yards away, and you stand outside for a few more seconds to watch his figure disappear into the night.

It’s brief, but the flashback punches you in the gut. You close your eyes, holding onto the image of Will’s face in the moonlight last night, and when it fades you take a deep breath and force yourself to leave. 

The second you’re on your bike, pedaling away from the house, you let the sobs that have wracked against your throat all day out. It’s messy, the tears coming down your face faster than you can wipe them away. All the fear you’ve felt is now able to freely come out. It’s not the safest way to bike home, but you know that if you hold the tears in any longer you’ll collapse. You do your best to still be alert, but apparently you fail because a BMW honks at you to avoid you hitting it. 

“Fuck!” You yank your bike to the right, having no idea that you had been on the left side of the road, and topple over. The fall isn’t anything bad, but it definitely is your final straw for the day. You lay in the ditch you’ve landed in, staring at the November sky, and let the pain from your skinned knee serve as something to ground you to reality. 

“Holy shit, did I hit you?” 

Steve Harrington stands over you, a horrified look in his eyes. 

“Unfortunately not, otherwise I’d be able to sue you and get money out of it.” 

“Uh… okay?” He offers you his hand, although still very confused. “You didn’t like, happen to hit your head or anything, right?” 

You accept his help, albeit mostly because you have to, and brush yourself off when you’re up. “I’m fine. I just wasn’t paying attention, sorry.” 

Steve nods, as if you almost getting hit by his car makes perfect sense to him. When you walk over to your bike and inspect it for any damage, he follows after you. 

“So,” he whistles, trying to pretend that this is all a completely normal occurrence. “You, uh, need a ride?”

Honestly you don’t know why you’re surprised he hasn’t noticed the clear signs of you crying, your swollen eyes and red nose. Not only is he a boy, but he’s also Steve Harrington. It’s a miracle he even stopped to make sure you weren’t dead. 

“No,” you say, now repositioning your backpack so that you can get back on your bike. “Thanks anyways, Harrington.” 

Steve continues to follow you, even after you’ve started to pedal away. “You’re welcome, random girl I almost hit!”

You’re a bit further now, and you still feel like utter shit, but his words somehow make you laugh a bit. For a brief moment, you forget about everything, so you call behind, “It’s Henderson!” 

“That’s an odd first name!” The boy shouts after you, still following from a distance. 

“Y/N Henderson!” You’re fully yelling now, a good yard away, but you can tell that Steve hears you based on the way he begins to wave eagerly, finally stopping next to his car. Faintly you understand the boyish charm that makes him so loved by all the girls in the school; you understand why Nancy Wheeler has fallen for him.

“Bye, Y/N!” It’s faint, but you swear you can hear a smile in his voice.  

The good mood that Steve Harrington inexplicably puts you in vanishes when you near your house. Nothing has changed, yet it feels as if something has shifted. Will had been here only hours ago. You spot Dustin’s bike laying on the grass, haphazardly thrown as usual. 

Dustin is just taking off his coat when you enter, immediately running over to him to pull him into a bone crushing hug. 

“Y/N!” he squeaks in surprise. 

“Are you okay?” You know you’re squeezing your brother harder than you need to, but God. He’s safe, in your arms, and you’ve now learned that not everyone can say the same about their own loved ones. 

Dustin wiggles a bit, trying to break away from the hug, but you only pull him in tighter. “Geesh, no one died.” 

Normally you’d berate him, but you embrace his snarky comments. They’re what make Dustin so unique, his humor one of your favorite parts of him

When you don’t respond, Dustin stops wiggling around and finally accepts the situation. “I love ya too, sis.” 

You giggle a bit, now pulling away. “At least mom isn’t home right now. The minute she hears about what’s happened, we’ll be on lockdown.”

Dustin’s eyes widen. “Shit, you’re right.” 

“Lan-”

“Language, I know.”

You ruffle his hair, now feeling a bit better. Dustin is still Dustin, so maybe everything will be okay. You and your brother go into the kitchen for your post school snack, and you call your boss to inform her that you can’t make it to your shift. The words “family emergency” catch in your throat a bit, and Mrs. Waters is kind enough not to push it.

Dustin catches you up on his day, informing you about Hopper questioning him and the other boys. 

You scrunch your nose at that. “Is that even legal?”

“Unsure, but it was awesome.”

“Will went missing, Dustin. It isn’t ‘awesome’.”

Dustin tilts his head at you. “Well, I bet Will is going to have a blast hearing everything when we find him.” 

His words are so matter of fact, as if he already knows that Will will be found after all. His naivety worries you a bit, but you also can’t help but indulge in his hope as well. Then you think about what he’s just said. “Wait, who’s ‘we’?”

Your brother pretends he can't hear you, miming at his ears. “Dustin-”

“What?”

“Dustin, you and the boys can’t just-”

“I can’t hear you!” He’s running to his room now with you quick behind his heels. 

“Dustin, I swear to God-”

“I gotta do homework, Y/N, bye!” He slams the door in your face. 

You sigh. There’s no getting through to him, years of being Dustin’s older sister has taught you that, so you go into your room instead. You might as well get started on the assignments you missed today, and you have a huge chem test tomorrow, so you’ll focus on that and keep an ear out for Dustin. Whatever he’s planning with the boys, you won’t let them do it alone. 

After a couple hours of silence from Dustin’s room, you decide to call Jonathan. The line rings for a while with no answer, and eventually you give up. It makes sense that he’s not answering, he’s had a long day. You hope he’s asleep, but you know him better than that. He’s probably holed up in his room, trying to distract himself like you are right now. 

A loud thud from Dustin’s room breaks you from your thoughts. Then you hear a quiet “shhh!” that sounds suspiciously like Lucas, and you immediately throw on your shoes and a jacket and march outside. 

Dustin is halfway out of his window when you arrive, and Mike and Lucas stare at you, caught red handed. 

“Guys, I think she can hear us.” Your brother says, breaking the silence. Mike scoffs at him and Lucas groans. 

You eye the three of them, unamused. “Your best friend just went missing, what the hell are you guys doing out here so late and alone?”

Dustin awkwardly finishes his descent down, finally landing on his feet with a thud. He secures his hat back on his head and goes to grab his bike. You block his path. 

“I’m serious, one of you needs to start talking, now.” 

Lucas and Dustin look at Mike, who is their unofficial leader of the gang, and he huffs. “Look, Y/N, I like you-”

“How thrilling.” You say, voice monotone. 

The boy ignores you and continues to talk. “But Will is missing, and we aren’t just going to sit around and wait. He’s our friend, we have to do something.” 

You open your mouth to speak, but Lucas interrupts you. “You’re definitely our favorite sister in the group, so you’d be even cooler if you let us go.” 

Again, you try to respond, but this time Dustin beats you to it. “Yeah, you’re like, totally cool already. If you pretend that you never saw us, that’d be great.” 

“Guys-”

“And don’t give us a whole lecture about safety. That’s all bull.” Mike says. 

“Boys!” You scream. They all fall silent, not used to you ever raising your voice at them. You’ve only ever yelled at them once or twice, preferring to be the “cool” sister whenever you can, but right now they’re seriously pissing you off. 

“Let me speak.” When no one says anything, you continue. “I’m not going to stop you guys from looking for Will. In fact, I support it-”

“You do?”

You shoot Mike a death glare, which promptly shuts him up. “Yes, I do. However, I’m not letting you guys go alone.” 

The boys all groan at this, acting as if it’s the worst thing in the world to have you tag along with them. You ignore their complaining and head over to where your bike sits against the porch. You zip up your coat, the chill from the night making you shiver a bit. 

“No arguing, or I’ll call all your moms. Ours included, Dustin.”

“Why me?”

“Look, guys. I’m proud of you for stepping up, but I’m coming with. The last time I let one of you boys go off into the woods alone…” 

The boys shift uncomfortably now, realizing how heavy the guilt weighs upon you. After a few beats of silence, Mike finally gives in. 

“Fine,” he says, pointing a finger at you. “But the second you start to freak out, you’re gone.” 

You salute Mike, hopping on your bike as you all begin to bike away. The ride doesn’t take long, since you live just off of where Will was last seen. Thunder rumbles when you all approach the crime scene, and you shudder a bit. 

“It’s going to rain, guys.” You inform them. 

Dustin looks up at the sky with uncertainty. “I think maybe we should go back.”

Mike is quick to shut down the idea, urging the others to keep going. You admire his loyalty to Will, and you figure it’s why the two of you butt heads so often. Out of the entire group, you’re the most similar to him. 

Lucas and Mike go under the caution tape first, and Dustin hangs back. You place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “We can go back, you know.” 

He clenches his jaw, jutting his chin out a bit. “No, Will needs us.”

Your brother puffs out his chest and follows after his friends, leaving you to take up the rear. More thunder rumbles and the rain begins to come down. You flip your hood up, thankful you remembered to grab a hoodie when leaving. 

Mike guides the way with his flashlight, then Lucas, then Dustin, then you in the back. You make sure to keep your eyes on the three boys, scared that the second you look away they’ll be gone. The woods have always creeped you out, but you push your fear down to keep them safe. 

“Will!” Mike calls out, the rain now pouring down on you guys. 

“Byers!” 

“Will, little bee!” You call out as well. He never liked when you called him that in front of the others, but tonight was an exception. 

“I’ve got your X-Men 134!” Your brother bribes, unintentionally making you laugh a bit. If Will is nearby, he’ll surely come out to claim his prize. 

Your foot catches on a tree log, and you slip in the mud before just barely managing to catch yourself. It’s getting hard to see given how dark it is and the rain surrounding you. Dustin voices his concerns, only to be called a baby, and you bite your tongue. If you defend him, he’ll only look more like a baby to his friends. 

“I’m just being realistic!” He retaliates, which you commend him for. 

“Dustin’s right, guys. It’s getting really bad out here. We’re surrounded by a ton of trees, don’t they attract lightning?” You ask, now paranoid that you’ll be struck down any second. 

“You guys are being sissies.” Lucas taunts, annoyed as well. 

You try to argue, but Dustin voices a thought that’s been at the back of your mind. “Did you ever think Will went missing because he ran into something bad?”

You think back to how Hopper seemed worried when he investigated the Byers home. From what you can recall, he suspected that Will had been running away from something, explaining why he’d abandon his bike.

“And now we’re going to the exact same spot where he was last seen, and we have no weapons or anything?”

Maybe Dustin’s right. This definitely wasn’t your best idea, and you’re regretting letting them follow through with their plan. For someone who claims to want to keep their loved ones safe, you really suck at it. 

“Dustin, shut up.” Mike voices, though he now looks a bit concerned as well. 

“He’s right, Mike.” You speak up, stumbling a bit in more mud. Your shoes are definitely ruined, now. “I was at Jonathan’s when Hopper showed up, he thinks Will was running from something.” 

The boys go quiet now, and when you’re about to suggest going home, you hear rustling in the bushes. 

“Did you guys hear that?” Mike asks. 

Your heart stops as the rustling continues and you all start to twist and turn, looking for the source of the sound. The rustling gets louder, almost as if it’s getting closer, and you tighten your hand around your flashlight, ready to use it as a weapon just in case. 

Then, the light flashes upon a little girl, drenched in an oversized yellow shirt, shivering. Her head is shaved, but her small stature suggests to you that she is indeed a girl. You all stare at her, no one saying a thing. She stares back, a terrified look on her face that breaks your heart. 

“Holy shit,” you whisper. 

Her eyes land on you; something about her reminds you of Will, and  you know that nothing will be the same again.

-

⌑ series masterlist

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[kingofbodyrolls]

Hoseok fic recs 2024 🥳

In honor of Hoseok’s birthday, I want to share my ultimate favorite Hobi stories, that I’ve read this past year (2023-2024) 💜 I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

❗Most of these fics are smutty as hell or contains dark themes, so minors dni.❗ 

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the fic, it might seem like a tiny gesture, but it really means a lot for writers and I can guarantee it will put a smile on their faces💜 Let’s share and give lots of love! Looking for more to read? Check ‘The Library’ or last years recs 🙂

[index] → jan | feb (💜) | mar (myg) | apr | may | jun | jul | aug | sep (jjk)(knj) | oct (pjm) | nov | dec (kth)(ksj) | Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻, fantasy = 🪄.

⭐Helping Hands by @m-yg93 [6k] // jhs x f.reader // f2l // 🥵

📝 Between your boyfriend getting into bed with another girl and finals taking all your time a cold rift has emerged between the usually warm movie nights with your best friend. Thankfully exams are over and Hoseok is back on your couch where he belongs. When some shit talking gets a little too close to home and Hoseok finds out you’ve never even had an orgasm he decides to take things into his own hands, and yours. 

🗨️ This was so hot, like what 😳🥵 also a bit funny, but mostly smutty 🤭

⭐Flight 18 by @noona-la-la-la [9.5K] // jhs x f. reader // flight!au, idol!au // 🥵😂

📝 Korean Air Flight 18 leaves daily from Los Angeles traveling to Seoul.  You’ve taken this flight before, but this time you’ve got an irritating passenger in the neighboring seat.  Little did you know that he would end up giving you the ride of your life.

🗨️ This was just really really amazing; utterly funny (like I was laughing at certain points), so much sexual tension that evolves into satisfying smut 😗

⭐Ho Ho Horrible @ugh-yoongi [5.6K] // jhs x f.reader // e2l, neighbor!au, holiday!au // 🥵🥰😂

📝 (or, the one where your neighbor is a relentless christmas caroler and refuses to take a hint, but at least he's really hot.)

🗨️ No– this was just so freaking cute! 😭 Like fluffy cute and also extremely funny, just what I love. I loved this so much 💜 OC’s friendship with Tae, their banter was 💯 and then with Hobi, just so so good! It was so cute and OC’s internal dialogue is just funny 😂A really cute holiday themed Hoseok fic that I can’t recommend enough!!!! Everything was just great. Had me smiling and giggling a few times – please go read it 🥹💜

⭐Started with a Sparkle, now we’re on Fire @the-boy-meets-evil [6.5K] // jhs x f.reader // f2l // 🥵

📝 You're feeling self conscious about your recent break-up and hoseok is more than happy to teach you a thing or two.

🗨️ Really really good! I really liked it 💜 I really loved how both sweet and demanding Hoseok was, guiding oc through everything.

⭐Watch Yourself by @boymeetsweevil [7.7k] // jhs x f.reader // non idol au, pwp // 🥵

📝 It starts with an invitation from your ex. It ends with Hoseok’s hands down your pants in said ex’s kitchen.

🗨️ Oh this was hot alright 🥵

⭐In the Car @floralseokjin [14.7K]  // jhs x f.reader // mechanic!hoseok, street racer!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 all you had was a dead car battery, you weren’t looking for romance, regardless if the charming mechanic had other ideas. You’ve heard stories that could put you off… Can he change your misconceptions, or will they prove correct after all…?

🗨️ oh my- really really good 💖 something about mechanic AND street racer Hoseok has me question my sanity 🥵

⭐Two in one @here2bbtstrash [12K] // jhs x f.reader x pjm // best friends!au, threesome // 🥵🥵🥵

📝 you finally have a much-needed smoke session with your best friends, just like old times. you’re also pretty sure they’re gay… right?

🗨️ the chemistry between them, how they have been friends for so long, oc’s assumptions lol, and their humor too! Priceless 👏💖 Gosh! It was pure filth, in the best way possible, so sinful and dirty— and, and—, PLEASE GO READ IT IF YOU HAVEN’T ALREADY 😭💖

⭐Floored @lavienjin [5.2K] // jhs x f.reader x pjm x jjk // idol!au, established relationship with Hobi, foursome // 🥵🥵🥵

📝 in the midst of your reunion with your boyfriend after not seeing each other for some time, you’re interrupted by two sets of eyes. not wanting to waste the opportunity, hoseok proposes a foursome and hey, “the more, the merrier”, right?

🗨️ what did I even read? 🥵 (it was good!)

⭐Good Morning @ppersonna [2.1K] // jhs x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵🥰

📝 hoseok’s methods of waking you up are … unconventional, but effective.

🗨️ omg I loved it 💖💯

⭐To the Beat of my Heart @jeonggukingdom [7.2K] // jhs x f.reader // dancer!au, sort of e2l // 🥵

📝 when you walk into the studio that Sunday afternoon, all you expect is a lonely and chill practice session but, a few hours later, your programs are shattered in thousand pieces by the unexpected presence of Jung Hoseok. And nothing could have prepared you for what he had in store for you.

🗨️ wow, this was incredibly good! Well written and it was just so freaking hot, I loved it! 💯✨

⭐Holiday Inn @bangtanintotheroom [36.6K] // jhs x f.reader // non-idol!au, rap group!au, s2e2l // 🥵😂

📝 if it’s not the loud music, it’s the constant rapping. If it’s not the constant rapping, it’s the hysterical laughter. And if it’s not the hysterical laughter, it’s the moaning and screaming women. How the hell hasn’t your neighbor been kicked out yet? Oh right; he’s a beloved rapper.  

🗨️ I’m just— WOW 🤯💯 This must be one of the best Hoseok fics I’ve ever read. Damn it was fucking amazing 👏 I loved the assertiveness of reader, and how that tension just build so fucking perfectly! Everything was so freaking good. A masterpiece!! 💜✨

⭐Make Me @violetsiren90 [16k] // jhs x f.reader // idol!au, f2fwb, BDSM lifestyle // 🥵🥵🥵

📝 You’ve been friends with Hobi for years, and he’s your comfort zone - but when he gets wind of a dark secret you drunkenly let slip, things between you take a sudden extreme change.

🗨️ Oh. My.Goodness. My soul left my body multiple times when I read this!!! It is incredible!!! Really love this one, and if you like BDSM this is definitely for you, but even if you don’t (like me, this was out of my ‘comfort zone’) you will still enjoy it ✨👏💯

And as a something a little extra, here’s a few fics that I haven’t had the time to read yet, but damn I’m buzzing to get to read them:

Sonic Rain [25k] @jungblue

The Retreat [19.6k] @ugh-yoongi

Fake Love [16.2k] @aquaminwrites

The Night Shift [11k] @prolixitae

The Treasured Thief [16k] @justimajin

Happy birthday HOBI!!!! 🥳💜✨

[11queensupreme11]

What would it be like if the Gods, adults not children, know all this about Percy being from another universe and everything he's going to have to go through and somehow they end up meeting a 12-year-old Percy? I'm talking about a Percy before the field trip to the museum with Mrs. Dotts, which is to say when he didn't know anything about the Gods.

this whole thing just reminds me of this final fantasy 7 ao3 fanfic where everyone got sent back to the past AND remembered what happened... EXCEPT CLOUD and they were all frantically planning on a way to train this poor kid on how to save the world in case sephiroth goes insane again while simultaneously not telling him cuz they didn't want him to remember all his trauma 😭😭😭

(also if anyone knows which fic this, PLEASE SEND ME THE LINK CUZ I FORGOT THE TITLE AND AUTHOR AND I WANNA READ IT AGAIN!!!!)

anyway, if they got isekai-ed to percy's universe in the past AND THEY KNOW what's gonna happen to her, they are absolutely gonna scramble for a way to get back to their universe with percy in order to prevent The Plot from happening 😭😭😭😭

like "hell fucking no my baby is NOT going through any of that!!!!" 😭😭😭😭

i can't even blame them cuz imagine finding this tiny lil 12 year old girl, the de-aged version of someone you love so very much, and KNOWING she's about to go through some traumatizing shit soon and you have the chance to save her from that? they're gonna do whatever it takes to save her from that awful fate!!

poseidon is straight up kidnapping her, getting a child leash, and tethering her to him while he frantically tries to find a way to access the bifrost and send them back home, meanwhile he's got a feral 12 year old trying to gnaw through the leash 💀

hades definitely feels bad for kidnapping her from her poor mother, BUT IT'S FOR PERCY'S OWN GOOD, HE SWEARS!!!! 🥺🥺🥺 he's absolutely not gonna go to any of the gods for help because he's seen their buffoonery and wants no part of it, so it's up to him to find a way back home!!

beelzebub's not gonna bother with a child leash, after he kidnaps her he's whipping out the cuffs again cuz those have a shorter chain AND she can't gnaw them off 💀 probably gives up on the handcuffs tho when she somehow manages to break them and ends up just lugging her around like this:

apollo's gonna be such a nervous wreck. he does NOT want to kidnap her, he would prefer it if she just comes with him willingly but it comes off SO sus like "hi there little girl! do you want some candy? i'm trying to save ur life pls trust me" and percy may be 12 but she's not STUPID, so she goes "stranger danger" and runs away and now he has no choice but to kidnap her while he tries to find a way back 😭

loki's more subtle at first. he'll kill of mrs. dodds, chiron, and grover and shapeshift to become percy's new math teacher to replace dodds. he knows he still has some time before The Plot hits, so he's not TOO panicked rn and when he's not pretending to be a math teacher, he spends his time snooping around asgard to try and figure out how their bifrost works to send them both home. killing those three ^ eliminates the whole field trip issue, but you know, Fates 💀 ofc they find a way to make The Plot keep going so yeah, loki snaps and kidnaps her to keep her safe

i promise you, ten minutes into anubis' arrival in the pjo verse, the news article "freakishly tall furry man kidnaps child from yancy academy -- local furry community claims no ties to the kidnapper" is gonna spread around like wildfire 💀 he is absolutely gonna kidnap her is probably gonna spend most of the time freaking the fuck out instead of actually trying to find a way back home

cú chulainn's got it a little harder. yes he can easily kidnap her, but he's not a god. he's been blessed with his adoptive father's abilities, but he can't like... teleport, be in multiple places at once, easily search the universe in case percy runs away, etc. so he tries to be more discreet about it like loki by killing off mrs dodds and any monsters that come percy's way. he'll try to find a way to the bifrost too, but it'll be more difficult for obvious reasons. it's once The Plot hits does he finally say fuck it and just joins her to keep her close while trying to find a way to access the norse pantheon

[drdemonprince]

Hi Devon! I read your work published on substack on autism and asexuality (really great stuff!) and then found your Tumblr and came across your own experiences navigating sexuality and kink, and they made me wonder if you have any advice for a fellow asexual on the spectrum who struggles socially but is interested in experimenting with sex/kink for the first time? People usually find sexual partners on dating apps or at the club but that seems so daunting I've been entertaining this fantasy of finding a community of people with a virgin fetish just so I don't have download tinder

Abandon your fantasy that anything fulfilling will occur without a massive amount of work. Running one's own sexual life requires a high caliber of communication, negotiation, and self-promotion skills, as well as a significant amount of time and experience. If this is worth it for you, venture forth! If not, maybe now is not the right time.

I will have a much more in depth guide on cruising written sometime soonish, but in the meantime I do have some tips.

Do not use fucking Tinder. That is an incredibly vanilla, heteronormative site. You might have a negative impression of your chances finding what you want because you've only had a glimpse of the most normie places and your friends' experiences with them. To find the kinky, experimental kind of sex you want, you'll instead have to educate yourself, and go looking for the freaks.

Fetlife is a good place to start. It will be overwhelming to navigate at first, but keep pressing. Fill out your profile with your interests, take a few sexy photos (whatever that means for you), and join local groups. Follow people who post things you find interesting, read lots of posts. Pick up some books on leather and kink history, and study up. Jack Rinella is a favorite of mine, but I am deliberately keeping my recommendation list lean so that you will dig for what you are interested in, yourself.

Look up local groups interested in rubber, leather, kink, etc, find local dungeons, attend local munch events (these are low-pressure social hangouts with no kinky play, but for kinksters to meet eachother), and find out where the gay bars are in your area that have backrooms in them, as well as cruising spots. Check out spaces where people do kinky or sexual stuff together and just watch.

After considerable information gathering and self-searching, put yourself out there and take agency over your own sexual life. Message people you find interesting, and I do mean just interesting. Learn from other bottoms if you're a bottom. Trade stories with other subs if you're a sub. Learn techniques from other Doms if you're a Dom, or some combination of all these things if you're verse or switchy. If someone shares some interests with you and seems compatible, make a specific suggestion for play, like: Want to meet up and practice our rope tying? or Would you like to practice your spanking technique on me? or I don't like having sex, but I'd love to use you as my personal footstool.

Remember that you get to set the terms for the engagement, and the other person does as well. If they reject you, that means consent has successfully happened, everybody gets a pat on the back, good job. The same goes for you. If all you want is to drag a human puppy around on a leash, don't settle for someone who keeps pressuring you for sex. Just end the interaction. There are a whole lot of freaks out there with a whole array of interests, and most people who are kinky eventually learn to be gracious and work with what a prospective partner is into, but we also all have our dealbreakers. That's fine. You don't want to play football with someone who insists on tackle when all you want is touch. It's the same thing. This is just silly pretend games. So find someone who wants to play a game you want to play.

And yeah, you can expect it to take about two years to really find your footing in this world and really know what you want and how to articulate it successfully, at least. That doesn't mean you won't have enjoyable (or at least interesting, informative) experiences along the way. But it is a lot of work. I find it is better to lead off with realistic expectations because many people rush out hoping that someone will just magically appear who will fulfill all their desires, and that's not how the world works. Every person that you speak to in a kinky context is a full human being with their own anxieties, sexual traumas, shame, areas where they lack experience, and desires that might strike them as impossible to realize.

In kink, you have to learn to navigate really complicated interactions with each one of them as its own independent thing. A lot of us make the mistake early on of thinking everyone else out there is a more seasoned, confident, sexually voracious being than we are, and that all we have to do is find the right person to give us a good time. But with our actions and negotiations WE make it a good time, us and our partner of the moment, together.

If you don't put the work in, you get nothing out. But the more you reveal of yourself and stay present in the interaction and honor it as the specific, unique thing that it is, the more benefits you reap -- not just sex or kinky play, but friendships, community ties, self-knowledge, and social skills.

Have fun out there! I hope you learn a lot.