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asparagus-antics · 2 days ago

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There is like NOTHING for conquest 😭 nsfw alphabet for my favorite old man? Or just any crumbs in general I'll take it

NSFW Alphabet - Conquest

Here are the headcannons for my old man! I love him so much. Sorry if these are choppy or seem rushed, I really need to get back into my groove, man😭 I had a hard time writing these. I tried to keep this as gender neutral as possible, since I wasn't sure if you wanted a specific gender! Also, to give myself a little more of a direction to go in, this is Conquest x human reader. Enjoy!

Not proofread, sorry for any grammatical errors and or spelling mistakes!

18+, minors do not interact, please! - you are responsible for your own content consumption, the media below the cut will contain nsfw themes and explicit description of sex.

Aftercare - what they're like after

Conquest might not be too adapted to how soft humans are in comparison to viltrumites, so he might need some time adjusting—a gentle nudge in the right direction from time to time. Overall, he's generally like a huge cat. If this man could purr, he would; in fact, he can manage a hum so low it actually does really sound like one! He's a cuddler. Big, rough hands grab you as soon as he's down on the bed next to you, pulling you close and inhaling your scent like like the faint smell of your sweat is the most heavenly thing to him. He's scared he might hurt your body, so little compared to him even if you are tall for the average human, but the urge to pull you close and smother you in his big arms is something akin to cuteness agression. If you ask, he'll fetch you water or a snack, maybe a heating pad or an exrta blanket. Over time, though, he'll get used to what you usually desire after a few rounds, and after cleaning you up, he'll get them without a specific request needed.

Body part - whats their favourite body part? Theirs and yours

It might sound cliche, but if you were to ask him what his favourite part of you was, he would jump at the opportunity to say everything. The soft skin he can nuzzle his face into, the limbs that try to tangle themselves around him in a hug or the hands that scratch at his skin when he's so focused on your pleasure that he gets lost in it all. Your favourite part of him would probably be your hands, though. How gently they can handle him even when there really is no need. How soft they feel all over him and how you love to hold his big, calloused palm in yours. It grounds him, calms him down when needed, and he'd die a happy man if your hands were on him while he went. His favourite part of his body? His arms. How such muscular, big sources of power that have blown through civilisations could now cradle you so gently. How easily he could pick you up and carry you where you needed to go or throwing you up into the air like a little child to hear you laugh.

Cum - anything to so with cum, really

His loads? Huge. Downright terrifying because where has this poor man been storing all of this? He prefers to come inside, liking the sense of intimacy it brings him, the idea that some piece of him will be with you at all times for a few days at least. He definitely had a breeding kink that just goes wild at the sight of you on his dick. If it's not inside you, he'll cum all over your stomach, your face if you let him. He loves seeing you streaked in something so innately his, marked by the evidence of what you do to him. If it comes time to clean up the mess, he'll lick it all up himself without a single complaint to be heard. You don't prompt him to, you're just laying there, still coming down and catching your breath when you feel that hot tongue strace over the lines painted on your stomach, up to your chest and neck.

Dirty secret - whats a dirty secret of theirs?

Secrets? Not this mans thing. He'll blurt out anything that comes to mind no matter how vulgar it is. Honestly, it gets you blushing and embarrassed most of the time because it just comes out of nowhere! He doesn't even try to make it sensual. It's just him still getting used to the fact that humans aren't as direct. It's just a remark here and there, in the middle of you and him minding your own business, cuddling, or anything that might be happening.

Experience - how experienced are they? Do they know what their doing?

Conquest has gathered lots of experience over his.. what? Five thousand years of life? He's not ever really had a partner, or maybe has, but had never really been in love—hence his lonliness. Despite that, his experiences are plenty. Tons of hookups over the years from planets he's conquered (I mean, who could resist him? Even if he's murdering their people with a smile on his face? I couldn't.). Maybe one or two other viltrumites in his earlier years, but none in the later ones, since not many are even willing or daring to get close. He knows exactly what you need, even if he unintentionally handles you a bit rougher sometimes. He's attentive and more than eager to please you. There's never a one to one ratio on orgasms, which 100% of the time works out in your favour, even if unintentional. He just loves to have his hands on you, and he gets plenty carried away sometimes.

Favourite position - self explanitory

It depends on the sex. In his desperate, rough days, he enjoys doggy a lot. It gives him plenty of curves to grab, limbs to restrain and skin to lick and bite. It allows him to reach deep, to be able to push and pull you away, and to him, it lets him move your body to a way that feels good for the both of you. On his gentle days, when he really wants to savour the moment, he prefers missionary, maybe something with you on top. In these positions, he can really admire you, watch you move and react to all the sensations he's making you feel, and be able to press his skin to yours. He enjoys the contact and intimacy of it, revels in the way you cling to him, and move against him. Your pleasure is his, and it only heightens his excitement to know and feel that you're having a great time. He lives for it. If he could see it all day every day for the rest of his life, he would.

Goofy - are they more goofy or serious in the moment? Do they make jokes?

Jokes, maybe, but he's mostly more serious during. He wants to be focused on you and your pleasure, as well as his. His intensity usually doesn't leave a lot of room for cracking jokes. On the other hand, he is a huge tease. Some days (the rougher ones), he's relentless, taunting and teasing non-stop, driving you mad with touches without getting you anywhere. He'll sneer when you whine and beg, making remarks about the fact that you have to be patient for him, taunting you for being so desperate, all the while not letting up on any of the shit he's pulling.

Hair - how are they groomed? Do the carpets match the drapes?

It's all grey. Everywhere. Obviously. He's got a nice amount of chest hair that matches the remaining ones on his head and his moustache. His forearms have a nice coating, too, that looks absolutely amazing when he rolls his sleeves up. The muscles with a dusting of grey body hair absolutely gives him some sort of greek god look that he really pulls off. The hair on his chest conects a trail down his softer stomach to his pubes, which are very much there, but he keeps them trimmed nicely. He's definitely not shaven, but he's neat and tidy. It honestly looks nice, framing him just right.

Intimacy - how intimate are they in the moment?

There's always a sense of intimacy with him, rough or gentle. Either in way he looks at you, caressing over the planes of your skin softly or the ragged breaths in your ear as he lays himself over your back, his face over your shoulder as he grunts out praises to your fucked out body, his firm hands keeping you in place and his pace showing absolutely zero signs of faltering or stopping any time soon, no matter the rounds you've already gone. His hands are so big, either very capable of grabbing at each and every part of your flesh, groaning about how good you're doing and how nice you feel around him, or how they cradle your body as he moves so slowly, cherishing you like his most prised posession, looking you deep in the eye as he commits the sight of you right to his memories, to keep this piece of you with him always.

Jack off - anything to do with masturbation

That piece of you leads him right to here, preserved for when needed, for the occasions where one of you is away. He doesn't really enjoy masturbation as much, since he rarely sees need to if he can't spill anything into you or feel your warm, soft touch or the scratches along his arms, sides and back whike he's so engrossed in the pleasure of it all. It just doesn't feel as good; his hands could never recreate the feeling of yiu around him or your hands caressing him, your mouth moving over and around him till he's all happy and sated. If he really is that messed up over the fact he can't have you, and he really can't stop thinking about it, he'll frustratedly take himself in hand and just force everything out of him over the span of fifteen minutes to an hour, depending on how desprate he is.

Kink - a kink of theirs. What are they into?

He has a huge breeding kink. Huge. Most viltrumites don't need or desire sex outside of breeding urges. They don't see the need to look for a partner who will only slow them down or make them soft outside of missions. If they do have one, though, it's on. Conwuest would do anything to keep you stuffed full of him all the time. Whether it is indeed for breeding perpouses or judt the thought of you being so full of him, he wants you to drip it when he's done with you, so to speak. Because he will indeed not let you drip it. If it's not quicky, he loves to stay buried inside you even after he's softened, letting you rest in a position that will allow it, keeping everything he's poured into you firmly there with no escape. It fills him with a sense of pride and duty, even if it is just for himself.

Location - what's their favourite place to get into it?

He mostly just prefers a bed, where he can take his sweet, sweet time with you and enjoy you thoroughly. Though, if we're being real, he would take you anywhere. In the kitchen, outside, on the floor, in the air.. the list goes way on. If it is indeed in a bed, he loves it because he can pound you silly into the soft surface, watching you bounce with the movements his heavy build is forcing on the mattress.

Motivation - what turns them on? Gets them going?

Everything. The way you walk? His dick is hard. Give him one wrong look? He'll absolutely pound the thoughts out of you. Caress his face just right? He wants to take care of you and make you cum till you go deaf and blind. He's just an absolute sucker for you, as serious about you as he ever has been and ever will be about another being. He wants you always, all the time, everywhere at once. He knows how to reign himself in of course, but when it comes time for that sweet release, he will ravenge you for just about anything that you do.

No - something they won't do / turn off.

Outside of the morally messed up shit, even if his morals are kind of messed up, absolutely nothing. Your wish is his command; this man is a freak and is proud to let you know it. You want to try something new? On it, boss. He's ready. From vanilla things to stuff that would make the devil break out a sweat, perhaps a little blush. He's all yours, opwn to experimenting snd switching things up. Positions? This man can bend you into whatever shape you want. You taking charge? Go right ahead. Even if proportions are off or you are nervous about things, he'll do his absolute best and try his hardest to make everything judt as enjoyable for you as he can. I mean, he'll enjoy it regardless.

Oral - preference in giving / receiving, skill, etc.

He doesn't mind receiving head, though with his size, it's hard for anyone to fully take him. Even half would be more than enough for the average person, so he doesn't really expect it or request it a lot. Giving, on the other hand? This man will slobber over you aaaalll day. Sucking, licking. Just nuzzling into you and nudging with his nose, he's got it. He's messy with it, but it's intense and pleasureful. He'll have you coming with his mouth plenty of times before you even get to the big event if you let him. He'll keep going till you try to tug him up or whine for him that it's too much. He loves overstimulating all your nerves till you beg him to go easier, to at least let you catch your breath. Sometimes, though, as much as he loves hearing you beg, it falls on deaf ears anyway. He blames it on his age. Yeah, right.

Pace - are they fast, slow, stamina, etc.

He varies, but boy when he switches it up from one to the other? Slow, deep, more grinding than anything turns to your hips being lifted off of whatever surface you were on an held up by him as he plummets your depths like a man on a mission. He can be relentless, so quick and hard you'll definitely not be walking straight if at all tomorrow, but at the same time, he can be so slow, sometimes barely moving yet still so intense it gets you where you want to go, less intense than usual, it's a slow and rolling sensation that lasts a while, something that you feel you'll never come down from, so opposite from the harsh, quick snap and bursts that usually take place, though even that varied in it's levels of intensity.

Quickie - their opinion on them, how often, etc

He definitely prefers to be able to take his time over anything else, so quickies aren't really his deal. When you do have them, though, they're usually in a fit of desperation. Maybe squeeze one in one last time before saying goodbye for something like a mission or trip that the other can't join on, maybe after an argument of any kind.

Risk - are they game to experiment? Do they take risks?

Conquest gives absolutely no fucks when it comes to risking a lot of things, even his life, as we've seen. It exitedls him, gives him a rush. Getting beat up with thr risk of very bad bodily injury? Bring it on. Toying with people to bring out the absolute worst in them and taunt them till they snap? Definitely his dead. Something he doesn't like to risk, though? Is you. Seeing you in any type of trouble or danger would send him mad, so he doesn't like to risk anything dangerous, even if you are the type of person who gets a thrill from it just like him. A place where you risk being seen is okay with him, of course, since there is something so exiting about that, but anything that crosses his line of danger is off limits. Somewhere public, like a bathroom stall of storage closet? Have at it! He's more than happy to oblige you if that is something you're into or would be willing to try. Despite that, he couldn't bare seeing anything bad happen to you, especially if it could be partially caused by him. So, he'll play it safe with you, make sure everything you do together is something that could easily be fixed by him if something were to happen.

Stamina - how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?

All viltrumites have great stamina, since that was insured when only the most virile of the species were allowed to reproduce. Conquests stamina is something that never seems to run out, bred and trained for long and hard battle, sex is at the least of his worries when it comes to a workout. He can take you round after round after round until you're so spent you're barely awake, and he'll barely have broken a sweat, if at all. He'll let you rest when you're clearly too tired or you ask, of course, but trust me when I say that when you wake up, he's ready to go right back at it again.

Toys - Do they own toys? Do they use them?

I don't think he'd really have any at home, but if you suggest it, maybe give him some, he's eager to try it out. On you, on himself, whatevers possible. He wants to appreciate your gift to the fullest and is more than happy to do so. Things like vibes, he'll tease you for hours on end and try and figure out every single way to make you come using them. He enjoys seeing them used on you more, but if you want to he'll let you try whatever you want on him, just content to have you paying him such close attention, to have your hands on him making him feel so good in that way just you do.

Unfair - how much do they like to tease?

As mentioned before, Conquest will tease and edge you till you're begging and in tears if you let him. He loves seeing you desperate, hearing all the noises you make for him. The way you squirm and whine for him to just let you come already is just music to his ears and plenty of strokes to his ego. Knowing that this is the way he can make you feel, no one else, just exites him more than anything. He's infuriating. The endless taunting is so frustrating, yet somehow it still manages to brighten that fire inside of you. You desire it, his hands endlessly roaming with no intention of taking you any further for a good while.

Volume - how loud are they? What sounds do they make?

He's fairly quiet in terms of noise, but he loves to talk. Taunting, teasing, praising, remarking about how good you feel, hell, he'll tell a story or to to your absolutely fucked out body after multiple rounds, all while he's still moving into you relentlessly. He does make the occasional noises, rough and fairly hushed; hell groan out his words or give a grunt here and there. He just can't possibly keep completely muted with the way you feel around him, like he's wrapped up in heaven itself. Sometimes, he muffles the noise by shoving his face to whatever skin he can reach from that angle or kissing you till you're even more out of breath, if that was possible.

Wild card - a random headcannon

He has a thing for his size. Naturally, most(all) of his partners are smaller than him, even if they're tall for whatever species they are from. If he's relieving oral from you, he likes to just see the size of him against your face. The difference gets him going, how easily he can manhandle you even if you're strong. It makes him feel strong, powerful—which he loves. It's never at the expense of you feeling useless, but the way you're so small next to him is just a huge turn-on.

X-ray - whats going on underneath them clothes?

He's big for his size, and as a man of around 7 feet or taller, that's absolutely huge. He's around the girth of an average human fist, just a bit skinnier when flacid. The length of it is definitely enough to struggle with, but you make it work together. It's got a couple of veins along the side and underside, a colour just a bit darker than his usual skintone, and it turns a more reddish colour when hard, the more desprate, the more colour. It's pretty, which is weird to say of an old, weathered conqourers uncut dick, but it's true. The dusting of nest grey hair compliments him well—he's definitely an eyeful, and his naked body in all its glory is something to blink at. The source of attraction, though? It's definitely the junk he's packing. You just physically cannot stop yourself from sneaking a peek whenever you can.

Yearning - how high is their sex drive?

All day, every day. If he has the chance, he'll keep you to himself multiple hours a day, if not the whole day. For him, of course, it's the blink of an eye. In his 5000 years, you are the brightest thing that's happened, and he just wants to keep quaking those memories and moments with you like there's no tomorrow—including plenty of orgasms and then some.

Zzz - how quickly do they fall asleep afterwards?

He doesn't sleep that quickly afterwards. Sex just seems to wake him up more. Eventually, when you're asleep, he'll likely end up just watching you, so peaceful in his bed after the romp you've had. He's smitten, and he'll just sit or lay there for hours, watching. He'll never get tired of it, but it does help him calm back down, have him settle in with you, and scoot your body to his so he can tangle you up in his strong arms. He listens to the sound of your breathing until, inevitably, he too falls asleep.

Thank you for the request, anon!! It took me a while to get to it, sorry for that. I'm still getting back into writing but if anyone has more requests, please let me know! See my pinned post for the guidelines to my writing.

Please support your writers! Reblogs and comments are much appreciated.

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ronearoundblindly · 2 days ago

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Pampered

Steve Rogers x shapeshifter!Alpine!Reader (platonic Bucky Barnes x reader)

Summary: A stranger comes by while Bucky is stuck on a mission longer than expected. Your friend's friend is...uh...really hot.

part of Companion Animal (see previous or series)

Warning for shameless enjoyment of cat behavior designed to mess with Steve, probably puns (many, many puns), thirsty thots, and fluff. Steve's just a sorta-clueless good guy. So...no warnings. WC 992

The sound of the key wakes you from a nap in the sunny sliver on the bed.

Normally, Bucky says he’s home when he returns, but all that follows the door clicking shut is “what’s this mess?”

No more words after, only the crinkling of plastic, foil, and cardboard as whoever came in cleans up your mess. Bucky has been gone for almost three days, and since you can’t figure out how to make yourself change back, you chewed through various packaged foods and snacks. You’re fine because this little form needs very little sustenance, but the intruder…doesn’t agree.

“Rascal” rumbles deeply down the hall.

You jump down as quietly as you can and peek toward the kitchen.

Enormous, broad shoulders are visible over the island countertop, and a perky, round bum angles to and fro as he gathers the last bits of trash.

The man straightens after shoving it all into the bin. He’s…he’s…he’s really handsome.

“Hey, kitty—I mean, Alpine, right? Hi, Alpine,” his soft, unfamiliar voice calls down the length of the apartment, “I’m Steve.”

Who the hell is ‘Steve?’

You shift so that only one of your eyes is visible to the newcomer.

“Bucky’s friend,” he adds, immediately muttering, “which she can’t understand, you idiot…” Steve begins searching the lower cabinets and finds the crap cans of cat food Bucky squirreled away after you refused to eat them.

“You’re either very hungry—or perhaps not hungry at all based on the stuff you ruined.”

This ’Steve’ is not a cat person. The big, blond man, bigger than even Bucky, fills your bowl and walks it over to you.

With each step forward, you bend lower in suspicion, but he doesn’t really notice before unceremoniously placing it in the doorway and continuing to the bathroom.

You’re not eating that, so you follow until he turns, looks confused, and shuts you out.

Gross. Unacceptable. You miss having thumbs.

If he’s going to bother at all, he’s damn well going to use those meaty arms to open you a can of the human stuff—the real food Bucky learned to feed you on day one.

You slap your bowl until it upends, trot into the kitchenette, and hop on the counter beneath the correct cabinet.

“Alpine,” you hear Steve shout from the bathroom, “what was that?”

Despite his annoyed grunt once he finishes and sees the spill, you paw repeatedly at the cabinet, crying in urgency because it seems to be the only thing he’ll respond to: pathetic guilt. You also come face-to-face with not just a handsome man, but possibly the hottest man you’ve ever seen, and lose time staring into his sky blue eyes.

“No,” Steve says, knocking you out of your daze. “Get down.”

You growl when he shoos you off.

After a half-minute standoff, Steve caves, sighing in defeat.

“Buck always said he’d spoil a girl rotten…”

Well, you, sir, are cute, distant, and awkward. So there.

He starts to leave the kitchen, so you plant yourself in front of him.

“Babygirl,” Steve snaps, making you preen slightly at his tone, “I gotta get your bowl, or you get nothing, okay?”

Oh, yeah. I guess he does, you think with an indignant chirp, sitting by your bone-dry water bowl while he shuffles around, griping about wiping up the floor yet again.

You lick at the food only as long as it takes him to refill the water, and then you run over to the first potted plant, screeching. He’s making his way to the front door without noticing.

He hisses at himself. “Good call. I almost forgot.”

No one knows you can pull the tap to drink out of it like a fountain, but you have no way of transferring some water to the plants. Watching them wither has been the most motivation so far to attempt transforming back to a human, a problem you no longer have to worry about now that Steve is here.

“Buck got delayed,” he explains, “probably just another day or so. He’s mentioned figuring out a doggy-door situation for you, but apparently that’s a non-starter for the building. I guess…Guess you’re stuck with me coming by on occasion.” Steve rambles as he moves from pot to pot.

You stay at his heel, craning your neck to watch him gently tip the watering can repeatedly, a few veins pulsing along his thick forearm as he does so.

When he’s done, you sit in the middle of the hall, watching him gather his stuff and slide on his shoes.

“Eat, babygirl,” Steve encourages as he leaves.

You simply stare and shift on your paws expectantly.

He frowns. “Buck is coming home. I promise. He’ll be back soon.”

But Steve doesn’t continue to shut the door. His hand is just frozen there while he eyes you.

Then he gives in, comes inside again, and bends down to pat your head. It’s the first time he’s touched you.

“You’re okay, sweetheart. It’s gonna be okay.” Steve squats down, a sad smile stretched over his face. “What do you want, huh? You want company? You been alone too long?”

Yes.

You press into his hand and slowly blink.

“Alright, alright—“ he stalks over to the couch and sits, relaxing finally “—I’ll stay a while.”

Steve waits for you to settle beside him, curling against his firm thigh before he rubs down your back in a steady rhythm. You’re sure to purr loudly and respond to his continued chatting with merps and meeps. You can tell he's stressed like Bucky was when you first met, but as the minutes become an hour or more, the tension melts away. Steve seems to forget about everything else until his phone rings.

When he’s almost closed the door, Steve peeks one of his eyes around to see you standing patiently.

“Be a good girl for me and eat, okay? I’ll see you soon.”

Yes, Steve, I will.

[Next Part: 'Babygirl']

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@hisredheadedgoddess28 @supraveng @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay @astheskycries @veryprairieberry @bitchy-bi-trash @yenzys-lucky-charm @irishhappiness @fallenxjas

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #shapeshifter!reader #alpine the cat #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #shapeshifter #companion animal series #alpine!reader

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acidakerizo-47 · 1 day ago

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I guess I'm back!! (cry my hater, cry harder and louder but I don't even care and I'll never leave the IZ fandom ;] )

I was searching for a long time for any IZ fanarts where Zim and Dib are older and taller than it is in canon in their show style drawing, but everywhere almost all artists changing Dib too much or leaving Zim small as a cat, so I decided to make my own design version of them and hope I made it successfully

why does they look like that in my vision?

EXPLAINING: Firstly — we all remember that in canon Dib is a clone of Professor Membrane, SO, it will be logically that grown up Dib will be look like his dad physically, starting from his body and finishing with his face and even "cowlick" on his head. I'm not agree with Jhonen Vasquez's version of adult Dib in DWLD episode from the show bc it looks not similar to his dad — he has a small shoulders and "weakly" body structure, his cowlick bends for a several times with years of his life (his grandmother has only twice curved "cowlick" hairstyle that Professor Membrane inherited from her) and clothing style doesn't feeling like that gothic dark boi we used to see... Maybe I could to change Dib's shirt? it sounds nice, but his shirt is his style trick that even Jhonen didn't removed! Also Dib leads a physically active life: he is often outdoors, has parkour skills and he's able to withstand quite heavy physical exertion during paranormal research and fighting with Zim that saying us the fact that Dib a strong buddy with excellent physical fitness.

Secondly — standard Jhonen Vasquez's drawing style for IZ show included small shoulders for every character (for irkens only Tallests and "fat" characters has shoulders bigger than standard). Why Zim can't be tallest and why he has body structure is more miniature than Dib's? Look: all irken invaders and soldiers from the elite has a standard miniature body structure and almost all of them is not so tall bc they can't somehow, even if they could have a excellent physical fitness. Zim — is the smallest irken that has a nutritional problems (as we saw in show episodes irkens eating a very heavy and fatty foods, while Zim gets sick of almost every food and eats mostly snacks that talking a lot about his development). Still he can grow up but it will happen slowly (I think at the same level as in humans) and with height restrictions. Also I'm thinking that Zim had to adapt to human food over the years (remember when he was getting sick from cheese and burning from meat in the show, and when he was drunk from eating a lot of cheese and didn't reacted on the meat hamon strike on his face in the movie Eneter the Florpus). As a Bonus Zim never will be the Tallest just because he has extremely bad and criminal reputation, and was also publicly expelled from the empire and was made an object of ridicule.

I was thinking about it for a long time and I've got an Idea to make this reference and maybe use it for further arts, we needed to have this sort of content, I guess :>

if you want — you can use this reference with my design version for your arts, I'm absolutely don't mind about it! It would be very nice if you could mention me as the designs author, but it is not necessary.

I love you and wish you have a good day, sweetie (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

#artists on tumblr #kerizoart #my art #fanart #iz fanart #iz #invader zim #art tag #zim #dib #dib membrane #concept art #ref sheet #reference #headcanon #zim is a femboi it's forever in my heart #I won't stop shipping ZADR sorry not sorry #tell me how much you hate me~

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16wolke11 · 14 hours ago

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NO MERCY - Oscar Piastri

A/N: It's just pure smut.

WORDS: 3176

WARNINGS: overstimulation/oral/fingering/both of the before->all f receiving/unprotected sex, light choking

_____

Being in a relationship with an F1 driver isn't always easy, especially not if you are working a full-time job at the same time. Limited time for home office doesn't make it possible for me to accompany Oscar for every race of the season, making us a long-distance couple from time to time. During the last triple header, I couldn't come with Oscar. The hectic work schedule and some in-person meetings didn't allow me to travel around the world, so I had to stay home, while he raced his heart out. It was an exhausting time, and wouldn't I know that we will have to manage this again, I would say never being parted from Oscar again for so long. But today he will finally be back home. Knowing that he is usually exhausted after stressful weeks like this, I just prepared some light snacks and freshened the bedroom up for a long-needed cuddle session.

When the door of our apartment opens, I don't walk into the hallway, giving Oscar a second to come in, take his shoes off and come over to me when he wants to. His steps are slow and when I can sense his presence in the kitchen, I turn to him with a smile. Just when I want to say hello, Oscar speaks up first.

"I fucking hate triple headers." Oscar groans, letting his backpack hit the floor without glancing at it again. Normally, he would pack it away directly, but it looks like he doesn't want to have anything to do with it again soon. I open my arms for Oscar, who gladly leans into the hug, just whispering a "Hello," before listing some things he didn't like about him being away for so long.

"Couldn't kiss you." He mutters, head pulling away from my shoulder to press his lips against mine. I melt into his touch, hands wandering to his chest, finally having him close to me again. Oscar peppers some kisses on my lips, my cheeks and makes me laugh softly because of him showering me with kisses.

"Couldn't touch you." Oscar then says, hands wandering over my sides, grabbing my waist carefully to pull me close against his chest, nose nuzzling against my neck and I voluntarily lull it to the side.

"Couldn't make you feel good." He then whispers, before sucking the thin skin under my ear into his mouth. I gasp at the sudden change of the tired and cuddly Oscar, but I am not going to complain. My fingers curl into his shirt while Oscar keeps placing love bites on my neck, down to my collarbone, before licking soothingly over the burning skin.

"Osc..." I whimper when his hands wander to my butt, pulling my close against his middle, making me feel the hardening bulge. Looks like Oscar has different plans for the night than I thought he would have. My fingers sneak under his shirt when Oscar lifts his head from my neck to look me in the eyes.

"Bedroom?" I ask him, tilting my head slightly to the side. The bedroom would be much more comfortable for a reunion, but Oscar just smirks at me before slowly shaking his head.

"Nope, we stay right here." He tells me, gives me one last kiss on the lips, before he turns me around on the hips, making my back hit his chest. Now he is standing behind me, kissing my shoulder, lips hovering over my skin, teeth scraping over it, sending shivers down my spine. I want to touch him too, move my hand over his body, but like this, I can barely reach him where I want to. So, I settle for one hand in his hair, holding his lips close to my skin and the other on one of his arms, which he has wrapped around my waist.

"Part those legs for me." Oscar asks me to, and my hazy mind needs a second to understand, before I slowly widen my stance. His fingers quickly open the bow on my jogging pants, not bothering to shove them down, before pushing his hand inside.

"So good." Oscar whispers, lips brushing over my ear. "So obedient." He praises me and I just whimper, feeling my body shudder with pleasure before he really touches me. His fingers let the hem of my panties snap against my skin, before he pushes them under. Not waiting longer to bring his fingers between my folds, sighing at the contact of the wet skin.

I lean against him, closing my eyes while I concentrate on his touch. His fingers gathering up my slick, lubricating me evenly, his arm wrapped around my waist to hold me steady against his body, his breath ghosting over the skin of my neck, which still tingles from his nips and bites and of course his length pressing against my backside, making my inside ache for him.

Oscar's moves are slow, like we have all the time and no need to rush. Letting two of his fingers glide forth and back between my folds, avoiding my clit with every movement, making me whine in frustration. "Shh." Oscar hushes me softly, before he finally grants me the first contact. The tips of his fingers resting against the little bundle of nerve endings for a moment, like he wants to test out my patience, before he finally brushes them over it. Almost makes my knees buckle with this first contact, but he holds me steady and upright.

I lean my head against his shoulder, now both of my hands holding onto his arm, which is wrapped around me. Oscar keeps moving his two fingers, lets them brush over my clit and then dips just the tips into my entrance, making me whimper for more of his touch. I try to tilt my pelvis, trying to get his fingers slip deeper, but Oscar just pulls them back, concentrates on my clit for a moment, before continuing his little play.

Finally, he shoves his two fingers inside and a gasp slips over my lips. It is a difference if I finger myself or if Oscar does it and after three weeks of no physical contact with him, I do need a moment to get used to the soft stretch. Oscar is patient, just moving his good, lubricated fingers agonisingly slow to let me get used to it.

"Osc, close." I moan when he gets them to slip in fully and this familiar knot in my abdomen gets tighter. "Just let go, my love." Oscar's lips ghost over my neck again and I just let my body fully relax into his touch. Hips now being allowed to meet the gentle thrusts of his fingers while his palm is brushing over my clit over and over again. My fingers dig into his arm, and I try to bite down on my lip to stop the next moan, but it just spills over. And then another and another, before the orgasm washes over me. Oscar's fingers keep moving, until I try to squirm out of his touch, then he pulls them out of me again.

He helps me turn around again, eyes scanning my face, before giving me a soft kiss. I sigh against his lips, glad he is keeping me close to him because I never trust my legs a hundred percent after an orgasm.

"Let's get rid of some clothing." Oscar mumbles, fingers tugging at the hem of my shirt, before pulling it over my head. I do the same with his, finally being able to touch his skin again. The rough race weekends drained his body and now he will need to do his best to recover as much as possible in just one free weekend. My bra hits the ground and just when I want to open the button on Oscar's trousers, he moves my body again.

"Lean back." He instructs me and I do, not realising where he wants me to lean back, until I do. My breath hitched in my throat when my back hit the steel front of the fridge. Goosebumps spread over my skin, and a pinch of arousal washes over me. Oscar grins at me before he drops onto his knees right in front of me.

Finger hooking into my jogging and panties, pulling them down together. Carefully, Oscar helps me to step out of them, one foot after the other. He offers me a soft smirk, but I know exactly that he is up to no good. Fingers wandering up the back of my thighs, slightly kneading the flesh, until he parts my legs again slightly.

Oscar doesn't hesitate to bury his head between my thighs. Tongue wasting no time to draw a first bold lap through my folds, making me moan. I hold on to his hair, not knowing where else to search for contact while my back keeps me steady against the fridge. He holds me in place with his hands, keeping me exactly where he wants me to be, while his tongue follows a pattern only he knows. Drawing shapes through my folds, dip inside me and lets the tip roll around my clit. Just to do it all over again with a different rhythm, different shapes and a different pressure.

Having him between my legs feels like heaven, but is so far from innocent. It must sting his skin by how hard I am pulling on his hair while the moans and whimpers constantly roll over my tongue. Still being sensitive from the first orgasm, it doesn't take long for a second to build up. I want to warn Oscar, tell him that I am close again, but then I just stumble over the edge, orgasming just around his tongue when he dips it into me.

It takes me longer to recover from that high, feeling hazy in mind, while Oscar comes back to his feet pretty quickly. He shakes out his legs while his hands hold onto me, like he is not trusting me to keep myself steady. My eyes wander over his body, spotting how ruined his hair is, but also that he is still wearing his boxers. His length being visible in the light grey material, his tip leaking behind it with precum, creating a dark spot on it.

"That was number two." Oscar announces when I blink a couple of times and look him in the eyes again. I squint my eyes at him, trying to figure out what he wants to tell me with that information.

"What are you up to?"

"Giving you at least one orgasm for every week away." Oscar shrugs his shoulders, before a mischievous grin spreads on his lips. "And maybe one more just for fun."

"Three is more than enough Oscar." I sigh, not having the strength to slap his chest playfully. If I knew what he was up to, I would have taken a nap before he arrived. My abdomen feels tight and even though I know I can take several orgasms in one night, Oscar's pace is so dangerous for my body.

"We will see." Oscar just hums, eyes darting around the room, before he seems to set for the next location. He walks over to over kitchen island, making some space on it, before he pats with his hand on the counter.

"Take a seat." He instructs me, holds out his hand for me to take and I let him lead me over to the counter. Together with Oscar's hands on my hips, I hop onto the counter, letting him step in between my legs.

"Kiss." I demand, because this was all I wanted when he entered the apartment. A long, loving kiss. Oscar doesn't deny me that wish and tilts my chin upwards to make our lips meet. He tastes like himself, but also like me, sending a shiver down my spine. I let my hands wander between us, fingers already hooking under the waistband of his boxers to finally take the last piece of clothing off him, but then he takes a step back.

"Oscar!" I warn him, knowing exactly that he is still determined to fulfil his resolution to get me to orgasm between three and four times.

"Shhh." Oscar just hushes me, presses a last lingering kiss onto my lips, before he drops onto his knees again. He places my legs over his shoulders, making me shuffle a bit closer to the edge of the counter to make it easier for him. Oscar looks up to me, trying to find a reassuring look in my eyes and because I can't resist him anyway, I just roll my eyes and place my hand on the back of his head as permission to start.

He smirks for a second before giving in to the pressure of my hand, head back between my thighs. Before I can even get used to his tongue, his fingers join in. Two pressing inside of me, making a mixture of whimper and moan tumble over my lips. Oscar synchronises his movements. Tongue lapping my clit in the rhythm of his thrust, my fingers clenching around his hair with every new wave of pleasure ripping through my body.

His name is rolling off my tongue over and over again. One hand buried in his hair, the other curled around the counter. Oscar twists and turns his fingers quickly, finding that perfect spot inside of me, making me choke on my breath. I clench down hard on his fingers, making him groan against my clit, only sending another shockwave of pleasure over my body. Shaking slightly, I try to pull Oscar's head away from me, not knowing if I can handle to mixture of his fingers and tongue for much longer. But as an F1 driver, his neck is trained not to move an inch if he doesn't want to and so he stays seated between my thighs.

My muscles spasm and a third orgasm ripples through my body. The clenching around his fingers doesn't seem to stop and my clit just twitches at the thought of being touched again. I can hear Oscar taking a deep breath, like he takes a moment to come down himself, before he carefully takes my legs off his shoulders and stands up. His fingertips brush over my cheek before he leans his forehead against mine. I close my eyes, take some deep breaths, hoping for a break or maybe even an end, but I know that Oscar is determined to reach his goal. Well, and he hasn't come yet.

"Fuck, you are dripping down your thighs." Oscar groans out and I open my eyes just to look down between my legs. He is right, I am wet all over, some smeared on my thighs, but I have no intention to move and clean myself up right now.

"Would a shame not to add my cum to that." Oscar then adds, making me whimper and I don't know if it is pleasure or pain.

Trying to tell him that I can't take any more pleasure, but no sound comes over my lips. Oscar simply manhandles me, lets my feet hit the ground, doesn't let them buckle under my weight, before he turns me around, letting my back lean against his chest for a moment. He presses my upper body down on the kitchen counter, kicking his feet against mine to widen my stance while I try to catch my breath. The top of the counter feels cold against my damp skin, my legs feel like jelly and my thighs feel sticky while the after waves of the orgasms still go through my body.

Oscar shuffles behind me and I know that he has finally dropped his boxers. I can hear him groan lowly and I am sure he isn't going to last long. The question is, am I going to be able to take it? A second later, Oscar aligns himself with my entrance, shoving his length inside while I already clench around him, before he even starts thrusting. A moan leaves his lips, fingers digging into my hips and it probably needs all of his strength to not just bottom me out over and over again.

He takes his time with me, hips pulling back slowly, before thrusting forwards again. Oscar moves so slowly that I can feel everything on his length. How the tip slips inside, the head of his cock pushing me open, before letting my clench around the thinner part after the head and then bottoming me out to the base of his shaft. I don't even have the strength to moan anymore, just whimper with those torturous movements, toes curling, fingers holding onto the counter while Oscar continues his slow and deep thrust.

The lust feels like gasoline burning through my veins. Making it feel like my body is drenched in flames, while shivers run down my spine over and over again. I barely feel one of Oscar's hands leaving my hips. His fingertips brush over my back, drawing patterns into the damp skin until Oscar has to lean slightly forward to let his hand reach my neck. The angle of his thrust is different now and out of instinct, I tilt my pelvis to let him slide exactly where my body needs him to touch me.

Oscar's fingers caress the side of my neck until suddenly he wraps his hand around it. I gasp and he stays still, until he can feel me clench down harder on him. Slowly, he pulls me up by my throat, movements of his hips have stopped completely. I hold onto the counter when I am pressed against his chest and his fingers dig testing into my neck, holding the control over my airflow, before softening his grip again.

He picks up his rhythm again, but this time goes quicker with every snap of his hips. Mine bumping against the counter with every hard entering of his cock. Oscar's hand wrapped around my neck like a necklace, clasping and unclasping it to his liking. I don't manage to scream or just whimper his name when the orgasm comes crashing down on me this time. Just going limp in his arms, letting him use me for his pleasure.

Oscar lets me lay my chest back down on the counter, holding onto my hips with both hands again. He thrust into me deeply, drawing soft mewls over my lips because he even prolonged the orgasm that's palpable in every inch of my body. Luckily, it doesn't take long before he spills deep inside me with a low moan. Slowly moving his hips further to ride out his orgasm, before he pulls out.

I can feel his cum mixing with my arousal, joining it to drip down my thighs while we both try to come back to reality. Oscar showed no mercy with me today and even though my body might regret it in the next days, I would let him have me over and over again.

#f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 smut #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x reader

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readernimsblog · 1 day ago

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Pt1 Pt3

Football player Simon Riley x WAG reader

Warning: MDNI 🔞

After practice Simon liked driving to your apartment in his blacked out SUV, parking right next to your car in the parking lot and rushing to your apartment like he’s late.

You’re still in bed clad in a tshirt and a thong, snacking on some mixed nuts and wine while watching some random show on your bedroom tv.

The moment you heard the front door opened to your decent sized apartment, you listened to his heavy footsteps coming closer to your bedroom door. The heaviness of his weight getting louder with every step.

“Hi lovie.” He sighs, dropping his duffle at the entrance of your bedroom door.

“Hi Si.” Your smile widened instantly. “How was practice?”

He sighs again. Shedding his clothes down to his boxers. Climbing into your bed and laying next you. His head on your stomach and big arms wrapping around you as he takes your presence in, from your smell to the softness of your skin as he kneads your body like a cat.

“Was good. I missed you though.” He mumbles against your skin.

Chuckling, you ran your hands through his short hair. He prefers his hair buzzed or short. His long haired days were reserved for his younger self.

“I missed you too Si.”

“Imma have to kidnap you, keep you in my mansion.” He mumbled again.

Tempting….

“You say that so causally.” You laughed. Poking his cheek. Heart melting when he smiles with those perfect set of teeth.

“Mhm, I’m being serious though. You live so far and all I want is to have you under me at all time.”

Call it obsession. Call it madness. The man wanted you by his side always. The feeling is worst when he remembers that you’re a total baddie. He feels that anyone can steal you and he wants to around you like a shadow.

“You’re clingy.” You point out.

He shrugged, big hands finding their way under your tshirt, groping the soft skin.

“And what about it?” He asked, easing his head to meet your gaze.

You could already tell what time he is on. You know that look from a mile away.

You didn’t know how or when you got in this position. It all happened so fast. Your thick thighs are pushed up and folding you in half, his tongue deep in your slicked heat. Nipping and sucking on your clit from time to time but most of it is his nose brushing against the sensitive bud when he ate you out like a starved man.

“Gonna make you cum until you agree to move in with me.” He mumbles, slipping his thick fingers in with ease.

“Mhm, fuck.” You moaned, Taking your eyes away from his intense gaze. He made you nervous. Always did and he knows it. You’re shy.

“Eyes on me baby.” He lightly demands. Your eyes snap to his immediately. Almost like he had you trained.

“Simon.” You grabbed his wrist when he curls deeper, his thumb applying pressure on your bud.

Circles…squelch…heavy breathing…the tightness building in your stomach. You try to focus on not going crazy.

“Yes?” He smirks. Adjusting himself to pay some attention to your breasts. Tongue licking your dusty brown nipples before sucking on them. Popping off with a spring of saliva connecting the hardened nipple.

“Fuck—Si, I’m about to cum.” You heaved as your thighs closed in on his hand.

He stops. You glare. He smirks.

“Move in with me?” He asks.

You have been talking about this. You deny it every time. Realistically, you’ve only been with each other for a short period of time. Not even a year yet. But, you had no doubt that you’d be together for a long time. He’s your person. So why not?

Smirking, you replied. “I need more convincing..”

Three positions and five orgasms in, you agreed.

A/N

How do you feel about this?

#simon ghost riley #ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x black reader #footballer Simon Riley #ghost cod #simon riley #simon ghost riley x you

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holyblonded · 3 days ago

Note

There’s nothing i love more than estrella being a little softie for her mami, because what do you mean this loud, chaotic, free spirited teen, who tries to hide behind her “persona” infront of fans, has the biggest heart and love for the people to close to her. she’s just a kid who needs reassurance and quiet yet steady love.

could we have some more hcs of her being cute towards ale and olga, with either actions or just little things she does knowing it will make one of them smile or maybe just make their day a little bit better, the side of her a lot of people don’t maybe see or “expect”?? please :)))

— estrella is the type to leave little sticky notes around the house for ale and olga, with messages like “you’re the coolest” or “thanks for being my mami even when i’m annoying” and she always draws a terrible little doodle with them, like a lopsided flower or a stick figure with crazy hair

— she’s very tactile with them, even when she’s pretending not to be, casually walking past olga just to hook her pinky around hers for a second, or pressing her forehead to ale’s arm when she’s reading on the couch, no words exchanged but the affection clear

— if either of them have had a bad day, estrella somehow always knows, even if they don’t say anything, and she’ll wordlessly grab their hand and pull them to the kitchen where she’s already started making tea or hot chocolate the way they like it

— whenever olga gets home late from work trips estrella has a whole routine where she turns the living room into a fort with blankets and pillows, all casual like “oh this? yeah just wanted to watch a movie” but it’s always olga’s favorite movie and there’s always her favorite snacks

— for ale, estrella will put effort into “working out” when she knows ale’s stressed, just to make her laugh, doing one (1) pushup dramatically, collapsing, and going “i’m fit now. you’re welcome.” and she acts like it’s a joke but she knows making ale laugh like that makes her relax a little

— she’s obsessed with celebrating tiny milestones for them, like if olga posts a photo and it hits a new number of likes estrella will randomly bake a cake and write “influencer queen” on it in wonky frosting

— if ale has a match, estrella always sneaks a good luck note into her bag somewhere, and if olga has a big modeling job or interview, estrella will slip a tiny drawing of a superhero with olga’s hair into her purse with “you’re the best, duh” scribbled underneath

— estrella isn’t really someone outsiders would expect to be so soft like this, because she’s got that reputation for being loud and stubborn and even kind of a little bit of a menace on the field, but at home with ale and olga, she’s all warmth and thoughtfulness in the quietest, most intentional ways

— every once in a while, when no one asks and no one expects it, she just looks at them, hugs them so tight it lifts them off the ground a little, and says “thank you for in my life” like it’s the most obvious, most important thing in the world

#answered asks 💌#woso community #⋆｡˚ stargirl: asks

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archivegyu · 8 hours ago

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masterlist

sandcastles and sunshine (k.mg)

The summer sun beat down on Gyeongpo Beach, its golden rays dancing across the sparkling water. A five-year-old girl sat alone in the dappled shade of the trees lining the edge of the beach, her small hands meticulously shaping wet sand into what would soon be her masterpiece. Unlike the other kindergarteners running wildly along the shoreline, shrieking with delight as waves chased their tiny feet, she preferred the quiet satisfaction of creation.

Her dark hair was pulled back into two neat pigtails, secured with purple butterfly clips that matched her swimsuit. A light coating of sunscreen protected her nose and cheeks, applied carefully by her mother who sat several meters away on a beach towel, engrossed in conversation with other parents. Not far away, her seven-year-old brother Wonwoo lounged with a picture book, occasionally glancing up to check on his little sister.

"Almost perfect," she murmured to herself, carefully placing a small shell at the top of her castle's tallest tower. She had been working on this sandcastle for nearly an hour, adding intricate details that children her age rarely had the patience for. A moat with a small channel leading to the sea. Windows carved with a plastic spoon. Even a drawbridge made of driftwood she had discovered earlier that morning during her careful exploration of the beach.

She wasn't like most of the other children in her kindergarten class. While they finger-painted with wild abandon and sang loudly during music time, she preferred analyzing picture books and solving puzzles. Her teacher often remarked to her parents that she had "an old soul" — serious, thoughtful, and particular. Today at the beach was no exception; while chaos and excitement reigned around her, she found her joy in solitude and precision.

That is, until a shadow fell across her castle.

"Wow! That's amazing!"

She looked up to see a boy about her age standing over her creation. He was tall for a five-year-old, with bright eyes that seemed to take in everything at once. His swimsuit was bright blue with yellow fish printed all over it, and he was clutching a plastic bucket in one hand.

This was Kim Mingyu. She recognized him from her kindergarten class, though they had never really spoken. Mingyu was everything she was not: loud, perpetually in motion, and surrounded by friends. He was the boy who always volunteered to feed the class hamster, who shared his snacks with everyone, and who inevitably knocked something over at least once a day.

"Thanks," she replied quietly, returning to her work. She hoped the boy would take the hint and leave her to her castle.

Mingyu did not take the hint. Instead, he plopped down in the sand beside her, his long limbs sprawling. "I tried making a castle earlier but the waves kept washing it away. How did you make yours so big?"

She sighed softly. "You have to build it far enough from the water," she explained, not looking up. "And the sand needs to be wet but not too wet."

"Can I help?" Mingyu asked eagerly, already reaching for one of her spare shells.

Before she could answer, Mingyu leaned forward to place the shell on her castle. As he did, his elbow caught on his bucket, sending it tumbling directly onto the castle's main tower. In his haste to catch it, Mingyu lost his balance completely, his gangly body crashing straight through her careful creation.

Time seemed to stop. Where once stood an impressive sandcastle now lay a flattened mound, with Mingyu sprawled across it.

She stared in horror. All her careful work, destroyed in seconds. Her hands began to tremble slightly as she processed what had happened.

Mingyu scrambled to his feet, eyes wide with dismay. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to—I was just trying to—" He looked genuinely devastated, his lower lip quivering slightly.

Tears welled in her eyes, but she held them back. She didn't like crying in front of others. Instead, she stared at the ruined castle, her face a mask of quiet disappointment.

Across the beach, Wonwoo had witnessed the entire incident. In an instant, he was on his feet, marching toward them with purpose, his book forgotten on his towel. Wonwoo took his big brother duties very seriously, especially when it came to protecting his introverted sister.

"Hey!" Wonwoo called out, his voice stern as he approached. "What happened here?"

Mingyu looked up at the older boy with genuine alarm. Wonwoo might only be seven, but to a five-year-old, he seemed impossibly tall and intimidating, especially with his serious expression and the colorful band-aid across his nose that somehow made him look tougher.

"I—I knocked over her castle," Mingyu admitted, hanging his head. "It was an accident."

Wonwoo frowned, looking between the flattened sand pile and his sister's crestfallen face. "She worked really hard on that," he said, crossing his arms.

"I know," Mingyu replied, his voice small. Then, with surprising resolution for such a young child, he straightened his shoulders and turned to her. "I'm really, really sorry. I'll help you build it again! I'll make it even better!"

She remained silent, staring at the ruins of her creation. A logical part of her brain knew it was just sand, that eventually the tide would have claimed it anyway. But another part, the part that took pride in her careful work, felt utterly deflated.

Wonwoo's frown deepened. "I don't think—"

"Please," Mingyu interrupted, looking earnestly at her. "I promise I'll be careful. I can get more shells and—and I know where there are some really cool rocks with holes in them! They could be windows or—or cannons!"

Despite herself, she felt a flicker of interest. She had seen those rocks earlier but hadn't been able to reach them.

Wonwoo noticed the slight change in his sister's expression. "Do you want him to help?"

After a long moment, she gave a small nod. "Okay. But you have to follow my instructions," she added firmly to Mingyu.

Mingyu's face broke into a dazzling smile, his entire being seeming to light up with relief and excitement. "I will! I promise! I'll follow all your instructions!"

Wonwoo wasn't entirely convinced. "I'm watching you," he warned Mingyu, pointing two fingers at his eyes and then at the boy. "If you make my sister upset again..."

"I won't!" Mingyu promised earnestly. "Cross my heart!" He made an exaggerated X motion over his chest, almost losing his balance again in the process.

With a final skeptical look, Wonwoo retreated a short distance away, close enough to intervene if needed but far enough to give the children some space.

She surveyed the flattened sand with a critical eye. "We'll need to start over completely," she announced, her practical nature already asserting itself over her disappointment.

"I can get fresh wet sand!" Mingyu offered eagerly, grabbing his bucket. He darted toward the water's edge, his enthusiasm evident in every bouncing step. As he ran, he tripped over his own feet, face-planting briefly in the sand before popping up as if nothing had happened, continuing his mission without missing a beat.

She watched him go with mild trepidation. Mingyu's eagerness to help was admirable, but his execution left something to be desired. Still, she began clearing away the remains of her ruined castle, making space for a new beginning.

Mingyu returned moments later, water sloshing from his overfilled bucket. "I got the wettest sand!" he announced proudly, tripping slightly as he approached.

Her eyes widened in alarm as the bucket tilted precariously. "Careful!" she warned.

To her surprise, Mingyu recovered his balance with unexpected grace. He set the bucket down gently beside her. "I almost spilled it," he acknowledged with a sheepish grin. "But I didn't! See? I'm being super careful now." He demonstrated his seriousness by sitting down very slowly and deliberately next to her, his tongue poking out between his teeth in concentration.

She nodded approvingly. "We need to make a good base first," she instructed, beginning to spread the wet sand into a large circle. "It has to be really strong to hold everything else."

Mingyu watched her work with admiration. "You know a lot about sandcastles," he observed.

"My brother taught me," she replied, glancing over at Wonwoo, who was pretending to read his book while clearly keeping an eye on them. "He says you have to have a good foundation for anything important."

"That's smart," Mingyu nodded seriously, as if absorbing a profound philosophical concept. Then, with characteristic Mingyu enthusiasm, he added, "I'm going to get those special rocks now! Don't build too much without me!"

Before she could respond, he was off again, sprinting down the beach toward a collection of tide pools in the distance. As he ran, his arms windmilled wildly, and he let out a gleeful "Woohoo!" that turned several heads.

She shook her head slightly, but there was the faintest hint of amusement in her expression now.

𓆉⋆｡˚⋆❀ 🐚🫧𓇼 ˖°

From their spot under a large beach umbrella about thirty meters away, two sets of parents watched the scene unfold with interest.

"Isn't that Mingyu?" asked a woman in a floral sun hat, nudging her husband.

The man squinted against the sunlight. "Yes, that's him. Oh dear, looks like he knocked over someone's sandcastle." He winced slightly. "That boy and his limbs... he's all knees and elbows these days."

"Who's the little girl?" asked the woman, adjusting her sunglasses. "She seems quite serious for her age."

"That's my daughter," the woman nearby replied "And my son Wonwoo just went over to check on them. He's very protective."

The adults watched as Wonwoo appeared to mediate the situation before retreating to a watchful distance.

"Your daughter doesn't seem too upset now," observed Mingyu's mother. "That's a relief. Mingyu means well, but sometimes his enthusiasm gets the better of him."

"She usually plays alone," her mother replied with a slight smile. "She finds most children too... unpredictable."

"And Mingyu is nothing if not unpredictable," laughed his father. "Look at him go!" They all watched as Mingyu sprinted down the beach, fell, bounced back up, and continued running.

"Should we intervene?" asked the girl's father, half rising from his beach chair.

His wife placed a gentle hand on his arm. "Let's give them a chance. Look, Wonwoo is keeping an eye on them, and she actually seems... interested."

The four adults shared knowing glances.

"First day at the beach together and they're already building sandcastles," Mingyu's mother mused with a smile. "Who knows? Could be the start of a beautiful friendship."

They settled back to watch their children from afar, occasionally exchanging amused comments as Mingyu's antics continued and the little girl began to emerge from her shell.

𓆉⋆｡˚⋆❀ 🐚🫧𓇼 ˖°

As she worked on the castle's foundation, she found herself constantly glancing up to track Mingyu's progress along the beach. He moved with boundless energy, occasionally stopping to examine something interesting before remembering his mission and dashing off again. There was something fascinating about his uninhibited enthusiasm that contrasted sharply with her own measured approach to life.

Mingyu returned triumphantly with his t-shirt transformed into a makeshift pouch, filled with an assortment of small, holey rocks, unusually shaped shells, and even a piece of smooth sea glass. "Look what I found!" he exclaimed, carefully emptying his treasures onto the sand beside her.

She examined his collection with genuine interest. Some of the items were truly unique, perfect for decorating their castle. "These are good," she admitted, selecting a particularly interesting spiral shell.

Mingyu beamed at the compliment. "I picked the best ones just for your castle!"

"Our castle," she corrected quietly, surprising herself. She wasn't usually one for collaborative projects, preferring to work alone where she could control every detail. But something about Mingyu's earnest desire to make amends touched her.

If possible, Mingyu's smile grew even wider. "Our castle," he repeated reverently. "It's going to be the best castle on the whole beach!"

For the next several minutes, the unlikely pair worked side by side. She directed the overall design, explaining to Mingyu the importance of packing the sand just right and creating supports for the taller structures. Mingyu, for his part, followed her instructions with unusual concentration for a child typically so easily distracted. When not carrying out her precise directions, he added his own creative touches – a small collection of pebbles arranged to look like people in the castle courtyard, a moat decorated with colorful shells.

"That's the king," he explained, pointing to a particularly round stone. "And that one with the pink shell is the princess. She's really smart, like you."

She felt her cheeks warm slightly at the comparison. "Princesses in real castles probably weren't very smart," she countered logically. "They didn't get to go to school like we do."

Mingyu considered this with surprising seriousness. "Then she's not a regular princess," he decided. "She's a science princess who invents things and reads lots of books."

Despite herself, she smiled. "A science princess is better," she agreed.

A butterfly fluttered past, and Mingyu gasped in delight. "Look!" he whispered loudly, pointing at the delicate creature. "It's coming to visit our castle!"

The butterfly, a vibrant blue, danced on the air currents before landing briefly on one of their castle towers. Both children held their breath, watching in wonder. After a moment, it fluttered away.

"The castle is so good even butterflies want to live there," Mingyu declared with absolute conviction, his eyes wide with wonder.

She couldn't help but giggle at his enthusiasm. "Butterflies don't live in castles," she corrected gently.

"This one wanted to," Mingyu insisted. "It was just checking if its room was ready."

From his watchful position several meters away, Wonwoo observed the developing friendship with growing interest. He had been prepared to step in at the first sign that this clumsy boy was upsetting his sister again. Instead, he was witnessing something rare – his sister actually enjoying another child's company. Wonwoo knew better than anyone how selective his sister was about her companions. Most children found her too serious, too particular, while she found them too loud and chaotic.

Yet somehow, this enthusiastic, accident-prone boy had broken through her careful reserve. Wonwoo found himself relaxing his guard slightly, though he continued to keep a watchful eye.

As their castle grew more elaborate, so did the imaginary stories Mingyu began spinning about it. The science princess was now joined by a knight who was very strong but sometimes tripped over his sword (Wonwoo strongly suspected this character was based on Mingyu himself). There were dragons that weren't scary but instead helped the castle inhabitants by flying them to different places and keeping the castle warm in winter with their gentle fire breath.

She, usually not one for imaginative play, found herself contributing to the narrative. "The princess would need a laboratory," she pointed out, carefully crafting a small subsidiary structure with her plastic spoon. "For her experiments."

"And a library!" Mingyu added enthusiastically. "With ALL the books in the world!"

"That would be too heavy for a sand castle," she replied practically, but then added, "Maybe just the most important books."

"Like dinosaur books!" Mingyu suggested, bouncing slightly in place.

"And space books," she nodded. "And books about animals."

"And books about robots that can turn into cars!" Mingyu added, making transforming noises and gestures that nearly knocked over a small tower. He froze mid-motion, eyes wide with alarm, but the tower remained intact. Both children let out relieved sighs.

At one point, Mingyu decided that their moat needed water and ran to the sea with his bucket. On his return journey, sloshing water from the overfilled container with each step, he spotted a small crab scuttling across his path. His delighted shriek was so loud that several nearby beachgoers turned to look. He dropped to his knees, water splashing everywhere, to watch the creature's sideways dash.

"Come look!" he called excitedly to her. "There's a tiny crab! He could be the castle guard!"

Curious despite herself, she walked over to see. The crab was indeed tiny, its shell barely larger than a coin. It waved its miniature pincers defensively as the two children observed it.

"He's so brave," Mingyu whispered in awe. "He's not scared of us even though we're giants to him."

"He's scared," she corrected matter-of-factly. "That's why his claws are up. We should leave him alone."

"Oh." Mingyu looked disappointed but nodded in understanding. "Bye, Mr. Crab," he said solemnly. "Sorry we scared you. Your castle is that way." He pointed helpfully in the direction the crab had been heading.

She found herself fighting back another smile at this earnest farewell to a creature that couldn't possibly understand him. There was something oddly endearing about Mingyu's willingness to speak to anything and everything with the same friendly openness.

When they returned to their castle, Mingyu remembered his original mission and carefully poured water into the moat they had constructed around the perimeter. His brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to keep his usually uncooperative hands steady.

"Slow down," she instructed, seeing that he was about to overflow one section. "You need to give the sand time to absorb the water."

Mingyu immediately slowed his pouring to an exaggerated trickle, his tongue caught between his teeth in concentration. "Like this?" he asked without looking up, his entire being focused on the task.

"Yes," she confirmed, impressed by his ability to follow precise instructions when properly motivated. "That's perfect."

The praise made Mingyu beam so brightly it was almost as if he'd lit up from within. His smile was infectious, causing a matching one to spread across her own usually serious face.

At one point, disaster nearly struck again when a beach ball bounced dangerously close to their creation. Mingyu, showing surprising reflexes, lunged to intercept it before it could damage the castle. He tumbled into the sand, well clear of their masterpiece, clutching the offensive ball triumphantly.

"Nice save!" called a voice from down the beach. A group of older children approached, the apparent owners of the runaway ball.

Mingyu returned the ball with a friendly smile. "You have to be careful," he explained earnestly. "We built a castle and it's really special."

The older children might have laughed at being lectured by a kindergartener, but something in Mingyu's sincere delivery made them take notice. They came closer to examine the increasingly impressive structure.

"Whoa," one of them said, genuinely impressed. "That's actually really cool."

"My friend designed it," Mingyu announced proudly, pointing to her, who immediately shrank back from the attention. "She's super smart and knows all about how to make the sand stay together."

She blinked in surprise. Not only had Mingyu called her his friend (a presumption she might normally have corrected), but he was giving her credit for their creation, despite his own significant contributions.

The older children nodded appreciatively at the castle. "Nice work, kid," one of them said to her. "That's way better than the ones we used to make."

As the group moved on, Mingyu flopped down beside her, sending a small spray of sand into the air. He brushed his unruly hair out of his eyes, leaving a streak of wet sand across his forehead that he didn't seem to notice.

"Are you hungry?" he asked suddenly. "I'm starving. Building castles makes me super hungry."

As if on cue, his stomach growled loudly enough for her to hear. She giggled at the perfect timing.

"I have snacks," she offered, surprising herself with the willingness to share. "My mom packed too many."

"Really?" Mingyu's eyes widened hopefully. "I love snacks! All kinds!"

She stood up and made her way back to her family's spot, where her mother had laid out a colorful beach blanket under a large umbrella. "Can I have some snacks?" she asked. "For me and... my friend."

Her mother raised an eyebrow at the word "friend" but smiled warmly. "Of course, sweetheart." She opened a cooler bag and pulled out two juice boxes and a container of cut fruit. "Here you go. Why don't you invite your friend to sit in the shade for a while? You've been in the sun for quite a long time."

She nodded and carefully carried the snacks back to their castle, where Mingyu was adding a small collection of tiny shells to the entrance. He looked up when she approached, his face lighting up at the sight of the snacks.

"Wow! Thank you!" he exclaimed, accepting the juice box she held out to him. He struggled momentarily with the straw before finally managing to punch it through the foil hole, nearly squirting juice up his nose in the process. "Mmmmm," he hummed happily after taking a long drink.

She sat down carefully next to him, opening the container of watermelon, strawberries, and grapes. "We can share," she said, placing it between them.

Mingyu reached for a piece of watermelon, then paused, his hand hovering over the container. "My hands are sandy," he realized, looking down at his gritty palms.

"Mine too," she replied, showing him her own sand-covered hands.

They looked at each other for a moment before Mingyu burst into giggles. "We're too dirty for your mom's nice fruit!"

She found herself giggling along with him. "We need to wash our hands first."

"Race you to the water!" Mingyu declared, already scrambling to his feet.

"Wait!" she called, but he was already running toward the shoreline, arms flailing wildly as he went. With a small sigh and a shake of her head that belied the smile tugging at her lips, she followed at a more dignified pace.

At the water's edge, Mingyu splashed enthusiastically, sending droplets flying in all directions as he attempted to clean his hands. She approached more cautiously, dipping her hands into the cool water and rubbing them together carefully to remove all traces of sand.

"Look out for waves!" Mingyu warned, just as a slightly larger swell approached. The water surged around their ankles, and Mingyu lost his balance, sitting down hard in the shallow surf with a splash and a shocked expression that quickly turned to delight. "Come on in!" he called, now deliberately splashing water in her direction. "It feels amazing!"

She hesitated, naturally cautious and not dressed for swimming. But the cool water did look inviting after their time in the hot sun, and Mingyu's joy was somehow contagious. Carefully, she sat down at the water's edge, allowing the gentle waves to wash over her legs.

"Isn't it the best?" Mingyu asked, flopping onto his back so that the next small wave washed over his entire body except his face. He sat up sputtering and grinning. "The ocean gives the best hugs!"

"The ocean can't hug," she corrected automatically, but she had to admit the cool water felt wonderful against her sun-warmed skin.

"Sure it can!" Mingyu insisted. "It's hugging us right now!" He made an exaggerated hugging motion with his arms just as another wave rolled in, knocking him sideways.

She couldn't hold back her laughter at his antics. It seemed that everything Mingyu did was slightly exaggerated, slightly too big for his body to properly control, and yet there was something genuinely charming about his lack of self-consciousness.

After cooling off in the water, they returned to their castle to find Wonwoo standing guard beside it, arms crossed as he warned away a curious toddler who had wandered too close.

"Thanks for protecting it," she said to her brother, genuinely grateful.

Wonwoo nodded seriously. "No problem. It's a really good castle. Worth protecting."

Mingyu beamed at this praise from the older boy. "We made it together! She's the boss and I'm the helper and we make a great team!"

Wonwoo's mouth twitched in what might have been the beginning of a smile. "Looks like it," he agreed. He glanced at his watch. "Mom says we'll be leaving in about an hour, just so you know."

She nodded, accepting this information with her usual practicality. Beside her, Mingyu's face fell slightly at the reminder that their day at the beach – and their castle-building adventure – would eventually come to an end.

"We should finish the decorations," she suggested, noticing his sudden drop in enthusiasm. "So it's completely perfect before we have to go."

Mingyu immediately brightened. "Yes! And we need a flag! Every amazing castle needs a flag."

"We don't have a flag," she pointed out practically.

"I can make one!" Mingyu announced. He rummaged through their pile of collected items before looking around more widely. His face lit up as he spotted something in the distance. "Be right back!"

Before she could question him, he was off again, racing across the sand toward a small refreshment stand at the edge of the beach. She watched with curiosity as he appeared to be speaking animatedly with the vendor, his entire body involved in whatever he was explaining as his arms waved enthusiastically. A few moments later, he returned triumphantly, clutching a wooden popsicle stick and what appeared to be a napkin.

"See?" he proclaimed proudly. "The nice lady gave me these for free when I told her about our amazing castle!"

With careful concentration that belied his typically energetic movements, Mingyu folded the napkin into a rough triangle and secured it to the popsicle stick. He then gently pushed the makeshift flag into the highest tower of their castle.

"Perfect!" he declared, stepping back to admire the effect. "Now everyone will know this is the kingdom of Princess..." he paused, turning to her with a questioning look. "What's your name for the princess?"

She considered this for a moment. "The Science Princess," she decided firmly.

"Right! The kingdom of the Science Princess and Knight Mingyu!" he declared, puffing out his chest proudly.

"Of Helping and Adventures," she added, remembering his earlier title.

Mingyu looked at her with such joy and surprise that she couldn't help but smile back. The fact that she had remembered and valued his contribution seemed to mean the world to him.

"And protector Wonwoo," she added, glancing at her brother who was pretending not to listen from his position nearby.

Wonwoo rolled his eyes but couldn't quite hide his pleased expression.

As the afternoon wore on, Mingyu and she continued to add details to their castle and elaborate on the stories of its inhabitants. They worked with a synchronicity that belied their contrasting personalities – her methodical precision complementing Mingyu's creative enthusiasm. When Mingyu's attention occasionally wandered, she gently redirected him to the task at hand. When she became too focused on perfecting one small detail, Mingyu's spontaneity would move them forward to the next exciting addition.

"My mom says I have too much energy," Mingyu confided as they worked on the castle's outer wall. "My teacher says the same thing. She makes me sit on a special cushion that's supposed to help me wiggle less, but it doesn't really work." He demonstrated by wiggling his entire body, nearly knocking over a small turret in the process.

She considered this as she carefully smoothed a rampart. "My mom says I think too much," she replied. "And my teacher wants me to play more at recess instead of reading."

Mingyu beamed at her. "We could play together at recess! I could show you the best games, and you could tell me about your books!"

The offer was made with such genuine enthusiasm that she couldn't bring herself to point out that they had been in the same class all year without interacting. Instead, she nodded slightly. "Maybe," she allowed.

"We could build a castle in the sandbox!" Mingyu continued excitedly. "Not as good as this one, but still super cool! And we could get others to help, like Seungcheol and Jeonghan and Joshua!"

As if summoned by the mention of their names, three boys from their kindergarten class approached – Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and Joshua, three friends who were always together. They stopped several feet away, clearly admiring the castle but hesitant to come closer.

"Wow, Mingyu, did you build that?" Seungcheol asked, his eyes wide with admiration.

Mingyu sat up straighter, sand clinging to his knees and elbows. "Me and her built it together," he corrected, gesturing toward her. "She's really good at designing things."

The three boys looked at her with newfound respect. She was known in their class as the quiet girl who always finished her work first and rarely joined in group activities.

"Can we look at it closer?" Joshua asked politely.

Mingyu looked to her, deferring to her decision – another gesture that surprised her. Usually, other children simply did what they wanted without considering her wishes.

After a moment's consideration, she nodded. "You can look, but don't touch," she instructed firmly. "Some parts are still drying."

The boys approached carefully, circling the impressive structure with obvious admiration. "What's this part?" Jeonghan asked, pointing to a small depression in the central courtyard.

"That's the science garden," Mingyu explained importantly. "It's where the Science Princess grows special plants for her experiments. And over there," he pointed to another section, "is where Knight Mingyu trains the dragons to be gentle and helpful."

"There are dragons?" Seungcheol's eyes widened with excitement.

"Friendly ones," she clarified, surprising herself by joining the imaginative conversation. "They help protect the castle."

"That's so cool," Joshua breathed, clearly impressed.

What followed was an impromptu storytelling session, with Mingyu enthusiastically describing the castle's various inhabitants and their adventures, occasionally looking to her for confirmation or additional details. To everyone's surprise, including her own, she began to contribute more and more to the narrative, explaining how the science princess had developed special sand that couldn't be washed away by the tide and windows made of sea glass that could capture sunlight to power the castle.

The three boys listened with rapt attention, occasionally offering suggestions that Mingyu enthusiastically incorporated while she evaluated their logical consistency. Wonwoo, watching from his position nearby, couldn't quite believe what he was seeing – his introverted sister actively participating in imaginative play with a group of children.

In the distance, the parents continued their observation.

"Would you look at that," murmured the girl's mother in amazement. "She's actually playing with a group of children. Voluntarily."

"And Mingyu hasn't knocked anything over in at least twenty minutes," added his father with equal wonder. "That might be a new record."

"They seem to balance each other out," observed the girl's father thoughtfully. "He brings energy, she brings focus."

"Like little yin and yang," Mingyu's mother smiled. "It's adorable."

The parents watched as the children excitedly talked about their creation, gesturing and pointing to different parts of the elaborate sand structure.

"We should probably think about heading home soon," said the girl's mother, checking her watch. "It's getting late, and she'll need a bath to wash off all that sand."

"Same for Mingyu," agreed his mother. "Though I suspect he'll put up quite a fight. He seems to be having the time of his life."

The girl's father nodded. "Let's give them a few more minutes. It's not every day you see your child make a new friend."

Eventually, the three visitors were called away by their parents, leaving Mingyu and her once again alone with their creation. The sun was beginning to lower in the sky, casting longer shadows across the beach.

"My mom will probably say we have to go home soon," Mingyu said with a note of sadness, looking at their castle. "It's too bad we can't take it with us."

She nodded, feeling a similar sense of regret. In her logical mind, she had always known the castle was temporary – subject to the tide, the weather, other beachgoers. But after investing so much time and creativity into it, the inevitable loss felt more significant.

"We could take a picture," she suggested practically. "My brother has a camera on his phone."

Mingyu's face lit up. "That's a great idea! Then we'll always remember Castle Science-Dragon!"

"Is that what we're calling it?" she asked with a small smile.

"Unless you have a better name," Mingyu offered generously.

She thought for a moment. "Castle Science-Dragon works," she decided, appreciating the way it incorporated both their contributions.

At that moment, Wonwoo approached, having sensed the changing mood. "Mom says we need to start packing up soon," he informed his sister. He glanced at the castle, genuine admiration in his expression. "That turned out really impressive."

"Can you take a picture of it?" she asked, surprising her brother with the request. "Before we have to leave?"

Wonwoo smiled slightly. "Sure." He pulled out his phone and began framing the shot.

"Wait!" Mingyu exclaimed. "We should be in the picture too! With our castle!"

Wonwoo looked to his sister, expecting her to decline. She rarely wanted to be in photographs, generally preferring to observe from behind the camera rather than be captured in the moment.

To his surprise, she gave a small nod. "Okay," she agreed quietly.

Mingyu's face lit up with delight. "We should sit right behind it! Like we're the castle guards!"

She considered this for a moment before offering an alternative. "Maybe we could sit on either side? So people can still see the whole castle."

"That's even better!" Mingyu agreed enthusiastically. "You're so smart!"

She felt her cheeks warm at the compliment as they positioned themselves on opposite sides of their creation. Mingyu settled on the left, crossing his legs and placing his hands on his knees in an attempt to stay perfectly still—a nearly impossible feat for him. She knelt carefully on the right, smoothing her purple swimsuit and sitting with her natural poise.

"Say 'Castle Science-Dragon'!" Wonwoo instructed, holding up his phone.

"CASTLE SCIENCE-DRAGON!" Mingyu shouted with such enthusiasm that several nearby beachgoers turned to look. Meanwhile, she offered a small but genuine smile—the kind that rarely appeared in photographs.

Wonwoo took several pictures, making sure to capture the castle from different angles. "These look good," he said, showing them the results.

In the photos, their creation stood proudly between them—an impressive structure of towers, walls, and carefully placed decorations. But what struck Wonwoo most was the expression on his sister's face. She looked... happy. Relaxed in a way he rarely saw her around other children.

"Can I get a copy?" Mingyu asked eagerly. "I want to show my mom and dad!"

"I'm sure our parents can share it," she replied practically.

"Cool!" Mingyu beamed at her, sand still streaked across his forehead and cheeks. "This is the best day at the beach!"

From across the beach, both sets of parents began making their way toward the children, carrying beach bags and folded towels.

"Looks like it's time to go," Wonwoo observed, tucking his phone into his pocket.

Mingyu's smile faltered as he looked at their castle. "I wish we could stay with it forever."

She understood the feeling completely, but her practical nature prevailed. "The tide will come in anyway," she pointed out gently. "All sandcastles get washed away eventually."

Rather than being upset by this fact, Mingyu seemed to consider it thoughtfully. "Then we made the best castle it could be for today," he decided with surprising wisdom. "And now it gets to go on an ocean adventure!"

She hadn't thought of it that way. The idea of their creation being carried out to sea, becoming part of something larger rather than simply being destroyed, was strangely comforting. "Maybe the sand will reach another beach someday," she mused.

"And other kids might use it for their castles!" Mingyu added excitedly. "Our castle could become part of castles all over the world!"

She smiled at the thought as their parents arrived, exchanging knowing glances at the elaborate castle and the two children sitting proudly beside it.

"Time to pack up, sweetheart," her mother said gently. "Did you have fun today?"

She looked at the castle, then at Mingyu's sand-covered, beaming face. "Yes," she answered simply but sincerely.

"Mom! Dad! Look what we built!" Mingyu jumped to his feet, nearly tripping in his excitement as he grabbed his father's hand to pull him closer to the castle. "It's called Castle Science-Dragon and it has a princess who does experiments and friendly dragons and knights and a moat and everything!"

Mingyu's parents expressed appropriate amazement at the creation, asking questions that Mingyu answered with his characteristic enthusiasm while she occasionally corrected his more fantastical claims with quiet factual amendments.

As the adults looked on, Mingyu's mother turned to the girl's parents with a warm smile. "We should get together again soon. The children seem to get along well, and it's been nice chatting with you both today."

"Absolutely," her father agreed, glancing down at his daughter with pleased surprise. "We're just a few blocks away from each other. Maybe dinner this weekend?"

"Perfect," Mingyu's father nodded. "We can exchange information before we leave."

She listened to this adult conversation with careful attention, noting how the afternoon had produced not just her unexpected friendship with Mingyu, but connections between their parents as well. There was something satisfying about this symmetry.

As they began gathering their belongings, Mingyu suddenly stopped and looked at her with wide eyes. "Wait! I just realized we're going to be in the same class again after summer! We can sit together and build stuff during free time!"

"Maybe," she replied, which was as close to enthusiasm as she typically showed. Coming from her, it was practically a promise.

"I'll save you a spot at my table," he declared with absolute certainty. "It's by the window, so we can look outside when we're thinking up ideas."

She nodded, secretly pleased at the thought. She'd always wanted the window seat but had been too shy to claim it at the beginning of the year.

Before they parted ways, Mingyu took one last look at their castle. "Goodbye, Castle Science-Dragon! Have fun on your ocean adventure!"

Then, to her surprise, he gave her a quick wave that turned into an exaggerated bow. "Thank you for building with me today! You're the best castle architect ever!"

She felt her lips curve into a small smile. "You were a good helper," she acknowledged, which made his face light up as if she'd given him the highest praise imaginable.

"Ready to go?" her father asked gently, offering his hand.

She nodded, taking her father's hand while glancing back one last time at Castle Science-Dragon. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows from its towers across the sand, and the little napkin flag fluttered in the breeze.

As they walked to the car, Wonwoo bumped his shoulder lightly against hers. "So... Mingyu seems nice," he said casually.

"He's very loud," she replied. Then, after a thoughtful pause, she added, "But he's also very kind."

"And he listens to you," Wonwoo noted with slight surprise. "Most kids don't."

"He does," she agreed, this observation striking her as important somehow.

In the background, she could hear the adults exchanging phone numbers and making plans, their voices carrying the warm tones of new friendship. Her mother laughed at something Mingyu's father said, a genuine laugh she usually reserved for close friends.

As they drove home, the beach receding in the distance, she found herself thinking about the sand castle, about Mingyu, and about the unexpected connections formed during a single afternoon at the beach. Practical as always, she reached into her small beach bag and pulled out her notebook, carefully opening it to a fresh page.

"What are you writing?" Wonwoo asked, leaning over to see.

"Ideas," she replied simply, "for the next castle."

Her mother and father exchanged glances in the front seat, smiling at each other over their daughter's bent head. Like the little sandcastle on the beach, something new had been built today—something that might, with care and attention, last much longer than a summer afternoon.

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elysianstarfall · 1 day ago

Text

under the weather (phantom busters)

summary: you're not feeling too good... what does your boyfriend do about it?

characters: shishikuno mogari, korekishi eugene, kanzaki kaoru, tamon kotaro

a/n: unfortunately self-indulgent bc i am going through it rn bro 💔 for these hcs in my mind you guys are at his house or something idk

s. mogari

immediately worries that it's his fault

"you swear you're not mad at me? say on god."

once you rule that out he's wondering whose fault it is

cause like

why the fuck does his beautiful gf look so sad

who could have possibly done this??

if it's because of a person, he's planning the most elaborate scheme to ruin their life

if it's not, he calms down and tries to see if he can help

gives you one of those super tight hugs and doesn't let go until you're literally gasping for air

even after he does let go he still keeps his hands somewhere on you

physical touch final boss i tell you

holds your face in his hands or just holds your hands or just has his arm around your shoulder he dgaf as long as he's touching you somewhere

anyways it looks like he's not listening to you when you talk

like, at all

i swear he is

you can ask him something like "what did i just say" and he'll repeat it word for word

somehow

he's not one to think of solutions though, he'll just hear you out

basically just holds you and listens to everything you say

he's never been so quiet in his life

k. eugene

the bf ever

lets you get it all out, lets you cry on his shoulder or into his chest or do whatever you need to do

and then brainstorms things to do to make it better

he's so nice about it

asks if it's something you think would work or if you want a different solution

really wants to help you, but if you tell him to stop he will

like he'll drop it right away

gets you your favorite snacks and whatnot

delays doing his homework and stuff to comfort you because

his girl is sad what could be more important than that

if you're spiraling or you're seriously getting depressed he just distracts you

he's so smooth with it too!!

like a casual topic switch to what you had for breakfast or your favorite food or your favorite color or why your favorite color is your favorite color or...

what were you sad about again?

as i said he lets you do whatever you need

he has tissues ready obviously but if you feel like sobbing into his shirt, go for it

he's not gonna stop you

he'll just stroke your hair or trace things on your back until you feel better

and you do

k. kaoru

stares at you

huh????

yeah

you're like two seconds away from sobbing your eyes out and he's just staring

he's actually so sorry

he's had to comfort his sister a couple times but that doesn't mean he's good at it

his brain starts working again though dw

not a physical touch guy but he'll reach for your hand

and if you want a hug his arms are open

the type to listen quietly and only respond when you ask him stuff

ok that sounds kinda bad but he just wants to let you get everything off your chest

and he's very much paying attention

but if you ask him for help he has zero solutions to your problem

again he's so sorry

really wishes he could help you more but his coping mechanism was literally reading manga while crying in his room

puts on an anime or a movie to distract you

but if he can tell it's not working he'll turn it off and just cuddle with you

yeah he's "not a physical touch guy" but if it makes you feel better he'd do anything

you end up just falling asleep and when you wake up he's staring again

but this time he's smiling a bit

t. kotaro

while he's trying to cheer you up, he just gets sad for you

like how is he supposed to be happy when the love of his life is going through something???

how dare he???

^ probably his thought process

so now you're both sad

great...

listens to you really closely

makes small noises so you know he's locked in

like "mhm" or "really?"

knows exactly what to say to make you feel better

are we kidding he literally helps ghosts pass on by talking to them

it's lowkey a free therapy session

promises you it'll all be ok

doesn't matter how dire the situation is, he hates seeing you worry about it so much

if you don't feel like sharing he just puts his headphones over your ears and puts on your shared playlist for you to listen to

or!!

if you ask him to really nicely he'll sing for you

he'll only do it super quietly though, he's too shy

won't initiate too much physical contact, might hold your hand or wipe your tears

just tries his best to be there for you

#korekishi has to be nerfed why is he so perfect #phantom busters #phantom busters x reader #shishikuno mogari #mogari shishikuno #korekishi eugene #kanzaki kaoru #tamon kotaro

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crybaby-bkg · 2 days ago

Text

Kash

You're at the top. You have everything; especially the unwanted attention from lesser male coworkers who want you dead. You also have money, a lot of it, and a pathetic kind of look about you that Toji finds extremely endearing.

****

OR, suicidal reader who actually wants hitman Toji to kill her.

Warnings: suicidal reader (like explicitly states wanting to die), hitman toji, reader being referred to as woman, lady and a cash cow, dubious consent, overstimulation, fingering, pussy eating, rough sex, nipple play, Toji being an asshole who has a huge dick unfortunately. please let me know if I missed anything and please enjoy!!

Word count: 8.2k

Also available on Ao3!

Minors/blank/ageless blogs DNI!

You can’t even begin to count how many times you’ve been told throughout your life that money can’t buy happiness. You had never really listened though, never cared. If you were struggling, then of course money would make you happy—you’re not an idiot.

But you hadn’t realized just how lonely having money made you feel inside. Earning more than you needed, everything was taken care of; you had a too big apartment you didn’t need, the space empty besides you and a stray you picked up when loneliness got the better of you; a nice car that didn’t break down often, the second biggest office in the whole building. You were at the top.

Too bad you didn’t give a shit after a while. And even worse that your coworkers did.

After yet another promotion somehow, it became their tipping point. Young guys, three or four of them, you’re not sure. Never really cared for their names, their faces all blending together the longer you were forced to look at them in meetings. But they knew you, and boy, if they didn’t want to do everything in their power to knock you down a peg or two. Even if it meant snuffing you out for good; anything to clear your spot and give it to someone more deserving, they would say. A man, they really meant.

You notice him, for what you believe, is the first time he’s ever followed you. A big, burly man, simultaneously blending into the crowd on a constant basis, but too obvious for you to not notice him. He pretends to lower his head and look at his phone when you crook your neck to watch him, despite the way his thumb scrolls too quickly for the device to even be active.

Is it money? These men; they’re always after money. It wouldn’t surprise you if the man straight up snatched your thousand dollar bag from right underneath your arm. But he doesn’t. Just continues to follow you, at a far enough distance away that anyone not too keen on their surroundings wouldn’t notice. But you do. You always do when it comes to men, when it comes to being the only female lead in your industry to make as much as you do.

The man follows you home, and you can’t find it in yourself to care too much. If he wanted to rob you, he could’ve done it a few blocks back. If he wanted to kill you, he could’ve done it when you purposely took a turn down a dark alleyway. But the man hadn’t followed you down there, hadn’t made his presence that obvious. But he somehow met you around the corner, his clothes dark, his hair black, eyes shrouded by his stringy fringe.

If he killed you, you’re not sure you’d be entirely upset. The only thing you’d regret is not having your money to go to anyone besides your cat, although she deserves a spoiled life, according to her high-end tastes. But if this man—this huge, intimidating looking man with his scarred lip and the weight he carries in his waistband, silver and warmed to his body—were to end your life, you’re not sure you’d be angry at him.

Probably wouldn’t even plead for your life. Why plead when things are this exhausting anyway? When your coworkers spit in the coffee they offer to make you every morning? When you have no one to come home to besides a yowling little feline? When you eat dinner alone, lunch alone, breakfast, even a small fucking snack alone. You have no one, and practically feel like no one, just as much.

Who would really miss you, anyway?

You don’t amp up your security in those following weeks. You probably should if you wanted to continue on with this life you’ve worked so hard for, felt so dull about now. But you don’t. Make a routine that allows the man to follow you, giving him ample opportunity to sneak up on you in between your stop for a morning donut and the library to drop off the book you finished for the week. You pick up a new one when he doesn’t follow you in, waiting for the inevitable dark head of hair to trail you along the halls, the carpeted floor quieting his heavy steps.

And when he does follow you in, do you finally pick up a book you’ve read thrice now, and leave. He follows, and you expect nothing more. This routine goes for entirely too long, honestly. You’re not sure if he’s just a shitty stalker and doesn’t know that you notice him, wants you to acknowledge him, or is just trying to spook you. Either way, you’re finding yourself tired of it all when you have to complete the work you didn’t think you would have to because you had presumed you’d be dead by now.

It’s only when his stalking has gone on for a good six weeks, when you finally muster up the courage to address him.

“When are you gonna kill me, huh?” You ask the man, spinning around on your heel, watching him try to duck nonchalantly into an alleyway. But you follow him around the dark corner, sure you’re probably as safe in this dank alley with him as you are having lunch with your coworkers. The man looks surprised, at the least, to see you addressing him. You two make for an odd sight; shrouded in darkness from the gloomy overhead clouds, thick and heavy with rain, sputtering every few minutes to ruin the Gucci shirt you’ll probably die in today. You’re all prissy and put together, head held high, chin up, a cup of your favorite coffee in hand, probably the last time you’ll ever drink it.

And the man—the man is more handsome than you gave him credit for. You could never really make out much of his face, but you see him now, barely, with the overhead light of the streetlamp above you. His skin is pale, and he looks a bit older; his hair jet black and cut short; his eyes a dull green that almost fade into a black nothingness; a scar cutting through pink lips; his build almost twice the size of your own. He’s the picturesque of the perfect hitman. The thought almost makes you smile.

When the man doesn’t say anything, has the gall to raise his eyebrows and look around himself as if in question of who you could be talking to, you snap.

“I’ve been waiting for too long now.” You frown, tucking your purse under your arm tighter, in hopes that the contents don’t spill and make too much of a mess when he splatters your brains on the concrete. “Get it over with already, and feed my cat in the meantime. She’s a picky little shit, so make sure you get the high end food. She won’t eat anything else.”

Your voice is so sure, no quake or quiver, no begging or pleading, no fear for this strange man that has been, undoubtedly, following you for so long that you’re surprised he hasn’t taken action against you yet. Toji can only chuckle under his breath, astonished by the woman in front of him, thin eyebrows raised so high they damn near touch his hairline. He folds thick arms over his chest, sizing you up and down, how there’s not even a tremble in your knees as he stares down at you.

“Goddamn.” He states plainly, chuckling again at your pinched expression when he doesn’t pull out his gun immediately. “No negotiations?” He cocks his head in question to you, expecting some kind of back and forth before he ends your life. But you’re only tight lipped, lips covered in your prettiest berry shade, worn once more before your inevitable death. You fold your arms, matching his stance, and the man has the nerve to look amused at your huffing.

“I hear you’re a lot more loaded than those shitheads at your job that hired me in the first place.” Toji mutters, lifting his chin to you, a smirk ever growing on his soft looking lips, makes your stomach flutter just the tiniest amount at the sight. Goddamnit. Too bad you’ll die without having had sex in literal years. “Maybe we can come to some sort of agreement, huh?”

“No thanks.” You say flippantly, quick as ever, taking a long sip from your drink, before you toss it into a nearby dumpster. You check your watch in the meantime, noting that your cat will need to be fed in around an hour or so, the greedy little thing. Toji only blinks at your nonchalant demeanor, stunned to silence. “I can give you my banking information and then you can kill me afterwards. Just remember to feed my cat, or donate her to the shelter, or something. I don’t know.”

Quiet falls between the two of you, the only sound the beginning pitter patter of rain starting to fall. It bounces off of the concrete, seeps into the expensive suede of your shoes, shoes that you don’t really give a shit about, especially if they’re going to be covered in your blood in only a few moments. Toji blinks at you. You blink back, casting him an expectant look. This is the deal of a lifetime: to get paid to kill someone who, not only isn’t putting up any kind of fuss, but is also offering you all of their money in exchange for you to kill them too. You’re basically funding your very own hitman, and the fucker has the nerve to look genuinely stunned.

“In what way would that benefit you?” Toji asks after a long bout of silence, his head cocked to the side as he blinks away raindrops from long, black lashes. “Me taking your money and your life?”

“What’s the point of living anymore? It is what it is.” You shrug, folding your arms over your chest as you let your purse hang from your elbow. He could just snatch it from you and then blow your brains out with that gun you know is against his hip. Or he could strangle you, if he was one of those crazy kind of killers. But Toji just looks at you like you’re the oddest little thing in the world.

Well, shit. In all the years that Toji has been a hitman for hire, he’s never really felt bad about taking someone’s life. They’re usually a piece of shit in some way, or they’re just another bounty that he doesn’t really give a fuck about. He’s used to the pleading, the begging—not this, not you.

It almost…excites him, revs him up in a way that he hasn’t felt in god knows how many years. He stares at you for a long while, thinking, contemplating, before he smiles. Its evil, devious in its unfurling that finally makes you really evaluate the man in a way that you hadn’t done so beforehand. You have the nerve to take a single step back that Toji follows, smile stretching into a grin as he reaches a hand out to you.

“How about this? I keep you alive—”

“Again, no thanks.” You snap at him this time, pushing away his hand almost childishly. Oh, he’s going to enjoy having you around for a long, long while. Toji reaches out again and grabs you this time in too big, hot hands, holds you by your elbows as he pulls you into him until you’re stumbling. You finally look scared, more than you have the entire time he was stalking you, more than he even thought was possible for your constantly apathetic expression. He feels his cock hardening, heavy as it twitches to life against his thigh.

“I keep you alive,” he repeats, pulling you closer until you’re pressed against him, eyes suddenly wide as you stare up at him. “And make life worth living. In return, you come with me.”

You rear back at his words, fear melting into a look of confusion before it bleeds to one of irritation. You try to snatch away from him, but the man only holds you tighter, looking at you from under his lashes in a way that makes your stomach twist. You ball your fists up and attempt to hit him in his chest, but he only holds your wrists captive, tight to his body as he watches every minuscule twitch on your face.

“The whole point was that I wanted to die, asshole.” You snarl at him, returning to that usual, familiar bite he got a glimpse of earlier. Toji only smiles at you, condescending and small.

He can see that, your suicidal ideation, need, but Toji doesn’t say it out loud. He can see the exhaustion that runs so much deeper than missing a few nights of rest. He sees it in the bags under your eyes that you barely try to hide with makeup anymore. He sees it in the set around your mouth, the firmness of someone determined to do something permanent, drastic. He sees it in the way your shoulders shag, defeated, how you uncurl and open yourself up to him, ready to have the weight of living taken off of your shoulders.

Too bad Toji has always been a selfish man. He can do this one act of kindness in his life, can’t he? Save someone from themself? Breathe life into one, instead of snuffing it out like how he’s done for so many years?

He tells himself he’s doing the right thing. He doesn’t much believe it, but you look at him with so much hopelessness and apathy, and your pockets are just so heavy, and you’re such a pretty, pathetic little thing and—

And he never said he was that much of a good guy, now did he?

“You don’t want to die.” Toji tells you, speaking over you when you begin to protest. “You just don’t want to be you anymore. Let me take that burden off your chest so you can be whoever you want to be, sweetheart.”

The fight in you dies down as the prospect of what he’s offering you sinks in. It’s not completely untrue, what he’s said, how you’ve been feeling for a while now. Everything has lost its luster in life, become something meaningless and dull; the promotions, the money, the luxury items, the high status. You’re so tired of being needed, of being threatened, of being envied and hated and being—you.

Toji watches the fight bleed from you, bit by bit, as his words settle deep inside you. He watches the gears turn in your head, how you go over every moment of your life for the past few years, how its all accumulated to you ready to give up everything and find a bullet through your skull if you no longer had to feel like this anymore. Your gaze travels far away from him before finding his eyes once more, a new kind of look gracing your tired features that he doesn’t think he’s seen before.

“How are we going to do this?” You ask Toji, shoulders relaxing, arms falling limp as he stills holds your wrists in his grip. He pulls you to his chest, a small smile gracing his face, pulling taut at the scar on his lip. You’re so entranced by how handsome the man looks in the muddy lighting, how his eyes are a lot lighter than you expected, that you can’t prepare yourself for when he knocks his forehead against your own. You’re out cold before you can even hit the ground.

…

Toji works quickly and efficiently. He pulls out a pocketknife and cuts a long stripe up his palm, grunting a bit under his breath at the sting. He squeezes his hand closed next to your head on the wet ground, spreads and splatters it in a way that he hopes the idiots will fall for. He turns you over until you’re on your stomach, rearranges your limbs to look like you fell from the force of the bullet through your head.

“You’re gonna hate me for this, sweetheart,” he murmurs under his breath, smearing his bloodied palm in your hair to make the look even more convincing. It helps hide the lack of a hole in your skull with the messiness, and he finishes everything off by tearing your pants a bit, tossing your shoes a few feet away as if kicked off during your supposed flight from him. He stands back and admires the picture he’s created of you, feeling an uneasiness in his gut at the sight.

To think that these men had tried to kill you, all because of—what? Because you made more than them? Because you were at a higher position? In their description, they said you needed to be knocked down a peg, shown what happens to bitches who don’t know their place. He didn’t give much of a shit at the time; money was money. But to see just how defeated you were, how much those stupid, weak pieces of shit had obviously gotten you to your breaking point, whether they were trying to or not.

Seeing you in the way they most desired made his stomach turn in a way he’s not sure he’s felt much before. If you asked him to kill them for even a slither of your worth once you woke, he’d do it for barely a fraction of that price.

After taking the necessary picture of your spread out form, Toji hauls you up before anyone can spot the two of you, although he doubts it with the pouring rain and darkened alley. He hefts you over his shoulder as if you weigh nothing, covering your head with your own blazer as he makes the short trek to your place, avoiding as many cameras as possible, chuckling out how drunk you got to those who give him a stare too long.

He finds your car in the parking lot with ease, one he’s kept track of many times during his stalking. He digs through your purse for your keys, keeping you hefted on his shoulders, humming a little under his breath as he slides you into the two-seater, settling himself behind the wheel. He doesn’t remember the last time, if ever, he’s driven something this nice. God, he's going to love keeping you more than he thought possible. He’s never going to have to work again for the rest of his life if the net worth online about you was true.

And by the way you would look at him in times of doubt, he’s sure you’re going to love being kept just as much as he’ll love keeping you. His own little cash cow, just as pretty as you could be.

…

When you wake, you’re in an unfamiliar room, stripped down to a too big shirt you’re pretty sure isn’t yours, your silk pants and suede heels long forgotten. You’re groggy, head pounding as you groan quietly, trying to sit up before the dizziness forces you back down again.

What the fuck? Where were you? What the fuck happened?

You blink a few more times, trying to bear the splitting headache behind your eyes, as you slowly work yourself into an upright position. As you look around the room, you try not to let panic set in as everything from before comes flooding back to you. You agreed to live, quintessentially run away with the man whose name you still don’t remember getting, in exchange for him getting access to all of your money. And then he…knocked you out? What the fuck for?

You can ask him why, as the man strolls through the closed doors, dressed in a tight fitting shirt and loose sweatpants, his feet bare, his hair wet as he rubs a towel through it. He pauses for a moment at the sight of you groggily blinking at him in confusion before he smiles, tiny, nodding his head in your direction.

“A few things you missed since you’ve been out,” he starts, making his way over to the spacious bed you were laid in.

“Since you knocked me out.” You spit back, hackles rising like a cornered animal. Toji only rolls his eyes at you, settling across from you on the bed as he tosses the towel to the floor, leaning back on his hand as his head rests on his shoulder.

“It didn’t kill ya, though, now did it?” He teases with a grin, chuckling a little when you grit your teeth at him.

“Anyway,” he continues on when you open your mouth to, presumably, cuss him out for the jab. “First of all, I’m Toji, and obviously, I already know who you are.” You throw him a scathing look that he ignores. “But, I had to knock you out so that your dead pictures looked more believable to those idiots. But, I can’t send in the pictures until you’ve drained your bank account, so that’s on our agenda for tomorrow. In the meantime, I helped us to a nice little cottage a couple hours away from where you stayed so that we can lay low until we get the cash and go wherever the hell we want.”

It’s…a lot, the information, an overload of everything that happened since you’ve been knocked out. How hard had he hit you? Did you ever wake up once in between these longs bouts of him doing whatever the fuck with your body and your money? Did he knock you out again and again until he was ready with his stupidly prepared fucking speech? Would you have permanent fucking damage after this, because the asshole wouldn’t stop?

That’s probably what he wanted though; you dead quicker than you would think, so he could use you up until he was bored of your presence. You’re ready to pummel him with questions—where exactly are we, how am I going to empty out my accounts without raising too much suspicion, where are we going after this, what am I going to be doing with you in the meantime—but only one thing pops out before you can stop it.

“I’m not doing anything until we get my cat.” You say simply, arms folded over your chest, the scratchy fabric of the shirt rubbing against your arms. You think its his shirt, that he placed you in it once you arrived, that he must’ve somehow ruined your gucci one from faking your death. Toji only blinks at you, stunned to silence before his eyebrows screw up in both confusion and irritation.

“Thought you didn’t give a shit about the thing?” He asks, swiping his fringe from his forehead, giving you a peek of the smooth, alabaster skin that still glistened with wet from his shower. You watch a trail trickle down his temple, curving against a sharp jaw that seemed to grind with every passing second.

“Yeah, but I can't let her starve to death.” You fire back at him, as if it was obvious. “That’s cruel, but I guess you’d understand what cruel means.” Shooting him a glare thats downright nasty, Toji matches your look, settling further on the bed as he cocks his head at you.

“Oh, I do, huh?” He asks, leaning in entirely too close, but you don’t back down. Match his stare with venom in your eyes, arms folded tight, lips pulled taut as he scans your face with a dizzying slowness that makes you swallow thickly. “Do you want me to show you how cruel I can be, sweetheart? Cause last I checked, I’ve been nothing but nice. Overtly nice, if I do say so myself.” He mutters the last part to himself, gaze casted low as it trails down your body, your naked legs.

He undressed you, while you were unconscious. Placed you in his clothes, laid you in the bed, and you’re pretty sure even washed your hair from the dampness that sticks to your scalp. Nice would be the best way to describe his actions, if he wasn’t your hitman that you basically bought off to keep from killing you. For him to act like you owe him, is fucking incredulous, makes you burst with an unrestrained laugh as delirium seems to drive your words.

“Is this what it’s going to be? Threats if I speak back to you?” You reel back in astonishment, feeling something familiar ache in your chest Memories of men looking down their noses at you every time you do something better than them, show them how much more capable you are than they expect you to be. “Wow, a man in his fucking feelings because I have a mouth thats more for sucking dick. What a fuckin’’ surprise.”

You spit the words out harshly, expecting Toji to reel away from you, to lash out, to maybe even backhand you for how you speak to him. But the man only sighs at you, as if you’re merely a child thats gotten too mouthy, cranky and petulant. He gazes at you from beneath low lids, eyes dropping from your own to your mouth, how your lipstick has faded from being brushed against his back as he hauled your unconscious body, from lying on the scratchy pillow beneath you.

“I don’t mind a smart mouth that has multiple uses.” He tells you, his words a husky mutter that makes your insides heat up in ways you don’t want them to for, essentially, your kidnapper. “Just don’t throw my kindness in my face and shit on it.”

“Draining my bank accounts for your own gain and keeping me as a—what, pet, is you being kind?” You spit back at him, the fire in your tone dissipating little by little the longer he looks at you like that. He’s too close and he’s too laser focused on your face, your mouth, the vein in your throat that jumps with every swallow. Toji gives you an odd little look as he inches forward, backing you up into the pillows until he’s damn near on top of you.

“Do you want me to be mean? Is that it?” He asks softly, whisper-quiet, his tone dripping in condescension as he hovers above you without ever touching you, his presence domineering and intimidating. “Do you just want to feel something for the first time in your miserable fucking life?” He spits at you, caging you in on the pillows with both of his fists planted by your head. You’re damn near lying flat on the bed, your heart in your stomach, but you still sneer at him, raising your chin in defiance as you try not to let his words maim you.

“Fuck you, that was a low blow.” You snap at him, placing your hands on his thick pecs, trying to push him back as much as you can. But he presses against your weight until your wrists buckle ever so slightly, his previous sneer melting into a lazy smirk as he settles his thighs on either side of yours.

“I could go lower.” Toji says softly, his tone suggesting something much dirtier, his gaze traveling from your lips to the tattered shirt you wear that barely covers the softness of your thighs. You snap at him before he can find something there for consumption, find it hot and wetter than it should be at the moment.

“Try it.” You say, firmly pushing him once more. This time he moves just the slightest bit, but only because he lets you move him. He grins at you, at the fire in your eyes, the way you try to shift your hips subtly to keep him from knowing what his proximity, his words, do to you.

“Oh, I like you.” Toji says, more to himself than anything. You try not to gasp at the protrusion from his sweats, how it hangs heavy, skimming your thighs as he watches your expression closely. He’s looking for a reaction, something to tell him you’re the mouse and he’s the cat, that he’s working you up just as much as you are him. But you only shove at his chest once more, scoffing.

“I bet you do, fuckin’ gold digging whore.” You spit at him, expecting that to be the breaking point, for him to lose his patience and do the worst to you that so many men have dreamed of. But Toji only laughs, low and hearty, as he sits back on his knees, finally giving you the tiniest bit of space. He still cages you in between his thick thighs, doesn’t try to hide the erection tenting his sweats as he lets his head roll to the side, almost bashfully. But nothing about the man, how he subtly flexes his muscles, grins at you with a look dripping in lust, is shy.

“Yeah, I was gonna offer.” Toji says casually with a shrug, chuckling at the way your eyes damn near bulge from your head, like what he’s saying is a casual thing shared between long time friends. “You’ve done so much for me, sweetheart; paid my debts, got me out of the hole. I figured I could do something even nicer in return than letting you live?”

Toji drapes himself over you once more, this time pressing his full body weight on you, forcing you to feel just how grateful he is. He’s nestled between your thighs, forcing the shirt up until it pools at the bottom of your stomach, exposing your panties that have gotten stickier with every passing moment. His chest is against yours, his nipples kissing your own through the fabric, his nose skimming the curve of your jaw, your cheek.

You feel like you’re being entranced by some siren, like a sailor out on the ocean being led to their death by an enticing figure that you know, subconsciously, will be the end of you. Once you do this with him, there’s no going back. Once you agree to this, there will be no deniability about your role in this entire thing, that you’re no longer some victim plagued by the shitty life you had lived for so long and was desperate for an escape.

“Giving me mediocre dick that I’m inadvertently paying for isn’t all that nice, in my personal experience.” You say instead, trying to still sound as tough, as sharp as you had beforehand, but your words come out breathy, strained. Toji only hums, declawing you moment by moment, as he rests himself atop of you, using his hands to run up and down your sides, his rough fingertips gentle, his palms thick where they cup your hips, your thighs.

“So you’re not new to this?” He asks instead of something snippy you expected. You can feel the grin pulling at his mouth against your cheek where he nuzzles you, pressing a fluttering little kiss to the heated skin. You pull away from him, trying to sink into the mattress, trying to deny the need and the want burning at the pit of your belly. You press your hands against his chest again, but he’s so close, it only aids you in feeling the hard outline of his pecs. They’re taut but soft, round, his nipples hard and poking at you through the fabric. You want to touch them.

“That’s not what I meant.” You say instead, digging your nails into his chest, hoping the pain will deter him. But Toji only hisses, rutting his hips against the underside of your belly, the roundness of your mound, a groan slipping from his parted lips.

“I’m still not hearing a no.” He says softly, turning until his mouth skims yours in not quite a kiss, but you swallow thickly, anyway.

“You’re not hearing a yes, either.” You say against his mouth, trying to fight the temptation, the pleasure thats on the rise. Toji only laughs at you though, sliding his hands beneath your shirt, brazen enough to cup your tits through your bra, making you gasp at his boldness.

“Is that it, then?” He asks sharply, touch suddenly turning mean as he squeezes your breasts in his rough hands, making you hiss out in a mix of pain filled pleasure. “You’re the type whose pleasure has to be forced on them so they can turn their brains off, be someone else for a while? That does track.” He chuckles against your mouth, rutting his hips until he’s grinding against you, grinning wide when he feels your hips moving with his in tandem, movements short and hesitant.

“Fuck you.” You spit, claws inching from his chest into his hair, yanking until he’s exposed to you, your fangs ready to tear into him, into the monster whose stolen you, who tries to make it seem like the pleasure he’s giving you was something you asked for from the beginning. (Didn’t you, though? With that sad look on your face, that hopelessness? The plead to take your life and your money, no gain for you whatsoever? Isn’t this what you wanted all along? To feel alive? To not be so lonely anymore? To be seen and touched, without having to worry about returning to normalcy in the morning?)

“I’m trying.” Toji chuckles under his breath, finally fitting his mouth to yours at the same moment he rips your bra down from your chest. You gasp against him, back arching into his grip as he palms your breasts in his hands, pinching your nipples between thick fingers, harsh. You hiss into his mouth as he kisses you, all tongue and spit as he swallows every sound you make. His cock twitches against you, leaking through the thin fabric of his sweats, dirties you with his precum that you want to taste.

“So soft,” Toji whispers as he kisses you, lips smooth yet rough against you, teeth nipping at your bottom lip to hear you gasp. “So pliant.”

He kisses his way down your throat, fitting his mouth against your pulse point, baring his teeth in threat against the thinness of your skin. He could rip your throat out if he so pleased, and you’re not sure if you would put up much of a fight in the end. But he licks at your salty skin instead, pressing sweet kisses that turn bruising with every second that passes on. Your shirt is pulled over your head without much fight, despite your strangled protest as he wrangles you out of your bra, his palms big and scarred, one bandaged that you hadn’t noticed beforehand.

Toji slides his hands beneath your body, forcing your back into an arch, pushing your breasts in his face. He skims wet lips over your taut nipples, grinning at the shaky inhale you can’t fight down.

“Sensitive little thing, aren’t ya?” He whispers, fitting his mouth around your breast, hollowing his cheeks as he lathes his tongue against the perkiness of your nipple. You want to bite at him, push him away, tell him that you don’t want this, that you should be dead right now, not enjoying the way he licks at your nipple with long, slow pulls.

“How long has it been?” Toji asks suddenly, looking up at you from beneath his lashes, keeping you in a deep arch despite the way his uninjured palm slides from underneath you to the panties that cling to your sticky lips. You don’t realize the question isn’t rhetorical until he bites at your nipple, pulling with sharp teeth as you gasp, your chest pressing against his face as you follow his canines. Toji lets go with a grunt, reveling in your hissing little moan, fingers toying with your lips through the thin material.

“I asked you a question, boss lady.” The words are a jab, just slightly. You force your eyes open, looking down at with him a grit in your lip, hands suddenly pulling at his hair in retaliation. But Toji only soothes your irritation, your meanness, pursing his lips around your nipple as he sucks, tantalizingly so. His fingertips drag up and down your lips, up and down, again and again, his touch featherlight. It makes your hips buck in pleasure, in want, need, as he teases you with a promise of mind numbing pleasure.

“How long has it been for you?” Toji repeats, fingers pressing just a little harder, enough to split your lips open, enough for him to find your swollen clit. He plays with it through the fabric, his touch light, your nerve endings on fire. Your hips buck without much control over them, your mouth dropping open in a small gasp as you try to wrack your brain for an answer.

“I don’t know,” you whisper, eyes fluttering closed as you press his head further into your breast to feel him suck at your nipple once more. “Years. A long time.”

“Hmm, I can tell,” Toji hums, grinning around your breast when you pull at his hair once more. “You were always in control, weren’t you? Telling them how fast to fuck you, how deep. Always taking your own pleasure.”

He states his words more than asks you, at the same time his fingers slip beneath the thin material of your panties. He finds your swollen clit with no problem, toying with the fat little thing, his fingers rough, circling it until your hips begin to stutter against his hand. He smiles to himself, switching to your other breast to bite at the fat there, glancing up at your glazed over eyes, how your mouth hangs open with quiet little gasps. You’re close already, he can tell. Have you never even touched yourself in that time without any partners?

“You’ve never had it forced on you, have you? Never let somebody else take the reins?” Toji whispers, fingers keeping that same rhythm against you, applying more and more pressure as he skims your nipple with his teeth. He gathers your wetness from your pulsating hole, slathering it over your clit, making your hips jerk as you hold onto his shoulders for support.

“Toji, I’m gonna cum.” You whimper, nails digging into his skin, still angry, still confused, still ready to tear into him and let him rip you equally to shreds. He grins, as if he can hear the internal war raging on in your head, fingers pressing against your clit harder with every passing moment.

“How many times do you think you can cum for me tonight?” He asks when you tip over the precipice of climax, your entire body shuddering as you whimper out a pathetic little sound. His cock twitches heavily at the way your mouth falls open, how your eyebrows screw up. God, you’re such a pretty little thing that he can’t wait to ruin. “How many times do you think I can make you, hm?”

His words turn mean as he keeps rubbing at your clit, despite your climax trying to wash itself over you. Toji doesn’t stop; if anything, he picks up his ministrations, kneeling over you as he uses his bandaged hand to press two thick, mean fingers inside of you. There’s little resistance, but the burning stretch makes your eyes roll back in a mix of emotions too complicated for your fucked out mind to process.

You cry out, legs kicking at the burly man, trying to push him away by his shoulders as you fight to get away from the pleasure. But Toji only follows you, dipping his head down to nip at your breast, at your quivering bottom lip, at the softness of your belly, your thigh.

“Stop, its too much. I can’t,” you plead, lower body shaking as you can already feel another orgasm trying to wash over you, strong and overwhelming. But Toji ignores your pleas, ducking down to replace his fingers with his mouth, sucking your swollen clit inside his warm, wet cavern. Your back arches off the bed as you cry out, much too loud, wonder if anyone is close enough to save you. Wonder if anyone cares enough to rip you away from the person who made you want to live, just for him to dangle you over the cliff of life and death as he curls too thick fingers inside of you until he presses something soft and sensitive on the first try.

“I told you, I have to show you just how thankful I am that a precious little thing like you fell right into my lap. Gotta show my gratitude to my new cash cow.” Toji mumbles around you, grinning when you try to kick him, pinning your legs down with his weight. You writhe against the bed, chest heaving as another orgasm wracks your body, this one much too soon and overwhelming. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you gasp out a soundless moan, your nails digging into the sheets as you try to buck your hips to push him away from you.

“Fuck you, fucking stop!” You cry out shakily, tears lining your eyes as you struggle to catch your breath. “I said—”

“I know what you said.” Toji hums as he cuts you off, fingers still fucking inside of you, the sound of your pleasure wet and loud as it leaks down his palm. “You also said you wanted to die. How could I ever believe anything you have to say after that?” He cocks his head at you, catching your eyes as his tongue rolls from his mouth, licks a long stripe up the swollen nub of your clit, torturous and slow. You whimper, feeling an unfamiliar pressure in your lower belly, your legs trying to twist away from him as he holds eye contact.

“Please,” you sound so pathetic, can’t think of a time where a man has reduced you to something so weak. But Toji doesn’t make fun of you, doesn’t belittle you and the tiny little noises you can’t control. Instead, he has the nerve to look a little struck by your soft sounds, the way your cunt clenches around his digits so tight, he think you’re trying to force him out.

He doesn’t let up, though. If anything, your pathetic little show has only spurred him on more, makes him wrap his lips around your clit and suck harshly as he bullies a third finger inside of you. Your back arches completely off the bed, your chest painful and tight as you fight to suck in a breath. Two orgasms back to back and he hasn’t let you take a breather once. You’re not sure you can last much longer. You think you may be dying for real this time, as your eyes roll back and your toes curl up and your entire body lets go.

“Shoulda known you were a squirter,” Toji grins to himself, mean fingers fucking into you harshly as he forces out the spray of liquid from your cunt. He pulls back to watch, getting soaked in the process, his free hand rubbing at your clit quickly to force more pleasure out of you. You think you’ve actually died this time, as your mind goes blank. It feels like your body has begun levitating from the bed, like you’ve ascended somewhere high, as your hips jerk uncontrollably in Toji’s grasp.

The moment you feel like you’re finally starting to come down, starting to catch a single breath, its punched out of you in a yelp as Toji pushes the fat head of his cock inside of your still spasming cunt. Your hips jerk in surprise at the wider stretch, another squirt of your pleasure being forced out of you, around his cock, splattering against his toned thighs as you force your eyes open. You don’t even remember him releasing his cock, don’t know how he maneuvered himself to still finger fuck you as he pulled himself out, how the transition from three fingers to an even thicker dick was done so quickly.

“You’re killing me,” you cry out, wrapping your arms around his thick neck as you can only hold on. There are tears streaming from your eyes that you hadn’t even realized were coming out of you, wet sounds emerging from between your conjoined bodies. Toji only laughs at you, loud and hearty, wrapping your trembling thighs around his waist as he presses his weight against you until you’re fully pinned under him. The smacking of his thighs against your ass is a loud, wet echo in the room, the sting of his skin only a dull feeling from how the thickness of his cock curves inside of you.

“I was always gonna kill you, baby.” Toji grins, pressing his forehead against your own until he catches your eye, your gaze hazy and unfocused. You’re completely fucked out, an empty headed little thing that he’s sure is the prettiest and most alive you’ve looked in a long time. He glances down at where you’re connected, how the fat shaft of his cock forces its way inside of you, finds you still gazing at his face with an air headed look that makes him groan.

Toji cups his hands around your nape until they lock, forcing your head down so you, too, can watch how he fucks you. How the angry red tip of him drools and leaks inside of your cunt, how the mushroom head splits you apart, how the veiny shaft fills you up, how his soaked pubes kiss your own. His balls get tight at the sight, at how he’s ruining you, the uptight business mogul who didn’t want anything more than to not exist anymore. How you plead for him to go easy on you, how you cling to him, how your eyes get little hearts with every stroke inside of your greedy, wet pussy.

“Look at how grateful I am. Watch how I fuck you,” Toji whispers, his head pressed to yours, both of your gazes stuck on how he opens you up. It’s a wet, sloppy sound, your conjoined pleasure, your cunt squeezing around him as you near your nth orgasm for the night. “Touch yourself, sweetheart, touch that pretty little clit for me.” He rasps, finds himself nearing his own orgasm much quicker than he’s used to. But you’ve gotta sweet pussy and a fat wallet, and he’s got a lifetime ahead of him to use both as he pleases.

You do so without much fuss, despite the fact that your clit is almost painfully swollen. Its sensitive to all hell, but you listen to Toji, do as he says as you watch his thick cock split you open with loud, smacking strokes. Your hips twitch from the intensity, from the overstimulation, but you rub at your clit until your body locks up, until you’re coming so hard around his cock that you think you black out for a few seconds.

When you come to, its with another gasping cry, your head pressed against the pillow as Toji finally let you go. But he jerks his cock off on your clit, his hand soaked from your own cum, uses it as lubrication to get himself off. He watches your fucked out face, his breaths heavy, the scar on his lip twitching as he bites his lip.

He cums with a grunt, his eyes clenched shut as he grits his teeth, covering your clit and pubes and tummy with thick ropes of white, hot seed. It keeps coming and coming until you’re covered, his thick tip tapping against your clit that makes your hips jolt, a whine forcing its way up your throat from the sensitivity. Toji grinds against you, even after he’s finished coming, keeps prolonging both of your pleasure now, until you’re crying and clawing at him, begging for a break, for you to be able to catch your breath, something.

Toji finally lets up when another tremble wracks your body for the final time, both of you unsure if you came again, or if your body was just overloaded for the time being. He figures that he’ll let you rest for now, since in a few hours, he’s expecting you to get your ass up and empty that bank account so that you two can fuck off to god knows where. Speaking of bank account…

Toji rolls off of you as he searches for your phone in the purse he had dropped off on the floor once he dumped you in here. He already used your credit card to rent this place for the night, but he didn’t know just how much was in your actual account. He grabs your phone, padding back over to where you’re passed out on the bed, limbs sprawled, wet between the thighs still. He can’t help but chuckle at the sight of you, before he’s opening your phone with your face ID.

He scrolls for a minute, looking for your banking information. And when he sees just how much you have in your checking and your savings, he thinks he’ll be set for the next five lifetimes. He grins to himself, cock twitching to life once more, thinking, he’ll definitely have to show his gratitude again when you wake up.

Thank you all so much for reading! kind comments/asks/likes/reblogs are so greatly appreciated! <3

#—new treat in the streets! 🍫#toji treats! 🍬#tw: suicidality

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the-not-so-silent-back-up · 3 days ago

Text

Fools ❤️‍🩹

Attention: this Fic is partly based on ture events, so it's very personal for me. you don't like it or if it's just not your thing am totally fine with it but please don't say anything mean. Thank you

Warning: no beta reader, english isn't my first language and consumtion of alcohol (In this Chapter)

Steve Harrington x fem!reader x Eddie Munson

Summary: You have a crush on Steve while Eddie has a crush on you. And everyone is a bit of a fool because for a long time no one talks about their feelings.

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

- Chapter 3 -

- The second Confession -

Summer break was around the corner, to celebrate Steve organised a big Party again. This time you helped him prepare everything you needed for a big house party. You helped him with the drinks and snacks, Robin and Nancy were in charge of the music and Dustin and Eddie carried tables and chairs to the terrace. You actually were surprised that Steve also got Eddie here to help, it seems like they actually are becoming friends.

When everything was ready, you went home to get dressed for the party. Because Eddie didn't want or care to change his clothes he came along with you.

Your mood went down somehow, you couldn't explain it yourself, so you just tried to hide it. Eddie was in a full on party mood, he was ready to dance and sing and have a good time. But despite your bad mood you wanted to wear something nice, something that makes you feel good, sometimes that Steve would like too.

And again that wave of sadness is washing over you. Is everything you do supposed to impress Steve? Is his attention that important to you? It seems like that. And you hated it a bit actually. Your crush on Steve was divided in two parts. The first part is all nice and cute, when Steve comforts you and makes you smile. And the second part where you cry because the affection is not real in the way you wished it was or when Steve was flirty with other girls and you get jealous. How could it feel so good and be so bad? Your mind is running wild as you try on a few outfits. Eddie helped you to choose an outfit. It was a light orange dress that reminded him of a sunset.

On the way back to Steve's place you decided not to drink tonight. You just had this feeling that it wouldn't be good to handle all your emotions drunk again like last time. And secondly Dustin and the other kids were invited too and someone has to look out for them right? You informed Eddie that you wouldn't drink tonight, but you only told him the second reason. He doesn't think much of it, he is actually kinda happy about it because last time you were so incredibly sad while you were drunk, and he just wants you to be happy especially after he has seen you cry so often lately.

It looked like Steve invited the whole school, the terrace was packed with people and so was the pool and the rest of the garden. Dustin ran up to you and Eddie, and hugged you both real tight “hey, you guys are finally here, I don't know anyone here except Steve of course and he is all busy. And Nancy will drive the others here but Mike just called and told me they will be late because of Nancy. And..." Dustin talked really fast and you stopped him to calm him down.

“Dustin, slow down it's okay now we are here and you don't have to worry. Also I won't drink tonight so if you are feeling uncomfortable you can always come to me okay." That really helped Dustin and he just looked at you with his soft eyes and thanked you.

“I can show you where the Snacks are, my mom made some Sandwiches and they are delicious.” Dustin grabbed your Hand and pulled you through the crowd into the kitchen.

The Sandwiches were indeed delicious, and the just the right thing right now, you haven't realised that you were hungry.

After half an hour, Nancy arrived with the other kids, and Dustin was gone again and you were alone. Eddie was gone too, having a smoke with some guy from his math class. Nancy greeted you along with Robin but they both stormed inside to the music, you had no clue what was going on. And Steve was nowhere to be seen.

I tried to have fun, you really did, you danced a bit, watched another Ping pong competition but nothing seems to work, your bad mood was winning. Steve finally showed up, with a girl you never have seen. “hey y/n, haven't seen you for a while do you like the party, this is Harper by the way. She moved here two weeks ago. I invited her so he could meet everyone.” Actually that was nice from Steve, but you couldn't stop being jealous of her. You welcomed her to hawkings but deep inside you wished she wasn’t here and Steve would walk around with you.

And he was also gone, and you started to walk around in the garden and around the house. Everyone seems like they are having a good time except you. Everytime you passed Steve he was talking and worse laughing with Harper. That should be you. He would never like you back as much as you did like him. You will always be that quiet girl that somehow ended up in his friend group.

You could feel that sadness from earlier wash over you mixed with anger towards Steve but mostly towards yourself.

Max noticed that you were standing very still and also saw your teary eyes. Carefully she asked you if everything is okay and you lied and told her that everything is okay. “But do you know where Eddie is? I need to talk to him. If you see him please tell him I am by his Van okay? ” You didn't wait for an answer and just walked off. In the distance you could hear Max talking to the other kids, that they need to find Eddie for you.

You could hear Eddie rushing towards you. His van wasn't locked so you just sat in the back already crying again.

“Max told me you need me. Is everything okay y/n?” Eddie asked out of breath.

“No, nothing is okay. It's the same shit as usual, and I am sick of it. And you know what, I am not even drunk or anything. I hate it.” you cried because of sadness and anger and you couldn't stop for so long. Eddie was a bit overwhelmed, but he did what he usually does. He held you.

After a while he asked you “what has he done this time?”

“There is that girl, she just moved here and he did spend the whole night with her.” you explained “But Eddie it's not just that. It's everything you know. This whole situation is so fucked up like my emotions are completely contrrolled by him. And he doesn't have a clue.”

Eddie waited a moment to answer. With his softest voice he said: “y/n nothing will change without an action. I see that you often feel terrible about your crush, and I promise you that I will always be there for you. This crush is killing you sweetheart, and I am so mad at Steve that again he makes you so sad, but as you said he doesn't know about your feelings.”

You wipe some tears away “what do you mean with that?”

Eddie took a deep breath “You always say that you know Steve doesn't like you romantically.”

“yes”

“And what I am hearing is also that you wished that your feelings for him were gone.”

“yeah?”

“I think you need to tell Steve the truth. And either way you can move on from your crush.”

You looked Eddies in the eyes, he was serious.

And when you fully realised what that meant you started crying all over again.

“I cannot do that, I am not brave enough” you said between crying “and what if I am ruining our friendship with that?”

Eddie held you tight “I am not forcing you to do anything. But I just see how miserable this crush makes you feel. And I hate to see you like this. I still will comfort you in ten years, but I doubt that in ten years you still wanna cry about the same guy.”

You took a deep breath and held Eddie's hands for support

“And I doubt it that this will ruin your friendship, because he does like you, he likes being around you and you have nice memories together. And if he actually doesn't wanna be friends with you after that he is even more stupid than I thought.”

You laughed a bit at the last part.

“Okay, I will tell him. But we need to be alone.” Eddie nodded.

“Could you bring Steve here and we can talk here in your van?”

"Of course y/n. I will search for him and send him over to you.” Eddie couldn't stop himself and gave you a kiss on the top of your head and whispered in your ear “you are brave and you are a wonderful and lovely girl”. With that he walked off towards the crowd.

Everything in your body told you to run, but you stayed and waited for Steve.

A few minutes passed and Steve arrived at Eddie's van and called your Name several times, till he found you in the back.

“Hey y/n, Eddie said you needed me. Is everything good? Do you wanna go home?”

He sat next to you looking worried at you, but you couldn't look back.

“Steve, there is something I need to tell you.” you said with an already shaky voice “and I hope it won't change our friendship.”

Now Steve looked confused and worried but he understood that the situation is serious so he just waited for your next move.

You took a deep breath and gathered all your courage but you still couldn't look at him.

“Steve, I have a crush on you, for a few years now” as you said the words you immediately began to cry again you hid your face in your hands. You could hear Steve's little “Oh” and as you started crying he put one arm around you and he leaned down to try to look at you.

“And I know that we will never be more than friends, because I am not your type at all but my heart didn't care I still developed a crush on you.”

Steve has a hard time listening to you through your sobs but he was able to understand you. He didn't know what to say, he just sat there with you sobbing in his arms. After a while he finally said something “Oh y/n, for years?” he also took a deep breath “I like you. I really do, you are one of my favorite people here but sadly you are right I don't like you in a romantic way.” Finally you looked up, Steve looked sad and sorry, as if he wished he would also have a crush on you.

“I know, and I really wish that my stupid crush doesn't change our friendship. That's why I haven't told anyone about it for so long, I thought that if you knew about my true feelings, you wouldn't wanna be friends with me anymore.” with that said you started crying again and Steve held you close “Of course we still be friends.”

That really made you feel a bit better but you were still hurt. “Who else knows about your feelings for me?” Steve asked

“Only Eddie, I told him at your last pool party when I got so drunk. Since then he always comforted me when I was sad about you”

Steve looked guilty “I made you feel sad so often that Eddie had to comfort you. Y/n, I am really sorry about that, if I only knew.”

You gave him a sad smile “Yeah Eddie was actually kinda mad at you for that, but Steve it isn't your fault, it was the whole point that you didn't know.”

“Can I ask you something?” Steve's voice was soft. You just nodded.

“What did I do that made you so sad?”

“Sometimes I was jealous of other girls when you didn't pay attention to me. But most of the time it was just the fact that you don't like me as much as I do, and when you encouraged me or made me a compliment it was fully platonic and nothing more and I wished it was more every time.”

“Yeah, that can bring you down.” he squeezes you a bit “And what made you tell me now?”

“I don't want to have this crush on you anymore, and even though I always knew you don't like me like that Eddie thought it would help me get over you when I finally hear it from you. So I did the bravest thing I ever did and told you the truth.”

“Eddie is a good friend you know,” Steve said smiling.

“yeah he is”

“I guess he is right, maybe now you can move on from your crush.”

“I hope so too, I mean right now I feel terrible. But hopefully I will feel better in a few days or weeks.”

“I am sure you will y/n and one day a guy will fall head over heels for you and then you don't even remember who that Steve guy was.”

You actually laughed a bit and Steve gave you a genuine smile.

You sat there with Steve for a while and talked about everything and nothing the whole time he held your hand. The whole situation still hurt but Steve's reaction was nice and truthful and you were glad your friendship means as much to him as it did to you.

After a while you stood up and said “Steve I am tired I wanna go home and you should go back to your party.”

“Do you want me to bring you home?”

“No no go back to your party, I bet everyone misses their host. Maybe I'll ask Eddie.” Steve hugged you as goodbye and went off. Eddie was walking towards you but was stopped by Steve and they also hugged.

As Eddie reached you he didn't say anything he just hugged you for a very long time.

“What did Steve want from you?” you asked him after a while. “He thanked me that I helped you with your crush and he wanted me to bring you home”

And that was exactly what Eddie did, he brought you home safe and made sure you don't start crying again.

#Alina writes #The-not-so-silent-back-up #Steve harrington x reader x Eddie Munson #Steve harrington #Eddie munson #Reader #Steve harrington x reader #Steve harrington x you #Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson x you #Fools ❤️‍🩹

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alicelillianshaw · 2 days ago

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'No, no. Don’t undersell it now. I’m prepared for whatever greatness you’re about to share with me.'

Alice releases a great sigh, knowing she had no choice— and also feeling strangely eager to tell Jack about something so silly and mundane.

Jack had watched Scooby-Doo, but likely needed a refresher. Yeah. Alice didn't make a habit to watch it now either, until all the girls were together for the holidays, crammed on a plaid couch that held them far easier when they were little.

'Let’s hear what greatness you and Rebekkah came up with.'

Greatness. Right. Maybe underwhelming would be the better word. Alice grins as Jack begins to kick his legs in unison.

"So— you know how Shaggy and Scooby would make really tall sandwiches? They'd stack sausage and lettuce and tomato and turkey, yadda yadda. You get it. That's what we do. But with snacks— snack stacks, we call them. Except you'd layer like a goldfish cracker, and a popcorn kernel, a m&m, and then a sourpatch, and then a skittle and—"

"Except it's like, really hard to stack round items like that? You have to pinch them really carefully between two fingers and it's kind of like a contest who can make the best stack. Which is— height. And flavor combination, I guess? And the goal is to shove the entire stack into your mouth in one bite like Shaggy does, so you have to open your mouth really really wide while keeping the stack balanced."

Alice pauses, aware of how stupid it all sounds, and yet despite that, she widens the gap between her pointer finger and thumb, as if to demonstrate to Jack the precarious arrangement of snacks.

A beat. She clears her throat, wishing for a cold ocean gust to cool her face.

"And— I am well aware of how stupid this sounds, to someone who makes national policy, but."

Alice shrugs.

"That is how we do it."

There was a bit of relief knowing that Alice’s phone number was secured in his phone, backed up by the cloud. He could, theoretically, fling his phone to the bottom of the pool, and he’d still be able to get in touch with her tomorrow.

Cool.

“No, no. Don’t undersell it now. I’m prepared for whatever greatness you’re about to share with me.”

Jack wasn’t being a jerk, either. He was absolutely positive that whatever Alice shared with him would be the single greatest thing that he’d ever heard.

“Have you ever seen Scooby Doo? Me and Rebekkah— my oldest sister— that's where we got the inspo from.”

Rebekkah Shaw. Alice Shaw. Rebekkah was the oldest sister. Was Rebekkah the one that had provided a safe refuge for the guinea pig, back in college? These were all very important details that Jack wanted to know. There was nothing too insignificant or minor that he didn’t want to know, honestly.

“Well. I used to watch it as a kid, but it’s been a while, so. You might need to refresh my memory.”

Jack watched as she kicked her legs against the water. Jack did the same.

“Let’s hear what greatness you and Rebekkah came up with.”

#SOBS SLDJFSDFDSF

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euphoriaishername · 2 days ago

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Will Marriage Take Away Who I Am?

Part 1 | Part 2

The next day passed in a blur for you.

You worked mechanically, ignoring the tight knot in your stomach, the unbearable silence between you and Joshua since last night.

By the time you got home, you were exhausted — mentally, physically, emotionally drained.

The doorbell rang just as you were kicking off your shoes after a long day. You frowned in confusion, setting your bag down, your heart fluttering with the instinctive anxiety that came when something unexpected happened. Padding over, you pulled open the door — only to find Jeonghan leaning casually against the frame, a mischievous little smile playing on his lips.

"Hey, angel," he greeted easily, like this was the most natural thing in the world.

"Oppa?" you blinked in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugged, holding up a plastic bag that crinkled with the promise of snacks. "Thought I'd crash here tonight. Haven't hung out with my favorite sister in a while."

Despite the exhaustion pulling at your bones, you couldn't help the small, genuine smile that crept onto your face. Jeonghan had that effect — like he carried light in his pocket and scattered it wherever he went. You stepped aside, letting him in without a second thought.

The evening unfolded slowly, comfortably.

You both lazed around your small living room, snacking, joking about work, teasing each other lightly. Nothing heavy, nothing serious. Just simple, easy companionship that felt like breathing.

Hours passed like that, and when the clock neared midnight, the two of you drifted to the balcony, the night cool against your skin.

You leaned against the railing, chin resting on your arms, breathing in the quiet city air. Jeonghan settled beside you, swinging his arms loosely.

And then — soft, almost hesitant — he said it.

"You know," he said lightly, watching the stars, "Joshua told me about the fight."

You stiffened.

"I didn’t ask him to," he added quickly. "But... I think he needed someone to talk to."

You stayed silent, staring at the skyline, your heart pounding painfully against your ribs.

"He didn’t tell me everything," Jeonghan said gently. "Just enough."

He glanced at you from the corner of his eye.

"I want to hear your side, Aera," he said quietly.

You swallowed hard, your throat thick.

No one else knew.

Only Joshua. Only him.

But Jeonghan’s voice was patient, unjudging.

And maybe... maybe it was time to say it out loud.

You looked out into the dark sky, the stars faint behind the city lights, and you let yourself speak.

“The problem is not Joshua, never. He is the best person I could ask for. He has been waiting for seven years. And I am taking him for granted. But I love him, oppa. I really do. But my fear exists from way before I even met him.”

Jeonghan doesn’t speak. He simply leans his arms on the railing, waiting.

“I've seen many failed marriages in my house,” you continue. “My masi and bua… trapped in oppressive households. Some of my relatives from Papa's side had love marriages, but so many divorced or just don’t stay together. One of them has two wives somehow, and his first one — even after being cheated on — still holds on, still lives with him. Letting him go back and forth. I wonder how she does it.”

Jeonghan’s brows crease slightly, the barest movement of pain at hearing what you grew up with. But he says nothing, letting you speak.

You swallow.

“I was brought up in a family where I was told that once I’m married, I no longer belong to my family. That I’d have to leave behind our traditions, our rituals, everything. That I’d need to accept my husband’s family as my own. And I hated it. I still do. Culture and roots — they make me who I am.”

The wind brushes your hair back as your voice trembles slightly.

“I already left my country and settled here. But leaving everything else — everything within me — and changing what I am... just seems too much to ask for.”

Jeonghan’s gaze drops to his hands. He says nothing, but you know he’s listening to every word.

“Mumma used to work before marriage. A small job. It made her happy. She used to tell me about it — about the little things she did, the independence she had. When I asked her why she stopped, she said she had a household to take care of. That era would never allow her to continue working.”

Your voice softens, sadness blooming at the edges.

“She didn’t just give up her job. She gave up her life. Her dreams. Her freedom. Herself. And because of that, she engraved it into me and didi: that we need to be independent. So we never end up like her. So trapped that we can’t even take our own decisions.”

You take a shivering breath. “And now that I am independent, now that I have my freedom — I can’t let it go. Marriage is scary to me because I can’t sacrifice everything I’ve worked for my whole life just to be someone’s wife. I can’t lose myself.”

Jeonghan’s lips part slightly, like he might say something — but you keep going, because it’s pouring now, thick and unstoppable.

“I have always seen my parents fight. Not two-sided fights like me and Joshua. No — one-sided ones. My mother fought. My father listened. Never once in my life did I see my father start a fight. It was always Mumma. And it was never small. They were battles. Battles she fought alone to get what she needed.”

Jeonghan shifts slightly, pain flickering in his expression.

“My father... he’s the best father I could ever ask for. Supportive. Always there for me. But as a husband...” Your voice cracks slightly. “I always doubted him. He was there physically, financially. But not emotionally. Not the way she needed.”

“And the fights... they were always the same. For twenty-seven years, I’ve seen them. Mumma asking for the same thing. Him listening, nodding, but never really changing anything. I wondered if he really understood her. And if he did, why didn’t he act like it?”

You blink back tears. “It felt like all of her screams and tears went to deaf ears. He listened. He had sympathy. But he never solved the problem. Maybe he got tired. Maybe she was harsh and rude. But she deserved to be heard. She deserved what she was asking for.”

A pause.

"I remember once — my 18th birthday." You smiled faintly, but it was a sad, distant thing. "I was so excited. You know how I get about birthdays."

Jeonghan smiled softly, remembering.

"But that excitement just... died. Because they were fighting. In the morning. Again. And I remember that said to my mother that night, I never want to get married."

Your chest ached saying it aloud. Like a wound being stitched open and closed all at once.

“In their happy moments, I saw love. But in the distance between them, I saw none. And that scared me more than anything. What if the love fades one day? What if, in the silence between us, there’s nothing left?”

Your eyes lift to Jeonghan’s now. And your voice drops even lower.

“I’m so much like my mother, oppa. In my temper. Her fire lives in me. And Joshua — he’s like Papa. Patient. Supportive. And that scares me more. What if it all plays again? What if one day... he grows tired of me, the way Papa did of Mumma?”

You stop, and the quiet between you stretches deep.

Jeonghan doesn’t say anything at first.

He looks at you — really looks at you — and you know he’s hearing every piece of the girl behind those fears, the one who’s been carrying this for far too long.

His voice, when it finally comes, is low — almost a whisper, but steady.

"First," he says, "I'm really glad you told me all this. You didn’t have to, and you trusted me enough to say it. I’m honored by that, kiddo."

You blink quickly, throat tightening again.

"And second —" his eyes soften even more, "— none of this makes you selfish. None of this makes you ungrateful to Joshua. You’re not taking him for granted. Loving someone doesn't erase old wounds overnight. Especially not ones you grew up seeing every single day."

He leans in a little, his voice quieter now.

"You know... when you see the same story play out over and over," he said slowly, "it’s easy to believe there’s no other way for it to end."

He glanced at you, his expression gentle.

"But that’s a lie."

You looked at him, uncertain, fragile in the dim light.

"Aera," he said, using your name with a rare seriousness, "you are not your mother’s story. You’re not anyone else’s either. You said your fear exists from way before you even met him. And you're right. These fears aren’t about Joshua. They’re about what you were taught to expect from love and marriage. And honestly? It’s completely fair to be afraid when all you've seen are examples that hurt you."

He pauses, letting it sink in.

"You talked about the marriages you saw around you. About women trapped in houses that didn't feel like homes. About love that turned into prison sentences." Jeonghan’s mouth twists, like it physically hurts him to imagine you feeling that way. "No wonder you’re scared. You were taught that marriage means losing yourself, not finding a home. But listen to me—"

He taps a gentle finger under your chin, lifting your gaze back up to his.

"Marriage isn’t supposed to erase you. It’s supposed to expand you. Good love — real love — doesn’t ask you to kill parts of yourself to fit into it."

Your chest aches at how softly he says it.

"And about leaving your culture, your roots?" Jeonghan gives a soft, almost sad smile. "That idea they planted in you — that you have to leave behind everything you are just because you get married — that’s wrong. So wrong. The people who love you should want you to carry your roots with you. To be more of yourself, not less. Joshua knows that. He would never ask you to leave your culture behind. You know that."

He lets the words settle.

"And about your mom, giving up her job and her dreams... I hear you. And it wasn't fair. She shouldn’t have had to give up everything just to be accepted. She shouldn’t have been trapped like that. It’s good that she taught you to stay free. It’s good that you listened. Im proud of where and how you stsnd today"

Jeonghan’s hand brushes yours lightly, anchoring you.

"You’re right to value your freedom. You fought hard for it. You built yourself into someone you’re proud of. I’ve seen it. Marriage — with the right person — shouldn't mean you have to tear that all down. It should mean having someone who builds it higher with you."

You feel your lip tremble, but you don’t look away.

"And about your parents" His voice gentles even more. "Your father — he sounds like he tried, in his own way. But he failed her in the ways that mattered most. And your mother fought for herself. She fought alone when she shouldn’t have had to. You grew up watching someone love and scream at the same time and someone else love silently, without ever stepping up."

He shakes his head slowly.

"No wonder you fear if love fades. No wonder you fear if patience just turns into resentment."

Jeonghan leans forward just a little.

"But angel, you are not your parents. You are not your mother. And Joshua is not your father."

The truth in his voice roots deep in your chest.

"You are not going to become trapped like your mother. You are not going to be left unheard. Because you already know what to watch for. You’re already aware. You know the warning signs. You know what you need, and you’re brave enough to say it out loud. That’s already a thousand steps ahead of what your mother ever had."

"And Joshua —" his lips curve into a small smile, "— he’s not going to stand still while you scream. I know that boy. He wants to hear you. He wants to fight beside you, not against you."

Your eyes well up as Jeonghan goes on, firm and tender.

"You’re scared he’ll get tired of you. That he’ll grow exhausted, like your father did. But baby, Joshua’s not standing on the other side of the battlefield. He’s standing with you. He chose you, knowing your fire. He loves your fire. And he’ll keep choosing you."

He nudges you lightly with his shoulder, trying to ease the tears you’re holding back.

"And even if you do fight sometimes — even if you’re loud and passionate like your mom — that's not a bad thing. Fighting for yourself isn’t bad. Being fierce about your needs isn’t bad. It’s beautiful. You are beautiful."

Jeonghan’s voice softens even more, a hand coming to rest carefully over yours.

"You are not too much. You are not doomed to repeat what hurt you. You are not unlovable because you’re afraid."

He smiles, small and earnest.

"And you’re not alone. You have Joshua. You have me. You have all of us. And we're not going anywhere."

The night presses closer around you, but suddenly, it feels less heavy — like somehow, just hearing it, just being heard, is enough to loosen the tightness in your chest.

Jeonghan squeezes your hand once, gently.

"You’re allowed to be scared," he says. "But don’t forget — you’re also allowed to be loved."

For a long moment, you just sit there, breathing in the silence that follows Jeonghan’s words.

Something aches deep in your chest — not the bad kind of ache, not the one that comes from fear. It’s a slow, breaking open, like the way rivers swell when winter ice melts: painful, but necessary.

You glance down at your hands — small, trembling slightly, tangled in the folds of your sweater. Jeonghan’s hand still rests lightly over yours, anchoring you to the moment.

"Oppa" your voice comes out cracked and small.

But he’s already looking at you — not expecting anything from you. Just being there.

"I’m so scared," you whisper, your throat tightening.

He squeezes your hand gently. "It’s okay to be scared. You’re still brave."

Tears sting at your eyes — thick, hot tears that you can’t hold back this time. They spill over quietly, slipping down your cheeks.

"I don’t want to lose myself," you choke out. "I don’t want to lose Joshua either. I don’t want to lose me."

"You won’t," Jeonghan says immediately, firmly. His voice doesn’t waver once. "You’re stronger than you think, aera. You’ve been carrying so much for so long but you don't have to carry it alone anymore."

Your shoulders shake as more tears slip free, silent and aching. You don’t sob. You don’t wail. You just cry — years and years of silent fears loosening from your chest, years of pretending you weren’t afraid bleeding into the night air.

Jeonghan doesn't try to rush you. He doesn’t try to shush you or fix it. He just shifts closer, slipping his arms around your shoulders carefully, like he’s afraid you might shatter if he holds you too tight.

You lean into him — hesitant at first — and then all at once, burying your face into his shoulder.

"I’m so tired," you whisper brokenly against him.

"I know, baby," he murmurs. "You’ve been so strong for so long."

He rocks you gently — barely a motion, more of a comfort than a rhythm — while you let yourself be held, for once not needing to be the strong one.

The cool night air brushes against your skin, but Jeonghan’s warmth shields you from it, steady and safe.

After a while — minutes or maybe hours; you can’t tell — your tears slow, your breathing evens. You pull back a little, sniffling, wiping at your damp cheeks with your sleeves.

Jeonghan lets you, his hands resting lightly on your arms, not letting you drift too far.

"You know," he says quietly, his voice almost teasing, "if you ever forget how much you’re loved, I’m going to have to personally show up and lecture you like your mom does."

A wet, hiccupy laugh bursts out of you despite yourself. You cover your mouth with your hand, eyes wide, the sudden sound shocking both of you.

Jeonghan grins, triumphant.

"There she is," he says softly, his eyes warm with pride, "My pretty angel"

You sniff again, laughing weakly, and he reaches out, gently putting some strands behind your ear.

"No more doubting yourself, okay? Or at least" he smiles, "f you’re gonna doubt, let us remind you just how wrong you are."

You nod, your chest still tight but lighter somehow.

"I love him so much" you whisper.

"I know, baby" Jeonghan says. "And he loves you even more."

You press your lips together to stop yourself from crying again. Instead, you sit with him a while longer — just the two of you, side by side on the balcony, under a sky scattered with stars.

For the first time in a long time, you don’t feel crushed by your fears. They’re still there — real, stubborn — but somehow, with Jeonghan’s words holding you up and Joshua’s love waiting patiently inside, they don't feel unbeatable anymore.

You are not trapped.

You are loved.

And you are not alone.

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