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clanwarrior-tumbly · 9 months ago

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Hi there!

If you still take stardew valley requests please write hurt/comfort with Shane and (gn) reader about Shane getting progressively more worried about the farmer each time they go mining because of all the injuries they get there to the point where one day he snaps and breaks down in front of the farmer. It would be nice if you could show shane slowly loosing his mind each day but that would probably make the fic longer so no pressure. just pls make sure theres comfort after the hurt, bad endings make me sad :(

Thank you in advance, and even if you choose not to write this i hope you still have a lovely day.

I'm always down for Shane angst <3

In my main file I fear he's like this bc I'm constantly coming back from the dangerous mines/skull caverns on like 1 hp at 1:50 am

......

(Spring, Year 1)

"Hi, Shane!"

"God, what do you want now?"

"Nothing. I'm off to the mines." You grinned at the rugged man in front of you, holding up your pickaxe. "I'm shooting for level 120 this time, and hopefully I can pick up more gems along the way."

Shane raised a brow. "...and I care because?"

"You don't have to. Just thought I'd let you know."

'What? Like you think I'll go looking for you if you pass out? Forget it. Whatever happens is your own damn fault."

"I know the risks, but thank you." You politely answered, ignoring his blunt rudeness before checking the monster slayer guide. "The Adventurer's Guild wants me to slay a ton of bats...only 200 more to go."

""Adventurer's Guild?" Sounds stupid and childish." He grumbled, taking a swig of joja cola in his grasp. He was already running late to work, and he didn't want to get yelled at by Morris.

And he certainly didn't want you, the new farmer who made it their mission to annoy the shit out of him everyday, being the reason.

"Well it's neither of those things. It's actually thrilling." You chuckled, before digging an emerald out of your pocket. "I meant to sell this yesterday, but you can have it."

"...the hell? What am I supposed to do with this?" His brows furrowed at the green mineral you shoved into his hand.

"Keep it..for good luck, I guess?" You shrugged. "You can put it in your pocket and forget about it if you want. I just wanted to give you something nice. Plus, not to be weird, but...it kinda reminded me of your eye color."

Normally, any other villager would've been thrilled that you wanted to befriend them with gifts that reminded you of them.....

Yet Shane just stared at you as though you've confessed to stalking him.

"If you wanna give me something that's actually "nice", buy me a beer at the saloon next time." He sneered, brushing past you and continuing towards JojaMart, while you headed north of town, already knowing what you're gonna do tonight.

When you looked over your shoulder, you could see him pocket the emerald rather than throw it away despite him passing by several trash cans.

And you smiled.

(Present Day)

"Awh, you still held onto that emerald even after all this time?"

"Yeah, so what? It was the first gift anyone's really given me.." Shane confessed, heat rising to his cheeks as he held the mineral between his fingers. "I never believed in all that crap about crystals and "energy" that Emily talks about. But..I just like keeping this one around. It's like...erm..."

"A testament to the start of our friendship and eventual marriage?" You cheekily grinned as you polished your weapon, before looking to your husband.

He nodded. "Exactly what I was gonna say."

"I know you so well." Chuckling, you walked over to kiss him on the cheek. "I'm gonna head to the mines, okay? Welwick says the spirits will shower everyone in good luck. I wanna see if the fabled prismatic shards really do exist."

Almost immediately, Shane froze..and he found himself wanting to desperately say "no" and convince you to stay on the farmhouse.

But he didn't know why.

From the moment he met you, he knew you sought adventure and profits in the mines, fighting all sorts of monsters for the Adventurer's Guild. He's seen skeletons, mummies, and golems caged up at Spirits' Eve festivals, but never the wild ones below the surface who attacked you relentlessly.

Yet you never let the constant dangers deter you from exploring.

Mining was exhausting work, yet rewarding every time you cracked a stone open to find a diamond or discovered a treasure chest. With the materials you've gathered, you were able to craft some rings to wear, enchanted with powers to help make your excursions easier and safer.

Despite being well-prepared, though, Shane did have his concerns...especially as once you came home after clashing with skeletons, a scar on your head from a flying femur bone that still hasn't fully healed.

You only went to Harvey to get it checked out after your husband--who was your boyfriend at the time--insisted on it.

Even before that, he'd see you around town, bearing a new bug bite, scratch, burn, bruise, or bandaid on your body.

It never worried him before, but after that skeleton incident, he finally understood that those monsters were real and you were seriously getting yourself hurt.

He'd go to the mines with you if not for his fears that he'll only make things worse. There's a good chance he'll slow you down and find himself getting swarmed by slimes, bats, bugs, and whatever the hell else was there....and he wasn't exactly the most fit to swing a sword or pickaxe.

Simple walks made him tired.

What good would he do?

"Shane? What's wrong?"

Blinking, he snapped out his thoughts and saw your concerned face. "Nothing, sweetheart." He dismissed, giving you a little smile. "Just be careful out there, alright? I'll take care of things here."

"Thank you, baby." Smiling back, you gave him a kiss before heading out the door with your backpack and tools. "Off to the bottom of the mines I go!"

Shane tensed.

"Wait-"

As quickly as the door opened, it slammed shut, and he was left by himself in the cabin.

It was an uncomfortable silence.

'Maybe I should've tagged along.....buh, what am I saying? They'll be fine. They do this all the time. Stop getting so worked up, idiot..' Clearing his mind yet again, he went off to check things around the farm for you, deciding to watch TV later on.

There was gonna be another Tunneler's game tonight, so at least he had that to look forward to.

Nothing like that, some good food in the fridge, and this cozy cabin he got to call home...

And it was all because of you.

If you could build everything here and still having the energy to go mining and fight monsters, why should he worry?

1:20 AM

After a productive day, Shane managed to fall asleep early for once.

Only be woken up by the creak of the bedroom door.

Light almost immediately flooded his vision, stirring him from his slumber as he grumbled and tried to shield his eyes, wondering what time it was.

"Fuck..morning already-?"

"No, honey..it's...just me. Sorry.."

He blinked, sitting up to see that it was only you coming into the room, removing your rings. One of them served as your light source, yet it didn't hide the numerous scratched and bruises that littered your skin.

And they were all fresh.

"Babe, wha...are you okay?" Shane was now fully awake, watching as you peeled off your jacket and trousers, tossing them into the corner of the room before dragging yourself into bed.

Only then could he see your injuries up close and personal, and his heart began racing. "What happened? You look like hell."

"I'm fine, Shane. I just..need to sleep it off.."

"B-But...there's blood everywhere.." He mumbled, his eyes going to the clothes in the corner. "I can call Harvey-"

"No..don't. I already patched myself up. I'll be fine in the morning..I just wanna be here with you." Smiling weakly, you kissed him, before putting the prismatic shard into his hand. "Look. It exists...haha...it's so pretty, right? It's yours."

He didn't know what to say, staring dumbfounded at the mineral.

What hell did you go through to get this?

And as much as he loved it..why get it for him?

Why risk your life?

But when he looked back to question you further, you were already passed out beside him, looking peaceful despite the wounds on your body.

Eventually, he slid the prismatic shard under his pillow and laid back down, only to hesitate in wrapping his arm around you.

All he could do was gaze at your exhausted face..and the dried blood under your nose.

Least to say, he had trouble falling back to sleep.

..........

Ever since that night, Shane's grown increasingly worried over your safety during your mining trips. And it began to affect his usual routine around the farm.

In fact, calling it "worry" at this point would be a heavy understatement..

It became straight-up paranoia.

Whether you headed off to the mines or Skull Caverns early because of an "extra lucky day" or simply because you needed a specific resource, you'd always come back home the same way:

At later hours, with more injuries and bandages than last time, constantly on the verge of passing out and barely able to hold a conversation with him.

Of course, you'd have breakfast with him, and you'd never leave the farmhouse without giving him a kiss...but it did nothing to ease his mind, as he'd constantly see your wounds and dread whatever horror stories you were about to tell him.

Even though you're perfectly nonchalant as you talk about a serpent who tried wrapping itself around you and squeeze every last breath out of your body, it made Shane feel utterly sick to his stomach.

How could you be so calm after so many brushes with death?

He didn't understand.

On the surface, he seemed fine with you leaving. But when you did, he'd find himself turning to beer to calm his nerves..although most days he was able to resist the urge and occupy himself with farming tasks or video games.

Despite this, he hasn't outright told you anything. He knew mining was your passion and thought you'd chastise him for "worrying over nothing".

So he kept it to himself, thinking his anxiety was being stupid.

Then the final straw came the evening when he got a call from Harvey's clinic around 5PM.

One that he hoped to never hear:

You passed out, and were currently being treated for serious injuries.

He bolted out the cabin, all the way to the town square and damn near broke the door down. There, Harvey, Linus, and Marlon were at your bedside, the latter two having brought you in after seeing you fall unconscious in from of the elevator, covered in blood and shrapnel.

Fortunately, you were expected to make a full recovery with just stitches and some IV fluids to rehydrate your body...but you still owed Shane one hell of an explanation.

This time around, you landed in an "infested" area of the 100s, trying to use a bomb to kill off most of the monsters.

Only to trip over a stupid lava crab and drop the bomb after you just ignited it, damn near losing your leg trying to kick it away from you in time.

And by the grace of Yoba, you were able to limp your way back to the ladder, return to floor zero, where Linus so-happened to be passing by the mine entrance.

You gave the poor old man quite a fright, as he didn't know how much blood on you was from the monsters...or you.

In the end, the bomb left shrapnel in your flesh, searing your clothing and requiring stitches to ensure you didn't bleed out. You appreciated Harvey for his quick work and for Linus and Marlon for taking you to him.

However nobody in that clinic was more terrified over your condition than Shane, who was in disbelief that you were able to stand and walk back home with him after getting discharged.

He wouldn't talk to you, although his hands shook as he helped you into bed, still sleeping beside you like he did every night before this.

But this time...he had the worst nightmare possible.

He was down in the mines with you, except he felt stuck and couldn't do anything to warn you or save you from the impending danger.

It was like he was spectating a game, instead forced to watch as the bats and monsters made of shadows descended upon you with their teeth bared and claws out, tearing into your body. You had yelled for him to save you, to stop being useless, damning him for not stopping you from leaving...yet their horrible noises drowned out any further shouts.

Then you were gone.

You were gone and he failed you.

And it was all his fault.

It made him joltbwide awake at 3 AM, and he felt like his heart was about to burst from his chest. His mind kept going to you, constantly checking to make sure you're still breathing, unable to fall back to sleep for a while.

When he did, he was in tears.

..........

"No."

"Shane, I know last night was bad. But I'm not-"

"You're not going to the mines today. I mean it."

Dumbfounded, you gazed at Shane, who was physically blocking you from leaving the cabin. A scowl was written all over his face.

You sighed and rubbed the side of your head. "It's only the first few levels, honey. Willy needed bug meat for-"

"Right. The "first few" you say, and then I'll get a call from Harvey at 2 AM about you needing emergency surgery again." He gritted his teeth, tears coming to his eyes. "Whatever he or anyone in this damn town needs in those mines can wait. Why can't you just stay?!"

"I don't understand.." Your eyebrows furrowed. "You never cared before if I went there. What changed?"

"What changed....? What changed is that I've been having a lot more of sleepless nights lately! I can barely eat or do anything except worry and worry about you. And it's because...because..." He trailed off.

"Because what?"

"......."

You sighed. "Shane, if you're not gonna tell me what's wrong, then I don't see why-"

"Because you've been scaring me to death okay?!" His hands now gripping your shoulders as he stared at you. "You think you're invincible, but you aren't. What don't you get?! How badly are you gonna let those things hurt you?! Or be the reason YOU DROP DEAD AND DON'T COME HOME?!!" He screamed.

Your own eyes widened, stunned by his words..and eventually you saw the realization flash across his face as he blurted out his true feelings.

The ones he tried to hide from you, yet consumed him for hours upon hours whenever you left for the mines.

It made your heart plummet.

His breath hitched, and you then saw the tears beginning to fall from his greenish eyes.

"Shane..."

"[Y/n], you saved me from throwing my life away. And...i-it's like you're throwing away yours for no reason!" He sobbed. "Night after night, I have nightmares of seeing your limp body..a-and....and I can't save you. I can't do anything except scream and beg them to stop hurting you! But they never listen! A-And...I just...I-I don't wanna lose you. I can't lose you..."

He looked totally shattered, making you finally realize how serious this was.

Your guilt right now was immensurable, watching the man you loved fall apart right in front of you.

And it was your fault.

"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry..." You pulled him into a tight hug, and he completely broke down in your arms. His quiet crying became muffled by your shoulder. "I..I had no idea you were feeling that way. Why didn't you tell me about the nightmares sooner?"

"You would've thought..th-they were stupid. Or that I sound "needy" or controlling.." He sniffled. "I-I know I can't stop you from going, but...I just..a-after what happened to you last night, I...I.."

"Oh, honey..that was my dumb mistake. The monsters had nothing to do with my injuries." Rubbing his back, you gently kissed his head. "I was tired and got clumsy with a stupid bomb..but I promise it won't happen again. You're right. I'm not invincible. I need that reality check sometimes."

He didn't say anything, instead holding onto you tighter.

You never realized how badly your mining trips and injuries were affecting him...affecting this very relationship.

The Shane you met back in Year 1 could care less if you dropped dead. He outright said he'd never go looking for you and that whatever happened was your own fault.

But the Shane you knew now was crying in your arms over the mere thought that one day you'll go into the mines and never come out, holding it all in until he couldn't anymore.

You've really helped him open up to you, but now you were tearing him apart inside and never really knew it until this point.

"W-Will you just..stay here today, please?" He finally spoke, not caring about how needy or pathetic that sounded.

"...I will." You answered. "I'll take a break from mining for a good while."

"....you would do that for me?"

"Of course. I'd do anything for you, Shane. Hell..I'd give that up altogether if you wanted me to."

You felt him shake his head, and you chuckled, squeezing him tightly. "I'm only kidding, but I promise. No more mining this week."

Shane raised his head up, looking to make sure you were serious. And he saw nothing but sincerity in your expression.

You sighed softly and cupped the sides of his wet face, seeing the torrent of anxiety and frustration raging like an ocean current in his eyes. "You must've felt so lonely and terrified, baby..I'm sorry. I won't make you feel that way ever again."

He sniffled again as you brushed away his tears, before taking ahold of your wrist to kiss your palm...where your first scar from a rock crab came from.

How badly did he wanna kiss away every scar those bastards left on you until none remained.

Some faded with time and care, but others were more permanent--testaments to your survival down in the mines..as well as your several brushes with death.

Heat rose to your cheeks, watching him become so affectionate and gentle with you, even though he knows you're not made of glass whatsoever.

Eventually, his tears ceased as you both decided to go lay down on the bed together, with Shane cuddling up to you and resting his head on your chest. All he could hear was your strong heartbeat drowning out the noise in his mind.

It was still kicking, like you.

"Thank you..god, that was exhausting.." He mumbled. "I'm sor-"

"You don't have to be sorry for being honest with me." You reassured, petting his hair. "I just..wish I picked up the signs sooner."

"INah, I should've been clearer...and maybe that would spare myself this headache I got now.."

"Hmm..how about we sleep in until you feel better? Then we can check on the chickens."

Feeling him nod and wrap his arms around you, you took that as a "yes" and chuckled softly, knowing you weren't gonna leave this spot anytime soon.

But that's okay.

There's no other place you'd rather be. Not even the mines.

#clanask #anonymous #sdv x reader #stardew valley x reader #sdv shane #sdv shane x reader #stardew shane x reader #angst #hurt/comfort

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joces-wrld · 2 months ago

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introducing….. tomboy! & fratboy! chris

tomboy! reader 🕸️

19. confident. “not in pink”. spiderman + any superhero. no set face claim. education major. small hidden tattoos all over her. lowkey highkey can cook. has never, and will never, smoke. speaks whats on her mind. bruno mars + tyler the creator + sza + luke combs. hella piercings: both lobes (upper ones too), right industrial, left cartilage, both helix's, belly button, and her nostril. beanies. silver jewelry. dog person!! scared she isn't feminine enough. hidden hour glass figure. “let’s just assume everyone in here doesn’t like me” - flynn rider

fratboy! chris 🕸️

21. dealer. "dont look at me like that". commitment issues. video games. lowkey fw readers music, but will never admit it. backwards hats. king of rolling joints, can do it with his eyes closed. pepsi. kendrick lamar + travis scott + king von. extremely gushy and soft if he gets too high. can surprisingly draw well. hates labels. lowkey highkey, wants a lip piercing. used to play hockey in high school. 2 numbers; a personal one, and one for 'business' purposes. "i got a bitch that text me she dont got no clothes on" - big sean

how they met ....

it was three weeks after the start of the school year, the air still filled with excitement, however, not for the 21 year old. he was actually pissed off, his frat house had hosted their second party of the year. he had fucked a random girl there and now she had somehow gotten ahold of his personal number, refusing to leave him alone

his mind wandered as he blasted 'Crazy Story' by king von on his airpods, allowing him to forget about the endless messages he had. for now at least

unfortunately, in his music dazed state, chris had actually forgotten to pay attention to his surroundings, ultimately crashing into something, someone.

SLAP!

a stack of papers hits the ground, accompanied by a couple boxes of crayons. 'wonderful' he thinks, 'this day cannot get any better'

"great" he hears, followed by a deep sigh. "sorry man, wasnt looking where i was going" she laughs out, trying to break any tension that may form between the two

chris was planning on ignoring her, not wanting to converse with this rando, when suddenly she looks up at him. "hey asshat, i may have bumped into you, but i apologized, least you can do is pick my crap up"

he smirks, squatting down

he grabs the stack of papers and boxes of crayons, "hello kitty and spiderman coloring sheets, what are you, 5?" he remarks, handing her her things. "nope, but my kids are" she replies, smiling at him, and not just one of those random smiles, a smile you give someone you've known for years, a genuine smile

taking the lollipop out of her mouth with a loud pop, she extends her hand out, "y/n, education major. econ, huh? took that last summer, it actually sucks" she introduces, noticing the book he was carrying. chris flicked her hand away, he didnt do this. he didnt talk to girls, he either, A. fucked them or B. sold weed to them, then left

simple

did she not know who he was? or his reputation? something about her intrigued him, the way she so confidently held him accountable. how she didnt suck up to him, desperate for some dick

as she walked off, adjusting her beanie, he smirked, continuing his way to class, wondering if they'd cross paths again

a/n: HIIII please be nice 🙏�� i literally do not know how to write, but i really wanted to try sum 😜

pls suggest ideas for this pair cs i have no clue what im doing 🙏🏼

—check out my masterlist! for the rest of this series

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo blurb #chris sturniolo x reader #tomboy #sturniolo fic

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eddiessluttywaist · 2 years ago

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as if (part 3)

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES

summary: reader isn’t keen to playing the usual games between her and eddie after how she felt sunday night, and eddie can’t stand losing her attention. PICK WHAT ENDING YOU WANT AFTER.

pairing: bully!mean!perv!eddie munson x perv!fem reader

word count: 8,704 words (9,272 total words with the fluffy ending, 9,516 total words with the angsty ending)

content/warnings: swearing, SMUT MDNI (y/n is 18), bully!eddie, mean!eddie, perv!eddie, bully kink (?), dominating, breeding kink, mocking, teasing, biting, dacryphilia, groping, pet names (doll face, princess), degradation, some embarrassment, yearning, menophilia, angst :(((, feelings :(((, fluff(what? who said that?). i think that’s all pls tell me if i miss anything!

a/n: thank you for all the love :( i’m truly so surprised and grateful and just super flattered so thank you!! i hope i didn’t fuck this up by giving it crap endings sobs. i saw some were interested in a bit of a better look into eddie’s thoughts/feelings so i hope those lil parts are good! i’m considering the occasional blurb in the future about them tho so 👀 OH ALSO!! the past week or so tumblr had a bug on their app that cut off the ends of my posts >:( so I’d appreciate it if you could look back to double check you caught the full ending so you get the proper experience! okay i’m shutting up now!

part one - part two

You weren’t as responsive to his teasing that Monday…or, well… just about the rest of the school week so far, for that matter. You blamed your mood drop on his indifference, and the cramping that you assumed was only from this weekend. You had been sure it was just your cervix making its opinions on Eddie known, but then—after your second sugar pill of the week—you got your period Wednesday night. This culprit seemingly just as likely for that aching in your lower abdomen and back. It was welcome evidence that your birth control was working, but the appreciation for its presence didn’t last long with all the cramping and the bleeding. You hated getting your period, no matter how many older women reminded you of your “connection to Mother Nature” and “the beauty of the womb.” It’s messy and painful and almost always broke out your face.

So no you aren’t playing Eddie’s usual games—instead going silent on him or answering in an empty murmur. Part of you worries it’s going to all build up to one particularly heinous act, but he surprisingly didn’t get worse. He only bothered you with the same old stuff more frequently. By Thursday he’s pestering you constantly with his teasing, and his grabbing, and honestly? Just about every trick in his sick little book which were usually tastefully sprinkled throughout the week.

“So you’re not talking to me? Playing hard to get or somethin’?” He whispers from behind you in the lunch line. You grab a saran-wrapped cookie and put it on your tray.

“What? You on your rag or something?” Eddie scoffs in response to your ever freezing cold shoulder. He’s out in the tundra these past couple of days. You make a face and continue moving through the line.

“Come on… don’t fuck me and forget me, babe. You’ll break this ol’ cynic’s heart and I’ll never recover.” He teases with a wide smile, hand placed over his heart before it drops to settle on the small of your back and gradually travel down to cup your ass. He’s pleasantly surprised that you’re not gently nudging him away like you had the last time he attempted his usual lunchtime groping, but something feels different. He glances down as he flips up your skirt only to reveal small shorts in the same pattern of your dark, plaid skirt. Your worst nightmare is bleeding through a light-colored pair of pants or skirt, so you always wear darker clothes on your period, and you trade skirts for skorts in favor of the added coverage.

“What the fuck is this shit?” He scowls, tugging at one leg of the shorts.

“It’s called a skort. We’ve had this conversation before.” You sigh, thanking the lunch lady as she hands you your tray and eyes the metalhead trailing behind you.

She thinks he resembles an abandoned puppy who grew mean and practiced his bite and his bark just to follow after you with his tail between his legs. If she had any genuine interest in connecting with the student body she fed 5 days out of the week, she might’ve made a playful joke about you having him whipped. But she didn’t care that much.

“I don’t think we have.” He grins, wondering if you even noticed you let yourself talk to him.

“You do it every time I’m on-“ You catch yourself almost admitting you were on your period, which would certainly only pull new harassment from him, so you pretend to correct a simple mistake. “In. Every time I’m in a skort.”

He hums disapprovingly.

“Yeah, well… I…” He trails off as you simply walk away from him to your usual spot in the cafeteria. You don’t bother to stay at his table you two reached just for him to finish making some crude joke before ultimately shooing you away anyway. “Okay… or be a bitch.”

He grumbles that last bit, landing into his usual spot at the head of the table. A few of the other Hellfire members are still staring even when he clearly takes notice.

“Can I help you?” He snaps, everyone who had been staring immediately looking down at their food. He huffs, adjusting his position in the chair to get more comfortable and lets his gaze move over to your table. You’re sat so pretty it’s like your image could actually advertise such a crappy plastic chair. The way your ankles are crossed underneath you, book cracked open on the table with all of your attention on it as you sat with your body leaned into the table. Your food was hardly touched due to a pang of nausea that he was completely unaware of.

“You know if you like her maybe you shouldn’t pick on her so much.”

Eddie grimaces at the comment that’s—in his opinion—beyond a disregard for his rank at this table, icy glare on the curly haired freshman. There are panicked faces and soft muttering around the table showing he isn’t the only one taken aback by this.

“I…” the boy falters, putting the spoonful of pudding he’s about to eat back down. “I just mean if… if you like her. I dunno… you’re kinda mean to her, Eddie.”

He eats his scoop of pudding now, his bold words inspiring the wiry one that always sits next to him. Eddie’s burning glance flits over to him now that he’s speaking, his expression remaining unimpressed with etches of frustration in the shadows of his facial features.

“Yeah, which is actually totally weird cause you’re not like that at all.” The brunet speaks in a rapid ramble like usual. “Like, you took me and Dustin and Lucas under your wing cause we were new and weird and alone and stuff like that—no, I know Lucas has been ditching Hellfire for the jocks, but anyway— you’re always talking back to those asshole jocks—which is totally cool—so I don’t get why you’re not like that with her.”

“I’m sorry, I must be confused.” The man spoke with sarcastic interest, a sinister smile breaking out onto his face. “Are you two talking to me? About something that is, quite frankly, none of your business?”

The two boys look at each other, the nerves shared between them tangible. Eddie raises a brow and tilts his head when they face him again. Still silence. Mike swallows anxiously.

“Well?” He sneers, flicking some of his trail mix at them.

“Sorry, Eddie…” They say in unison as he chews slowly, staring them down. He rolls his eyes as his body slowly relaxes again in his spot and he glances at you again. You were at least breaking off pieces of your cookie now, still reading your book.

“She’s not new or weird or alone anyways. She’s always with the smart kids.” He states, before holding up a hand as his gaze returns to the pair. “Not that I’m inviting you two shitheads to stick your noses in my business.”

The freshmen, along with a few others at the table shift to look over at you. You’re still engrossed in whatever you’re reading and you looked miserable, even if you were enjoying a good book. You look tired.

“Dude, literally no one is interacting with her. There’re the Jacobson twins talking at one end—probably still fighting over what’s the right answer to the equation from algebra class (it’s zero, by the way). Then there’s Richie and Greg from advanced calculus. Some people I don’t know…” Dustin mutters that last part before continuing, “And yes technically speaking there are a few girls sitting with her, but they’re not even talking. They probably don’t even know her.“

Eddie stares him down, the conversation still on you burning away at something inside him. He doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t want to talk about you or how lonely you look. He doesn’t want to talk about inviting you over. And he certainly doesn’t want to talk about how mean he is to you, cause he has no interest in trying to break down the intricacies of the crossover between bullying you and fucking you. Especially to freshmen.

“Just saying.” Dustin finally sighs in defeat, clearly getting no response from the DM sat at the head of the table. “But seriously, tugging on a girl’s pigtails cause you like her is completely grade school.”

Eddie had figured that having sex would change things between you two, but he imagined it changing for the better. Things like fucking you in the janitor’s closet or in the back of his van in the parking lot. Feeling you up between classes. Being so fucking mean to you all day until you were all wet and needy for him by the time that final bell rang.

He certainly didn’t imagine this.

At the start of the school week, Eddie didn’t entirely notice your lack of participation. Just that something felt… off-kilter in your interactions. It had been on Tuesday night that he realized nothing felt right because you weren’t glaring at him or shoving him away or pouting up at him. You didn’t even turn your head when an object was flicked at you, you just kept your eyes on the chalkboard.

Now he isn’t particularly well known for his critical thinking with… well… anything other than music, DND, and—subsequently—the math that came along with both hobbies. And, of course, selling drugs. So it’s somewhat understandable that poor Eds didn’t even realize what caused the imbalance for a whole day or two. Once he realized it though, it only frustrated him further. It irritated him that you weren’t playing the game, and it irritated him that it bothered him so much in the first place.

Why aren’t you snapping back at him? Why are you ignoring him, and if you even do look over: why was it always with a sad glance? Why, when he toyed with your skirt on Monday did you tilt your head to the side and quietly ask him to please leave you alone? When he saw you first thing Monday morning with circles under your eyes that were barely disguised by drug store concealer; Why, when he leaned into you as he passed you in the hall with a quiet “Something keep you up last night?” Did you only give him a passing glance with lips pressed together in what might’ve been an attempt at a small smile just to fall flat with that dull look in your eyes.

Being how he is, his game plan had been to keep bugging you constantly. Wear you down until you were finally glaring or giggling or whining, and everything could be back to the way it was. Maybe you were just suddenly playing hard to get. Being a teasing brat who would eventually have a smirk sneak out so he knew you were toying with him, and he could make you pay for it later. That smirk never quirked up your lip though. You were still such a rainy cloud drifting through the school.

The little twerp got to him at lunch today, too. He wonders now if maybe you were sick of the way he acted, and realized you want deserve someone a little less inclined to pigtail-tugging and a little more open and romantic. But why now? He thought you enjoyed it all. That’s why he wasn’t expelled already. That’s why you fucked him and called him for more. Right? Sitting in his van instead of attending the last class of the day, Eddie rubs his hands over his face and lets out a frustrated groan. He feels something crucial missing in him at the fact that he’d rather pull teeth than drop down his smug and playful demeanor even for a second and show you that he’s yours.

He noticed you were pretty when you were a sophomore, but not much else. Now in your senior year with him, god—you aren’t even pretty. You’re fucking devastating, and he knows his methods of showing affection aren’t something that will stand the test of time. You’ll grow tired and fuck it, he’d be living up to that Munson name if he has to see you with someone else—probably wind up serving time right alongside Pops after leaving some guy in the hospital. So maybe there were tweaks to be had. Even if he’s bitter and reluctant about it. (And did I mention bitter?)

Eddie pulls his hands away from his face at the faint sound of a bell, letting the side of his head fall against the window with a solid thunk as he awaits the crowds of students rushing out of the school.

You’re passing by others on your way out of the building, just as relieved as everyone else to be going home for the day—not that your excitement showed. It’s more of a calm relief to be heading to your room again than everyone else’s bubbly enthusiasm to make plans for the rest of the day. (When they should be getting their assignments done after all it’s not Friday yet, you think, but maybe that’s just because you evidently have no life.)

Making your way through the parking lot, a loud horn makes you jump. Your eyes wild and your heart up in your throat, you look around until you spot Eddie laying on his horn with his tongue partially sticking out off to the side. He lets up the second you lock eyes and laughs.

“Need a ride? Gotta couple of good options.”

You huff, trying to ignore his filthy innuendo and shake your head. He groans, settling his head back against the head rest of his seat while you start walking away.

“What the fuck is your problem? Jesus fucking Christ!”

You keep walking, hearing his car door open and the sound of his sneakers on the pavement. His car buzzes irritably at its door being left open while running, but he doesn’t care. You’re sure he doesn’t care about anything, really. He rests a hand on your shoulder to turn you around.

“’m just not in the mood, Eddie.” You snap the second you’re facing him.

But you’re always in the mood, he wants to argue as if that made a difference right now. He lets out a long breath that puffs out his lips as he decompresses, arm bent up to rub his hand on the back of his neck. It’s evident that he’s not used to this, and doesn’t have a clue how to go about it. You eye him in that moment, waiting for him. Waiting for something that made that ache in your chest dissipate and the hole it leaves be filled with a light warmth. Then you’re ready to give up on waiting for something that clearly wasn’t going to happen when he suddenly dips down and drapes you over his shoulder all in one fluid motion.

“I- Eddie-!“

“I- Eddie- I-” He mimics, clearly out of habit and opens the back door to his van to plop you right on top of a random cushion nestled inside. It looks like it’s just a single couch cushion and you wonder where he got only one. Is it from an old couch that was getting tossed anyways? Did he steal it? Who steals a singular couch cushion from the seat of a sofa? And what was that stain on the corner? You’re shifting away from it as he climbs in after you, the tip of his tongue peeking out of the corner of his lips again until the door is shut and he’s settled against it with a sigh.

“Yoo-hoo.”

“What?”

He scratches his jaw as he looks over at you then points at the stain you were avoiding.

“Yoo-hoo. The drink. That’s what the stain is from.”

“Oh… okay.”

Eddie lets out a heavy sigh, his eyes going wide as he fights the urge to roll them while he stares up at the ceiling of his vehicle, and then he finally speaks up again.

“Why are you being all…” He gestures his hands out in a odd way, flopping them a bit before settling them on his legs again. He sighs, tilting his head down and looking over at you again. “I don’t fucking know… you’re not being fun this week.”

Your nostrils flare and your brow creases with a pulse of rage at his words.

“Oh I’m so sorry that I’m not playing your game, Eddie. For your information, yes—as you said so elegantly before— I’m ‘on my rag’ and don’t exactly feel like dealing with you.”

Despite the tone you’re taking with him, a grin is pulling at his face and a few laughs bubble from his chest that were almost like little amused giggles. God, he missed getting you all worked up.

“What? Never got it before?” He suddenly questions.

“I- What?”

He snickers.

“Your rag. The crimson tide. Never ridden the cotton pony before?” He’s having too much fun with this and your face is getting all hot.

“Cause I kinda doubt it. Y’know…” he gestures to your form, “The idea that you haven’t gone through puberty yet sounds fake to me, sweetheart.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well you’ve never acted like this before so unless this is your first week of Carrie...” He hisses an inhale through his teeth.

“My condolences, but look at it this way: You’re finally a woma- hey!” He’s laughing until he’s dodging the random work boot you toss at him—the sight of him scooting away from the projectile actually getting a giggle from you.

“Those ‘r for the garage, doll. Heavy duty shit, can’t be throwing those.” He chastises as he waves the shoe at you, but there’s a weight that’s lifting from him. He got you to just sit and talk to him, and even made you laugh. Even if you’re biting the inside of your cheek now to try and refrain from giving him the satisfaction of your smile. How are things like this right now? Shouldn’t he be bending you over his knee for not acting the way he wanted you to? Shouldn’t he be angry? Shouldn’t he be making you cry?

“I’ve gotten my period before.” You state simply. Eddie puts the boot down, dropping his head back against the interior of his van as he looks at you expectantly.

“Then what? What’s with the bitching and the ignoring and the crybaby shit?” He asks bluntly, making your brow furrow again.

“And not even the good crybaby shit,” he continues in a softer tone as he makes his way over to you, “Where’s my pouty girl, huh? Where’s my brat?”

My. My. It’s making your head swirl, his words and proximity putting up a good fight against this latest impulse to be cold to him. He’s settled in front of you and pulling you forward by your hips.

“Don’t wanna talk about it…” You murmur because he should know. He should’ve automatically known the second he left your room that he fucked up when he didn’t kiss you.

“No? Do I gotta bully it out of you, baby? Should I keep up with what I’ve been doing or are you gonna keep pissing me off with that silent treatment shit if I do?”

Watching your expression, his hands settled on your hips start to massage his fingertips in small circles against your lower back. A sigh falls from your lips before you can even stop it, melting from his touch. He’s massaging that spot that’s been tied up in knots the past couple of days, and taking care of it perfectly. Just when you think he’s suddenly a completely different person he stops the movements entirely. That familiar pout that he loves pulls at your lower lip, clearly disappointed by the loss of his kneading.

“Gonna tell me?” He coos, tilting his head.

Your lips part then close again, faltering on if you should just tell him. He mimics the motion then your pout before grinning at you again. You stay quiet, a new conflict arising inside your head. Should you just tell him and move forward? Should you let him suffer until he figures it out? He deserves to suffer in your book, but who knows how long it would take for him to realize. The man has failed his senior year twice already.

“No? Okay, doll.” He’s separating himself from you now, moving to a corner of his van to start digging through some random stacks and piles there.

He’s going on about how he’d help if he could, but he guessed that won’t happen now. How if only you’d cut lil’ ol’ him a break. His theatrical and bitter words are coated in a soft tone and playful, exaggerated sighs. He’s having all the fun in the world trying to tease you until you just sigh and admit whatever your major malfunction is. It’s lighthearted in comparison to his usual teasing, but even this starts bringing the tears forward.

You hate that he doesn’t know. That it clearly didn’t mean enough for him to notice. You hate that he pulls you in all smooth and sweet to get you intoxicated on him just for him to laugh over it and leave you alone again. You hate how he’s suddenly making you feel cared for just for him to go away again cause he isn’t getting what he wants. Now you’re desperately trying to hide the fact that you’re crying as all of your feelings and aches and pains of this week rush through you.

Sure, he’s seen you cry before but it was never like this. It was teary eyes from frustration or, recently, the occasional sob from how good he made you feel. It’s never been breaking down after a hard week. It’s never sobbing because after all this time the two of you finally cracked, and you’re scared you’re the only one increasingly enchanted every passing second since that first kiss. It was never hiccuping sobs that you were doing your best to push down. Your face is burning, your sight blurry even though tears kept rolling down your cheeks. It’s like there’s a never ending supply to stream down your face and still keep your vision bleary.

“Jus’ sayin’ we could be doing something way more fun right no…w…” He trails off once he finally looks over at you.

He’s holding an unopened pack of cigarettes he had been looking for in his typical mess and pulling out his lighter, but now all his focus is on the way you’re sniffling and shaking. You’re still sat on that cushion, knees up and a hand settled over your mouth with your head turned away from him. A heart-wrenching sob just barely sneaks its way out before you choke it back down. Little huffs are escaping you in a desperate attempt to breathe without letting your need to wail break free. It feels like your lungs are on fire.

“Y/N…” Eddie says in a tender voice that you didn’t think he was even capable of. You shake your head.

“Y/n c’mon…” He tries again with a small, nervous laugh. Nervous you were serious. Nervous that he really made you so upset. Nervous to really show that he cares if he did.

“It’s okay, really-“ Your voice is higher than usual, another heavy breath puffing out before you try to drag it in again just to end up whimpering as another wave of sadness comes over you and you’re too overwhelmed to hold it in. You stay facing away from him as you cry and hiccup, trying to get it back under control.

“I just- it’s stupid, it’s n-ot that big of a deal.”

For Eddie, making you cry is all about the glossy eyes and pouty lips as you stare up at him defiantly or a sign that you need him to quit playing games and fuck you. It’s never been this… brutal. Panic continues to rise in his system, and he’s unsure of how to handle the situation. Once upon a time, he thought he treated you the way that he did because some sadistic part of him liked to always make you hurt, but it was becoming evident that he just liked the play. The banter. The shoving and the glaring and pouting and the wandering eyes. When he acted the way he always did and you didn’t respond or did so in a quiet plea for him to really stop or really cried—it made his stomach clench. The more he tried to keep it up this week the more he realized that when you weren’t playing along he just… he was just mean. Really mean. Not “you’re so awful, just fuck me already” mean, but “you’re making me miserable” mean. And fuck if he didn’t hate the way that felt.

“Is it really that bad?” He murmurs, partially surprised by his own voice when it sounded this gentle. The thin plastic around his cigarettes crinkle under his nervous hands. And he thought he needed a smoke before. “Did I hurt you? Or-or somethin’? Do you need to go to a doctor?”

“No.” You weep, still refusing to look at him and it’s killing him even if a part of him knows he would crumble if he sees how you look right now. God, he hated this. The vulnerability of caring openly and to this extent, but what else could he do? Double down on his usual behavior and kick you while you were already so down you might as well have been sinking into the pavement?

“Y/N, please-“ He tries again and you crack completely.

“It’s just not fair because I thought I wanted this, but it’s to-oo hard. You don’t care enough to stick around. Y-You don’t check in with me. You’ve pushed me around for the past two years and I’m an idiot who thought it was all lighthe-hearted deep down, a-and that you wanted me too.”

You break down into tears again until you put yourself back together just enough so it’s only the constant sniffling and your voice trembling that’s interrupting you. All Eddie can do is stare at you with big brown eyes like saucers while you babble, his brow frowning as he anxiously picks at his fingernails and the skin around them.

“A-And of course I got my fucking period cause why wouldn’t I? Cause why would I catch a break? N-N my body aches and I’m so tired and you… you couldn’t… you didn’t…”

“What?” He’s shuffling a bit closer now, lowering his face like he always did to catch your attention. He was right that seeing your face like this would cave him in, and he wishes he could be dropped into a black hole. He knew he deserved it. At the sight of your current state, he was pulling that smoke he already had his fingertips on and placing it between his lips. He lights it and inhales deeply before letting his hand drop down, cig between his fore and middle fingers, ring finger toying with a tear in his jeans.

“You…” You let out a breath before dropping your gaze to your hands in your lap, tears still slipping down your cheeks and over your jaw to wet your neck and dampen the collar of your top or drop down and land on that skort he hated. “You wouldn’t even kiss me on Sunday…”

You sound horribly deflated at the admission, and his eyes flicker all over your features before the smallest twitches of the corners of his lips start to tug them up even though his eyes hold a sad sort of infatuation within them.

“You kissed me on Friday, but not once on Sunday. And you didn’t even seem to care…” You mumble, glancing over at him once and then twice when you notice the curve of his lips. Your eyes burn with a potential for new tears. “Are you fucking smiling?”

“No—no, well, yeah. Not like that.” He huffs out an anxious laugh. “I just… you ignored me… cause I didn’t give you a kiss..?”

You scoff, lips parted and gaze furious. He is unbelievable.

“Among other things! I-I… ugh! You’re infuriating!” You announce and his brows shoot up, grin widening with interest and he brings his cigarette back to his lips.

“You… you make fun of me constantly. You fuck me and finish in me and don’t even spend time with me after. The least you can do is kiss me. Or… or…” You huff, which was becoming a theme today.

He can’t help but find you cute when you’re angry. You remind him of that temperamental pixie in that old animated Peter Pan film from the ‘50s. He used to babysit a young girl in the trailer park who watched it constantly (much to his chagrin).

“Or you don’t get to have me anymore.” You conclude, and he just keeps staring at you with wild eyes as he smokes.

Your anxieties peak and a voice in your head is screaming to get out of the damn van, even when he’s just casually puffing on a cigarette without a hint of irritation on his face. Eddie lets the cig stick to his bottom lip as his hands find your form to pull you closer to him. His right hand raises to place the smoke between his middle and forefinger, and remove it from his lips. His left hand moves to hook his thumb on your lower lip and part your mouth for him to plant an open-mouthed kiss on you as his smoke floats around you and in your mouth, his tongue hot on yours. The pamphlets your parents gave you about the dangers of cigarettes popped up in your mind as his smoke fills you. The statistics and pictures of smoker lungs mean nothing to you as he kisses you like this.

You’re more than just warming up to the smell you usually couldn’t stand, and you find yourself back where you were on Friday. Willing to take whatever he gives you. As long as he kept kissing you like this. As long as he kisses you like he plans on making you his wife while he fucks you like he’s your high school bully. The kiss is all tongues and muffled moans, your arms wrapping around his neck. You chase after his lips when he finally starts pulling away. An involuntary whimper slid from you as you look at him with heavy eyelids.

“If you want something…” He trails off in a whisper, keeping his half-lidded eyes on you even as he reaches over to tap off ash into a cheap plastic tray. His thumb and pointer finger pinch your chin to keep your focus on him. “You ask, okay? Pretty standard rules, princess.”

“But…”

“But now,” He cuts you off with a soft sigh, head tilting as he looks at you. The eye contact is becoming so intense it’s burning through you. “Now I know this is important for you, ‘kay?”

You’re surprised by this. Honestly you’re shocked by every kindness and touch of patience he provided you today. You would have never guessed Eddie Munson is even capable of such a thing. You nod with your gaze retreating downwards, toying with your hands and he chases after your stare with a tilt of his head to try and get you to look at him again, brows raised up.

“Doll?”

You wipe at the cooling streaks of tears on one cheek with your shoulder then finally look up again, and nod with more confidence this time.

“And…” He looks almost like he’s in pain for a moment before he finally continues “‘m sorry, okay?”

“…Really?” You murmur, eyes wide with shock.

“Yeah.” He huffs out a laugh. “Don’t act so surprised. I’m capable of an apology, given the right circumstances.”

You eye him, silent with hesitation and shock.

“‘N the right girl.” He murmurs with a soft voice even though he had that shit-eating grin on his face. Why is it always so charming? It’s smug and teasing, but always so endearing.

You don’t know what else to do so you just kiss him. You pull him in by his shoulders and kiss him. You kiss him like you could devour him, body and soul. His arms circle around your waist after leaving that partly-smoked cigarette in the cheap ash tray and drags you closer all while kissing you back. He’s leaning down to place you on the scratchy carpeting and hover over you. Any break for air is short-lived before you’re back on each other. Your hands tangle in the messy curls draping around your head, tugging to pull a groan from him.

“Fuck…” He sighs into the kiss, dropping his body down to put more of his weight on you. He parts from your lips despite your whiny protests and presses kisses and nips to your jaw as he works his way to your neck. His arms unfurl from around your waist so his hands can settle on your hips and let his thumbs massage into your skin. You’re pawing at his vest as he works on leaving a love bite on your pulse point below your ear, and—surprisingly—he moves away to shake the jacket-vest combo off and drop it beside you. You eye the fit of his t-shirt and it makes your mind fog up.

All your focus is on the shape of his tummy against the fabric. The way the material sticks to him and shows all the harsh angles of his toned chest. The fact that he had cut off the bottom hem of his top and when he moves the right way you can see that trail of hair on his lower stomach. The shape of his arms under the sleeves. Does he work out? Considering his lack of discipline, you couldn’t imagine him having an exercise regimen, but dear god. His arms weren’t absurdly cut, but they were still thick with enough muscle that his sleeves seem a little tight. You can see the veins of his forearms and the blown out ink on his skin. When he’s on top of you again, sucking on your neck, you let your hands drag over his back and sneak underneath his shirt. The heat of his skin and the moving musculature alone making your toes curl. You’re happy to have him on you, but you wanted that damn shirt off too. You’re grasping at the fabric and pulling it up, gasping when he bites on your neck for doing so.

“Take that shit off-“ You huff, making a smile tug at his lips.

“Using my lines now, doll?” He purrs once he’s raised up again and grasping behind his head to pull his shirt over it. You can’t even think of a smart reply, your brain short circuiting at the sight of his naked torso. Even though you enjoy it, you never really understood his urge to bite. You sure do now. You shift from laying on your back to sit up in front of him while he remains raised up on his knees. Your hands slide up his stomach, feeling the goosebumps that raise in the wake of your cold fingertips. He’s still for once and you bring your hands back down to pull on his belt, fighting against the stiff leather to slide it out of the buckle.

You’ve never given head before, mainly because the only time there was an opportunity it had been with a guy you didn’t even like that much who kept trying to push your head down while you were kissing; but you felt feverish with thoughts of Eddie’s dick down your throat. While rushing to go down on him was the last thing you had on your mind at the start of your day, after he was so sweet on you, you were desperate to taste him.

Eddie’s breath is staggered as he watches you undo his jeans, his pupils all blown out. He can’t even count how many times he’s fantasized about those lips wrapped around his cock, but he knew after everything that he didn’t deserve to go first. Fuck, he wanted to, but he doesn’t deserve it. Belt open and slack and jeans undone, he grabs your hands to pin them over your head once you were pushed back onto the floor and he leans down to kiss you. One hand holds the side of your face and the other is pulling the zipper on your hip down, muttering a you first against your lips.

Before tugging at your skirt skort, Eddie pulled away again to lift your shirt off. He grew irritable for a moment with the long sleeves that fought him, tossing it aside harshly with a grumble that made you giggle. That gentle laugh was the only thing that lightened his mood again and encouraged a small smile before he continued. He kisses down your body, giving you the occasional bite. There are little things that he does along the way that make parts of you feel beautiful—parts that you either don’t pay attention to or even aren’t fond of. It’s an odd thing considering how mean he always is, but he seems to show a devotion to each and every inch of your skin that wouldn’t occur to most men. The way his hands slide along your sides as he makes his way down your chest, giving you the occasional squeeze. The way his arms slip around your midsection and bring you closer to his face with a press to the small of your back, smothering his face between your breasts still covered by a flimsy, lace bra—breathing in the scent of your skin. The way his hold relaxes as he continues down, just to squeeze you to him again when he finds a new spot he wants to smother himself in. One side of your tummy underneath your ribs. The slight rise of your lower abdomen beneath your belly button. Your hip bones.

You’re so drunk on his touch at first that it doesn’t even occur to you where this is leading until he’s already face-to-face with the center of your underwear.

“E-Eddie- no-“ You squeak out suddenly. “Not that.”

He lifts his head to eye you curiously and with surprise at the denial of getting head, lips parted in a question that you interrupt.

“I’m on my period, remember?”

Eddie half-jerks his shoulder up in a careless shrug. “Yeah, I know. So?”

“It’s just… it’s so messy and bloody. I wouldn’t even want you to eat me out right now if I was still mad at you.”

“Doll, c’mon…” He groans while pressing his face into your inner thigh—not to try and convince you to give consent cause he doesn’t care about this boundary, but rather to show how badly he wants to do this. That he doesn’t care about the mess and he doesn’t think it’s gross, in fact he found it hot. If you were sitting in his bed or in his passenger seat and got your period, his perv ass probably wouldn’t even try to remove the stain.

“I want to.” He insists, pulling away again to look up at you. “I think it would be so fucking hot. It’ll help the pain, princess.”

You consider the offer for a moment, wondering if he’s right. If he could make you feel so good that he’d reach and clear out those aches and pains that Tylenol couldn’t even touch. You still shake your head, the thought of all that blood on his tongue and the smell in his nostrils making you nervous and embarrassed. He groans again and dramatically flops into your stomach to hide his face.

“Not with your mouth.” You clarify, cheeks all rosy.

At that, he finally raises his head with a raised brow and his bangs all messy.

“Oh yeah?”

He’s sitting up now, settling back against folded legs as he raises your legs one by one to take your shoes off and toss them randomly. You tilt your head to watch one sneaker smack the back of the passenger seat, then look to the side to watch your second sneaker smack into the interior with a vibrating clunk. After taking off your shoes, your ankles are lightly settled on his shoulders and he has his hands wrapped around your calves as he tilts his head to press a kiss to the inside of one ankle. Then he’s moving to bite the inside of the opposite knee.

After that, he skips right back to your lips, your legs parted to settle on either side of him now. Eddie hooks his fingertips into the band of your underwear and pulls them down, having to begrudgingly separate enough so you can bend your knees up to your chest while he tugs them off your legs. He’s about to casually pull on the string of your tampon when you shake your head quickly and clasp your hand over your entrance.

“I’ll- I’ll do it.” You murmur and he’s (once again) groaning irritably.

He wishes you wouldn’t be so sheepish about it. He can understand the experience of your period not being the most comfortable thing in the world, but he doesn’t know what he has to do to show that he likes it. That he wants to go down on you and wipe that mess off of his face with pride, therefore not needing to look away at your insistence while you take out your tampon. Maybe it’s his pride in being a freak. Maybe it’s a slight twinge of superiority, knowing that he was one of the few guys that would even offer in the first place. Maybe it’s that breeding kink flaring up at what he saw as a glaring reminder that you could possibly get pregnant with his kid. Maybe it’s just the fact that it’s you. But he lets you do it yourself, holding in his usual attitude for the sake of your sensitivity for once, then leaning back down to kiss you the second you give the okay.

The kiss doesn’t have as much of an apologetic gentleness as the others, but it was passionate and it was hot. The heavy breathing and groping and spit; the taste of cigarettes and mint; the scratch of slight stubble and the bump of his nose against yours. Eddie shot a hand out to feel for his jacket which he promptly crams under your tailbone to raise your hips, then dips his thumbs in the band of his exposed boxers to pull his pants and boxers down. (He didn’t take them off completely per usual, but you took getting him shirtless as your win).

Eddie pulls away just enough to wrap his hand around his cock, giving it a few good tugs before leading it to your entrance. He keeps an eye on your expression, plunging into you the moment his tip slid in. The few times he’s fucked you, you were always so messy and wet and warm, but this was enough to sign his soul away. You were soaked with arousal and blood as expected, but he wasn’t prepared for how much puffier you are like this. And so fucking hot. You mewl at the sensation, a dull ache in your lower abdomen at the start, but it’s slowly dissipating. Maybe it’s the association between blood and pain, and menstruation and pain, but you genuinely thought this would hurt more than usual—you certainly weren’t betting on your heightened sensitivity. Even that first stroke slipping into you lit up your nerves.

“‘S good, right?” He asks with a cocky grin, left hand wrapped around your right thigh and his right hand sliding over your tummy and slowly massaging the area.

You almost don’t want to admit it, but you do with a nod and pouty lips that have pathetic little whimpers slipping past them. Eddie slides back out a couple inches then pushes back into you, your toes curling as a bit of blood and arousal gushes and sputters out around his base. You curse under your breath, encouraging him to proceed. He’s uncharacteristically tender, and while seeing his sweet side today was a pleasant surprise—you just wanted him to fuck you.

“Eddie-“ You breathe out.

“Hm?”

“Please just fuck me.”

His grin is devilish and his gaze is fiery. He snaps his hips forward once without wasting a second, threatening to making your eyes roll back.

“Yeah?” He leans down, his voice a condescending whisper as he stays infuriatingly still while this deep. “My baby come cryin’ cause ‘m too mean? But she still wants me to bully her little pussy?”

You whine and nod your head, his following thrusts nearly punching the breath out of your lungs. His hand rests over your pubic bone and starts rubbing at your clit as he fucks into you. Your head lolls back into the carpeting, breasts bouncing with his efforts.

“Such a good fucking slut for me. This pussy all mine?”

“Uh huh-“ You speak in a whiny moan, hips weakly pushing forward and he takes the hint.

Eddie pulls you forward by your hips and holds you close to him as he gives you breathtakingly shallow thrusts. Your eyes begin to water from the way he’s moving inside you and his thumb is brushing on your clit. His other hand parts from your hip to grip onto the center of your bra, pulling it down to free your breasts and to keep a steady grip on you by the fabric clasped around your chest.

“Eddie-” You sob, and an earth-shattering sense of relief blows through him, leaving him temporarily wrecked before settling again like a gust of wind pushing up bird feathers before they smooth out again. Finally seeing those globs of tears in your eyes in the way he loves brought that balance back, and he’s doubling his efforts. Your lips part and your back arches up off of the carpet of his van, those wet streaks leading from your eyes back into your hair just like they were on Friday.

You’re counting your blessings that you aren’t back in your bed with your parents down the hall during your make up session because even the fear of being caught wouldn’t have been able to stop the moan that gasps from your lungs when you cum around him. All the tension and hormones and yearning of this week mixing with the overpowering pleasure he’s giving you, all culminating to this very moment and making you see stars. You feel like you’ve been temporarily shoved under water, all of the sounds around you muffling—even the sound of your own breathing. Just as you’re floating back up to the surface, Eddie’s leaning down to place his lips on yours. His large hands cover both sides of your face as he’s kissing you like he means it, only letting his hands part from your cheeks to wrap around your midsection and scoop you up while he sits back.

“Fuck-” You breathe out, hands settling to cradle the back of his head. You’re sure you look as disheveled as you feel. He thinks you look incredible.

“I know right?” He teases, all smug even in this quieter tone of voice and he laughs when you smack at his arm.

He eyes you from where his face is level with your chest, watching the playful irritation melt from your expression as he starts thrusting up into you. You’re almost too overstimulated from him moving so close to your orgasm that was still pulsing in the aftershock, but fuck if this doesn’t feel too good to pause even for a moment. Eddie wraps his arms around you to finally unclasp your bra and fling it towards the front of his van, metal hooks clinking against the hard surface of his dashboard. His hands smooth over your back, groaning against your skin as he smothers himself between your breasts again, fucking up into you. You start bouncing on top of him to meet his thrusts, whimpering quietly at the fluttering still rippling through your walls. You still have that palpable pulse inside you, squeezing around him and making it incredibly difficult to not cum before he can get you to let go at least one more time.

“C’n you cum for me, doll? Gimme one more?” He finally separates from your chest to look up at you again and while you were always the one looking fucked out, when you look at him you can’t help but feel like you’re seeing him the same way. A faint shine to his doe eyes glossed over with lust, that rosy tint to his cheeks, and the swell of his pink lips. You nod, but your hips buck in disagreement when his touch is back on your clit. It’s admittedly too soon, your eyes burning with prickling tears as the pleasure jolts through you like shocks of electricity rather than rolling waves—but you certainly weren’t going to ask him to stop.

You gasp out his name, fingers gripping the hair all damp with perspiration at the nape of his neck. You feel like you’re vibrating and the cramping in your stomach nearly makes you break and ask him to stop nudging at that sensitive bud. Your nails dig into the back of his neck, hearing him groan against your skin, feeling his hot breath on your chest. The two of you are moving like the universe would simply unravel if you stopped—as if it isn’t already unraveling in this moment.

“Oh my god-“ You moan and Eddie’s sinking his teeth into your breast—partly to punctuate his claim, partly to muffle his own sounds as he unloads inside of you.

You’re trembling in his lap with soft sobs in the aftershock of probably the most heart-stopping, all-consuming orgasm you’ve ever experienced. Even the slightest touch to your flushed skin sent shocks throughout your nerves and made you cry out, so Eddie stays still.

When both of your hearing is clear again, and you swallow to bring some moisture back to your throat—you let out a small laugh. It isn’t malicious or mocking. It rose up out of pure joy and relief and (honestly) a bit of surprise at everything that’s happened. And it all happened so quickly, you aren’t sure if your memory was able to keep up. God, you hoped it was. You want to relive it every time you close your eyes at night.

Eddie’s licking his lips and pulling back to look at you, a few laughs of his own bubbling up. Like always, he isn’t quick to pull out, but he does set you back down onto the carpet and press a few kisses to your jaw. His hands are pressed into the floor on either side of your head, pulling up his upper body to look down at you. Your hair is messy around your face, and streaks of mascara are all muddled around your eyes and down your cheeks. He put all of his weight on one arm to allow his other hand to raise up and swipe at those black streaks with his thumb before settling back down to kiss you, one arm still pressed up and bent at the elbow and the other settling his forearm on the rug.

The kiss is slower, but still sloppy with exhaustion. He pulls back one more time just to smile down at your face and ends up right back to kissing you seconds later.

The sun is setting in Hawkins and the two of you are all over each other until you realize how late it had gotten and your lips might as well have been ready to fall off. But even when you’re dropped off at home with excuses ready, he still climbed in through that bedroom window to keep kissing you once everyone in the house retired for the night.

After all, you finally left it unlocked and he couldn’t stand another week out in the cold.

Eddie never did work up the nerve to properly ask you what you meant by that blunt reply that one Autumn day... ↓

CLICK ON YOUR ENDING OF CHOICE:

fluffy ❤️

angsty 💔

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penvisions · 6 months ago

Text

zest {chapter 3}

Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Professor! Reader (formally known as Bartender! Reader)

Summary: Your time away with Joel starts now and he makes you feel all kinds of things.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: canon typical violence (fleeting), canon typical language, canon typical angst, rude people, offensive behavior, body shaming, fat shaming, reader gets shoved one (1) time, reader defends herself, brief misogyny, feral joel, joel beats the crap out of someone, joel goes into protective mode, threatening words, worldview of pregnangy being a negative thing, fat shaming, body shaming, reader is canonically mid-size, illusions to smut, adult content, pet names (darling, baby, love), the term slut used affectionately, some mild spice, flirting, they're insufferable your honor. um i think those are all the major ones pls let me know if i need to add more!

REMINDER: this is a sequel series, the previous series can be found here {garnish}

A/N: hi y'all, it's been a whirlwind lately! been trying to figure out the flow of this and i think i was maybe attempting to force this chapter to be more than this and it just wasn't working + made me frustrated. but you know what? not every chapter has to be massively 3k+, it can just be what feels and flows right, so here y'all go. i hope you enjoy these two as much as i do

ao3 link || series masterlist || joel miller masterlist || ko-fi

He's been quiet since leaving the museum, something he had surprised you with a flyer for. He had picked it up in the lobby, had done some research online as he mumbled about some certain paintings, he thought you’d like that were on display, Ellie’s influence strong in his words. His desire to be a good provider and make this trip something to remember. Not that that was too hard, any time spent with Joel was good time, from easy jokes to teasing banter, soft moments as you both reveled in the life you two were leading, the life you two were creating.

Where he had let you guide him from countless exhibits to plentiful ornately framed paintings with a hand clasped around his own. He had seemed engaged enough, eyes alight as you turned to him with wide smiles and small giggles of excitement at the more interesting pieces. It had turned into a little game of 'weirdest little guy' where you each pointed to people and animals in the backgrounds and declared, 'it's you'. He had been the first to start it, by pointing out a woman dressed from head to toe in a tavern maids outfit brandishing a large knife. She had been shouting, her brow heavy and her expression heated.

You had followed his lead by pointing to a rather disgruntled lumberjack in the back of depicting a wintery landscape with a cabin. Though the man impressed in ink had been bald and rather terrified of the approaching bear.

From cats with too human faces, to frogs that looked stunned, to the most bruised or oddly shaded piece of fruit in a bunch or bowl, it had occupied you both throughout the whole building, through everything there was to see. He had brandished a newer, shinier credit card at the gift shop. allowing you the treat of stickers and a coffee mug you had cooed and awed over. But you knew it was the little onesie with colorful peach you had said was him printed on the front.

"To commemorate our first outing as a little unit." You felt so light, so free. Hormones letting you just be yourself at the moment, even if you had to stop to pee quite often. You had said so at the register, the clerk asking after your meaning behind picking it out. Your hands cradling your growing belly as you did so, delighting in the little kicks you had felt stir up as you stood in front of particular pieces. Stirring up at the combined laughter between you and Joel, so much so that you had gotten hushed from a security guard that made it even harder to cut it out. You're picturing the mirth and careful smile on his face even as he held a finger to his mouth in a motion to be quiet, chest rumbling with laughter even as he did so.

But now he was quiet beside you, as he guided the truck into a spot of a rapidly filling parking lot. He's not in a bad mood, per se, but you can sense he's quieted over something in his mind.

"Did- did you enjoy the museum?" You feel silly, like an awkward interloper that first day you had walked in for a first shift at the restaurant. Unaware of how things operated, hesitant to ask where to put your bag or where to get a clean apron from since you hadn't been able to locate yours. Like you had that morning you had woken up to him in your apartment, having slept on the couch after making sure you got home safely. The conversation that had followed, the uncertainty, the almost reproachful way you had asked him what was going on with him, with you, between you both. You feel the same slightly tense and on edge energy around him now as you did back then, when he gave you an impromptu tour of the space and then left you with paperwork to fill out.

You have no clue why perhaps it's the default to being out of town with him. Like there are parts of you he's yet to see and would caste judgement on. Though you know the worst he would do is tease you over something as benign at the way you idle on in the bathroom or fawn over street cats for far too long with a soft, silly coo or the places you tend to pick for coffee being on the extravagant side.

He thought over his answer, guiding the truck into the parking lot of a coffee house. He had said he would turn a blind eye to whatever decaf drinks you decided to indulge in while out of town. The coffee shop you had seen online garnering your attention and he memorized the drive from the museum.

He’s getting out of the truck, rounding the hood and opening the door as he speaks.

"Not really my cup of tea, but it's yours, darlin'. Do anythin' to spend time with ya and I figured this would light you up like a christmas tree." He's smiling softly at you now, his lips looking perfectly kissable beneath his thick moustache and trimmed facial hair. Face shifting from introspective to present, returning to you and feeding off your nervousness in a way you knew he hoped would settle it.

"I do ramble a lot about stuff from my studies, huh." You can't help the feeling of adoration that floods heat in your face, almost like you've got a schoolgirl crush on the man beside you, despite the ring on your finger and the bump of your belly. His hands are warm on you as they help to steady your movements out of the passenger seat, the tall cab a little daunting and the worry of falling in the forefront of your mind. You were being so cautious, words of failed pregnancies your step mother had cited for the deterioration of your parents relationship.

"Yeah, but I listen to every word even if I don't understand it all." He's brushing those delectable lips against the apple of your cheek. "Listen to ya ramable all day, even if it's about nothin'."

"You're smart too, Joel." Insistent words that are swept away with a brush of his hand over your shoulder. But you can see the way his ears tinge pink at the tops, he's smitten at the idea of you thinking so, even if he doesn't himself.

"Not the same way you are, darlin'. Got math and science smarts, practical. You got the artsy smarts, fun and entertaining. Same as Ellie."

"You and Sarah, me and Ellie. We all balance each other out." You lean up into his space, determined for him to hear the good things you have to say about him. He's a good man, just a little rough around the edges. And he was yours.

"We do, don't we. Perfect little family, all for you." He meets you halfway, pressing his lips to yours and stirring butterflies in your ribcage. "You complete us, sabrosa. Been waitin' for you my entire life."

"I've been searching for you my entire life, I just didn't know it, Mr. Miller." His eyes are hooded as he takes in the sight of you so close, pressed to him and held tight by his arms around your waist, your own around his shoulders.

"Glad to have been found, Mrs. Miller." Another kiss, little whimpers telling him exactly how you feel about the confession, the truth of his words that he had tumbled over in his mind every day you were apart. You were his and you were back in his life where you belonged.

It's a little loud, the establishment crowded around the lunch hour. But it's the comforting scent of roasting coffee and the lingering scent of Joel’s cologne on the front of his shirt as he holds you to his chest with his hands around your ribs. Sighing, you look over the menu wanting for each and every interesting flavor combination. But you know you get one today, that’s what you’d limited yourself too because decaf was only so much better than regular espresso. There was no true way to roast out every last bit of caffeine even if the doctor had also agreed a few indulges throughout the pregnancy wouldn’t cause any harm.

“What’re you gonna get?” Joel’s fingers tap lightly at your stomach, the little kicks still going and endlessly entertaining him. Small taps elicited responses more times than not, something you were sure you would never tire of. The feeling of the small being growing inside of you, already so enamored with Joel softening something deep inside of you.

“I think maybe one of macadamia combination ones. Sounds yummy.”

“You know what else sounds…yummy?” His nose is a distraction as it brushes along the back of your head, almost near your ear as he leans closer to it and rumbles his taunting words.

“Joel Miller, if you do anything that prevents me from enjoying my coffee, I swear-“

“Relax, darlin’.” He nips at the top of your ear, causing you to snort at the tickling sensation. “Not gonna come between you and your coffee. Just lettin’ you know where my mind is at.”

“Slut.” You smirk to yourself as he freezes momentarily, allowing you to step out of his hold and toward the counter. You order the macadamia and white chocolate latte, hot and decaf. When asked if that was all for the order, you turn to find Joel closing the gap of a few feet with a smirk of his own.

“I’ll take a blended mocha chip, medium please.” You catch his eyes as he glances at you out of the corner of his own. “Gonna get you back for that, pretty girl.”

“What?” It’s kinda true.” A tongue is stuck out and his eyes dilate every so slightly as he presses the same shiny black credit card to the reader. Never once breaking the contact.

“Then what do you call someone who nearly had me pulling over because she couldn’t keep her mouth to herself on a four hour drive?” He questions lowly as he steps away from the register, wallet going back into the butt pocket of his pants.

“Your fiancé.” You smile sweetly at him, an eyebrow raised in a silent challenge. His chuckle is a low vibration against your shoulder as he shuffles you toward the pickup end of the counter. He’s filthy, but so are you. There’s no denying it, even in jest. That part of your relationship had gotten off to a rocky start but once it had kicked off, damn if that wasn’t something you two were committed to no matter what. The physical attraction so strong, the desire for each other never waning, it’s what started this in the first place and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You’re too right, perfect match.” Lips curled up in matching smile, you wonder if his heart skips beats and his stomach flips just like yours. Later you find out exactly what you to do him, when he grunts it into your ear as he fills you from behind.

It happens when you’re waiting at the end of the counter for pick up, Joel having run off to the restroom.

“Move your fat ass, tryin’ to get up to the drinks.” You’re shoved harshly with an elbow before the words even register. Your balance sways and your hair tousles to cover your face as you try to reach a hand out to catch yourself on the counter top, but your nails don’t gain any purchase. You collapse hard on the floor. Your palms sting as you try to prevent from landing flat, worry taking over as you do your best to avoid any pressure or damage to your middle. The guy is grumbling as he watches, the remnants of his coffee sloshed around the ceramic and splashed onto his crips white dress shirt.

“Sabrosa!”

Before you could even blink, Joel is right there helping you back up to your feet, a comforting hand on your stomach and on your shoulder as he looks you over. His full lips are a thin line, the muscle in his jaw jumping as he grinds his teeth, but you know it isn’t aimed at you. At your small nod and tight-lipped smile, his hands fall from you and your turn with your arm crooked back. The crack of your fist on the guy’s jaw breaks the jovial atmosphere and everything goes silent as he falls hard on his ass. The ceramic shatters and the remnants of his latte fly into the air.

“Fuckin’ bitch!”

“You assault my girl and didn’t expect anything to happen?” Joel demands angrily as he partially shields you with his own body, unsure if the man will retaliate. He’d gladly let you get in a hit, but you know he’d be damned if someone laid a hand on you. You’d seen it firsthand before, more than once. You’re your own person, as you’ve proven time and time again. Something he rather enjoyed about you, something you hoped he would continue to find endearing. Even as your attitude flared sometimes.

“She was in the way, it was barely a little shove!”

“You steamrolled me, asshole!” You step out from behind Joel a little, anger flaring and temper coming to bat. It was bad enough you had nearly fallen completely in on yourself but to then be brushed off and told it was nothing? You weren’t about to take it with a forced, polite smile and a feeling of guilt for not having handled the situation better later on in the evening.

“She’s pregnant, you fuckin’ idiot!” Joel roars, one of his boots coming down unnervingly close to the guy’s hand as he sets it flat to try and get back up. Lips frowning part to argue, but loud footsteps of workers rushing off to grab a manager cut him off. “You could’ve hurt her or my child with your reckless behavior!”

“Joel-“ You try to pull at his forearm, urging him to calm down. The veins showing in his skin and you can’t help the drag of your eyes across the length of them. Your stomach flips, body and mind reacting to the way he’s standing tall in front of you, ready to defend. It’s making your body hum, the way he’s so willing, so quick to protect. His instincts appealing to the most base part of your brain, your own reacting to them in a way that is utterly and completely primal.

“You knocked up the fat chick and you’re upset at me? Man, you’re in need of something stronger than coffee.” He’s trying to get back up, but Joel’s closing in on him.

“You ever talk about a woman that way again and I will end you!” Joel’s shouting as he allows you to pull him back, his chest heaving and his frizzy curls in disarray. His arm is putty in your hands, thick fingers tangling with yours in a comforting move even as his attention is focused on the man still on the ground.

“I think it’s best if you pick yourself up and leave, sir.” A large man in a plain black outfit approached, his hands on his hips. You don’t bother to respond to him, instead tugging Joel with you as you begin to walk toward the door.

“C’mon Joel, let’s just go too. I want to leave.”

“There’s no need for that, you two are welcome to stay.” The guy who you assume is the manager looks up at you as he crouches down to take the still fuming and arguing man. His polite but genuine smile falls as he hoists the man up and begins to walk him to the door. “We don’t tolerate hateful behavior here, you’re banned.”

“This is bullshit!” His shirt gets ruffled, his outfit wrinkling as he’s manhandled out across the floor. You jump as a hand gently brushed your shoulder, causing you to tense your hand around Joel’s and twirl to the left. Your confusion and slight worry eases when you see it was the barista that had taken your order.

“You’re drinks are ready, love. Are you okay?” Her smile is soft, the drinks offered to you. “That was quite a fall, do you need any water or want to sit down to catch your breath?”

You shake your head slowly, not wanting to remain in the café even if things were turning around and the atmosphere had gone back to what it was when you first entered. The music is playing softly again, though you’re sure it had never gone out, never actually cut to silence anywhere except for in your awareness.

Joel only turns to face her once the offensive man is shoved out the door. Your hand leaves Joel’s to reach for the do go cups, the warmth of the freshly made drinks sinking into your palms and calming you after the tense ordeal. The barista nods to Joel, her eyes wide and roving. You feel jealously wake up inside you as she takes his form in, even with you right beside him. The signs of your devotion to each other clear, from the defense he had taken for you to the way he’s surveying the café for any other signs of trouble. She’s holding out a small bag, her face visibly flushed when his fingers graze hers to accept it.

“We’ve also refunded your transaction, sir. And included a few things from the pastry case for the trouble.” Her hands are clasped in front of her now, the apron over her front marred with dried foam from steamed milk and espresso grounds. She’s pretty, she’s skinny. You can’t help the insecurity that bubbles up, she’s young and her eyes contain the same lust for life you had when you first moved away from home. You aren’t sure if you’re jealous of her obvious attraction to your fiancé or the attraction to life she exudes. She doesn’t seem to carry any mental burdens, like you had from glancing at what lies behind her eyes. But then again, you hadn’t appeared to either while clocked in and focused on working.

“That’s mighty kind of ya, many thanks.” His left arm curls around your waist, his lips brushing your temple once again. The girl nods before turning on her heel and retreated back behind the counter. “Do you want to stay, darlin’? You were so excited to sit in and look at all the photographs on the wall.”

“I…I would like to go, please.” You look up at him, catching his eye feeling off kilter. Social battery completely drained and yearning for the privacy of your lush hotel room and a bath.

“Alright, let’s get you back to the hotel. We can take it easy until our evening reservations. How about I run us a nice, hot bubble bath, hmm?” His hand curls and guides you to stand directly in front of him, eyes searching your face. “We can soak until we’re all pruned up and I’ll even run it a little hotter for your comfort. Sound good?”

“I love you.” You surge up and press your lips to his cheek. His smile when you pull back grips around your heart and your stomach flips again, butterflies bursting to life. You do, you love him with everything you are, with everything you transformed into. His love in return the only thing that made you feel like you never had before. He was right, he had been waiting for you while you wandered and figured out what it was you wanted. You weren’t sure you had ever even explicitly voiced it or even discovered what it was beyond getting your credentials and teaching. But he had helped you to discover that what you wanted was a life with him. A simple, nurturing and real relationship with someone who saw you for exactly who you were.

You wanted to make sure he knew that as you connected your lips with his smiling ones.

“Let’s get you out of those clothes, hmm? Somethin’ tells me you got some thoughts swirling around in that pretty head of yours.” He whispers against them, breath hot and teeth teasing your bottom one for the barest of seconds, the action sending a shiver down your spine. All you can do is nod as he pivots and leads you back to the truck.

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ghost-bxrd · 8 months ago

Note

I’m an okay writer but I would LOVE to help with the click Gotham game

I have so many ideas

what if you could make an era choice

like, Robin Dick, 1990, or Robin Damian, 2018 (dates are wrong but you get the general idea)

The tech would match up with the times, and so would the medical care, and the villains, and everything (walking down the street and getting hit by an automobile that looks like it belongs in a museum)

the crowning glory would be that the resolution and color scheme would also match up

black and white, cartoony animation, over bright colors and everyone looking like they were drawn from the same two bases, hyper realistic animation.

ANYWAYS I love your ideas and can’t wait to see where it goes!

Holy crap imagine that! 😨

That would be a whole new level of complexity 😩 love that idea! But we would totally get stuck on the part where we find someone willing to work on those animations 😭🥺

But pls open world mechanics would be so cool! A huge map of Gotham City! With options of DLC’s to Star City and Metropolis maybe! Buildings that are closed off to you because you lack skills/clearance and need someone else to help you! GOING TO ARKHAM TO KILL JOKER!!! Kwnebcoakwjbduxkabdhj-

#pipe dream going strong #all those possibilities #*dreamy sigh*#jason todd #batfamily #dick grayson #bruce wayne #batfam #robin #tim drake #red hood

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tobybestupid · 1 year ago

Note

Hey, I love your writing and could you make an nsfw alphabet from the current axl rose? Please

Y'know what, I'll start doing nsfw, sure!!

NSFW Alphabet - current, Axl Rose

Tw: NSFW. (Idk specifics), pls click off if not comfortable with anything around sex!!

(total dilf)

A = Aftercare

I feel like he'd try, maybe give you a bath depending on his mood

B = Body Part

His favorite body part on you is your thighs, doesn't matter how big or small. His favorite part from his own body is arms, like he can just pick you up, pin you to a wall and rail you <33

C = Cum

He loves to cum on your thighs, or chest. Either makes him happy, but if you want it some where else he'll happily do that :3

D = Dirty Secret

So wants to have a threesome with you, maybe slash? Don't know, he just wants to.

E = Experience

He knows what he's doing, he obviously doesn't treat you like a groupie. He knows how to pleasure you, not just himself.

F = Favorite Position

Missionary, and maybe doggystyle. Basic man

G = Goofy

Depends, if it's drunk sex, he's off the rails giggling and crap. If y'all are into it and serious, he's serious. Man wants to please you.

H = Hair

Drapes match the carpets, maybe a little darker down below. But he's not that hairy, has a little small happy tail but is well groomed.

I = Intimacy

Again, this man wants to please you. He's romantic, unless it a quick fuck.

J = Jack off

Likes when you jerk him off, would die for you to do that to him.

K = Kink

He has a daddy kink, loves when you call him daddy. Plus a height difference kink, short king loves shorter gals, pals, and nals (idk it just rhymes)

L = Location

Bedroom, but will do it ANYWHERE. bathroom, kitchen, ect.

M = Motivation

Head, small and tight outfits, revealing outfits, and you in general.

N = No

Hurt you (spank is okay), any other icky body fluids, ECT.

O = Oral

He loves watching you give him head, but fucking loves. LOVES. Making you squeal as he eats you out of something.

P = Pace

Depends, baby making? Soft, sweet, and sensual. You want it rough? Lord he gives you it.

Q = Quickie

Hates em', will do it if it's before a show or something.

R = Risk

Loves taking a risk, it's his favorite thing, also doesn't care if y'all are caught, will keep going.

S = Stamina

Can and will go for about 3-5 rounds, only on good days. He does get tired quickly.

T = Toys

Used to own a Fleshlight, threw it out, had a vibrator for you.

U = Unfair

Loves teasing you, it's his favorite thing to do, loves watching you squirm as he does it. Lord, makes you beg to cum.

V = Volume

Low grunts, soft whimpers, does moan sometimes.

W = Wild card

Nibbles you, like soft nibbles at your neck.

X = X-ray

Maybe about 5 1/2 inches? A little curved upwards, small happy trail, groomed well, his tip is a slight lighter colors from the rest.

Y = Yearning/sex drive

Would go forever but he gets tired quickly, maybe 2-3 rounds, maybe.

Z = Zzz

Lets you sleep first, then sleeps after you.

#axl rose #axl gnr #slash guns n roses #axl rose x reader #guns n roses #izzy stradlin x reader #x reader

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vritest · 2 months ago

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ೃ⁀➷behind calculations and serendipity (1?)

tutor!luigi mangione x female!reader

A/N: Ended this in a really odd place but I would really love to hear feedback and if this fic should be continued!

TW: I DO NOT KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT COMPUTER ENGINEERING so pls cut me some slack :(

It was the beginning of a long week, the kind where each day felt like a heavy weight pulling you deeper into despair. You hadn’t eaten for days, and when you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, it was a stranger staring back. The reflection was gaunt, eyes sunken and dark, hair unkempt—a shadow of the vibrant person you once were. You slumped at your desk, your posture grotesque, embodying the very essence of defeat. Happiness seemed a distant memory, almost laughable in its improbability. You weren’t hunched over your laptop at the University of Pennsylvania because it was a dream come true; no, you were trapped in a life that suffocated you.

Each day bled into the next, an agonizing cycle of monotony that made you nauseous. You were barely scraping by in your computer engineering classes, a far cry from the gifted child who once triumphed with perfect grades and accolades, a million accomplishments that now felt like they had been thrown into a fierce blaze to be consumed entirely. All your childhood dreams had been reduced to ashes and, if you dared to confess your bleak inner thoughts, you imagined the backlash—you’d be labeled selfish, and perhaps they would be justified in saying so. After all, your privilege allowed you to attend a prestigious university, and you had landed in one of the few fields your parents approved of; the thought of a career as a lawyer or doctor filled you with an immense dread. Engineering was only a compromise, a path you were good at, thanks in part to your knack for math.

As you flipped through the crumpled notes scattered across your desk, your eyes fell upon a collage of doodles interspersed between the dense, chaotic scrawl of formulas and theories. Flowers wilted without color, swirling patterns that spoke of a whimsical part of you that felt stifled in this academic grind. You stared at your notes on the iPad, the words shifting and blending into nonsense as your eyelids grew heavy. The urge to simply vanish surged within you, to dissolve into dust and drift away like a feather in the wind, embracing a freedom denied to you in this life.

Your temples throbbed, and the familiar feeling of distress settled in your chest. Why was the assignment so impossible? It had been a long time since you felt this inadequate, and with a heavy sigh, you leaned back in your chair. The realization hit you like a tidal wave: you were setting yourself up for failure in this class, and the weight of indifference sat heavily on your shoulders. As you powered down your iPad and stood, the familiar sound of your dorm door creaking open interrupted your spiral of despair. It was Gia, your roommate and friend, stepping in wrapped in a towel, her shower bag slung carelessly over her shoulder. The moment she spotted you, the concern etched on her face was impossible to miss.

“God, Y/N, are you okay?” she said softly, setting her belongings down on her desk, her eyes scanning you like she could unravel the unspoken burden haunting you. You ran a weary hand through your tangled hair and sank onto your bed, staring blankly at the ceiling as if it held the answers to your turmoil.

“Wait, are you high?” she ventured cautiously, her tone lightening. “If you are, I promise I won’t judge. I completely get how the semester is treating you like absolute crap. But hey, I’m a communications major, so who am I to k—“

You cut in sharply, exhaustion lacing your voice. “I haven’t even had the time to get high if that’s what I wanted to do anyway, Gia.” The words tumbled out, heavy and fragile, the sound reminiscent of a vase precariously tilting, ready to shatter.

Gia offered a soft smile, her instinct to comfort firing in every direction as she turned to organize her things. Her presence soothed a bit of the chaos within you, and as she settled onto her bed, the squeak of the frame filled the quiet of the room, a stark contrast to the persistent rhythm of traffic outside, a constant reminder of the world moving on without you.

“Finals month, huh?” she chuckled wryly, unable to suppress a laugh. “It’s been kicking everyone’s butt, especially the STEM majors like you, from what I hear. But knowing you, you’ll probably pull through. You’re the smartest girl I know.”

Her words were meant to be uplifting, a twisted consolation, but they only deepened your internal conflict. You were smart, sure, or at least that’s what everyone said, the phrase echoing in your mind as if it were a mantra. But all the years of striving for a world that felt alien to you were forgotten by your parents, who had only acknowledged your achievements when they suited their narrative. The countless sketchbooks filled with colors and imagination, the awards that recognized your artistic vision—none of that mattered to them.

“Thanks, Gia,” you murmured, the silence enveloping the room again, thick and suffocating, a blanket of uncertainty. Darkness soon claimed you, and for seven fleeting hours, you escaped reality, only to awaken to the same bleak routine that awaited you once more.

The following day dawned with the same familiar routine, a monotonous entanglement of obligation and caffeine. You dragged yourself out of bed, the soft sheets still clinging to your legs as Gia hustled out the door for her classes. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee whispered promises of alertness as you made your way to your favorite local coffee shop. Inside, the glass front glistened with droplets of condensation, and the sound of grinding beans filled the air. You ordered your usual—an iced Americano with a hint of milk—and paired it with a flaky pastry, hoping this sugary indulgence would fuel your energy for the day ahead, particularly for the dreaded first class, the one that felt like an impending disaster. Your heavy eyelids and unkempt hair were stark reminders of late-night study sessions, leaving you too exhausted to care about appearances.

Finally, you stepped into the classroom, immediately struck by the sight of the familiar lecture hall. You chose your usual seat—worn from the repeated use—taking a moment to steady your breath. The ambiance was thick with the quiet murmur of students exchanging hesitant conversations while others busied themselves with their laptops. Suddenly, a voice, groggy yet commanding, echoed through the hall, calling your name. Instinctively, you froze, your belongings slipping from your grasp and landing with a soft thud on the table. It was your professor, standing at the front, and you felt a mix of anxiety and indifference wash over you.

With a sigh that tasted of resignation, you made your way down the steps, each movement feeling like an arduous journey under the weight of the stares that pierced through your back. In front of you stood a medium-sized man, his bald head gleaming under the fluorescent lights, thick glasses perched upon the bridge of his nose—your Digital Logic Designs professor.

As you approached, your hands buried deep in the pockets of your faded sweatpants, you couldn’t help but subtly purse your lips, bracing for the inevitable conversation. To your surprise, he greeted you with a warm smile, but his expression quickly shifted to one of concern, which inexplicably unsettled you.

“Y/N, are you aware of the grade you have in this class right now?” His voice was steady, yet your heart sank at the straightforward inquiry. You bit your lip, a well-practiced gesture of embarrassment flooding through you.

“Yes, and I just wanted to say that I completely understand if you aren’t going to let me pass this class. Honestly, I should’ve reached out sooner about my concerns—”

Then, an unexpected laugh escaped him. He laughed?

“Y/N, I know this isn’t typical for you,” he began, his voice imbued with warmth, “and I’ve seen the dedication you've put into your projects. You’re capable of so much more than you think.”

A flicker of disbelief crossed your face as you absorbed his words. Hope began to stir within you, and you found yourself holding his gaze tightly, as if participating in a silent contest of resolve.

“Regardless, I’ve noticed your grades slipping unexpectedly,” he continued. “And I believe the best course of action for you right now is to get a tutor.”

He paused, allowing his words to sink in, his shiny bald head slightly bowed, emphasizing the gravity of his offer. You stared back with a whirlwind of emotions—confusion, apprehension, and perhaps a hint of gratitude. The concept of having a tutor was foreign to you; throughout your academic journey, you had learned to navigate challenges and struggles alone. But at that moment, the idea felt almost like a lifebuoy being tossed in your direction after months of treading water.

“I’d appreciate that,” you finally responded, a tentative smile gracing your lips—not quite joy, but rather a sense of relief at the prospect of avoiding a parental lecture.

A grin broke across his face at your small admission of enthusiasm. He clasped his hands together, his eyes sparkling slightly. “Perfect! I’m assuming this is your last class of the day, so I’ll confirm with an old student of mine from last year about the tutoring sessions.”

After class, the familiar sensation of brain fog enveloped you once again. You would be lying if you claimed to have understood the last lesson; the only clarity you found was from the brief conversation you had with your professor at the start of the lecture. As you made your way toward the library, your gaze flitted over your surroundings, a mix of apprehension and hope brewing within you. You prayed that your tutor wouldn’t be another one of those overzealous students who seemed to have no personality outside their aspirations, an unfortunate stereotype that plagued your school.

Pushing open the heavy wooden door to the library, you were immediately enveloped by the warm, inviting atmosphere inside. The architecture was breath-taking—arched ceilings, polished wooden shelves lined with dust-laden books, and the soft golden glow of antique lamps flickering gently. It felt almost as if time stood still within these walls. The hush of the library was punctuated only by the faint rustle of pages being turned, and the focused expressions of other students as they battled their own academic demons.

As you wandered through the stacks, your attention was drawn to a curly-haired guy seated at a table near the front of the library. His prominent eyebrows framed a captivating face, and he was looking directly at you, a soft smile playing on his lips as he gestured for you to come over. Intrigued yet bewildered by how he recognized you already, you swallowed hard and approached the table, your heart racing slightly.

He was seated on one side, poised and composed, his laptop glowing softly in front of him.

You took a deep breath and pulled your tote bag tightly against your side. “Are you Luigi?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, and you must be Y/N,” he replied, his voice warm and inviting. You nodded, placing your bag down with a sense of trepidation. Your eyes scanned his face, taking in every detail—there was no way he could possibly be in the same major as you. He was stunning, the kind of striking beauty that seemed almost ethereal. Though he donned a simple hoodie and shorts, there was an effortless charm about him, leaving you momentarily speechless.

Caught in your thoughts, you suddenly became aware of how you must look, staring at him like a deer in headlights. A palpable awkwardness settled over you as you reached for your computer, the silence stretching between you like an unspoken barrier.

Then, an urge bubbled up inside you, breaking the silence. “So, how did you know I was the student that needed tutoring?”

He paused, looking up from his laptop, his gaze locking onto yours with a confidence that set you at ease.

“I can spot a Computer Engineer when I see one,” he said with an easy smile.

You chuckled lightly, the tension melting away a bit. “I don’t know whether I should be offended or not.”

#luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione x yn

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sleepy3012 · 3 months ago

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Hello nieghbor Fan Fic: Welcome to your new home

Summary: Officer Leslie finds Enzo where he is not suppose to be and decides to do something bad.

Enzo walks through Leslie's house and explore's. Enzo has been getting suspisous about Leslie because he has been being more and more rude to people than he usally was.

But Today he knew he had to sneak in Leslie's house to find any clues, even though he had a HUGE talk about this with his sister Maritza and Ofc she said no because she doesnt want him to get hurt. He he was, In Kornwell's house finding clues any clues to help him find out the truth.

He opens a closet door to find a bit of blood on a black cloke and he also found...a beak why the hell would Officer Leslie have a....wait a sec..no..He cant be-"

Just then he felt arms grab around his waist Enzo felt like his breath was being tookin away, as he struggle he heard a familar voice tell him...

"Why the hell are you in my house kid?" It was Leslie.

"I..I..I..I was just cheaking the place out pls.." Enzo said a scared voice.

Leslie then put the boy down and hold him down a couch and makes sure to go to Enzo's level and looks at him dead in the eyes.

"Please dont hurt me Leslie..I..I promise not to break in again just please dont hurt me~" Enzo says with his voice chocking as he starts to shed tears

Enzo felt like he was gonna die with all this crap..He should have listen to his sister, but no he is he stuck in this situation just then he felt Leslie caress his hands.

Am not going to hurt you...nor am I gonna let you go kid, you have to learn someway or another, Come here." He says start to pick Enzo up.

NO PLEASE AM SORRY AM SORRY AM- mgmh" Enzo is cut off by Leslie's hand.

Enzo realizes that on the hand being kept to his mouth was a small towel that smelt like...oh no. Enzo struggled more and more until he just feels his body go completly numb and he started to feel sleepy but still did not give up.

'N...no...I..cant....go to sleep.." Enzo thinks to himslef

"Stop struggling kid just relax for a bit, when you wake up your going to like your room we have planed for you." Leslie says with a smile on his face.

Enzo starts to feel sleepy he didn't want to give up he really didn't the last thing he hears is a chuckle come from Leslie

Before every goes. Completly. Dark. And Black....

Enzo wakes up on a soft soft bed and with soft pillows and..wait...BED?! He sits up to observe where is and notices Leslie next to a corner in a shadow on a chair acting like nothing has happened, then Leslie breaks the silince.

"SOooooo? What do you think of your room? We made sure it was really special for a Very Special boy for you hmm?"

"W..w...wha-?" Enzo looks around to see all the stuff he adores and like in the room his favroite color...everything was perfect

'Wait hold up get it together dont let this get in your brain Enzo' Enzo says to himslef

"So tell me...kid...would you like some pancakes?...or waffels? Its up to y-" Leslie gets cut off by Enzo.

"Why are you acting like this? Why do u have everything I ...well...like?

Leslie lets out a sigh and stands up to go while scratching his neck

"Hey Boss...and the rest of us want you to be comfterble with this place...you will be staying here for a while kiddo."

"NO YOU C..C..CANT D..DO THAT!" Enzo states with a scared and worried voice.

Leslie opens the door to leave and takes a last look at Enzo's face

Sorry kid, Boss's orderst... just try to adjust to your room and the things around you... also you can take those clothes off you'll be getting something that I think will suit you very good"

With that Leslie leaves the room leaving Enzo in there sheding tears...thoughts came up his head and he finally says "why didn't I listen to her" enzo sobs out his mouth

A few minutes later Crow Face comes in with the rest of the cult to Enzo's new "room" and they all gather around Enzo's sleeping body and one of the Members step in to give Enzo a kiss on his forehead

"Welcome to your New home Enzo~"

#enzo esposito #leslie kornwell #welcome to raven brooks #hello neighbor #the cult

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augustvandyne · 2 years ago

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OMG YOU WRITE OF GINNY AND GEORGIA! PLS IM BEGGING WRITE A MAX BAKER X FEM READER!

Sorry for the aggression… No one writes for her🥲

Maybe like R is Ginnys sister (different mom) but she never knew her mom bc she dropped her off at Zions w a note and a DNA test or something. Maybe she does online school bc she’s always travelling w Zion then she moves with him and goes over to see Ginny, Georgia and Austin bc Georgia was always basically her mom.

She then had her first day at school and meets Max and they both have gay panic and stutter bc yk gay.

Then later Ginny takes her to sit w her friends and Max is talking about this girl she ran into and swears she’s in love and R is just sitting next to Ginny on the end of the table waiting for her to notice she’s there. And she only notices when Ginny asks what the girl’s name was and Max is like, “CRAP! I WAS JUST RAMBLING AND NEVER ASKED HER NAME! SHE KNEW MINE BUT I WOULDN’T SHUT UP TO LEG HER SPEAK! Oh god🥲” and bangs her head on the lunch table and R is like, “My names y/n Miller btw” and Max just slowly lifts her head, and everyone is like ‘how did she not notice the person sitting right mf there! although very max’ then she’s like “I do enjoy the rambling though, it’s cute” then everyone is like ‘oh SHES the girl’ and start laughing at Max. R after saying this gets up and sees her friends from one of her classes and goes to max giving max her phone open on contacts so max can put in her number but she’s just broken. Abby snatches the phone and is like ‘sorry i think you broke her’ and outs in the number. R smirks and kisses Max’s cheek before going off with her other friends.

When she’s out of ear shot Max starts yelling at Ginny, “YOU NEVER TOLD ME YOU WERE RELATED TO A HOT, SAPPHIC MILK CHOCOLATE GODDESS😭 WTF GINNY! I LET UOU DATE MY BROTHER AND YOU DONT EVEN SAY ANYTHING ABOUT YOUR HOT SISTER!”

omg i actually love this. the aggression is very much needed! no one writes for our girl maxine.. she needs the love.

sorry this took me so long.. haha. don’t be afraid to request more. i promise not to take as long this time.

Gay Panic

When you found out you would be moving to Wellsbury for a while, you were through the roof excited.

You hadn’t seen Ginny, Georgia or Austin in a while, and you were beginning to miss your family! A few days after you’d arrived, your dad enrolled you in Wellsbury High School.

Ginny immediately introduced you to her friends. She introduced you to Abby, Norah, and a group of boys that you could care less about.

Your first class happened to be a drama class, where you met Maxine Baker. She drew you in with her vibrant colors and extroverted personality.

The teacher wanted to do an exercise to start out the class, in which the class paired up and acted out a scene of a play of their choice. Max loved the class, but she had no friends in it.

A new face had her intrigued and so she partnered with you.

You suggested Romeo and Juliet—because you can’t go wrong with it. Max stuttered and reluctantly agreed. She tried to get out that you should do the balcony scene, but it came out as a blubbering mess.

The first time you open your mouth, a similar things happen. Red tints your brown cheeks, as you make a fool of yourself.

Normally you can keep your cool around cute girls, but this girl is different. She’s confident and knows what she wants.

The two of you laugh off the stuttering and blushing Max grabs a book off the shelf so the two of you can act out the scene. You lean in close to her and can smell whatever perfume she decided to spray.

The close proximity has both of you blushing again.

Both of you mess up and stutter so much neither of you even finish the exercise before the teacher pulls everyone in to assign the work for the day.

The rest of your first morning is just as exciting. It’s followed by two other classes—art and study hall, where you meet some other girls. After study hall you follow Ginny to the cafeteria where you sit at a table filled with the same faces you saw this morning.

And Maxine.

You are surprised to see her at the table. But it makes sense. All the girls are more quiet than Max, which makes you believe she’s the leader.

Especially because she’s leading the conversation right now.

“So we are like acting the scene out, right, because I swear that our drama teacher hates me,” Max talks fast. “But anyway, we’re acting it out and I swear- I’m in love.”

“What happened to, uh, what’s her name?” Abby chews on a fry as she tries to come up with the name of the girl Max was all about the week before.

“Oh, I’m over her.”

“Already?” Norah barks out a laugh. “That was fast.”

Max glares at her.

“So this girl,” Brodie shrugs. “She hot or what?”

“Uh, gorgeous!” Max shakes her hands all around like she’s have a seizure. “She’s mixed, and kind of looks like Ginny. But she is the prettiest girl I’ve ever met. Like ever.”

“What was her name again?” Ginny rests her elbows on the table.

“Crap,” Max’s face falls. “I was rambling and stuttering and blushing so hard I forgot to ask her what her name was. I told her mine but I didn’t ask. Oh my God. I want to die now. I’m never going to speak to her again.”

As the girl bangs her head on the table, you reach your hand over Ginny and say, “I’m Y/N Miller, by the way.”

Abby’s mouth drops open and she laughs, “Max.. how did you not see her.”

Max is frozen in place. She isn’t blinking, talking, or breathing for that matter. She looks like she might cry.

“Um, are you okay?”

“Don’t worry, she does this all the time,” Ginny waves it off.

“What? Falls in love with girls she just meets?” You laugh awkwardly.

“Has gay panics,” Norah clarified.

“Ah,” You retreat your hand.

Jordan and Abby laugh at Max, whom is still frozen in place.

“Do you think if we nudge her she’ll tip over?” Abby jokes.

“Max, breathe,” Ginny places her hand on Max’s shoulder.

“Thank you for complimenting my looks,” You flash a bright smile. “And I enjoyed the rambling, it’s very cute.”

You see a few girls from your art class and get up to go say hi, stopping near Max, who then takes a deep breath and begins blinking again.

“Here,” you place your phone in her hand and she just blinks up at you. “Put your number in. Your cute. We should meet up some time.”

Abby leans across the table and puts the number in the contacts app, “I think you broke her.”

You smirk and grab your phone out of the redheads hand. You drop the phone into the back pocket of your jeans. Leaning down, you plop a kiss on Max’s cheek.

Max’s eyes widen and she waits for your to be out of earshot before grilling Ginny.

“Virginia Miller! How could you not tell me you were sisters with a hot, sapphic, greek god?!” Max starts freaking out. “What the F?! I let you date my brother and you gate-keep your beautifully gorgeous sister??”

Ginny just chuckles. “She has that effect on people.”

“You better text her,” Norah threatens. “Or I will.”

And Jordan doesn’t even protest.

#ginny and georgia #abby littman #maxine baker x reader #max baker x reader #ginny miller x reader #lesbian

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tw33k-tucker · 1 year ago

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Doodle requests are open‼️

The series characters I can draw the best(In order) are:

South Park, Eddsworld, Creepypasta, n' SMG4

Just a some things about me(changes/updates so much)

Fictionkin of:

Tweek Tweak

Craig Tucker

Kyle Broflovski

Kenny McCormick

Stan Marsh (South Park)

Mickey (Bobs Burgers)

Carl Grimes

Daryl Dixon (TWD) (I'm 99% sure I am a Fictionkin of him👍)

Gregory House (House M.D.)

Lucifer

Vox

Husk

Angel Dust (Hazbin hotel)

Sniper

Medic {Pls, istg I'm not insane anymore, I swear😭} (TF2)

Tord (Eddsworld)

Shadow ( Sonic, but not sure which specific Sonic yet)

Questioning 2

+ I have also found out I am a fictionflicker, so if there's some kins I have that aren't on the list above that's why👍 I do have a few recurring fictionflickers though, Such as:

Hunter (TOH)

Michael Afton (FNAF)

Crying Child/BV/Evan Afton (FNAF 4)

Tom (Eddsworld)

Adam (Hazbin Hotel)

SMG3 + Mr Puzzles (SMG4)

Ticci Toby

BEN Drowned + Jeff The Killer (Creepypasta)

Scout/Jeremy(TF2)

Louise (Bobs Burgers)

Therian but not completely comfortable to reveal some of my Theriotypes, but the ones I'm fine with revealing are a Border Collie, Island Fox, Clouded leopard, Red Panda, Some kind of Shark, Bi Color german shepherd, and an Opossum.

Current Shifts/Kinfeels:

Tweek Tweak

Craig Tucker

Scout/Jeremy

Ticci Toby

He/Him (Trans FTM/Masc)

Minor !! (I'm changing it to minor cause I only want the people close to me/my mutuals to know my age, sorry if its weird or smthn!!!)

Christan (but excepts any religion)

Favorite Animal is Guinea pigs

2nd favorite drink is coffee (My #1 favorite drink is water cause I need it to survive)

Top 5 Favorite songs:

1st: Runs in the family - Amanda Palmer

2nd: Life - Mother Mother

3rd: Animals - STOMACH BOOK

4th: Bad Habit - Steve Lacy

5th: Cupid's Chokehold / Breakfast In America - Gym Class Heros

(it was top 10 before, but I'm to lazy for that crap)

A few last random shit facts 'bout me + some random things

I am very scared of alarms(Like, fire alarms)

I have Trypophobia aka fear of holes(it's very bad)

I have a love hate relationship with insects

I'm AroAce but I still want a romantic relationship and Bi

Wolverine is my all-time favorite hero(I don't care that he's technically an anti-hero/also an X-Men, he's the best)

Black and Red are my favorite colors

HTTYD is my favorite movie series

I love Scooby Doo(Especially Mystery Incorporated)

I am a mix of Introverted and Extroverted

I swear I wanna cry when stuff I've been waiting for is altered(Don't ask, I have no idea why)

I have anxiety

I freak out VERY easily

Salamanders are so cool istg

I have sensitive ears so I hate loud noises(I think I'm just a wimp)

I was in a car crash when I was 8(Luckily me and my dad were fine)

I like Diary of a wimpy kid

I have an older brother that I fight with(Imagine Rodrick and Greg's rivalry)

Some noises also make me want to bawl my eyes out(Also don't ask why, I seriously don't know)

I will 'kill' you if you look in my sketchbook(I swear you do not wanna see it, like really, you do NOT)

I have social anxiety👍

I'm seriously fucked up in the brain

I have asthma

I have OCD and BPD

And also i've decided to make tags because it is so annoying trying to find certain posts. So: the art tag is #Tw33k Draws the ask tag is #Tw33ks asks and I also use #Tw33k Rambles when I'm just talking and then as well theres just the #Shitpost tag on the posts I post that have words or images that isn't art, I also #Tw33k Rants, I think that name is pretty self explanatory, I also don't add tags to like any of the stuff I reblog unless I'm talking in the tags

I'm horrible at spelling

And yeah, that's all I'm willing to tell

Also please don't hate me, I can't control who I am

Thanks for reading

Random Icons :D

Okay! One last thing, sense I have started the Zombie Park series, you can ask them questions about litterly ANYTHING some stuff they might not be allowed to answer at the moment like some stuff that'll happen in the future, but if you have any questions about the AU feel free to ask

#Intro #fictionkin #fictionflicker #therian

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thehusbandoden · 2 years ago

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Cold- Shigaraki x Fem!Reader Part 2

Surprisingly this and the alternative ending only took me today 😅. I finally got an oomph after a few weeks of a writing block and wrote this, the alternative ending, and like 3-4 other things along with some add-ons to a few unfinished drabbles.

Angst to fluff | 1,899 words | Happy ending + an alternative ending if you'd rather have it end differently! <3

Y/h- your height

Warnings!: Shigaraki dusting multiple people, choking (not sexually), mentions of blood, cutting off a limb (an arm), self harm (Shigaraki), breaking down, Dabi x reader but could be seen as platonic, mentions of season 6 (Machia and the Liberation army), mentions of killing heroes. Pls let me know if I missed any!

Part One | Part Two | Alt. Ending

Shiggy's P.O.V:

Shigaraki paced back and forth in the meeting room, ap hand scratching at his neck. Nothing but guilt consumed him. He's been a complete a-hole to you, treating you horribly. You don't deserve that. You deserve better.

After asking Toga for advice the man decided to apologize and change his sickening behavior. He had only acted like that due to many people criticizing him behind his back. Telling one another what a bad partner he was. It killed him to think that he was.. and so he pushed you away.

He kept you locked away for your safety, there were so many bad people around, he didn't want anything to happen to you. But he couldn't, no. He wouldn't tell you that. He wouldn't act like some over protective psycho who works with people he wants to protect you from.

He took things from you to enforce the rules. He had to keep you safe. He needed you. He said those horrible horrible things to you for what? To push you away further so he would make sure not to be a piece of crap boyfriend? Pathetic.

He only showed his true colors when he held you at night or in the soft hours he was in your shared room. Though you probably didn't even recognize that. He loved you so, so much. And today he'd make it up to you. Today, he, Shigaraki Tomura, would apologize.

Reader's P.O.V:

You grumbled as Dabi picked you up, successfuly avoiding the patrolling heroes.

"Dabi! Let me down!" You whisper-shouted, resulting in Dabi pinching your side. "Ow~!" You whine, smacking Dabi's head as he chuckled.

After the hero passed Dabi sprinted toward the alley across you, pressing himself against the wall, and unfortunately you with him.

"Dabi! It hurts!"

"Will you just- be quiet. For like two minutes." You huffed as you bit back a retort, pout stuck on your face.

After a while of rushing past heroes you both finally made your way out of the city. "Okay y/n. You can talk now."

"Oh can I? Thank you your grace." You bite back sarcastically, e/c eyes glaring into Dabi's turquoise.

"Aww come on now. I was just protecting ya."

"Yeah yeah. Whatever." Dabi just chuckled before splaying his arm over your shoulders, grasping at your right one as he made his way forward.

"Where are we going?" You ask, following suit as he tugged you along.

"To the bar. I can hopefully get you safe before coming back. And we only have a short amount of time so we need to hurry."

"But.. you're not gonna stay with me?"

"No. You know what I need to do y/n."

"So.. you're just going to leave me?!"

"I'll make sure you're safe and have a way to contact me at all times."

"B- okay.."

Shigaraki's P.O.V:

Shigaraki paced back and forth as he practiced what to say. He had everything ready, but the actual apology. Shigaraki has never really apologized before, so this was quite nerve wracking. After another half hour of practice he decided that it was good enough.

Walking toward his shared bedroom, he shifted his hold as he juggled a bouquet of your favorite flowers, your favorite treat, and three more teddy bears to try and fill the hole of the one he dusted. Not to mention an entire box full of books and a TV he left in his office. Where you would be the majority of the time. E

With him, your husband. Slightly knocking on the door, he stepped in. "Y/n my love I know I messed up, but I hoped that-" he stopped as he looked at the room.

It looked perfect. The sheets were cleaned and the bed was made, the floor was spotless and the clothes were perfectly hung up. But, that wasn't the unusual thing. You were gone. You weren't tucked away in bed like usual, you weren't soaking in the bath, and you weren't curled up with a book.

Panicking, Shigaraki dropped his armful to scour the room, ripping apart the closet and flipping the bed.

"Y/N! Y/N WHERE ARE YOU!" Shigaraki yelled, starting to hyperventilate. As he realized you weren't in the room he ran out, searching for you desperately.

"B-boss?" A villain huffed, azul eyes glued to Shigaraki's crazed form.

"WHERE IS MY Y/N!?"

After scouring the place and demanding answers from everyone and anyone Shigaraki found himself back in your shared room, the room a mess from his search. As the reality sunk in he dropped down to his knees, despair overwhelming his senses.

You were gone.

You left.

It was all his fault.

Sobs racked through Shigaraki's being as he clawed at his neck, crying for his missing love. His other half. His reason to live. You were gone. And it was all his fault.

Reader's P.O.V:

You smirked as you passed Dabi, turning to stick your tongue out at him. Dabi just glared at you as he picked up speed, passing you once more.

"Hurry up loser! You wouldn't want to be left behind!"

"Dabi you're such a bully!" He just laughed as he ran down the hill, and into a rice farm. You've been traveling for two days, and are nearing a town that Dabi thinks would be okay for you to shelter at.

Giggling, you ran after him, jumping into his back when you came in range.

"HEY!"

"Shh you'll wake someone up!" You giggle, nuzzling your face against his head. Dabi just scoffed before slowing his pace to a safer one.

"Hehe I knew you cared." You tease, poking at his cheek.

"I can and will drop you off here and now you pest." Dabi growled, cheeks a bright pink.

You just giggled before resting your head onto Dabi's shoulder, thoughts of your former lover plaguing your mind. You missed him. A lot. Not Shigaraki, the leader of the Liberation Army, but Tomura. Tomura, the leader of the humble LOV with a soft spot for his lover and partner.

Before you knew it silent tears rolled down your face onto Dabi's shoulder. If he noticed he didn't say anything, instead opting to stay quiet as he made his way across the rice field.

Shigaraki's P.O.V:

Shigaraki awoke to the shuffling of footsteps outside of his room. "Sh-Shigaraki! We have a clue to where y/n san-"

Shigaraki lunged at the man, grasping his arm in his hand as he whispered in his ear, "Don't you EVER utter her name again. Your filthy mouth isn't worth it."

The man screamed as his arm started decaying. As Shigaraki dropped him in disgust another man quickly moved to cut off the limb, stopping the decaying.

"Where is my y/n." Shigaraki demanded, glaring at the group.

"Ti' yoon saw Dabi taking a young lady about y/h outside of the base. She had clothing that looked similar to yours, and he says she had e/c eyes." A woman reports, arms crossed over her chest nervously.

Rage shook Shigaraki as he glared at every member of the group, neck scratching over his blood-stained neck. "Why didn't he tell me this EARLIER?" Shigaraki demanded, crimson eyes glaring.

"B-because he didn't suspect anything... He thought that it was someone else because he didn't know that your chick was disloy-" the man was cut off with a scarred hand to his neck, a finger short from decaying him instantly.

"DON'T EVER INSULT MY Y/N YOU SWINE!" Shigaraki yelled, choking the sobbing man before finishing the job, decaying him instantly.

"Bring me to Ti' yoon. Now."

After gathering as much information as he could, Shigaraki quickly made his way toward where they were headed on Machia, killing any hero that dared try and interrupt him.

Reader's P.O.V:

"Y/n. Give me that back. Now."

"But Dabi! Look at how good it looks on me! I thought it was ugly before but it must of just been you!" You tease, sticking your tounge out.

"Oh that's it. You're dead. " Dabi growled, lunging toward you.

You yelped as you threw yourself into a bush, getting you and Dabi's jacket stuck in the branches.

"Aha! Got you!" Dabi grinned, tickling your form as you shook with laughter.

"Da- Dabi! Come on! Help me up!" You giggle, e/c eyes shining.

"Nah. I'm good thanks." Dabi grinned, pinching your side. Dabi just gazed at you as you cussed him out, trying to wiggle free from the bush's grasp to ring his neck.

You both froze as you heard a familiar voice calling the two of you.

"Is that.." you whisper, eyes moist.

"Yeah.. let's get out of here." Dabi replied, scooping you into his arms. You worriedly looked back as Dabi sprinted away, searching for a hiding spot.

Shigaraki's P.O.V:

"Y/N MY LOVE! DABI YOU MORON I'M GOING TO SLOWLY TURN YOU INTO DUST! LIMB BY LIMB YOU WILL SUFFER FOR TAKING MY Y/N AWAY FROM ME!" Shigaraki yelled, crazed eyes scouring the rice farm.

Shigaraki had quickly found footprints, and his rage only deepened as he saw them interlap, and yours going as far as to disappear at times. Following the tracks, he reached a rice farm, where the prints were fresher. You were near. His other half was near.

"Y/N MY LOVE PLEASE COME HOME!"

Reader's P.O.V:

Tears ran down your cheeks as you listened to Shigaraki's words. He was going to find you. You knew it. But he was going to kill Dabi. Not only that- but torture him?

"Hey y/n. It will be okay. He won't find us."

"Yes. Yes he will Dabi. And you will die. I'd rather live with the shell of the man I fell in love with rather than flee and have my best friend be tortured. And don't you argue. I know you Dabi."

"Y/n. No. You are not going back to him."

"Dabi.. you aren't going to be tortured just so I can be happy. He hadn't physically hurt me. He's still my Tomura.. maybe one day he'll change."

"Y/n no-" as Dabi reached for you you activated your quirk and froze him, stopping his movement entirely.

"Y-y/n.. no."

"You'll be free by tomorrow. Hopefully I can convince him to not-"

"Y/n! Y/n my darling!" Shigaraki exclaimed, rushing toward you.

"Tomura..?" You ask, hesitation evident in your voice.

"Oh y/n I- I am so, so sorry. Please. Please my Love. Forgive me? I- I promise to do better. To go back to normal. Y/n my dear you are the most important thing to me, please. Please, please forgive me? I promise to change. My love please." Shigaraki begged, moving to his knees and grabbing your hands.

"Tomura.. you hurt me. A lot."

"I know- I know but baby please." "

"Oh baby.. how could I say no? J-just look at you. What happened to your neck?" You ask, a tear sliding down your face.

"Shhh nothing. Don't worry about it my baby." Right as Shigaraki pulled himself up to kiss you, you put a finger to his lips.

"But. Under one condition. I will forgive you if you promise not to hurt Dabi. He's like a big brother to me Tomu. So please?"

Shigaraki growled softly before glaring up at Dabi. "Fine. For you." He hissed.

You just smiled before tip toeing to kiss Shigaraki, entangling your hands into his hair and pulling him down to deepen the kiss. There were so many emotions poured into it.

Guilt.

Regret.

Hurt.

Acknowledgment.

Anger.

Relief.

And most evident; love.

Part 1 | Alt. ending

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