#i'd say this is a really long tag in my attempts to keep it out of the tags but I already fucking KNOW they fixed that glitch and it is rlly

[skbeaumont]

Just a Graze | Joel x Reader oneshot

One-shot Joel/Reader. Previously posted in two parts but thought I'd make a masterpost for this one.

Summary: Joel comes back injured, and while you patch him up the tension that's been building for several months threatens to break.

Tags/warnings: dirty talk, explicit content, language, injury detail (not explicit), MDNI, sexual tension, PIV, oral (F receiving), FILTH

Word Count: 4.3k

Joel’s bleeding when he gets back. The screen door clatters shut behind him, wire shuddering against the wood, and you look up from the table. His face is set, a solid frown painted across his features – nothing unusual – but there’s a downward turn to his mouth that you recognise as a pained expression. He steps in and leans against the counter, one hand on the warped wood, the other pressed against his shoulder. Blood seeps through his fingers, clotting around his knuckles, staining his jacket red.

��I’m okay,” he says as you spring up from your place at the dusty kitchen table, “it’s just a graze.”

“Bullet?” You ask, ignoring his attempts to wave off your concern.

“Barbed wire,” he says, letting you lead him further into the cabin, toward the misshapen couch, “stupid mistake, I didn’t see it.”

The shotgun clatters onto the floor at his feet as he collapses onto the couch with a groan. He doesn’t protest as you pull his fist away from the wound, your hand warm against his wind-chilled fingers. The cut isn’t deep, but the wire has torn through his jacket and shirt down to the flesh of his shoulder, leaving a jagged cut that’s oozing blood.

“You must be getting old,” you say, standing to search through your pack for the first aid kit, “your eyes are going as well as your ears.”

“Ain’t nothing wrong with my eyes. Or my ears.”

“Sorry?”

“I said, there-” he notices your grin, the glint of mischief in your eye. He sighs heavily. “You’re a damn pain in my ass.”

You huff out a laugh and pull a kitchen chair across to sit opposite him. You open the first aid kit – which is really no more than a small washbag stuffed with a bottle of Lysol and a handful of bandages – on your lap, pull out the disinfectant and start unscrewing the cap. “Can you take your jacket off?” You ask, and he nods, starts unzipping it and pulling it off of his uninjured arm. He winces a little as he peels it past his bad shoulder, shakes it down his arm and lays it over his lap, frowning at the gash in the fabric.

“I can patch that up when we get back to Jackson.” You say.

“Ain’t going back ‘til we’ve something to bring back.” He replies, and now it’s your turn to sigh.

“We’ve got two deer and a whole family of rabbits, Joel. There’s nothing else out here for us to get.”

“We both saw that clinic complex, and I ain’t arguing with you about this again. Winter’s well on its way, and we need as much medicine as we can get to make it through. I almost got in today – would have, if I hadn’t got caught on that damned barbed wire. We’ll both go back tomorrow.”

He fixes you with a hard stare, one that makes the hairs stand up on the back of your neck, though whether it’s through fear or something else, you’re not sure. You’ve been partnering up for a couple of months now, going out on hunts and supply runs, growing slowly closer over long hikes and cold nights camping out under the stars.

At first, he intimidated you. He was cold, harsh; a solid bulk of a man who never smiled and rarely spoke, except to tell you to keep your voice down or stop walking so loudly. But then, gradually, he’d started loosening up around you. A few weeks ago he’d cracked a smile at a joke you’d made – something stupid about a bird in a tree, the kind of joke your dad used to make when you were a kid – and then that smile had grown into a deep chuckle a couple of days later, and then a conversation, whispered and illusive, under a starry sky last week.

This latest trip outside Jackson had been the most enjoyable yet, conversation flowing easily between you, and you were starting to suspect that the strange swooping feeling in your stomach that arose each time he looked at you, or bumped against you as you walked had a lot less to do with how intimidating he could be, and a lot more to do with him.

Now, locking eyes with him over the opened bottle of Lysol, his eyes dark and with an argument boiling up between you, that feeling blossoms into something hot and delicious, stirring a fire in your belly that makes you bold.

“From where I’m sat,” you say, tipping the bottle of Lysol so that the disinfection pours out onto a clean swab, “you don’t seem to have much choice about what we’re doing next. You’re hurt, and I need to patch you up, so stop arguing and take your shirt off.”

He opens his mouth to argue but shuts it again, eyes flicking up to your face. A hint of red creeps up his neck, settling high on his cheeks, tinging them scarlet in the low light of the cabin. You keep glaring at him. He lets out a long breath through his nose and moves to unbutton his shirt. The shirt is old, vintage, even – probably older than you – with mismatched buttons and a crumpled, frayed look. It comes apart easily, Joel’s fingers working down the buttons nimbly until he reaches the bottom. He pauses there, looks up at your face. You look away, because heat is creeping up your own neck now, hot and unbridled, as he pushes the shirt off of his shoulders and lets it fall open onto the couch behind him.

After his dark eyes, the most notable thing about Joel is his stature. He’s tall, and broad enough to fill any room he’s in. You’ve seen him lift grown men like they weigh nothing, watched him pick up a dead deer and throw it over one shoulder without so much as a stumble. Last month you went out on horseback to scope a potential hunting ground, and, sitting behind him in the saddle, you couldn’t see anything past the triangular bulk of his shoulders, your hands clasped easily around his waist. So, yeah, you know he’s strong, could tell anyone that the man is built. But when you look at him in the half-light with his shirt off, uncovered by layers of leather or plaid, the sight still sends blood rushing to your face.

His shoulders are broad, curving into thick biceps that tense as he raises a hand to scratch, self-consciously, at the back of his neck. There are small scars littering his chest, running down in narrow white slices to his belly, which is softer than the rest of him, sloping and scattered with coarse hair that continues below the buckle of his belt. You want to press your face into it, kiss the contours of his bellybutton and the plains of his chest, up to the juncture of his throat, which bobs as he swallows, eyes shifting to catch yours.

“You gonna patch me up or just stare?” He asks, and there’s something teasing in his voice, something that causes heat and slick to pool in between your thighs. “I- you’ve got a lot of scars.” You say, stupidly, tipping more Lysol onto the cloth you’re holding.

“Had a lot of run-ins with barbed wire.” He replies, the words turning to a hiss when you press the wet cloth to the cut on his shoulder.

“Should be more careful.”

“Now where would the fun be in that, darlin’?”

Oh, that’s new. You’ve heard him call Ellie pet names before, laughed when she rolls her eyes and shirks away from his affections, all fifteen years old and too cool to be coddled. But he’s never called you anything but your name – never so much as shortened it to a nickname like almost everyone else does. You flick your gaze from his wound to his face. His eyes are dark, expression unreadable, but the intensity of his gaze makes you look away, cheeks reddening. You pull the cloth away from his arm and start wrapping a clean bandage around his shoulder.

“Sorry,” he says, after a pause. “I forget, sometimes. Recently.”

“Forget what?”

“That you’re young enough to be my-” He cuts himself off here, “that you’re a hell of a lot younger’n I am.”

This makes you laugh out loud, a huff of breath exhaled. You’re still opposite each other, him on the sofa, knees spread wide, you in the kitchen chair. If you inched forward only slightly your own legs would be between his.

“Old days I’d have been old enough to drink and drive, and more than old enough to flirt, Joel.”

“That what you want? You want me to flirt with you?” His voice is low, almost a whisper.

You shrug and hold his gaze. “I think it’s what you want too. I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I can’t see you.”

You have. He thinks he’s being discrete, but you’ve seen how his eyes linger on your legs, how he can’t help but drop his gaze to your chest when you wear something low cut. A few weeks ago you’d seen him adjust himself in his jeans when you stripped down to your underwear to bathe in a stream you’d come across after two days out searching for supplies.

“And how’s that?” He asks. You have to hold yourself back from leaning forward and kissing the worried crease of his mouth.

“Like you’re a man dying of thirst and I’m an oasis.”

He scoffs at that. “Shoulda been a writer, sweetheart.”

“And how does this story end?”

“Ends with you walking away from me like you should’ve months ago. This,” he flicks a finger at himself and then you, “ain’t happening.”

“Why not? You want it, I want it. I don’t see what the problem is.”

“Problem is,” he slides his arms off the sofa, reaching back to pull his shirt back up over his shoulders, “you think you know what you want, but you don’t.” He starts buttoning the shirt, fixing you with a stern look. “Trust me.”

He tries to stand but you put your hands on his knees, holding him in place.

“No way,” You say, your heart thumping in your chest, “you don’t get to decide what I do or don’t want.”

“What do you want? You want me to fuck you? Want me to spread your pretty little legs out across this couch and make you come on my tongue?”

Yes. God, yes.

“What if I do? What if that’s exactly what I want you to do?” You slide your hands further up his legs, holding him down on the couch. If he wanted to, he could push you off easily, but he doesn’t. When your fingertips reach the tops of his thighs he slides his hands over your wrists and pins them where they are, stopping you moving any higher.

“Find someone your own age, sweetheart. Someone whose knees don’t creak when the stand up. Someone who can make you happy.” And then he’s standing up, moving your hands off of him with ease, stepping around you in the kitchen chair to stride to the other side of the room, the tension collapsing in on itself as he tells you to get some sleep, that there’s more work to do tomorrow.

*****

The next morning brings rain. It hammers against the walls of the cabin and drips in through the leaky roof. Joel stands at the window, one hand on his hip, silently looking out at the downpour.

“Tell me you’re not considering going out in this?” You say, moving up behind him to peer out at the lashing rain.

“Might ease up later.” He says, turning to face you. “There’s enough to do in here to keep us occupied, anyway.”

“Guns?” You ask.

“Guns.” He agrees.

Joel’s fanatical about keeping the guns clean and working. It makes sense, you suppose. You don’t know much about his past, about how he and Ellie ended up in Jackson, but what you’ve heard, the snippets Ellie’s confided in you over quiet conversations, makes for grim listening. To Joel, those guns mean the difference between life and death.

And so you both sit at the kitchen table, meticulously cleaning Joel’s shotgun and your pistol, passing cloths and gun oil between you. You make casual conversation as you go, neither of you touching on the events of the previous evening. After he dismissed you last night you’d gone straight to bed, tucked yourself into the dusty single bed in the bedroom while Joel took the couch. Your dreams had been hazy and pleasant, and you’d woken up flushed.

You’re sliding the magazine back into your pistol when Joel jumps and swears, pulling his hand back from where he’s trapped his finger in the loading mechanism of the shotgun. A tiny bead of blood wells up and spills over his fingertip and he sighs heavily. You reach out and take his hand in yours to examine the cut. It's tiny - you've seen paper-cuts do more damage - but Joel's frowning like he's in pain.

“You’ve gotta stop being so clumsy.” You say.

“I’m not clumsy.” He replies, letting you turn his hand in yours, watching you watch his thick fingers, take in the breadth of his knuckles.

“No?”

“No. It’s-”

You're not sure what makes you do it - maybe it's frustration still boiling over from yesterday, maybe it's the way Joel looks at you as you clasp his large hand in your own smaller one -  but before he can finish speaking you pull his arm across the table and wrap your lips around his finger. You snake your tongue over the pad of the digit and the noise he makes then - a breathy, broken groan - sends fire surging through you, heat coiling between your thighs.

“Distraction.” He finishes.

When you pull your mouth away and place a wet kiss to the palm of his hand, he slides his fingers across your jaw and up into the mess of your hair. His hand is hot against your scalp, curving around the back of your neck, leading you forward so that he can fit his mouth against yours across the table.

Pleasure flutters out from the pull of his fingers in your hair, and his lips are soft and dry until he opens his mouth to you, guiding your tongue into his mouth, pressing his into yours. It’s slow at first. Tentative, as though he’s waiting for you to push him away. But you’ve never wanted anything more, and when you moan against his lips he stands, bracketing your face with both hands to pull you up from your own chair.

It’s a messy walk backwards from the table. You bump against the broken coffee table, pull away from his mouth to curse and rub your shin, but then he’s falling back onto the couch, pulling you down into his lap so that your thighs are bracketing his legs.

You pause like that, looking at each other, both breathless and dazed, lips bruised.

“This what you want?” He asks again, placing his hand at your jaw gently. His fingers are thick, hand so large that his thumb rests at your temple and while his index finger sits under your chin.

“I want you, Joel. Please.”

When he kisses you again, it’s hungry and animalistic. All pretence of hesitation is gone. He presses his mouth to your throat, lets his teeth scrape the delicate skin below your ear.

“This is still a bad idea.” He says, voice breaking when you roll your hips against his. ”Shit.”

“Please, Joel.” Your voice sounds tiny, shrill to your own ears, desperate and pathetic, but Joel bites at the juncture of your neck and it doesn’t matter, nothing matters except the feel of his hands on your hips, guiding you against him, pulling your clothed cunt against where he’s impossibly hard in his jeans.

“I’m gonna take this off.” He says, pulling at your shirt, tugging it up over your head. “And this.” He runs a hand over your covered tit, pinches your nipple beneath the thin fabric of your bra, rolls it between his finger and thumb while his other hand slides up your back and unclasps it. It falls between you, forgotten immediately.

“Fuck, darlin’, look at you.” He says, running the knuckle of his index finger over the swell of your chest, down along your ribs and across one hip. He lets his hand fall away, brings it back up to the side of your face, pulls your lips back to his and drags your bottom lip into his mouth with his teeth.

Pain and pleasure blossom through you, make you scrabble at the buttons of his shirt, fingers shaking as you try and get them undone. He helps, slides the shirt off of his back, careful where his shoulder is still sore. He balls it up and casts it across the room, then grips your hips and lifts you, turning you onto your back on the sofa, pressing himself between your open thighs. The change in angle presses the seam of your jeans against your clit, a jolt of pleasure rocking through you.

“You ever done this before?” He asks, hovering over you, dipping down to press a chaste kiss against your collarbone.

“I ain’t that innocent, Joel.” You reply, gasping when he pulls your nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his teeth. “Have you?”

This earns you a deep chuckle, a hushed whisper against the back of your neck, “I’ve been doing this since before you were born, baby.”

And, fuck, that shouldn’t turn you on so much but it does. It has your hips lifting up, seeking out friction. Joel notices and slides down your body, dropping onto his knees on the floor. He runs one hand up the inside of your thigh, presses his thumb expertly against your covered clit.

“I’m gonna take these off now, and then you’re gonna come on my tongue. That sound okay?”

You nod, voice lost as he undoes the button on your jeans and pulls them down in one motion, pushing them away in the direction of his discarded shirt.

“Look how wet you are for me already.” He glides two fingers over the front of your soaked underwear, up to the waistband to hook them off.

And then he leans forward, presses light kisses up your thighs until he reaches your cunt. He pauses, blows a cool strip of air against you that has you trying to close your legs, but his hands are there, pinning them open for him. When he seals his lips over your clit and drags his tongue over it you thread your fingers through his hair, pull at the black-grey strands. You squeeze your eyes shut but he pulls away, chastises you gently.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart.” His voice is like molten chocolate, rich and dark, pulling you back so that you gaze down at him.

He swipes his tongue over your slit, gathers the slick that’s pooling there. He’s like a man possessed, eyes dark, hair standing up on end from where you’ve run your hands through it, cursing and moaning as he slides his tongue over your clit, starting up a firm and consistent rhythm that has you bucking against him. His hands are gripping your thighs hard enough to leave bruises, his forearms corded with muscle, biceps flexing up to those impossibly broad shoulders.

“You gonna come on my tongue?” He asks, hardly breaking away from you to grunt out the question.

“Yes, Joel, fuck, please.” You can’t seem to form a coherent sentence, can hardly force yourself to keep your eyes on him where he kneels between your thighs like you’re an altar and he’s a lonely priest begging for repentance. It’s this thought – the idea of him worshipping you, tongue lapping over your clit, his eyes blazing with lust – that tips you over the edge. Your cunt clenches around nothing, body wracked with pleasure as you come, hard, on his tongue. He grins into your cunt as he feels you come apart against him, continues pressing sloppy, wet kisses to your pussy as you come down from the high, limbs shaking. When you finally push him away, overly sensitive and buzzing with pleasure, he rocks back on his heels, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Your pleasure is painted across his face, his greying stubble wet with your slick.

He crawls back up onto the couch between your thighs, dips his head to kiss you. You taste yourself on his lip; on his tongue when he sweeps it against the back of your teeth, heady and sweet. He presses himself against you, drags the front of his jeans over your bare skin. The buckle of his belt catches against your bare stomach and you hiss into his mouth, reach down to unbuckle it. It comes off easily, falls to the floor with a dull thud, and then you slip your fingers through the buttons of his jeans, undo them quickly, desperate to get them off. He stands briefly, pushes them the rest of the way down his thick thighs and then kneels back between your legs. Immediately you slide your hand into the waistband of his briefs. He feels like velvet wrapped around steel, hot and delicious in your fist. He groans into your mouth as you palm him desperately, sliding delicate skin over the head of him, feathering the pad of your thumb against his slit. When you draw his cock out you break away from his needy mouth to look. He’s big: thick, curving slightly to the left, head already weeping precum.

“Fist feels so good wrapped around my cock, sweetheart.” He tells you, “You gonna let me fuck you?”

It’s the easiest yes you’ve ever given. He chuckles darkly at your needy reply, pushes his briefs the rest of the way off and wraps his own fist around his cock. He slides himself over your cunt, coating himself in your juices. Then he’s notching the blunt head of his cock against your entrance, sucking in a breath as he pushes in gently, slowly, stretching you out deliciously.

“Good girl,” He murmurs, easing himself deeper, feeling you flex and clench around him, “good fucking girl.”

He stills when he’s fully seated inside you, sucks at a spot under your jaw that makes you gasp with pleasure, runs one big palm up your body to paw at your breast, trying to collect himself, twitching inside you with the effort of staying still.

“Cunt’s so goddamn tight, baby.” His voice is broken, pitchy and breathy against your ear.

You run your hands over his back, feeling out the breadth of his shoulders, the thin scars that lace across them, his muscles bunching and flexing beneath your fingers when he finally – finally – starts to move inside you, rocking his hips into yours, dragging himself all the way out and then gliding back in. The head of his cock hits something inside you that sends white hot pleasure jolting through your belly. The cabin is silent now – the rain has stopped – the only sounds are your frantic breathing and low, breathy moans, and Joel’s whispered praises as he rocks against you.

Good girl, so fucking good for me, letting me fuck you like this, cunt so tight around me, could come just thinking about it.

It’s dirty and sloppy and fucking incredible. The power you’ve seen him exert on infected and drunkards and raiders suddenly coiled over you, his muscles pulling you taunt against him when he changes the angle, sits up, pulls you with him so that you’re riding him, his cock somehow buried deeper in your cunt, your thighs bracketing him. You can feel yourself growing closer to release again, pleasure notching up in your belly like fire spreading. Joel shifts slightly again, makes space for his hand to come between you, places his thumb against your clit and presses, draws out slow, gentle circles that match the pace of his thrusts.

“Need my thumb on you clit while my cock’s buried inside you, sweetheart? Gonna come again just like this, huh? Dirty fucking girl.”

His words are like fuel on the fire and within seconds you’re moaning and shaking, cunt clenching around him as you come, harder than before, on his cock. Joel fucks you through it, keeps the steady pressure on your clit.

“Gonna make me come in this tight little pussy,” He says, and you know you shouldn’t, know you should make him pull out, but he feels so good inside you that you grind down on him telling him yes, please, fist your hands into his hair to pull his mouth against yours. The kiss is desperate and messy, all teeth and tongue. He hisses into your mouth as you buck your hips and drive them down on him, and then he’s swearing, fingers digging hard into your hips.

"Jesus, you feel so fucking good, baby, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna- shit.” He pulses inside you, painting your cunt with his come, hot and wet inside you.

You continue rocking against each other, slowly, coming down from the high. When he slides out of you and shifts away the old sofa groans out in protest, springs creaking. It makes you laugh, breathless, racking laughter than drives away the sudden realisation of what you’ve just done, of how you’ve indelibly changed the way you look at each other, the relationship between you.

“That was… fucking hell, Joel, that was incredible.”

He’s looking at you sideways, his hair still a mess, stubble still coated with your slick. He’s naked and vulnerable and you think it might just be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. When he leans across to slot his lips against yours you grin against him, trying not to think about what happens next.

[supercorpkid]

Would it really kill you if we kissed? Part 2

Supergirl. Baby Danvers. Kara Danvers x B!D!Reader, Alex Danvers x B!D!Reader, Lena Luthor x Reader, Esmé Danvers

Word Count: 3010

Previously on part 1. Part 2 of 3.

You start spending more time with Esmé, filling your days with her endless energy and her excitement over everything new on this island. You’d planned on being here for the family time anyway, but lately, it’s become easier to dodge Kara’s concerned glances and Lena’s quiet observations. Esmé, at least, never asks questions you’re not ready to answer.

It doesn’t stop Kara from trying, though. You find yourself slipping out of family dinners early, ducking behind palm trees when you spot her coming your way, feigning sleep when she knocks on your door at night. You know it’s getting obvious—Kara’s face fell when you bailed on last night’s dinner, and Alex’s knowing sigh was almost loud enough to break through the silence you’ve wrapped around yourself. But would they even understand if you told them?

Esmé’s simpler. When you’re with her, it’s just fun, silly games and laughter that doesn’t get weighed down by questions. For now, you let yourself hide behind that. That is until Esmé notices, of course. Kids always do, with that unfiltered clarity adults forget to keep.

It catches you by surprise when the two of you are building sandcastles, the sun heavy and warm, and she says, “I miss hanging out with Aunt Kara and Aunt Lena together. You know, like… like we used to.”

You tense, your hands pausing mid-sculpt. “They’re busy with grown-up stuff. It happens.”

Esmé gives you a look, so knowing it’s almost painful. “You’re a bad liar.”

You sigh, brushing sand from your fingers. “I guess I am.”

“Is it because of that thing you can't tell Aunt Kara, but you can tell my mom?”

It takes you by surprise, the perceptiveness of it, the way she’s pinpointed exactly what’s unraveling between you and your sisters without even understanding why. You swallow, forcing a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “Sort of.”

“I wish I had a sister. If I did, I'd tell her everything! And she would be my best friend!”

"Well, your mom is my best friend and she is my sister too."

She spares a look over her shoulder, to Kara on the other side of the beach swimming alone in the ocean. "I bet Aunt Kara feels lonely."

It’s… whoa. A lot more insightful than you'd expect from a six-year-old.

Kara’s attempts to reach you haven’t gone unnoticed. She’s patient, but only for so long, and it’s clear to everyone around you that you’re holding her at arm’s length.  But what's worse is that you avoid Alex too, because you don't wanna tell her what happened. She's gonna tell you that you missed your chance to come clean, which is obvious and yet extremely unhelpful. 

It’s so evident you're keeping your distance, that when Lena finds you sneaking behind a bush one evening, she doesn’t even act surprised.

"Hey!" Lena’s voice makes you jump, her warm presence somehow amplifying your guilt. "Why are you hiding behind a bush? And why does it feel like I haven't seen you in days?"

"What? It hasn't been days." It has. She raises her eyebrows, and you smooth your hands over your clothes. "I thought I saw a hedgehog," you lie, forcing a smile. She doesn’t look convinced. "What are you up to?"

"I thought you and I could go on a walk," she says, her smile soft, irresistible. You’re about to argue, but she throws a cheap shot. "You know, you did promise me some alone time."

"Did I?" You try a joke, but, as with the last few attempts, it doesn’t quite land with her.

"You don’t have to come if you're more interested in the hedgehog. I could probably hold my own against the wild animals in the forest."

"Yeah, I’m sure you can, but I’d hate to miss you fighting a snake, so I might as well tag along. Wouldn’t want to miss the show."

"Very kind of you, darling." Lena’s eyes light up with humor, and the two of you start toward the nearest forest trail. It’s close to the resort—too close for any real wildlife, which is probably the point.

The conversation is supposed to be casual, just friends catching up. She asks about your thesis, even a few things about your superhero life. But as relaxed as it should be, you can’t shake the tension simmering beneath the surface. Every laugh, every shared glance, every tiny silence, and you’re swallowing feelings, nearly choking on unsaid words. Your heartbeat drums in your ears, terrified that one slip-up could give everything away.

"Kara is so thrilled to have you to share these experiences with. I bet it’s lonely, having to figure out this superhero lifestyle on your own."

"I don’t think I’m helping that much, to be honest. I’m just… following her lead most of the time."

"I think you're more important than you give yourself credit for." Lena touches your arm, her eyes soft and unwavering, making it impossible to shrug it off. "For everyone, not just Kara."

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” You mutter the words with such disbelief that Lena almost flinches.

She doesn’t let it go, though. She stops, making you pause too, her expression puzzled but determined.

"Y/N, darling." Just one word—darling—and your heart is pounding, each beat a tiny betrayal. "You know I mean it, right? We wouldn’t miss hanging out with you so much if you weren’t—"

"So fun to have around!" you cut in, your voice unnaturally bright.

Lena reaches for your hand, her gaze softening in a way that makes it impossible to hide. "If you weren’t so incredibly special."

This is it—the moment you could be honest, vulnerable, bare open like she is. But Kara might be in love with her. And she’s probably in love with your sister too, because who would choose you over Kara? No one. Not even you.

So you bite your tongue, force a smile, and watch the moment slip past. “Yeah, I—I don’t know. Maybe the superhero life just isn’t for me.”

“Oh.” Lena blinks, visibly thrown, and when you realize what you’ve just said, it’s too late. Can’t take it back. You’ve tried so hard to hide how you feel about her, you didn’t even think about the other secrets you need to protect.

“Not that I’ll stop!” you rush to reassure her. “I’d never stop supering and leave Kara to it. I just… wonder, sometimes. But, um, everyone wonders about things they’ll never act on, right?”

You can feel Lena’s gaze linger on you as you stumble through your words. Her silence feels weighty, loaded with questions she doesn’t voice. Instead, she’s watching you with that careful, gentle look she has—the one that makes you feel like she can see straight through every defense you’re barely managing to hold up.

“Y/N,” Her voice is low, softer than usual, and you can tell she’s choosing her words carefully. “If you ever feel like talking… Really talking, I mean—I’ll listen, you know that, right?”

You breathe deep, trying to keep your expression neutral, but the way she’s looking is too much; she’s seeing right through you, and every instinct you have screams to deflect, to put distance between you and that sharp, all-seeing gaze.

“I know, Lena. I just—” You pause, forcing the words clawing up your throat back down, swallowing hard against the sting of tears that threaten to break free. “I don’t have much to say right now, but… thank you.”

Her fingers brush down your arm slowly, lingering for a split second before letting go. She doesn’t push, but there’s something in her eyes, something searching, that leaves you feeling bare. She’s not fooled, you know that. But she doesn’t press further, only offers a soft nod.

“I just want to make sure you know that you’re not alone.” Her voice is so gentle, it makes your throat tighten.

Her words land with a bittersweet ache, a reminder of exactly how not alone you actually are—and yet, how impossible it feels to share any of it. You swallow, nodding a little too quickly, desperate to end this before you give yourself away completely.

“I appreciate it,” you mumble, unable to meet her eyes. “Anyway, uh… we should head back before it gets dark.”

A tiny smile curves her lips, one filled with patience, and it only makes the weight in your chest feel heavier. She sees through you, sees the things you’re too afraid to say. And as you walk back, her presence beside you is both comforting and unbearable, the knowledge that she’d listen if you let her like a gentle but relentless pressure against the wall you’re so intent on keeping up.

When you finally reach the resort, you mumble something about needing to freshen up before dinner, ducking away before she can say anything else. But her words stay with you, lingering in the back of your mind: you’re not alone.

Even though you've never felt as lonely and isolated as you do now.

This trip, this whole thing, was a really bad idea.

You throw together your bag in a rush, moving faster than any human eye could see. This trip was supposed to be a break, a chance to breathe—but with each day, it feels like the land on this tiny island is getting even smaller. There’s nowhere left to hide, and the weight of your secrets presses harder, threatening to escape the moment you open your mouth. It almost did with Lena, so you desperately need to leave.

You knock lightly on Alex and Kelly’s door, hoping not to wake Esmé. It’s late, but Alex answers quickly, slipping out into the hall and shutting the door quietly behind her. She gives you a concerned once-over, her expression softening in that big-sister way.

“What’s wrong?” she whispers. “Lena said you two hung out before dinner, but then you didn’t show up—”

“I’m going back to National City.” You say it quickly, barely letting the words settle before you look away, as if that might make it easier. Alex’s eyes shift down to your bag, and she lets out a long, disappointed sigh.

“You can’t keep running forever, you know.”

“No, but I can tonight.” You set your jaw, bracing yourself. Alex is going to try to talk you out of this, and you can’t let her. “I’ll help keep watch over National City with J’onn and M’gann. Say goodbye to Esmé for me.”

“Absolutely not. You want to leave her, you tell her yourself.” She opens the door a fraction, enough for you to glimpse Esmé’s little sneakers by the bed, and you feel something twist painfully in your chest. She knows it’ll be harder for you to look Esmé in the eye, to break your promise of a trip full of fun with her favorite aunt. “Man up.”

“Sexist,” you mutter, half-heartedly, as you step inside. But before you can call for Esmé, you freeze. Kara is sitting on the floor, her gaze sharpening the moment she sees you.

“You’re leaving?” She stands up, arms crossed, and in that moment, she doesn’t look much like your sister—she looks every inch of Supergirl, unyielding. Kelly clears her throat, mumbling something about checking on Esmé before slipping out of the small living room.

“Yeah, I have this… thing.”

“Is this ‘thing’ called a massive crush on Lena that you’re too scared to deal with?” Kara’s voice is quiet but piercing, an eyebrow arching as she studies you, making you feel as transparent as glass. “Or is this ‘thing’ a problem you’ve got with me?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Oh yeah, I forgot everything has to be about you.”

Before you can get another word out, she’s right in front of you, moving faster than even you expected.

“It’s becoming about me because you keep dodging me and shutting everyone out,” she says firmly. “You have to stop running, Y/N. Why won't you deal with your problems like an adult?”

“Oh my God! Is there a version of this conversation where you don’t sound like my mother?”

“I don't know. Is there a version where you don’t sound like a moody teenager?” She fires back, voice sharp as a blade.

"Go to hell, Kara," you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper, knowing full well she’ll catch every word. You try to push past her, but she steps in your way, resolute, daring you to challenge her. Fine. If she wants a fight, you’ll give her one.

“Stop acting so tough,” you say, each word sharp and unyielding. “You’re not Alura. You’re not Eliza. You’re not even my oldest sister.” You pause, just long enough to let it sink in, to make sure she feels the sting. "You don’t get to act like you’re in charge."

Kara flinches, just a fraction, but you catch it. And part of you hates that it hurts her—almost as much as the rest of you wants it to.

A hand catches your arm as you make to leave, and you know it’s Alex without even looking. Her grip isn’t harsh, but it’s inflexible, the quiet authority of someone who knows exactly what they’re doing.

“This has gone too far.” she says, her voice low.

“Alex,” you say, a warning lacing your tone. But your sister doesn’t budge. She’s as immovable as Kara in her own way, and you can tell from her stance that she’s done letting this slide.

“No. You tell her now, or I will.” The seriousness in her voice roots you to the spot, and you stare at her in disbelief. “Don’t test me, Y/N. This has gone on too long.”

“Alex,” you plead, the warning fading, replaced by something that feels like betrayal. “I trusted you.”

But Alex’s stance only hardens. She glances at Kara, crossing her arms in front of her chest, each movement deliberate, telling you in no uncertain terms that this is the line she won’t let you cross.

“You want to know what’s going on?” your voice comes out loud, it's almost a yell in the quiet of the night, voice cracking as you throw the question back at them, your fists clenched so tight they’re shaking. “Fine. Let’s do this. You want honesty? Here it is.”

Kara and Alex fall silent, but they’re staring, eyes wide. You can’t tell if they're surprised or concerned, and for once, you don’t care.

“I’m in love with Lena,” you spit out, practically choking on the words. “There it is. Happy? But it doesn’t matter, because she’s yours, Kara. Everyone is. Everyone who matters, everyone I could ever care about, they’re all yours.”

“I don't—” Kara starts, but you’re not finished. Not even close.

“Don’t!” you snap, cutting her off. “You have no idea what it’s like to be around you, day after day, having to act like it doesn’t kill me. Watching you looking at her like… Like I do. And I just—” Your voice wobbles, a tremor of frustration bubbling up with the tears you’re fighting to keep down. “I just get to stand there and smile and play the part of your perfect little sister, like I should just be grateful to even be a part of your story.”

Alex takes a step toward you, hands up, but you move away, barely holding it together, so you don't hurt her. “Do you know how exhausting it is? How much do I dread putting on the suit, being the hero, pretending this is all I ever wanted? Because it’s not. It’s never been. I hate it," your voice comes out so raw, your throat hurts afterwards. "and I can’t even tell anyone that because you’d all look at me like I’d failed you. Both of you would.”

Alex steps back the slightest, her face twisted in a mix of surprise and sadness. Kara looks stricken, her mouth parting like she wants to say something, but you don’t give her the chance. You’re too far gone, the anger pushing past your better judgment.

“You get to be perfect, and I get to be… what? The second-rate version of you? The one who’s not quite as brave, not quite as good?” You only realize you're crying when you taste your own tears. “The one people don't even glance at because they are too busy looking at you — the super girl. And now you want me to watch you with the person I love too? You just get to take everything.”

"That's not true! None of it is—" Kara reaches out, but you take a step back, hands up like it’s a shield. 

“You don't get it! So don’t—just don't.”

Her expression crumples, and for the first time, you see the real hurt reflected back at you. But the ache inside you is too loud, too sharp to ignore. A small part of you feels vindicated, glad that she’s hurting too—at least now you’re not the only one carrying the weight of pain.

You turn away, ready to escape the suffocating atmosphere, but Alex’s voice cuts through the tension, pulling you back.

"Y/N, wait." Alex tries, voice sweet like you didn't even know she could master. "Let's all take a breath and just… talk about it."

"Oh no," You turn to her. "you don't get to do this. I trusted you with this, and you just—” You can’t find the words, the tears breaking free, your voice shaking. "You just chose Kara over me. Like everyone does. So you don't get to ask me for anything." The next words leave from the depths of your core, it shakes the entire room. "NONE OF YOU get to ask me for ANYTHING!" 

Sometimes hours can feel like minutes, and sometimes a single second can last a lifetime.  "I'm done pretending we're one big happy family." This is it. This is that second. The second you burned every bridge, every connection you've had and flew away from it.

[penkura]

last forever [7/13]

Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed with the caveat of ending it via annulment once you received word from your parents regarding the original engagement, despite your growing feelings for your close friend.

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami later (like epilogue later so chill)

Warnings: Marriage of Convenience, Fake Marriage, referenced sex (waaaaaay later on), mutual pining, Zoro is bad at feelings but what's new there, eventual romance I promise, mention of past attempted assault (I'll warn in that chapter), creepy older dude later on

Note: I apologize for glossing over and skipping fights and so much of this arc. Writing violence is not my forte, and I'd rather focus on the main relationship. We all know how One Piece goes anyway. I had to go back and refresh myself on some of the details, it's been a while since I read/watched Water Seven and Enies Lobby.

But also, I was SO NERVOUS writing a certain part of this, its NOT my usual style omg. But I needed to write what I did when it popped into my head. Just wait until a bit later, though omg. This stays SFW, I swear.

Taglist:

@misfits1a

[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2] ● [Ch. 3] ● [Ch. 4] ● [Ch. 5] ● [Ch. 6]

When you finally make it to Water Seven, after your run in with the Foxy Pirates and Admiral Aokiji, it’s nice to be somewhere you recognize. Having only been here a few times when your dad had business and he chose to bring you and Elias, it was always your favorite trip to take when your mother would let you tag along.

The only person who knows this at first, apart from Zoro, is Sanji, when you choose to go into the city with him as Zoro watches the ship; Luffy, Nami, and Usopp go to exchange the gold for actually money, and Chopper goes with Robin to find a bookstore. Sanji laughs a bit when you tell him you’ve been here a few times, give or take.

“You may have been a bit sheltered, but you were well traveled!”

Laughing in return, you tighten your arms around Sanji, laying your head on his back as your Yagara ride continues down the water street, watching all the people. It’s been so long, you forgot how lively this city was.

“Mom would always try to make me stay home with her, but I’d cry and throw a tantrum until she let me go, normally because my brother asked for me to. I was a little spoiled back then by Elias.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Sanji looks over his shoulder to give you a smile, “You were the baby, that’s expected.”

“Tch, yeah,” scoffing, you don’t look up at him, “The baby no one but my brother really wanted.”

He doesn’t say anything, instead just patting one of your hands, which makes you fist his shirt in your grip for a moment before relaxing again. Sanji knows more about your life growing up than most of your crew, only Zoro really having the nearly full story. Even then, you’ve kept somethings to yourself, not because they were painful memories, but because they were some of the few good times you remember, they were more precious to you than any other memories.

The two of you quickly find the shopping district and purchase copious amount of local foods, Sanji reeling off different ideas for dishes as he catches sight of Robin, grabbing your hand to drag you along and around a corner he swears to you he saw her go down, but she’s nowhere to be seen and neither is Chopper.

Your doctor does find you both a few moments later, apologizing on your way back to Merry for losing Robin, but you tell him not to worry, she can take care of herself, she’ll come back later.

When you get back to Merry, the update Zoro gives you feels like a knife in all your hearts. 

“What do you mean Merry is unfixable?!”

“Just what I said,” Zoro doesn’t fully look at Sanji, instead making sure you’re all right with the news, though the frown and starting of tears tell him you aren’t, “A shipwright came to check and said so.”

You hate the idea of having to give up Merry, whether that’s what Luffy’s decided yet or not, you aren’t sure, even as Nami returns and the situation gets worse with Usopp having been beaten by the Franky family and the two hundred million beri being stolen from him. The money didn’t matter, what mattered was Usopp, the rest of your crew going to find him and Luffy but Nami clinging onto you to stay with her, which you do to keep your friend safe.

The rest of the day is a blur, after Usopp is brought back, his fight with Luffy over Merry, and how quickly the rest of you leave to a hotel in the city. Some would probably think it’s strange that you’re holding so tightly to Zoro the whole time, rarely letting go of his arm, but you feel like you need some stability with how things have changed so much in just a day. You all still don’t know where Robin’s gone, you plan to go with Sanji and Chopper later the next day to try and find her.

For now, Zoro doesn’t mind you holding onto and staying by him. He tries to understand, it’s likely you’re thinking back to your parents, having told him of how they’d argue regarding you mostly, Elias being your safe haven who would remove you from the situation for safety.

Part of you doesn’t want to sleep that night, but Zoro makes you, forcing you to lay down. Really you’re worried you’re going to wake up and everything’s been a dream, none of your friends will be there, but Zoro, who you fully are coming to believe can read your mind, pokes you in the forehead before sitting by your bed with his back to you.

“Just sleep. I’ll be here in the morning.”

Every part of you believes him, you’ve got nothing but trust in Zoro.

+!+

With everything that’s happened involving Robin, your crew, Galley-La, and the Franky family, you’re surprised you’re even still on your feet as you follow everyone into Enies Lobby. You’d barely slept the night before and have been awake since early the previous morning, ending up following Sanji to the sea train that was taking Robin from you all. You fight alongside him, Franky, and Usopp, er, Sniper King, to try and reach Robin, only to lose her again in exchange for your own lives.

After the Rocketman train catches up to you and the four of you board it, Nami throws a towel over you since you’re sopping wet from the rain, and you start to draw yourself back from everyone for a few moments. You just need a bit to catch your breath, to keep yourself from crying due to how tired and upset you are. It’s going to be another sleepless night as you listen to everyone try and plan how you’re all going to attack the government island, you want to rescue Robin as soon as possible, even for the selfish reason of being able to sleep properly. Zoro tries to keep you out of the plan discussion, making you sit down and rest as much as you can, giving you water and sending you the slightest of glares if you try to get up too soon.

“Stay there, wife,” he’s quiet while he tells you to stay where you are, trying to keep his slip up of calling you his wife from those who don’t and shouldn’t know, “Rest until we get there. We’ll get Robin back.”

A slight smirk hits your face as you look up at him. “Trust her now?”

Zoro shrugs a bit, leaning on the wall beside you. “I guess. I trust you and Luffy more. But if you don’t rest, it doesn’t matter who I trust.”

Ah, that makes sense, why he’s trying so hard to make you take a break, other than you’re being up for so long now.

You’ll be useless in the fighting if you aren’t as prepared as you can be, if you haven’t had any kind of rest and keep worrying over Robin and everyone else. Even when you get there, convince Robin to let you all rescue her, most of your body wants to give up and stop, but you keep going, keep running to save her with everyone else.

You don’t really mean to get separated from everyone when you go to find the CP9 members who have keys that could open Robin’s sea prism stone cuffs, but it happens and you’re left defending yourself.

A few Marines get a little too close for comfort, but you cut them down fairly quickly, before going the other way from where you came and laughing to yourself at the same time.

I’m starting to take after my husband after all.

+!+

You’ve all returned to Water Seven after rescuing Robin from the government, you’ve maybe given her numerous hugs since even though its only been a couple of hours, and your unfortunate burial of Merry that’d left most of you in tears but all of you heartbroken. So much had happened that you had to step away from everyone for a bit, while there were discussions of what to do next although Luffy had once again fallen asleep from overuse of his powers.

Truthfully you wish you could go to sleep, you’ve been awake for well over twenty-four hours at this point, it would be nice to curl up in a bed and sleep the next several days. Its times like this that make you really wonder if you’re meant to be a pirate, maybe you should just go home and do what your parents want.

“Hey, you okay?”

Then Zoro finds you like always, quietly speaking to keep the others from eavesdropping, though Nami tries, a hand on your shoulder, this time he seems to grip a little tighter than before. You know him well enough at this point, there’s just the slightest hint of worry on his face as he looks at you, brows furrowed just a bit. Zoro knows you just as well, you step away like this when things start to get to be too much, you just need a few moments to clear your head and breathe, and since you’ve had that, you give him a real smile.

“I’m okay.”

“Are you really?”

You nod, Zoro doing the same in return as he knows to believe you, before surprising you by gently taking you face in his hands, as if he’s making absolutely sure that you’re telling the truth.

Having lost track of you while he’d gone on to fight the CP9 members to get Robin’s key, his mind kept wandering to where you’d gotten off to, if you were safe, if you were fighting someone or multiple marines, he really hoped you weren’t against a CP9 member. You had to stay safe, no matter what, you and Robin were his biggest concerns at the time. When you randomly ran into him, Sanji, and Usopp, he was surprised by the relief he felt to see you were a little banged up but otherwise perfectly fine. He’d made you let him carry you on his back the rest of the way, until you got to the ship and were able to safely be on the ground again. He’d barely let you out of his sight since then.

Zoro doesn’t make whatever worry he had about you obvious, only looking like he’s fighting to find something to say while he holds your face and you continue to smile, tilting your head.

“Zoro?”

“Glad you’re okay.”

Giggling a bit, you nod before wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug, your exhaustion and the fears and worries you’ve had the last few hours finally coming to surface while you hug Zoro, making him do the same lightly, to keep you from embarrassing yourself in front of the others while you cry quietly, though you know they wouldn’t care or judge you.

You’re glad Robin is back, everyone is safe and alive, you all may have lost Merry but you’re coming to terms with it.

But most importantly to you, Zoro is safe, and to him, you’re safety is just as important, even if he barely voices it. The last thing he wants is for you to be harmed, in anyway by anyone.

He'll be especially damned if it’s by his hand so he comforts you the best he can, until you’re calmed down enough to rejoin your crew, staying beside him.

He doesn’t make you release his hand as you grip onto it, instead squeezing it back whenever you do so. When you lean into his arm later on, he lays his head against your own, telling you to go ahead and sleep, he’ll get you to a bed. You make him promise to stay with you that night, and he does once everyone goes to turn in, not leaving your side for even a second.

He’ll make sure you stay safe.

+!+

Zoro isn't sure how you two ended up away from the rest of the party. Too much alcohol, yes, but his tolerance is higher than a normal person's. He knows better than to wander off like this, but you took him by the wrist and walked away with a new bottle of sake in your hand, convincing him that it would be good to get away from the noise and everyone else.

You don't normally drink as much as he's seen you do today, he wonders if it's the alcohol that's causing you to giggle incessantly and steal glances at him every bit. Not like you had to steal glances, if you two had been talking you'd be looking at him.

But you'd barely said a word apart from when he asked why you were dragging him away from everyone else.

“Just want some quiet time, husband.”

Zoro never stops you from calling him husband, he's not sure why. Your marriage wasn't real, he should stop you from calling him that.

He should, but he never does.

He doesn't now, even as you lean against him and say “my husband” over and over again. It's only the moment you crawl yourself into his lap that he feels the need to stop you, despite knowing you're drunk or at the very least tipsy enough to not know what you're doing.

“Get off.”

He still doesn't push you off, he's not that heartless.

“Nooooo…” You whine and start to nuzzle your face in his neck, sighing happily after a moment. “My husband~”

“Ain't actually your husband, you know that.”

“But you're my husband still.”

“Stop it before someone sees.”

You pout, but lift your head up to look at him. Zoro can tell more so now that you're definitely drunk, you're more emotional than he thought you'd be. He always expected you to be a giggly or chatty drunk, not emotional to the point you're pouting but also looking like you might cry.

“You should...kiss me.”

“What.”

You nod, leaning closer and touching your nose to Zoro's, making him glance away from you just the slightest bit from the proximity despite the bit of pink across his cheeks that you can see. This is the closest you've let yourself get to him ever, even the nights you sneak into his bed from nightmares, you've never placed your face so close to his.

“You didn't kiss me…when we got married.”

“We're not actu–”

“I'll kiss you then.”

You close the gap for the quickest of seconds, kissing Zoro so fast it's like it didn't happen. Despite your drunk state your face burns with a blush and you apologize, you're not sure why you did that. Must've been the alcohol controlling you or something, that's your excuse. You're both quiet but neither of you moves for a moment, before you decide to get up only to have Zoro hold you in place by your shoulders. His brows are furrowed and you're not sure what's going on in his mind, before he pulls you back into a proper kiss, none of this tiny peck of the lips thing you'd just done. He kisses you fully and for more than a brief second, it's several seconds before he pulls away, leaving you both breathless and you personally shocked.

Shocked for just a moment before you take his face in your hands and kiss Zoro a third time, which he returns, surprising you when he wraps his arms around your waist and brings you closer to him (how you could even get closer when you’re already on his lap, you don’t know). You refuse to let him be the one to end this. You don't want this to end, it needs to continue, even if just for you. Even if all it does is make your feelings for him stronger, even if Zoro later tells you it was a mistake and he still held no romantic feelings for you, despite that fact he's so willingly returning such affection.

Even though, a moment later, Zoro pushes you away gently by your shoulders, neither of you able to breathe properly for a moment, catching your breath as your slowly sobering mind tries to play catch up with what the hell just happened.

You kissed Zoro, and he actually kissed you back. He didn't shove you off or yell at you or anything like that. He accepted it and reciprocated without a single word. You figured he would fight you about this, that he wouldn't accept it so easily.

Is this the progress you've been hoping for?

Once you've both caught your breath, Zoro doesn't even look at you, instead moves just enough that you get the hint and get off his lap finally. It's a few minutes of complete silence between the two of you, that has you confused. You thought things were changing, that you two were getting closer than you had been even before Luffy brought you along.

The fact he'd just kissed you back for several minutes it felt like, you thought maybe Zoro was going to confess to you, but when he still doesn't look at you, you attempt to bring him back by taking his hand, which he lets you for a moment before gently pulling his arm back to himself.

“Zoro…I…I'm sor–”

“I think…you should go to bed, [Y/N].”

“Do you,” you gulp a bit, looking away before you finish, “do you want to come with me?”

“No. That's not a good idea.”

You know this, who knows what trouble you'd bring to yourselves or the crew if you two went to your room together? Whose heart would be broken the next morning if you took things too far when you weren't fully sober? You didn't know, the thought of either of you being hurt made your heart ache and you couldn't bear the thought.

So, instead of trying to convince him things would be fine, you really just wanted to sleep with him next to you, you nod, standing up and dusting yourself off, grabbing the bottle you'd brought with you and looking at Zoro again.

“Are you–”

“Gonna stay here for a bit.”

It's all you can do to nod again, apologizing for pushing things too far before you turn and leave, doing your absolute best to keep your tears to yourself as you return to the party, giving Nami a small smile when she asks where you've been, promising her you'd just gone off to spend some time alone.

She doesn't believe you and intends to get all the information she can later, but she does give you a hug that nearly pushes you over, and says she'll beat up whoever made you sad, especially if it's Zoro, earning her a laugh before you return to your room at the hotel.

I wish he had come with me…

Truthfully you don't regret kissing Zoro, not even a bit. Despite his rejection of your feelings, the fact he so willingly kissed you back made you believe that maybe things were changing in your favor.

Perhaps it was because he was drunk, or maybe he was sober enough that he knew exactly what he was doing, especially when he denied returning to your room with you.

Either way, even with your heart aching from another rejection, it feels like you're making progress with Zoro and your relationship with him, little by little.

For his part of it all, Zoro stays in the same place you'd left him for nearly an hour, trying to calm his own racing heart after that exchange with you.

How he never thought of kissing you before, but now he didn't want to do anything but kiss you (it's the alcohol talking, he swears it is). You tasted like the sake you'd shared and whatever sweet wine Nami had convinced you to take several drinks of. A combination he never expected to be so nice, something he didn't think he'd want to taste again. The moment he thinks about it again his heart skips a beat, and Zoro puts head in his hands in an attempt to stop such feelings.

No, no, shit I gotta stop this.

He sighs and runs his hands through his hair, pulling it slightly to get those thoughts out of his head. Any focus on romance, on you he wanted out of his head. There's been too much of it lately, the want to stay close to you, to pull you away from everyone else, to give in and indulge himself in you alone. He'd told you nothing was going to happen and he had meant it.

But then you had to go and kiss him. The most innocent of kisses, a quick peck on the lips but he'd gone and pulled you back for more almost instantly. Then you made it worse by returning it again and holding his face this time, he didn't know why he enjoyed that so much. This whole thing was ridiculous, there's no reason for these feelings!

The only thing he could do to get some time to think was to push you away, refuse to join you when you went to bed. Who knows what would've happened if he had gone with you? Of course, he knew your thoughts were innocent, you'd shared a bed multiple times when you turned to him after nightmares, it was highly unlikely you were expecting anything more than to just go to sleep and wake up with a hangover, Zoro by your side in case of alcohol induced nightmares.

And he had made you go to bed alone.

That realization, for some reason, causes his heart to ache and Zoro has to finally admit what he's been trying not to, over the last several months, even with the more domestic thoughts he's allowed himself to entertain at times. Something he was hoping would fade away, would disappear over time like it always did for others, the feelings he's finally realized were going to be more long term than he expected.

Damn it all…I'm falling for my wife.

+!+

Contrary to what many may think, Sanji doesn’t particularly like being privy to romance gossip, not the kind involving his crewmates especially. He thinks that such things should be kept between a couple, so when he accidentally hears you telling Nami and Robin how you and Zoro finally kissed the other night, he’s less than pleased to hear it ended with your swordsman pushing you back, not taking you back to your room, or even staying with you for the night.

How unbelievably rude of him! To steal your first kiss, and not even walk you back to your room!

That’s what Sanji would’ve done. If any woman kissed him, he’d walk her back to her room or home, at the very least, to ensure she was safe and nothing happened. Zoro not doing that, when you were inebriated, when you could’ve been hurt or worse, it angers Sanji more than anything Zoro has or hasn’t done thus far. He views you as his best friend, he hates the way you and Zoro seem to get closer to a real relationship, only for something to happen or someone to intervene and ruin your progress. He’s been cheering for you from the start, ever since you confirmed your feelings for the swordsman, only to now wonder if it’s worth it for you.

If Zoro really is what you want and makes you happy, why does it seem like all you do lately is suffer?

Sanji doesn’t fully mean to give Zoro the cold shoulder this time, or even the suspicious looks he throws at him, but Zoro noticed quickly, before anyone else, and confronts him.

“What the hell is your problem, cook?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit, you’ve been giving me worse looks than normal.”

Sanji bites down on his cigarette, finally dropping the knife he’d been holding to face Zoro with a scowl.

“I heard you and [Y/N] kissed the other night—”

“Damn it.”

“—and you didn’t bother to take her back to her room?”

“What, is that my job now?”

“As her husband it should be!”

“I’m not really her husband! Damn it, this is stupid.”

Zoro goes to leave, but Sanji stops him by grabbing his sleeve, holding on and telling him to stop.

“Look, asshole. I could care less that you two are married, real or not, or that you kissed her,” Sanji grits his teeth, finally letting go of Zoro’s sleeve, “But if you break her heart, I’ll never forgive you, mosshead.”

While Sanji turns back to continue prepping for dinner, Zoro stops for just a moment. The two have had fights before, that’s obvious to anyone with a brain, but they’ve yet to fight about you. And he wonders why it's only now, after you kissed him, that Sanji seems so hell bent on protecting you, or maybe he's always been like this, it's just more on display as you and Zoro start to get closer.

“What’s your deal with her?”

“She’s my best friend, mosshead. I just want her safe and happy, even if it’s with you.”

He doesn’t say anything in response, leaving the kitchen to find you lounging with Nami and Robin, the three of you in some conversation when you look up and see him, giving a slight smile that Zoro returns with a nod, before heading off to the crow’s nest. What Sanji last said is stuck in his head, partially wondering if you told your cook what happened that night in Water Seven or if he was good at guessing, but that’s not the biggest thing he wonders about.

Would you really be happy with me, of all people, [Y/N]?

+!+

“All right, wait, so, you honestly kissed him?”

“Nami don't make me repeat myself.”

Nami laughs while Robin smiles, both amazed you got up the courage to kiss Zoro of all people. Yeah, you were tipsy at the time, even though Zoro still believes you were fully intoxicated, but you couldn't help feeling bad about it afterwards, just for a bit.

“I didn't fully think it through. I just…I don't know, I wanted to kiss him so I did.”

“I don't think he's too upset about it then,” Robin nods a bit, taking a sip of her wine, “You said he kissed you back, if he didn't push you away right off the bat, it sounds like he was positively receptive to it.”

“Yeah,” Nami quickly agrees, giving you a grin, “Sounds like you're getting yourself a boyfriend.”

“I don't think he wants that.”

“Well, what do you want? Maybe you guys could talk it through.”

What did you want? You thought you knew, to be a world renowned swordswoman, to help Luffy become King of the Pirates.

But what did you want from Zoro? Just to be with him, to stay married to him? Do you want to maybe have a family of your own with him one day? You'd had those thoughts when your feelings first started surfacing, after your impromptu wedding at that backwater courthouse. You'd stopped entertaining  thoughts for quite a while, but now, they're coming back more often.

More importantly, does Zoro want any of that with you?

“I…think… I want to be with him forever…”

Hearing Nami choke on her own drink, you give her a concerned look before she looks at you with wide eyes.

“You sound like you're in love with Zoro!”

You don't say anything for a bit, even with Nami and Robin looking at you like they're expecting you to deny such a thing. There was no way you were in love with Zoro, not at all. You two hadn't dated, your marriage was only temporary, it was meant to end as soon as you had something from your parents. You two weren't going to last forever, you weren't going to have kids together, live out your lives as a married couple. It wasn't happening.

No matter how much you may want it to. That's what Nami and Robin have come to think over time, from the things you've said to them.

“I am, Nami.”

Despite Nami's new outburst and saying she knew it with Robin laughing, you don't feel any kind of worry or fear about admitting your real feelings for Zoro. Neither of them would tell, your secret was safe as could be.

But for you, all you do is smile to yourself.

You love Zoro, more than anything. You've thought so for a while now, but finally voicing it aloud gives you a sense of peace and happiness. Whether Zoro ever returns your feelings or not, whether you two come to act as a married couple or not, you're more than happy to even stay by his side as his crewmate and friend. Even if you have to love him silently, you'd do so.

You'll hope he comes to love you back one day, but you won't force anything on him.

“I'm in love with Zoro.”

~~

Note 2: Me writing this: now KISS.

After writing: omg they kissed

[enjolraspermettendo]

Les Miserables Fanfic recs✨️

I tried to make a selection, my absolute favourites have a heart next to them ❤️, but my les mis fics bookmarks have 17 pages, so you know, there are still other amazing fics that i didn't include (part 2 maybe?). I also realised while making this list that most of these fics are actually very well known, but still, they're great 🤷‍♀️ I'm an angst enthusiast, be warned.

( I'm trying to also tag the tumblr accounts of the authors: if you are one of the authors and I missed your url and want me to add you or if you want me to remove you dont hesitate to contact me! )

❤️ World Aint Ready by idiopathicsmile @idiopathicsmile

Enjolras presses his lips together. He already looks pained, and Grantaire hasn't even opened his mouth yet. That's got to be a record, even for them.

"I need a favor," he says at last.

"With what?" says Grantaire. "Ooh, are you forming a cult? Can I join? I'd be awesome at cults, I just know it." He ticks off his qualifications on his fingers. "I love chanting, I look great in robes—"

(High school AU. Grantaire the disaffected stoner is pulled into a cause bigger than himself. Or: in which there are pretend boyfriends for great justice.)

Part 1 of World Aint Ready-verse

To Fold the Sheet by Lyres

“Can you say one good thing about the season?”

Holding out his soap-sud covered hands until Grantaire tosses a towel on top of them, Enjolras hums in thought. “Not really,” he says, once he's dried off. “Just don't have a lot of happy memories of summer, I suppose.”

(In which Grantaire attempts to make Happy Summer Memories, and Enjolras is endlessly patient.)

History of Melancholia by Squash (JeSuisGourde) @meta-squash

Grantaire deals with his depression by documenting it through photography as he and Enjolras try to wade through life with mental illness. It doesn't make it any easier for him or Enjolras, though. It's the blind leading the blind as they try to navigate the waters of depression.

A series of moments in no particular order, showing the paths that Grantaire's depression and addiction has taken him on and the ways he has tried to survive.

Submission (Going Down, Down) by ddeadkennedys

anyway, enjolras hated grantaire at first. enjolras isn't an asshole, he's not a gatekeeper or some sort of shitty elitist, but grantaire was uninspired, hopeless despite all that potential. a waste. but then that whole thing went down, and shit changed, and if grantaire thought he couldn't get enough of enjolras' attention before, now that enj is only mean to him for fun he's a fucking junkie for it.

Part 1 of the revolution is my boyfriend

Keep It Kind, Keep It Good, Keep It Right by lady_ragnell @theladyragnell

“You aren’t going to ask me if I’m okay?”

“You aren’t. Believe me, I know the signs.” Grantaire sighs, and his breath mists in the air like cigarette smoke. “They love you in there.”

“And out here?”

“You know that’s not a fair question.”

Forget Me Not by Opium_du_Peuple @just-french-me-up

Enjolras loses four years worth of memories after a nasty car accident. Though he still remembers who Combeferre and Courfeyrac are, he also finds himself with a herd of friends he doesn't remember meeting. Friends who are exactly what his blank mind needs to recollect his missing memories.

or : the amnesia fic no one asked for.

i'm not the moon (i'm not even a star) by serinesaccade @serinesaccade

“The amnesiac has questions,” says Grantaire. Boyfriend grips the wheel. “Don’t worry, we’ll start with the 200 dollar Jeopardy trivia.” A semi roars past them. “What’s your name?” The perfect sinew and bones of his fingers relax. “Oh,” he murmurs. Just like that, defenses lowered. “Enjolras.” “Cool,” Grantaire says. “I’m Grantaire.” Something happens to Enjolras’ face which, if you zoomed in, might be considered a smile. “I know.” “How long have we been dating, Enjolras?” The almost-smile is gone. The gameshow metaphor has become too apt; someone’s lost it all. “That’s complicated.” Well. Grantaire should’ve known some part of this fairytale was too good to be true. He’s best friends with a streetsmart renegade and someone who wrote him a welcome-back-to-consciousness poem in godawful blue icing on an orange frosted cookie cake. There are nearly ten people who were waiting for him to wake up in a hospital room. Of course his inexplicable relationship with his supernova hot, socially conscientious boyfriend is ‘complicated.’

thirteen days and fourteen hours and a dozen minutes by Potoo

"Enjolras,” Grantaire gasps as delicate fingers brush over his chest, an airy quality to them, “what do you want?” Because Grantaire would serve him the whole world on a silver platter, and it would never be enough.

“You,” Enjolras states, his voice clear and severe, “I want you.”

Enjolras discovers one by one what his friends think about Grantaire. He is rather surprised by their words.

Also: body worship porn.

Metropolitan Art by ryssabeth @avagueambitioninyourerection

Paris is his home.

❤️ Wrap your fingers round my thumb by Ibbyliv

When Éponine leaves in the morning, he’s already feeling much better. No really, he is. He makes a cup of coffee and even showers. The sun is shining brightly –even though it’s mostly late in the afternoon than morning but he has no one to apologize to, no reason to excuse himself for being a lazy ass and not finishing that painting for ages- and he’s humming a catchy tune that has been stuck in his head while he wipes his hair dry with a towel. He opens the door because he feels good enough to take the trash out, and everything’s alright, even the odor coming from the plastic bag, until he hears it.

It’s a cry, a wail, desperate and heartbreaking as if something tiny is trying to cause its lungs to explode and is on its way to success. Grantaire looks around, not willing to accept what he feels coming, before lowering his eyes on the floor. In this moment, Grantaire swears, he's so fucking wasted. * Enjolras leaves to work abroad for a year. When he returns, he finds out that there has been a new addition to their group.

A Series of Progressions by AnnaBolena @annabrolena

Modern AU in Paris in which most of Les Amis are students and all of them are sort of slow on the getting together aspect of relationships, with sociopolitical commentary and medical jabber peppered in between.

how sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame by Tegami @furtherfish

He could have shrugged and that would have been it. Say that he just found it precious. But Grantaire was Grantaire and he never could keep himself from oversharing and he was already dizzy with the way this night was going, so he told the truth. “The first thought I had when I read that poem was ‘If someone would ever call me “sweet boy” and mean it, I would probably pass out.’” OR: E & R are being ""casual"". Grantaire attempts to break some of their habits. Enjolras reads some angsty notes R left in his copy of Shakespeare's sonnets. Then they fuck

❤️ Hotel California by sunflowerbright

'You can check out, but you can never leave' - Reincarnation!AU

❤️ Paris Burning by thecitysmith @thecitysmith

In a world where cities are personified, the City of Paris has been missing for centuries, driven away by the horrors of war and the worst humanity has offered him. Enjolras dreams of meeting Paris, and leading him to a better tomorrow. What he doesn't know is that Paris is now a cynical drunk who calls himself Grantaire.

❤️ Thirty-Two Times by Ark @et-in-arkadia

Marius, looking chastised but sad, says, “Is there nothing then for romance, Enjolras? It seems a strange emotion to be struck with, distracting as a fever, if it means nothing.” It is Grantaire who answers first. “Nothing means anything, Marius,” says the cynic. “Yet who would ever die for his country if he did not love some person who lived within it?”

❤️ Once We're Kings by raeldaza

Their kingdoms have been at odds for centuries, so what will be a greater 'fuck you' than to send hapless knight Grantaire as their representative for Prince Enjolras's queen choosing ceremony before he is crowned King? Grantaire disagrees, but he doesn't seem to get much of a say in the matter. No one is really expecting anything to come of it, but trust Enjolras to defy expectations.

❤️ Your Heart on Your Skin by zade @racetrackthehiggins

Grantaire’s first flower appears when he is two years old. It’s late, for a First Bloom, considering some children are born with their First already etched above their hearts, but Grantaire’s parents are warm and loving and wait to see what sort of child they have born unto the world. His First Bloom, when it comes, is vibrant patch of yellow carnations. He is too young to know what it means, and his parents don’t tell him, just—withdraw, and a much smaller patch of yellow carnations appears on his mother’s ankle. -- Soulmate AU where things in your life appear as flowers on your skin, and people with hard lives have a lot of flowers to show for it

Tetris by chapstickaddict

Cosette is Enjolras' half-sister. His father slept with Fantine and then buggered off to be with his wife. Then Enjolras found out. One day he sees her- and he knows its her- and doesn't know what to do. Enjolras is Cosette's half-brother. Her mother slept with a married man and died of a broken heart and weary soul. Then Cosette found out. One day, she finds him-and she knows its him- and doesn't know what to do. Then Marius happened...

Silence Is the Speech of Love by lady_ragnell @theladyragnell

Grantaire's life has a pattern: he pays his respects to Aphrodite, he goes to work, he loves Enjolras and provokes him because he can't bring himself to do otherwise. That seems unlikely to change, at least until Enjolras speaks out against the gods and ends up cursed. Grantaire does his best to help him, but it turns out it's just as hard to love Enjolras up close as it is from afar.

Part 1 of The Speech of Love

❤️ I Believe In Nothing but the Truth and Who We Are by Whreflections

"Under the wine, Grantaire smelled like smoke and summer nights. His dark hair curled in a chaotic mess around his face, his neck below pale and soft. The first time they met, the first time he drew the scent into his lungs, he ached with the need to mark that stretch of skin, to card his fingers through Grantaire’s hair so very gently before tilting his head back so Enjolras might mark his bared throat and make his claim. He resisted then, telling himself that to act on instinct alone was the arena of an animal; he was a man of intellect, and he could choose." As an alpha, Enjolras has known Grantaire to be his mate since he first came to the Musain, a truth he does his best to bury. With his devotion already promised to France, he tells himself he cannot risk dividing his loyalties, cannot risk a bond that would pull so heavy on his heart. This is what he's told himself a thousand times, but when Grantaire needs him, his careful resolutions may not be able to hold against the strain.

His Love Letter by ShitpostingfromtheBarricade @shitpostingfromthebarricade

Your Wednesday regular appears right on time and orders the same thing as he does every week, but something's different today.

❤️ Here's looking at you by illuminate

“So domestic trouble rather than treason?” Floreal said. “I’m not saying one precludes the other.” Enjolras said, which came out more pained than he had intended. “Are you suggesting Grantaire sold national secrets to a crime lord because you were a bad boyfriend?” Floreal asked. Her tone was bemused, but there was a glint in her eye that turned the comment into mockery. “No.” Enjolras snapped, stung, and then didn’t say more. Spy AU. Grantaire removes his tracker and disappears the same night Lamarque is killed in his office. Enjolras is left behind, trying to figure out what happened and why Grantaire didn't tell him anything.

❤️ Meanwhile, A Glacier by standalone

“I’ll go.” He says it without brashness or deference. Just a statement. “Where?” “You want to climb the Forty,” he says, and Enjolras can’t deny it. “I’ll go with you.”

❤️ It's Not the Same Anymore by ShameDumpster @shamedumpster

Grantaire is a bookstore clerk in his late twenties, and to everyone’s eternal disbelief, a father. It’s been years since he’s seen anyone from his former group of friends, after a falling out cleaved him from the ABC, but everything changes when Enjolras walks into his bookstore. Can they rekindle their friendship, or something more, while they both come to terms with how their lives have changed over the past decade?

Part 1 of INtSA-verse

❤️ Combeferre's Tattoos by standalone

Enjolras clunked down three lowball glasses of whiskey and a bottle of soda water. “We have already established, ‘Ferre, his freedom to leave us. Can you please stop bringing it up and instead give him some incentive to stay?” Combeferre cocked his head to the side, as if amused at Enjolras’s crankiness. “Such as?” “He seemed to like you shirtless.” ‘Ferre nodded. “Then perhaps someone should take my shirt off.” or When the universe gives you Enjolras and Combeferre, who the hell are you to ask questions?

Part 1 of Tattoos AU

❤️ In Defiance of all Geometry by idiopathicsmile @idiopathicsmile

Amis House might not be the biggest student co-op, or the fanciest, but it's got something all its own. Specifically, smoke damage on the kitchen ceiling from that time Courfeyrac lit a political pamphlet on fire. In which there are secrets, pining, pancakes, and revelations, and sometimes the shortest distance between three points is not a triangle but a circle.

Part 1 of IDOAG-verse

❤️ We still got time (Raise your hopeful voice) by RavenXavier

“Excuse-you!” came Grantaire’s offended voice from the other side of the room. “I would make an excellent wife, Monsieur Lesgle, should I choose to! I have all the qualities of one!" (In which Enjolras slowly falls in love, and Grantaire takes the time to explore what feels right.)

Musagetes by defractum @defractum

"You've had sex," says Grantaire, just to clarify. He gives Enjolras an obvious look up and down, as if he's trying to imagine it right now: Enjolras having sex, Enjolras in the act of having sex. The curve of his mouth gives away his smirk; it's Grantaire though, so his smirk is two-thirds mocking and one-third self-deprecating. In which Enjolras has sex, has casual sex, and doesn't talk about it; in which Grantaire speaks better through art.

❤️ Through the Narrow Place by revolutionbarbie

“What brought you to Paris?” Montparnasse asked. “A train, ostensibly. And a bus.” Grantaire leaves Poland for Paris, content to remain alone forever if it means that he'll be safe. He goes to work and he comes home and he doesn't think about how few people there would be to miss him should he disappear. When he meets the Friends who gather and plot at the Cafe Musain, he realises how much he has been missing and though their leader is reckless and arrogant, Grantaire can't help but be drawn to him.

❤️ A Thousand Miles by kjack89 @kjack89

Some couples had a morning breakfast routine. For Enjolras and Grantaire, it was coffee. Come rain, shine, or hectic schedules, they still made time every morning to have a cup of coffee together. Sometimes that time saw Grantaire perching on the counter in the bathroom while Enjolras gulped his cup in the shower; other times, it was the two of them in bed long past when they were supposed to get up, wrapped in blankets and each other. Some days those precious few minutes were the only time they saw each other, and they treasured it. Even when Enjolras was out of town on business, they called or Facetimed each other to share their morning cup of coffee. It was the one consistency in their lives that Grantaire could count on.

❤️ Hēbē by illuminate

“You cannot feed on a citizen without their consent, because that would be an attack on their person - and their Rights, I am sure. But you cannot risk revealing your nature and so you cannot ask for permission. Luckily, you have me, who am already aware and quite willing.” The chair screeches loudly as Enjolras pushes himself away from the table. ”Come now, Apollo, let me be your cupbearer.” Grantaire implores; his tone somewhere between teasing and honest. “No, we are not doing that.” Enjolras growls. (In short: Enjolras has trouble feeding himself, because he is too busy planning the revolution. Grantaire finds out and is more than willing to help.)

Part 1 of cupbearer

Enjolras looks down at where Grantaire’s hand holds the pack against him and doesn’t bother to take hold. “If you were Combeferre,” he says, “this would be the part where you tell me these things will kill me.” “If I were Combeferre, I’d be inside and you’d be bothering someone else,” Grantaire snaps. He snatches the pack of cigarettes back and extracts one, leaving just two inside. It is with sharp, savage movements that he jabs it into his mouth, lights it with the silver Zippo, and then offers it to Enjolras.

love is in the air, i just gotta figure out a window to break out by tamquams

[puma-riki]

No One Noticed...

Synopsis: You've never seemed to make friends well. Sure, you had people you knew and were well acquainted with, but no one ever seemed to get closer to you or want to. You think that no one notices you and you'll continue the rest of your college years alone like all the years before. Except Ni-ki notices just about everything you do.

Pairing: Nishimura Riki x Fem! Reader

Genre: Fluff, Humor (or attempts at), slight angst, smau + written parts, idiots to lovers, university au

Warnings: consistent cursing, kms/kys jokes [Subject to change every chapter]

Characters: Enhypen (all), Eunchae (lesserafim),Keeho, Soul, (P1Harmony)

Status: Ongoing (Start: 092124)

Taglist: bee-the-loser iaintseggsy channieismylove yangjungwonnie luluvhs nikiswifiee kingofthekards skepvids sammie217 sh0dor1 sirens-dreams starfallia polarisjisung minhosimthings @mochiwonz @jiiyen @strawberrieswithchocolateo3o @stvrriki | Comment on any chapter from No One Noticed... saying you want to be added to the taglist!! or send me an ask !! | bold could not be tagged :c

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Masterlist | Previous | Next

04. HAPPY WEDNESDAY GUYS‼️‼️ + written

Campus Library 1:54pm

Ni-ki checked his phone for what had to be the 100th time since he took his spot leaning against the wall next to the library stairs. He hadn’t misread your texts, had he? Were you late? Or worse—were you already inside waiting while he was stuck out here, making him look like the kind of guy who didn’t care enough about his grades to show up for a tutoring session he asked for? That thought didn’t sit well, even if it wasn’t possible. Ni-ki had shown up 30 minutes early, too anxious to risk being late.

He opened his phone again, kicking at the small pebbles scattered across the pavement, He was about to send an SOS text to his friends' group chat when he heard a voice

"Are you out here waiting for me?" oh god it was you, he almost broke his neck, turning towards you.

You shifted the worn bag hanging on your shoulder, arms crossed against the breeze carrying the first hints of autumn. Ni-ki locked his phone and shoved his hands into the pockets of his green bomber jacket.

"Uh, yeah." He stood up from against the wall and shuffled his feet awkwardly, "I wasn't sure which study room we were using so, I just thought I'd wait for you to show up" His voice was quiet, and he felt it. This was the first real conversation you two had ever had—and the first time you’d ever looked directly at him.

"Oh, really?" You pouted slightly, your brow furrowing in confusion. Cute, he thought. "I thought I texted you the number. My bad." You walked past him, gesturing toward the stairs. "I’ll make sure I tell you next time, okay?" You smiled softly, tilting your head toward the stairs, signaling for him to follow.

You had only shown up ten seconds ago, and already, Ni-ki's heart was pounding.

He cleared his throat. "Kay," he mumbled, falling into step behind you as you made your way inside the library.

His nerves stayed with him as he climbed the stairs, especially knowing he would soon have to admit he was completely lost in biology—something you excelled at. He didn’t want you to think he was stupid.

After venturing into the library and ascending another flight of stairs, you pulled a keycard from the back pocket of your jeans and tapped it against the door to one of the study rooms.

“This room is reserved for the tutoring program specifically,” you explained, holding the door open for him with a smile. "So, we'll meet here for future sessions too."

Ni-ki felt like he was stepping into a padded cell. He was going to be alone with you in this room for 2 hours, how was he supposed to keep his cool and actually pay attention to the material instead of admiring you. He felt his hands start to sweat in his pockets as he took a seat at the long table sitting horizontally in front of the door after mumbling a shy thanks to you for holding the door for him. He sat his backpack down on the chair next to him as you did the same in the seat across from him.

"So," here came the embarrassment, "What exactly are you struggling with in bio." You gave him a quick glance as you dug in your bag for a notebook and pen.

Ni-ki wiped his hands on his jeans. “Well,” he started, feeling the familiar weight of self-disappointment in his chest, “pretty much everything, honestly.” His voice was quiet, the words almost painful to admit.

"That's okay! Biology is one of the harder classes, plus our professor is kind of a hard ass so it looks harder than it actually is." Your reassurance made his shoulders relax a little, and he let out a breathy laugh, your playful tone helping to ease his tension. You couldn't help but find him a bit cute.

“And it’s still early in the semester,” you continued, smoothing out your notebook page. “I’ll help you catch up.” Your encouraging smile sent a warmth through him. He nodded, wishing he could find his voice.

"Do you have any past quizzes and tests with you?"

“Yeah.” He quickly fumbled through his bag, nerves and the weight of your gaze making his hands clumsy as he pulled out a stack of papers littered with red marks. He felt a pang of embarrassment as he handed them over, watching you flip through his messy work. Red ink stained nearly every page, a reminder of how lost he’d been. He watched as you flipped through them, analyzing where he went wrong and where he had managed to get something right.

“Okay,” you said, setting the papers aside. “We’ll start from chapter one and work through it together. I’ll explain things differently from the professor and see if that helps.” You were already jotting down diagrams and definitions without needing to reference anything, working from memory.

"Okay, cool" he mumbled, trying to not make it obvious that he was taking deep breaths to calm himself down.

You smiled at his shyness, finding it endearing, "Okay so," You finished writing and turned your notebook towards him. As you began explaining biology’s chemical basis, Ni-ki found himself slowly relaxing, nodding along as the confusion in his mind started to unravel. Maybe tutoring wasn't as bad as he thought it would be.

Until you asked him a question.

Ni-kis mind went completely blank when his eyes met yours for the first time in the past hour. He felt heat creep up his neck and to his ears, luckily his hair had been long enough to cover it. he defeatedly admitted that he had no clue how to answer. his eyes downcast at the notebook and your hands instead of your face.

"That's okay! That's why I'm here to help you, you'll get better at it." The warmth in your voice surprised him. He was used to strict teachers, but you were different—gentler. he had partially expected you to be as uptight as some of his professors who would've grown impatient with his hesitation and wouldn't have responded so kindly.

You asked a few more questions throughout the session, and though he got most of the first ones wrong, you explained patiently each time, your soft smiles easing his nerves. When he did manage to get a few answers right, you brightened, praising him and diving deeper into the material. He felt his heart soar and warmth spread through his chest when you did so. With each moment, he felt himself relax, though he stayed shy, mumbling his responses and avoiding eye contact. You didn’t seem to mind, even though it was kind of hard to hear him, but you kept it professional and didn't say anything, not wanting him to feel more embarrassed.

"Okay, its 4:03. We can stop here." You say checking your watch. "Do you have any questions about anything from this chapter?" Your eyes meet his for a split second before he's averting his gaze from you and to a random corner in the room.

Ni-ki shook his head, "Not that I can think of,"

"Alright, then. Don't hate me for what I'm about to do" You tease, taking the notebook you both worked in for 2 hours and scribbling something down on a clean page.

Ni-ki raised an eyebrow, chuckling softly. "What are you doing?" He tilted his head to try and get a glimpse of what you were writing. after a minute you slide the notebook back towards him.

"Before Friday, try answering these questions so we can see if things are making more sense." You say, clicking your pen closed and putting it back into your bag. "You can keep the notebook, by the way."

"You're giving me homework?" He jokes, a pout forming on his lips, as he picks up the notebook and scans the questions you wrote down, there were only 5.

"I said don’t hate me!" you laughed. “Text me if you have any questions, okay?" you laughed lightly as you stood up and slung your satchel-like bag over your shoulder. You watched him nod, beginning to put the notebook in his bag with the rest of his stuff.

"Okay, I will, Thank you [name]" he gave you a friendly smile as you began pushing in your chair and made your way to the door.

"Of course, see you Friday Ni-ki!" you gave him a small wave and opened the door.

"See you Friday" he echoed after you. The door clicked shut and then you were gone, leaving him to sit with the fluttering in his chest.

[roxtron]

Day 5: Rabbit, Reclaim

AGJGDFJF FINALLY IT'S DAY 5 SO I CAN POST THIS

For some reason everytime i draw him he looks so young because i'm accidentally overcorrecting since i'm used to drawing older characters. So unfortunately he looks way younger than i meant him to lol, whoops.

But wait there's more- AHAHAHA

While I did initially plan this for GGY week I eventually got the idea to use this as an excuse to draw other GGY designs, soo..

(Not sure why tumblr formatted it that way with 1 of them big but it doesn't matter lol)

I've been wanting to do this for a while, I put the tags of each person next to their design but ofc I'm still gonna tag them in the post itself so you can see their art for yourself if you haven't already. But I enjoyed each of these in their own ways so if you don't mind I think I'm gonna type a bit of text next to them..

@chipistrate This was one of the first I drew out of these, the design was pretty fun to draw but sorry if I messed up a few details, it was a bit difficult lol. The mask and goggles are really fun to draw and they make for a cool design, along with all the glowing blue. (and yes, I tried to subtly include the heelies lol)

@lunzi0 This was the first fursuit one I did lol. I adore the little stars in the design, they personalize it so well and make it really unique. I wanna try this design again since I feel like the other ones show my improvement a bit better, but I hope you can appreciate the effort I put in on my first attempt <3

@carouselrabbit This one was really fun to draw, I absolutely love the eye shape/lashes, it stands out and I always love drawing eyes with a bit of eyeliner lol, the daycare theme legwarmers is a cool nod to the balloon boy arcade machine being connected to them, and was just a fun addition in general lol, I like the style of legwarmers what can I say, fnaf changed my fashion sense a bit. also the subtle paraells to freddy's design is a nice way to connect a bit to gregory himself.

@puhpandas I can't remember if I talked about this design last time I drew it but, overall I'm really happy with how this came out, it's such an indicator of improvement since I started drawing this and I'm glad I was able to draw it better than last time lol. All the patchwork and similarities to Vanny's suit work really well, and the rabbit you chose to base it off of was a good fit, the colors make it a bit more difficult to shade for but i like detail lol, hope you like it too :)

@dykevanny I knew I wanted to do this since I started but I wasn't sure if I'd have time, and I'm glad I did! I hope you don't mind I combined aspects from the first design I saw and the second one you replied to my ask with, I liked the big purple sleeves lol. (I just realized after doing all the shading I forgot to include the oil splatter on his jacket, sorry!) It was definitely a bit difficult due to the head shape being so different but.. fluffy. i love drawing fluff. And the glowing swirl on the goggles, the shape of the ears, I love a lot about this design. :D

I have a hard time with writing compliments but I wanted to get some of those thoughts out, some of the things I like about these designs apply to multiple lol. I adore every one of these designs but I find it hard to put into words what I enjoy about them, hope the original creators are happy with these. <3

I also kept the ggys without as much lighting effects on a separate file, I felt like I should add them since they're a bit brighter lol, makes them look different.

Okay now that I've gotten all that- Sorry this post is so long! I didn't think it'd end up taking up so much space lol. Buut.. working on this drawing and thinking about it and potential context behind it gave me an au idea for it, but I'll put it under the cut since I understand most people probably won't care and just wanna see the drawings lol.

Idk if I'm confident enough to write for it but I'll give a bit of a summary.. I'll keep it under the cut for people who aren't interested and just wanna see the art though lol.

After the main events of SB and Ruin, now that the mimic's been set free, Cassie's taken control of by what's left of Vanny, using her as a new host. But with Cassie being the only human left alive down there, after being reawakened, Dr. Rabbit has nowhere left to go but back to his old host.

Vanessa, Freddy, and Gregory hadn't gone back to the Pizzaplex after ruin, but they were trying to figure out a plan to get Cassie back safely. One night after Freddy and Gregory disappear, Vanessa leaves to go find them. As dangerous as the pizzaplex is, it's her best guess for where they might've gone. She doesn't want to think about what could've happened to them, in denial for the worst case scenario. She tries to keep herself calm by telling herself they probably just left to go back for Cassie, maybe they didn't want her stopping them.. but deep down she knows it can't be that simple. She knows something's off, even if she's not ready to admit it.

When returning to the pizzaplex, she brought along her own V.A.N.N.I. mask, though unlike the one Cassie used, it was clear of the mimic's influence. After all, she was going to need some way to travel through potential blocked routes.

By the time she found Gregory, she'd still been wearing the mask, seeing him down the end of a dark hallway. He looked confused, afraid, his mind was a wreck of conflicting emotions. She started rushing towards him, happy to see him okay, until he finally spoke.

"You need to get out of here."

She stepped back, taking off the mask, only to be faced with the worst case scenario.

It was a wreck, covered in stains and tears, but it was still recognizable. He was wearing that old suit again.

As he waved, she could see Freddy's claws peeking out from the doorway, as the two stepped closer towards her.

So, she did what he told her to do, and started running. She could hear a faint voice coming from the mask, and put it back on before finding somewhere she could hide.

It was his voice again, telling her which way to go.

I guess that was the dramatic way to summarize the main idea behind it, lol. Basically Gregory and Dr. Rabbit work the way Sun and Moon work in Ruin, whichever one is in control in the real world, the other is left behind in the AR world. Or at least that's my interpretation of how they worked, considering Sun was always in mask-on scenes and moon was mask-off. I'm not too sure where the plot might go from there, and maybe I'll consider writing for it, I dunno. I've never wrote fanfic before because I get deadly afraid of writing them out of character lol, but maybe?? I have ideas for scenes and premise and stuff but I don't know if I have the confidence to write it.

But anyway! That was just more of a fun side-idea I came up with while working on this, if you read this far thanks, hope you enjoyed :)

here's some silly little lineless doodles as a reward for making it to the end hehe

now that's what I call an art dump

@ggyweek2024

[runningfrom2am]

Request: Rafe x Reader

Prank - Reader starts argument about something stupid and then faints to see his reaction.

Protective!Rafe

thank you for this request bestie (i always love your requests they EAT) and i'm sorry it took me so long!! i think this turned out really cute tho omg

twenty dollars says he cries - r.c.

pairing: rafe x fem!reader

wc: 1.1k

tags/warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort (kind of? not really?), its just a prank bro-

requests (currently closed- feel free to send whatever but it will be a while before I get to them!)

nav/masterlists

At the girls night you had just had with Sarah and Kie, you spent hours watching random vlogs on youtube and chatting about anything and everything over two or three bottles of wine. It was a weekly event that you always looked forward to.

One video in particular, though, pulled the attention of all three of you, having you all staring at the screen in silence until it was over. You slowly look over at your friends, and they're already staring at you. "We have to do it. Y/N, you have to do it with Rafe. He'll just die- I know it!" Sarah laughs, a smug smile already forming on your lips.

"I bet he'll start yelling. My money is on him throwing a tantrum." Kie giggles, bringing her wine glass back up to her lips.

"I think he'll cry." Sarah muses and Kie shakes her head.

"No shot." The brunette laughs.

"Twenty dollars says he starts crying." Sarah insists and you roll your eyes fondly. Honestly, it's not beyond the realm of possibility.

"You're on." Kie places the bet officially before turning to you. "Can you film it? Seriously I'd pay anything to watch."

"Consider it done." You laugh.

Holding on tightly to the kitchen towel in your hand, you stomp dramatically into the living room of your and Rafe's shared apartment, where he's playing video games- you assume with his friends. You step in front of the TV, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Babe, move, I'm kind of busy at the moment," Rafe says, frustrated as he leans over to try and look past you at the first-person shooter game on the big screen.

You ball up the cloth and throw it at him, furrowing your brows in an attempt to show your anger.

"Okay! Fine! What do you want?" Rafe snaps, pulling his headset off and dropping it around his neck.

"I want you to stop ignoring me in favour of those fake instagram models I always see on your phone!" You snap, putting all your energy into keeping a straight face.

"What?" Rafe breathes, running a hand through his hair. "What are you even talking about? I unfollowed almost every other girl that exists. I don't even follow your friends."

"God- you're so full of shit! I've seen it! Don't lie to me." You argue, swaying slightly as you speak and bringing a hand up to your head.

"I genuinely don't know what you're talking about! Maybe they're ads? But I've never seen them, what do you expect me to do?" Rafe says, standing up now and holding his arms out in confusion.

"Jeez, I don't know, block them?" You say, sarcasm evident in your voice until it falters at the last word, and you take a step back, leaning a hand against the armrest on the side chair to support your weight.

"That's not how that works- Hey, are you okay?" Rafe starts his statement off upset, but his tone is quick to change as you keep your eyes closed.

You open your eyes to look at him. "I'm fine- Rafe, I just-" You sigh, knees shaking for just a second before you let your body go limp, falling down next to the couch after you roll your eyes back slightly.

"Y/N! Oh my god- Are you okay?" Rafe throws his headset aside on the couch and rushes over to you, narrowly dodging the coffee table. "Hey, hey- Baby, wake up, hey!"

He's grabbing your face, gently shaking you and squeezing your cheeks as you fight back a smile. "Shit- shit, shit..." Rafe mumbles, quickly scooping you up in his arms and carrying you to the couch, careful as he lays you down.

"Y/N, you gotta wake up now- okay? Wake up. You're okay." Rafe says, and you can tell it's more to himself. You commit to the bit at this point, keeping your eyes closed and your muscles loose as he shakes you gently. "I don't know what to do! Y/N, I don't know what the fuck to do please just wake up already!" He's holding your shoulder and your hand now, shaking you more.

"Fuck- okay, water. Yeah." He mumbles to himself, quickly getting up and you can hear him running to the kitchen.

Once you're satisfied that he's gone, you lift your head just slightly, smiling over at the security camera you already have in the living room- giving a small thumbs up to your friends who you know will be watching soon.

You quickly drop your expression and hold your head as you hear the freezer slam shut, sitting up slowly.

"Okay, okay, I've got- I've got ice, I don't know what to do with it but-" Rafe says, cutting himself off when he sees you sitting up. "Y/N! Oh my god, okay, here.."

He rushes back to your side, helping you sit up before holding the bag of ice to your head. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, no- I'm fine." You insist, turning your head away to hide your face as you try not to laugh.

"You're not, something's wrong," Rafe says matter-of-factly. "Maybe you should lay back down. Do you want some water? I grabbed a bottle..." He turns around to grab it from where he tossed it on the floor to help you, and you take this opportunity to "try" and get up.

"Seriously, I'm fine." You say again, immediately stumbling on your feet and holding your head again.

"Hey! Lay back down, Love, what do you need?" He asks, standing with you and grabbing you to coax you back down on the couch. He's not successful before you're fainting in his arms again. He is quick, again, to catch you, once again lifting you onto the couch and muttering to himself in panic. He places the ice on your forehead again, and you can hear him shuffling around, looking for something. "I'm gonna call your mom, then 911, you're gonna be fine." He says, voice cracking as he's unsure if you can even hear him.

Your eyes snap open at this and you sit up, grabbing his phone from his hand as he looks at you in confusion. "Y/N?"

"Don't! Don't call my mom, I'm fine, baby" You giggle, looking up at the camera in the corner of your bookshelf.

"What? No, I just, you were-"

"It was a prank, Rafe. I'm fine." You laugh as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to him as he kneels on the floor next to the couch.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" He asks after a moment, a slight laugh in his tone. "You scared the shit out of me..."

"I know, I'm sorry." 

He kisses your cheek as he pulls away, then reaches up to wipe his cheek.

"Why are you crying?" You ask, a pout on your lips as you rub his shoulders.

"I told you, you scared me..." He sniffles, eyes red with tears now that the shock has worn off.

"Aw, no, I'm sorry, baby. I didn't think you'd actually cry..." You say, glancing toward the camera again.

"What do you mean 'actually'?" 

"Let's just say Kie owes Sarah a twenty." You giggle, kissing his cheek and pulling him in for another hug.

taglist: @bookishbabyyy, @madelynie, @whore-4-drewstarkey, @slut4drudy, @winterrrnight, @totalswag, @sadfury, @fullfledgedemo, @rafemotherfuckingcameron, @urfaveluvr, @chenslucy, @hxnnah-397, @s-we-e-t-t-ea, @tahliac11, @saccharinesammie, @ietss, @maybankslover, @redhead1180, @suzyheartsrafe, @wpdailyminimeta, @aegons-bitch, @rafegirly, @lovelyxtommy, @thelomlisrafecameron, @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles, @flonkertn, @whtvrrafe, @r1vrsefx

[doshiart]

🖤 ART TAG 🖤

Hey to all artists! I want to talk about our art journey. Some of us have a long path, some have started only recently, but each of us has had our own individual path and I think it's really important to remember how we all started. And it's also important to share it with others so that no one would be scared to start their own journey and just create.

How did you start drawing? What year was it that you become more seriously and consciously interested in it?

As everyone I'll say I've been drawing since early childhood, but I think the end of 2019 is my beginning. Because that's the time I started to practice actively.

When you felt the urge to share your art with other people? When did you start posting your drawings on social media?

Maybe it's always been? I think for the first time I posted something traditional drawn on my personal social media. I started my art socials in 2020.

Your first/earliest drawing. What were your impressions of it back then and what are your feelings now?

It's hard to track my very first drawing, but here are the early traditional drawings and my very first digital hand drawing. It was before I got a tablet, so it was drawn with a mouse. My impressions? My hand was tired... But if seriously back then it looked like something cool to me and I was surprised that I could draw something like that. Now, of course, I can see all my mistakes. But let's be honest, any mistake is a move forward.

🚧 ALARM 🚧

My very first attempts after getting a tablet.

Should I mention that I was upset at the first second that it didn't work out on the first try?

Your first fanart ever

I had a lot of traditional drawings of Adventure Time (I'm a big fan of Marceline). It's roughly a little over a decade ago.

But in digital, I guess this? Snufkin and The Groke from Moomin stories. [aug 8, 2020]

Your first gallavich fanart

Hi babies! This post and this post.

[nov 27, 2023] - oh my god it's almost a year???

But what if I told you that my sister asked me to draw Cameron Monaghan… Who knew that ten years later I'd be drawing him once again...

When you had bad days and things didn't work out, what inspired you to keep trying?

I just need to rest, try again, or think about what exactly goes wrong. When I started my path as a digital artist I was very inspired by the older work by 'big artists'. No one is perfect at the first moment and there is always a long road of striving and practice behind cool works. And I knew that the more I tried, the more I could consider myself 'cool' too. (spoiler: that feeling is still with me)

Show your old piece that you strongly dislike and tell why.

It's a hard choice. I stopped liking a lot of my work after a time, but this one was initially a struggle. I really didn't like how it looked in the end. I wasn't able to draw it as I wanted, and had problems with the face and dynamics. But the background is cool! (A lot of the work you don't like has some good in it!)

Renee and Andrew from AFTG [dec 5, 2021]

Show your old piece that you very like and tell why. What's the difference with the previous?

I love the shading and the face, especially eyes. And i still love this drawing! Face looks better than previous and hair has a dynamic, and the expression is really good.

Buck Toothsome from School for vampires [nov 8, 2021]

Show your old piece that you were very proud of back then.

I really loved this study redraw!

Ginny with Marcus from Ginny & Georgia [june 22, 2021]

Do you do any practice sketches or warm-ups before you draw something big?

I've started to do it recently! I'd forgotten how many sketches I made in sketchbooks when I was studying drawing.

I tried to change the pen pressure.

Sketch vs Final. Show your process.

Actually, it's been a tough process.

Your most recent drawing.

I'm working on my secret santa's gift right now, so I can't share it 🤭But here's my last sketch during warm-up session 🤲🖤

Give yourself some praise! Look at what improved in your art!

I just want to say that four years ago I would've been shocked by my current drawings. I've really improved in drawing faces and anatomy, I'm trying new interesting composition, trying to learn new things and use it in my works.

Any advice you'd give to your earlier self?

Do more thinking while creating your art. Do a sketches warm-ups before digging into the big work. Don't be afraid to draw it again if something doesn't work. Take breaks to physically exercise!

Set a goal for yourself for the coming year.

I want to improve facial expressions. Make a professional portfolio. Keep growing and enjoying drawing.

I want to see more your drawings...

@deathclassic @suzy-queued @kiennilove @gallapiech @spookygingerr

@konaiiro @michellemisfit @heymrspatel @vintagelacerosette @sgtmickeyslaughter

@burninface @lingy910y @crossmydna @deedala

[cld9writes]

✩that tight little dress✩ - namjoon x reader kinktober #2

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

day two - roleplay

reader! afab!reader, fem!reader

word count! 1.9k words

tags! roleplay, wall sex, unprotected sex (don't do that.), dirty talk, self-indulgent degradation

------------------------ *ੈ✩‧₊˚𖦹𖦹𖦹*ੈ✩‧₊˚------------------------

The man across the bar is staring at you like he’s starving. Deep, dark eyes slowly roaming over your body, lips pressed together in an attempt to keep from drooling. His finger strokes across the top of his thigh nervously. The deep red dress that hugs your figure is drawing him in, begging him to come over and flirt with you. Begging him to come over and take you back to his place. He wants to get to know every inch of your body, to rip that dress off and figure out who you are.

That’s the storyline, anyway.

You’ve decided to try something different with your boyfriend. You wouldn’t have guessed it when you started dating, but him being into roleplay made more sense as time went on. You’ve tried tons of different scenarios- college professor and his student dying for extra credit, massage therapist, royalty and their favorite suitor, forbidden lovers. But never pretending to be strangers. It seemed a little odd to him at first- why would you want to fuck a stranger when he’s right at home? But then you explained it to him-

You get the thrill and rush of feeling like you’re doing something naughty, something new. But you have the guaranteed safety net and emotional closeness of your pre-existing relationship. Once it became less about strangers and more about thrill-seeking, he was a hundred percent on board.

That’s what brought you to this dark nightclub. In your tight little dress, in your light little heels, with your tight little pussy aching to be stuffed full of cock. But you haven’t “met” him yet, so that’s entirely out of the question. At least let the man buy you a drink before he lets him take you home. 

The tall man practically glides over to you, standing a stool away from you. He waits for your eyes to meet him before 

“I know you probably don’t want to hear it from me, but you look stunning.” He opens. You smile, heart fluttering now that the scene has truly started. You giggle, trying to cover up the nerves.

“Thank you! I wanted to look nice tonight, but stunning is even better.”

“For tonight?” He wonders. “You have something special going on? I wouldn’t want to impose.” 

“I’m supposed to meet up with some friends.” You shrug, as if these non-existent friends are more party buddies than true confidants. “But don’t worry about imposing- I'd Much rather talk with you. I’m Y/N. What’s your name?”

“Kim Namjoon.” He smiles, sitting in the barstool next to you. “You have a lovely name, Y/N.”

You two continue to play the scene out over drinks. It’s fun to pretend to be these alter egos. It’s not anything special, but seeing how different your dynamic could’ve been if you met differently, or were different people, is certainly interesting. It doesn’t take long before you’re both slightly sick of the acting, though, and want to get to a different kind of fun. Namjoon breaks the silence first and clears his throat.

“Are you still meeting with your friends?” He asks. You roll your eyes, drinking the rest of your whiskey. 

“No, I’m not.” You say, completely indifferent. “Why?” Namjoon finishes his own drink before responding.

“I was wondering if you’d like to rest at my place. I’d hate for you to go home alone, and I’m sober enough to drive.”

“Why wouldn’t I just go back to mine? Make you drop me off?” You say indignantly. Something in his eyes shifts. They seem sharper, more direct. Your stomach clenches at the change.

“Because we both know what you really want,” He whispers, leaned in right next to your ear. “And I certainly can’t let you go home unsatisfied.” And that’s all it takes. Within minutes, you’ve paid the tab and left the bar.

He drives you back to “his” place, touching you the whole way. For just a moment, he dips his hand down between your legs. He doesn’t touch you, mind you, he wouldn’t dare risk fucking you in the back seat. But the closeness, the hovering, the heat of his fingers. It all makes you bite the inside of your cheek and clench your thighs together. He’s pleased with this reaction and places his hand back on top of your leg. 

He barely manages to get you through the front door before his hand has fully slipped inside your dress. He thought about you while you were walking up the stairs, but he’s fed up now. He just wants to touch you, to feel how wet you are for him. His long fingers slide over the slick bottom of your panties and he relishes in just how soaked you are.

“This worked up over a man you just met.” He clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “Shameful little girl, aren’t you?”

“Don’t be such an a-ass.” You snap, trying your best not to stammer. He’s not making it easy. He slips your panties to the side and sticks a finger inside your soaked cunt, testing the waters. The way your walls ache to clench around it tells him you need more. Ever the gentleman, that’s exactly what he gives you.

He pulls you into a kiss, the taste of whiskey still strong on his tongue. You moan into the kiss, grinding your clit down against the rough palm of his hand. He follows suit, moving his hand in small, controlled circles as he finger-fucks you. 

“I can’t wait to go to bed” He huffs. “Just let me fuck you right here.” 

“I don’t know… what if you drop me?” You know he won’t. He’s fucked you up against the wall pleanty of times. But you wanna hear him assure you.

“I never would. Trust me, I’d have to be one stupid bastard to let you fall. You’ve trusted me this much, and I know you’re aching for some cock. Just trust me one more time.” He slips a hand under your thigh, stroking your soft skin as he awaits your okay. 

“Fine.” You sigh. “Pick me up.” 

Without hesitation, he does just that. He hoists you up against the wall, holding you in one arm and pressing the two of your bodies into the wall for added support. After miraculously removing his clothing from the waist down, he taps the sides of your thigh 

You sling your legs over his hips, finally letting him support your weight. He teases your folds with the tip of his cock, fat head threatening to break you as it pushes in. You moan behind bitten lips, almost drowning out the growled “fuck” that slips out of the man before you.

His thick cock fits nearly perfectly within your plush pussy. Despite acting like you’ve never met, it’s clear your cunt has molded to his shape. It’s like he’s been designed to fill you up and hit all those spots every time. The perfect cock, all for you. 

Namjoon kisses you again, pushing you further into the wall as he begins thrusting. Because of the curl in your stomach, he’s instantly rubbing up against your g-spot. He fucks you hard and slow, desperate to feel each moan of yours vibrate on his lips.

“You’re such a slut. He spits between kisses. “You let a man you’ve never met rawdog you in his entryway? What a shame…” 

“I’m not a slu-” You attempt to protest. He chuckles and kisses you, swallowing your response.

He drops his hands down to your pussy, playing with your clit as he fucks you. The double stimulation is incredible, it’s got your mind going blank as he pushes you against the wall against and again. You’re probably going to have bruises on your shoulder blades but it doesn’t matter.

The sex is filthy. You can’t stop moaning, you can’t shut up. Your pussy is sopping wet, and each thrust fills the air with disgustingly lewd noises. Your creamy cunt is dripping everywhere, soaking his upper thighs and dripping out onto the floor. He’s teasing your clit like he isn’t pounding into your stomach, like you aren’t already about to cum. You’re babbling, going on and on about how good it feels and how happy you are it’s his cock filling you up. He tries to shut you up with kisses, but he’s getting drunk off your ramblings and can’t stop.

“You’re shameless…ngh- fuck!”

“Mhm! Mhm!” You nod desperately. You are. You’re clawing at the fabric of his shirt, desperate to get even closer. You want his dick in your stomach, in your throat. You want to be able to taste it from where it stands. Because his fingers and his cock have turned you into some kind of freak and you just want more of it.

“I’m g-gonna cum!” You pant. “Gonna cum s-soon~!” He speeds up a little bit, both his pelvis and fingers. You reach your climax, screaming in pleasure as you cream over his throbbing cock. He fucks you through your high, not giving a single shit about how sensitive you may be or how this may end for him.

Your legs shake and squeeze his sides as you ride out your orgasm, desperate for more and for it to be over at the same time. He’s still pounding into you relentlessly, and he grabs your jaw to make you look at him.

“You see how good that felt? See how good it feels to be a slut for me? You think anyone else could’ve given you that tonight? No one else would’ve bothered. But I took care of that cunt of yours. You got that?”

“Yes, sir.” 

“Sir? Aren’t you ob- fucking hell- obedient-!” His hard persona is faltering, and you can tell it’s because he’s getting close to finishing himself. He can only take so much, but his hand falls right back to teasing your clit and swollen lips. He’s desperate for you to enjoy it for just as long as he does.

Your cumming has made it difficult for him, though. The extra warmth, softness, and tightness makes it feel like you’ve become a succubus, and he wants nothing more than to give his soul to you.

His thrusts are becoming erratic and sloppy. He’s chasing a high he’s far too close to, desperate to cum inside you. Desperate to defile that perfect cunt. His breathing is ragged and fast, he sounds like he’s been running for hours. And you still can’t get a single word out. You try. You try and you try. But the pounding of his cock and his fingers on your swollen clit make the words catch in your throat and come out and moans, curses or whines. Because all you can feel, all you’re aware of.

You two end up finishing at the same time. You reach a second orgasm, creaming all over his thick shaft. This is what finally does it for him, and he finishes inside of you. You feel your insides flood with hot, sticky cum  as he leans against the wall to support your weight. His thighs are shaking against yours, and he’s trying to control his breathing. He swallows hard, trying to calm down before speaking.

“I’m so glad I met you.” He sighs, a smile tugging at his lips. He’s not acting anymore. This is much deeper, much more real. You smile, dropping your head in lieu of giving him a hug. 

“I’m glad I met you, too.” 

You come to an unspoken agreement to stay like that for just a second longer. Just until you can stand on your own again.

------------------------ *ੈ✩‧₊˚𖦹𖦹𖦹*ੈ✩‧₊˚------------------------

and that's day two. this one is a little more disjointed cuz i literally banged this out in under two hours. sorry about that. hope y'all enjoyed tho <3

------------------------ *ੈ✩‧₊˚𖦹𖦹𖦹*ੈ✩‧₊˚------------------------

[ominous-feychild]

✦ Writer Questionnaire 2 ✦

Thanks for the tag, @the-golden-comet! (And @the-letterbox-archives tagging me when I was almost done here, haha)

Heads-up! Long post!

How long have you had your writing Tumblr/Writeblr? A fast and loose estimate is fine!

Two months ago to the date actually??? Or, at least, that's when I first uploaded a story here. My first actual Writeblr post was me hopping in on an open tag on the 6th of June, haha. I thought it was just a month, but looks like the summer's gone by in a flash! 😭

What led you to create it?

So, I'm a writer on Tapas! I'd been attempting to social network on other social medias (twitter and bluesky) but wasn't getting anywhere, didn't like the general formats, and uh... I'm sure I don't have to explain why I don't want to touch Twitter with a 10-foot-pole anymore. Let's just say, if you haven't seen, it's just as bad as (if not worse than) everyone says. Anyhow, I'd seen lots of Tumblr short stories on other platforms and started investigating what it's like here. Didn't know what "Writeblr" was or that it even existed, but eventually stumbled into the field after posting my short story. Thanks, @darkandstormydolls! ❤️

What’s your favorite thing about the Writeblr community?

How supportive everyone is??? Like omg you guys are so sweet, idk how to take it. Also I love seeing how much passion everyone else has for their writing, haha.

What’s one thing you’d like your mutuals to know about you?

Uhhhh, I think I'm pretty open about the things I'd like people to know about me, haha. I never mean to offend, so if I accidentally say something wrong, please tell me! I'm autistic and very dumb.

Is there anything you’d like to see more of on your dash?

I'm ngl I keep meaning to build out my followed tags for my fandoms, haha. The only fandoms I really see things for are TMAGP (10/10, TMA is my obsession. I am obsessed. It is one of my Special Interests and I love it with all my heart) and House of the Dragon??? Except I'm not even a fan of HotD??? So that's kinda annoying, haha. (Aka, my fandom stuff, but that's on me.)

WIP it Good

Which Works-in-Progress (WIPs) or writing projects are you noodling about, lately?

Rising From the Ashes, tragically. (Because it's one of the LAST things I should be working on right now, haha.) Otherwise, I'm of course always obsessed with the Arcane Rifts. Then I force myself to be obsessed with Sun and Shadow, though it's slowly growing on me, haha.

How long have you been working on them?

Haha, so I've historically jumped around a lot in working on different things, so these are approximate guesstimations!

Rising From the Ashes has likely had 3 or 4 years put into it/the characters. If you include the Calamity Crew (which overlaps with it in the timeline and originally ended up merging with the cast of RFtA), I'd say definitely 4 years!

The Arcane Rifts has had 5 years put into it.

Sun and Shadow is very new; I'd say it probably only has about 4 months of work in it? It's part of why I'm less interested in it, haha. Less I've put into it and less I'm attached to.

Do you remember what inspired them/what got you started?

Oh... oh dear. How could you ask me this??? 😭😭😭

Rising From the Ashes has existed since, I think, 2016. It started (tragically) as an RP starter on Google+. I wish I was kidding.

To those unaware of how it worked in that space (and likely similar ones to this day), you'd post a starter and people would join in with their own characters. 99% of the time, they'd drop out before long. However, I'd work out details of the characters in the process and carry that info over into the worldbuilding. I eventually stopped RPing with the masses and settled down with a single "partner" who I'll call Kris.

She's the one who stole my docs.

The Arcane Rifts technically originated as another RP starter? It never got attention, though, and instead my ideas for it simply carried over into the worldbuilding in general.

One of the characters of the original starter was important in the worldbuilding. It was not a character you see in the early books of tAR, though, so don't bother trying to figure it out. But, since he was so important, his origins were also important.

The Arcane Rifts started in 2019, as I wanted to make a story building out said character's origins. It was originally going to be a duology, the first book being Gene's backstory and the second being how Gene and The Other Guy's lives intertwined. (No, they were not gay for each other! 😂) It's since changed a lot, and focuses basically exclusively on Gene, haha. The last book in the series will probably be focused on the other character, though!

Sun and Shadow started for a romance novel competition on Tapas which has since ended. I didn't get to finish it in time for a lot of reasons, but I primarily cite stress and exhaustion from working full time at a physically-intensive job. It grew shockingly quickly and I had some fans donate to me related to it, so I'm kinda forced to work on it, haha. Dw--I like it! It's just harder to work on for a number of reasons, haha.

How much time, in your best estimation, do you spend thinking about them?

Tragic, the questions you're asking me--

It depends, haha. I'm autistic and hyperfixate a lot. Also, for one, that's a suuuuuper vague question??? Like what do you mean "how much time"--how much time within the day? How often in general? Idk, man, haha.

I think about the Arcane Rifts a LOT!

I've put an incredible amount of time and effort into it, and I'm in love with 90% of the characters there. Even the background characters have had a lot of work put into them, getting relatively fleshed-out backstories to make their motives understandable (even if not agreeable!), and I love them all so much, haha.

Except Katerina. She's a bitch.

I also think about Rising From the Ashes a good amount, and it's invaded my brain again lately, haha.

I took a step away from RFtA and basically all of my other stories late 2021 when Kris (my ex-writing partner) and I had a falling out. It was incredibly difficult for me emotionally to look at anything I worked with her on, and obviously RFtA was a huge one (actually, tAR was the only thing of my early works she had nothing to do with). Since early this year, I've finally been able to work on it again and it's been incredibly fun removing her stuff, actually!

I think all that is a good part of why I keep randomly getting obsessed with it again, haha. It's like looking at old friends (the characters, not Kris) and being all "omg??? I HAVEN'T SEEN YOU IN FOREVER??? PLEASE TELL ME EVERYTHING YOU'VE BEEN UP TO!!!" except it's removing Kris's stuff, haha.

I think about Sun and Shadow a lot more than you might expect with how much I talk about not preferring it, haha. I love the characters! Crow and, actually, Valyarus especially. They're both super interesting characters, and I'll randomly find my brain working out scenes between characters interacting with them.

(The problem with SaS is that, as a book, it's incredibly different from my usual works. It's a small cast of Frey/Crow and technically Daleira, while most of my stories focus on larger casts. It makes for a VERY different experience, and so it's a lot harder to work on)

When someone asks the dreaded, “What do you write about,” question, what do you usually say?

Actually, I've got a ready answer for this one! Until SaS, I was dedicating my time to the Arcane Rifts and had prepared the answer:

Percy Jackson meets Lord of the Rings in a steampunk fantasy world full of ✨mysteries waiting to be uncovered✨

(I'd say the "mysteries waiting to be uncovered" part ironically/accidentally mockingly most of the time, whoops, haha. I always feel awkward advertising my works.)

It was awkward when people would get actually interested in it from there and ask more questions, haha.

To clarify: that's my tagline for the Arcane Rifts! The story has gods and demigods messing with mortals, using them as their playthings and being REALLY immature babies because they don't really face consequences for their actions like PJ. Then, it's a lot more "grounded yet fantastical" like LotR, where magic is kinda infused with reality and yet you still have issues like starving to death and whatnot.

Let’s Rotate Blorbos

Name any characters you created. ��Side characters, protagonists, antagonists, characters who’ve never been written, the first original abomination you ever pulled from your ass; whomever you’d like!

UHHHH THERE'S A LOT TO LIST???

Try this for a taste! These are just the guys I've gotten colors for!

Freya, Crow, Daleira, Valyarus, Grimnir, Soren, Gene, Tazin, Mislav, Adilzhan, Ludmila, Rada, Caspar, Nikolai, Gennadi, Oska, Rieka, Liesel, Carmin, Nora, Sammy, Kieva, Caron, Varik, Elazi, Riaan, Roman, and Tiberius! (Though Tib is getting a name change sooner or later)

Who’s the most unhinged?

Unhinged in which way? There's a lot of options there, haha.

I'm going to give honorary mentions to Valyarus, Gene in the later books, Tazin, Rieka, Gennadi, and Tiberius ! (Why does it not surprise me that most unhinged characters are from tAR? 🤣 Also I swear it's a coincidence most of the unhinged characters are red.)

(... Probably.)

In general, I'd say that, incredibly ironically, the Existence of Order is the most unhinged of all my characters. She's just incredible at hiding it.

(Tbf half of the Existentials probably belong on the "unhinged" list anyway but eh. They still don't compare to Order!)

Who comes the most naturally for you to write?

I'm going to give this as a tie between Gene and Sammy!

Gene has my 'tisms and just about all of my trauma, so we have a lot in common, whoops, haha. Also there's a... very specific detail about his character that makes him easier to write in general. It's just a major spoiler. 👀

Similarly and actually identically to Gene in some ways, while Sammy has a lot in common with me, he's also incredibly perceptive! (Although we don't share that fact.)

Due to the way I write, their analytical natures allow for them to spit straight facts about the worldbuilding and the people around them rather than beating around the bush, haha. Both are highly investigative, try to learn and understand everything around them, and notice small details other characters wouldn't! It makes it much easier for me to write, because uh... well here's an example of what my outlines look like.

Long story short: I include a lot of detail which I then transfer into the POV's character narration, cutting out details which they wouldn't notice or think about, haha. In Sammy's case (which that scene has Sammy as the narrator/POV character), very little information gets cut out because he's so perceptive!

(Here, as a treat--have another example!)

(In this scene, Nikolai is the narrator. Even the outline gets "filtered" to mirror the characters' way of thinking--like it's Nikolai himself seeing Caspar as "doll-like". The crossed-out stuff is details I most likely won't mention, but noted for myself, haha. I do the same thing if/when including details about the motives and thoughts of non-narrator characters.)

Do you ever cringe at them?

Gene and Sammy?

A B S O L U T E L Y .

Gene is a wreck in basically every way and desperately needs help (that he won't get until he meets Dimitry). As much as I love him, there's a lot of moments where you just can't help but wince and be all "shit, did you REALLY have to do/say that?"

Sammy on the other hand? He's a terrified, control freak manipulator who panics the moment he feels like he's losing control of a situation. It can be painful to watch, even if simultaneously fascinating.

How much control do you feel you have over your characters?  AKA, do they ever “write themselves,” refuse to cooperate, or do things you didn’t expect? To what degree? Are some less cooperative than others?

I explicitly go out of my way to add backstory to and develop each and every one of my characters until they "write themselves", haha.

I want my characters to feel like real people, so I do my absolute best to make them as real as possible. (That's part of why tAR is so massive...)

Special shoutout to Dimitry here, btw. Dude COMPLETELY screwed over the planned and intended from the earliest days path of the Arcane Rifts. I've mentioned before that Gene is villain-coded, yeah? Want to know why?

Because he was MEANT to be one! Then Dimitry had to come along, be the sweetest, nicest fucking person around to Gene while he was going through the worst part of his life, and keep Gene from slipping off the deep end!

MITRY, YOU PIECE OF--

Do you enjoy people asking questions about your characters? And do you have a preferred means of receiving said questions? For example, as Asks, as replies, as reblogs, as tag notes, as comments on AO3, etc.

I absolutely love, love, love!!! people asking questions about my characters!!! 🥰

I would absolutely prefer them as Asks sent to me, and especially would prefer if separate subjects/questions were sent in separate Asks! Like, say you were going to ask me about Gene and Dimitry. I'd rather two separate Asks, one asking for whatever you wanted to know about Gene and another for whatever you wanted to know about Dimitry, haha. However, if you wanted to ask a single question about both, that obviously is fine as a single Ask!

On writeblr engagement

What makes you want to follow another Writeblr account? Do you follow ‘em as you see ‘em, or take time scoping out the blog to make sure you align with its content? Do you follow based on WIPs, or vibes?

I definitely scope out before I follow, yes.

I choose based primarily on the personality of the person behind the blog, but the WIPs/vibes can also have an influence on my decision, haha. I'd rather follow people with kind/supportive personalities, and I'll eventually start liking their stories even if they're not initially my thing!

What makes you decide against following?

Bigotry. Moment I see it, I'm on the lookout for even the slightest hint of more and, if I see it, I'm OUT!

(That includes things like: homophobia, transphobia, TERFs, ableism, racism, xenophobia, etc.)

Also, while I include angst in my stories, the people who are big on "I have nothing but bad stuff in my writing and I'm proud" are, uh... not on my "follow" list. While they can write what they want and enjoy it, grimdark is not my thing. Angst is best in moderation and I very purposely control the amount of it in my life.

(Also Kris's--my ex writing partner's--obsession with "grimdark-ness" is a good part of why I'm so ecstatic to remove her stuff from my writing. Yes, I've tried it. For years. I hated it. Please and thank you. Also note that I proudly call myself an evil writer, so it's not like I don't love angst, it's just--moderation. Seriously.)

Do you interact with non-mutuals often?

Yes! I think a good 50-30% of my interactions are with non-moots, haha. I go out of my way to try to support my moots, but I'll definitely share support with anything that catches my attention, no matter who it's from!

To be fair, though, I think a majority of non-moots I interact with are on my mental "probably going to follow soon" list. I can be slow to make decisions, haha. It doesn't help that I try being active with my moots, so I'm trying to avoid growing that list too quickly!

Do your mutuals’ characters occupy space in your noodle?

Haha, depends what you mean by that? My brain is definitely too full of my own characters to have any space for anyone else's, but I definitely do think of others' characters at times! There's plenty of y'alls characters I really like, haha.

Just... omg, my hyperfixated AuDHD brain refuses to focus on anything except for the Hyperfixation of the Moment™.

This was a huge one! Hopefully I'm not screaming into the void with this one, or you guys enjoy finding out more about me and my WIPs.

If you're curious about the reason this is labeled Writer Questionnaire 2... well guess what!

Tagging (gently! This is a lot, haha): @honeybewrites @yourpenpaldee @paeliae-occasionally @mysticstarlightduck @illarian-rambling @.darkandstormydolls (tagged you earlier in the post haha) + open tags!

Divider from @cafekitsune!

[graymanshoots]

What could have been

Simon Riley x reader

Tags/Warnings: Angst, Hanahaki disease, reference to sex, Readers is the one with the disease

*Bad ending*

Sorry guys

Love was something I'd always wished for since I was young. But if I could have found out then who I'd be in love with… well, I would have taken that wish back. Simo – no, Ghost was not a man you could love. Ghost was not a man who could love. So the day the first petal fell, I knew it'd be my end.

His tender kisses and scarred skin only felt in the dark. His gentle grip at my hips when he used me over and over again. The lying words he spoke once over the edge. It didn't help that he truly had a wonderful heart; had it not been beaten and broken so viciously, things might've turned out differently. But that wasn't the case, no, life wouldn't grant me so much luck.

So I said nothing. Not to Gaz, Soap, or even Price. And I especially didn't tell Ghost. I couldn't touch him, I couldn't smell him, I couldn't see him, hell, I couldn't even be in the same room as him. If I was, it'd start again. The coughing. The blood. The petals. I always loved gardening as a child, but the one starting inside of me was not what I had imagined.

Every day that passed, it grew harder and harder to breathe. I couldn't be around the team without him being there, so I disappeared as a whole. I took a leave, and Price granted it, thank that man. But even in the comforts of my own home, it didn't stop. I couldn't stop it. The gnawing feeling in my chest, the feeling of millions of thorns tearing me in two. It never stopped.

He'd been here in my home, in my kitchen, bathroom, and bed. I couldn't escape the one man I wish I didn't have to. Weeks passed, and things only grew worse.

My skin paled, my body thinned, my sleep was nonexistent, and I could barely keep anything down. They started to notice. I'd check my phone each day and see call upon call from Soap, Price, Gaz, even a couple from Ghost. But they all went unanswered. I couldn't let them see me like this. I was a decorated soldier falling to a silly concept. A concept that was never meant to be.

The minute my doorbell rang was a minute so close to too late. I can't remember who saw me first, but I remember the shouting, the sirens, the pain, and the petals. So many petals were on my floor it reminded me of a greenhouse left and forgotten after the spring bloom.

When I woke up in the hospital, the doctors told me that what was growing had already grown too big for them to remove, so it was only a matter of time. They could keep me alive for as long as possible, but as long as possible wasn't forever.

The team came in for what would've been our last goodbye. I remembered seeing Jonny crying, still keeping his composure despite it all. Gaz couldn't even keep his eyes on me, most likely either disgusted or terrified of what had become of me. Price finally took off that damned hat of his and put it on my head. It would have made me laugh if it didn't hurt so much. And then there was Ghost.

He stood at my right side, staring wordlessly at me. He didn't move or make any attempts at saying goodbye; he just stared. Even after everyone had left, the boys no longer able to hold back tears, he stayed, just staring. It was almost as if he was trying to process what happened to me. His eyes were almost angry. I don't know if he was angry at me, the doctors, or himself; I really couldn't tell.

What felt like ages of him just standing there, he finally knelt at the side of my bed. My cold frail hand now clutched in his large warm ones. His forehead was leaned against the side of the bed right below his hands. He kept muttering something I couldn't quite hear it. I tried to grip his hand back, but I could no longer move my fingers. At that, I realized I could no longer move anything.

My eyes remained locked on Ghost's now shaking form as he continued mumbling incoherent words. At some point, he stopped and stood up. What was visible of his face was damp, as if he'd been crying. Ghost tugged at the top of his mask and pulled it off his head, and for the first time in my life, I saw Simon Riley.

He was so beautiful, even with tears dampening his skin. With his dirty blonde hair, his pretty blue eyes that were always so angry, and pretty pink lips that kissed so tenderly. The scars that ran across his skin making him all the more gorgeous. My heart could have stopped beating right then and there.

Simon then leaned over and pressed the softest kiss I've ever received to my forehead. Everything went numb at that moment. No more pain, no more laughter, no more sadness, there was no more nothing. And then his hand covered my eyes, and the world went black. Nothing was left.

[hippiegoth97]

Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story Pt. 13

Collage by me :)

Master List

Part 12

Tag List: @rafescurtainbangz @voyeurmunson @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @mediocredreams

@slowandsteddie @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @babygorewhore

@rattkween86 @violetpixiedust @bimbobaggins69 @purplehazed-h @morning-rituals

@eddie-van-munson @msgexymunson @munsoneightysixx @impmunson @mysticalstar30

@jenniquinn @oneforthemunny @succubusmunson @ddeadly-succubus @prettyboyeddiemunson

@sanctumdemunson @stalactitekilla @s6raphic @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne

@ohmeg @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever @ahoyyharrington @micheledawn1975

@costellation-hunter @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @yourdailymemedelivery @spacedoutdaydreamer

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, alcohol use, anger, anxiety, smut, masturbation, squirting, unprotected sex, praise/degradation, slight voyeurism/exhibitionism, crying, mild arguing, mentions of a dead parent

Word Count: 8.8k

Divider by @strangergraphics

Part 13: Human

Wednesday, April 12th, 1989

Your alarm clock wakes you up at 7:30am, blaring its harsh trill in a persistent rhythm. The sound hurts your head, your wound throbbing at the back of your skull. Eddie grumbles beneath you, not wanting to get up. You place a whisper of a kiss on his cheek before slipping out of bed to shut the alarm off. His good eye flutters open when the room is quiet again. "Come back to bed, love. You're so warm and cozy." Sleep saturates his voice, it's really adorable.

"I can't, Eds. I have to shower and get ready for my exam. You can stay in bed if you want. I know you're really tired." You stroke his hair, which makes him smile warmly at you. He just nods in reply, closing his eye to continue resting. You don't blame him one bit. If you didn't have your final, you'd be knocked out right next to him all day.

You go through your usual routine, taking your time as your head is pounding again. You take a shower first, carefully letting the water run over your stitches. It doesn't feel great, but the doctor said to keep the area clean and you don't have time to deal with an infection. You return to your room wrapped in a towel, quietly digging around your drawers to pull out some fresh jeans and a t-shirt.

Eddie's snoring again, you watch his chest rise and fall in the mirror's reflection while you dress. You hate to leave him alone all morning, you're sure he'll be a bit stir-crazy without you or anything to occupy his mind. Maybe he'll get curious and dig around in your room, if he hasn't before. You giggle quietly at that thought, picturing Eddie attempting to glean new information about you from old stuffed animals and journals you've long since neglected. You walk over to him, giving another kiss to his forehead. He stirs slightly, an indescribably cute noise escaping his mouth.

You tiptoe out of the room, not wanting to disturb him. You slowly close the door behind you, traveling down the hall to the kitchen. Dustin is at the island munching on some Eggos, and Mom is frying up some bacon and eggs. You see your portion, but she's making more than usual. It's probably for Eddie. "Mornin' kiddos! How'd you sleep?" Mom asks with her back turned.

"I slept alright, Eddie's still asleep." You reply, which makes her face drop slightly. Dustin also gives a worried glance.

"Is he alright? He looked like a zombie when you brought him home last night." Dustin asks, concerned about his friend.

"He's alright. Yesterday really shook him up. He did wake up at first, but I told him he can stay in bed if he wants."

"Well, I'll put a plate for him in the microwave. I'd hate for him to go hungry." Mom says, clearly nervous about today. You've scared the hell out of her with yesterday's incident. And tonight she has to break bread with her ex-husband's mistress and their kids. You feel so guilty for putting her through all this, you wonder if she still thinks Eddie is the right man for you.

"I'll leave a note before we go, I'm sure he'll appreciate it." You keep conversation light, getting a plate from the cabinet to serve yourself. "You ready for your tests today, Dusty?" You ask, Mom's focus has drifted away from him lately in favor of you and Eddie. Another thing you feel very guilty about.

"Born ready!" He says cheerfully, luckily he doesn't seem to have taken the shift in attention personally. He knows Mom has been doting on you for years to get into a serious relationship. And now that you have, she's over the moon. Well, at least she was. The jury is still out on whether that sentiment remains.

"Good." You smile at him, taking a bite of egg into your mouth. The three of you finish eating, and you go back to your room one last time to retrieve your bag. You scribble out a note for Eddie, which reads:

I'll be back in a couple hours, love. There's a plate for you in the microwave, please be kind to yourself today.-Your Girl ♡

You set it on the nightstand, hoping he sees it instead of freaking out when he wakes up to an empty house. You give him one last kiss, unable to resist. He hums lightly, and you worry you've woken him up now. He doesn't do anything else besides shift a little in the bed. You sling your bag over your shoulder, glancing back at him one last time before heading to the front door. Mom leads the way to the car, you in the front and Dustin in the back. The ride is pretty quiet, you can sense a different tense energy growing in your mother.

Dustin is dropped off first as the high school is closer. Claudia pulls away after saying goodbye, and she glances at you oddly. "What's up, Mom?" You ask, your voice faltering.

"Nothing, nothing." She shakes her head insistently, but you're not convinced. You look at her purposefully, and she sighs before speaking again. "I'm just worried, that's all." She says, a tinge of judgment hiding just below the surface of her tone.

"About what?" You want clarification as there's many things she could be referring to. You pick at your hands, anticipating what she's going to say.

"You and Eddie." She says plainly, knowing you're onto her.

"In what way?"

"Well, sugarpuff...I just, I worry that maybe he's not what you need right now." There it is. The other shoe finally drops. You scoff, not in disbelief of her feeling this way. It's more that you had hoped she'd be better than this.

"What's that supposed to mean? You think he's not good enough for me?" You're getting defensive, you've already told her it wasn't his fault.

She sighs again, considering her words carefully. "I don't mean it like that. He's a sweet young man, and he clearly cares for you. And I know you love him, honey. But...yesterday was easily the worst day of my life. I was worried to death. Getting the call at work that you were at the hospital scared the shit out of me." She can't help tearing up a little, the initial thought when she received that call was that you'd been in a car accident or something.

"I know, Mom. It was no picnic for me or Eddie, either. I've already told you, it wasn't his fault. Jason was being a piece of shit because we wanted to do the right thing." Your heart is sinking as this talk continues, you really hope she doesn't ask you to break up with him. You won't, no matter what she says. But to have her even ask would crush you both. Eddie already worries about being good enough for you. If Mom gives even a hint of that sentiment to him, he'll surely save you the trouble and cut himself out of your life.

"I understand that, Y/N. But I need you to understand something, too. You are my child, and it's my job to do everything I can to protect you. This mess had me and Dusty in shambles yesterday. So, if Eddie gets you hurt or in trouble again, I don't want him in my house. And I certainly won't keep that promise I made if that happens. Do you understand me?" Her question rings through the air just as you pull up to the college. She looks at you fully, her face hardened as she expects a quick answer.

"Yes, I understand." You say begrudgingly, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. This is so fucking unfair, she's treating you like a little kid again. You get where she's coming from, you truly do. But she should know by now that Eddie does everything in his power to take care of you. One little mistake, and she doesn't trust him anymore. She's no better than every other fucker in this town that takes one look at Eddie and only sees trouble.

"I can tell you're not happy with me, sugarpuff. You get your bull-headedness from me, ya know. But I'm serious. One more mess-up, and you're on your own in regards to him. Now, go ace that test. I'll be waiting right here with my novel." She attempts to smile, but you don't buy it. The anger in your eyes shines through crystal clear. You get out of the car without another word. You'll say something you regret if you open your mouth.

You make your way to the exam room, unable to calm the seething feeling inside you. Great, now your testing flow is thrown off. Part of you wants to flunk this test on purpose, just to spite her. You could always blame it on your head injury, you could even get a redo if it came down to it. You're just so upset that she would threaten to ban Eddie from your house if he 'screws up' again. This wasn't his fault. Why can't she see that? You dread going back home after the exam. Eddie will know you're hiding something. But you can't possibly tell him what Mom said.

You take your seat, forcing the rage into a deep recess of your mind as you wait for the go-ahead to open your test booklet. You take your time, drawing out every answer in an effort to stall facing your beaten boyfriend. You have a secondary thought process going in your mind as you fill in the scantron bubbles, coming up with a way to hide what Mom said from Eddie. You don't want to lie, but he can't handle something like this right now. He's hanging by a thread as it is, so you'll have to put up an act. The very idea of doing this makes you sick, but what choice do you have? Ugh, maybe I should just tell him. You really don't know what to do at this point, turning the attention away from the subject for now.

You finish second to last, with only fifteen minutes left in the allotted time. Mom will be worried again, this plan is backfiring already. Your professor gives you an odd look when you return your testing materials, she expected you to finish way before everyone else. She's about to ask if you're alright, it reads plainly on her face. You can't take another person worrying about you, so you leave before she can speak. You make your way outside and get back in the car, clicking your seatbelt in place.

"That took a while. How'd it go?" Mom asks while glancing at her watch.

"It went fine." You reply shortly. You don't even look at her, you can't. She's really pissed you off this time. She sighs again, becoming rather annoyed herself. She wonders if she shouldn't have said anything at all. She doesn't mean to be harsh, she's just looking out for you.

"Okay." It comes out of her mouth barely above a whisper, and she puts the car in drive to take you both home. The whole ride is silent, suffocating. You hate it, but you refuse to let this go. There's certainly no hiding this from Eddie now, you're far from a good actress. Let's just hope everyone can calm the fuck down before dinner later on.

Mom stalls the car in the driveway, and you leave her behind to go inside. You leave the front door open for her, though you're tempted to slam it. You find Eddie eating his plate of food in the kitchen, struggling to avoid touching his nose or busted side of his lip. "Hey, darling. How'd the test go?" He asks as his fork stabs the split in his mouth. "Fuck." He mutters, letting the utensil clatter onto his plate.

"Oh, Eds." You gasp, setting your bag on the island to tend to his bleeding lip. You grab some paper towel, folding it for him to hold to his wound. "Here. And it went fine, there's something I have to tell you when you're done eating, though." You say cautiously, not wanting to spook him.

"Well, that doesn't make me nervous at all." He replies, raising an eyebrow at you as he holds the towel up to stop the bleeding. Mom shuts the door and walks past you without saying anything, retreating to her room as she imagines you aren't wanting her company at the moment.

"I know. It's not something I wanted to hear, either." His eyes widen at your words, curious what that means. Did Claudia say something? He starts to panic internally, hoping you're not going to dump him or something. "Eddie, don't freak out. What it is does not change a damn thing between us. Okay?" You take his free hand, emphasizing your point by giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Okay." He says, letting himself relax a little. The blood flow mostly stops, and he finishes his plate before putting it in the sink. You take his hands, pulling him along behind you back to your room. You really don't want to tell him what Mom said, but hiding and lying isn't something you want to be in the habit of doing. Eddie means too much to you for you to deceive him. You sit side by side on the bed, still holding hands. "What's up?" He asks, reminding himself of what you said. Nothing will change between us. He really hopes you mean that.

You nod awkwardly, preparing yourself. You don't want Eddie to be upset, or decide he can't be with you anymore. You can't lose him, he's your everything. "Okay, just gonna reiterate that I highly disagree with this. I have no intention of letting you go, ever." You look deep into his eyes, trying to drive home the fact that you can't live without him. He gives you a nod, nudging you to keep talking. "Mom was driving me to the exam. She told me how scared she was yesterday, that she thinks you're not 'what I need right now'. And she said...that if I get hurt again when I'm around you, that she won't let you in the house anymore." You flinch as you finish speaking, it's like the air has been sucked out of the room.

You glance at Eddie cautiously, waiting for him to respond. He takes a minute to absorb this, you have no clue how he's going to react. "Fair enough." He shrugs. Well, that was easier than you expected.

"Really?" You ask, confused.

"I mean, she's not wrong to say that, Y/N. You're her daughter, and she's worried about you. I know you don't think it's fair, but you're forgetting that this isn't the first time you've gotten hurt because of me." You're surprised he's taking this so well, but you suppose it's better than him trying to leave you.

"But that wasn't your fault, either. I was being a dumbass, biking into the road when I shouldn't have." You retort, unsatisfied with how this is all panning out. You still think it's bullshit that Mom said what she did. Eddie would never hurt you on purpose, it's been your own fault every time. You cross your arms, and Eddie scoffs.

"What do you want me to say, princess? I feel like you're looking for a fight here, when there isn't one." He searches your eyes, and you avert your gaze in annoyance.

"It's just not right, Eds. Hearing her say that, she sounded like every other asshole in this town that judges you unfairly." You hate the way Eddie's treated in Hawkins. He doesn't do or say anything to anyone. But because of his outward appearance, they assume he's a monster, or something.

Eddie sighs, using his thumb and forefinger to gently lead you to look at him. He speaks seriously, hoping he can help you understand. "Whether you like it or not, your mother holds me responsible for your safety since I'm your boyfriend. And so do I, Y/N. Clearly you don't agree with us on this, and that's fine. But you deserve better, and I damn well intend to be better."

You want to protest, shout and scream that he's perfect just the way he is. You don't need him to be better, he's everything you need already. But you're outnumbered, so what's the point in fighting it? "Okay." Is all you can say, anything else will surely lead to an argument. And you're too tired to handle that right now, especially when you have to deal with Angie in a few hours. "We've got a while before dinner, is there anything you wanna do?" You ask, wanting to spend as much time with Eddie one on one as possible.

He thinks for a moment, his features softening once he realizes you aren't going to fight him on the previous subject. He smiles kindly, letting your chin out of his grip. "Anything you want, sweetheart. I'm just happy to be around you." He wishes he could kiss you, but his busted face has taken his favorite things to do to you off the table.

Noticing his wanting for contact, you lean over and plant a warm kiss on his throat. He sighs, his hand snaking up to cradle the back of your neck. You leave a trail of wet marks on him, nipping the skin just below his jaw. He moans quietly, wanting more. "I love you, Eds." You whisper against his flesh, poking your tongue out to lick his sweet-spot.

His breath hitches, the next six days are going to be very trying for him. It'll take every last iota of willpower to keep himself from diving face first between your legs. "I love you too, baby. You're killin' me here." He whimpers, which only pushes you further.

You move his hair aside to purr against the shell of his ear. "Well, lucky for you, my mouth is fully capable of giving you what you want. Let me please you, darling." Slipping a hand down his front to graze over the bulge forming in his pajamas, he moans in your grasp.

"What about you?" He asks, meeting your lustful eyes. Your heart soars at his consideration for your own pleasure, he's always been so invested in it. You shrug, not finding it particularly important at the moment.

"You can watch me get myself off, if you want. Your mouth and hands are kinda out of commission at the moment." You take Eddie's earlobe between your teeth, nibbling on it just the way he likes.

"I think you're forgetting another vital part, princess." He chuckles lightly, and you stop your movements on him.

"Are you sure, Eddie? I don't wanna hurt you." You'd hate to make his injuries worse by engaging in such a strenuous activity. Though the wetness gathering between your legs tells you what you truly desire.

"I have an idea, if you're up for it." He gives you a devilish smirk, a glint of mischief in his eye.

"Shoot." You say, anxious to hear what he has in mind.

"There's still one more page in the book I made you that we haven't tried yet." He gestures for you to retrieve it, and you find the position Eddie is referring to. Number six: Conquest. You can't help going slack-jawed at the illustration, but it's perfect for the current limitations you both face. You look at him with widened eyes, and he laughs at your reaction. "It's good to know I'm still able to shock you, baby. You wanna lock the door?"

"Uh...yeah." You snap yourself out of it for a second, hopping off the bed to click the lock. You hear Eddie shuffling out of his clothes while your back is turned, he's very eager it seems. You turn back around to find him getting into position. He's laying his head on the pillows, knees tented together. You eye his stiff cock waiting for you, the tip leaking sticky precum. "Fuck." Your breath catches in your throat at the sight, your hands instinctively pulling at the hem of your shirt to lift it over your head.

Eddie watches as you undress, he'd be stroking himself while he waits if it weren't for the bandages on his hands. He wishes his left eye could look at you along with his right. The swelling has gone down a little, but it's still in pretty bad shape. You unbutton your jeans, making a show of sliding them down your legs. "You're so gorgeous, love." Eddie says, sending a flare of heat to your cheeks. You're standing in your bra and panties, reaching behind your back to undo the clasp. The straps fall down your shoulders, and you let the bra plop to the floor. "Can you stop for a second?" He asks as you're about to take off your underwear. His tone is needy, almost desperate.

You raise an eyebrow, before realizing why he asked. "You want me to play with them for you, Eds?" You bat your eyes at him while biting your lip. He nods wordlessly, and you apprehensively bring your palms up to squeeze your tits. You moan lightly at the contact, watching his reaction to you touching yourself. You feel bad that Eddie can't do this himself, but it's also very hot to have him helplessly observe you like this. It reminds you of your birthday, which was easily one of the best days of your life. "You wish these were your hands instead, baby?" You speak teasingly, walking closer to the side of the bed.

"I really do. Can you tease your nipples a little, sweetheart? I love the face you make when I do that." You do as he requests, your eyes fluttering shut as you roll the sensitive buds between your fingers. Your mouth falls open, letting out a low moan of his name. "Fuck, just like that."

"Should I touch something else, baby?" You open your eyes again as you pose the question. You really want to feel how wet you are, and tell him all about it. It'll drive him even crazier than you already have.

"Please, take off your panties and tell me how wet you are for me." You can't get enough of the begging in his voice, it's practically a drug to you. You slip your final piece of clothing off, kicking it away with your foot. You watch his gaze follow your hand as it seamlessly glides over your breasts, down your stomach, until it reaches between your thighs.

"Fuck, Eddie." You whine as you finally touch your slick folds. Your fingertips ghost over your clit, before dipping inside your entrance out of reflex. "I'm absolutely soaked for you." You pump your fingers in your pussy at an agonizing pace, preparing yourself to take Eddie's dick when he's ready for you.

"Such a filthy girl, fingering yourself while I watch." He says lowly, unbearably wound up by your little performance.

"Can I have you inside me now, baby? I want your cock so fucking bad." You whimper, tying a knot of pleasure inside yourself that won't hold much longer.

"You can if you want to, sweetheart. But I'd love nothing more than to see you make yourself cum. Can you make a mess for me like a good girl?" Oddly enough, he's the one in control now without even touching you. Shit, he's an evil little genius sometimes.

"I'll be a good girl for you, Eds." You pant, increasing your speed as he stares you down like a starving animal. "Oh, god, I'm so close already." You try to keep the noise down, biting your lip to stifle the moans. Your juices drip down your fingers, gathering into your palm. Eddie's taking in every last detail as you bring yourself to climax, holding back his own high for your sake. He wants you to ride him relentlessly, and the perfect way to get you to do that is to give you an orgasm first. For some reason, one is never enough for you. You always need at least one more to be fully satisfied, and that fact makes him positively wild inside.

Your eyes have screwed shut, and your lips stay parted just enough to let the sweetest noises escape. Your hips begin to buck forward every so often, jolts of pleasure striking your most sensitive parts. You're sheened over in sweat, he can sense you're just on the edge of total bliss. "That's it, keep going. Such a perfect little slut for me. Look at me while you cum, sweetheart." You force your eyes open, chest heaving as you feel the knot you've tied snap into smithereens.

"Eddie一" You bite your free hand to hold back the scream that's trapped within your lungs. Your legs shake, blazing sparks shooting through your body. Arousal rushes from your cunt, spilling onto the carpet. Your walls clamp onto your fingers, trapping them inside as you convulse through your high.

"That's my girl, you did so well." Eddie coos, it takes everything in him not to blow his load at the sight of you. Your knees buckle, and you slump onto the floor for a moment to recover. Your digits are still stuck inside you, you try to release them through your aftershocks. You finally pull them free, moaning at the loss of being filled up. "You ready for me, baby? Or are you done?" He asks, though he knows you're far from finished.

"You really need to ask?" You say breathlessly as you stand again. You climb onto the bed with your back to him. You rest on your knees on either side of him, taking his swollen cock in your hand. He groans at the contact, overly sensitive from waiting so long. You slowly drag his tip through your slippery folds, moaning just a tiny bit louder than you mean to when he touches your clit.

"Shh, gotta be quiet, angel." Eddie warns sweetly. He doesn't imagine Claudia wants to hear you two having sex after what's happened in the last twenty-four hours. You nod, savoring how good he feels against you. You sense he wants you to stop teasing, guiding his length to slowly push into you. His tip disappears into your dripping cunt, and he moans quietly at the beautiful image. You let him out of your grip, sliding yourself down onto him fully.

"Oh, my god." You gasp as he fills you up in the best way possible. You hold his knees just like the picture in the book, using your own as leverage to lift yourself up before sinking back down. "This is so fuckin' perfect, Eds." You confess to him, your stomach rubbing against his thighs as you start to ride.

"Wish you could see the view from here, my cock sliding into that pretty pussy of yours. God, it's fuckin' beautiful." Eddie groans, wishing you'd go faster. You're so hot and wet around him, hugging him the way he likes.

His words fuel your fire, and you bounce on him harder and faster. He hits your g-spot just right every time you land on him, you're quickly building up to come crashing down again. "You feel so good, baby. I'll never get enough of you." You confess, needing Eddie to know everything you think about him.

"I'll never get enough either, princess. Are you getting close?" He doesn't want to rush you by any means, but he's so very near to losing it. He wants to give you what you need, wishing he could use other parts of himself to help you get off. You increase your speed in response, which he takes as a big fat 'yes'. He might not be able to do much, but he can hold your waist to pull you harder onto him. He grips your sides with his bandaged hands, making you gasp. Your skin slaps against his, the two of you sweating profusely.

"Shit, Eddie. Just like that, fuck." You groan through clenched teeth, forcing yourself to keep the noise down. Eddie's tip kisses your sweet-spot harder and faster with his hands guiding you, pounding you into your next orgasm. "I'm gonna cum, baby. Have I been a good little whore for you?" You ask, tempted to look back at him for his response. But you don't want to disrupt the delicious sensation you're feeling.

"Always, babydoll. I'm right behind you, cum for me." He yanks you even harder into him, which sends you flying over the proverbial cliff into a chasm of ecstasy.

"Eddie!" You cry out, before biting down into his leg to conceal any further noise. You shake uncontrollably once again, with Eddie still rutting you into him. You try to keep up your movements to bring him down with you, which only extends your pleasure. Cum gushes out of you, flowing down your thighs, and onto Eddie's stomach. But he doesn't stop, despite the fact that you're both becoming very slippery.

"Shit, Y/N." He grunts, unable to contain himself. He keeps an iron grip on you as his load empties into your cunt. You continue moving until both your highs run their course, relishing every last thrust before collapsing against his thighs. Your breath comes out harsh and ragged, fighting for air.

"Well, looks like we'll need another shower." You joke, letting yourself melt into a satisfied pile of goo. You lay your head on his knees, sighing in contentment.

Eddie chuckles beneath you, caressing your sides with his hands. "That we do, angel. Not to mention some clean sheets."

"Mhm. What time is it?" You ask as your eyes drift closed. Eddie's gone soft inside you, but you can't be bothered to move just yet. He doesn't appear to be in any kind of rush, either, still running his large fingers along your waist and back. It's very soothing, therapeutic, even.

He turns his head to glance at the clock. "A little after noon. How about we get cleaned up and have some lunch, love?"

"I suppose we should, although I'd much rather sit on your dick all day." You say cheekily, clenching around him to emphasize your point.

"Jesus, Y/N.'' He groans, overstimulated from being sheathed inside you longer than usual. You giggle at his reaction, bracing your hands on his knees as you slowly remove yourself from your favorite place. The two of you hiss at the sensation, rather worn out now. You manage to stand, walking over to the closet to retrieve your bathrobes. Eddie gets up after you, taking the frilly garment to cover up with.

You scurry to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You go over to the shower to turn on the faucet, before helping Eddie remove his bandages. "I'll help you put on new ones once we're all clean, baby." You realize his hands are completely bare, something you've never seen before. "What happened to your rings, Eds?" You ask, hoping he didn't lose them.

"Left ‘em in my jeans pocket. I forgot about them until just now, actually. I can't exactly wear them until these cuts heal." You inspect his knuckles, which are all split open pretty deep from him punching Jason so hard. You tut at the state of them, you hate to see him injured like this.

"I'll dig them out of the laundry so they don't get lost, I know they're important to you." You say, unable to hide your sullen tone.

"Not nearly as important as you, sweetheart." Eddie's words cheer you up a little, a slight smile twitching on your lips. "There's that smile I love. C'mon, we've gotta wash up." He leads you over to the shower, stepping in after you. You assist him in washing his hair, making sure he's turned away from the water so he doesn't mess up his cast. You wash your own hair and body, which Eddie watches closely. He can't help getting a little hard again, but he has no intention of acting on it. You've both had enough, there has to be some energy left for tonight. This dinner will be far from easy for you, and he has to be giving 100% to support you.

You finish off the shower by sudsing Eddie down, smirking when you notice his erection. You let him be, you've got to show restraint at some point. He rinses off, and you help him dry off and put on fresh bandages before returning to your room to get dressed. You reach into the laundry basket to locate Eddie's dirty jeans, feeling around in the pockets until you pull out his rings. You hold them in your hand, noticing the true weight of them for the first time. "How do you wear these all the time? Don't your fingers get tired?" You ask curiously, the metal clinking in your palm as you toy with them.

"I dunno, I've had 'em for years. Got used to it, I guess." He replies, pulling on some clean pants and snaking his signature belt through the loops. You place the rings on your nightstand, standing in front of Eddie. He hasn't put a shirt on yet, a couple drips of water from his hair running down his chest. You wrap your arms around his middle, laying your cheek on his warm skin. "What's up, angel?" He asks, putting his arms over you to keep you close.

"I just like holding you, Eds. Is that okay?" You feel silly even asking, he loves it when you show him affection.

"Of course it is, princess. Always." He says sweetly, sighing when you nuzzle against his shoulder. "You're real cute, you know that?" He muses.

"Mhm, always." You quip, making you both laugh. "You're very cute, too, among other things." You say as you playfully twirl the tuft of hair on his chest with your finger. You pull away after a moment, letting him fully dress. Your stomach is begging for food, the sound growing louder as the minutes tick past.

You and Eddie spend the next few hours having a simple lunch and watching TV on the couch. You anxiously wait for your mother to corral you into the car for dinner, hoping this evening won't turn into a blowout. You lay against the armrest with Eddie between your thighs, stroking his hair mindlessly. His hands run up and down your legs in a gentle rhythm, you're both very touchy without even thinking about it. Dustin returns home from his own tests, giving you two a brief greeting and heading to his room to change his shirt. He comes back out to join you and Eddie in the living room. "How'd it go, Dustin?" Eddie pipes up, and Dustin beams at him.

"Easiest. Tests. Ever!" Dustin says, which earns him a high five from Eddie. He plops down into the armchair, crossing his ankles as he smirks in self-satisfaction.

"Good to hear, big guy." Eddie replies with a chuckle, shifting in his spot to get a little closer to you. The three of you talk for a bit, shooting the breeze. A little bit later, Mom emerges from down the hall. She's dressed nicer than usual, and she's wearing a full face of makeup. That's not like her at all. You assume she's trying to impress Angie, for some strange reason.

"Alright, kiddos. Let's hit the road." She says, eyes shifting nervously between your faces. Everyone gathers their shoes and belongings, heading outside to pile into the car. Dustin sits shotgun this time, with you and Eddie in the back. You stare out the window, knee bobbing as your heart rate steadily increases. Eddie notices your nerves, taking your hand in his from across the backseat. You glance over at him, plastering on a smile. He gives you a sympathetic look, telling you everything will be okay in his own special way. Mom pulls the car into a new restaurant at the edge of town, it just opened a few months ago. 'Applebee's Neighborhood Bar & Grill', the large sign with an apple in the logo says.

The parking lot is pretty full, you imagine it's very crowded inside. Mom glances at her watch, telling you that Angie wanted to meet up in the parking lot before heading inside. You all step out of the car, looking around to find a woman with two kids parked somewhere in the crowd. Your eyes fall on an elderly couple leaving after the early-bird special, some young adults going in to watch 'the game', until you land on a woman with bleached blonde hair. She's standing beside a cherry red convertible, with two small children that look the spit of her. "Found them." You say to the group, pointing to let Mom lead the way. Eddie stays glued to your side, not letting go of your hand.

"Hey, Angie!" Mom calls as the four of you walk over. The woman turns to meet her gaze, and you take in her appearance. She's exactly how you pictured. Blonde updo, trashy cheetah-print clothes, gaudy jewelry, and far too much makeup. The typical slut all the married men love to cheat with. Eddie notices your face hardening as you get closer.

"Relax, baby." He whispers in your ear, which softens you slightly. You nod without looking at him, squeezing his hand a little tighter.

"Claudia. Glad you could make it." Angie speaks in a high-pitched, nasally voice. Shit, the jokes are writing themselves. This is gonna be even harder than you thought. "I’m sure your Mom has told you, I’m Angie. And these are my kids, Jake who's seven and Polly who's five." She gestures with her spindly, red fingernails to acknowledge the children who stand silently at her sides. Jake is dressed in overalls and a striped t-shirt, whereas Polly is wearing a pink frilly dress with matching bows. They don't seem to understand who you are, or why they're in this strange place. They clutch Angie's stocking-clad legs, clearly very shy. You feel bad for them, their faces are a little puffy from crying. But then you remember why they even exist, averting your eyes to stop giving them any sign of sympathy.

"Hey there, kiddos! It's nice to meet you! I'm Claudia, and this is my son Dustin, who's seventeen." Mom nudges Dustin to say hello, which he does awkwardly. "And this is my daughter Y/N, who's twenty-one. And her boyfriend, Eddie."

Angie inspects you and Eddie suspiciously, smirking at how battered and bruised you look. You can sense a particular term blossoming in her mind, 'daddy issues'. Well, you're the one that gave them to me, bitch. You think as you glare at her. "Hi." You say incredulously, trying to set her hair on fire with your mind.

"It's nice to meet you, kiddos. George told me about you all the time. Both of you have gotten so big!" You want to punch her, knock that stupid smile off her overly-painted face. How dare she say such a thing, and how dare your father even pretend he gave a shit about you or your brother. Everyone stands in silence for a moment, not sure what else to say. Angie pipes up again, steering clear of the tender subject for the time being. "Well, I called ahead and got us a table! Shall we head inside?" She gestures with her hands to the entrance, clicking on her heels as she walks ahead with Jake and Polly.

"If she keeps up like this, there's gonna be two funerals this week." You mutter through clenched teeth, feeling your blood pressure rise as the seconds pass. Eddie stops the two of you walking, falling behind the group.

"What's wrong?" Mom asks as the others stop to look at you.

"We'll catch up with you, Ms. Henderson. I think Y/N needs a second." Eddie calls, and Mom shrugs before turning to walk inside with the others. Eddie turns to you, putting his hands on your shoulders. "Sweetheart, you've gotta calm down." He says, worried that you'll attempt to kill Angie before you even get your order taken.

You sigh harshly, trying to steady your pounding heart. "I know. I just- I can't." You look at him with pleading eyes. You just want to turn around and leave. You don't care what Angie has to say, you don't care about any of this. There's no way you can sit down and eat a meal with that woman.

"Yes you can, Y/N." You shake your head, holding back frustrated tears. "Look, let's take a breather, 'kay? But I'm not letting you back out of this. You're the bravest, and the strongest woman I know. Are you really gonna let that bimbo get under your skin in the first five minutes?" Eddie smirks to encourage you, knowing you're more than capable of handling this. He also knows if he frames this in a way to play into your petty side, you'll be on your best behavior just to spite Angie.

"I hate how good you are at pep talks." You pout, crossing your arms dramatically as you hide a smile. He always knows exactly what to say. "C'mon, let's get this over with." You sigh deeply, pulling him along. The two of you step inside, the restaurant is absolutely bustling. You see Mom and the others at a large corner booth at the back, pointing the way for Eddie to keep up.

"There you two are! I hope it wasn't something I said." Angie greets you when you reach the table. Anger flares behind your eyes again, but you feel Eddie's thumb stroking your hand to soothe you.

"Not at all. It's just been a hard week." You say in a sickly sweet tone, hiding your fury behind fake happiness. You're nauseated by this little act, but you know the saying: 'Fake it til you make it'. Dustin and Angie's kids are sitting on the one end, with Mom and Angie in the middle. This arrangement would force you to sit right next to the whore, when Eddie takes the lead to sit there instead. It ought to keep you from stabbing her with your fork.

"Thanks, Eds." You whisper in his ear, and his hand goes to your thigh to say 'you're welcome'.

"Well, the waitress came by with the menus already and I ordered both of you a beer. I hope that's alright." Angie says, handing two menus off to you and Eddie.

"That's fine. Thanks." You reply, taking a look to see what to order. You really aren't in the mood for food, but it would be rude to not get anything.

"Thank you." Eddie adds, avoiding Angie's gaze. She's taking a closer look at him now, from what you can tell.

"You've certainly picked a handsome one, Y/N." Her nasal squawk rings in your ears. You imagine her scream is probably only audible to dogs.

You notice Eddie's cheeks burning, he must be very uncomfortable under her stare. "Yep, he's absolutely gorgeous, even when he's beaten and bruised. And he's all mine." You can't help getting territorial on your final word, reaching over so she can see you grip Eddie's thigh roughly. He holds back a groan, regretting his decision to put himself between the two of you. "What sounds good to you, darling? Maybe we can share something? I'm not very hungry tonight." You look at him, drawing his face to yours.

"Um...I-I'm not sure. I haven't had a chance to look yet." He says sheepishly, fumbling to open his menu. The conversation turns to how school is going for you and Dustin, plus a few more questions about Eddie and how he got his injuries. The waitress comes by with your drinks, and you happily down a third of your beer in one go. You need some booze if you're gonna make it through this meal. You all rattle off your orders, and you notice Angie ordering a salad. Of course, to keep her slutty figure, right? Eddie struggles to drink from his glass, so you open up a straw and stick it in his beer. "Thanks, baby." He says, bringing the plastic tube to his lips.

Angie brings up your dad a lot more now that the food is going to take a while to be ready. It's odd, you know Mom hasn't told her anything about the last nine years. There's no way. But the manner that Angie speaks in, it's almost like she knows everything about you. Where the hell did she get that from? What is she playing at? The problem you're having overall, though, is that she doesn't seem that bad. Outside of her cheap hooker looks, she's a sweet, caring woman. There's nothing inherently wrong with what she's saying, or the way she's saying it. She's just trying to relate to you. And you hate her for it.

The food arrives a bit later, and the conversation dies down in favor of filling your bellies with burgers, salad, and macaroni and cheese. You and Eddie split a cheeseburger with fries, with you cutting the sandwich in half this time. Eddie's nervous about you holding a knife, but you seem to have cooled off a little for the time being. He glances at your beer glass, noticing it's almost empty. Oh, princess, he thinks to himself, knowing you're trying your best to hold it together. There's moments where he catches a glimpse of you fighting back tears, or concealing a potentially snarky comment towards Angie. He rewards you with some light caresses on your thigh, and your eyes snap to his for a moment.

I hate this, love. You send the words telepathically, hoping he can read your expression. He just nods, moving his hand to your back instead. Your lip trembles occasionally outside your control, it's taking all your inner strength not to fall to pieces. You can't let her see you cry. You can't let her think you're mourning George for a single second. You take a glance at Dustin, who's currently entertaining the little ones. They're actually smiling, giggling even as he shows them some basic magic tricks. Quarter behind the ear, severed thumb, simple stuff. The display is rather cute, and you forget how awful every other part of this evening has been.

The check comes around finally, and Angie insists on paying for everyone. Dad must have been rolling in it at the car dealership she was telling you he worked at. "Hey, Claudia? Can you take Jake and Polly with you to the car? I wanna have that talk with Y/N I was telling you about." She gives Mom a knowing look, which makes your eyebrows knit in confusion. What the fuck is going on here? Claudia leads the kids outside, leaving you, Eddie, and Angie alone at the booth. She scoots down a foot or so, giving you some space. She can tell you weren't too keen on being squished next to her during dinner. She looks at you anxiously, twiddling her manicured thumbs. "So...you're probably wondering what this whole thing is about." She says, waiting for a response.

"Yeah. I truly have no idea what the hell we could possibly have to discuss." You reply, letting your attitude come out to play a little bit. She scoffs, admiring your spunk.

"Well, there's some things I felt you should know before Friday. I can tell you don't like me very much, Y/N. I wouldn't either, if I was in your shoes. You have every right to be angry with me. But I want you to have all the facts before passing judgment." You watch her closely, wondering where she's going with this. When you don't say anything else, she turns to her purse to pull something out of it. It looks like a bundle of letters, envelopes torn open and creased at the rubber band binding them together. Angie slides them across the table, and you catch them in your hand.

"The hell are these?" You ask, assuming they're love letters your father wrote to her or something.

"Those are the reason why I know so much about you, Y/N. When George left your mother, she made it a point to track us down using a private investigator. Once she did that, she started sending those. Every birthday, Christmas, graduation, et cetera, she sent a letter to let him know just what he was missing." Your jaw drops at this revelation, Mom never told you about this. You look at the envelopes to find that, sure enough, they're all addressed from Mom to their new home in Chicago. "She also made a point to tell him to never write back, or call, or visit. She said he lost the right to be your father, and George agreed."

"You're damn right he did." You blurt out, unable to hide your frustration any longer. You lean forward, narrowing your eyes. "So...what? You want me to feel all warm and fuzzy inside after showing me this shit? He felt so awful about leaving my mother for you, his secretary, that he kept these fucking letters as self-punishment?"

"I don't expect you to do anything. I just一 I wanted you to see that he still cared for you, despite his mistakes." Her tone changes, she really expects you to buy this horseshit. Eddie watches wordlessly as you two Duke it out with your words, keeping his hand on you as some form of comfort.

"Well, clearly he cared more about getting some young pussy than being there for me, or Dustin, or my mom." Angie's mouth falls open at that, making her look like a blowup doll. Maybe that was part of her appeal to your father. "Is that all? Because I think we're just about done here." You almost spit your words, wanting to hurt her. You start to stand, before she speaks again.

"I want you to give the eulogy, Y/N." She almost shouts, an effort to keep you from storming out. You plop back down in your seat, looking at her like she's grown a third eye on her forehead.

"What?" You ask, hoping you’ve imagined that last part.

"I want you to give the eulogy at George's funeral. You can say whatever you want, no matter how brutal. I see now how much he hurt you, and I don't take your words personally." She speaks carefully, fully aware that you're brimming with anger and resentment. "I loved your dad, whether you like it or not. You can call me a whore, like the rest of this town does. I probably am one, if I'm being honest. It was wrong of me to break up your family."

"Did it take you a whole decade to figure that out?" You cross your arms, slumping back against the seat.

Angie sighs, placing her hands on the table to regain focus. "Look, obviously things didn't pan out how anyone thought they would. But please, I want you to have this chance to say goodbye, and to let go of the suffering we put you through. Not for my peace of mind, but for yours. That pain you're holding onto for dear life will eat you alive from the inside out, I promise you that." She implores you to listen, to at least consider this idea.

You just gawk at her, wondering if you've gone insane. The one thing you've wanted to do since you found out Dad died, is to tell everyone exactly how you feel about him and what he did. And here is the woman you’ve blamed for all life's problems, offering you that exact opportunity. "I'll think about it." You reply, standing to leave once again. You glance at the letters sitting on the table, before looking at Angie one last time. "Can I keep these?" You ask, wanting to know what exactly Mom wrote. You hope she didn't hold anything back.

"Yes, please. I've probably read them a thousand times. I don't need them anymore." She sniffles, carefully wiping away tears.

You take a second before speaking again. "Just, answer one question for me?" You ask, your own eyes beginning to water.

"Anything, hon." She gives you a small smile, which you can't help returning.

You're unsure why you're about to ask this, but it's like you're being compelled to. You have to know the answer to the one question you've had all these years. "Did he ever want to come back?" Your lip is trembling again, but you don't care if she sees you let go this time.

"Every day, sweetie. Even if it was only to say goodbye, one last time." She assures you, making your hand clench tightly around the bundle of papers.

To be continued...

[icedragonlizard]

I very much like my headcanons of all the villain-turned-dream-friends still being very flawed people one way or another.

I'd say that they could all be considered morally grey to various degrees. Some may be nicer than others, but overall I wouldn't really call any of them saints. None of them are irredeemably evil, and Kirby is friends with every single one of them, but they're all still flawed. And Kirby is basically their 'parole officer' as he keeps them all in check.

This post got quite long as I wrote everything I wanted, so I'm gonna post a 'Keep reading tag' down below.

Feel free to click on it if you'd like to see my interpretations on the flaws of some Kirby characters! I'll be covering Marx, Dark Meta Knight, Daroach, Magolor, Taranza, Susie and the mage sisters here.

Marx may be on Kirby's good side now as he's not looking to attempt conquest on Popstar again, but he's still essentially an agent of chaos. He's loud, he's obnoxious, he's widely known to be a prankster, and he loves getting a rise out of people. He enjoys causing scenes purely for the sake of it. And his sense of humor isn't exactly good at having tact, as he'll make jokes out of things that most others wouldn't dare do. He can be considered the most insufferable one out of the bunch.

But there are good qualities to him, too. Some people legitimately think he's the funniest guy alive, so there's that. Marx loves attention in general, regardless if it's bad or good attention, and so he gets delighted if someone likes him and enjoys his antics. He loves it when people decide to join him on mischief. If you're his friend, he'll often give you stuff to laugh about and you're likely to find yourself having fun with him. If he likes you enough, he'll even stand up for you if someone else antagonizes you. His friends are literally his homies.

He's still quite the wild creature, though. It requires a lot of patience and a lax/chill attitude to be able to put up with Marx. It's not uncommon for him to find ways to instigate chaos in Star Allies gatherings. But he CAN be forced to behave, albeit not always easily. Kirby and Magolor are the ones that can most easily get him to listen.

Dark Meta Knight is still a standoffish jerk with a temperament. He's rude, brutal, and isn't at all afraid to say things that might run shivers down people's spines. He's prone to violence if he feels even the least bit agitated. He's also a rather detached person that does not care to make friends with most of the other star allies, and is quite a big hater for the ones that get on his nerves. He has a bad habit of being too blunt about wishing death or general ill-will for people he hates.

Not just that, but I headcanon that Dark Mind is technically still alive as a neutralized little fragment that desperately needs assistance. DMK hasn't given up trying to bring DM back to its former glory, and is still devoted enough to do what DM asks of him to do. It's not actually as frightening as it sounds, though. Trying to bring DM back to its former glory may be impossible due to how much it'd take, so that threat may not warrant much concern, but DMK still strives for it.

But DMK can be kept in check at times by a few others in the cast. I headcanon that DMK is friends with Daroach, Adeleine, Ribbon and Kirby, and he does care about what they think of him. But I hc those are the only friends he has in the cast, as he's the dream friend with the least amount of friends. He doesn't care about anyone else. He's also willing to do art stuff with Adeleine, and will protect his friends from danger. But overall, DMK is still a ruthless son-of-a-gun.

Daroach has a notably kind-hearted side to him, but he's also absolutely still a thief. Some people are ticked off by his persistent thievery. He likes the challenge of breaking into certain areas and to see what's he capable of successfully stealing. This can get especially irritating for some if he's brought the entire squeak squad with him for these instances. Daroach also has a trollish/smug side to him, as he thinks it's funny to get reactions out of people as he steals from them.

He does have standards, though. There are people that Daroach will NOT steal from. This includes Kirby, Adeleine, the entirety of Ripple Star (he'd feel bad to rob from that planet) and he also respects Meta Knight enough to never steal anything from the Halberd. He's also a softy around Kirby. And there's times in the day where Daroach decides to be chill and not steal anything. He can be quite a laidback bro if he's your friend. He has a big sense of humor and if you don't mind him pulling lighthearted fast ones on you, he'll gladly do that.

But he's still our resident thief! Hahaha. And he often has a rather shady demeanor that might make some people put their guards up.

Magolor did make a well known apology and created an amusement park to back it up, but I headcanon he's still very much a flawed person. Much like his buddy Marx, Magolor is a mischievous prankster that likes getting a rise out of people at times, although he's much more tactful than the jester in this regard. There's other problems with Magolor, like how he often says awkward things that make it evident he doesn't have the best understanding of social cues. He also has a tendency to insert himself into things, due to still having a bit of an ego, and he can sometimes be a blatantly obvious suck-up.

It's also arguably somewhat flawed morality-wise on Magolor's behalf to have made all the masks he did for Merry Magoland. He had great intentions with that, as he wanted to honor many people with that, but he made a lot of them without permission. And it ended up being pretty awkward for some people to see the masks. Thankfully, it didn't elicit any reactions bad enough for Magolor to lose any friends, but he arguably should've gotten many people's permission first.

Magolor is still buds with Kirby despite his current flaws, though. And he actually cares about being liked and cares about making people have fun, and so he makes sure that he has standards accordingly for that. He also just has very weird ways of going on about trying to be a better person than what he was before. But regardless, he's trying!

Taranza may be mourning the death of his beloved queen, but as a matter of fact I do not headcanon him to be a complete softboy! Once enough time passed for him to start properly recovering from his loss, he's eventually started coming back to being a snobby rich-theater kid type of guy like he was before. He can be very bizarrely smug and confident at times. He has an iconic devious smile. He makes webs at people's homes with often trollish messages. Don't be surprised if he sneakily rearranges the stuff in your home without you looking.

And believe it or not, he also has a secretly vengeful and vindictive side to him. He'd love to torment and beat up everyone that picks on him. And because it was a dimensional mirror that corrupted his queen, he heavily resents the mirror world and talks smack about its inhabitants. Honestly if he saw a dimensional mirror again he'd love to break it and smash it to pieces. He also legit wants DMK to die.

But overall, Taranza is no serious bad guy anymore. He does have a definite nice and caring side to him. He's really grateful to all of his friends that have helped him out with his grief (especially Susie, who understands him better than anyone else does) and he'd panic like frick when one of his friends gets hurt. He doesn't want to lose any of his current friends, the last thing he needs is MORE things to grieve over. He's also glad to show people about flora. He's also still just a silly-ass rich theater guy that can be quite a big, dramatic handful.

Susie, while no longer the terrifying colonizer she once was, is still very much a corporate-minded woman with a lot of unhinged stuff going on with her. The HWC's practices are substantially improved in her rule compared to what it was in her dad's rule, but she still makes corny business decisions at times. She has a notable stubborn streak, and is often a bit too blunt and formal to people she isn't close enough to be friends with. She's also feisty and a bit too ruthless when it comes to combat, as it may require others to calm her down. And like Magolor, she gets awkward at times with her low understanding of social cues.

She's also still a mad-scientist at heart, although she's mostly stopped mechanizing people (except for those that explicitly WANT it) and has largely shifted to applying her mad-scientist desires on inanimate objects such as toys and accessories. I headcanon that Susie has an entire hobby of making super-detailed custom furbies as I wrote a post about it. But despite the improved shift, she often gets way ahead of herself when experimenting on inanimate objects to the point that the final result of her creations are pretty darn freaky and unnerving to some people. She really loves doing it, though! And the unhinged level of detail to her creations can be hilarious to some.

Susie does have friends that she cares about, and she lets them reign her in as she doesn't want to disappoint them. And despite usually being rather cold, she's not entirely without her kind moments. Susie is at her nicest when interacting with Taranza and Kirby, and she has other friends like Magolor and the mage sisters that she can be great with. Her friends are the one thing that help motivate her to get better. But despite that, Susie is still absolutely a big handful in terms of flaws. She's still a vindictive, standoffish, corporate mad-scientist that's ballsy enough to constantly snap back during confrontations!

The Mage Sisters are still chaotic menaces. They're exceptionally grateful to Kirby and co. for saving them and Hyness in HiAD, and so they definitely ain't doing that Void Termina crap again, but these women still engage in absurdly violent and bombastic activities. They love to destroy random buildings for no real reason other than just for kicks and giggles. They cackle like hyenas when they cause mischief.

Francisca is perhaps the most obviously flawed mage sister, as she literally keeps her frozen trophy collection and even tries to expand it! That's a bruh moment. It doesn't exactly help that she's close buddies with Marx as those two will just make some absolutely absurd hijinks together. Her relatively quiet nature can also be rather unnerving. It's not all bad, though, as she can be genuinely sweet to people that she cares about. And she's kind enough to give you free water with her soda gun if you'd like that, but overall she's an extraordinary freak.

Flamberge is the nicest of the three mage sisters, but she still has her fair share of chaos as she loves causing big booms with her fire abilities. She can be considered a daredevil with that sort of thing. Another notable flaw with her is that she lets Francisca get away with anything. She will NEVER hold her psychotic blue sister accountable. And there's of course her temperament, but she's surprisingly chill a lot of the time and is really only angry if given an actual reason to be.

Zan Partizanne can be quite rude with excessive name-calling, as she has a mentality of "it goes both ways" when her name can't be said right. If you can't say her name right, then she'll make it even by giving you some unhinged nickname. She also has a guilty pleasure of starting playful bickering matches with people purely for fun. That being said, she's something of a leader alongside Hyness at the Jambandran base and is always glad to help guide people around the place, but she can overall be quite a standoffish and feisty person.

The mage sisters do care about trying to be better, though. They want to make Kirby proud as he's essentially their little hero. They're still incredibly unhinged people by virtue of being raised in a literal cult, though, and they still love to start ruckuses and cause chaos. With the amount of mischief they cause with their weapons, it may be wise to keep some distance as to not get caught in their weapons' range.

-----

That's basically everything I got. All these characters are still very flawed people to me. They're all redeemable to various extents, but yeah. I like to think that they all need occasional slaps on the wrists by Kirby. He's their 'parole officer' like I said at the beginning of the post. He keeps them in check. And it works as they all respect him!

But despite sometimes slapping them on the wrists, Kirby does care about all these people. He's friends with all of them. He cheers them on as they progress in life. When they do good things, he's proud of them! He also can't help but feel sorry for the more traumatized ones.

Kirby has remarkable tolerance. He can basically be friends with bad people, lol. He always has faith and sees the good in people. He's the perfect little guy to motivate people to get better. He can keep someone in check from doing bad things, and is merciful enough to always give them a second chance. Man, thank this universe for Kirby!

Thanks for reading if you did. See you for the next one.

[angelsanarchy]

Alkaline: Euronymous x Y/N Series CH 6

Tagging: @ophelialaufey @madamemaximoff06 @forever-not-gonna-sink @ajmiila02 @liquidsmoothdomme @shady-the-simp @that-one-persons-posts

TW: Self Harm, Blood

Y/n knew that tonight was Mayhem's first show and as much as she wanted to be there for support, she knew she had to work. She had tried to call and wish him good luck but she got the voicemail. Since he lived with the band, she decided against leaving a message and just hoped he would come by and tell her how it went.

When they all piled into the restaurant, face paint half smudged off and louder than normal, Hammed started taking orders as quickly as he could. Y/n couldn't really interact at the moment as she was working the line instead of tables. The amount of drinks she had to uncap hurt her hands but she made sure to stack them all on a tray to be dropped off to them. Once Hammed got tired of taking orders, he switched onto grill and Y/n was able to greet Oystein.

"How did it go?" She asked brightly seeing little bits of his makeup still on the corners of his eyes and mouth.

"It went really well. Wish you could have seen it." He smiled back taking his food.

"Maybe someday." She knew it wasn't her scene but she would tough it out to see Oystein play.

"You didn't stick around for the party. I looked for you but they said you took off pretty early." He looked disappointed.

"I was still on the clock so I couldn't really stick around. I figured you wouldn't even have noticed surrounded by groupies." Y/n tried to keep it light but Oystein screwed up his face.

"Hardly. I don't give a shit about groupies." Y/n felt a slight uptick in her heart but she didn't want him to know it. She took a napkin and leaned over the counter to rub some of the smeared makeup away from his eye.

"I'm definitely going to need a shower at some point." Oystein laughed.

"I'd say so. I can't believe you brought your stench in here with that crew of misfits." Y/n finally noticed Pelle sitting in a chair with his head down.

"Ey he might need some more tape." One of the guys shouted to Oystein.

"Hey do you have any duct tape?" Y/n cocked an eyebrow.

"Um we should. Let me check the back." Oystein nodded and went to sit his food down on the table. When Y/n found the tape, she walked of the door and immediately say Oystein trying to help Pelle pull tape from his bloody wrists.

"Fuck!" Y/n's eyes went wide pushing the swinging bathroom door and seeing what they were doing.

"What the fuck happened and why are you putting fucking duct tape on it?!" Y/n looked at Pelle who was paler than normal.

"It's not as bad as it looks." Oystein said stupidly. Pelle made eye contact with Y/n and she walked back out of the bathroom towards the office. She grabbed the first aid kit and her purse from her locker. When she returned they had gotten all the tape off and she was staring at how scarred his arms were.

"Grab me a chair from the table please." Oystein ran out to grab the chair and Pelle was shaking.

"You don't have to-" Pelle started.

"Listen, I'm not here to judge you. If you want to die or feel or whatever, its your life to have or end but you can't come here and expect me to serve meat sandwiches when you're bleeding out in a booth." Y/n wasn't trying to scold him. She had a brother who battled terrible mental illness so she knew the anguish someone must feel to do this to themselves but she knew Hammed would lose his shit.

Oystein sat the chair down and she pushed Pelle into it. She knelt in front of him and Oystein watched her clean his wounds up, disinfect them and attempt to put bandages on them.

"These are only butterfly band aids but you need fucking stitches, Pelle." Y/n was about to open her second box of band aids.

"Dead....my name is Dead." She clicked her tongue against her teeth annoyed.

"You know, these stage names are starting to piss me off." Y/n looked at Oystein in the mirror. She put a long gauze pad on his wounds before getting up from the floor.

"Take him to get stitches as soon as you can." Y/n said as Pelle walked past her as if she didn't just stitch up his gapping wounds.

"He'll be okay. I'll make sure to get him stitched up." Oystein assure Y/n as she cleaned up the bloody gauze and bandage wrappers. She felt a hand on her back and she tensed.

"Hey...it's fine. He's done much worse than that." Oystein's words made her turn around.

"I can see that but that doesn't mean he's fine. If anything he's furthest from fine Oystein." She felt a weight on her chest like she wanted to cry and he could tell she was upset. He pulled her to his chest and she dodged it as the door swung open again.

It was the guy who was lurking around at the party the other night.

"Hey I wanted to say you guys were very good tonight...at your gig. My name is Christian-"

"Do you see I'm a little busy here?" Oystein snapped. The way he spoke to Oystein gave off much different vibes than she would have thought. She assumed it was a friend but he came off more as a fanboy. He backed out of the bathroom leaving them both standing alone. Y/n quickly scrubbed her hands in the sink wanting to be out of that confined space.

"Y/n.." Oystein reached out again.

"I've got to get back to work." Y/n wiped her face and pushing past him. They continued to cut up and eat for another 20 minutes before they finally left. Y/n felt so tense and uneasy, all she wanted to do was scream.

[xxsycamore]

𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭, 𝐓𝐨𝐨

↬   🧡 Jin has been acting strange today. Before you can make a connection between all the strange things happening all day, he's got you head over heels for him once again.

Jin Grandet x f!Reader • rating: G • tags: Fluff; Established Relationship; Married Characters; Aged-Up Character(s)• wordcount: 1,111 • masterlist

For Cozytober 2023 by @randonauticrap . Prompt - No. 14: Lord Huron - The Night We Met Lyrics - "I had all and then most of you/Some and now none of you/Take me back to the night we met"

a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MADAME L!!! Here too, I want to wish you a very happy birthday, may your day be filled with all things you love, and I'll help a little bit by offering you this humble gift... I hope you enjoy, our dear resident Jin lover 🥺❤❤❤

Jin has been acting strange today.

It was around noon when you began looking around for him, remembering the plans you two made for your day off. It's strange that he hasn't monopolized your time since the very second you opened your eyes in the morning... which made you all the more determined to be the first to find him and not the other way around.

Strangely, everyone you ask gives a different reply as to where they saw him last. Leon for one sounded very confident about seeing him in the training grounds - while Yves was sure he had stopped by the kitchen just a couple of minutes ago.

You stand helpless in front of the palace gardens, autumn leaves dancing in the air with a gust of wind, as if to highlight the lack of any presence in the vast open space stretching out ahead of you. You sigh, noting the position of the sun and how it's been following you in your quest to find your lover, rolling across the sky faster now that the days are getting shorter.

You reach the sitting area and a gasp comes out of your mouth as if you refuse to believe your eyes. There, on the pink settee, that's definitely Jin just casually lounging around...

"Did you get lost in the palace?"

Lost? In the place you've been living for so long now?

"You look as if you just saw a ghost. Come here... this was our meeting spot for today, did you forget?"

Oh.

"Maybe I did? I don't know. I'm a bit distracted these days."

Jin smiles sweetly at you, standing relaxed as you take a seat next to him. As soon as you're close enough, however, his demeanor changes as he almost pounces on you, stealing your breath as he plants a passionate kiss on your lips.

You guess he missed you?

What you expected to end as soon as it began becomes deeper and fiercer, and even though you chuckle and pull away to ask him what's with him today, he doesn't let go. He just keeps on kissing you.

"I think I could spend my life with a girl like you."

Face burning red, you decide not to pay too much mind to the oddness of it and to enjoy his showcase of love instead.

It's evening when you get summoned to Leon's faction room. The fourth prince soothes your worries but still insists all of you wait for Jin before starting.

At last, Jin shows up. Takes out a lollipop. Banters with Yves. Tousless Yves' hair. Attempts to tickle Yves.

"Do we really have to do this part as well?!"

Huh?

Leon is quick to steal your attention with a well-timed cough before he addresses, at long last, the reason you're all gathered here. Apparently, it's something about an upcoming gathering with officials from abroad and it has to do with making a good first impression when it comes to introductions. You suggest Chevalier's faction should be the one working harder at these, but Leon only gives you an understanding look before asking Jin to introduce himself first.

"Jin Grandet. 34 years old, still in the prime of my youth. I'd say my best feature is those charming eyes of mine."

Before everyone can roll their eyes, and despite the fact that you feel the urge to do so yourself, you chime in: "Well, he's right."

Jin winks at you and continues.

"My hobbies are my wife, my wife, and my wife."

"You're the worst."

"You never shut up about your wife."

Noting the mood of the other princes based on these comments, Leon uncrosses his arms and calls it a night. Just like that. You thought he was way more tolerant and used to Jin's antics by now... and you also thought you'd be stuck here for much longer. But in the next second, you find yourself in the room alone with Jin who looks as if he has no intentions of getting up from the couch anytime soon.

He shifts the lollipop from one side of his mouth to the other with his tongue, the hard piece of candy clinking softly against the back of his front teeth.

"Sooo?" You ask, approaching him. "Are you going to tell me what all of this is about, already?"

"Why don't you take a seat?"

You spend a whole two seconds considering his offer before you sit down close enough to him that your knees are touching. The question still present in your eyes, you hold his gaze demandingly.

"I was thinking about you a lot lately."

"Jin, you always think about me-"

"And about the night we met. Well, the night I introduced myself to you."

All the pieces fall right into their places. That day, two years ago... you got lost in the palace, wandering off until you accidentally witnessed Jin kissing a woman in the garden, and...

When your mind goes to that place, your new, fresh memory of Jin kissing you breathless right there just earlier today domineers over the initial one.

And then when night fell, you now remember, you were right here in this very room, and...everything was just as it happened just now.

"You...recreated that day? But why?"

"Because I hate myself for giving you a bad first impression like that. I was such a fool. I had no idea how special you're going to become to me and... I don't want you to look back at those memories and remember me by all those awful things. And I wish I could rewrite much more than that first day. But unfortunately, I can't."

You take hold of Jin's face, suppressing the urge to seal his lips with your own so he doesn't say another word. Emotion rushes through you, and you lay your forehead against his shoulder instead.

"Jin, I could never trade our first memories together for anything. You know why? Because they're the proof of the long path we walked towards here."

Jin is at a loss for words, evident by the way he freezes and only after a few silent moments does he shift a little so he can stroke your back. When that ceases being enough to communicate how touched he is, he gently guides you to look him in the eye again.

"I love you more than anything. I love you so damn much."

You chuckle, rubbing your thumb across his chin as you get closer.

"Do you remember your next line?"

"No, I don't."

"If you keep staring at me like that, you're gonna make me think the feeling is mutual."

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[sunthyme]

BABE, WAKE UP! PART FOUR'S OUT! Anyways, thank y'all so much for the support!! Every time I read y'all's tags and comments, I tear up istg y'all are so sweet. Have some photos of my kitten as a treat.

Onto...

🏵️Scarabia🏵️

So I believe they have the least amount of members out of all my headcanoned dorms so if y'all can think of some more villains for me to twst, I'd be more than happy to toss them in here lmao.

🦦Kalim Al-Asim🦦

omg they have an otter emoji cute!!

(he/him) Transmasc - Panromantic Asexual

My baby boy is so precious omggg

- I really didn't change a lot from the og design tbh, I love him. I did give him rounder and bigger eye for that cute puppy-eyed look.

- Stuck some freckles on him and gave him a tooth gap for max cutie patootie status. Oh, and some scars from previous assassination attempts.

- I'm really partial to Kalim and Ruggie or Kalim and Silver personally (or both, Kaiplim does have two hands for a reason) but I see them as a little friend group regardless and he LOVES spoiling them.

- Ruggie at first befriended him for the money aspect but eventually grew to like being around Kalim anyways. Silver just likes to listen to Kalim talk. Was also his first friend outside of Diasomnia.

- Kalim has ADHD and dyslexia, making it super hard for him to concentrate in class so Ruggie helps him study for tests (Kalim always bring food along with so it's mutually beneficial lmao). Because of this, people end up thinking he's dumb but he's super intelligent, he just can't concentrate easily. Crewel lets him have different fidgets in class as long as he doesn't accidentally disrupt his potion-making with them.

- Kalim's also highly empathetic and view himself as a support to all (maybe I am a Kalim kin too, fuck). He loves to listen to other and help out. God, he's such a cutie omg. Also has really good memory in specific about remembering who tells him what.

God I love Kalim so much, the cutie patootie. Still on Book 4 so I don't know ALL of the shit that happens yet but y'know it's gonna make me cry.

Next is

🐍Jamil Viper🐍

(he/it) Agender - Gay Demi-romantic Asexual

If I didn't think I changed a lot about Kalim, I changed practically nothing about Jamil lol.

- Biggest change was giving him a much redder skin tone. Not only is it closer to Jafar's, I felt it would look really nice with his general colour palette.

- Made his face a bit more angular and 'snake-like', plus some fangs but you can't see them lmao. Dimples because every time this man actually smiles, a new angel is born istg.

- I love him and Azul as a dynamic because it's two really emotionally constipated people dancing around each with a fun amount of delulu on Azul's part, let's be honest. Lowkey could be toxic or healing, who knows?

- He purposefully cooks too much some times as an excuse to give some away. I see him slides over an extra thing of food to Azul at some point as a sort of 'repayment' for like give him the homework or something. (Azul loves his cooking but wouldn't say that to his face for a hundred dollars lol).

- He and Trey cook together and Trey is like the only other person Jamil trusts in the kitchen with him. Trey teaches Jamil his family's baking recipes and in turn, Jamil share his cultural recipes. Trey 🤝 Jamil solidarity.

- Hella competitive streak which means Azul and Floyd find it incredibly easy to push his buttons.

- I know this is a lot of AshenViper but I love them lol. Azul tries to flirt with Jamil subtly like in the mer fashion of penguin-pebbling but Jamil is obviously unaware of the custom so he doesn't get it. (He does keep all the little shiny things, though over his dead body would he tell Azul that.)

Enough about my two favourite dumbasses... now for my ocs!

🌅Dareen Irfan🌅

Third Year - (she/her) Nonbinary - Sapphic Asexual

God, this is just the dorm for asexuals, huh?

- Dareen is twisted from the Cave of Wonders! I could not for the life of me tell what kind of cat it was so she's kinds ambiguous, especially since there's already another tiger.

- She is a very knowledgeable person and knows pretty much everyone. If you need information about someone you wanna ask out, she's your girl. She love playing matchmaker but respects when someone is not reciprocating and helps the rejected party move on.

- She and Oki are friends and like to do tarot readings together. (She may or may not have a massive crush on her but refuses to say anything lol). Both are very interested in cultural practices and hang out a ton to talk about them. (God I love sapphics)

- She's actually also on the basketball team and she and Jamil get along pretty well. She's very fast on the courts and Oki attends all of her games.

Next is one of my favourite designs...

🌼Chunying Liu🌼

Third Year - (they/it/she) Genderfluid - Aromantic Bisexual

- Twisted from Shan Yu, from Mulan! I kept the greyer undertones in her skin which really makes her standout among the warmer ones lol.

- Kept the gold eyes, I love how piercing they look, and darker makeup. Turned the furs into little earring tassel things, idk just for fun.

- Definitely outdoorsy type, she loves to hike around a ton, bring some other classmen out with her. She comes from a hella cold climate so she's wearing shorts until it hits the negatives. Loves horseback riding too and her family has their own stables.

- Natural leader, I can see it being the captain of a sports team, maybe like cross-country or something. She and Leona are probably pretty similar in demeanour as captains, make of that what you will.

- Her and Rook do archery practise together and she actually gets along great with Epel, they bond over winter sports and whatnot.

Time for probably one of my favourites out of my ocs!

🐯Chanda Singh🐯

Second Year - (she/her) - Bisexual

God I love her sm.

- Twisted from Shere Khan from the Jungle Book, which I looked up and it takes place in India so she's Indian.

- I didn't want to give her solid orange hair so I settled for some streaks and I love how they look. Gave her a bindi, some thicker brows based on a Pinterest reference that I though was GORGEOUS, and some beautiful hazel eyes.

- She's also likes to be outside but more in the lazy cat way. She love to sunbathe and tends to be spotted around the greenhouse too. Chanda and Leona having cat solidarity lmaoooo. Though her behavior is solely because she's a cat and not depression lol.

- I dunno why but I think she's a totally history nerd, specifically fashion history. Ask her anything about the origins of corsets or sarees and she's go on a long rant about it. She loving drawing, namely fashion sketches and she and Vil work together whenever she makes some prototypes.

Finally!

🦜Nasira Haqq🦜

First Year (she/they) Unlabelled Gender - Bicurious?

- Twisted from Iago! She's so cute lol. I gave her dyed hair (and pronouns) and she's a freshman.

- Kinda takes after Jamil and enjoys cooking, one of the primary people that makes food for the parties. She and Kalim get along really well since they're both really social extraverts.

- She's loves flowers and tends to decorate the dorm with them, changing them out when there's an event coming up.

That's most of everything for Scarabia, I hope you enjoyed! Tyty once again and I love seeing y'all's tags omg!🩷🩷🩷